17 - My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglass

Frederick Douglasss remarkable journey unfolds in these pages, showcasing not only his extraordinary rise against overwhelming odds but also serving as a powerful testament to the noble aspirations of the American anti-slavery movement. (Introduction)

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter sixteen of My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglas.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Another pressure
of the tyrants vice experience at Covey's summed up first
six months sever than the second preliminaries to the change
reasons for narrating the circumstances. Scene in the treading yard.

(00:23):
Author taken ill unusual brutality of Covey. Author escapes to
Saint Michael's. The pursuit suffering in the woods, driven back
again to Coveys bearing of Master Thomas. The slave is
never sick. Natural to expect slaves to feign sickness laziness
of slave holders. The foregoing chapter, with all its horrid

(00:46):
incidents and shocking features, may be taken as a fair
representation of the first six months of my life at Covey's.
The reader has but to repeat in his own mind
once a week the scene in the woods where Covey
subjected me to his merciless lash. To have a true
idea of my bitter experience there during the first period

(01:09):
of the breaking process through which mister Covey carried me,
I have no heart to repeat each separate transaction in
which I was a victim of his violence and brutality.
Such a narration would fill a volume much larger than
the present one. I aim only to give the reader
a truthful impression of my slave life, without unnecessarily affecting

(01:34):
him with harrowing details. As I have elsewhere intimated that
my hardships were much greater during the first six months
of my staic Coveys than during the remainder of the year,
And as the change in my condition was owing to
causes which may help the reader to a better understanding

(01:54):
human nature when subjected to the terrible extremities of slavery,
I will narrate the circumstances of this change, although I
may seem thereby to applaud my own courage. You have,
dear reader, seen me humbled, degraded, broken down, enslaved, and brutalized,

(02:15):
and you understand how it was done. Now let us
see the converse of all this, and how it was
brought about, and this will take us through the year
eighteen thirty four. On one of the hottest days of
the month of August of the year just mentioned, had
the reader been passing through Covey's farm, he might have
seen me at work in what is there called the

(02:37):
treading yard, a yard upon which wheat is trodden out
from the straw by the horses feet. I was there
at work feeding the fan, or rather bringing wheat to
the fan, while Bill Smith was feeding. Our force consisted
of Bill Hughes, Bill Smith, and a slave by the
name of Eli, the latter having been hired for this occasion.

(03:01):
The work was simple and required strength and activity rather
than any skill or intelligence, and yet to one entirely
unused to such work, it came very hard. The heat
was intense and overpowering, and there was much hurry to
get the wheat trodden out that day through the fan,

(03:22):
since if that work was done an hour before sundown,
the hands would have, according to a promise of Covey,
that hour added to their night's rest. I was not
behind any of them in the wish to complete the
day's work before sundown, and hence I struggled with all
my might to get the work forward. The promise of

(03:44):
one hour's repose on a weekday was sufficient to quicken
my pace and to spur me on too extra endeavor. Besides,
we had all planned to go fishing, and I certainly
wished to have a hand in that, but I was disappointed,
and the day turned out to be one of the
bitterest I ever experienced. About three o'clock, while the sun

(04:07):
was pouring down his burning rays, and not a breeze
was stirring, I broke down. My strength failed me. I
was seized with a violent aching of the head, attended
with extreme dizziness and trembling in every limb. Finding what
was coming, and feeling it would never do to stop work,
I nerved myself up and staggered on until I fell

(04:30):
by the side of the wheat fan, feeling that the
earth had fallen upon me. This brought the entire work
to a dead stand. There was work for for each
one had his part to perform, and each part depended
on the other, so that when one stopped, all were
compelled to stop. Covey, who had now become my dread

(04:51):
as well as my tormentor, was at the house about
a hundred yards from where I was fanning, and instantly,
upon hearing the fans stop, he came down to the
treading yard to inquire into the cause of our stopping.
Bill Smith told him I was sick, and that I
was unable longer to bring wheat to the fan. I

(05:11):
had by this time called away under the side of
a post and rail fence in the shade, and was
exceedingly ill. The intense heat of the sun, the heavy
dust rising from the fan, the stooping to take up
the wheat from the yard, together with the hurrying to
get through, had caused a rush of blood to my head.
In this condition, Covey, finding out where I was, came

(05:35):
to me, and after standing over me a while, he
asked me what the matter was. I told him as
well as I could, for it was with difficulty that
I could speak. He then gave me a savage kick
in the side, which jarred my whole frame, and commanded
me to get up. The man had obtained complete control
over me, and if he had commanded me to do

(05:56):
any possible thing, I should, in my then state of mind,
have endeavored to comply. I made an effort to rise,
but fell back in the attempt before gaining my feet.
The brute now gave me another heavy cake and again
told me to rise. I again tried to rise, and
succeeded in gaining my feet, but upon stooping to get

