SHARING THE RESPONSIBILITIES AND HONORS OF FREEDOM
The course of events in the succeeding thirty years proved that
Frederick Douglass was wholly right in his determination not to take up
his residence in one of the Southern states for political purposes. Had
he followed the advice of some of his friends, his career would have
been considerably marred by the exigencies of party and sectional
politics, and his character as a natural leader of his people would, in
all probability, have shrunken to that of a state politician. He did the
wise thing, however, in changing his residence from Rochester to
Washington. This brought him in closer touch with his people, as well as
near to the law-making forces of the nation.
After he became settled in his new home, he soon found his heart and
hands full of occupations that tried his soul. He was fairly overwhelmed
with all kinds of schemes and propositions that were carried to him,
urging him to do this or that for the protection and elevation of the
race. It required a mind of more than ordinary shrewdness to
discriminate between the practical and impractical. Many of the Negroes
seemed to think him capable of performing miracles in the way of undoing
the effects of slavery. It required a stout spirit to listen unmoved to
the wail that came from the hearts of his sadly distracted people. Those
of us who are living forty years after the close of the war, can little
appreciate to what an extent the glory of emancipation was shadowed by
the miseries of a whole race suddenly set free with no preparation for
freedom. When one studies the history of the years that followed
emancipation, and learns of the many sins and errors of the time, and
the retribution that they brought upon the bewildered people in whose
name they were committed, it must seem strange that the Negro race could
survive and make the progress it has made. Through all the confusion and
clamor of wants, sorrows, sufferings and disappointments, Mr. Douglass
kept his head, and was at all times philosophical, certain that the good
accomplished was more important than the seeming failures; that the
hindrances to progress were transitory, the forces of progress
permanent. After he had settled in Washington, two things at once
engaged his attention: the publication of another paper, _The New
National Era_, and the Freedmen’s Bank.
There was apparently a pressing need for a national organ to advance the
cause of the Negro, and it was believed that the name of Frederick
Douglass at its head would surely bring it a wide circulation, as well
as a commanding influence. He took hold of the project with
characteristic vigor and invested a large amount of his savings in the
venture. With the assistance of his two sons, both practical printers,
the paper proved to be one of the greatest helps of the hour. Some of
Mr. Douglass’s best utterances are to be found in the _New Era_. Its
columns were open to the leading colored men and women of that time and
it exerted a wide and salutary influence. However, it failed of support.
The enterprise cost Mr. Douglass between nine and ten thousand dollars.
He seems to have anticipated its financial misfortunes, but said of it
afterward: “The journal was valuable, while it lasted, and the
experiment was to me full of instruction which has to some extent been
heeded, for I have kept well out of newspaper undertakings since, so I
have no tears to shed.”
When Mr. Douglass went to Washington, he found established there the
Freedmen’s Bank. It was chartered by Congress and was run and managed in
connection with the Freedmen’s Bureau. “It was,” as Mr. Douglass says,
“more than a bank. There was something missionary in its composition.”
Its managers were men of character and religion, and were interested in
everything that could point the way of true living to the ex-slave. To
teach the important lesson of thrift was its main object.
For a time this bank flourished very well. Branches were established in
various parts of the South. The poor freedmen in the bottom lands of
Mississippi and other isolated places quickly learned the use and
meaning of the institution; and eagerly and gratefully committed to its
keeping their small earnings. Thousands of these depositors first came
to know and realize their relationship to the government at Washington
through it. The owners of United States bonds did not feel more secure
than did these trusting new citizens of the republic.
The bank and its purposes appealed to Mr. Douglass. He felt it his duty
to do anything in his power to help the benevolent enterprise. It was
not long before he was elected one of its trustees. He accepted the post
and, as an earnest of his interest and confidence in it, placed several
thousand dollars in its keeping. He says: “It seemed fitting to cast in
my lot with my brother freedmen and help build up an institution which
represented the thrift and economy of my people to so striking an
advantage, for the more millions accumulated there, I thought, the more
consideration and respect would be shown to the colored people by the
whole country.”
