Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

by Frederick Douglass

As to my own treatment while I lived on Colonel Lloyd's 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 master's 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 any thing 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 naked-no 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 Lloyd's 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 master's 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 or 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. I went at it in good earnest, working for the first time with the hope of reward.

The ties that ordinarily bind children to their homes were all suspended in my case. I found no severe trial in my departure. My home was charmless; it was not home to me; on parting from it, I could not feel that I was leaving any thing which I could have enjoyed by staying. My mother was dead, my grandmother lived far off, so that I seldom saw her. I had two sisters and one brother, that lived in the same house with me; but the early separation of us from our mother had well nigh blotted the fact of our relationship from our memories. I looked for home elsewhere, and was confident of finding none which I should relish less than the one which I was leaving. If, however, I found in my new home hardship, hunger, whipping, and nakedness, I had the consolation that I should not have escaped any one of them by staying. Having already had more than a taste of them in the house of my old master, and having endured them there, I very naturally inferred my ability to endure them elsewhere, and especially at Baltimore; for I had something of the feeling about Baltimore that is expressed in the proverb, that "being hanged in England is preferable to dying a natural death in Ireland." I had the strongest desire to see Baltimore. Cousin Tom, though not fluent in speech, had inspired me with that desire by his eloquent description of the place. I could never point out any thing at the Great House, no matter how beautiful or powerful, but that he had seen something at Baltimore far exceeding, both in beauty and strength, the object which I pointed out to him. Even the Great House itself, with all its pictures, was far inferior to many buildings in Baltimore. So strong was my desire, that I thought a gratification of it would fully compensate for whatever loss of comforts I should sustain by the exchange. I left without a regret, and with the highest hopes of future happiness.

1 answer

Frederick Douglass's account of his early life and experiences as a slave on Colonel Lloyd's plantation presents a vivid and poignant narrative of suffering, resilience, and the longing for freedom. In this excerpt, Douglass describes his childhood marked by the harsh realities of slavery, alongside moments of genuine connection and fleeting joy.

As a young boy, Douglass had little responsibility aside from simple chores, but he was still subjected to the indignities faced by slave children. His narrative conveys a powerful image of the physical discomforts of slavery—the biting cold, inadequate clothing, and scant food—that were a constant presence in his life. The graphic detail of his suffering, such as sleeping in a corn bag on a cold clay floor, highlights the brutal conditions under which he lived.

Despite these hardships, Douglass finds solace in small connections. His relationship with Master Daniel Lloyd, who acts as a protector, offers a glimpse into the complexities of slave-master relationships. This bond provides Douglass with a modicum of safety amidst the otherwise oppressive environment.

Douglass's departure from Colonel Lloyd's plantation to live with Mr. Hugh Auld in Baltimore is painted as a moment of great anticipation and happiness. The possibility of a new life in a more urban setting stirs hope within him, allowing him to envision a better future. His excitement over the prospect of owning trousers—a symbol of dignity and the promise of a cleaner existence—represents a critical turning point in his perception of self-worth.

Reflecting on his departure, Douglass notes the absence of familial bonds that usually accompany such a life transition. With a dead mother and siblings who had been separated from him, his sense of home has been eroded, leading him to welcome the unknown of Baltimore. The lack of connection and affection towards his old home underscores the emotional toll of slavery and the deep scars it left on familial relationships.

At the same time, Douglass’s yearning for something better signifies his enduring spirit and resilience. The metaphor comparing his desire for Baltimore to the idea that "being hanged in England is preferable to dying a natural death in Ireland" captures the desperation for change. Douglass’s optimistic outlook, evident in his eagerness for new experiences, reveals a tenacity that would later fuel his relentless pursuit of freedom and justice.

Ultimately, these reflections in Douglass's narrative encapsulate not only the struggles of a young enslaved boy but also the indomitable human spirit that seeks dignity, connection, and liberation amidst the most oppressive circumstances. His journey is a testament to the resilience of those who suffered through slavery, holding onto hopes of a better life even when faced with unimaginable hardships.