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All double right and left quotation marks are encoded as " and " respectively. All single right and left quotation marks are encoded as ' and ' respectively. Indentation in lines has not been preserved. Running titles have not been preserved. African Americans -- Maryland -- Biography. Douglass, Frederick, Fugitive slaves -- Maryland -- Biography.
Plantation life -- Maryland -- History -- 19th century. Slavery -- Maryland -- History -- 19th century. Slavery -- United States -- History -- 19th century. Slaves -- Maryland -- Biography. Slaves -- Maryland -- Social conditions -- 19th century. Slaves' writings, American -- Maryland. African American abolitionists -- Maryland -- Biography. Antislavery movements -- United States. We know full well the wonderful things which have occurred or have been accomplished here in the past, but the still more wonderful things which we may well say will happen in the centuries of development which lie before us, is vain conjecture, it lies in the domain of speculation.
America will be the field for the demonstration of truths not now accepted and the establishment of a new and higher civilization. Up to this time the most remarkable contribution this country has given to the world is the Author and subject of this book, now being introduced to the public--Frederick Douglass.
The contribution comes naturally and legitimately and to some not unexpectedly, nevertheless it is altogether unique and must be regarded as truly remarkable. Our Pantheon contains many that are illustrious and worthy, but Douglass is unlike all others, he is sui generis.
For every other great character we can bring forward, Europe can produce another equally as great; when we bring forward Douglass, he cannot be matched. Douglass was born a slave, he won his liberty; he is of negro extraction, and consequently was despised and outraged; he has by his own energy and force of character commanded the respect of the Nation; he was ignorant, he has, against law and by stealth and entirely unaided, educated himself; he was poor, he has by honest toil and industry become rich and independent, so to speak: he, a chattel slave of a hated and Page iv cruelly wronged race, in the teeth of American prejudice and in face of nearly every kind of hindrance and draw-back, has come to be one of the foremost orators of the age, with a reputation established on both sides of the Atlantic; a writer of power and elegance of expression; a thinker whose views are potent in controlling and shaping public opinion; a high officer in the National Government; a cultivated gentleman whose virtues as a husband, father, and citizen, are the highest honor a man can have.
Frederick Douglass stands upon a pedestal; he has reached this lofty height through years of toil and strife, but it has been the strife of moral ideas; strife in the battle for human rights. No bitter memories come from this strife; no feelings of remorse can rise to cast their gloomy shadows over his soul; Douglass has now reached and passed the meridian of life, his co-laborers in the strife have now nearly all passed away.
Garrison has gone, Gerritt Smith has gone, Giddings and Sumner have gone,--nearly all the early abolitionists are gone to their reward. The culmination of his life work has been reached; the object dear to his heart--the Emancipation of the slaves--has been accomplished, through the blessings of God; he stands facing the goal, already reached by his co-laborers, with a halo of peace about him, and nothing but serenity and gratitude must fill his breast.
To those, who in the past--in ante-bellum days--in any degree shared with Douglass his hopes and feelings on the slavery question, this serenity of mind, this gratitude, can be understood and felt. All Americans, no matter what may have been their views on slavery, now that freedom has come and slavery is ended, must have a restful feeling and be glad that the source of bitterness and trouble is removed.
The man who is sorry because of the abolition of slavery, has outlived his day and generation; he should have insisted upon being buried with the "lost cause" at Appomattox. We rejoice that Douglass has attained unto this exalted position--this pedestal. It has been honorably reached; it is Page v a just recognition of talent and effort; it is another proof that success attends high and noble aim. With this example, the black boy as well as the white boy can take hope and courage in the race of life.
Douglass' life has been a romance--and a fragrance--to the age. There has been just enough mystery about his origin and escape from slavery to throw a charm about them. The odd proceedings in the purchase of his freedom after his escape from slavery; his movements in connection with the John Brown raid at Harper's Ferry and his subsequent flight across the ocean are romantic as anything which took place among the crags and cliffs, the Roderick Dhus and Douglasses of the Lady of the Lake; while the pure life he has led and his spotless character are sweet by contrast with the lives of mere politicians and time serving statesmen.
It is well to contemplate one like him, who has had "hair breadth escapes. To say that his life has been eventful, is hardly the word. From the time when he first saw the light on the Tuckahoe plantation up to the time he was called to fill a high official position, his life has been crowded with events which in some sense may be called miracles, and now since his autobiography has come to be written, we must understand the hour of retrospect has come--for casting up and balancing accounts as to work done or left undone.
It is more than forty years now that he has been before the world as a writer and speaker--busy, active, wonderful years to him--and we are called upon to pass judgment upon his labors. What can we say? Can he claim the well done good and faithful? The record shows this, and we must state it, generally speaking, his life has been devoted to his race and the cause of his race.
The freedom and elevation of his people has been his life work, and it has been done well and faithfully. That is the record, and that is sufficient. Douglass found his people enslaved and oppressed. He has given the best years of his life to the improvement of their condition, and, now that he looks back upon his labors, may he not say he has "attempted" and "done" something?
The first twenty-three years of Douglass' life were twenty-three years of slavery, obscurity, and degradation, yet doubtless in time to come these years will be regarded by the student of history the most interesting portion of his life; to those who in the future would know the inside history of American slavery, this part of his life will be specially instructive. Plantation life at Tuckahoe as related by him is not fiction, it is fact; it is not the historian's dissertation on slavery, it is slavery itself, the slave's life, acts, and thoughts, and the life, acts, and thoughts of those around him.
It is Macauley I think who says that a copy of a daily newspaper [if there were such] published at Rome would give more information and be of more value than any history we have. So, too, this photographic view of slave life as given to us in the autobiography of an ex-slave will give to the reader a clearer insight of the system of slavery than can be gained from the examination of general history.
Lloyd's plantation, where Douglass belonged, was very much like other plantations of the south. Here was the great house and the cabins, the old Aunties and patriarchal Uncles, little picanninies and picanninies not so little, of every shade of complexion, from ebony black to whiteness of the master race; mules, overseers, and broken down fences. Here was the negro Doctor learned in the science of roots and herbs; also the black conjurer with his divination.
Here was slave-breeding and slave-selling, whipping, torturing, and beating to Page vii death. All this came under the observation of Douglass and is a part of the education he received while under the yoke of bondage. He was there in the midst of this confusion, ignorance, and brutality.
