Then, with a sigh of deep satisfaction, Frederick Douglass went walking on down Russell Street. He turned into Drury Lane and half an hour later was rolling along Fulham Road.
Tavistock Square no longer claimed him as a lodger. When James Buffum returned to America and Douglass set out on his northern tour the attic rooms were given up. Upon his return to London he had been invited to make his home with friends in Chelsea where, in the rare periods between strenuous rounds, he could enjoy a haven from the noise and dirt of the city. He remembered that summer with pleasure—no fog, a mild sun, long walks over the Heath, across Albert Bridge and down by the river. Hours of undisturbed reading in a little arbor behind the cottage continually opened new vistas and broadened his understanding. More than the scars on his back, he deplored his lack of education. Now he seized every opportunity to learn.
Back in America the Mexican War was arousing people. The possibility of more slave states being added to the Union speeded up the Abolitionists. Word was rushed to the Anti-Slavery Society in England to enlist the people of Great Britain, to let the workers of Britain know how slavery in America threatened all their hard-bought gains, and perhaps get them to boycott slave-grown cotton.
Frederick Douglass rose to the need. Thousands packed into the Free Trade Hall in London to hear him; workers in Manchester and Birmingham learned how cotton was produced; merchants and dock hands rubbed shoulders at Concert Hall in Liverpool.
Frederick Douglass spoke to men and women in every walk of life. William Gladstone listened and learned from the black American. In Edinburgh he was entertained by George Combe, and the eminent philosopher listened as well as talked. Together they discussed the Corn Laws, reduction of hours of labor, and what black slavery was doing to the world. During this time Douglass was urged to remain in Europe. He was offered important posts in Ireland and in Scotland.
“Send for your family, Douglass!” they said. “There is work here for you to do.”
But he shook his head. In spite of all his activities, he was growing restless that winter. True, he was presenting the case of the slave to Britain. In a few months he had become famous; but within himself he felt that all this had only been a period of preparation. He was like an athlete who, trained to the pink of condition, was only going through preliminary skirmishes. For Frederick Douglass knew his real work lay ahead—in America.
They were still waiting for the final settlement with Captain Auld. He had asked one hundred and fifty pounds sterling for his slave. The money had been promptly sent.
Then, one morning, a letter reached Douglass in Darlington. It was from George Thompson.
“Your papers have arrived. Come down with us for two or three days before you go to Wales. There is so much to talk about and I know this means an early farewell.”