New Podcast Episode: Frederick Douglass Boston Sites

Phillips Street sign, where I begin my Frederick Douglass Boston journey, 2016 Amy Cools

I commence my Frederick Douglas Boston journey on Phillips St, and long for my bike. Mine is blue. Sigghhh

Listen to this podcast episode here or subscribe on iTunes

Sixth Day, Friday March 25th

As I am quick to discover, parking is at a premium in central Boston and its environs. I’ve decided not to pay the high garage rates and stick with metered parking (reasonably priced but harder to find). It’s to be expected in an awesome, busy, historically important city, of course, just be prepared! It’s such a handsome city, so much to look at, and I long for my bike: fleet, nimble, with uninterrupted view, parkable anywhere there’s a pole. At times such as this, a car feels like little but an expensive burden.

Frederick Douglass never did live here in Boston, but this city has many connections with his life: he and his family lived just a few miles north of here in Lynn from 1841-47. Douglass visited, worked, and spoke here often, and the Boston Anti-Slavery Society published his Narrative which, combined with his speaking tour of the British Isles and the United States that followed, catapulted him to fame and made him the leading African American abolitionist of his time… Read the original account here

Ordinary Philosophy and its Traveling Philosophy / History of Ideas series is a labor of love and is ad-free, entirely supported by patrons and readers like you. Please offer your support today!

New Podcast Episode: Frederick Douglass New Bedford, Massachusetts Sites

Nathan and Polly Johnson House (and adjoining) at 21 Seventh St, New Bedford MA, 2016 Amy Cools

Nathan and Polly Johnson House (and adjoining) at 21 Seventh St, New Bedford MA, 2016 Amy Cools

Listen to this podcast episode here or subscribe on iTunes

Fifth Day 5, Thursday March 24th

When I arrive in the old whaling town of New Bedford, Massachusetts, it’s overcast and very chilly. I had so enjoyed the respite from the cold in New York City’s balmy weather I was already a little spoiled. But I’m wearing lots of wool and my shearling boots, so I think I’m prepared. I start with the New Bedford Whaling National Historical Park visitor center, run by the National Park Service. Several of the town’s buildings of historical interest are also preserved by the NPS, including one of particular interest for my journey today. The visitor center is housed in the Old Third District Courthouse constructed in 1835, a handsome Greek Revival building.

I’m assisted by the kind and knowledgeable Diane Altman Berube, and when I describe the purpose of my trip, she immediately supplies me with information, advice, a map, some pamphlets about Frederick Douglass, the town’s Underground Railroad and abolitionist history (a strong one!), and another about the 54th Regiment of the Union Army and an accompanying collection of cards, like baseball cards, with images and stories of men involved…

… Read the original account here

Ordinary Philosophy and its Traveling Philosophy / History of Ideas series is a labor of love and ad-free, entirely supported by patrons and readers like you. Please offer your support today!

New Podcast Episode: Frederick Douglass New York City Sites

230 and 232 W. 135th St, Harlem, New York City, photo 2016 by Amy Cools

230 and 232 W. 135th St, Harlem, New York City

Listen to this podcast episode here or subscribe on iTunes

Fourth Day, Wednesday March 23rd

I arrived yesterday afternoon in New York City and had a good hangout with my friend with whom I’m staying (thanks, Devin!).

After doing more research and mapping out today’s journey, I head to my first destination. I take the subway to lower Manhattan to the Brooklyn Bridge stop, zigzag my way southeast to Wall and William Streets, then down to S. William St. Wall Street was the northern border of the city when it was still young, so I decide it’s as good a way as any to get a feel for the old city, though really, the truly old intact buildings in NYC are scattered, and few. I’m only looking back to the 1830’s for this trip, but as you may know or may remember from my earlier series on Ernestine Rose and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, this city has a long history of tearing everything down regularly and starting fresh…

… Read the original account here

Ordinary Philosophy and its Traveling Philosophy / History of Ideas series is a labor of love and ad-free, entirely supported by patrons and readers like you. Please offer your support today!

New Podcast Episode: Frederick Douglass Havre de Grace and Philadelphia Sites

Mother Bethel A.M.E. Church, Old City Philadelphia

Mother Bethel A.M.E. Church, Old City Philadelphia

Listen to this podcast episode here or subscribe on iTunes

Third day, Tuesday March 22nd

I head north, the direction of freedom for the American slave of the antebellum south. Spoiler alert: so did Frederick Douglass! To his and all of our great benefit, he took his life and whatever fortunes he could hope to enjoy in Maryland into his own hands, and made his risky bid for freedom in September 1838 at age 20.

Douglass was a particularly clever young man, and by this time, had educated himself to an impressive degree for anyone his age, let alone one who had to get his learning on the sly while working more than full time. He had honed his skills, become more resourceful, and gained a wider circle of friends, and he counted on all of these to make this attempt more successful than the first…

… Read the original account here

Ordinary Philosophy and its Traveling Philosophy / History of Ideas series is a labor of love and ad-free, entirely supported by patrons and readers like you. Please offer your support today!

On Martyrdom

Memorial at Ben Gurion High school in Afula for students murdered in a suicide bombing in April 1994, by Almog (cropped), public domain via Wikimedia CommonsThe school shooting at Oregon’s Umpqua Community College on October 1st, 2015 ended with nine dead and many more injured. The shootings may have been religiously motivated: according to some reports, the gunman commanded some of the students to stand up, asked if they were Christian, and when they responded ‘yes’, he shot them down.

Some have praised these murder victims as Christian martyrs dying for their faith. In one sense, it’s a plausible, and in any sense, an understandable interpretation of what happened: the gunman shot them down after they responded ‘Yes’ to his question ‘Are you a Christian?’ Other survivors tell the story a little differently. In any case, the martyr interpretation is tricky: if it did happen as described above, the murder victims wouldn’t have known ahead of time whether ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was the right answer, as at least one survivor pointed out. Though they may have intended to defy death rather than deny their faith, they could instead have thought that the truthful answer of ‘yes’ would save them from death. Sadly, we can never really know.

I’ve found myself discomfited at the way many have used the horrific murders at Umpqua as a vindication of their own world view, often by portraying it as a tale of heroic martyrdom triumphing over evil. The account of the shooting itself is a very important story to tell: it’s one in a series of so many others in our country and around the world where disturbed young men channel their obsessions and their rage through the barrel of a gun and into the bodies of other people. There are so many similarities between the circumstances and motivations of the shooters that we have no choice, if we’re honest, but to acknowledge there’s a serious problem. We’ve seen too many times that maleness, youth, ideological extremism, mental disturbance, social alienation, and obsession with guns are a deadly mix. But when examples of mass killings and terrorism such as the Umpqua shooting are recast as tales of martyrdom, the motivation they should inspire in us, to do all we can to stop the killing, can for others become lost in the romanticism of idealized self-sacrifice.