Little did the overseer on this plantation think that he had in his gang a man of superior order and undaunted spirit, whose mind, far above the minds of the grovelling creatures about him, was at that very time plotting schemes for his liberty; nor did the thought ever enter the mind of Col. Lloyd, the rich slaveholder, that he had upon his estate one who was destined to assail the system of slavery with more power and effect than any other person. Douglass' fame will rest mainly, no doubt, upon his oratory.
His powers in this direction are very great and in some respects unparalleled by our living speakers. His oratory is his own and apparently formed after the model of no single person. It is not after the Edmund Burke style, which has been so closely followed by Everett, Sumner, and others, and which has resulted in giving us splendid and highly embellished essays rather than natural and not overwrought speeches. If his oratory must be classified, it should be placed somewhere between the Fox and Henry Clay schools.
Like Clay, Douglass' greatest effect is upon his immediate hearers, those who see him and feel his presence, and like Clay a good part of his oratorical fame will be tradition. The most striking feature of Douglass' oratory is his fire, not the quick and flashy kind, but the steady and intense kind.
If oratory consists of the power to move men by spoken words, Douglass is a complete orator. He can make men laugh or cry, at his will. He has power of statement, logic, withering denunciation, pathos, humor, and inimitable wit. Daniel Webster with his immense intellectuality had no humor, not a particle. It does not appear that he could even see the point of a joke. Douglass is brim full of humor at Page viii times, of the dryest kind. It is of a quiet kind. You can see it coming a long way off in a peculiar twitch of his mouth; it increases and broadens gradually until it becomes irresistible and all-pervading with his audience.
Douglass' rank as a writer is high, and justly so. His writings, if anything, are more meritorious than his speaking. For many years he was the editor of newspapers, doing all of the editorial work. He has contributed largely to magazines. He is a forcible and thoughtful writer. His style is pure and graceful, and he has great felicity of expression.
His written productions in finish compare favorably with the written productions of our most cultivated writers. His style comes partly, no doubt, from his long and constant practice, but the true source is his clear mind, which is well stored by a close acquaintance with the best authors.
His range of reading has been wide and extensive. He has been a hard student. In every sense of the word he is a self-made man. By dint of hard study he has educated himself, and to-day it may be said he has a well-trained intellect. He has surmounted the disadvantage of not having an university education, by application and well-directed effort. He seems to have realized the fact that to one who is anxious to become educated and is really in earnest, it is not positively necessary to go to college, and that information may be had outside of college walks; books may be obtained and read elsewhere, they are not chained to desks in college libraries as they were in early times at Oxford; Professors' lectures may be bought already printed; learned doctors may be listened to in the Lyceum; and the printing press has made it easy and cheap to get information on every subject and topic that is discussed and taught in the University.
Douglass never made the great mistake a common one of considering that his education was finished. He has continued to study, he studies now, and is a growing man, and at this present moment he is a stronger man intellectually than ever before. Soon after Douglass' escape from Maryland to the Northern Page ix States, he commenced his public career. It was at New Bedford as a local Methodist preacher and by taking part in small public meetings held by colored people, wherein anti-slavery and other matters were discussed.
There he laid the foundation of the splendid career which is now about drawing to a close. In these meetings Douglass gave evidence that he possessed uncommon powers, and it was plainly to be seen that he needed only a field and opportunity to display them. That field and opportunity soon came, as it always does to possessors of genius.
He became a member and agent of the American Anti-Slavery society. Then commenced his great crusade against slavery in behalf of his oppressed brethren at the South. He waged violent and unceasing war against slavery. He went through every town and hamlet in the Free States, raising his voice against the iniquitous system. Just escaped from the prison-house himself, to tear down the walls of the same and to let the oppressed go free, was the mission which engaged the powers of his soul and body.
North, East, and West, all through the land went this escaped slave delivering his warning message against the doomed cities of the South. The ocean did not stop nor hinder him. Across the Atlantic he went, through England, Ireland, and Scotland. Wherever people could be found to listen to his story, he pleaded the cause of his enslaved and down-trodden brethren with vehemence and great power. From to , the time of the commencement of the civil war, which extirpated slavery in this country, Douglass was continuously speaking on the platform, writing for his newspaper and for magazines, or working in conventions for the abolition of slavery.
The life and work of Douglass has been a complete vindication of the colored people in this respect; it has refuted and overthrown the position taken by some writers that colored people were deficient in mental qualifications and were incapable of attaining high intellectual position.
We may reasonably Page x expect to hear no more of this now, the argument is exploded. Douglass has settled the fact the right way, and it is something to settle a fact. That Douglass is a brave man there can be little doubt. He has physical as well as moral courage. His encounter with the overseer of the eastern shore plantation attests his pluck. There the odds were against him, everything was against him--there the unwritten rule of law was, that the negro who dared to strike a white man, must be killed, but Douglass fought the overseer and whipped him.
His plotting with other slaves to escape, writing and giving them passes, and the unequal and desperate fight maintained by him in the Baltimore ship yard, where law and public sentiment were against him, also show that he has courage.
But since the day of his slavery, while living here at the North, many instances have happened which show very plainly that he is a man of courage and determination; if he had not been, he would have long since succumbed to the brutality and violence of the low and mean spirited people found in the Free States.
Up to a very recent date it has been deemed quite safe even here in the North to insult and impose on inoffensive colored people, to elbow a colored man from the sidewalk, to jeer at him and apply vile epithets to him, in some localities this has been the rule and not the exception, and to put him out of public conveyances and public places by force, was of common occurrence. It made little difference that the colored man was decent, civil, and respectably clad, and had paid his fare, if the proprietor of the place or his patrons took the notion that the presence of the colored man was an affront to their dignity or inconsistent with their notions of self-respect, out he must go.
Nor must he stand upon the order of his going, but go at once. It was against this feeling that Douglass had to contend. He met it often; he was a prominent colored man traveling from place to place. A good part of the time he was in strange cities stopping at strange taverns--that is, when he was allowed to stop.
Time and again has be been Page xi refused accommodation in hotels. Time and again has he been in a strange places with nowhere to lay his head until some kind anti-slavery person would come forward and give him shelter; and as to riding in public conveyances, mean spirited conductors at one time made it a rule to put all colored people, nolens volens , in the smoking car. Many times was Douglass subjected to this indignity.
The writer of this remembers well, because he was present and saw the transaction,--the John Brown meeting in Tremont Temple in , when a violent mob composed of the rough element from the slums of the city, led and encouraged by bankers and brokers came into the hall to break up the meeting.
