ON REACHING THAT CITY—AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE MET—UNFAVORABLE
IMPRESSIONS—LONELINESS AND INSECURITY—APOLOGY FOR SLAVES WHO RETURN
TO THEIR MASTERS—COMPELLED TO TELL MY CONDITION—SUCCORED BY A
SAILOR—DAVID RUGGLES—THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD—MARRIAGE—BAGGAGE TAKEN
FROM ME—KINDNESS OF NATHAN JOHNSON—MY CHANGE OF NAME—DARK NOTIONS OF
NORTHERN CIVILIZATION—THE CONTRAST—COLORED PEOPLE IN NEW BEDFORD—AN
MY TRADE—THE FIRST WINTER AT THE NORTH—REPULSE AT THE DOORS OF THE
There is no necessity for any extended notice of the incidents of this part of my life. There is nothing very striking or peculiar7 about my career as a freeman, when viewed apart from my life as a slave. The relation subsisting8 between my early experience and that which I am now about to narrate9, is, perhaps, my best apology for adding another chapter to this book.
Disappearing from the kind reader, in a flying cloud or balloon (pardon the figure), driven by the wind, and knowing not where I should land—whether in slavery or in freedom—it is proper that I should remove, at once, all anxiety, by frankly10 making known where I alighted. The flight was a bold and perilous11 one; but here I am, in the great city of New York, safe and sound, without loss of blood or bone. In less than a week after leaving Baltimore, I was walking amid the hurrying throng12, and gazing upon the dazzling wonders of Broadway. The dreams[262] of my childhood and the purposes of my manhood were now fulfilled. A free state around me, and a free earth under my feet! What a moment was this to me! A whole year was pressed into a single day. A new world burst upon my agitated13 vision. I have often been asked, by kind friends to whom I have told my story, how I felt when first I found myself beyond the limits of slavery; and I must say here, as I have often said to them, there is scarcely anything about which I could not give a more satisfactory answer. It was a moment of joyous14 excitement, which no words can describe. In a letter to a friend, written soon after reaching New York. I said I felt as one might be supposed to feel, on escaping from a den2 of hungry lions. But, in a moment like that, sensations are too intense and too rapid for words. Anguish15 and grief, like darkness and rain, may be described, but joy and gladness, like the rainbow of promise, defy alike the pen and pencil.
For ten or fifteen years I had been dragging a heavy chain, with a huge block attached to it, cumbering my every motion. I had felt myself doomed16 to drag this chain and this block through life. All efforts, before, to separate myself from the hateful encumbrance17, had only seemed to rivet18 me the more firmly to it. Baffled and discouraged at times, I had asked myself the question, May not this, after all, be God’s work? May He not, for wise ends, have doomed me to this lot? A contest had been going on in my mind for years, between the clear consciousness of right and the plausible19 errors of superstition20; between the wisdom of manly21 courage, and the foolish weakness of timidity. The contest was now ended; the chain was severed22; God and right stood vindicated23. I was A FREEMAN, and the voice of peace and joy thrilled my heart.
Free and joyous, however, as I was, joy was not the only sensation I experienced. It was like the quick blaze, beautiful at the first, but which subsiding24, leaves the building charred25 and desolate26. I was soon taught that I was still in an enemy’s land. A sense of loneliness and insecurity oppressed me sadly. I had[263] been but a few hours in New York, before I was met in the streets by a fugitive27 slave, well known to me, and the information I got from him respecting New York, did nothing to lessen28 my apprehension29 of danger. The fugitive in question was “Allender’s Jake,” in Baltimore; but, said he, I am “WILLIAM DIXON,” in New York! I knew Jake well, and knew when Tolly Allender and Mr. Price (for the latter employed Master Hugh as his foreman, in his shipyard on Fell’s Point) made an attempt to recapture Jake, and failed. Jake told me all about his circumstances, and how narrowly he escaped being taken back to slavery; that the city was now full of southerners, returning from the springs; that the black people in New York were not to be trusted; that there were hired men on the lookout30 for fugitives31 from slavery, and who, for a few dollars, would betray me into the hands of the slave-catchers; that I must trust no man with my secret; that I must not think of going either on the wharves32 to work, or to a boarding-house to board; and, worse still, this same Jake told me it was not in his power to help me. He seemed, even while cautioning me, to be fearing lest, after all, I might be a party to a second attempt to recapture him. Under the inspiration of this thought, I must suppose it was, he gave signs of a wish to get rid of me, and soon left me his whitewash33 brush in hand—as he said, for his work. He was soon lost to sight among the throng, and I was alone again, an easy prey34 to the kidnappers35, if any should happen to be on my track.