(06:18):
the tub with which I was feeding the fan. I
again staggered and fell to the ground, and I must
have so fallen had I been sure that a hundred
bullets would have pierced me as the consequence. While down
in this sad condition and perfectly helpless, the merciless negro
Breaker took up the hickory slab with which Hughes had

(06:38):
been striking off the wheat to a level with the
sides of the half bushel measure a very hard weapon,
and with the sharp edge of it, he dealt me
a heavy blow on my head, which made a large
gash and caused the blood to run freely, saying at
the same time, if you have got the headache, I'll
cure you. This done, he ordered me again to rise,

(06:59):
but I made no effort to do so, for I
had made up my mind that it was useless, and
that the heartless monster might now do his worst. He
could but kill me, and that might put me out
of my misery. Finding me unable to rise, or rather
despairing of my doings, so Covey left me with a
view to getting on with the work without me. I

(07:19):
was bleeding very freely, and my face was soon covered
with my warm blood. Cruel and merciless, as was the
motive that dealt that blow, dear reader, the wound was
fortunate for me. Bleeding was never more efficacious. The pain
in my head speedily abated, and I was soon able
to rise. Covey had, as I have said, now left
me to my fate, and the question was shall I

(07:42):
return to my work, or shall I find my way
to Saint Michael's and make Captain Auld acquainted with the
atrocious cruelty of his brother Covey, and beseech him to
get me another master, remembering the object he had in view,
and placing me under the management of Covey, and further
his cruel treatment of my poor crippled cousin Henny, and

(08:04):
his meanness in the matter of feeding and clothing his slaves,
there was little ground to hope for a favorable reception
at the hands of Captain Thomas Auld. Nevertheless, I resolved
to go straight to Captain Auld, thinking that if not
animated by motives of humanity, he might be induced to
interfere on my behalf from selfish considerations. He cannot, thought

(08:27):
I allow his property to be thus bruised and battered,
marred and defaced, and I will go to him and
tell him the simple truth about the matter. In order
to get to Saint Michael's by the most favorable and
direct road, I must walk seven miles, and this, in
my sad condition, was no easy performance. I had already
lost much blood, I was exhausted by overexertion, My sides

(08:50):
were sore from the heavy blows planted there by the
stout boots of mister Covey, and I was in every
way in an unfavorable plight for the journey. I, however,
watched my chance while the cruel and cunning Covey was
looking in an opposite direction, and started off across the
field for Saint Michael's. This was a daring step. If

(09:11):
it failed, it would only exasperate Covey and increase the
rigors of my bondage during the remainder of my term
of service under him. But the step was taken, and
I must go forward. I succeeded in getting nearly halfway
across the broad field towards the woods before mister Covey
observed me. I was still bleeding and the exertion of
running had started the blood afresh. Come back, Come back,

(09:35):
those siferated Covey with threats of what he would do
if I did not return instantly. But disregarding his calls
and his threats, I pressed on toward the woods as
fast as my feeble state would allow. Seeing those signs
of my stopping, Covey caused his horse to be brought
out and saddled, as if he intended to pursue me.
The race was now to be an unequal one, and,

(09:57):
thinking I might be overhauled by him if I kept
the main road, I walked nearly the whole distance in
the woods, keeping far enough from the road to avoid
detection and pursuit. But I had not gone far before
my little strength again failed me, and I laid down.
The blood was still oozing from the wound in my head,
and for a time I suffered more than I can describe.

(10:20):
There I was in the deep woods, sick and emaciated,
pursued by a rech whose character for revolting cruelty beggars
all approbrious speech, bleeding and almost bloodless. I was not
without the fear of bleeding to death, the thought of
dying in the woods all alone, and of being torn
to pieces by the buzzards had not yet been rendered

(10:41):
tolerable by my many troubles and hardships, and I was
glad when the shade of the trees and the cool
evening breeze combined with my matted hair to stop the
flow of blood. After lying there about three quarters of
an hour brooding over the singular and mournful lot to
which I was doomed, my mind passing over the whole
scale or circle of belief and unbelief, from faith in

(11:04):
the overruling providence of God to the blackest atheism, I
again took up my journey towards Saint Michael's more weary
and said than in the morning. When I left Thomas
Hall's for the home of mister Covey, I was barefooted
and bare headed, and in my shirt sleeves. The way
was through bogs and briars, and I tore my feet
often during the journey. I was full five hours in

(11:26):
going to seven or eight miles, partly because of the
difficulties of the way, and partly because of the feebleness
induced by my illness, bruises, and loss of blood. On
gaining my master's store, I presented an appearance of wretchedness
and woe, fitted to move any but a heart of stone.
From the crown of my head to the sole of

