"NEW YORK, SEPT. 15, 1838"
Upon receiving this certificate, and a five-dollar
bill from Mr. Ruggles, I shouldered one part of our
baggage, and Anna took up the other, and we set
out forthwith to take passage on board of the steam-
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
been slaves. It was the first work, the reward of
which was to be entirely my own. There was no Mas-
ter Hugh standing ready, the moment I earned the
money, to rob me of it. I worked that day with a
pleasure I had never before experienced. I was at
work for myself and newly-married wife. It was to me
the starting-point of a new existence. When I got
through with that job, I went in pursuit of a job of
calking; but such was the strength of prejudice
against color, among the white calkers, that they re-
fused to work with me, and of course I could get no
employment.* Finding my trade of no immediate
benefit, I threw off my calking habiliments, and pre-
pared myself to do any kind of work I could get to
do. Mr. Johnson kindly let me have his wood-horse
and saw, and I very soon found myself a plenty of
work. There was no work too hard--none too dirty.
I was ready to saw wood, shovel coal, carry wood,
sweep the chimney, or roll oil casks,--all of which I
* I am told that colored persons can now get employment
at calking in New Bedford--a result of anti-slavery effort.
did for nearly three years in New Bedford, before I
became known to the anti-slavery world.
In about four months after I went to New Bed-
ford, there came a young man to me, and inquired
if I did not wish to take the "Liberator." I told him
I did; but, just having made my escape from slavery,
I remarked that I was unable to pay for it then. I,
however, finally became a subscriber to it. The paper
came, and I read it from week to week with such
feelings as it would be quite idle for me to attempt
to describe. The paper became my meat and my
drink. My soul was set all on fire. Its sympathy for
my brethren in bonds--its scathing denunciations of
slaveholders--its faithful exposures of slavery--and its
powerful attacks upon the upholders of the institu-
tion--sent a thrill of joy through my soul, such as
I had never felt before!
I had not long been a reader of the "Liberator,"
before I got a pretty correct idea of the principles,
measures and spirit of the anti-slavery reform. I took
right hold of the cause. I could do but little; but
what I could, I did with a joyful heart, and never felt
happier than when in an anti-slavery meeting. I sel-
dom had much to say at the meetings, because what
I wanted to say was said so much better by others.
But, while attending an anti-slavery convention at
Nantucket, on the 11th of August, 1841, I felt
strongly moved to speak, and was at the same time
much urged to do so by Mr. William C. Coffin, a
gentleman who had heard me speak in the colored
people's meeting at New Bedford. It was a severe
cross, and I took it up reluctantly. The truth was,
I felt myself a slave, and the idea of speaking to
white people weighed me down. I spoke but a few
moments, when I felt a degree of freedom, and said
what I desired with considerable ease. From that
time until now, I have been engaged in pleading the
cause of my brethren--with what success, and with
what devotion, I leave those acquainted with my la-
bors to decide.
APPENDIX
I find, since reading over the foregoing Narrative,
that I have, in several instances, spoken in such a
tone and manner, respecting religion, as may possi-
bly lead those unacquainted with my religious views
to suppose me an opponent of all religion. To re-
move the liability of such misapprehension, I deem
it proper to append the following brief explanation.
What I have said respecting and against religion, I
mean strictly to apply to the ~slaveholding religion~ of
this land, and with no possible reference to Christi-
anity proper; for, between the Christianity of this
land, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize the
widest possible difference--so wide, that to receive
the one as good, pure, and holy, is of necessity to re-
ject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked. To be the
friend of the one, is of necessity to be the enemy
of the other. I love the pure, peaceable, and impar-
tial Christianity of Christ: I therefore hate the cor-
rupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plunder-
ing, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land.
Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful
one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity.
I look upon it as the climax of all misnomers, the
boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels.