Detail of a miniature of the burning of the Grand Master of the Templars and another Templar. From the Chroniques de France ou de St Denis, Public Domain via Wikimedia CommonsThat’s because we’re still under the influence of a very old, even primal idea: that death is rendered not only glorious but a worthy goal if it’s for a cause. Nearly all ideologies and belief systems still prize their martyrs, and we see, worryingly, the resurgence of this idea in some parts of the world are leading to ever more deadly results. Martyrdom has long been such a potent symbol of belief and an effective recruitment tool that if there aren’t any genuine ones to hold up for emulation, it’s a sure bet some will be created. The Umpqua tragedy may be an example of this, of recasting the horrific murder of innocent people as a romantic tale of holy self-immolation in defiance of evil personified. The memory of the lives of the innocents who died there, and the heroism of those who risked themselves to protect others from harm, can become lost in the ideological rhetoric.

But what of beautiful, inspiring, authentic examples of martyrdom? How about Father Damien of Hawaii’s Molokai Island, who ministered to the leper colony quarantined there until he died from contracting the disease himself? How about Quảng Đức, who immolated himself in protest of the South Vietnamese government’s persecution of Buddhists? How about Joan of Arc (who’s long been an subject of my admiration and fascination), who was executed for refusing to betray her own beliefs about her mission to deliver the French from English rule? How about countless soldiers who have thrown themselves on mines and grenades and dashed through enemy fire to save innocent civilians and their comrades in arms? There are so many moving accounts of people who suffer and die because they will not compromise or allow themselves to speak or act otherwise than their sense of self and honor will allow. I, too, am deeply moved by the beauty and strength of their courage.

Joan of Arc statue in Paris, France, photo 2015 by Amy CoolsYet I am simultaneously wary of glorifying these cases of martyrdom for martyrdom’s sake, even when the circumstances of deaths such as these appear most moving, most noble, and most beautiful. That’s because I can’t forget, and I believe none of us can afford to forget, that what makes death or suffering count as martyrdom depends entirely on your frame of reference. My martyr may be your heretic; your martyr may be my traitor who deserved death; my martyr may be the holy warrior who attacked your corrupt and sinful country in the name of all that’s holy and your deadly foe it’s your patriotic duty to destroy. Martyrdom of this sort, understood as the ultimate sacrifice of the death-defying, uncompromising champion of the ultimate good, knows no side and every side. Every side claims their own, and every side who has martyrs to claim (creating them if necessary) treats them as their trump card, the ultimate demonstration of the rightness and superiority of their own beliefs. There’s Father Damien, and there are kamikaze pilots. There’s Quảng Đức, and there are suicide bombers. There’s Joan of Arc, and there are Crusaders, jihadists, those who carried out pogroms, and youth who still flock every day to join the ranks of ISIS and fight to deliver sacred territory from the hated infidels.

But surely there’s a distinction between those whose form of martyrdom imposes death and suffering on others, and those who choose suffering and death for themselves alone?

Kamikaze attack left HMS Formidable burning, 1945, by Royal Navy photographer aboard HMS Victorious (cropped), public domain via Wikimedia CommonsBut here’s the problem: if it’s okay to sacrifice one person, even if that person is one’s own self, then it’s more than just a slippery slope to thinking it’s okay to sacrifice others. As we can see in such cases as kamikaze pilots, crusaders, holy warriors, and suicide bombers, the glorification of martyrdom has always had the unfortunate tendency to inspire willingness to sacrifice others along with ourselves. After all, if it’s good to sacrifice one person for the greater good, isn’t it at least as good or even better to sacrifice more people? But self-inflicted martyrdom which simultaneously kills others is generally not driven by this sort of calculation, of each side just upping the ante. When we consider martyrdom, we must also consider the ideologies and belief systems that inspire or at least allow for it. And nearly all not only involve a belief in an afterlife, they believe this world is merely a proving ground for that afterlife, so death counts for little in comparison to eternity. Furthermore, most ideologies and faiths who glorify martyrdom base their beliefs on sacred books in which holy war and violent destruction of the nonbeliever, the godless, the idolator, and the infidel is celebrated as much or even more than personal martyrdom. In the end, we end up with the same old world full of mutually hostile martyr/holy warrior belief systems that have led to centuries of violent religious and ideological conflict and ethnic cleansing.

Martyrdom of Four Crowned Martyrs by Mario Minniti, San Pietro dal Carmine, at Siracusa, Sicily, public domain via Wikimedia CommonsAnd who’s to say who’s right? Which religion, which ideology has the correct view of martyrdom? Which, if any, can be demonstrated to inspire true martyrdom, to the exclusion of others? Bertrand Russell, philosopher and ardent pacifist, is often quoted as saying ‘I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong’. Many have described this as cynical or revealing a weakness of character, an inability to form convictions. I think a more fair and charitable interpretation is that Russell believed everyone should practice proper epistemic humility. Especially when it comes to such a momentous question as preserving human life, our own and others: we should do so whenever possible, since whatever our other beliefs, we can all readily demonstrate, whatever our other beliefs, that other human beings suffer grief when we die and that we can surely help others when we’re around to do so. It’s far more difficult to demonstrate, for example, that God likes it even better when we die in his name or that we can help those on earth from beyond the grave, as believers in intercessory prayer or spiritualists hold. Better all around, when it comes to our safety as well as our chances of not believing in things that are terribly wrong, when we’re accountable to one another for the larger consequences of our beliefs.

But how if we take religion and ideology out of it, and consider only those cases where the martyr’s entire cause is the well-being of others? Even in these cases, the problem is a simple matter of justice: it’s difficult to see how one can truly believe that all persons have equal rights and dignity and are therefore deserving of care, and still believe it’s okay to sacrifice one’s own well-being when that sacrifice can be avoided. There are times in which it can’t be: the example of heroic soldiers throwing themselves on grenades to save others comes to mind as a paradigm example of justifiable self-sacrifice, since equal concern for all logically allows for sacrificing one’s self to save many. Others are not so clear: Father Damien was clearly motivated by a noble desire to help his fellow human beings as he ministered to the exiled lepers at Molokai. He made it a point to embrace and kiss the lesions of patients to show a Christlike love, but the ideology of martyrdom that also drove him may have robbed him of an even better opportunity, the opportunity to show that love to more of his fellow human beings by keeping himself alive to serve them. If he had taken reasonable precautions to care for his own well-being and avoid contracting the disease, known in his time to be contagious, he likely would have lived much longer to serve the people who loved and counted on him; kissing of lesions and other reckless exposure to contagion is not an unavoidable requirement for showing our deep concern for others. Martyrdom, though it may not be apparent, involves at least to some degree the inequitable valuing of the lives of persons, at the very least our own.

And this leads us to consider whether martyrdom is really the ultimate altruistic, selfless act it’s so often characterized to be. It’s hard to see how there can be such a thing as truly selfless martyrdom in a world in which human lives are so intertwined. Through death, parents are deprived of a child, children of a parent, siblings of a sibling, friends of a friend, citizens of a fellow citizen, the needy of a benefactor, the world of a unique life that has something to offer. It seems to me, then, our lives are not fully our own: they are given to us by others, are largely sustained by the efforts of others, and provide emotional support for others, and vice versa. There is no human being that doesn’t rely on the support and contributions of others to sustain it and make it secure and happy. As in the case of Father Damien, when we choose death over life, we remove ourselves from the human community of inter-reliance we all belong to. I’m speaking here in the worldly sense; according to many religions, we can help others after death by interceding with God or by providing personal supernatural guidance, such as in spiritualist beliefs. But as we’ve already considered, this view of martyrdom as a holy thing is hard to justify consistently, and even worse, it necessarily values supernatural concerns over worldly ones, allowing for the same disdain for life that underlies all forms of martyrdom, from the self-sacrificer to the jihadist. So even when it appears that a martyr is sacrificing nothing but their own life and happiness, this is rarely if ever the case. And if this is so, our right to sacrifice our own life and well-being appears very tenuous in all but those very special circumstances, such as the case of those grenade-blocking soldiers who can’t help others unless they risk themselves.

