Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass | Page 8

whip them himself, but
must stand by and see one white son tie up his brother, of but few
shades darker complexion than himself, and ply the gory lash to his
naked back; and if he lisp one word of disapproval, it is set down to his
parental partiality, and only makes a bad matter worse, both for himself
and the slave whom he would protect and defend.
Every year brings with it multitudes of this class of slaves. It was
doubtless in consequence of a knowledge of this fact, that one great
statesman of the south predicted the downfall of slavery by the
inevitable laws of population. Whether this prophecy is ever fulfilled or
not, it is nevertheless plain that a very different-looking class of people
are springing up at the south, and are now held in slavery, from those
originally brought to this country from Africa; and if their increase do
no other good, it will do away the force of the argument, that God
cursed Ham, and therefore American slavery is right. If the lineal
descendants of Ham are alone to be scripturally enslaved, it is certain

that slavery at the south must soon become unscriptural; for thousands
are ushered into the world, annually, who, like myself, owe their
existence to white fathers, and those fathers most frequently their own
masters.
I have had two masters. My first master's name was Anthony. I do not
remember his first name. He was generally called Captain Anthony--a
title which, I presume, he acquired by sailing a craft on the Chesapeake
Bay. He was not considered a rich slaveholder. He owned two or three
farms, and about thirty slaves. His farms and slaves were under the care
of an overseer. The overseer's name was Plummer. Mr. Plummer was a
miserable drunkard, a profane swearer, and a savage monster. He
always went armed with a cowskin and a heavy cudgel. I have known
him to cut and slash the women's heads so horribly, that even master
would be enraged at his cruelty, and would threaten to whip him if he
did not mind himself. Master, however, was not a humane slaveholder.
It required extraordinary barbarity on the part of an overseer to affect
him. He was a cruel man, hardened by a long life of slaveholding. He
would at times seem to take great pleasure in whipping a slave. I have
often been awakened at the dawn of day by the most heart-rending
shrieks of an own aunt of mine, whom he used to tie up to a joist, and
whip upon her naked back till she was literally covered with blood. No
words, no tears, no prayers, from his gory victim, seemed to move his
iron heart from its bloody purpose. The louder she screamed, the harder
he whipped; and where the blood ran fastest, there he whipped longest.
He would whip her to make her scream, and whip her to make her hush;
and not until overcome by fatigue, would he cease to swing the
blood-clotted cowskin. I remember the first time I ever witnessed this
horrible exhibition. I was quite a child, but I well remember it. I never
shall forget it whilst I remember any thing. It was the first of a long
series of such outrages, of which I was doomed to be a witness and a
participant. It struck me with awful force. It was the blood-stained gate,
the entrance to the hell of slavery, through which I was about to pass. It
was a most terrible spectacle. I wish I could commit to paper the
feelings with which I beheld it.
This occurrence took place very soon after I went to live with my old

master, and under the following circumstances. Aunt Hester went out
one night,--where or for what I do not know,--and happened to be
absent when my master desired her presence. He had ordered her not to
go out evenings, and warned her that she must never let him catch her
in company with a young man, who was paying attention to her
belonging to Colonel Lloyd. The young man's name was Ned Roberts,
generally called Lloyd's Ned. Why master was so careful of her, may
be safely left to conjecture. She was a woman of noble form, and of
graceful proportions, having very few equals, and fewer superiors, in
personal appearance, among the colored or white women of our
neighborhood.
Aunt Hester had not only disobeyed his orders in going out, but had
been found in company with Lloyd's Ned; which circumstance, I found,
from what he said while whipping her, was the chief offence. Had he
been a man of pure morals himself, he might have been thought
interested in protecting the innocence of my aunt; but those who knew
him