At first he was not active in his new office. He seldom attended the
board meetings. The men in charge were of so high a character and had
brought the bank up to such rank that his faith in it was well-nigh
absolute. He was surprised when soon notified that he had been elected
president. Before assuming this post, in 1871, he asked for a statement
of the bank’s affairs, not because he was suspicious, but that he might
the more intelligently take hold of his new duties. He received
assurances from the officers that everything was in excellent condition
but he at once began a wholesale policy of retrenchment in the expenses
of management. From the showing made by those in a position to know and
to be believed, Mr. Douglass felt so confident that everything was as it
appeared to be that he loaned the bank $10,000 of his own money, until
it could realize on a part of its securities. Soon afterward several
things connected with the bank’s management excited his distrust. The
money loaned by him was not repaid so promptly as it should have been;
some of the trustees had removed their own deposits and opened accounts
with other banks; and the new president discovered that through
dishonest agents, heavy losses were sustained in the South; that there
was a discrepancy in the accounts amounting to about $40,000; that the
“reserve” which the bank by its charter was obliged to maintain was
entirely exhausted. All this Mr. Douglass learned after he had been
president for only three months. Being convinced that things were
rapidly going from bad to worse, he immediately reported the condition
of the bank to the Finance Committee of the United States Senate. The
trustees upon whose figures and reports Mr. Douglass relied for his
action, now tried to retract their statements and did their utmost to
stay the hand of the government, but the Senate committee accepted his
representations and immediately proceeded to bring the bank to the end
of its remarkable career.
Mr. Douglass did not take advantage of his private knowledge of its
insolvency to remove his $2,000 on deposit, as some trustees had done.
In this, as in other things, he acted with perfect openness and absolute
honesty. Nevertheless the bank’s troubles brought to him no end of
bitter criticism. The number of open accounts at the time of failure was
over 60,000 and the total amount deposited during the period of its
existence was about $57,000,000.
Bad management may truthfully be written on the face of this greatest
single setback to the Negro’s progress. Viewed in the light of the
condition of these people, striving by might and main to promote their
own interests, the failure of the Freedmen’s Bank was little less than a
crime. The mischief had all been done before Mr. Douglass took charge of
the institution. As he says: “Not a dollar of its millions was loaned by
me or with my approval. The fact is, and all investigation will show,
that I was married to a corpse. When I became connected with the bank I
had a tolerably fair name for honest dealing. I had expended in the
publication of my paper in Rochester thousands of dollars annually and
had often to depend upon my credit to bridge over immediate wants. But
no man here or elsewhere can say that I ever wronged him out of one
cent.”
This miserable failure distressed Mr. Douglass more than any other man
in the country, because he saw how wide-spread would be the loss of
confidence in him and in his people. The mere fact that his own
conscience was clear and that his prompt action prevented further losses
did not soften his disappointment. On the contrary, the subject
continued to be a source of public bitterness and suspicion for many
years, but he was large enough to grow out of and beyond any evil
effects arising from it, so far as his own standing and reputation were
concerned.
Important as was the Freedmen’s Bank, both as a success and as a
failure, it was but a small part of the many evidences that the black
race was everywhere awake to the fact that it was living in a new era.
The transformation of the Negro’s status from that of a quasi-denizen to
that of a full-fledged citizen of America was a revolution of
far-reaching import, but it was accompanied by little demonstration. The
only proof that a great change had been brought about was the eagerness
with which the colored people attempted to realize all the benefits
belonging to full citizenship. Up to this time, of course, they had
never had any part in politics, but it did not take them long to learn
the game. Educated Negroes and those who had but little education, very
quickly mastered its tricks and made the most of their opportunities. In
every Southern state colored men were easily elected to the state
legislatures and to other high offices.
In Louisiana, Oscar J. Dunn, P. B. S. Pinchback, and C. C. Antoine; in
South Carolina, Alonzo J. Ransier and Robert H. Gleaves; and in
Mississippi, Alexander Davis, were elected Lieutenant-Governors. Colored
men were also chosen for important county and town offices;—there were
Negro sheriffs, county clerks, justices of the peace. To this period
also belongs the election of the only two colored men ever given seats
in the United States Senate, Hiram R. Revels and Blanche K. Bruce, of
Mississippi. In the lower house of Congress, nearly every state in the
South was represented by Negroes. In addition to these elective offices
of honor and distinction, a large number of the leaders of the race held
appointive Federal offices, as postmasters, and as collectors of customs
and internal revenue, and for the first time in the history of the
United States, colored men were appointed to diplomatic positions.