New York, seventeen years ago, was less a place of safety for a runaway36 slave than now, and all know how unsafe it now is, under the new fugitive slave bill. I was much troubled. I had very little money enough to buy me a few loaves of bread, but not enough to pay board, outside a lumber37 yard. I saw the wisdom of keeping away from the ship yards, for if Master Hugh pursued me, he would naturally expect to find me looking for work among the calkers. For a time, every door seemed closed against me. A sense of my loneliness and helplessness crept over me,[264] and covered me with something bordering on despair. In the midst of thousands of my fellowmen, and yet a perfect stranger! In the midst of human brothers, and yet more fearful of them than of hungry wolves! I was without home, without friends, without work, without money, and without any definite knowledge of which way to go, or where to look for succor1.
Some apology can easily be made for the few slaves who have, after making good their escape, turned back to slavery, preferring the actual rule of their masters, to the life of loneliness, apprehension, hunger, and anxiety, which meets them on their first arrival in a free state. It is difficult for a freeman to enter into the feelings of such fugitives. He cannot see things in the same light with the slave, because he does not, and cannot, look from the same point from which the slave does. “Why do you tremble,” he says to the slave “you are in a free state;” but the difficulty is, in realizing that he is in a free state, the slave might reply. A freeman cannot understand why the slave-master’s shadow is bigger, to the slave, than the might and majesty38 of a free state; but when he reflects that the slave knows more about the slavery of his master than he does of the might and majesty of the free state, he has the explanation. The slave has been all his life learning the power of his master—being trained to dread39 his approach—and only a few hours learning the power of the state. The master is to him a stern and flinty reality, but the state is little more than a dream. He has been accustomed to regard every white man as the friend of his master, and every colored man as more or less under the control of his master’s friends—the white people. It takes stout40 nerves to stand up, in such circumstances. A man, homeless, shelterless, breadless, friendless, and moneyless, is not in a condition to assume a very proud or joyous tone; and in just this condition was I, while wandering about the streets of New York city and lodging41, at least one night, among the barrels on one of its wharves. I was not only free from slavery, but I was free from home, as well. The reader[265] will easily see that I had something more than the simple fact of being free to think of, in this extremity42.
I kept my secret as long as I could, and at last was forced to go in search of an honest man—a man sufficiently43 human not to betray me into the hands of slave-catchers. I was not a bad reader of the human face, nor long in selecting the right man, when once compelled to disclose the facts of my condition to some one.
I found my man in the person of one who said his name was Stewart. He was a sailor, warm-hearted and generous, and he listened to my story with a brother’s interest. I told him I was running for my freedom—knew not where to go—money almost gone—was hungry—thought it unsafe to go the shipyards for work, and needed a friend. Stewart promptly44 put me in the way of getting out of my trouble. He took me to his house, and went in search of the late David Ruggles, who was then the secretary of the New York Vigilance Committee, and a very active man in all anti-slavery works. Once in the hands of Mr. Ruggles, I was comparatively safe. I was hidden with Mr. Ruggles several days. In the meantime, my intended wife, Anna, came on from Baltimore—to whom I had written, informing her of my safe arrival at New York—and, in the presence of Mrs. Mitchell and Mr. Ruggles, we were married, by Rev45. James W. C. Pennington.
Mr. Ruggles 7 was the first officer on the under-ground railroad with whom I met after reaching the north, and, indeed, the first of whom I ever heard anything. Learning that I was a calker by trade, he promptly decided46 that New Bedford was the proper[266] place to send me. “Many ships,” said he, “are there fitted out for the whaling business, and you may there find work at your trade, and make a good living.” Thus, in one fortnight after my flight from Maryland, I was safe in New Bedford, regularly entered upon the exercise of the rights, responsibilities, and duties of a freeman.
