boat John W. Richmond for Newport, on our way
to New Bedford. Mr. Ruggles gave me a letter to a
Mr. Shaw in Newport, and told me, in case my
money did not serve me to New Bedford, to stop in
Newport and obtain further assistance; but upon our
*She was free.
+I had changed my name from Frederick BAILEY to that of
JOHNSON.
arrival at Newport, we were so anxious to get to a
place of safety, that, notwithstanding we lacked the
necessary money to pay our fare, we decided to take
seats in the stage, and promise to pay when we got
to New Bedford. We were encouraged to do this by
two excellent gentlemen, residents of New Bedford,
whose names I afterward ascertained to be Joseph
Ricketson and William C. Taber. They seemed at
once to understand our circumstances, and gave us
such assurance of their friendliness as put us fully
at ease in their presence. It was good indeed to meet
with such friends, at such a time. Upon reaching
New Bedford, we were directed to the house of Mr.
Nathan Johnson, by whom we were kindly received,
and hospitably provided for. Both Mr. and Mrs.
Johnson took a deep and lively interest in our wel-
fare. They proved themselves quite worthy of the
name of abolitionists. When the stage-driver found
us unable to pay our fare, he held on upon our bag-
gage as security for the debt. I had but to mention
the fact to Mr. Johnson, and he forthwith advanced
the money.
We now began to feel a degree of safety, and to
prepare ourselves for the duties and responsibilities
of a life of freedom. On the morning after our ar-
rival at New Bedford, while at the breakfast-table,
the question arose as to what name I should be
called by. The name given me by my mother was,
“Frederick Augustus Washington Bailey.” I, how-
ever, had dispensed with the two middle names long
before I left Maryland so that I was generally known
by the name of “Frederick Bailey.” I started from
Baltimore bearing the name of “Stanley.” When I
got to New York, I again changed my name to “Fred-
erick Johnson,” and thought that would be the last
change. But when I got to New Bedford, I found it
necessary again to change my name. The reason of
this necessity was, that there were so many Johnsons
in New Bedford, it was already quite difficult to
distinguish between them. I gave Mr. Johnson the
privilege of choosing me a name, but told him he
must not take from me the name of “Frederick.”
I must hold on to that, to preserve a sense of my
identity. Mr. Johnson had just been reading the
“Lady of the Lake,” and at once suggested that my
name be “Douglass.” From that time until now I
have been called “Frederick Douglass;” and as I am
more widely known by that name than by either of
the others, I shall continue to use it as my own.
I was quite disappointed at the general appear-
ance of things in New Bedford. The impression
which I had received respecting the character and
condition of the people of the north, I found to be
singularly erroneous. I had very strangely supposed,
while in slavery, that few of the comforts, and
scarcely any of the luxuries, of life were enjoyed at
the north, compared with what were enjoyed by the
slaveholders of the south. I probably came to this
conclusion from the fact that northern people owned
no slaves. I supposed that they were about upon a
level with the non-slaveholding population of the
south. I knew THEY were exceedingly poor, and I had
been accustomed to regard their poverty as the nec-
essary consequence of their being non-slaveholders.
I had somehow imbibed the opinion that, in the
absence of slaves, there could be no wealth, and very
little refinement. And upon coming to the north, I
expected to meet with a rough, hard-handed, and
uncultivated population, living in the most Spartan-
like simplicity, knowing nothing of the ease, luxury,
pomp, and grandeur of southern slaveholders. Such
being my conjectures, any one acquainted with the
appearance of New Bedford may very readily infer
how palpably I must have seen my mistake.
In the afternoon of the day when I reached New
Bedford, I visited the wharves, to take a view of the
shipping. Here I found myself surrounded with the
strongest proofs of wealth. Lying at the wharves, and
riding in the stream, I saw many ships of the finest
model, in the best order, and of the largest size.
Upon the right and left, I was walled in by granite
warehouses of the widest dimensions, stowed to their
utmost capacity with the necessaries and comforts
of life. Added to this, almost every body seemed to
be at work, but noiselessly so, compared with what
I had been accustomed to in Baltimore. There were
no loud songs heard from those engaged in loading
and unloading ships. I heard no deep oaths or horrid
curses on the laborer. I saw no whipping of men;
but all seemed to go smoothly on. Every man ap-
peared to understand his work, and went at it with
a sober, yet cheerful earnestness, which betokened
the deep interest which he felt in what he was doing,
as well as a sense of his own dignity as a man. To me
this looked exceedingly strange. From the wharves I
strolled around and over the town, gazing with won-
der and admiration at the splendid churches, beauti-
ful dwellings, and finely-cultivated gardens; evincing
an amount of wealth, comfort, taste, and refinement,
such as I had never seen in any part of slaveholding
Maryland.
Every thing looked clean, new, and beautiful. I
saw few or no dilapidated houses, with poverty-
stricken inmates; no half-naked children and bare-
footed women, such as I had been accustomed to see
in Hillsborough, Easton, St. Michael’s, and Balti-
more. The people looked more able, stronger, health-
ier, and happier, than those of Maryland. I was for
once made glad by a view of extreme wealth, without
being saddened by seeing extreme poverty. But the
most astonishing as well as the most interesting thing
to me was the condition of the colored people, a
great many of whom, like myself, had escaped
thither as a refuge from the hunters of men. I found
many, who had not been seven years out of their
chains, living in finer houses, and evidently enjoying
more of the comforts of life, than the average of
slaveholders in Maryland. I will venture to assert,
that my friend Mr. Nathan Johnson (of whom I
can say with a grateful heart, “I was hungry, and he
gave me meat; I was thirsty, and he gave me drink;
I was a stranger, and he took me in”) lived in a
neater house; dined at a better table; took, paid
for, and read, more newspapers; better understood
the moral, religious, and political character of the
nation, — than nine tenths of the slaveholders in Tal-
bot county Maryland. Yet Mr. Johnson was a work-
ing man. His hands were hardened by toil, and not
his alone, but those also of Mrs. Johnson. I found the
colored people much more spirited than I had sup-
posed they would be. I found among them a deter-
mination to protect each other from the blood-thirsty
kidnapper, at all hazards. Soon after my arrival, I
was told of a circumstance which illustrated their
spirit. A colored man and a fugitive slave were on
unfriendly terms. The former was heard to threaten
the latter with informing his master of his where-
abouts. Straightway a meeting was called among the
colored people, under the stereotyped notice, “Busi-
ness of importance!” The betrayer was invited to at-
tend. The people came at the appointed hour, and
organized the meeting by appointing a very religious
old gentleman as president, who, I believe, made a
prayer, after which he addressed the meeting as fol-
lows: “FRIENDS, WE HAVE GOT HIM HERE, AND I WOULD
RECOMMEND THAT YOU YOUNG MEN JUST TAKE HIM OUT-
SIDE THE DOOR, AND KILL HIM!” With this, a number
of them bolted at him; but they were intercepted
by some more timid than themselves, and the be-
trayer escaped their vengeance, and has not been
seen in New Bedford since. I believe there have
been no more such threats, and should there be here-
after, I doubt not that death would be the conse-
quence.
I found employment, the third day after my ar-
rival, in stowing a sloop with a load of oil. It was
new, dirty, and hard work for me; but I went at it
with a glad heart and a willing hand. I was now my
own master. It was a happy moment, the rapture of
which can be understood only by those who have