In recent years, students and writers of the Reconstruction period, have
indulged in a good deal of unmerited abuse of the colored men who, for a
brief season, and without previous training, under the leadership of
white politicians, held political posts. It is a deplorable fact that
too many inferior persons were elected to fill important state and
county offices in the reconstructed states. It is quite true that the
colored citizen voted for unfit men of his own race because there was no
one else to vote for. This same freedman would more willingly have used
his franchise for a white man of character and ability, if he had had
the opportunity. The fact is that democracy does not stand still for
want of fit men, whether in the Bowery district in New York or in the
Black Belt of South Carolina. The Negroes who were elected to Congress,
however, were, with but few exceptions, men of character and superior
intelligence. B. K. Bruce of Mississippi, John R. Lynch, Robert Brown
Elliot, A. J. Ransier, and Robert Smalls were highly creditable
representatives of a race that had just emerged from the night of
slavery. In fact, it is surprising that there were any colored men in
the South who had enough spirit and intelligence even to aspire to the
things that but yesterday were beyond their reach. It is also worthy of
note that among the Negroes holding positions of dignity and trust,
there were only a few cases in which that trust was knowingly betrayed.
The eagerness with which colored men, of any ability at all, sought
public posts was largely due to the fact that there were few places open
to honorable ambitions, outside of public office, to which they could
aspire. Not many at that time had any training for school-teaching or
the professions. Politics was the one door that opened most widely to
Negroes of ability. The people at large seemed to enjoy the novelty of
seeing these new citizens of the country so quickly take their places in
the civil service of the government, and wear whatever honors they could
win. The same sentiment that forced the Fourteenth and Fifteenth
Amendments into the Constitution of the United States, was gratified
when educated and eloquent ex-slaves took their seats in both branches
of Congress.
While it lasted, this was all very pleasing, hopeful, and interesting,
but a reaction was bound to come. The constituency behind these
representative leaders lacked the necessary intelligence, knowledge, and
business experience. By such an electorate men may be chosen to power,
but they cannot long be held in power.
It was an unfortunate thing, too, that the freedmen learned their first
lessons in politics when public morals were at so low an ebb. Many sins
were committed and tolerated in the interest of party success. Many
desperate men in a spirit at once predatory and partisan, invaded the
South and attempted to instruct the colored people in ways that were
dark, but ways that led to party victory. These men were bad models for
a learning race to follow. Although it was unreasonable to expect these
newly emancipated people to be superior to their white leaders, yet, by
recent writers, they have been held accountable for whatever sins were
committed in this office-holding era.
Mr. Douglass, in the midst of the political prosperity of his race, was
not misled as to the outcome. No one saw more clearly than he the
uncertainty of the position to which it had been elevated by recent
events. While it is true he was at no time a political power in the
South, the colored men who came into office looked to him for counsel
and advice. He rejoiced in the many evidences of personal worth and
talent displayed by Negroes who, for the first time in American history,
were having some real part in the government of the country. Yet
experience made him feel and declare that, after all, “the true basis of
rights is the capacity of the individual.” He urgently pleaded that the
government should give the freedman education that he might have
knowledge to use his suffrage in such a manner as to preserve his own
liberty, and contribute to the public welfare.
Mr. Douglass enjoyed a full share of the honors and responsibilities of
office-holding. In each succeeding administration after the war, posts
and places came to him almost as a matter of course, because of his
prominence as a representative of the enfranchised race. During the
administration of President Grant, he was appointed one of the
councilmen of the District of Columbia, and afterward was elected a
member of the legislature of the District. He soon resigned the last
position to accept the secretaryship of the commission appointed by
Grant to visit San Domingo for the purpose of negotiating a treaty for
the annexation of that island to the United States. The commission was
composed of Senator B. F. Wade, Dr. S. G. Howe, and Andrew D. White,
President of Cornell University. The country was somewhat startled by
the innovation of placing a colored man in a position to represent the
government on so important a mission. Its purpose failed. Opposition on
the part of Senator Sumner and other influential Republicans was of the
most bitter and uncompromising sort.
The political feud that arose from General Grant’s San Domingan policy
carried many men out of the Republican party. Mr. Douglass was placed in
an awkward position in accepting the appointment, because his great
friend, Senator Sumner, was the leader of the opposition to the
President’s plan of annexation. He admired and was personally attached
to both because of their heroic services in the cause of freedom and
citizenship for his people. Explaining his attitude, he said: “I am free
to say that, had I been guided only by the promptings of my heart, I
should, in this controversy, have followed Charles Sumner. He was not
only the most clear-sighted, brave, and uncompromising friend of my race
who had ever stood upon the floor of the Senate, but he was to me a
loved, honored, and precious personal friend.”