Douglass was presiding; the mob was armed; the police were powerless: the mayor could not or would not do anything. On came the mob surging through the aisles over benches and upon the platform; the women in the audience became alarmed and fled. The hirelings were prepared to do anything, they had the power and could with impunity. Douglass sat upon the platform with a few chosen spirits, cool and undaunted; the mob had got about and around him; he did not heed their howling nor was he moved by their threats.
It was not until their leader, a rich banker, with his followers, had mounted the platform and wrenched the chair from under him that he was dispossessed, by main force and personal violence Douglass resisting all the time they removed him from the platform.
Free speech was violated; Boston was disgraced; but the Chairman of that meeting was not intimidated. It affords me great pleasure to introduce to the public this book, "The Life and Times of Frederick Douglass. We point with pride to this trio of illustrious names. I bid my fellow country men take new hope and courage; the near future will Page xii bring us other men of worth and genius, and our list of illustrious names will become lengthened. Until that time the duty is to work and wait.
Author's place of birth--Description of country--Its inhabitants-- Genealogical trees--Method of counting time in slave districts--Date of author's birth--Names of grandparents--Their cabin--Home with them--Slave practice of separating mothers from their children-- Author's recollections of his mother--Who was his father? Author's early home--Its charms--Author's ignorance of "old master"--His gradual perception of the truth concerning him--His relations to Col.
Edward Lloyd--Author's removal to "old master's" home--His journey thence--His separation from his grandmother--His grief. Lloyd's plantation--Aunt Katy--Her cruelty and ill-nature--Capt. Increasing acquaintance with old master--Evils of unresisted passion-- Apparent tenderness--A man of trouble--Custom of muttering to himself--Brutal outrage--A drunken overseer--Slaveholder's Impatience--Wisdom of appeal--A base and selfish attempt to break up a courtship. The author's early reflections on slavery--Aunt Jennie and Uncle Noah --Presentment of one day becoming a freeman--Conflict between an overseer and a slave woman--Advantage of resistance--Death of an overseer--Col.
Lloyd's plantation home--Monthly distribution of food--Singing of slaves--An explanation--The slaves' food and clothing --Naked children--Life in the quarter--Sleeping places--not beds-- Deprivation of sleep--Care of nursing babies--Ash cake--Contrast. Contrasts--Great House luxuries--Its hospitality--Entertainments-- Fault-finding--Shameful humiliation an old and faithful coachman -- William Wilks--Curious incident--Expressed satisfaction not always genuine--Reasons for suppressing the truth.
Lloyd--Other horrible murders--No laws for the protection of slaves possible of being enforced. City annoyances--Plantation regrets--My mistress--Her history--Her kindness--My master--His sourness--My comforts--Increased sensitiveness--My occupation--Learning to read--Baneful effects of slave-holding on my dear, good mistress-- Mr. Hugh forbids Mrs.
Hamilton's two slaves--Mrs. Hamilton's cruel treatment of them--Piteous aspect presented by them --No power to come between the slave and slaveholder. Sophia--My hatred of slavery--One Upas tree overshadows us all. Abolitionists spoken of--Eagerness to know the meaning of the word-- Consults the dictionary--Incendiary information--The enigma solved-- "Nat Turner" insurrection--Cholera--Religion--Methodist Minister-- Religious impressions--Father Lawson--His character and occupation --His influence over me--Our mutual attachment--New hopes and aspirations--Heavenly light--Two Irishmen on wharf--Conversation with them--Learning to write--My aims.
Michaels and its inhabitants--Capt. Auld did there--Hopes--Suspicions--The result--Faith and works at variance--Position in the church--Poor Cousin Henny-- Methodist preachers--Their disregard of the slaves--One exception--Sabbath-school--How and by whom broken up--Sad change in my prospects-- Covey, the negro-breaker. Journey to Covey's--Meditations by the way--Covey's house--Family --Awkwardness as a field hand--A cruel beating--Why given-- Description of Covey--First attempt at driving oxen--Hair-breadth escape--Ox and man alike property--Hard labor more effective than the whip for breaking down the spirit--Cunning and trickery of Covey--Family worship--Shocking and indecent contempt for chastity--Great mental agitation--Anguish beyond description.
New Year's thoughts and meditations--Again hired by Freeland--Kindness no compensation for slavery--Incipient steps toward escape --Considerations leading thereto--Hostility to slavery--Solemn vow taken--Plan divulged to slaves--Columbian Orator again--Scheme gains favor--Danger of discovery--Skill of slaveholders--Suspicion and coercion--Hymns with double meaning--Consultation--Password-- Hope and fear--Ignorance of Geography--Imaginary difficulties-- Patrick Henry--Sandy a dreamer--Route to the north mapped out-- Objections--Frauds--Passes--Anxieties--Fear of failure--Strange presentiment--Coincidence--Betrayal--Arrests-- Resistance--Mrs.
Nothing lost in my attempt to run away--Comrades at home--Reasons for sending me away--Return to Baltimore--Tommy changed--Caulking in Gardiner's ship yard--Desperate fight--Its causes--Conflict between white and black labor--Outrage--Testimony--Master Hugh-- Slavery in Baltimore--My condition improves--New associations-- Slaveholder's right to the slave's wages--How to make a discontented slave. Closing incidents in my "Life as a Slave"--Discontent--Suspicions-- Master's generosity--Difficulties in the way of escape--Plan to obtain money--Allowed to hire my time--A gleam of hope--Attend camp-meeting--Anger of Master Hugh--The result--Plans of escape--Day for departure fixed--Harassing doubts and fears--Painful thoughts of separation from friends.
Reasons for not having revealed the manner of escape--Nothing of romance in the method--Danger--Free Papers--Unjust tax--Protection papers--"Free trade and sailor's rights"--American eagle--Railroad train-- Unobserving conductor--Capt. Danger to be averted--A refuge sought abroad--Voyage on the steamship Cambria--Refusal of first-class passage--Attractions of the forecastle-deck--Hutchinson family--Invited to make a speech-- Southerners feel insulted--Captain threatens to put them in irons-- Experiences abroad--Attentions received--Impressions of different members of Parliament, and of other public men--Contrast with life in America--Kindness of friends--Their purchase of my person, and the gift of the same to myself--My return.
My First Meeting with Capt. Satisfaction and anxiety, new fields of labor opening--Lyceums and colleges soliciting addresses--Literary attractions--Pecuniary gain-- Still pleading for human rights--President Andy Johnson--Colored delegation--Their reply to him--National Loyalist Convention, , and its procession--Not Wanted--Meeting with an old friend--Joy and surprise--The old master's welcome, and Miss Amanda's friendship-- Enfranchisement debated and accomplished--The Negro a citizen.