Eleanor Roosevelt and Human Rights Declaration, public domain via Wikimedia CommonsIn a world where religiously-, politically-, and ideologically-motivated terrorism and mass shootings are again on the rise, we need to let go of our old cherished ideal of martyrdom as the ultimate holy and noble act. If we want to instill in ourselves and others the value that all lives matter, the glorification of any kind of martyrdom appears as toxic to this as the old belief in the curative powers of bleeding and purging was to health. This seems like a call for rejecting our long-loved heroes, our Joans and Quảngs and Damiens, but I don’t believe it is. We have a robust capacity for understanding that context matters, and just as we can believe George Washington’s doctors did their best to cure him the only (turns out wrong) way they knew how, we can simultaneously revere the courage and conviction of martyrs of the past while believing that in the age of universal human rights and ethics of care, martyrdom is the wrong way to go and should not be glorified, praised, or used as evidence of the superiority of our own beliefs over others.

*Listen to the podcast version here or subscribe on iTunes

Ordinary Philosophy and its Traveling Philosophy / History of Ideas series is a labor of love and is ad-free, entirely supported by patrons and readers like you. Please offer your support today!

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Sources and Inspiration:

The Death of George Washington‘, The George Washington Digital Encyclopedia

Father Damien‘. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.

Sidner, Sara and Kyung Lah, Steve Almasy and Ralph Ellis. ‘Oregon Shooting: Gunman was Student in Class Where He Killed 9’. CNN (online), October 2, 2015. 

‘The “Werther-effect”: Legend or Reality?’ (abstract). Neuropsychiatr. 2007;21(4):284-90. Source: PubMed.gov http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/18082110

Turkewitz, Julie. ‘Oregon Gunman Smiled, Then Fired, Student Says’
The New York Times (0nline), Oct. 9, 2015

Vanderhart, Dirk and Kirk Johnson and Julie Turkewitz. ‘Oregon Shooting at Umpqua College Kills 10, Sheriff Says’, The New York Times (0nline), Oct. 1, 2015.

O.P. Recommends: Ordinary Language Philosophy, by Melvin Bragg and Guests

Drawing of Ludwig Wittgenstein by Christiaan Tonnism, Pencil on board 1985, Creative Commons via Wikimedia CommonsFrom time to time, like anyone who publishes online, I do an online search for ‘Ordinary Philosophy’ to see what comes up. Without fail, the first results are a list of articles and discussions on ordinary language philosophy. It recently occurred to me that I should discuss ordinary language philosophy with my readers, not only because it’s such an interesting and influential school of philosophical thought, but because it likely influenced the name ‘Ordinary Philosophy’. I say ‘likely’ because, though I have no memory of having ordinary language philosophy on my mind at the time, my familiarity and interest with it no doubt kept the phrase stored in my mind, easily recalled through some sort of unconscious word association.

This school of thought holds that problems and contradictions in philosophy arise chiefly through confusing language as actually used in everyday discourse with technical language, or terms abstracted from ordinary usage and understood to have discrete, consistent definitions. A ready example is eternity. What is eternity?  What do we mean by ‘eternity’? Are these two questions asking the same thing in different ways or are they actually asking two different questions? If, for example, we understand eternity to mean an infinite duration of time, how does this make sense if we know time to have at least one defining boundary, its beginning at the big bang? Do we mean just one thing when we talk about eternity, as in the example of religious doctrines which hold that all souls have eternal life, or does it have a variety of very different but equally valid meanings, such as in this example of a common usage ‘this water is taking an eternity to boil’. If eternity has only has one or a limited set of valid meanings, why is/are these meaning(s) valid and not others?

The brilliant Melvin Bragg, author and radio host and documentarian par excellence (his video series on the history of the English language The Adventure of English is among my very favorite documentary series) discusses ordinary language philosophy with philosophers Stephen Mulhall, Ray Monk, and Julia Tanney on his program In Our Time on BBC’s Radio 4. This discussion is comprehensive and very interesting, and there are few hosts better than Bragg at keeping the discussion clear, orderly, and comprehensive. He makes sure to require his interviewees to define and clarify their terms and provide the necessary background before getting too technical. However, if you happen to find the tone and style of academic discourse rather dry, this discussion may be a little hard to listen to with full attention all the way through. Still, I think it an excellent introduction to ordinary language philosophy, and I’ve included a short list of links below of other very helpful resources for better understanding this interesting and important school of thought.

After all, there are many ways we actually express the same ideas, and some are more effective than others at promoting understanding depending on the listener. So, while some might prefer Bragg’s style of moderated academic discussion, others might find Sally Parker-Ryan’s entry in the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy much more clear and enjoyable to read. The variety of ways we express and understand things is among the very problems that ordinary language philosophy may be particularly helpful in figuring out.

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Sources and inspiration:c

Blackburn, Simon. ‘Philosophy of Language: Ordinary Language Philosophy‘. Encyclopædia Britannica

Bragg, Melvin, Stephen Mulhall, Ray Monk, and Julia Tanney.’Ordinary Language Philosophy‘. In Our Time, BBC Radio 4

Magee, Bryan and John Searle. ‘John Searle on Ludwig Wittgenstein‘ video series.

Parker-Ryan, Sally. ‘Ordinary Language Philosophy‘. The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy

 

New Podcast Episode: Frederick Douglass’s Birthplace, Easton, and St Michaels, Maryland’s Eastern Shore Sites

Easton, MD on a bright spring morning in March, photo 2016 by Amy Cools

Easton, MD on a bright spring morning in March

Listen to this podcast episode here or subscribe on iTunes

Second day, Monday March 21st

I wake up early, and make my way to Maryland’s east shore, looking forward to a beautiful day in the country. It’s windy and very cold, but clear and sunny. I head for downtown Easton: the route from there to my first destination is easiest to follow for a non-local like me. And I can use all the help I can get: this will be the first site I visit in any of my history travels where I will rely both on maps that predate the turn of the 20th century and natural landmarks to locate it.

… Read the original travel account here and here (originally published in two installments)

Ordinary Philosophy and its Traveling Philosophy / History of Ideas series is a labor of love and ad-free, entirely supported by patrons and readers like you. Please offer your support today!

Frederick Douglass Boston Sites

Phillips Street sign, where I begin my Frederick Douglass Boston journey, 2016 Amy Cools

I commence my Frederick Douglas Boston journey on Phillips St, and long for my bike. Mine is blue with upright bars for better sightseeing. Sigghhh.

Sixth Day, Friday March 25th

As I’m quick to discover, parking is at a premium in central Boston and its environs. I’ve decided not to pay the high garage rates and stick with metered parking (reasonably priced but harder to find). It’s to be expected in an awesome, busy, historically important city, of course, just be prepared! It’s such a handsome city, so much to look at, and I long for my bike: fleet, nimble, with uninterrupted view, parkable anywhere there’s a pole. At times such as this, a car feels like little but an expensive burden.