(11:47):
my feet, there were marks of blood. My hair was
all clouded with dust and blood, and the back of
my shirt was literally stiff with the same. Briars and
thorns had scarned and torn my feet and legs, leaving
blood marks. Had I escaped from a den of tigers,
I could not have looked worse than I did on
reaching Saint Michael's. In this unhappy plight, I appeared before

(12:09):
my professedly Christian master, humbly to invoke the interposition of
his power and authority to protect me from further abuse
and violence. I had begun to hope during the latter
part of my tedious journey towards Saint Michael's. The Captain
Hall would now show himself in a nobler light than
I had ever before seen him. I was disappointed. I

(12:31):
had jumped from a sinking ship into the sea. I
had fled from the tiger to something worse. I told
him all the circumstances as well as I could. How
I was endeavoring to please Covey, how hard I was
at work in the present instance, how unwillingly I sunk
down under the heat, toil and pain, the brutal manner
in which Covey had kicked me in the side, the
gash cut in my head. My hesitation about troubling him.

(12:54):
Captain ogg with complaints, but that now I felt it
would not be best longer to get sealed from him
the outrages committed on me from time to time by Covey.
At first, Master Thomas seemed somewhat affected by the story
of my wrongs, but he soon repressed his feelings and
became cold as iron. It was impossible, as I stood
before him at the first for him to seem indifferent.

(13:18):
I distinctly saw his human nature asserting its conviction against
the slave system, which made cases like mine possible. But
as I have said, humanity felt before the systematic tyranny
of slavery. He first walked the floor, apparently much agitated
by my story and the sad spectacle I presented, but
presently it was his term to talk. He began moderately

(13:41):
by finding excuses for Covey, and ending with a full
justification of him and a passionate condemnation of me. He
had no doubt I deserved the flogging. He did not
believe I was sick of his only endeavoring to get
rid of work. My dizziness was laziness, and Covey did
right to flog me as he had done, after thus
fairly annihilating me and rousing himself by his own eloquence.

(14:04):
He fiercely demanded what I wished him to do. In
the case, with such a complete knockdown to all my
hopes as he had given me, and feeling as I did,
my entire subjection to his power, I had very little
heart to reply. I must not affirm my innocence of
the allegations which he had piled up against me, but
that would be impudence and would probably call down fresh

(14:27):
violence as well as wrath upon me. The guilt of
a slave as always and everywhere presumed, and the innocence
of the slaveholder or the slave employer is always asserted.
The word of the slave against this presumption is generally
treated as impudence worthy of punishment. Do you contradict me?
You rascal? Is a final silencer of counter statements from

(14:47):
the lips of a slave, calming down a little in
view of my silence and hesitation, and perhaps from a
rapid glance at the picture of misery I presented. He
inquired again what I would have him do. Thus, invited
a second time, I told Master Thomas, I wished him
to allow me to get a new home and to
find a new master. That as sure as I went

(15:08):
back to live with mister Covey again, I should be
killed by him, That he would never forgive my coming
to him Captain Ault with a complaint against him. Covey,
that since I had lived with him, he had almost
crushed my spirit, and I believed that he would ruin
me for future service. That my life was not safe
in his hands. This Master Thomas, my brother in the church,

(15:28):
regarded as nonsense. There was no danger of mister Covey's
killing me. He was a good man, industrious and religious,
and he would not think of removing me from that home.
Besides that, he and this I found was the most
distressing thought of all to him. If you should leave
Covey now that your year has but half expired, I
should lose your wages for the entire year. You belonged

(15:50):
to mister Covey for one year, and you must go
back to him. Come, what will you must not trouble
me with any more stories about mister Covey, and if
you do not go and meet deetly home, I will
get hold of you myself. This was just what I
expected when I found he had prejudged the case against me.
But Sarah, I said, I'm sick and tired, and I
cannot get home tonight. At this he again relented, and

(16:13):
finally he allowed me to remain all night at Saint Michael's,
but said I must be off early in the morning,
and concluded his directions by making me swallow a huge
dose of absent salts, about the only medicine ever administered
to slaves. It was quite natural for Master Thomas to
presume I was feigning sickness to escape work, for he
probably thought that were he in the place of a

(16:35):
slave with no wages for his work, no praise for
well doing, no motive for tor but the last he
would try every possible scheme by which to escape labor.
I say, I have no doubt of this. The reason
is that there are not under the whole heavens a
set of men who cultivate such an intense dread of
labor as do the slaveholders. The charge of laziness against

(16:55):
the slaves is ever on their lips, and is the
standing apology for every speed species of cruelty and brutality.
These men literally bind heavy burdens grievous to be born,
and lay them on men's shoulders, but they themselves will
not move them with one of their fingers. My kind
readers shall have in the next chapter what they were led,

(17:16):
perhaps to expect to find in this, namely, an account
of my partial disenthrallment from the tyranny of Covey and
the mark change which it brought about. End of Chapter sixteen,