Auld's admission "had I been in your place, I should have done as you did"--Speech at Easton--The old jail there--Invited to a sail on the revenue cutter Page xxiii Guthrie--Hon. John L. Thomas--Visit to the old plantation--Home of Col. Gerrit Smith and Mr. Delevan--Experiences at Hotels and on Steamboats and other modes of travel--Hon.
Edward Marshall-- Grace Greenwood--Hon. Moses Norris--Rob't J. Ingersoll--Reflections and conclusions--Compensations. Author's place of birth--Description of country--Its inhabitants-- Genealogical trees--Method of counting time in slave districts-- Date of author's birth--Names of grandparents--Their cabin-- Home with them--Slave practice of separating mothers from their children--Author's recollections of his mother--Who was his father? IN Talbot County, Eastern Shore, State of Maryland, near Easton, the county town, there is a small district of country, thinly populated, and remarkable for nothing that I know of more than for the worn-out, sandy, desert-like appearance of its soil, the general dilapidation of its farms and fences, the indigent and spiritless character of its inhabitants, and the prevalence of ague and fever.
It was in this dull, flat, and unthrifty district or neighborhood, bordered by the Choptank river, among the laziest and muddiest of streams surrounded by a white population of the lowest order, indolent and drunken to a proverb, and among slaves who, in point of ignorance and indolence, were fully in accord with their surroundings, that I, without any fault of my own, was born, and spent the first years of my childhood.
The reader must not expect me to say much of my family. Genealogical trees did not flourish among slaves. A person of some consequence in civilized society, sometimes designated as father, was literally unknown to slave law and slave practice. I never met with a slave in that part of the country who could tell me with any certainty how old he was.
Few at that time knew anything of the months of the year or of Page 14 the days of the month. They measured the ages of their children by spring-time, winter-time, harvest-time, planting-time, and the like. Masters allowed no questions to be put to them by slaves concerning their ages. Such questions were regarded by the masters as evidence of an impudent curiosity. From certain events, however, the dates of which I have since learned, I suppose myself to have been born in February, My first experience of life, as I now remember it, and I remember it but hazily, began in the family of my grandmother and grandfather, Betsey and Isaac Bailey.
They were considered old settlers in the neighborhood, and from certain circumstances I infer that my grandmother, especially, was held in high esteem, far higher than was the lot of most colored persons in that region. She was a good nurse, and a capital hand at making nets used for catching shad and herring, and was, withal, somewhat famous as a fisherwoman. I have known her to be in the water waist deep, for hours, seine-hauling. She was a gardener as well as a fisherwoman, and remarkable for her success in keeping her seedling sweet potatoes through the months of winter, and easily got the reputation of being born to "good luck.
This reputation was full of advantage to her and her grandchildren, for a good crop, after her planting for the neighbors, brought her a share of the harvest. Whether because she was too old for field service, or because she had so faithfully discharged the duties of her station in early life, I know not, but she enjoyed the high privilege of living in a cabin separate from the quarters, having only the charge of the young children and the burden of her own support imposed upon her.
She esteemed it great good fortune to live so, and took much comfort in having the children. The practice of separating mothers from their children and Page 15 hiring them out at distances too great to admit of their meeting, save at long intervals, was a marked feature of the cruelty and barbarity of the slave system; but it was in harmony with the grand aim of that system, which always and everywhere sought to reduce man to a level with the brute.
It had no interest in recognizing or preserving any of the ties that bind families together or to their homes. My grandmother's five daughters were hired out in this way, and my only recollections of my own mother are of a few hasty visits made in the night on foot, after the daily tasks were over, and when she was under the necessity of returning in time to respond to the driver's call to the field in the early morning.
These little glimpses of my mother, obtained under such circumstances and against such odds, meager as they were, are ineffaceably stamped upon my memory. She was tall and finely proportioned, of dark glossy complexion, with regular features, and amongst the slaves was remarkably sedate and dignified. There is, in "Prichard's Natural History of Man," the head of a figure, on page , the features of which so resemble my mother that I often recur to it with something of the feelings which I suppose others experience when looking upon the likenesses of their own dear departed ones.
Of my father I know nothing. Slavery had no recognition of fathers, as none of families. That the mother was a slave was enough for its deadly purpose. By its law the child followed the condition of its mother. The father might be a freeman and the child a slave. The father might be a white man, glorying in the purity of his Anglo-Saxon blood, and his child ranked with the blackest slaves.
Father he might be, and not be husband, and could sell his own child without incurring reproach, if in its veins coursed one drop of African blood. Author's early home--Its charms--Author's ignorance of "old master"--Gradual perception of the truth concerning him--His relations to Col.
Edward Lloyd-- Author's removal to "old master's" home--His journey thence--His separation from his grandmother--His grief. Living thus with my grandmother, whose kindness and love stood in place of my mother's, it was some time before I knew myself to be a slave.
I knew many other things before I knew that. Her little cabin had to me the attractions of a palace. Its fence-railed floor--which was equally floor and bedstead--up stairs, and its clay floor down stairs, its dirt and straw chimney, and windowless sides, and that most curious piece of workmanship, the ladder stairway, and the hole so strangely dug in front of the fire-place, beneath which grandmamma placed her sweet potatoes, to keep them from frost in winter, were full of interest to my childish observation.
The squirrels, as they skipped the fences, climbed the trees, or gathered their nuts, were an unceasing delight to me. There, too, right at the side of the hut, stood the old well, with its stately and skyward-pointing beam, so aptly placed between the limbs of what had once been a tree, and so nicely balanced, that I could move it up and down with only one hand, and could get a drink myself without calling for help.
Nor were these all the attractions of the place. At a little distance stood Mr. Lee's mill, where the people came in large numbers to get their corn ground. I can never tell the many things thought and felt, as I sat on the bank and watched that mill, and the turning of its ponderous wheel. The mill-pond, too, had its charms; and with my pin-hook and thread line I could get amusing nibbles if I could catch no fish. 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 some one I had never seen, and who lived a great distance off.
I learned, too, the sadder fact, that not only the home and lot, but that grandmother herself and all the little children around her belonged to a mysterious personage, called by grandmother, with every mark of reverence, "Old Master. I learned that this old master, whose name seemed ever to be mentioned with fear and shuddering, only allowed the little children to live with grandmother for a limited time, and that as soon as they were big enough they were promptly taken away to live with the said old master.