Frederick Douglass never did live here in Boston, but this city has many connections with his life: he and his family lived just a few miles north of here in Lynn from 1841-47. Douglass visited, worked, and spoke here often, and the Boston Anti-Slavery Society published his Narrative which, combined with his speaking tour of the British Isles and the United States that followed, catapulted him to fame and made him the leading African American abolitionist of his time.

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, published by Boston Anti-Slavery Society, image L.O.C.

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, published by Boston Anti-Slavery Society, image: Library of Congress. It was published on Cornhill St which no longer exists, but I passed near its old location while walking through City Hall Plaza

As I discussed an earlier piece on Frederick Douglass and the Constitution, Douglass had a falling-out over time with the abolitionist movement of William Lloyd Garrison in the early 1850’s. The Garrisonians rejected the Constitution as a pro-slavery document and as a result, considered the government unjust and therefore illegitimate; Douglass came to believe that the Constitution, if interpreted correctly, is an anti-slavery document, and the government must be reclaimed from its pro-slavery element by seizing power through political channels if possible, through violence if necessary. The advent of the Civil War changed everything; in the face of this monumental upheaval and national crisis, political and theoretical disagreements no longer seemed so important. (Douglass demonstrates, to my mind, that one can be fully both a fiery revolutionary and a pragmatist.)

In November of 1861, the Emancipation League organized in Boston, where Douglass, the followers of Gerrit Smith (who influenced Douglass to reexamine the way he interpreted the Constitution) and the Garrisonian abolitionists formally reconciled so they could rally and unite their efforts in the cause of the Civil War cause for national union and the end of slavery. Try as I might, I’m unable to locate any exact addresses where they assembled, though I find many newspaper accounts from the time announcing their meetings and relating their activities in Boston and elsewhere. These activities included petitioning the Senate to commence emancipation efforts in earnest.

From the Daily National Republican, January 12, 1863 2nd Ed, from Chronicling America, Library of Congress

From the Daily National Republican, January 12, 1863 2nd edition from Chronicling America, Library of Congress

I begin my day’s journey by heading up Beacon Hill, where many of Boston’s abolitionists and black people settled, to 43-47 Phillips St, one block north of Cambridge between Grove and Anderson. I start here for efficiency’s sake since it’s right up the way from the coffee shop where I’m marking out my map with some new details I’ve just learned. However, it doesn’t make sense to start my story here since what happens at this site is the second part of a two-part event, so I’ll tell you about it shortly.

Museum of Afro-American History and African Meeting House, Boston Massachusetts

Museum of Afro-American History in front of the African Meeting House, Beacon Hill, Smith Ct, Boston

African Meeting House on Beacon Hill in Boston, MA

African Meeting House, the oldest black church in America

Then I head east on Phillips, turn right (south) on Irving, left on Myrtle, left on Joy, to Smith Court which heads off to the left from Joy St between Cambridge and Myrtle. The African Meeting House stands at the end of Smith Court just behind the Museum of Afro-American History at 46 Joy St. The Meeting House was built in 1806 ‘…to house the first African Baptist Church of Boston (a.k.a. First Independent Baptist Church) and it is now the oldest extant black church building in America’ according to the National Park Service, which maintains it and many other Black Heritage sites here on Beacon Hill. Douglass, William Lloyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips, and Sarah Grimke all spoke here at the African Meeting House, and for those in this list of people I haven’t talked about yet in my account, they will feature later on. There’s a guided tour you can take in season (I’m here too early in the year for that) or the self guided tour. I wish I had another day to visit all the site, including the guided tour of the Meeting house which is actually available today but I’d have to wait till the next available time (which, sadly, I run out of). Next time I’m in Boston…!

There are a great few things about traveling to historical places in the off-season: the crowds are light and you can get better pictures, it’s cheaper to fly, and it’s a bit easier to park (the fact that I can hope to find street parking at all is pretty good, and I didn’t get a ticket either time my meter expired). But, the weather can be iffy, the trees are bare, and some places are closed or have very limited hours. So, you have to decide if the trade-offs are worth it.54th Regiment Memorial, Boston Common, 2016 by Amy Cools

Two closeups of the 54th Regiment Memorial at Boston Common. What determination revealed in these sculpted faces!

Two closeups of the 54th Regiment Memorial at Boston Common. What determination is expressed in these sculpted faces!

Then I turn back and head south to Boston Common, to the 54th Regiment Memorial on Beacon St at Park, near the park’s northeast corner. On May 28 1863, the Massachusetts 54th Infantry Regiment of 1000 troops marched triumphantly into Boston Common. It was the first black regiment to be raised in the North. As discussed in my post from yesterday’s travels to New Bedford, Douglass was instrumental in the fight to get Abraham Lincoln to authorize and federally fund black troops’ enlistment in the Union Army, and Douglass’ two sons Lewis and Charles enlisted to fight in this regiment. What a proud papa he certainly was!

Plaque honoring Crispus Attucks, at Philadelphia's African American Museum

Plaque honoring Crispus Attucks, at Philadelphia’s African American Museum

The 54th Regiment continued their march from Boston Common on to Battery Wharf (which I will also do soon), passing the site of the Boston Massacre. That incident, where a colonial mob dared British guards to fire on them until they did, happened outside of the Old State House, at Congress, Court, and Washington Sts. (John Adams successfully defended most of the British soldiers. Though he was as ardent a patriot as you could find, he was also a man of high integrity and made the legally sound argument and fair point that if a large mob attacks a small number of armed guards, they are duty bound to defend themselves, whatever side they’re on. Crispus Attucks, a man of African and Native American ancestry, was mortally wounded in that scuffle 0n March 5th, 1770, and is often regarded as the first American casualty of the American Revolution. When I passed by Philadelphia’s African American Museum a few days ago, I snapped a photo of his memorial plaque there, knowing I would soon visit the site of his death.

The Old State House, Boston Massachusetts

The Old State House in Boston Massachusetts, site of the Boston Massacre and of debates over whether the colonies should rebel against Britain

Back to the story of the 54th Regiment: Douglass was also active in recruiting efforts, believing that enlistment in the Union army, made possible by the Emancipation Proclamation, would give black people their chance to prove themselves as the strong, brave, patriotic, true Americans he knew them to be, and their participation in the war would establish their full right to citizenship once and for all. Unfortunately, black soldiers faced unfair and degrading treatment in the Union Army: lower pay than whites, less weapons and equipment, no chances for promotion, assigned the most dangerous and menial jobs, and so on. Many black soldiers, joined by the 54th’s white commander and son of wealthy Boston abolitionists Robert Gould Shaw, refused pay until it was equal, which was granted the next year. The South also imposed terrible penalties for captured black Union soldiers and anyone leading them: immediate execution, same as for insurrectionists. To his great credit, Shaw accepted no pay and braved the same risk of execution along with the rest of his regiment. In response to the poor treatment of black soldiers, Douglass stopped recruiting for awhile.

