"WHEN THE REPUBLICAN PARTY loses ' Fred' Douglass' voice, it will be a heavy loss." Marshall Jewel, writing in the name of the Republican National Committee, was worried not about the orator's loyalty, but about his temporary hoarseness, as plans were laid for the 1880 presidential campaign. Douglass was needed to help keep the black vote in line and lure back the reform vote. James A. Garfield, an intellectual Civil War general from Ohio, was Douglass's kind of politician, and he stumped for him in the South and the Midwest. In the exhilaration of the campaign, Douglass had great hopes that he would be rewarded with a far grander post than he had yet held, perhaps even a place in the cabinet. But after Garfield was elected and while the quadrennial speculation over cabinet selection raged, he issued a Uriah Heep of a disclaimer, saying he was "altogether too modest" to hope for so high a post.
Douglass did, however, let the president-elect know that the "colored people of this country want office not as the price of their votes ..., but for their recognition as a part of the American people." Samuel Clemens, for one, agreed. Douglass, at the least, should keep his job as marshal. Clemens's brother-in-law, a fellow abolitionist, admired Douglass, and Clemens, who was soon to bring Huck and Jim into being, did too. In January, as jobs were being parceled out, the nation's most popular author, not using his clearest prose, wrote to Garfield in Douglass's behalf: "He is a personal friend of mine, but that is nothing to the point, his history would move me to say these things without that, and I feel them too." The marshal was sent a copy of the letter by Clemens's brother-in‐ law; buoyed by this support, he wrote to thank Clemens, saying that his