Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1846-03-20

connected with slavery. Now, under these
circumstances your testimony is of the ut
most importance. 1t will serve to give effect
to my exposures of slavery, both at home
and abrold. ! hope ! shall not administer to
your vanity when | tell you that you seem
10 have been raised up for this purpose! |
came 10 this land with the highest testimo-
malls from SOM Of the most intelligent and
distinguished abolitionists in the United
States yet some here have entertained and
expressed doubt as to whether | have ever
been a slave. lou may easily Imagine the
perplexing and embarrassing nature Of my
situation, and how anxious | must have been
to be relieved from it.. You, sir, have re-
lieved me. | now stand before both the A.
merican and British public, endorsed by you
as being just what | have ever represented
myself to be-tO wit, an american STARE.
You say, " ] knew this recreant slave by
the name OF Frederick Baily" instead. of
Douglass.) Yes, that was my name; and
leaving out the term r~ecreant, which savors a
little of bitterness, your testimony is direct
and perfect-just what | have long wanted.
But you are not yet satisfied. You seem de-
termined to bear the most ample testimony
in my favor. You say you knew me when /
lived with Mr.. Convey. And with most of
the persons" mentioned in my narrative,
you are intimately acquainted" This is
excellent. Then Mr.. Edward Convey is not
a creature of my imagination, but really did
and may yet exist.
gu thus brush away the miserable insinu-
alton OF my northern pro-slavery enemies,
that have used fictitious not real names.
gu =" Col. Lloyd was a wealthy plan
ter. MIR. Gore was once an overseer for Col.
Lloyd, but is now living n5lr St. Michael's,
is respected, and you believe he is a mem
Der of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Mr..
Thomas Aud is an honorable and worthy
member of the Methods, Episcopal Church,
and all that can be said of him is, that he is
a good Christian" &C., &C., Do allow me,
once more, to thank you for this triumphant
vinlicat;on Of the truth Of my statements {;
and to show you how highly | value your
testimony, will inform yon that | am now
publishing a second edition of my narrative
in this country, having already disposed OF
the first. l will insert your article with my
reply as an appendix, to the edition now in
progress. 1t you find any fault with my fire.
quent thanks, you may find some excuse 70
me in the fact, that have serious fears that
you will be but poorly thanked by those
whose characters you have felt it your duty
to defend. | am almost certain they will
regard you as running before you were sent,
and as having spoken when you should have
been silent. Under these trying circumsan-
ces, it is evidently the duty of those interested
in your welflre to extend to you such words
of consolation as may ease, il not remove,
the pain of your sad disappointment! But
enough Of this.
Now, then, to the second part-or your
denIals. You are confident | did not write
the book and the reason Of your confidence
is, that when You knew me, | was an I'M
learned and rather al ordinary negro Well,
] have to admit | was rather an ordinary ne
gro when you knew me, and ! do not claim
to be a very extraordinary one now. But you
knew me under very unfavorable circumstan-
ces. 1t was when | lived with Nj. Convey,
the negro-breaker, and msmJer Of the Metho-
dist Church. | had just been living with
Master TEomls Aud, where | had been re.
duced by hunger. Master Thomas did not
allow me enough to eat. Well, when | lived
with Mr.. Covey, | was driven so hard, and
whipt so often, that my soul was crushed
and my spirits broken. | was a mere wreck.
The degradation to which | was then sub
jected, as | now look back 10 it, seems moro
like a dream than a horrible reality. | can
scarcely realize how / ever passed through
it, without quite losing all my moral and in
tellectual energies. ] can easily understand
tina you sincerely doubt if | wrote the mar
rative for if any one had told me, seven
years ago, | should ever be able to write
such an one, | should have doubted as strong
ly as you how do. You must not Judge me
now by what | then was-a change Of cir
cumstances has Inlde a surprising change in
me. Frederick Douglass, the freeman. is
a very different person from Frederick Bal
ley,* the STARE. | feel myself almost a new
man freedom has given me new life. ]
fancy you would scarcely know me. | think
! have altered very much in my general ap.
pearance, and know | have in my manners
You remember when | used to meet you OF
the road to st. Michael's, or near Mr.. Co
vey's lane gate, l hardly dared to lift my
head, and look up at you. If [ should NEE
you now, amid the free hills of old Scotland
where the ancient "black Douglass " once
met his foes, | presume | might summon suf
%icient fortitude t., look you full in the face
and were you to attempt to make a slave oil
me, it is possible you might find me almos
as disagreeable a subject, as was the Doug
lass to whom ! have just referred. OF ont
thing, | am certain-you would see a grea
change in me
l trust l have now explained away you
reason for thinking | did not write the nara
tive in question.
t You next deny the existence of such cru
/ city in Maryland as | reveal in my narrative
4 and ask, with true marvellous simplicity
" could it be possible that charitable, feelin
l men could murder human beings with as lii
-
"My former name.