I may mention a little circumstance which annoyed me on reaching New Bedford. I had not a cent of money, and lacked two dollars toward paying our fare from Newport, and our baggage not very costly—was taken by the stage driver, and held until I could raise the money to redeem47 it. This difficulty was soon surmounted48. Mr. Nathan Johnson, to whom we had a line from Mr. Ruggles, not only received us kindly49 and hospitably50, but, on being informed about our baggage, promptly loaned me two dollars with which to redeem my little property. I shall ever be deeply grateful, both to Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Johnson, for the lively interest they were pleased to take in me, in this hour of my extremest need. They not only gave myself and wife bread and shelter, but taught us how to begin to secure those benefits for ourselves. Long may they live, and may blessings51 attend them in this life and in that which is to come!
Once initiated52 into the new life of freedom, and assured by Mr. Johnson that New Bedford was a safe place, the comparatively unimportant matter, as to what should be my name, came up for considertion(sic). It was necessary to have a name in my new relations. The name given me by my beloved mother was no less pretentious53 than “Frederick Augustus Washington Bailey.” I had, however, before leaving Maryland, dispensed54 with the Augustus Washington, and retained the name Frederick Bailey. Between Baltimore and New Bedford, however, I had several different names, the better to avoid being overhauled55 by the hunters, which I had good reason to believe would be put on my track. Among honest men an honest man may well be content with one name, and to acknowledge it at all times and in all[267] places; but toward fugitives, Americans are not honest. When I arrived at New Bedford, my name was Johnson; and finding that the Johnson family in New Bedford were already quite numerous—sufficiently so to produce some confusion in attempts to distinguish one from another—there was the more reason for making another change in my name. In fact, “Johnson” had been assumed by nearly every slave who had arrived in New Bedford from Maryland, and this, much to the annoyance56 of the original “Johnsons” (of whom there were many) in that place. Mine host, unwilling57 to have another of his own name added to the community in this unauthorized way, after I spent a night and a day at his house, gave me my present name. He had been reading the “Lady of the Lake,” and was pleased to regard me as a suitable person to wear this, one of Scotland’s many famous names. Considering the noble hospitality and manly character of Nathan Johnson, I have felt that he, better than I, illustrated58 the virtues60 of the great Scottish chief. Sure I am, that had any slave-catcher entered his domicile, with a view to molest61 any one of his household, he would have shown himself like him of the “stalwart hand.”
The reader will be amused at my ignorance, when I tell the notions I had of the state of northern wealth, enterprise, and civilization. Of wealth and refinement62, I supposed the north had none. My Columbian Orator63, which was almost my only book, had not done much to enlighten me concerning northern society. The impressions I had received were all wide of the truth. New Bedford, especially, took me by surprise, in the solid wealth and grandeur64 there exhibited. I had formed my notions respecting the social condition of the free states, by what I had seen and known of free, white, non-slaveholding people in the slave states. Regarding slavery as the basis of wealth, I fancied that no people could become very wealthy without slavery. A free white man, holding no slaves, in the country, I had known to be the most ignorant and poverty-stricken of men, and the laugh[268] ing stock even of slaves themselves—called generally by them, in derision, “poor white trash.” Like the non-slaveholders at the south, in holding no slaves, I suppose the northern people like them, also, in poverty and degradation65. Judge, then, of my amazement66 and joy, when I found—as I did find—the very laboring67 population of New Bedford living in better houses, more elegantly furnished—surrounded by more comfort and refinement—than a majority of the slaveholders on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. There was my friend, Mr. Johnson, himself a colored man (who at the south would have been regarded as a proper marketable commodity), who lived in a better house—dined at a richer board—was the owner of more books—the reader of more newspapers—was more conversant68 with the political and social condition of this nation and the world—than nine-tenths of all the slaveholders of Talbot county, Maryland. Yet Mr. Johnson was a working man, and his hands were hardened by honest toil69. Here, then, was something for observation and study. Whence the difference? The explanation was soon furnished, in the superiority of mind over simple brute70 force. Many pages might be given to the contrast, and in explanation of its causes. But an incident or two will suffice to show the reader as to how the mystery gradually vanished before me.