Tremont Temple (on the right), Boston, Massachusetts

Tremont Temple, the very ornamental building on the right, Boston, Massachusetts

Tremont Temple Plaque, Boston Massachusetts

Then I wind my way east of Boston Common to 88 Tremont St, between Bosworth and School, to Tremont Temple. From December 31st, 1862 through the next day’s New Year holiday, Union Progressive Association and about 3,000 attendees, abolitionists, and human rights advocates gathered to greet the official announcement of the Emancipation Proclamation, and Douglass spoke at this event.

Tremont Temple doorway, 'First Integrated Church in America'

Tremont Temple doorway, ‘First Integrated Church in America’

Douglass had spoken here before, and at one time was roughed up when the recent election of Abraham Lincoln inflamed pro-slavery violence against abolitionists, even in relatively anti-slavery Boston. The Temple structure now here dates to 1896, replacing the original 1827 fire-damaged, much smaller building. Many years later, in 1893 (still in the old building), Douglass’s friend and inspiration Ida B. Wells delivered a lecture on lynching here at Tremont Temple; as discussed in my account of following Douglass in NYC, she inspired his anti-lynching activism later in life.

After the Union Progressive Association’s celebration of the Emancipation Proclamation, the party left Tremont Temple, since it closed at midnight, and moved the meeting to Twelfth Baptist Church. After fighting, working, and hoping for such a proclamation for so long, the party was not to end anytime soon, not until the wee hours at least.

43-47 Phillips St, former site of Twelfth St Baptist Church in Boston, photo 2016 Amy Cools

43-47 Phillips St, former site of Twelfth St Baptist Church in Boston

I’ll backstep a bit here: remember the first site I visited today, on Phillips Street? That’s where the Twelfth Baptist Church (where the Emancipation Proclamation celebration continued) used to stand, founded by former congregants of the African Meeting House, at number 43-47 Phillips St, a little over a half mile away on the other side of Beacon Hill.

Faneuil Hall, Boston, Massachusetts

Faneuil Hall, Boston, Massachusetts

Then I head a little less than half a mile away in (kind of) the opposite direction of the Phillips St church site to Faneuil Hall at 1 Faneuil Square, where the body of Wendell Phillips lay in state in on February 6th 1884, after his funeral in the Hollis Street Church (more on this shortly, in fact, it’s the last story of the day and the most exciting as a traveling history nerd… ahem, enthusiast seeking a hard-to-find site). Phillips was another great human rights activist, writing in support of women’s civil rights including the right to the ballot box, in an article he published about two years before Elizabeth Cady Stanton famously introduced this same resolution at the 1848 Woman’s Rights Convention in Seneca Falls (we’ll be returning to this story in an upcoming piece). In his Life and Times, Douglass referred to the great abolitionist and reformer Phillip’s eloquence as ‘word painting’, an art which he had performed in life previously in this same hall.

A view from Battery Wharf, now used by the Coast Guard

A view from Battery Wharf, now used by the Coast Guard

Battery Wharf plaque maps, detail

Battery Wharf plaque maps, detail

Battery Wharf office building, Boston MA, photo 2016 by Amy Cools

Battery Wharf office building

Then after moving the car (again!) I head to Battery Wharf, where, as I described earlier, the 54th Infantry Regiment continued their triumphal march to the sea on May 28th, 1863, to travel by steamship to South Carolina. Seven weeks later, about a quarter of their number and their commander Shaw died in a bold and bloody assault on Fort Wagner. Though that battle was lost, the heroic example of these soldiers inspired many others to enlist, and Shaw’s body remained buried in a common grave with many of his soldiers. The Confederates who buried Shaw this way saw it as an insult, since officers were generally accorded their own burial with special honors, even by the enemy. Shaw’s abolitionist family and the soldiers inspired to join by the Fort Wagner fight, however, thought this manner of burial a great honor, and a testament to his courage as a soldier and his devotion to his men and the cause of human rights.

Tremont at Stuart, approaching the Citi Performing Arts Center, 2016 by Amy Cools

Tremont St at Stuart, approaching the Citi Performing Arts Center

I make the long walk south and a bit east, about a mile and a half, to the Citi Performing Arts Center. I’m seeking the site of the old Hollis Street Unitarian Church, where Wendell Phillips’ funeral took place prior to his lying in state at Faneuil Hall. This site took me far longer than any other site to find. I had scoured through old newspapers and finally discovered that his funeral was at ‘Hollis-street chapel’, certainly Hollis Street Unitarian Church, according to a Feb 16th 1884 edition of Washington D.C.’s The Bee. I found the entry in Chronicling America, an absolutely invaluable online resource for the history enthusiast on the go, an archive of old newspapers hosted on the Library of Congress website. (When fact-checking later, I find a secondary source that confirms this, based on another newspaper in an archive available only through a paid subscription.

Ye Wilbur Theater (left) and Wang Theater at Citi Performing Arts Center (right)

Ye Wilbur Theater (left) and Wang Theater at Citi Performing Arts Center (right)

To continue the story of Wendell Phillips’ funeral, which Douglass attended on February 56th, 1884… He was not alone: he was accompanied by his second wife, Helen Pitts Douglass, who he had married just that January. Helen was white, and even many of their closest friends and family couldn’t deal this fact, as we’ll discover more about later in this series. Even at this church packed with Phillips’ and Douglass’ most progressive, ardent, life-long abolitionists and human rights activists, no one would dare to be the first to sit next to them until… who other than the most beloved author of my youth, Louisa May Alcott. Alcott’s show of friendship and solidarity warms the deepest parts of my heart. I read every single Alcott novel I could get my hands on throughout my girl- and young adult-hood, over and over again. As it was and still is for so many young people, especially girls and women in the English speaking world, she was one of my primary early influences, one who helped set my moral compass more than just about anyone or anything else.

Wang Theater back end, along alley off Tremont St

A rear side view of Wang Theater along the alley off Tremont St

I expect to find little here today, since the history of the church reveals it’s no longer standing, but I made the trip and spend some time poking around anyway. Because that moment at Phillips’ funeral is so beautiful to me, I’m doing to dig deep. Clearly, from the name, the church was on Hollis St; trouble is, there’s no longer a Hollis Street according to Google Maps, the print maps I have with me, or anywhere else online. Poring over old city atlases earlier today, I at last discovered where Hollis Street used to be. It seems that stood about where the Tremont St garage is now, just south of the historic and grand Wang Theatre of the Citi Arts Center and Tufts Health Sciences campus behind it. More specifically, Hollis St used to connect Tremont and Washington Streets halfway between Kneeland and Oak.

I also discover that Hollis Street Church became Hollis Street Theater in 1885, after the congregation moved to a more spacious location the year after the funeral. I poke around, and walk up and down the walkway between the Wang Theater and the garage. Could the Wang Theater be standing on the site of the old Hollis St Theater? I notice that the front of the Wang Building differs in motifs and materials than the wide of the building. It occurs to me that possibly, a building already standing here may have been incorporated into the Wang Theater. Could there be remnants here of the old Hollis Theater, once the old Hollis Street Unitarian Church where the funeral was held? In researching the history of the Wang Theater, formerly the Metropolitan Theater, I find no evidence of this; by all accounts this grand theater was built entirely in 1925, and the photos of the old Hollis Street Church show a very different looking structure, though looking at the half-windowed bottom parts of the two buildings (see photo below and at the end of this piece), there are some similarities. Too bad, that would have been a great find!

