Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass (7 ebook reader .TXT) ๐
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The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass was written in 1845, seven years after Douglass escaped slavery, and is the first of three autobiographies. It covers his life as a slave, enduring the whips of the overseers and the hopelessness of his circumstances, until his escape to the north and arrival at New Bedford, Massachusetts. The brutalities he witnessed and his slowly growing desire for freedom are presented in the vivid language he was already known for in his antislavery oration.
The eloquence of Douglassโs speeches caused some skeptics to doubt his credibility, believing that a former slave with no education could never speak so well. Thus, part of his motivation for writing the book was to dispel this suspicion and to provide a fuller history than was possible in his lectures. The abolitionists William Lloyd Garrison and Wendell Phillips provided introductions vouching for the truth of Douglassโs words.
The book was an immediate best seller. The fame brought danger to Douglass, who sailed for England shortly after the bookโs publication to ensure he would not be apprehended as a fugitive slave. He spent two years touring and lecturing in Great Britain and Ireland before returning to America to continue his abolitionist work. English supporters raised funds to purchase his freedom from his former master.
The slave narrative is an autobiographical genre written by escaped slaves concerning their lives in bondage. Slave narratives not only promoted abolitionism by giving first hand evidence of the cruelty and hypocrisy of slaveholders, but also allowed African Americans to express themselves as intelligent, articulate individuals, deserving of respect and freedom. Douglassโs Narrative is perhaps the most important example of the genre, on the basis of its literary merits and its impact on the abolitionist movement.
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- Author: Frederick Douglass
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Whilst I am detailing bloody deeds which took place during my stay on Colonel Lloydโs plantation, I will briefly narrate another, which occurred about the same time as the murder of Demby by Mr. Gore.
Colonel Lloydโs slaves were in the habit of spending a part of their nights and Sundays in fishing for oysters, and in this way made up the deficiency of their scanty allowance. An old man belonging to Colonel Lloyd, while thus engaged, happened to get beyond the limits of Colonel Lloydโs, and on the premises of Mr. Beal Bondly. At this trespass, Mr. Bondly took offence, and with his musket came down to the shore, and blew its deadly contents into the poor old man.
Mr. Bondly came over to see Colonel Lloyd the next day, whether to pay him for his property, or to justify himself in what he had done, I know not. At any rate, this whole fiendish transaction was soon hushed up. There was very little said about it at all, and nothing done. It was a common saying, even among little white boys, that it was worth a half-cent to kill a โnigger,โ and a half-cent to bury one.
VAs to my own treatment while I lived on Colonel Lloydโs plantation, it was very similar to that of the other slave children. I was not old enough to work in the field, and there being little else than field work to do, I had a great deal of leisure time. The most I had to do was to drive up the cows at evening, keep the fowls out of the garden, keep the front yard clean, and run of errands for my old masterโs daughter, Mrs. Lucretia Auld. The most of my leisure time I spent in helping Master Daniel Lloyd in finding his birds, after he had shot them. My connection with Master Daniel was of some advantage to me. He became quite attached to me, and was a sort of protector of me. He would not allow the older boys to impose upon me, and would divide his cakes with me.
I was seldom whipped by my old master, and suffered little from anything else than hunger and cold. I suffered much from hunger, but much more from cold. In hottest summer and coldest winter, I was kept almost nakedโ โno shoes, no stockings, no jacket, no trousers, nothing on but a coarse tow linen shirt, reaching only to my knees. I had no bed. I must have perished with cold, but that, the coldest nights, I used to steal a bag which was used for carrying corn to the mill. I would crawl into this bag, and there sleep on the cold, damp, clay floor, with my head in and feet out. My feet have been so cracked with the frost, that the pen with which I am writing might be laid in the gashes.
We were not regularly allowanced. Our food was coarse corn meal boiled. This was called mush. It was put into a large wooden tray or trough, and set down upon the ground. The children were then called, like so many pigs, and like so many pigs they would come and devour the mush; some with oyster-shells, others with pieces of shingle, some with naked hands, and none with spoons. He that ate fastest got most; he that was strongest secured the best place; and few left the trough satisfied.
I was probably between seven and eight years old when I left Colonel Lloydโs plantation. I left it with joy. I shall never forget the ecstasy with which I received the intelligence that my old master (Anthony) had determined to let me go to Baltimore, to live with Mr. Hugh Auld, brother to my old masterโs son-in-law, Captain Thomas Auld. I received this information about three days before my departure. They were three of the happiest days I ever enjoyed. I spent the most part of all these three days in the creek, washing off the plantation scurf, and preparing myself for my departure.
The pride of appearance which this would indicate was not my own. I spent the time in washing, not so much because I wished to, but because Mrs. Lucretia had told me I must get all the dead skin off my feet and knees before I could go to Baltimore; for the people in Baltimore were very cleanly, and would laugh at me if I looked dirty. Besides, she was going to give me a pair of trousers, which I should not put on unless I got all the dirt off me. The thought of owning a pair of trousers was great indeed! It was almost a sufficient motive, not only to make me take off what would be called by pig-drovers the mange, but the skin itself.
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