My first afternoon, on reaching New Bedford, was spent in visiting the wharves and viewing the shipping71. The sight of the broad brim and the plain, Quaker dress, which met me at every turn, greatly increased my sense of freedom and security. “I am among the Quakers,” thought I, “and am safe.” Lying at the wharves and riding in the stream, were full-rigged ships of finest model, ready to start on whaling voyages. Upon the right and the left, I was walled in by large granite-fronted warehouses72, crowded with the good things of this world. On the wharves, I saw industry without bustle73, labor4 without noise, and heavy toil without the whip. There was no loud singing, as in southern ports, where ships are loading or unloading—no loud cursing or[269] swearing—but everything went on as smoothly74 as the works of a well adjusted machine. How different was all this from the nosily75 fierce and clumsily absurd manner of labor-life in Baltimore and St. Michael’s! One of the first incidents which illustrated the superior mental character of northern labor over that of the south, was the manner of unloading a ship’s cargo76 of oil. In a southern port, twenty or thirty hands would have been employed to do what five or six did here, with the aid of a single ox attached to the end of a fall. Main strength, unassisted by skill, is slavery’s method of labor. An old ox, worth eighty dollars, was doing, in New Bedford, what would have required fifteen thousand dollars worth of human bones and muscles to have performed in a southern port. I found that everything was done here with a scrupulous77 regard to economy, both in regard to men and things, time and strength. The maid servant, instead of spending at least a tenth part of her time in bringing and carrying water, as in Baltimore, had the pump at her elbow. The wood was dry, and snugly78 piled away for winter. Woodhouses, in-door pumps, sinks, drains, self-shutting gates, washing machines, pounding barrels, were all new things, and told me that I was among a thoughtful and sensible people. To the ship-repairing dock I went, and saw the same wise prudence79. The carpenters struck where they aimed, and the calkers wasted no blows in idle flourishes of the mallet80. I learned that men went from New Bedford to Baltimore, and bought old ships, and brought them here to repair, and made them better and more valuable than they ever were before. Men talked here of going whaling on a four years’ voyage with more coolness than sailors where I came from talked of going a four months’ voyage.
I now find that I could have landed in no part of the United States, where I should have found a more striking and gratifying contrast to the condition of the free people of color in Baltimore, than I found here in New Bedford. No colored man is really free in a slaveholding state. He wears the badge of bondage81 while[270] nominally82 free, and is often subjected to hardships to which the slave is a stranger; but here in New Bedford, it was my good fortune to see a pretty near approach to freedom on the part of the colored people. I was taken all aback when Mr. Johnson—who lost no time in making me acquainted with the fact—told me that there was nothing in the constitution of Massachusetts to prevent a colored man from holding any office in the state. There, in New Bedford, the black man’s children—although anti-slavery was then far from popular—went to school side by side with the white children, and apparently83 without objection from any quarter. To make me at home, Mr. Johnson assured me that no slaveholder could take a slave from New Bedford; that there were men there who would lay down their lives, before such an outrage84 could be perpetrated. The colored people themselves were of the best metal, and would fight for liberty to the death.
Soon after my arrival in New Bedford, I was told the following story, which was said to illustrate59 the spirit of the colored people in that goodly town: A colored man and a fugitive slave happened to have a little quarrel, and the former was heard to threaten the latter with informing his master of his whereabouts. As soon as this threat became known, a notice was read from the desk of what was then the only colored church in the place, stating that business of importance was to be then and there transacted85. Special measures had been taken to secure the attendance of the would-be Judas, and had proved successful. Accordingly, at the hour appointed, the people came, and the betrayer also. All the usual formalities of public meetings were scrupulously87 gone through, even to the offering prayer for Divine direction in the duties of the occasion. The president himself performed this part of the ceremony, and I was told that he was unusually fervent88. Yet, at the close of his prayer, the old man (one of the numerous family of Johnsons) rose from his knees, deliberately89 surveyed his audience, and then said, in a tone of solemn resolution, “Well, friends, we have got him here, and I would now[271] recommend that you young men should just take him outside the door and kill him.” With this, a large body of the congregation, who well understood the business they had come there to transact86, made a rush at the villain90, and doubtless would have killed him, had he not availed himself of an open sash, and made good his escape. He has never shown his head in New Bedford since that time. This little incident is perfectly91 characteristic of the spirit of the colored people in New Bedford. A slave could not be taken from that town seventeen years ago, any more than he could be so taken away now. The reason is, that the colored people in that city are educated up to the point of fighting for their freedom, as well as speaking for it.