These were distressing revelations indeed. My grandmother was all the world to me, and the thought of being separated from her was a most unwelcome suggestion to my affections and hopes. This mysterious old master was really a man of some consequence. He owned several farms in Tuckahoe, was the chief clerk and butler on the home plantation of Colonel Lloyd, had overseers as well as slaves on his own farms, and gave directions to the overseers on the farms owned by Colonel Lloyd.
Captain Aaron Anthony, for such is the name and title of my old master, lived on Colonel Lloyd's plantation, which was situated on the Wye river, and which was one of the largest, most fertile, and best appointed in the State. About this plantation and this old master I was most eager to know everything which could be known; and, unhappily for me, all the information I could get concerning him increased my dread of being separated from my grandmother and grandfather.
I wished it was possible I could remain small all my life, knowing that the sooner I grew large the shorter would be my time to remain with them. Everything about the cabin became doubly dear, and I was sure there could be no other spot equal to it on earth. But the time came when I must go, and my grandmother, knowing my fears, in pity Page 18 for them, kindly kept me ignorant of the dreaded moment up to the morning a beautiful summer morning when we were to start, and, indeed, during the whole journey, which, child as I was, I remember as well as if it were yesterday, she kept the unwelcome truth hidden from me.
The distance from Tuckahoe to Colonel Lloyd's, where my old master lived, was full twelve miles, and the walk was quite a severe test of the endurance of my young legs. The journey would have proved too severe for me, but that my dear old grandmother blessings on her memory afforded occasional relief by "toteing" me on her shoulder. Advanced in years as she was, as was evident from the more than one gray hair which peeped from between the ample and graceful folds of her newly and smoothly ironed bandana turban, grandmother was yet a woman of power and spirit.
She was remarkably straight in figure, elastic and muscular in movement. I seemed hardly to be a burden to her. She would have "toted" me farther, but I felt myself too much of a man to allow it. Yet while I walked I was not independent of her. She often found me holding her skirts lest something should come out of the woods and eat me up. Several old logs and stumps imposed upon me, and got themselves taken for enormous animals.
I could plainly see their legs, eyes, ears, and teeth, till I got close enough to see that the eyes were knots, washed white with rain, and the legs were broken limbs, and the ears and teeth only such because of the point from which they were seen.
As the day advanced the heat increased, and it was not until the afternoon that we reached the much dreaded end of the journey. Here I found myself in the midst of a group of children of all sizes and of many colors, black, brown, copper colored, and nearly white. I had not seen so many children before. As a new comer I was an object of special interest. After laughing and yelling around me and playing all sorts of wild tricks they asked me to go out and play with them. This I refused to do.
Grandmamma looked sad, and I could not help feeling that our being there boded no good to me. Page 19 She was soon to lose another object of affection, as she had lost many before. Affectionately patting me on the head she told me to be a good boy and go out to play with the children.
They are "kin to you," she said, "go and play with them. I had never seen them before, and though I had sometimes heard of them and felt a curious interest in them, I really did not understand what they were to me or I to them. Brothers and sisters we were by blood, but slavery had made us strangers.
They were already initiated into the mysteries of old master's domicile, and they seemed to look upon me with a certain degree of compassion. I really wanted to play with them, but they were strangers to me, and I was full of fear that my grandmother might leave for home without taking me with her.
Entreated to do so, however, and that, too, by my dear grandmother, I went to the back part of the house to play with them and the other children. Play, however, I did not, but stood with my back against the wall witnessing the playing of the others. At last, while standing there, one of the children, who had been in the kitchen, ran up to me in a sort of roguish glee, exclaiming, "Fed, Fed, grandmamma gone! Yet, fearing the worst, I ran into the kitchen to see for myself, and lo!
I need not tell all that happened now. Almost heart-broken at the discovery, I fell upon the ground and wept a boy's bitter tears, refusing to be comforted. My brother gave me peaches and pears to quiet me, but I promptly threw them on the ground. I had never been deceived before, and something of resentment at this, mingled with my grief at parting with my grandmother.
It was now late in the afternoon. The day had been an exciting and wearisome one, and, I know not where, but I suppose I sobbed myself to sleep, and its balm was never more welcome to any wounded soul than to mine. The reader may be surprised that I relate so minutely an incident apparently Page 20 so trivial and which must have occurred when I was less than seven years old, but as I wish to give a faithful history of my experience in slavery, I cannot withhold a circumstance which at the time affected me so deeply, and which I still remember so vividly.
Besides, this was my first introduction to the realities of the slave system. Lloyd's plantation-Aunt Katy--Her cruelty and ill-nature--Capt. ONCE established on the home plantation of Col. Lloyd--I was with the children there, left to the tender mercies of Aunt Katy, a slave woman who was to my master what he was to Col. Disposing of us in classes or sizes, he left to Aunt Katy all the minor details concerning our management.
She was a woman who never allowed herself to act greatly within the limits of delegated power, no matter how broad that authority might be. Ambitious of old master's favor, ill-tempered and cruel by nature, she found in her present position an ample field for the exercise of her ill-omened qualities. She had a strong hold upon old master, for she was a first-rate cook, and very industrious.
She was therefore greatly favored by him--and as one mark of his favor she was the only mother who was permitted to retain her children around her, and even to these, her own children, she was often fiendish in her brutality. Cruel, however, as she sometimes was to her own children, she was not destitute of maternal feeling, and in her instinct to satisfy their demands for food, she was often guilty of starving me and the other children. Want of food was my chief trouble during my first summer here.
Captain Anthony, instead of allowing a given quantity of food to each slave, committed the allowance for all to Aunt Katy, to be divided by her, after cooking, amongst us. The allowance consisted of coarse corn meal, not very abundant, Page 22 and which by passing through Aunt Katy's hands, became more slender still for some of us. I have often been so pinched with hunger, as to dispute with old "Nep," the dog, for the crumbs which fell from the kitchen table. Many times have I followed with eager step, the waiting-girl when she shook the table-cloth, to get the crumbs and small bones flung out for the dogs and cats.
It was a great thing to have the privilege of dipping a piece of bread into the water in which meat had been boiled--and the skin taken from the rusty bacon was a positive luxury. With this description of the domestic arrangements of my new home, I may here recount a circumstance which is deeply impressed on my memory, as affording a bright gleam of a slave-mother's love, and the earnestness of a mother's care. I had offended Aunt Katy. I do not remember in what way, for my offences were numerous in that quarter, greatly depending upon her moods as to their heinousness, and she had adopted her usual mode of punishing me: namely, making me go all day without food.
