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Tuskegee,
Alabama.
My
dear Papa: Before you left home you told me to work at my trade half of each
day. I like my work so much that I want to work at my trade all day.
Besides, I want to earn all the money I can, so that when I go to another
school I shall have money to pay my expenses.
Your
son,
Booker.
My
youngest child, Earnest Davidson Washington, says that he is going to be a
physician. In addition to going to school, where he studies books and has
manual training, he regularly spends a portion of his time in the office of
our resident physician, and has already learned to do many of the studies
which pertain to a doctor's office.
The
thing in my life which brings me the keenest regret is that my work in
connection with public affairs keeps me for so much of the time away from my
family, where, of all places in the world, I delight to be. I always envy
the individual whose life-work is so laid that he can spend his evenings at
home. I have sometimes thought that people who have this rare privilege do
not appreciate it as they should. It is such a rest and relief to get away
from crowds of people, and handshaking, and travelling, to get home, even if
it be for but a very brief while.
Another
thing at Tuskegee out of which I get a great deal of pleasure and
satisfaction is in the meeting with our students, and teachers, and their
families, in the chapel for devotional exercises every evening at half-past
eight, the last thing before retiring for the night. It is an inspiring
sight when one stands on the platform there and sees before him eleven or
twelve hundred earnest young men and women; and one cannot but feel that it
is a privilege to help to guide them to a higher and more useful life.
In
the spring of 1899 there came to me what I might describe as almost the
greatest surprise of my life. Some good ladies in Boston arranged a public
meeting in the interests of Tuskegee, to be held in the Hollis Street
Theatre. This meeting was attended by large numbers of the best people of
Boston, of both races. Bishop Lawrence presided. In addition to an address
made by myself, Mr. Paul Lawrence Dunbar read from his poems, and Dr. W.E.B.
Du Bois read an original sketch.
Some
of those who attended this meeting noticed that I seemed unusually tired,
and some little time after the close of the meeting, one of the ladies who
had been interested in it asked me in a casual way if I had ever been to
Europe. I replied that I never had. She asked me if I had ever thought of
going, and I told her no; that it was something entirely beyond me. This
conversation soon passed out of my mind, but a few days afterward I was
informed that some friends in Boston, including Mr. Francis J. Garrison, had
raised a sum of money sufficient to pay all the expenses of Mrs. Washington
and myself during a three or four months' trip to Europe. It was added with
emphasis that we MUST go. A year previous to this Mr. Garrison had attempted
to get me to promise to go to Europe for a summer's rest, with the
understanding that he would be responsible for raising the money among his
friends for the expenses of the trip. At that time such a journey seemed so
entirely foreign to anything that I should ever be able to undertake that I
did confess I did not give the matter very serious attention; but later Mr.
Garrison joined his efforts to those of the ladies whom I have mentioned,
and when their plans were made known to me Mr. Garrison not only had the
route mapped out, but had, I believe, selected the steamer upon which we
were to sail.
The
whole thing was so sudden and so unexpected that I was completely taken off
my feet. I had been at work steadily for eighteen years in connection with
Tuskegee, and I had never thought of anything else but ending my life in
that way. Each day the school seemed to depend upon me more largely for its
daily expenses, and I told these Boston friends that, while I thanked them
sincerely for their thoughtfulness and generosity, I could not go to Europe,
for the reason that the school could not live financially while I was
absent. They then informed me that Mr. Henry L. Higginson, and some other
good friends who I know do not want their names made public, were then
raising a sum of money which would be sufficient to keep the school in
operation while I was away. At this point I was compelled to surrender.
Every avenue of escape had been closed.
Deep
down in my heart the whole thing seemed more like a dream than like reality,
and for a long time it was difficult for me to make myself believe that I
was actually going to Europe. I had been born and largely reared in the
lowest depths of slavery, ignorance, and poverty. In my childhood I had
suffered for want of a place to sleep, for lack of food, clothing, and
shelter. I had not had the privilege of sitting down to a dining-table until
I was quite well grown. Luxuries had always seemed to me to be something
meant for white people, not for my race. I had always regarded Europe, and
London, and Paris, much as I regarded heaven. And now could it be that I was
actually going to Europe? Such thoughts as these were constantly with me.