Once assured of my safety in New Bedford, I put on the habiliments of a common laborer, and went on the wharf92 in search of work. I had no notion of living on the honest and generous sympathy of my colored brother, Johnson, or that of the abolitionists. My cry was like that of Hood’s laborer, “Oh! only give me work.” Happily for me, I was not long in searching. I found employment, the third day after my arrival in New Bedford, in stowing a sloop93 with a load of oil for the New York market. It was new, hard, and dirty work, even for a calker, but I went at it with a glad heart and a willing hand. I was now my own master—a tremendous fact—and the rapturous excitement with which I seized the job, may not easily be understood, except by some one with an experience like mine. The thoughts—“I can work! I can work for a living; I am not afraid of work; I have no Master Hugh to rob me of my earnings”—placed me in a state of independence, beyond seeking friendship or support of any man. That day’s work I considered the real starting point of something like a new existence. Having finished this job and got my pay for the same, I went next in pursuit of a job at calking. It so happened that Mr. Rodney French, late mayor of the city of New Bedford, had a ship fitting out for sea, and to which there was a large job of calking and coppering to be done. I applied94 to that[272] noblehearted man for employment, and he promptly told me to go to work; but going on the float-stage for the purpose, I was informed that every white man would leave the ship if I struck a blow upon her. “Well, well,” thought I, “this is a hardship, but yet not a very serious one for me.” The difference between the wages of a calker and that of a common day laborer, was an hundred per cent in favor of the former; but then I was free, and free to work, though not at my trade. I now prepared myself to do anything which came to hand in the way of turning an honest penny; sawed wood—dug cellars—shoveled coal—swept chimneys with Uncle Lucas Debuty—rolled oil casks on the wharves—helped to load and unload vessels—worked in Ricketson’s candle works—in Richmond’s brass95 foundery, and elsewhere; and thus supported myself and family for three years.
The first winter was unusually severe, in consequence of the high prices of food; but even during that winter we probably suffered less than many who had been free all their lives. During the hardest of the winter, I hired out for nine dolars(sic) a month; and out of this rented two rooms for nine dollars per quarter, and supplied my wife—who was unable to work—with food and some necessary articles of furniture. We were closely pinched to bring our wants within our means; but the jail stood over the way, and I had a wholesome97 dread of the consequences of running in debt. This winter past, and I was up with the times—got plenty of work—got well paid for it—and felt that I had not done a foolish thing to leave Master Hugh and Master Thomas. I was now living in a new world, and was wide awake to its advantages. I early began to attend the meetings of the colored people of New Bedford, and to take part in them. I was somewhat amazed to see colored men drawing up resolutions and offering them for consideration. Several colored young men of New Bedford, at that period, gave promise of great usefulness. They were educated, and possessed98 what seemed to me, at the time, very superior talents. Some of them have been cut down by death, and[273] others have removed to different parts of the world, and some remain there now, and justify99, in their present activities, my early impressions of them.
Among my first concerns on reaching New Bedford, was to become united with the church, for I had never given up, in reality, my religious faith. I had become lukewarm and in a backslidden state, but I was still convinced that it was my duty to join the Methodist church. I was not then aware of the powerful influence of that religious body in favor of the enslavement of my race, nor did I see how the northern churches could be responsible for the conduct of southern churches; neither did I fully100 understand how it could be my duty to remain separate from the church, because bad men were connected with it. The slaveholding church, with its Coveys, Weedens, Aulds, and Hopkins, I could see through at once, but I could not see how Elm Street church, in New Bedford, could be regarded as sanctioning the Christianity of these characters in the church at St. Michael’s. I therefore resolved to join the Methodist church in New Bedford, and to enjoy the spiritual advantage of public worship. The minister of the Elm Street Methodist church, was the Rev. Mr. Bonney; and although I was not allowed a seat in the body of the house, and was proscribed102 on account of my color, regarding this proscription103 simply as an accommodation of the uncoverted congregation who had not yet been won to Christ and his brotherhood104, I was willing thus to be proscribed, lest sinners should be driven away form the saving power of the gospel. Once converted, I thought they would be sure to treat me as a man and a brother. “Surely,” thought I, “these Christian101 people have none of this feeling against color. They, at least, have renounced105 this unholy feeling.” Judge, then, dear reader, of my astonishment106 and mortification107, when I found, as soon I did find, all my charitable assumptions at fault.
An opportunity was soon afforded me for ascertaining108 the exact position of Elm Street church on that subject. I had a chance of seeing the religious part of the congregation by themselves; and[274] although they disowned, in effect, their black brothers and sisters, before the world, I did think that where none but the saints were assembled, and no offense109 could be given to the wicked, and the gospel could not be “blamed,” they would certainly recognize us as children of the same Father, and heirs of the same salvation110, on equal terms with themselves.
