Frederick Douglass -- Thomas Auld's Gift
.When they reached
town, they were interrogated in Thomas Auld’s store. Frederick
was wryly amused (and pleased) that his master doubted the allegation that the
men had engaged in a conspiracy. He
probably was also perplexed by the game his master was playing. Auld knew that his hysterical neighbors could
easily elevate the escape plot into a slave insurrection, led by his
slave. And if they did so, torture and
death lay ahead for Frederick . To quiet the rising excitement, Auld
acknowledged only a partial belief in Frederick ’s
guilt and insisted that he and the others be given a hearing. As owner of the chief conspirator, Auld had
charge of the interrogation (McFeely 54).
We all denied that we
ever intended to run away. We did this
more to bring out the evidence against us, than from any hope of getting clear
of being sold; for, as I have said, we were ready for that. … Our greatest concern was about
separation. We dreaded that more than
any thing this side of death. We found
the evidence against us to be the testimony of one person; our master would not
tell who it was; but we came to a unanimous decision amoung ourselves as to who
their informant was (Douglass 97).
They believed him to be Sandy Jenkins.
The questioning over,
Auld contended that only if the slaves had murdered someone would the evidence
have justified instant hanging. Instead,
they should be sent to jail and tried.
The five were dragged behind horses, stumbling, for fifteen miles, to Easton . There the sheriff put Frederick and the two Harrises in one jail
cell and Roberts and Bailey in another.
At least for the moment, their owners had gotten their valuable property
safely away from would-be lynchers. But
a new enemy appeared: “A swarm of imps, in human shape-the slave-traders,
deputy slave-traders, and agents of slave-traders—that gather in every country
town of the state, watching for chances to buy human flesh (as buzzards to eat
carrion), flocked in upon us, to ascertain if our masters had put us in jail to
be sold (McFeely 55).
They laughed and
grinned over us, saying, “Ah, my boys!
We have got you, haven’t we?” And
after taunting us in various ways, they one by one went into an examination of
us, with intent to ascertain our value.
They would impudently ask us it we would not like to have them for our
masters. We would make them no answer,
and leave them to find out as best they could.
Then they would curse and swear at us, telling us that they could take
the devil out of us in a very little while, if we were only in their hands (Douglass
98).
At their cell window,
Frederick and the Harrises tried, without luck, to get the attention of the
black waiters “flitting about in their white jackets” in front of the hotel
across the street. The prisoners were
hoping that these expert gleaners of gossip might have picked up word of their
fate, but they got no help from that quarter.
Alone in their surprisingly well fitted out white man’s cell, Frederick , John, and
Henry were in great suspense: “Every step on the stairway was listened to” with
apprehension. They knew a sale south was
likely for slaves undisciplined enough to plot an escape (McFeely 55).
Immediately after the
holidays were over, contrary to all our expectations, Mr. Hambleton and Mr.
Freeland came up to Easton, and took Charles, the two Henrys, and John, out of
jail, and carried them home, leaving me alone.
I regarded this separation as a final one. … I was ready for any thing rather than
separation. I supposed that they had
consulted together, and had decided that, as I was the whole cause of the
intention of the others to run away, it was hard to make the innocent suffer
with the guilty; and that they had, therefore, concluded to take the others
home, and see me, as a warning to the others that remained. It is due to the noble Henry [Harris] to say,
he seemed almost as reluctant at leaving the prison as at leaving home to come
to the prison (Douglass 98-99).
Henry was taken away
by William Freeland. “Not until this
final separation,” Douglass wrote twenty years later, “had I touched those profounder
depths of desolation, which it is the lot of slaves often to reach. I was solitary in the world, and alone within
the walls of a stone prison, left to a fate of life-long misery.” He was anticipating the “ever dreaded slave
life in Georgia , Louisiana and Alabama ,”
from which he could not escape. He was
also mourning the loss of friendship and even the loss, in some sense, of his
humanity. In his “loneliness,” he felt
that the “possibility of ever becoming anything but an abject slave, a mere machine
in the hands of an owner, had now fled.”
Thomas Auld had a
problem. His slave was known to be
dangerous. Mrs. Freeland regarded him as
one who could stir to insurrection slaves she insisted on believing were loyal;
Hambleton threatened to shoot the troublemaker if his son-in-law did not get
him out of the county. Rowena [Auld]
knew that she and Thomas could get the
price of a new house for a slave who had been nothing but trouble since his
arrival in St. Michael’s. If Frederick were to escape,
as he had already tried to do, the money he was worth would go with him. Auld was under severe pressure to sell his
slave, but he could not bring himself to do so.
Frederick’s seaman cousin, Tom, who had an excellent ear for news,
reported that Auld “walked the floor nearly all night” before going to the jail
to release Frederick .
Whatever the tortured
bond between the two, … Auld could not doom the boy, now grown to be a man-a
person-about whom in his clumsy, tormented way he cared immensely. Telling both his neighbors and Frederick that
he was going to sell him to a friend in Alabama ,
Auld brought his slave home after he had been alone in the jail for a
week. Frederick
knew that Auld had no friend in Alabama
and uneasily sensed that he was wavering.
When the two were alone, in what must have been a moment of great
intensity, Thomas told him he was sending him back to Baltimore , to Hugh, to learn to be a skilled
laborer. With a trade, Frederick could be hired out at a profit, or
so Auld must have told his wife. And-as
he probably did not tell her-he promised Fredrick that if he worked diligently
at a trade (and stayed out of trouble) he would set him free when he became
twenty-five. As he raised the young
man’s hopes, Auld must have known that he would now lose Frederick-not into
endless labor in a cotton field in the Deep South, but to the risks of Baltimore .
The escape attempt had
taught Thomas Auld how likely it was that the resolute, stubborn, strong, and
bright young men would either get into fatal trouble in the city or escape into
freedom in the North. Either way, he
would be lost to him. Quietly, Thomas
put Frederick
on a boat for Fells Point.
Freedom would come for
Frederick Bailey. … Frederick knew he would not wait until the
far-off age of twenty-five to test the reliability of Auld’s promise; he would
free himself somehow. But when that
great goal was attained, he would be a debtor … For his freedom-for his life-he
would for the rest of that life be beholden to a white man whom he had loved
and whom he now had to remember to loathe (McFeely 55-57).
So it was in his first book, Narration of the Life of Frederick Douglass, that Frederick , about their separation, denied his
master appreciative words. As much an
indictment of slavery as it is an account of his own escape from bondage, the
book could not contain self-defeating words of praise. Instead, Frederick concluded this chapter of his life
with the following paragraph.
Thus, after an absence
of three years and one month, I was once more permitted to return to my old
home in Baltimore . My master sent me away, because there existed
against me a very great prejudice in the community, and he feared I might be
killed (Douglass 99).
Works cited:
Douglass, Frederick . Narrative
of the Life of Frederick Douglass.
New York, Penguin Books USA inc., 1968.
Print.
McFeely, William S. Frederick Douglass. New
York , W. W. Norton & Company, 1991. Print.
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