After Senator Sumner had arraigned President Grant in a notable speech
in the Senate, Mr. Douglass happened to be a caller at the White House
and was asked by the President what he now thought of his friend from
Massachusetts. True to his feelings, Douglass frankly replied that, in
his opinion, the Senator was sincere in his position, believing that in
opposing annexation he defended the cause of the colored race, as he had
always done. “I saw that my reply was not satisfactory,” Douglass
observes, “and I said, ‘What do you think, Mr. President, of Senator
Sumner?’ He replied with some feeling, ‘I think he is mad.’”
By his perfect frankness, Mr. Douglass was able to retain the respect
and confidence of both men. He agreed with President Grant in his
annexation policy and had, at the same time, a special fondness for the
Massachusetts Senator. He frequently dined with the latter and they were
often seen walking arm in arm in the corridors of the Capitol, while
Douglass embraced every opportunity to sound the praises of his friend.
In an address delivered at New Orleans before a convention of colored
men, during this Grant-Sumner feud, he said: “There is now at Washington
a man who represents the future and is a majority in himself,—a man at
whose feet Grant learns wisdom. That man is Charles Sumner. I know them
both; they are great men, but Sumner is as steady as the north star; he
is no flickering light. For twenty-five years he has worked for the
Republican party and I hope I may cease forever, if I cease to give all
honor to Charles Sumner.” And later he said: “As a man of integrity and
truth, Charles Sumner was high above suspicion, and not all the Grants
in Christendom will rob him of his well-earned character.”
Notwithstanding his repeatedly declared loyalty to the Senator, Mr.
Douglass was found in the ranks doing valiant service for the reëlection
of General Grant for a second term. His coöperation was needed in some
quarters, because the colored voters were not a little confused when
such stalwart friends as Sumner, Senator Trumbull, of Illinois; Carl
Schurz, of Missouri; and Horace Greeley, of New York, were found in the
“camp of the enemy,” fighting the Republican party. The National
Convention of Colored Men, held in New Orleans in April, 1872, affords
an interesting example of how puzzling was the split in the Republican
organization to the average Negro voter. This was a very large and
representative body. The members were in a state of grave apprehension,
on account of the division in the ranks of the black man’s party. Many
of the leading delegates in attendance were uncertain to whom their
allegiance should be given. It was difficult for a colored man in those
days not to be with Sumner, right or wrong.
It was here that Mr. Douglass demonstrated his power as a political
leader. His speech as president of the convention was a notable effort.
It was telegraphed in full to the New York _Herald_, and throughout the
country it was widely circulated and read, as a campaign document. It
did more than any other one thing to hold the colored people in party
lines. In addition to this, Douglass took an active part in the ensuing
struggle, and no orator in the Grant-Greeley contest was more popular
than he. To the black voter, who wanted to follow the Liberal
Republicans led by Senator Sumner, he urged that there was “no path out
of the Republican party that did not lead directly into the camp of the
Democratic party—away from our friends, directly to our enemies.” It was
in this campaign, too, that he made use of the well-known party
aphorism, “The Republican party is the ship, and all else is the sea.”
What was more important and interesting than any other thing in this
contest, so far as Mr. Douglass was concerned, was the singular
recognition shown him by the Republicans of New York, who placed his
name on the ticket as one of the electors of that state. No other
colored man in the history of the country had ever been so honored. When
the electoral college met in Albany, he was commissioned to carry the
New York vote to the capital of the nation.
Though he had done valiant service for the reëlection of General Grant,
Mr. Douglass neither asked nor received any reward in the form of an
office. At that time there were but few honors in the gift of the
President that could be considered within the reach of a colored man.
The one diplomatic post which he could have obtained for the asking—as
minister to Hayti—he made no effort to get, but generously supported his
friend E. D. Bassett, of Philadelphia, for it. Mr. Bassett was a man of
fine attainments and exceptionally well qualified for the office. This
act of deference to the claims of others was characteristic of Mr.
Douglass in all of his relationships to the prominent Negroes of his
generation.
In 1877, and after the election and inauguration of President Hayes, the
whole country was more or less startled by the announcement that
Frederick Douglass had been appointed Marshal of the District of
Columbia. This office was one of much political and social
responsibility, and the appointment of an ex-slave produced a sensation
in Washington. As Mr. Douglass says, “It came upon the people of the
District as a great surprise and almost a punishment, and provoked
something like a scream, I will not say a yell, of popular displeasure.”