For the first hour or two after dinner time, I succeeded pretty well in keeping up my spirits; but as the day wore away, I found it quite impossible to do so any longer. Sundown came, but no bread; and in its stead came the threat from Aunt Katy, with a scowl well suited to its terrible import, that she would starve the life out of me. Brandishing her knife, she chopped off the heavy slices of bread for the other children, and put the loaf away, muttering all the while her savage designs upon myself.
Against this disappointment, for I was expecting that her heart would relent at last, I made an extra effort to maintain my dignity, but when I saw the other children around me with satisfied faces, I could stand it no longer. I went out behind the kitchen wall and cried like a fine fellow. When wearied with this, I returned to the kitchen, sat by the fire and brooded over my hard lot. I was too hungry to sleep. While I sat in the corner, I caught sight of an ear of Indian corn upon an upper shelf.
I watched my chance and got it; and shelling off a few grains, I put it back again. I did this at the risk of getting a brutal thumping, for Aunt Katy could beat as well as starve me. My corn was not long in roasting, and I eagerly pulled it from the ashes, and placed it upon a stool in a clever little pile. I began to help myself, when who but my own dear mother should come in. The scene which followed is beyond my power to describe.
The friendless and hungry boy, in his extremest need, found himself in the strong protecting arms his mother. I have before spoken my mother's dignified and impressive manner. I shall never forget the indescribable expression of her countenance when I told her that Aunt Katy had said she would starve the life out of me.
There was deep and tender pity in her glance at me, and a fiery indignation at Aunt Katy at the same moment, and while she took the corn from me, and gave in its stead a large ginger cake, she read Aunt Katy a lecture which was never forgotten. That night I learned as I had never learned before, that I was not only a child, but somebody's child.
I was grander upon my mother's knee than a king upon his throne. But my triumph was short. I dropped off to sleep, and waked in the morning to find my mother gone and myself at the mercy again of the virago in my master's kitchen, whose fiery wrath was my constant dread. My mother had walked twelve miles to see me, and had the same distance to travel over again before the morning sunrise.
I do not remember ever seeing her again. Her death soon ended the little communication that had existed between us, and with it, I believe, a life full of weariness and heartfelt sorrow. To me it has ever been a grief that I knew my mother so little, and have so few of her words treasured in my remembrance.
I have since learned that she was the only one of all the colored people of Tuckahoe who could read. How she acquired this knowledge I know not, for Tuckahoe was the last place in the world where she would have been likely to find facilities for learning. I can therefore fondly and proudly ascribe to her, an earnest love of knowledge.
Page 24 That a field-hand should learn to read in any slave State is remarkable, but the achievements of my mother, considering the place and circumstances, was very extraordinary. In view of this fact, I am happy to attribute any love of letters I may have, not to my presumed Anglo-Saxon paternity, but to the native genius of my sable, unprotected, and uncultivated mother--a woman who belonged to a race whose mental endowments are still disparaged and despised.
IT was generally supposed that slavery in the State of Maryland existed in its mildest form, and that it was totally divested of those harsh and terrible peculiarities which characterized the slave system in the Southern and South Western States of the American Union. The ground of this opinion was the contiguity of the free States, and the influence of their moral, religious, and humane sentiments.
Public opinion was, indeed, a measurable restraint upon the cruelty and barbarity of masters, overseers, and slave-drivers, whenever and wherever it could reach them; but there were certain secluded and out of the way places, even in the State of Maryland, fifty years ago, seldom visited by a single ray of healthy public sentiment, where slavery, wrapt in its own congenial darkness, could and did develop all its malign and shocking characteristics, where it could be indecent without shame, cruel without shuddering, and murderous without apprehension or fear of exposure, or punishment.
Just such a secluded, dark, and out of the way place, was the home plantation of Colonel Edward Lloyd, in Talbot county, eastern shore of Maryland. It was far away from all the great thoroughfares of travel and commerce, and proximate to no town or village. There was neither school-house nor town-house in its neighborhood. The school-house was unnecessary, for there were Page 26 no children to go to school. The children and grand-children of Col.
Lloyd were taught in the house by a private tutor a Mr. Page from Greenfield, Massachusetts, a tall, gaunt, sapling of a man, remarkably dignified, thoughtful, and reticent, and who did not speak a dozen words to a slave in a whole year. The overseer's children went off somewhere in the State to school, and therefore could bring no foreign or dangerous influence from abroad to embarrass the natural operation of the slave system of the place.
Not even the commonest mechanics, from whom there might have been an occasional outburst of honest and telling indignation at cruelty and wrong on other plantations, were white men here. Its whole public was made up of and divided into three classes, slaveholders, slaves, and overseers.
Its blacksmiths, wheelwrights, shoemakers, weavers, and coopers, were slaves. Not even commerce, selfish and indifferent to moral considerations as it usually is, was permitted within its secluded precincts. Whether with a view of guarding against the escape of its secrets, I know not, but it is a fact, that every leaf and grain of the products of this plantation and those of the neighboring farms, belonging to Col. Lloyd, were transported to Baltimore in his own vessels, every man and boy on board of which, except the captain, were owned by him as his property.
In return, everything brought to the plantation came through the same channel. To make this isolation more apparent it may be stated that the adjoining estates to Col. Lloyd's were owned and occupied by friends of his, who were as deeply interested as himself in maintaining the slave system in all its rigor.
These were the Tilgmans, the Goldboroughs, the Lockermans, the Pacas, the Skinners, Gibsons, and others of lesser affluence and standing. The fact is, public opinion in such a quarter, the reader must see, was not likely to be very efficient in protecting the slave from cruelty.
To be a restraint upon abuses of this nature, opinion must emanate from humane and virtuous communities, and to no such opinion or influence was Col. Lloyd's plantation exposed. It was a little nation by itself, having its Page 27 own language, its own rules, regulations, and customs. The troubles and controversies arising here were not settled by the civil power of the State. The overseer was the important dignitary. He was generally accuser, judge, jury, advocate, and executioner.
The criminal was always dumb--and no slave was allowed to testify, other than against his brother slave. There were, of course, no conflicting rights of property, for all the people were the property of one man, and they could themselves own no property. Religion and politics were largely excluded. One class of the population was too high to be reached by the common preacher, and the other class was too low in condition and ignorance to be much cued for by religious teachers, and yet some religious ideas did enter this dark corner.