Wang Theater on Tremont St, side facing alley, showing contrast between marble front and brick back sections of the building

Wang Theater on Tremont St, side facing alley, showing contrast between marble front and brick back sections of the building. As you can see, this side is undergoing some restoration work

But in a moment of good luck, as I’m scanning the building and the area surrounding it for any evidence of older structures, I spot something among the scaffolding that wraps around the front and south sides of the Wang Theater as its south end it undergoing some maintenance. Near the corner of the building are old brass letters which spell out ‘Tremont St’ on its west side and ‘…ollis St’ on the south. My heart skips a beat. Here it is: confirmation that this is where Hollis St was.

Wang Theatre's south side with scaffolding, photo 2016 by Amy Cools

Wang Theater's southwest corner revealing where Hollis St used to be, photo 2016 by Amy Cools

Wang Theater’s southwest corner revealing where Hollis St used to be

Hollis Street Church from the northeast, 1870, image public domain via Library of Congress

Hollis Street Church from the northeast, 1870, photo public domain via Library of Congress

We can see what the church looked like inside from an old photo I found onlineBut more importantly for my purposes here, the Library of Congress has a photo of the church ‘taken from the Northeast’. If that description is right, then it seems that the church stood not where the Wang Theater does but across from it, somewhere under where the Tremont St. Garage stands now, with its side facing Hollis (as you can see, it opens onto a square rather than the street) with its steepled front facing towards but not onto Washington St, and its back to Tremont.

This last discovery, successfully triangulating the location where this beautiful moment of true friendship, of love and sympathy overcoming prejudice, makes me feel very emotional and celebratory. My friend recommends The Lower Bottoms, a place that pours excellent ales, so off I go as the sun sets.

Many more adventures and exciting historical discoveries soon to come, as I continue to follow Douglass north… come on back, y’hear?

*Listen to the podcast version here or on iTunes

Wang Theater (left) and Tremont St Garage (right) view from Tremont St. (west)

Wang Theater (left) and Tremont St Garage (right) view from Tremont St. (west)

Ordinary Philosophy and its Traveling Philosophy / History of Ideas series is a labor of love and ad-free, supported by patrons and readers like you. Please offer your support today!

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Sources and Inspiration:

1843 Boston Almanac Church Engravings: Hollis Street Church‘. Congregational Library Exhibits website

54th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment‘. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.

African American Churches of Beacon Hill‘ and ‘African Meeting House‘. Boston African American National Historic Site Massachusetts, National Park Service website

Blassingame, J. (Ed.). The Frederick Douglass Papers, Series One: Speeches, Debates, and Interviews. 4 volumes, and The Frederick Douglass Papers, Series 2: Autobiographical Writings. 3 volumes. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1979-1999

Boston Athenæum Theater History‘, from BostonAthenæum.org

Brooks, Rebecca Beatrice. ‘Funerals and Wakes at Faneuil Hall‘. History of Massachusetts: A History Blog About The Bay State. May 14, 2012

Bromley, George Washington and Walter Scott. Boston, 1895. Index Map. Pub. G.W. Bromley and Co. From David Rumsey Historical Map Collection at davidrumsey.com

Cutter, William Richard and William Frederick Adams, eds. Genealogical and Personal Memoirs Relating to the Families of the State of Massachusetts, Volume 4. New York, 1910.

Daily National Republican. (Washington, D.C.), 12 Jan. 1863. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.

Douglass, Frederick. The Life and Times of Frederick Douglass. Re-published 1993, Avenal, New York: Gramercy Books, Library of Freedom series.

Douglass, Frederick. My Bondage and My Freedom: 1855 Edition with a new introduction. Re-published 1969, New York: Dover Publications, Inc.

Evening Star. (Washington, D.C.), 07 Feb. 1884. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.

Foner, Philip S. The Life and Writings of Frederick Douglass, Vol. 1-4. New York: International Publishers, 1950.

Frederick Douglass Chronology‘. From Frederick Douglass National Historic Site District of Columbia, National Park Service website

History of the Old State House Building‘. The Bostonian Society (website).

Hollis Street Church‘. (2016, March 23). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.

Hollis Street, Harvard Street. Boston 1819 and 1820 Street-Lines. Pub. 1819 by John Graves Hale, author unknown

McFeely, William. Frederick Douglass. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1991.

Tremont Temple. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.

Wendell Phillips‘. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.

What was the Boston Massacre?.’ John Adams Historical Society (website).

Happy Birthday, Thomas Jefferson!

In remembrance of Thomas Jefferson (April 13 1743 – July 4, 1826) on his birthday, here’s the story of my travels last year following his life and ideas

Amy M Cools's avatarOrdinary Philosophy

Hello, friends of Ordinary Philosophy!

From time to time, I take a trip to some corner of the globe, to explore the lives and ideas of great thinkers in the places where they lived and worked. For this series, I follow in the footsteps of thinkers who are no longer alive, since those who are still telling their own stories. But those who are no longer alive in the body live on in the ideas that they pass on, and in the example they provide for us to follow.

I’m pleased and excited to announce my third philosophical-historical themed adventure, this time in Washington DC, Philadelphia, and various sites in Virginia to follow in the footsteps of…. you may have guessed it… Thomas Jefferson!

Thomas Jefferson was born on April 13th, 1743, and in his long life, he accomplished more than most. He was a founding father of the United…

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Frederick Douglass, Easton and St. Michaels, Maryland’s Eastern Shore Sites Part 2

Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Easton, MD at South & Hanson Sts

Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Easton, MD at South & Hanson Sts

Second day, Monday March 21st, continued

When I left you last, I was telling you the story of finding Frederick Douglass’ birthplace, and how moving an experience it was for me…

After a short while, I pull myself back out of the reverie I’ve fallen into; I have lots of places to visit today, and must get a move on. I head back to downtown Easton and begin my tour here on Hanson Rd, between South Lane and South Street, where Bethel A.M.E. Church stands on the east side of the street. The congregation had first assembled in 1818, the year that Douglass was born. When Douglass returned to Easton in 1878, he dedicated this new church building; what a consecration!

Archaeology at Bethel A.M.E. sign, Easton, MA

Archaeology at Bethel A.M.E. Church sign, Easton, MA

A statue of Frederick Douglass outside of the Talbot County Courthouse in Easton, courtesy Preservation Maryland, Creative Commons

A statue of Frederick Douglass outside of the Talbot County Courthouse in Easton, courtesy Preservation Maryland, Creative Commons

When Douglass returned here in 1878 to rediscover his birthplace, he also visited central Easton and gave speeches, including a famous one in front of the courthouse at Federal and West Streets. There’s a very handsome statue of him there.

Unfortunately… I forget to visit the front of the courthouse and photograph it! Throughout this trip, I discover, or remember, that from time to time I miss something, and like today, something important or exciting. This especially happens when I’m distracted with the effort of finding obscure sites, like Douglass’s birthplace this morning. I wish I had more than two weeks for this tour so I don’t find myself so often in a rush! But I shake off my disappointment: I’m seeing so many wonderful things, and learning so much on this trip. And fortunately, there are so many others out there who share my admiration for Douglass, who follow and share his history too. I’m in their debt, and couldn’t do this trip without them. And after all, I was at the courthouse, just off to the side and around the back.