This was not an exaggerated statement of the public feeling directed
against the appointment. Plans were set on foot to secure the defeat of
his nomination in the United States Senate. It seemed impossible for the
people at the capital to view the President’s action in any other way
than as the degradation of an exalted office. They were sure that Mr.
Douglass would use his place to “Africanize the District courts”; and
the great social functions of the White House, with a Negro as “Lord
High Chamberlain,” would become the laughing-stock of the enlightened
world.
If Mr. Douglass had been a man of less tact and intelligence, and had
not occupied so high a place in popular esteem, he could not have
withstood the strength and bitterness of the opposition. His good
standing, in spite of his color, saved him and the Hayes administration
from a humiliating surrender to popular prejudice. When his name reached
the Senate, it was confirmed without serious discussion. Senator
Conkling had charge of the matter, and swept away all opposition in a
perfect storm of eloquent ridicule of the reasons presented for
rejection. Unfortunately, the Senate’s action did not wholly end the
agitation. Every word and act of Mr. Douglass’s was scrutinized for some
proof of his unfitness. Shortly after the confirmation of his
appointment, he delivered an address in the city of Baltimore, taking as
his theme “Our National Capital.” It was an interesting mixture of
praise and criticism, though in no way the result of recent occurrences,
for he had delivered the same speech in Washington some months before
and it provoked no discussion. He was, therefore, greatly surprised to
find, when he returned to the capital, that the old animosity which had
spent itself in attempting to defeat his appointment, was again aroused.
The objectionable portions of his Baltimore lecture were quoted and
commented upon in terms of unqualified bitterness. An effort was made to
induce the sureties on his bond to withdraw, and in this way disqualify
him to act in his official capacity. Strong pressure was brought to bear
on the President to relieve the capital of the nation of the
insufferable offense of an official who had so little sense of the
proprieties as to hold up Washington and its citizens to public
ridicule. All this, however, proved to be of no effect. His bondsmen,
one of whom was a wealthy and prominent Democrat of the District, could
not be persuaded to embarrass the Negro marshal by withdrawing their
names. Hayes was likewise firm in resisting all efforts to remove Mr.
Douglass, who refers gratefully to the President as follows: “When all
Washington was in an uproar, and a wild clamor rent the air for my
removal from the office of marshal, on account of the lecture delivered
by me in Baltimore, and when petitions were flowing in upon him
demanding my degradation, he nobly rebuked the mad spirit of persecution
by openly declaring his purpose to retain me in my place.”
Douglass’s successful fight in retaining his position of honor was
interesting, not so much because of his personal standing, as because it
was typical of the whole struggle of his race, since emancipation, to
win their way into the confidences of the American people by proving
themselves capable of using their liberty and their citizenship in a
proper manner.
If Mr. Douglass had been sacrificed to the demands of popular prejudice,
it would have served as a disqualifying precedent in the matter of
future opportunities of colored men with honorable ambitions. In a short
while, all opposition was quieted, and the new marshal pursued the
routine of his duties without hindrance or serious embarrassment. The
judges and attorneys of the District soon learned to treat the Negro
official with respect and courtesy. None of the awful things predicted
came to pass, and the powers that stood behind him and were responsible
for him were wholly vindicated.
During the trying ordeal from which he had so successfully emerged, Mr.
Douglass complained somewhat petulantly that “no colored man in the city
uttered one public word in defense or extenuation of me or my Baltimore
speech, except Dr. Charles B. Purvis.” He was always sensitive to the
least evidence of opposition or slight on the part of his own people.
For a man who had done so much for his race at a time when it was unable
to do anything for itself, it was, perhaps, quite natural for him to
feel as he did, now that so many voices were lifted against him.
Whatever hostility or indifference the colored people in the District
exhibited toward Mr. Douglass, was probably due to jealousy of his
leadership and a professed chagrin on account of the alleged willingness
on his part to accept the office with the abridgment of the social
privileges enjoyed by previous marshals.
His answer to these complaints was such as to satisfy any reasonable
person that it meant no surrender of principle. All the functions that
legally belonged to his office he performed. The ornamental duties that
had grown up by custom and usage, he willingly left to others. He had
enjoyed more social opportunities than any colored man in the country
and he possessed infinite tact and a fine sense of discrimination as to
rights and privileges. Frequently while he was marshal, he was called
upon to introduce distinguished strangers to the President. He said: “I
was ever a welcome visitor at the Executive Mansion on state occasions
and on all others while Rutherford B. Hayes was President of the United
States.”
