Frederick
Douglass: Emancipation through Determination
by C. A. T.
for Literary Nonfiction,
ETSU, Dec 2003
[ C.A.T. is an
undergraduate at ETSU working towards an English major with a Journalism
minor. She is a native of Johnson City
and the mother of two boys. ]
Frederick Douglass’ determination
to learn to read and write led him to self-emancipation and also fueled his
career as an anti-slavery agent after he gained his freedom. His story stands
as an important reminder of African-American history.
East of Baltimore, isolated from
Maryland by the Chesapeake Bay, lies the Eastern Shore. Sometime around
February of 1817, this sandy, flat peninsula became the birthplace of Frederick
Augustus Washington Bailey, who would later become famous as Frederick
Douglass. Douglass writes in his autobiography, Life and Times of Frederick
Douglass, “ I don’t know my age. Slaves have no family records.” He never
knew his father and memories of his mother, who lived on a plantation twelve
miles away, were very scarce.
Douglass spent most of his
childhood with his grandparents, Isaac and Betsy Bailey. Grandma Betty had a
warm-heart and spent much of her time making fishing nets, planting potatoes,
and caring for the children of her five daughters (Foner, 15). Douglass
claimed, “It was not long, however, before I began to learn the sad fact that
this house of my childhood belonged not to my dear old grandmother, but to
someone I had never seen...not only the home and lot, but that my grandmother
herself and all the little children around her belonged to a mysterious
personage, called by my grandmother...Old Master” (35). At approximately the
age of seven, Douglass made the twelve mile arduous journey to a new master’s
house on the banks of the river Wye, with his grandmother carrying him part of
the way. His new master, Captain Aaron Anthony, owned three farms in Tuckahoe
and nearly thirty slaves. Douglass soon began his work of rounding up the cows,
keeping the chickens out of the garden, sweeping, running errands, among other
duties (15).
One morning in 1824, the little
slave boy of seven witnessed the true face of slavery. Douglass awoke to the clang
and clatter of pots in his master’s kitchen and the shrill screams of his aunt.
His aunt Ester had stumbled into trouble. According to Douglass, Ester
possessed a curse to slave girls, personal beauty. She had long legs, light
skin, and an immaculate body. Her curves, however, caused her nothing but grief
as Captain Anthony forbade her to see her love, Ned Roberts, perhaps out of
mere jealously and envy. Douglass saw his aunt completely naked to the waist,
bound and hung from a ceiling hook. Behind her stood her master, cowhide whip
in hand, cracking it with his hands, ready to begin his punishment with
delight. There she stood with her arms stretched high over her head as her
owner beat her till she was “literally covered with blood. The louder she screamed,
the harder he whipped; and where the blood ran the fastest, there he whipped
the longest” (Narrative, 244). According
to Douglass, she cried, “Have mercy! Oh, mercy! I won’t do so no more,” but
this only increased her master’s rage. When finally he let her down, she could
barely stand. This incident led Douglass to question, Why am I a slave?” (Life
and Times, 56-8)
In the spring of 1825, Douglass
hurried through the narrow street along the waterfront in Baltimore as he
rejoiced in his luck of being in the third-largest city in America. Douglass
had been sent to live with Hugh Auld, as he later wrote “Going to live at
Baltimore laid the foundation, and opened the gateway, to all my subsequent
prosperity”(Foner 17). His new mistress was Sophia Auld, or Mrs. Sophia. Upon
arriving, her small, rosy-cheeked son, Tommy, danced all around Douglass, as if
excited by a new toy. Mr. Auld only offered a short, stern, “hello.” Mrs.
Sophia brought Douglass and Tommy face-to-face and introduced them.
Mrs. Sophia affectionately said to her child, “Tommy, here is your
Freddy. Freddy will take care of you.”
She turned to Douglass and said,
with a smile, “Freddy, be kind to Tommy.” (Life and Times, 85)
Mrs. Sophia proved herself kind,
gentle, and cheerful. She had never been a slaveholder and did not hold the
slaveholding ladies’ disposition of total disregard for the rights and feeling
of others. Mrs. Sophia did not treat curly-haired little Freddy with less
compassion simply because of his dark skin. She had depended upon herself most
of her life and had earned a living as a weaver. She had preserved her good
heart, although Douglass claimed, “slavery could change a saint into a sinner,
and an angel into a demon.” Upon hearing Mrs. Sophia read the Bible aloud,
Douglass decided to unravel the mysteries behind this reading. Douglass
wondered, “How could those small black lines and circles on the page form
themselves into words?” (Life and Times, 88-9) Mrs. Sophia had ignited Douglass’
desire to learn. She kindly helped him in his venture to learn the alphabet,
and before long, Douglass could spell words of three or four letters.
Anxious to share her progress with
her husband, Mrs. Sophia waited until Mr. Auld returned from work early one
afternoon and then she told him eagerly of her little makeshift school. Mr.
