The name given me by my beloved mother was no less pretentious than "Frederick Augustus Washington Bailey." I had, however, before leaving Maryland, dispensed 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 overhauled 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 annoyance of the original "Johnsons" (of whom there were many) in that place.