This, however, is not the only view which the place presented. Though civilization was in many respects shut out, nature could not be. Though separated from the rest of the world, though public opinion, as I have said, could seldom penetrate its dark domain, though the whole place was stamped with its own peculiar iron-like individuality, and though crimes, highhanded and atrocious, could be committed there with strange and shocking impunity, it was to outward seeming a most strikingly interesting place, full of life, activity, and spirit, and presented a very favorable contrast to the indolent monotony and languor of Tuckahoe.
It resembled in some respects descriptions I have since read of the old baronial domains of Europe. Keen as was my regret, and great as was my sorrow, at leaving my old home, I was not long in adapting myself to this my new one. A man's troubles are always half disposed of when he finds endurance the only alternative. I found myself here; there was no getting away; and naught remained for me but to make the best of it.
Here were plenty of children to play with, and plenty of pleasant resorts for boys of my age and older. The little tendrils of affection so rudely broken from the darling objects in and around my Page 28 grandmother's home, gradually began to extend and twine themselves around the new surroundings. Here for the first time I saw a large wind-mill, with its wide-sweeping white wings, a commanding object to a child's eye. This was situated on what was called Long Point--a tract of land dividing Miles river from the Wye.
I spent many hours here watching the wings of this wondrous mill. In the river, or what was called the "Swash," at a short distance from the shore, quietly lying at anchor, with her small row boat dancing at her stern, was a large sloop, the Sally Lloyd, called by that name in honor of the favorite daughter of the Colonel.
These two objects, the sloop and mill, as I remember, awakened thoughts, ideas, and wondering. Then here were a great many houses, human habitations full of the mysteries of life at every stage of it. There was the little red house up the road, occupied by Mr. Seveir, the overseer; a little nearer to my old master's stood a long, low, rough building literally alive with slaves of all ages, sexes, conditions, sizes, and colors.
This was called the long quarter. Perched upon a hill east of our house, was a tall dilapidated old brick building, the architectural dimensions of which proclaimed its creation for a different purpose, now occupied by slaves, in a similar manner to the long quarters. Besides these, there were numerous other slave houses and huts, scattered around in the neighborhood, every nook and corner of which, were completely occupied.
Old master's house, a long brick building, plain but substantial, was centrally located, and was an independent establishment. Besides these houses there were barns, stables, store houses, tobacco-houses, blacksmith shops, wheelwright shops, cooper shops; but above all there stood the grandest building my young eyes had ever beheld, called by everyone on the plantation the great house. This was occupied by Col. Lloyd and his family. It was surrounded by numerous and variously shaped out-buildings.
There were kitchens, wash-houses, dairies, summer-houses, green-houses, hen-houses, turkey-houses, pigeon-houses, and arbors of many sizes and devices, Page 29 all neatly painted or whitewashed--interspersed with grand old trees, ornamental and primitive, which afforded delightful shade in summer and imparted to the scene a high degree of stately beauty.
The great house itself was a large white wooden building with wings on three sides of it. In front a broad portico extended the entire length of the building, supported by a long range of columns, which gave to the Colonel's home an air of great dignity and grandeur. It was a treat to my young and gradually opening mind to behold this elaborate exhibition of wealth, power, and beauty.
The carriage entrance to the house was by a large gate, more than a quarter of a mile distant. The intermediate space was a beautiful lawn, very neatly kept and cared for. It was dotted thickly over with trees and flowers. The road or lane from the gate to the great house was richly paved with white pebbles from the beach, and in its course formed a complete circle around the lawn.
Outside this select enclosure were parks, as about the residences of the English nobility, where rabbits, deer, and other wild game might be seen peering and playing about, with "none to molest them or make them afraid. These all belonged to me as well as to Col. Edward Lloyd, and, whether they did or not, I greatly enjoyed them. Not far from the great house were the stately mansions of the dead Lloyds--a place of somber aspect. Vast tombs, embowered beneath the weeping willow and the fir tree, told of the generations of the family, as well as their wealth.
Superstition was rife among the slaves about this family burying-ground. Strange sights had been seen there by some of the older slaves, and I was often compelled to hear stories of shrouded ghosts, riding on great black horses, and of balls of fire which had been seen to fly there at midnight, and of startling and dreadful sounds that had been repeatedly heard. Slaves knew enough of the Orthodox theology at the time, to consign all bad slaveholders to hell, and they often Page 30 fancied such persons wishing themselves back again to wield the lash.
Tales of sights and sounds strange and terrible, connected with the huge black tombs, were a great security to the grounds about them, for few of the slaves had the courage to approach them during the day time. It was a dark, gloomy and forbidding place, and it was difficult to feel that the spirits of the sleeping dust there deposited reigned with the blest in the realms of eternal peace.
Here was transacted the business of twenty or thirty different farms, which, with the slaves upon them, numbering, in all, not less than a thousand, all belonged to Col. Persefone Metanoia Show more. Vicious Rumors - Discography. Studio 13 EP 2 Live 4. DVD 3 Compilation Single 7.
Demo 1 Boxset VA Split 1. Sort by date Sort by date descending Sort by rating Sort by popularity. Soldiers Of The Night Premonition Ride Into The Sun Medusa Murder March Or Die Blitz The World Invader In Fire Domestic Bliss Blistering Winds Review. Digital Dictator Replicant Minute To Kill Towns On Fire Lady Took A Chance Worlds And Machines The Crest Condemned Vicious Rumors Don't Wait For Me World Church On The Edge Ship Of Fools Can You Hear It Down To The Temple Hellraiser Electric Twilight Thrill Of The Hunt Axe And Smash Review.
Welcome To The Ball Abandoned You Only Live Twice Savior From Anger Children Dust To Dust Raise Your Hands Strange Behavior Six Stepsisters Mastermind When Love Comes Down Ends Of The Earth. Don't Wait For Me. The Voice [EP] The Voice Communication Breakdown [Led Zeppelin cover] Paint It Black [Rolling Stones cover] Painted Stranger. Word Of Mouth Against The Grain All Rights Reserved Thinking Of You No Fate Sense Of Security Dreaming Building 6 Ministry Of Fear Music Box Hellraiser [live] [Japanese bonus] The Crest [live] [Japanese bonus].