Here’s another great photo by one such person for you to check out, and a little more about the speech Douglass gave here on November 25th.

Sheriff's House and Jail in Easton, MD, c. 1881

Sheriff’s House and Jail in Easton, MD, c. 1881

After Bethel A.M.E., I head to a building that stands right behind the very courthouse I forget to photograph. In 1836, Douglass planned an escape with his friends while he was working at William Freeland’s farm. Their plans were discovered, likely reported by one of the early participants who let his fear overcome him. They were thrown in the Easton jail at this site, which he described as more roomy and comfortable than he expected a jail to be, but with heavy iron latticework covering the windows. He also described the ugly feeling of being inspected by slave traders, who would opportunistically arrive when slaves were imprisoned there in hopes of picking up new ‘wares’ that masters had found too troublesome. Those slave traders were looked down upon, even despised, though this was a slave society. It’s one of the more unfortunate foibles of human nature that people will despise those who do the very work they benefit from and even require, when they don’t want to dirty their own hands with it. But back to the Easton jail… the building which stands here today is the 1881 granite jail and Sheriff’s house that replaced the original, which had been built in 1710.

Frederick Douglass dedication sign on Highway 33 between Easton & St Michael's

Frederick Douglass dedication sign on Highway 33 between Easton & St Michaels

I leave Easton and head for St. Michaels.

On the way there, I first see a sign dedicating Highway 33 to Douglass. In 1877, 1878, and 1892, Douglass returned to the Easton and St. Michaels area. This is the main highway between them now; did he take this very road, I wonder? A little further down the road, St Michaels welcome sign includes the motto ‘The Town That Fooled the British’. I wonder what that refers to and I look it up. Here’s the story. It’s a good one.

Frederick Douglass sign, St. Michaels, MD

Frederick Douglass sign, St. Michaels, MD

I park at the municipal parking lot at the west end of town and find myself right by this sign. Perfect!

I stop in at the 1812 Bar and Grill right there at Talbot and Mill, have a chat with the nice lady who lets me to leave my phone with her to charge while I go on my tour. I’ll be back for an afternoon ale.

Dodson House, two views, site of 1877 Auld and Douglass reconciliation

Dodson House, two views, site of 1877 Auld and Douglass reconciliation

I start with a long red brick house on Cherry Street now called Dodson House and now a bed and breakfast, originally built in 1799 and expanded in 1872. The house’s given address is 200 Cherry St, though its long front faces onto Locust St.

You can see where the house was nearly doubled in size: the seam is clearly visible, with the dates of construction now helpfully marked on the front of the house. Douglass lived here when he was brought back from Baltimore at age 15. Thomas Auld, who owned Douglass (always feels creepy to refer to someone owning someone else), had a falling out with his brother Hugh for a time, and as punishment, took Douglass away from their service and back to the East Shore in 1833, for three years until they made up again. Douglass had become accustomed to a certain amount of personal freedom and plentiful food, both of which he was regularly deprived of back over here on the Eastern Shore, and Douglass did not keep his feelings of displeasure entirely secret. Over time, Auld became so upset at Douglass’ insubordination and evident lack of respect that he eventually sent him away for a year to suffer worse conditions, more on this shortly.

Dodson House, formerly the Auld House on Cherry St, Easton, MD

Dodson House, formerly the Auld House, on Cherry St, Easton, MD

Douglass also returned to this house for a visit many years later in 1877 to make peace with Thomas Auld, who was in failing health by the time. Auld had objected to Douglass’ characterization of him in his Narrative as a cruel and heartless man. Douglass originally thought his grandmother belonged to Auld after Colonel Lloyd’s death, and when she was abandoned to fend for herself in a shabby cabin when too old to work, he thought this indicative of bad character on Auld’s part. However, as Douglass acknowledged in this interview, in a public letter in 1849, and many times afterwards, he was mistaken: his grandmother was actually willed to another Anthony relative.

But, as Douglass pointed out, Auld only took her in to care for her after Douglass’ story subjected Auld to widespread criticism. This didn’t change the fact that slaves were routinely treated badly under the same system of slavery Auld took part in, especially given that many didn’t know or care to find out how their overseers or relatives treated them as long as the work got done and the money came in. But still, Douglass acknowledged that Auld wasn’t directly responsible in this case, that Auld and his family had treated their slaves much better in later years, and that it was the system itself that was ultimately responsible for his grandmother’s plight. The two men shook hands and reconciled, and Auld died soon after.

Old St Luke's Methodist Church in St Michael's, MD

Old St Luke’s Methodist Church in St Michaels, MD

Then I head east to the big St Luke’s United Methodist church on Talbot St. St Michaels’ walking tour map, published by St Michaels Museum, says the Auld family is buried here. I see a lot of the same names on gravestones in this cemetery, some of which appear also in the big Christ Church burial ground across the street: Caulks, Harrisons, Jeffersons, Dodsons, Jones’, and so forth. Search as I might, I can’t find any Auld grave markers. The doors of the church rectory are unlocked but there are no staff inside to answer my inquiries, and the electrician working there doesn’t think there’s a grave map available; he mentions he has a couple of friends buried there. I do find Bruffs, who were related to the Aulds; around here, you’ll see that name pop up a lot, including once again in this account.

Granite Lodge in St. Mary's Square, St Michaels, MD

Granite Lodge in St. Mary’s Square, St Michaels, MD

Then I head across the street and back around the next short block to St. Mary’s Square. I find Granite Lodge, a brick building which replaces an earlier structure that served as the first Methodist church in St Michaels. Douglass likely attended church here at least sometimes with the Auld family.

By the way, Easton and St Michaels are both adorable towns. I love that East Coast look, so different from my native California.

Mt Misery Rd sign and possible William Freeland's farm site, St Michaels MD

Mt Misery Rd sign and possible William Freeland’s farm site, St Michaels MD

A farm near what was formerly William Freeland's, St Michaels, MD

A farm near what was formerly William Freeland’s, St Michaels, MD

Then to Mount Pleasant Road via Railroad, southwest of St Michaels. I pass Mt Misery Rd, and take photos of some of the land around here which at one time was owned by William Freeland.

Douglass came here in January of 1834 to work for Freeland before he was sent back to Baltimore in late 1836. While Douglass thought Freeland by far the fairest and most lenient slaveowner he had ever known, the experience of even a modicum of decency in life actually made him more determined to be free, making him feel more keenly what he was missing. He made his first attempt to escape to the north in his second year there, which got him thrown into Easton jail in 1836 as discussed above. The escape attempt, at least in part, convinced Auld that Douglass would be better off in Baltimore after all, and more likely to stay put because he had been happier there. Besides, in the meantime, he had made up with his brother Hugh.

An old advertisement for the sale of Freeland’s land describes it as part farmland, part woods, as it is here today, and the description of the location and its proximity to these roads indicate it was right around here.