Auld did not share her enthusiasm, however he demanded she cease all teaching
at once, ranting that:
If you teach that nigger ... how to read, there would
be no keeping him. It would forever unfit him to be a slave. He would at once
become unmanageable, and of no value to his master. As to himself, if could do
him no good, but a great deal of harm. It would make him discontented and
unhappy (Narrative 263).
Upon her husband’s request, Mrs. Sophia refused to
help Douglass any farther. However, Douglass had felt the effects of each of
Mr. Auld’s derogatory statements as if he had been hit with a hammer upon each
word. Douglass divided his time between his mistress at home and his master in
the shipyard. As he went out to run errands for the couple, without anyone
peering over his shoulder, he found new teachers in the streets. Douglass
exchanged his mistress’ bread for knowledge from neighborhood kids. Huddled
together on a curbstone, the white boys would dive into Webster’s Spelling
Book with young Douglass. Although slavery was a delicate subject, Douglass
would open up a discussion with the white boys pleading, “I wish I could be
free, as you will be when you get to be men. You will be free, you know, as
soon as you’re twenty-one, and can go where you like, but I am a slave for
life. Have I not as good a right to be free as you have?”
Many would reply, with sympathy from their yet
untainted hearts, “Of course you have as good a right to be free as we have.
Perhaps you will somehow manage to get free when you are a man” (Hoexter, 37).
Douglass purchased The Columbian Orator with
the first fifty cents he earned from shining boots on the street. This book
encouraged his hatred for slavery, as he memorized the speeches of Chatham,
Sheridan, and Fox concerning human rights. Douglass’ first glimpse of hope came
after discovering the meaning of abolition thanks to a column in the Baltimore
American, around February 1833. Douglass learned that many people had sent
petitions to Congress begging for an end to slavery. With these words, Douglass
discovered “there was hope,” there were people, groups of people, in America
who wished to do away with slavery. Douglass became more determined than ever
to find his freedom and become a member of this group of abolitionists (Life
and Times, 100).
In spring of 1833, Douglass received orders to return
to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, to the village of St. Michael’s to work for
Thomas Auld. After returning to plantation life after seven years in the city,
Douglass made no attempt to sit back and obey his master willingly. He made no
effort to keep the peace or hide his dissatisfaction of the treatment of slaves
on the plantation. He infuriated his owner with blatant refusal to call him “Master”
rather than “Captain”(Foner, 19). Douglass, seen as a troublemaker, constantly
infuriated his master by letting the horse escape from the barn daily. After
nine months and countless beatings without any attitude adjustment, Douglass
was sent to Edward Covey, the infamous slave-breaker.
On the cold and frosty morning of January 1, 1834,
Douglass struggled against the chilling wind with a small bundle of torn and
worn out clothes swung across his shoulder towards Covey’s unpainted wooden
farmhouse near the shore of Chesapeake Bay. Covey wasted no time in putting his
new property to work. With Covey’s gray green eyes and wolfish face peering
suspiciously upon him, Douglass learned that he and three others were to
cultivate the four hundred-acre farm. Three days into his stay with Covey, the
thin, but strong man flogged Douglass unmercifully with switches after Douglass
broke a gatepost unintentionally after trying to drive oxen for the first time.
Before the week was over, another brutal beating reopened the old wounds. This
pattern continued for the first six months and Douglass’ back and limbs became
no stranger to excruciating pain. (Life and Times, 136)
Douglass endured this insanity until one scorching
summer day in August. Frederick had worked nonstop with two other slaves,
despite the overwhelming heat and humidity, at threshing wheat. That afternoon,
close to three o’clock, just as the temperature hit its peak, Douglass’ head
began to spin. His head grew heavier until finally he gave away to the
dizziness and fell to the floor. With one slave unable to carry on, the cycle
stopped. Covey noticed the missing noise of the flail and came running.
Douglass, in an attempt to escape the heat of the sun, had crawled to a shaded
corner of the yard. Covey struck him with a hickory slat on the head. Covey
left and Douglass stumbled into the woods to seek help from his master Thomas.
He received no help from Thomas, who commanded him to return to Covey (Life and
Times, 145-7).
Douglass returned that Sunday, a new man with new
determination. The next day, as Douglass climbed down from the loft in the
barn, Covey grabbed Douglass’ legs and attempted to tie a rope around them.
Douglass fell to the ground and as Covey tried to retrieve his rope, Douglass
dove for Covey’s throat with a vengeance that had been building up for six
months. He held onto Covey’s throat until the blood began to flow under his
nails. Covey began to tremble and cried out, “Are you going to resist, you
scoundrel?”
Douglass replied, “Yes, sir,” continuing to hold him
at arm’s length. The fight continued for two hours and Douglass threw Covey
down on the ground several times. Afterwards, Douglass realized that he had not
been whipped at all and Douglass commented:
This battle with Mr. Covey was the turning point in my
career as a slave...I felt as
I never felt before. It was a glorious resurrection,
from the tomb of slavery, to the
heaven of freedom. My long-crushed spirit rose,
cowardice departed, bold
defiance took its place; and I now resolved that,
however long I might remain a
slave in form, the day had passed forever when I could
be a slave in fact. I did not
hesitate to let I be known of me, that the white man
who expected to succeed in
whipping me, must also succeed in killing me (Hoexter
49).
