They drew back then, and let him pass in silence. Frederick Douglass followed him with his eyes. There was something painful in the defiant swagger. As he disappeared Frederick caught his breath sharply. He felt a hurt in his chest.
“I’m sorry for that man,” he said, in a heavy tone.
“Why?” asked Garrison coolly. “He would spit upon you!”
Frederick shook his head. “Let’s go in.” Suddenly, he was very tired.
Inside he forgot his singular depression when, from the throne of England, Queen Victoria declared the session of Parliament open. She was only thirty-one years old at that time, not beautiful perhaps, but a radiantly happy woman. Prince Albert was at her side. She was adored by her people. None of their hardships were laid at her door. Now she felt that a crisis had been successfully averted. Her voice rang with confidence and pride as she addressed her trusted Prime Minister.
And all the Lords and Ministers of the realm bowed low. The royal couple took their leave, and the business of running an empire was resumed. Every eye turned toward Robert Peel.
The Prime Minister rose, very pale, and began to state his case. He had the facts. Step by step, he unfolded his plan for combating the economic stalemate: cheap raw materials for the manufacturer, no protection against fair foreign competition, cheaper seed for the farmer, the open door for foreign meat and corn; for all, cheaper living.
No longer was his face cold and remote. The fires of deep conviction glowed in his eyes, and there was passion in his final declaration of independence.
“I will not, sirs,” he concluded, “undertake to direct the course of the vessel by observations which have been taken in 1842.” His words rang. “I do not wish to be Minister of England, but while I have the high honor of holding that office, I am determined to hold it by no servile tenure. I will only hold that office upon the condition of being unshackled by any other obligation than those of consulting the public interests, and of providing for the public safety.”
He bowed and took his seat. Douglass wet his dry lips. What did the heavy silence mean? He wanted to blister his hands with applause. Garrison laid his hand on the younger man’s arm.