As time passed, his own people, as well as other men in Washington, came
to admire Douglass’s good sense as well as his fine bearing on all
occasions. The proudest event in his official life was associated with
the inauguration of General James A. Garfield as President of the United
States. The Marshal of the District of Columbia was called upon to act
an important part in the greatest of all national ceremonies. He was
brought into touch with the retiring as well as the incoming President.
He had the honor of escorting them both from the chamber of the United
States Senate to the east front of the Capitol where the oath of office
was to be taken by President Garfield and where he delivered his
inaugural address to a vast concourse of people.
In speaking of that experience, Douglass says with pardonable pride:
“I felt myself standing on new ground, on a height never before trodden
by any of my people, one heretofore occupied only by members of the
Caucasian race.... I deemed the event highly important as a new
circumstance in my career, as a new recognition of my class, and as a
new step in the progress of the nation. Personally, it was a striking
contrast to my early condition. Yonder I was an unlettered slave,
toiling under the ‘Negro breaker’; here I was the United States Marshal
of the capital of the nation, having under my care and guidance the
sacred persons of an ex-President and the President-elect of a nation of
sixty millions of people, and was armed with a nation’s power to arrest
any arm raised against them. While I was not insensible or indifferent
to the fact that I was treading the high places of the land, I was not
conscious of any unsteadiness of head or heart. I was a United States
Marshal by accident. I was no less Frederick Douglass, identified with a
proscribed class, whose perfect and practical equality with other
American citizens, was yet far down the steps of time. Yet I was not
sorry to have this brief authority for I rejoiced in the fact that a
colored man could occupy this height and that the precedent was
valuable.”
Thus it was that Mr. Douglass esteemed every honor or favor earned and
received by him, to mean some fresh recognition of the worth of the
Negro race. He sustained a very close and cordial relationship to Mr.
Garfield. He had done effective service in the campaign that resulted in
the election of the new President, whose fine abilities and robust
Americanism he greatly admired. Shortly after the inauguration, Mr.
Douglass was summoned to the White House. Garfield wished to discuss
with this acknowledged leader of the Negro race his policy in reference
to appointments of colored men to office. He assured Mr. Douglass of his
intention to place capable colored men in a higher grade of positions in
the diplomatic service, and he asked if, in Douglass’s opinion, nations
composed of white people would object to receiving colored men as
representatives of the American government. He also assured Douglass
that Senator Conkling’s wish for his (Douglass’s) reappointment as
Marshal of the District of Columbia would be granted with pleasure. The
Negro leader found the position thoroughly congenial to him, and it was
a matter of satisfaction to realize that he had so successfully lived
down past objections that no one now raised a voice against him. But for
reasons that were never divulged to him, he was displaced, and another
was appointed to the post.
Though he was keenly disappointed and chagrined, Douglass believed in
Mr. Garfield and was not inclined to censure him because of his broken
promise. He had strong faith that the President was about to carry out a
policy of recognition of the colored race which would be more liberal
than that of any of his predecessors. He felt that the colored people at
this time needed a firm friend. He clearly saw that his race in respect
to its rights of citizenship was slipping back from the high position
occupied by it ten years prior to this time. He feared that the reaction
which began to set in after the withdrawal of Federal troops from the
South in 1876 would carry his people to something like political serfdom
unless some strong hand would come to their aid.
The assurances now given to him by President Garfield that the Negro and
his cause would receive fair and honest treatment relieved his anxiety
despite his own displacement, and he confidently expected that the
administration of General Garfield would mean much to Negro progress in
all directions.
Alas for human hopes! Before the big-hearted man could put his good
intentions into effect, the assassin had done his evil work. Mr.
Douglass, like every one else close to the President, was overwhelmed
with grief. He said: “Few men in this country felt more keenly than I
the shock created by the assassination of President Garfield and few men
had better reason for this feeling.”
When Vice-President Arthur succeeded to the presidency, Mr. Douglass was
appointed Recorder of Deeds of the District of Columbia. This was a
lucrative office and a good deal of patronage was attached to it. Being
the first colored man to be appointed to the post, he had to face the
opposition that usually attaches to an innovation; but the objections
were not of a serious nature and soon subsided.
