“I wish I could have read this to President Johnson today. No words of mine can equal it.”
“President Johnson was already incensed by Senator Sumner’s words,” Cardoza reminded him.
Douglass was silent for a moment. Then he spoke slowly.
“I want to be fair to President Johnson. In criticizing our friend Charles Sumner he said, ‘I do not like to be arraigned by someone who can get up handsomely-rounded periods and deal in rhetoric and talk about abstract ideas of liberty, who never periled life, liberty, or property.’” Douglass tapped the closely written sheets. “Well, here are men who even now are imperiling life, liberty and property. Perhaps he would have listened.”
“When he spoke to the Negroes of Nashville before his election, Johnson expressed his eagerness to be another Moses who would lead the black peoples from bondage to freedom.” Cardoza had been in Nashville a short time before.
“Notice that even then he said he would do the leading.” There was bitterness in Douglass’ voice. “Apparently he’s not willing for the black man to stand up and walk to freedom on his two feet.”
Washington was emerging from the enveloping darkness when Francis Cardoza took his leave.
As he walked through the silent, gray street past the Representatives Office Building he saw a light faintly showing through one of the windows. He murmured his thought aloud.
“We’re beating a nation out upon the anvil of time. The fires must be kept hot!”