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Book: Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave.txt
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l the overseers, the most
dreaded by the slaves. His presence was painful; his eye flashed
confusion; and seldom was his sharp, shrill voice heard, without
producing horror and trembling in their ranks.
Mr. Gore was a grave man, and, though a young man, he indulged in no
jokes, said no funny words, seldom smiled. His words were in perfect
keeping with his looks, and his looks were in perfect keeping with his
words. Overseers will sometimes indulge in a witty word, even with the
slaves; not so with Mr. Gore. He spoke but to command, and commanded
but to be obeyed; he dealt sparingly with his words, and bountifully
with his whip, never using the former where the latter would answer as
well. When he whipped, he seemed to do so from a sense of duty, and
feared no consequences. He did nothing reluctantly, no matter how
disagreeable; always at his post, never inconsistent. He never promised
but to fulfil. He was, in a word, a man of the most inflexible firmness
and stone-like coolness.
His savage barbarity was equalled only by the consummate coolness with
which he committed the grossest and most savage deeds upon the slaves
under his charge. Mr. Gore once undertook to whip one of Colonel
Lloyd’s slaves, by the name of Demby. He had given Demby but few
stripes, when, to get rid of the scourging, he ran and plunged himself
into a creek, and stood there at the depth of his shoulders, refusing
to come out. Mr. Gore told him that he would give him three calls, and
that, if he did not come out at the third call, he would shoot him. The
first call was given. Demby made no response, but stood his ground. The
second and third calls were given with the same result. Mr. Gore then,
without consultation or deliberation with any one, not even giving
Demby an additional call, raised his musket to his face, taking deadly
aim at his standing victim, and in an instant poor Demby was no more.
His mangled body sank out of sight, and blood and brains marked the
water where he had stood.
A thrill of horror flashed through every soul upon the plantation,
excepting Mr. Gore. He alone seemed cool and collected. He was asked by
Colonel Lloyd and my old master, why he resorted to this extraordinary
expedient. His reply was, (as well as I can remember,) that Demby had
become unmanageable. He was setting a dangerous example to the other
slaves,—one which, if suffered to pass without some such demonstration
on his part, would finally lead to the total subversion of all rule and
order upon the plantation. He argued that if one slave refused to be
corrected, and escaped with his life, the other slaves would soon copy
the example; the result of which would be, the freedom of the slaves,
and the enslavement of the whites. Mr. Gore’s defence was satisfactory.
He was continued in his station as overseer upon the home plantation.
His fame as an overseer went abroad. His horrid crime was not even
submitted to judicial investigation. It was committed in the presence
of slaves, and they of course could neither institute a suit, nor
testify against him; and thus the guilty perpetrator of one of the
bloodiest and most foul murders goes unwhipped of justice, and
uncensured by the community in which he lives. Mr. Gore lived in St.
Michael’s, Talbot county, Maryland, when I left there; and if he is
still alive, he very probably lives there now; and if so, he is now, as
he was then, as highly esteemed and as much respected as thoug
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