On Monday September 3, 1838, Douglass finally escaped
from slavery and Baltimore forever. Douglass drove to Pratt Station that
morning with Isaac Rolls, a free black man. Douglass clothed himself in a
sailor suit with a red shirt; a far different appearance than his normal
caulking apron, with a hat shading his face and a black tie haphazardly tied
around his neck. In his pocket, perhaps the most necessary piece of his
costume, a sailor’s protection pass belonging to a free black seaman named
Stanley. As the train began to roll out of the station at six o’clock that
morning, Douglass daringly jumped aboard. Isaac threw his bundle to him, which
contained his meager wardrobe, his tools, his Columbian Orator, his
spelling book, and his Bible. Douglass seated himself in the section reserved
for free Negroes, and felt his heart almost pound out of his chest as the
conductor approached him.
“I suppose you have your free papers?”
“No, sir, I never carry my free papers with me,”
Douglass nervously spit out.
“But you have something to show that you are a free
man, haven’t you?” the conductor asked quickly.
Douglass answered with sweaty palms and heart pounding,
“Yes, sir. I have a paper with the American eagle on it that will carry me
around the world.” This pacified the conductor as he collected the four-dollar
fare and moved on. Douglass had escaped the brutal institution of slavery
(Hoexter, 58).
Three years later, on August 9, 1841, Douglass’ dream
came true. He attended a meeting of the Bristol Anti-Slavery Society in New
Bedford. The meeting took place in Liberty Hall, an old broke-down building,
with doors coming off their hinges, broken windows destroyed by protestors
throwing stones, and probably pretty much covered by weeds. Here Douglass met
William Lloyd Garrison, the editor of the Liberator. Barely twenty-four
years old and only three years free from slavery, Douglass conversed with
Garrison and made a lasting, instant impression on the Abolitionist leader. The
next day, impressed by Douglass speech and moving story, Garrison took Douglass
to Nantucket for an Anti-Slavery Convention where Mr. William C. Coffin, a
prominent Abolitionist, approached Douglass with a request to speak to the
crowd.
On August 11, 1941, the sun beat down on Douglass as
he slowly approached the wooden platform. Beads of sweat trickled down his face
as he climbed up the creaky steps to the podium. Douglass turned to the audience,
hands trembling nervously and began his first anti-slavery speech by
apologizing for his ignorance. However, Douglass’ speech proved him anything
except ignorant. At the end of his speech, Mr. John A. Collins, general agent
of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Convention, proceeded to request that
Douglass become a public speaker for the cause. Despite the trouble Douglass
could face if his master found out his whereabouts, Douglass finally agreed to
a three-month stint to deliver his story and its meaning, however he continued
well past the three months promised (Life and Times, 240).
It did not take Douglass long to become accustomed to
his new job and prevail as one of the best orators for the anti-slavery cause.
Douglass not only moved crowds with his compelling story but he also introduced
new ideas that had never before been articulated so clearly:
People in general will say they like colored men as
well as any other, but in their
proper places.
They assign us that place; they don’t let us do it ourselves nor will
they allow us a voice in the decision. They will not
allow that we have a head to
think, and a heart to feel and a soul to aspire. They
treat us not as men, but as
dogs-they cry “stu-boy” and expect us to run to do
their bidding. That’s the way
we are liked. You degrade us, and then ask why we are
degraded- you shut our
mouths and then ask why we don’t speak-you close your
colleges and seminaries
against us, and then ask why we don’t know more.
(Hoexter, 71)
Upon hearing this fresh idea, Garrison rose and
claimed, “Frederick Douglass, though called by slaveholders a thing, is, in
fact, a miracle! a proof of what a man can do and be in spite of station or
condition” (72).
Douglass’ confidence in his ability grew with praise,
as well as provoked him to commit his history to paper. Douglass not only left
us an autobiography, but he wrote several accounts of his life, each one
containing more intimate and intriguing details than the previous. Douglass was
truly a hero of his time, although due to his dark skin, his intelligence and
spirit are sometimes overlooked and passed up for white men. Without Douglass’
self-taught, self-determined, brave escape to freedom, African-American history
today would be somewhat lacking. It would be lacking the moving account of one
small, curly-haired, dark skinned boy’s rise above all odds to make for himself
and others a better existence. Douglass proved to the white Southern
slaveholders that dark skin does not prevent a person from being a human or
having a soul.
Works Cited
Douglass, Frederick. Life and Time of Frederick Douglass. Pathway Press:
New York, 1941.
Douglass, Frederick. “Narrative of the Life Frederick
Douglass, and American Slave.” American Autobiographies. Ed. William
Andrews. Penguin Putnam: New York, 1992. 230-327.
Foner, Phillip. The Life and Writings of Frederick
Douglass. International Publishers: New York, 1950.
Hoexter, Corinne. Black Crusader: Frederick Douglass. Rand McNally: New York, 1970.