The occasion to which I refer, was the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, that most sacred and most solemn of all the ordinances111 of the Christian church. Mr. Bonney had preached a very solemn and searching discourse112, which really proved him to be acquainted with the inmost secerts(sic) of the human heart. At the close of his discourse, the congregation was dismissed, and the church remained to partake of the sacrament. I remained to see, as I thought, this holy sacrament celebrated113 in the spirit of its great Founder96.
There were only about a half dozen colored members attached to the Elm Street church, at this time. After the congregation was dismissed, these descended114 from the gallery, and took a seat against the wall most distant from the altar. Brother Bonney was very animated115, and sung very sweetly, “Salvation ‘tis a joyful116 sound,” and soon began to administer the sacrament. I was anxious to observe the bearing of the colored members, and the result was most humiliating. During the whole ceremony, they looked like sheep without a shepherd. The white members went forward to the altar by the bench full; and when it was evident that all the whites had been served with the bread and wine, Brother Bonney—pious Brother Bonney—after a long pause, as if inquiring whether all the whites members had been served, and fully assuring himself on that important point, then raised his voice to an unnatural117 pitch, and looking to the corner where his black sheep seemed penned, beckoned118 with his hand, exclaiming, “Come forward, colored friends! come forward! You, too, have an interest in the blood of Christ. God is no respecter of persons. Come forward, and take this holy sacrament to your[275] comfort.” The colored members poor, slavish souls went forward, as invited. I went out, and have never been in that church since, although I honestly went there with a view to joining that body. I found it impossible to respect the religious profession of any who were under the dominion119 of this wicked prejudice, and I could not, therefore, feel that in joining them, I was joining a Christian church, at all. I tried other churches in New Bedford, with the same result, and finally, I attached myself to a small body of colored Methodists, known as the Zion Methodists. Favored with the affection and confidence of the members of this humble120 communion, I was soon made a classleader and a local preacher among them. Many seasons of peace and joy I experienced among them, the remembrance of which is still precious, although I could not see it to be my duty to remain with that body, when I found that it consented to the same spirit which held my brethren in chains.
In four or five months after reaching New Bedford, there came a young man to me, with a copy of the Liberator, the paper edited by WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON121, and published by ISAAC KNAPP, and asked me to subscribe122 for it. I told him I had but just escaped from slavery, and was of course very poor, and remarked further, that I was unable to pay for it then; the agent, however, very willingly took me as a subscriber123, and appeared to be much pleased with securing my name to his list. From this time I was brought in contact with the mind of William Lloyd Garrison. His paper took its place with me next to the bible.
The Liberator was a paper after my own heart. It detested124 slavery exposed hypocrisy125 and wickedness in high places—made no truce126 with the traffickers in the bodies and souls of men; it preached human brotherhood, denounced oppression, and, with all the solemnity of God’s word, demanded the complete emancipation127 of my race. I not only liked—I loved this paper, and its editor. He seemed a match for all the oponents(sic) of emancipation, whether they spoke128 in the name of the law, or the gospel.[276] His words were few, full of holy fire, and straight to the point. Learning to love him, through his paper, I was prepared to be pleased with his presence. Something of a hero worshiper, by nature, here was one, on first sight, to excite my love and reverence129.
Seventeen years ago, few men possessed a more heavenly countenance130 than William Lloyd Garrison, and few men evinced a more genuine or a more exalted131 piety132. The bible was his text book—held sacred, as the word of the Eternal Father—sinless perfection—complete submission133 to insults and injuries—literal obedience134 to the injunction, if smitten135 on one side to turn the other also. Not only was Sunday a Sabbath, but all days were Sabbaths, and to be kept holy. All sectarism false and mischievous—the regenerated136, throughout the world, members of one body, and the HEAD Christ Jesus. Prejudice against color was rebellion against God. Of all men beneath the sky, the slaves, because most neglected and despised, were nearest and dearest to his great heart. Those ministers who defended slavery from the bible, were of their “father the devil”; and those churches which fellowshiped slaveholders as Christians137, were synagogues of Satan, and our nation was a nation of liars138. Never loud or noisy—calm and serene139 as a summer sky, and as pure. “You are the man, the Moses, raised up by God, to deliver his modern Israel from bondage,” was the spontaneous feeling of my heart, as I sat away back in the hall and listened to his mighty140 words; mighty in truth—mighty in their simple earnestness.