He continued in this place for five years. When Mr. Cleveland came to
the presidency he rather expected to be removed summarily; but the
Democratic chief magistrate proved to be less of a party man than either
the Recorder or the average Republican expected. The new President was
too high-minded to be a mere partisan, and to Mr. Douglass’s surprise,
he was treated with much respect and kindness. He and his wife were
invited to all public functions given at the White House and Mr.
Cleveland in every way showed that he shared the public esteem in which
the great Negro was so universally held. He was allowed to occupy the
position for quite a year under the Democratic administration. Then
instead of removing or asking for his resignation in the usually abrupt
way, the President graciously wrote to know when it would be convenient
for him to give up the post.
Mr. Cleveland further indicated his kindly regard for the colored people
of the country by promising them that his election would not mean a
curtailment of their liberties, as some of them feared. For this
assurance Mr. Douglass made public acknowledgment. The statements of the
President were timely and quieting, because for the first time in twenty
years, the more ignorant of the Negroes were somewhat panic-stricken.
Speaking of their fears, Douglass testified “to the painful apprehension
and distress felt by my people in the South from the return to power of
the old Democratic and slavery party. To many of them, it seemed that
they were left naked to their enemies, in fact, lost; that Mr.
Cleveland’s election meant the revival of the slave-power and that they
would now again be reduced to slavery and the lash. The misery brought
to the South by this wide-spread alarm can hardly be described or
measured. The wail of despair for a time from the late bondsmen was
deep, bitter and heart-rending.... It was well for the poor people in
this condition that Mr. Cleveland himself sent word South to allay their
fear and remove their agony.”
Mr. Douglass always cherished a very sincere admiration for President
Cleveland, for this and other reasons, and regarded it as highly
fortunate that a man so just and non-partisan should be elected as the
first Democratic President after emancipation. As a result of his fair
treatment, the American Negroes first learned that the term Democratic
did not necessarily mean for them loss of rights and citizenship. In
fact, his liberal policy caused a great many of the more intelligent
colored men very seriously to consider the advisability of a division of
the Negro vote between the two great parties. Men of the high standing
of Archibald H. Grimké, of Boston, Mass., and W. M. E. Matthews, of New
York, argued with great plausibility that one way to convince the
American people of his qualifications for citizenship, would be for the
Negro to learn to vote for principles rather than for party leaders.
They insisted that to take the pith out of the Democratic opposition to
his appearance in politics, a goodly portion of the voters should join
themselves to that party. It was unfortunate that this tendency to
political independence on the part of the enlightened colored men could
not have been encouraged. However natural and human it may be for the
Negro people to be allied wholly to one of two political parties, it is
nevertheless a serious hindrance to the colored man’s political freedom
that he must continue to regard the Republican party as composed wholly
of his friends and the Democratic party as composed wholly of his
enemies. Mr. Douglass openly confessed his inability to take this new
stand in politics, notwithstanding his admiration for Mr. Cleveland and
his respect for the motives of the few colored men in the country who
were independent enough to break away from party control. Though he
personally could not join the movement he regarded it as a sign of
progress for colored men of character and intellect to say that they
cared more for their race than for party, and more for their country
than for their race.
The last public office held by Mr. Douglass under the United States
government was that of Minister Resident and Consul General to the
Republic of Hayti. This seemed a fitting climax to the long list of
honors that came to him, not so much as a reward of party service as for
his own high deserving. The appointment was made by President Harrison
and was wholly unsought. Douglass had, of course, and as usual, taken an
active part in the campaign of 1888. The tariff was the main subject of
contention and it was more than hinted to him that he was expected to
make the most of this issue. He nevertheless had his own way, and
everywhere he insisted that the paramount issue was the rights of men.
On the stump he was as popular as ever; on all sides he found the people
deeply interested in his fervent pleas for justice to his race. Speaking
of his efforts in the last political campaign in which he took a
prominent part, he said: “I held that the soul of the nation was in this
question and that the gain of all the gold in the world would not
compensate for the loss of the national soul. National honor is the soul
of the nation and when this is lost all is lost.... As with an
individual, so with a nation. There is a time when it may be properly
asked, What does it profit a nation to gain the whole world and lose its
own soul?”