Hell Razor My Machine [demo version] Put The Blame On Me [demo version] Indisintegration [demo version]. Something Burning Ballhog Mouth Out Of My Misery Someting Burning Concentration Chopping Block Perpetual Strip Search Make It Real Free To Go. Cyberchrist Buried Alive Kill The Day No Apologies Fear Of God Gigs Eviction Barcelona Downpour Candles Burn Fiend Faith Sadistic Symphony Break March Of The Damned Blacklight Puritan Demons Born Again Hard Neodymium Man Elevator To Hell Cerebral Sea Ascension Inmortal [EP] Fight Broken Wings Poveglia Go For The Hook.
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|Voyager 2 mission to uranus torrent||We allow ourselves to imagine it is real, to enjoy the show. In Transforming Thai Culture, William Klausner writes about life in Bangkok just 40 years ago: Patriarchal and hierarchical forms abounded in law and day-to-day behavior. Its whole public was made up of and divided into three classes, slaveholders, slaves, and overseers. Razorback Killers Slaveholders are known to have sent spies among their slaves to ascertain if possible their views and feelings in regard to their condition; hence the here established among them, that "a still tongue makes a wise head.|
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|Hannah hart small town gay bar torrent||With little education or sense of the modern state, the people readily accepted the idea that their well-being rested on the figure of the virtuous and inviolate Buddhist king. Gameday Regulars It consisted of two tow-linen shirts, one pair of trowsers of the same coarse material, for summer, and a woolen pair of trowsers and a woolen jacket for winter, with one pair of yarn stockings and a pair of shoes of the coarsest description. He was both our Doctor of Medicine and our Doctor of Divinity. One of the first circumstances that opened my eyes to the cruelties and wickedness of slavery and its hardening influences upon my old master, was his refusal to interpose his authority to protect and shield a young woman, a cousin of mine, who had been most cruelly abused and beaten by his overseer click Tuckahoe. September Malevolence - Our Withers Unwrung. One of the most far-reaching of these was the abolition vicious rumors welcome to the ball torrent slavery; another was the abolition of bodily prostration of inferiors in the presence of their superiors.|
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Awesome pre-chours and chorus vocals, makes you wonder how the guy can sing in all the different ways he does and still sound flawless. Powerful, emotional, and ridiculously catchy. The album does have it's faults though, all though they are minor. First and foremost, the main problem I have is that there are no really killer tracks. There aren't any songs like "The Crest" or "Minute to Kill" that stick to you immediately and you wanna go back and listen to them over and over.
Maybe the 2 ballads would fit that category, but I'm not sure about that. Secondly, the lyrics are still struggling. That has never been the bands strong point, all though they are a little better than on DD. That's about all the complaints I have though really. This is a very consistent album, no filler at all, just maybe a lack of truly great songs.
If you liked Digital Dictator you will surely like this one. American Power Metal at it's fuckin' best! That's just what this piece of art here is. Tight, heavy and crunchy with the "in your face" attitude that hits you right from the beginning, this baby simply grabs you by the balls. This was the very first thing I heard from the brilliance that is or better - was Vicious Rumors and believe me, I am one happy camper for not letting this piece of history pass me by.
To those who aren't familiar with this Bay Area act, Vicious Rumors are a band formed right at the start of the 80's scene, they recorded demos in the early days but they've only managed to record their first album - "Soldiers Of the Night" in with Garry St. Pierre of Marty Friedman's "Hawaii" fame on vocals. They, however, still weren't able to completely develop their potential until the arrival of the late Carl "The Voice" Albert.
The guy, genius as he was, brought the sound and the term "to sing" to a whole new level and from that point on, the era of VR's greatest achievements began. Welcome to the Ball is the peak of VR's achievements in my opinion. The album is, as said before, tight right from the start with the first track "Abandoned" setting the tone for the rest of the album.
Riffs are there, solos really deserve to be called by that name, rhythm section more than just keeps the high pace and the vocal performance of Carl Albert is still somehow unmatched, unpaired to this day. The album continues to deliver piece by piece, song by song. We have here faster, heavier songs like "You only live twice", "Savior from anger", "Raise your hands", "Six Stepsisters" and "Ends of the earth", insanely tight songs bordering a bit on thrash, but this ain't no thrash, this is just pure POWER man, fucking power metal.
Now don't confuse this term with your European sugar-soaked German and Italian bands like Gamma Ra or similar. This is metal with balls, fast, crunchy but still melodic thanks to the vocal presence of "The Voice" Albert that really keeps the ball rolling here. On the other hand we have here the MTV aired "Children", a power ballad that once again does not fail to deliver.
This stuff is straight from the heart and one cannot fail to hear it, no cheesy bullshit here. Same goes for "Love comes down", this is fuckin' beautiful high rate stuff, and these things don't come often so well executed as they are here. All the credit of course goes to the magnificent singer, Carl Albert.
Sure, riffs and solos are the absolute solid backbone here, guitars shred and the really super executed soloing cannot be denied but the thing that really brings it to another level is "The Voice". A top notch performance from an overall one of the, if not THE best singer in the scene. And you gotta know that it ain't an easy task to deserve a title like this.
Just check out the first song to understand what I mean. Why this album doesn't receive as much praise as it should is simply beyond me. The production is great, songs are brilliantly structured and the whole picture just builds up by the minute. A metal fan of 80's thrash, heavy stuff should be obliged to check this out. An absolute winner. After their hugely disappointing self-titled release, Vicious Rumors return to form better than ever with this album.
I can never decide which album is my all time favorite from them, but I usually lean towards this release. It may not be as dark as Soldiers of the Night, or as straight forward and fast as Digital Dictator, but the energy and emotion jam packed into this disc is absolutely overwhelming. This album is extremely sad at times, aggressive and catchy, maybe even angry at times, and just downright moving. This is hands down their most emotional performance.
The atmosphere is as strong as ever and all over the place here. The lineup is thankfully still the same as the previous two albums. Carl Albert's RIP vocals here are hands down his best, and its not like he's already been explosive enough. This gives vocalists like Bruce Dickinson and whatnot a run for their money, easily. Albert's vocals are empowering throughout this whole album, and definitely sets the mood for each and every song perfectly.
Whether its an upbeat one or a depressive one. Track Listing. Miss C. You Only Live Twice. Savior From Anger. Dust to Dust. Raise Your Hands. Strange Behavior. Six Stepsisters. When Love Comes Down. Ends of the Earth. Night Driving Guys Night Out. Abandoned Miss C. Vicious Rumors. Spotify Amazon. Savior From Anger Miss C. Children Miss C. Dust to Dust Miss C. Raise Your Hands Miss C. Strange Behavior Miss C. Six Stepsisters Miss C.
Mastermind Miss C. Ends of the Earth Miss C.
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