“Let some of the niggers go,” he said. “Then take over a lot of apprentices—whites and blacks. Work them at top speed under good supervision. You’ll pull through.”
The older man frowned, pulling at his stubby mustache.
“Oh, come now.” Mr. Auld clapped his friend on the back. “I’ve got several good boys I can let you have.”
Frederick was one of the apprentices sent to the Fells Point shipyard. He had worked hard and under very good instruction. But when he arrived at Gardiner’s yard he found himself in a very different situation.
Here everything was hurry and drive. His section had about a hundred men; of these, seventy or eighty were regular carpenters—privileged men. There was no time for a raw hand to learn anything. Frederick was directed to do whatever the carpenters told him. This placed him at the beck and call of about seventy-five men. He was to regard all of them as his masters. He was called a dozen ways in the space of a single minute. He needed a dozen pairs of hands.
“Boy, come help me cant this here timber.”
“Boy, bring that roller here!”
“Hold on the end of this fall.”
“Hullo, nigger! Come turn this grindstone.”
“Run bring me a cold chisel!”