In accepting the honor of representing this country in Hayti Frederick
Douglass was about to realize a long cherished wish,—an opportunity to
see and study the only republic established and carried on by black men
in the Western world. In some respects his appointment at another time
would have been more agreeable. Very much to his surprise and chagrin,
and for causes of which he was wholly innocent, it was bitterly opposed.
Antagonism to him came almost wholly from the East and was confined to
interests that were bent upon obtaining valuable concessions from Hayti.
Certain New York newspapers tried to make it appear that he was unfitted
for the place, and insisted that the people wanted a white man to
represent the United States, although every representative from this
government to Hayti since 1869 had been a colored man. It was also urged
that Douglass would not be well received, because at one time he favored
the annexation of San Domingo.
Even after his appointment was confirmed by the United States Senate,
the opposition still pursued him. For example, it was said that the
captain of the ship designated by the government to convey the new
minister to Port-au-Prince, refused to take him on board because of his
complexion; that after he arrived at the capital of Hayti he was snubbed
by the officials for the same reason; and that it was found he had not
been duly accredited.
In these statements there was scarcely a grain of truth. There was no
insult to Mr. Douglass by the captain of the boat; there was no lack of
cordiality and respect on the part of the Haytians on account of his
color; and there was no embarrassment of any kind to warrant the
peculiar and insistent opposition that followed him from the moment his
appointment was announced. There were two issues of commanding interest
at this time which made the position of our Minister to Port-au-Prince a
trying one. First in importance was a desire on the part of the United
States to secure by treaty, Môle St. Nicolas as a naval station; and,
second, a desperate determination by the Clyde Steamship Company to
obtain from the Haytian government a subsidy of a half-million dollars
to ply a line of steamers between New York and Hayti.
As an evidence of the mean spirit of Mr. Douglass’s enemies, he was
grossly misrepresented as being the cause of the failure of the United
States to obtain the Môle. The great perversion of the real facts
surrounding the diplomatic efforts on the part of the government to
procure from Hayti the use of this port, led Mr. Douglass to publish in
the _North American Review_ for September and October, 1891, a full
history of his connection with the affair. In this interesting account
of the negotiations carried on during his official residence in Hayti,
it will be seen that he was in no way responsible for the result. In the
first place, he was not vested with authority to arrange with Hayti for
a United States naval station. He had been there as a representative of
this government over one year before the matter was taken up. When the
United States got ready to negotiate a treaty, the subject was entrusted
wholly to a special agent in the person of Rear-Admiral Gherardi. Mr.
Douglass’s only instructions were to coöperate with and assist the
Admiral in every possible way. The news of the appointment of a special
commissioner by the United States government was viewed by Mr. Douglass
as “sudden and far from flattering.” It placed him in an unenviable
light, both before the community of Port-au-Prince and the government of
Hayti, and made his position very humble, secondary, and subordinate. He
said: “The situation suggested the resignation of my office as due to my
honor, but reflection soon convinced me that such a course would subject
me to misconstruction more hurtful than any which, in the circumstances,
could justly arise from remaining at my post.”
He cordially and energetically assisted Admiral Gherardi. He secured
audiences with the President and the Minister of Foreign Affairs of
Hayti, and did not allow anything like offended dignity to diminish his
zeal and alacrity in carrying out his instructions.
In the conference, Mr. Douglass supplemented the arguments of the
commissioner in an earnest appeal in behalf of the United States. He
urged that the concession asked for by his government, “was in line with
good neighborhood, and advanced civilization, and in every way
consistent with Haytian autonomy; that such a concession would be a
source of strength to Hayti; that national isolation was a worn-out
policy, and that the true policy of Hayti ought to be to touch the world
at all points that make for civilization and commerce.”
All arguments, however, failed to overcome the deep-seated suspicion of
the Haytian people of any proposition to yield even one inch of their
national dominion. While in Mr. Douglass’s opinion, the negotiations
were ill-timed, being prejudiced by the previous demands of the agents
of the Clyde Company, and by the apparent threat in the presence of a
part of the United States Navy in the Haytian harbor, he yet gave it as
his deliberate opinion that no earthly power outside of absolute force
could have obtained for the American government a naval station at Môle
St. Nicolas.
He also found that Hayti was somewhat suspicious of the United States on
account of the national prejudice against the color of its citizens.
While loyal to his own government, Mr. Douglass scarcely blamed them for
this feeling. He believed in the future of the little republic, and
said: “Whatever may happen of peace or war, Hayti will remain in the
firmament of nations and like the north star will shine on, and shine
forever.”