I had not long been a reader of the Liberator, and listener to its editor, before I got a clear apprehension of the principles of the anti-slavery movement. I had already the spirit of the movement, and only needed to understand its principles and measures. These I got from the Liberator, and from those who believed in that paper. My acquaintance with the movement increased my hope for the ultimate freedom of my race, and I united with it from a sense of delight, as well as duty.[277]
Every week the Liberator came, and every week I made myself master of its contents. All the anti-slavery meetings held in New Bedford I promptly attended, my heart burning at every true utterance141 against the slave system, and every rebuke142 of its friends and supporters. Thus passed the first three years of my residence in New Bedford. I had not then dreamed of the posibility(sic) of my becoming a public advocate of the cause so deeply imbedded in my heart. It was enough for me to listen—to receive and applaud the great words of others, and only whisper in private, among the white laborers143 on the wharves, and elsewhere, the truths which burned in my breast.
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succor
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| n.援助，帮助；v.给予帮助 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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illustrating
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| 给…加插图( illustrate的现在分词 )； 说明； 表明； （用示例、图画等）说明 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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laborer
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| n.劳动者，劳工 | |
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liberator
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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8
subsisting
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| v.（靠很少的钱或食物）维持生活，生存下去( subsist的现在分词 ) | |
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9
narrate
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| v.讲，叙述 | |
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10
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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11
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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12
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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13
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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14
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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15
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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16
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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17
encumbrance
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| n.妨碍物，累赘 | |
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18
rivet
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| n.铆钉；vt.铆接，铆牢；集中(目光或注意力) | |
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19
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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20
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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21
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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22
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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23
vindicated
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| v.澄清（某人/某事物）受到的责难或嫌疑( vindicate的过去式和过去分词 )；表明或证明（所争辩的事物）属实、正当、有效等；维护 | |
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24
subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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25
charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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26
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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27
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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28
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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29
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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30
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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31
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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32
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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33
whitewash
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| v.粉刷，掩饰；n.石灰水，粉刷，掩饰 | |
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34
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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35
kidnappers
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| n.拐子，绑匪( kidnapper的名词复数 ) | |
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36
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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37
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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38
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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39
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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41
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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42
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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43
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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44
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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45
rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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46
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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47
redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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48
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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49
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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50
hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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51
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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52
initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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53
pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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54
dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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55
overhauled
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| v.彻底检查( overhaul的过去式和过去分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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56
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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57
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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58
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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59
illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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60
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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61
molest
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| vt.骚扰，干扰，调戏 | |
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62
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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63
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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64
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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65
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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66
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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67
laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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68
conversant
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| adj.亲近的，有交情的，熟悉的 | |
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69
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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70
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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71
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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72
warehouses
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| 仓库，货栈( warehouse的名词复数 ) | |
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73
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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74
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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75
nosily
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| 好打听地，爱管闲事地 | |
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76
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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77
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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78
snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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79
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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80
mallet
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| n.槌棒 | |
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81
bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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82
nominally
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| 在名义上，表面地； 应名儿 | |
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83
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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84
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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85
transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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86
transact
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| v.处理；做交易；谈判 | |
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87
scrupulously
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| adv.一丝不苟地；小心翼翼地，多顾虑地 | |
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88
fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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89
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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90
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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91
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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92
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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93
sloop
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| n.单桅帆船 | |
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94
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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95
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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96
Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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97
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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98
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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99
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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100
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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101
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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102
proscribed
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| v.正式宣布（某事物）有危险或被禁止( proscribe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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103
proscription
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| n.禁止，剥夺权利 | |
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104
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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105
renounced
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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106
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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107
mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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108
ascertaining
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的现在分词 ) | |
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109
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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110
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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111
ordinances
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| n.条例，法令( ordinance的名词复数 ) | |
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112
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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113
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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114
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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115
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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116
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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117
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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118
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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119
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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120
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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121
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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122
subscribe
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| vi.(to)订阅，订购；同意；vt.捐助，赞助 | |
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123
subscriber
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| n.用户，订户；（慈善机关等的）定期捐款者；预约者；签署者 | |
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124
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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126
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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127
emancipation
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| n.（从束缚、支配下）解放 | |
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128
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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129
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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130
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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131
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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132
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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133
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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134
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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136
regenerated
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| v.新生，再生( regenerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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137
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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138
liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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140
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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141
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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142
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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143
laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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