Amelia and Mrs. Royall did not make the trip north. Amelia’s disappointment was tempered because she knew Frederick Douglass was somewhere out West. Jack Haley laughed and said that was the reason the old lady did not go. But Anne Royall said no newspaper woman could leave Washington when news was fairly bristling in the air.
That last was true. Had not the South fought and paid for the gold fields of California? Now the scratch of President Polk’s pen as he signed the treaty with Mexico reverberated through the halls of Congress. Tempers were short.
“And manners have been tossed out the window,” said Anne Royall.
Then Jefferson Davis was sent up from Mississippi. Mrs. Royall was immediately intrigued by the tall, handsome war hero.
“Careful, Mrs. Royall!” warned Jack Haley, shaking his finger.
“Attend your own affairs, young man,” snapped the old lady. “Jefferson Davis brings charm into this nest of cawing crows!”
Foreign consulates were rocking, too. Ambassadors dared not talk. For this was a year of change—kings being overthrown; Garibaldi, Mazzini, Kossuth emerging as heroes. Freedom had become an explosive word—to be handled with care. They smashed the windows of the National Era office and talked of running Gamaliel Bailey out of town. But it was difficult to call out a mob within sight of the Capitol building. And Gamaliel Bailey—facing his critics with that dazzling, supercilious, knowing smile of his—sent them away gnashing their teeth but helpless.
The time had come for action. Oratory was not enough. Convictions, however sound and pure, were not enough. Time was running out.
Frederick Douglass wrote a letter to John Brown in Springfield, Massachusetts. Douglass told the wool merchant of his recent visit with Gerrit Smith.