Never was there a clearer case of "stealing the livery
of the court of heaven to serve the devil in." I am
filled with unutterable loathing when I contem-
plate the religious pomp and show, together with the
horrible inconsistencies, which every where surround
me. We have men-stealers for ministers, women-
whippers for missionaries, and cradle-plunderers for
church members. The man who wields the blood-
clotted cowskin during the week fills the pulpit on
Sunday, and claims to be a minister of the meek and
lowly Jesus. The man who robs me of my earnings
at the end of each week meets me as a class-leader
on Sunday morning, to show me the way of life,
and the path of salvation. He who sells my sister,
for purposes of prostitution, stands forth as the pi-
ous advocate of purity. He who proclaims it a re-
ligious duty to read the Bible denies me the right
of learning to read the name of the God who made
me. He who is the religious advocate of marriage
robs whole millions of its sacred influence, and leaves
them to the ravages of wholesale pollution. The
warm defender of the sacredness of the family re-
lation is the same that scatters whole families,--sun-
dering husbands and wives, parents and children,
sisters and brothers,--leaving the hut vacant, and the
hearth desolate. We see the thief preaching against
theft, and the adulterer against adultery. We have
men sold to build churches, women sold to support
the gospel, and babes sold to purchase Bibles for
the POOR HEATHEN! ALL FOR THE GLORY OF GOD AND THE
GOOD OF SOULS! The slave auctioneer's bell and the
church-going bell chime in with each other, and the
bitter cries of the heart-broken slave are drowned
in the religious shouts of his pious master. Revivals
of religion and revivals in the slave-trade go hand
in hand together. The slave prison and the church
stand near each other. The clanking of fetters and
the rattling of chains in the prison, and the pious
psalm and solemn prayer in the church, may be
heard at the same time. The dealers in the bodies
and souls of men erect their stand in the presence
of the pulpit, and they mutually help each other.
The dealer gives his blood-stained gold to support
the pulpit, and the pulpit, in return, covers his in-
fernal business with the garb of Christianity. Here
we have religion and robbery the allies of each other
--devils dressed in angels' robes, and hell presenting
the semblance of paradise.
"Just God! and these are they,
Who minister at thine altar, God of right!
Men who their hands, with prayer and blessing, lay
On Israel's ark of light.
"What! preach, and kidnap men?
Give thanks, and rob thy own afflicted poor?
Talk of thy glorious liberty, and then
Bolt hard the captive's door?
"What! servants of thy own
Merciful Son, who came to seek and save
The homeless and the outcast, fettering down
The tasked and plundered slave!
"Pilate and Herod friends!
Chief priests and rulers, as of old, combine!
Just God and holy! is that church which lends
Strength to the spoiler thine?"
The Christianity of America is a Christianity, of
whose votaries it may be as truly said, as it was of
the ancient scribes and Pharisees, "They bind heavy
burdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them on
men's shoulders, but they themselves will not move
them with one of their fingers. All their works they
do for to be seen of men.--They love the upper-
most rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the syna-
gogues,...... and to be called of men, Rabbi,
Rabbi.--But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees,
hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven
against men; for ye neither go in yourselves, neither
suffer ye them that are entering to go in. Ye devour
widows' houses, and for a pretence make long
prayers; therefore ye shall receive the greater dam-
nation. Ye compass sea and land to make one prose-
lyte, and when he is made, ye make him twofold
more the child of hell than yourselves.--Woe unto
you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay
tithe of mint, and anise, and cumin, and have omit-
ted the weightier matters of the law, judgment,
mercy, and faith; these ought ye to have done, and
not to leave the other undone. Ye blind guides!
which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel. Woe
unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye
make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter;
but within, they are full of extortion and excess.--
Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for
ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed ap-
pear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead
men's bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so ye also
outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within
ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity."
Dark and terrible as is this picture, I hold it to be
strictly true of the overwhelming mass of professed
Christians in America. They strain at a gnat, and
swallow a camel. Could any thing be more true of
our churches? They would be shocked at the propo-
sition of fellowshipping a SHEEP-stealer; and at the
same time they hug to their communion a MAN-
stealer, and brand me with being an infidel, if I
find fault with them for it. They attend with Phari-
saical strictness to the outward forms of religion, and
at the same time neglect the weightier matters of
the law, judgment, mercy, and faith. They are al-
ways ready to sacrifice, but seldom to show mercy.
They are they who are represented as professing to
love God whom they have not seen, whilst they hate
their brother whom they have seen. They love the
heathen on the other side of the globe. They can
pray for him, pay money to have the Bible put into
his hand, and missionaries to instruct him; while
they despise and totally neglect the heathen at their
own doors.
Such is, very briefly, my view of the religion of
this land; and to avoid any misunderstanding, grow-
ing out of the use of general terms, I mean by the
religion of this land, that which is revealed in the
words, deeds, and actions, of those bodies, north and
south, calling themselves Christian churches, and yet
in union with slaveholders. It is against religion, as
presented by these bodies, that I have felt it my
duty to testify.
I conclude these remarks by copying the following
portrait of the religion of the south, (which is, by
communion and fellowship, the religion of the
north,) which I soberly affirm is "true to the life,"
and without caricature or the slightest exaggeration.
It is said to have been drawn, several years before
the present anti-slavery agitation began, by a north-
ern Methodist preacher, who, while residing at the
south, had an opportunity to see slaveholding mor-
als, manners, and piety, with his own eyes. "Shall
I not visit for these things? saith the Lord. Shall not
my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?"