Entrance to Mt. Misery, formerly Edward Covey's farm, St Michaels MD

Entrance to Mt. Misery, formerly Edward Covey’s farm, St Michaels MD

Then back to Mt Misery Rd and turning west, I take it to where it bends sharply to the left, then pull over and park. Straight ahead of me is the drive to Mt. Misery, onetime slavebreaker Edward Covey’s farm. Unfortunately, it’s now private property; for many years, it was a bed and breakfast open to the public. Donald Rumsfeld bought this property for a vacation home in 2006, which was rather controversial. I’m not going to speculate on his motivations, since I have no way of knowing what he was thinking. I do hope that he decides, in a noble gesture and to improve or enhance his legacy, to donate it to the state, the National Park Service, or some other organization so that it can be open to the public once again. After all, it’s a historical site of great emotional significance to many.

Mt Misery Farmhouse from the driveway entrance

Mt Misery farmhouse from the driveway entrance

So especially being that it belongs to a wealthy and powerful political figure, I’m going to heed the ‘private drive’ sign and not go up to the house. I wouldn’t go up anyway, I do believe people have a right to privacy in their own home. Besides, getting arrested would get in the way of my trip, though I’m sure that’s unlikely, I still wouldn’t recommend taking the risk. There are many photos of the house online, and besides, my video camera has good zoom and takes photos, so at least we can get a peek.

Another view of Mt Misery farmhouse from the driveway entrance

Another view of Mt Misery farmhouse from the driveway entrance

As I mentioned earlier, Douglass’ attitude of evident displeasure and disrespect on his condition of life here on the East Shore, as compared to his relatively happy life in Baltimore, grated on Auld. In Baltimore he was well fed and clothed, he could improve his reading and writing skills (though on the sly), edify his piety (he had a religious awakening in his mid teens), and spend time with the neighborhood boys when his work was done. None of this was true for him back in St Michaels. Douglass was unhappy, and really let it show.

So, Auld sent Douglass away at the age of 16 to work at Covey’s for a year, to learn his lesson, so to speak. The work was hard, the conditions awful, and Douglass did begin to feel that his spirit was beginning to break. But, it never really did. One day, Douglass decided he could take no more, and refused to submit to another flogging. When Covey tried to physically subdue him, Douglass stood his ground. Though he was only about 16, Covey could not overcome Douglass’ wiry strength, made more so by the heavy manual labor he had been doing since leaving Baltimore. This was when, Douglass wrote, he became a man.

Unionville on Maryland's Eastern Shore, a settlement of black Union army veterans and freed black people

Unionville on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, a settlement of black Union army veterans and freed black people

On Highway 370 heading north to my next destination, my attention is caught by the historical marker sign for the small town of Unionville that I pass through. Douglass was very much involved with Abraham Lincoln’s decision to finally allow the Union Army to enlist black soldiers, more on this in upcoming accounts. Some of these veterans settled here; I hope they found good rest and a happy life in this pretty and peaceful place.

Gateway to Wye House of the former plantation of Colonel Lloyd, Easton MD

Gateway to Wye House of the former plantation of Colonel Lloyd at about 25780 Bruffs Island Rd, Easton MD

I arrive at the driveway to Wye Farm and then, just past it, the gates to Wye House of the erstwhile Colonel Lloyd’s plantation. Again, the drive is marked ‘private’, and I respect it. In my research, I’ve seen many articles that talk about educational tours of this house for school groups, scholars, and so on, but I’m not here long enough to make arrangements for this. Until just a few years ago, Wye House was owned by a philanthropist, historian and member of the Lloyd family who died in 2012. How this affects the ease of arranging a tour today I’m not sure. You see the house much more clearly here than you can in the zoom photo I take today.

Aaron Anthony, Douglass’ owner and possible father, it was rumored, was an overseer for Lloyd, who owned vast tracts of land and was very wealthy. Anthony’s own slaves often worked for Lloyd as well. Douglass was employed only very lightly here at the ‘Big House’, since he was sent to Baltimore when only about seven or eight. Child slaves were not sent out to do hard work until their bodies were considered mature enough to handle it, which I’m sure was a much younger age than we’d consider acceptable today.

Near the former site of the Baltimore Branch of the Freedman's Bank

Near the former site of the Baltimore Branch of the Freedman’s Bank

I head my way back to Baltimore from the East Shore, I swing by the area where the Baltimore Branch of the Freedmen’s Savings Bank used to be on 7th St. The wonderfully helpful Toni from the Mapping the Freedmen’s Bureau website found an old ad for the bank in response to my request for its location.

Cross streets near Baltimore's Freedman's Bank site

Cross streets near Baltimore’s Freedman’s Bank site

I find more than one 7th St in Baltimore, but neither seems to be in the right area since they would have been too far from 1870’s commercial areas. I do find another 7th street in an early map of Baltimore which no longer exists; it was off and to the north of Fort Ave, east of Covington. These are the two main streets that have remained where they are with the same names as they had in Douglass’ time. The closest street to the original, which appears to no longer be there since there are only two streets here where there used to be three differently placed ones, is narrow Belt St., just above Hyson and below E. Clement.

In March 1874, Douglass was named President of the Freedman’s Bank, headquartered on Pennsylvania Ave in Washington DC since 1867. The first branch opened here. It was a private bank chartered by the US government and supported by Lincoln, and it was supposed to help freed slaves and their families gain economic independence. For a while at least, it accomplished its mission very well. However, poor management and political and corporate corruption left it heavily in debt and on the verge of collapse. Despite his best efforts, Douglass could not save the bank, and from this experience, and learned just how corrupt the political and financial system of the United States had really become.

So ends my tour of the East Shore and last Baltimore site, an eventful, exciting, and long day of exploration. Stay tuned for my next adventure!

*Listen to the podcast version here or on iTunes

~ Ordinary Philosophy and its Traveling Philosophy / History of Ideas series is a labor of love and is ad-free, entirely supported by patrons and readers like you. Please offer your support today!

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Sources and Inspiration:

The American Farmer, Vol. IV‘. Agricultural journal published 1848 by Samuel Sands, Baltimore, MD.

Away From Home: Frederick Douglass Statue‘. Dec 20, 2014, InForum.com

Burgoyne, Mindie. ‘A Bike Ride to Mount Misery – Hello, Rummy!’ Travel Hag blogAway From Home: Frederick Douglass statue

Capt. Aaron Anthony (b. circa 1766 – d. 1826): Property Owner, Talbot County, Maryland‘. From Archives of Maryland (Biographical Series), msa.Maryland.gov

Easton, MD Walking Tour‘. From EastonMD.org

Eyeballing the Rumsfeld Maryland Residence‘ (photos) From Cryptome.org

Finseth, Ian. ‘Douglass and the Legacy of Mount MiseryBaltimore Sun, Aug 20, 2006

Fought, Leigh. ‘Obituary for Thomas Auld in the Baltimore Sun, Feb. 12, 1880‘. Douglass’ Women: In Progress blog

New National Era. (Washington, D.C.), Sept 28 1871. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.

Oliver, Elizabeth. ‘Misery, Thy Name is Rumsfeld’s Vacation Home: Race, power, and history come to a head at Rumsfeld’s historic vacation home’. Oct 26th, 2006 for Utne.com

VanGorder, Megan. ‘Frederick Douglass Narrative Tour‘ for Gilder Lehrman Institute’s Online Course – Amazing Grace: How Writers Helped End Slavery.

A Walking Tour of Historic St Michaels‘. From StMichaelsMuseum.org

Wye House‘. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.

Wye House owner, philanthropist and local historian dies at her home’. Jul 27, 2012, The Star Democrat