The Commission which President Grant sent to the Caribbean was one of many. Secretary Seward himself had gone to Haiti in the winter of 1865. And in 1867 Seward had sent his son, then Assistant Secretary of State. But the appointment of Frederick Douglass on Grant’s Commission was a pretty gesture. A naval vessel manned by one hundred marines and five hundred sailors, with the Stars and Stripes floating in the breeze, steaming into Samoná Bay bringing Frederick Douglass and a “confidential reconnaissance commission” of investigation! A reporter from the _New York World_ went along, and much was made of Douglass’ “cordial relations” with the other members and of the fact that he was given the seat of honor at the captain’s table. It was a delightful cruise. After thirty-six hours in port, they were ready to leave with the report that the people were “unanimously” in favor of annexation by the United States. Douglass heard nothing of the insurrection going on in the hills, nor of the rival factions bidding for American support, nor of the dollars from New York. In spite of the commission, however, Horace Greeley and Charles Sumner defeated the bill--a bitter disappointment to certain interests, but far from a knockout blow. * * * * * The “old settlers” of Rochester tendered a farewell reception to Frederick Douglass and his family when he took formal leave of the city which had been his home for thirty years. All the old-time Abolitionists who had weathered the long and bitter storm were invited. Gerrit Smith, shrunken and feeble, was there. Joy and sadness sat down together at that board. But everyone was proud of the dark man whom Rochester now acclaimed as her “most distinguished son.” Gideon Pitts’s father, old Captain Peter Pitts, had been the first settler in the township of Richmond, so Gideon Pitts and his wife were among the sponsors of the affair. “Those were trying days even in our quiet valley,” Pitts’s eyes twinkled. Douglass was trying to recall the grizzled face. “But we licked ’em!” It was the chuckle that brought it all back--the house offering shelter from pursuers, his pounding on the door and the old man in his nightshirt and bare feet! “Mr. Pitts!” He seized his hand. “Of course, it’s Mr. Pitts!” He turned to his wife, “My dear, these are the folks who took me in that night on Ridge Road. You remember?” “Of course, I remember.” Anna smiled. “I’ve always intended to ride out some afternoon and thank you, but--” She made a little rueful gesture, and she and Mrs. Pitts began to chat. They spoke of their children, and Douglass remembered something else. “You had a little girl--How is she?” The father laughed proudly. “My little girl’s quite a young lady now. She’s one that knows her own mind, too--belongs to Miss Anthony’s voting society. She says that’s the next thing--votes for women!”