Two
other thoughts troubled me a good deal. I feared that people who heard that
Mrs. Washington and I were going to Europe might not know all the
circumstances, and might get the idea that we had become, as some might say,
"stuck up," and were trying to "show off." I recalled
that from my youth I had heard it said that too often, when people of my
race reached any degree of success, they were inclined to unduly exalt
themselves; to try and ape the wealthy, and in so doing to lose their heads.
The fear that people might think this of us haunted me a good deal. Then,
too, I could not see how my conscience would permit me to spare the time
from my work and be happy. It seemed mean and selfish in me to be taking a
vacation while others were at work, and while there was so much that needed
to be done. From the time I could remember, I had always been at work, and I
did not see how I could spend three or four months in doing nothing. The
fact was that I did not know how to take a vacation.
Mrs.
Washington had much the same difficulty in getting away, but she was anxious
to go because she thought that I needed the rest. There were many important
National questions bearing upon the life of the race which were being
agitated at that time, and this made it all the harder for us to decide to
go. We finally gave our Boston friends our promise that we would go, and
then they insisted that the date of our departure be set as soon as
possible. So we decided upon May 10. My good friend Mr. Garrison kindly took
charge of all the details necessary for the success of the trip, and he, as
well as other friends, gave us a great number of letters of introduction to
people in France and England, and made other arrangements for our comfort
and convenience abroad. Good-bys were said at Tuskegee, and we were in New
York May 9, ready to sail the next day. Our daughter Portia, who was then
studying in South Framingham, Mass., came to New York to see us off. Mr.
Scott, my secretary, came with me to New York, in order that I might clear
up the last bit of business before I left. Other friends also came to New
York to see us off. Just before we went on board the steamer another
pleasant surprise came to us in the form of a letter from two generous
ladies, stating that they had decided to give us the money with which to
erect a new building to be used in properly housing all our industries for
girls at Tuskegee.
We
were to sail on the Friesland, of the Red Star Line, and a beautiful vessel
she was. We went on board just before noon, the hour of sailing. I had never
before been on board a large ocean steamer, and the feeling which took
possession of me when I found myself there is rather hard to describe. It
was a feeling, I think, of awe mingled with delight. We were agreeably
surprised to find that the captain, as well as several of the other
officers, not only knew who we were, but was expecting us and gave us a
pleasant greeting. There were several passengers whom we knew, including
Senator Sewell, of New Jersey, and Edward Marshall, the newspaper
correspondent. I had just a little fear that we would not be treated civilly
by some of the passengers. This fear was based upon what I had heard other
people of my race, who had crossed the ocean, say about unpleasant
experiences in crossing the ocean in American vessels. But in our case, from
the captain down to the most humble servant, we were treated with the
greatest kindness. Nor was this kindness confined to those who were
connected with the steamer; it was shown by all the passengers also. There
were not a few Southern men and women on board, and they were as cordial as
those from other parts of the country.
As
soon as the last good-bys were said, and the steamer had cut loose from the
wharf, the load of care, anxiety, and responsibility which I had carried for
eighteen years began to lift itself from my shoulders at the rate, it seemed
to me, of a pound a minute. It was the first time in all those years that I
had felt, even in a measure, free from care; and my feeling of relief it is
hard to describe on paper. Added to this was the delightful anticipation of
being in Europe soon. It all seemed more like a dream than like a reality.
Mr.
Garrison had thoughtfully arranged to have us have one of the most
comfortable rooms on the ship. The second or third day out I began to sleep,
and I think that I slept at the rate of fifteen hours a day during the
remainder of the ten days' passage. Then it was that I began to understand
how tired I really was. These long sleeps I kept up for a month after we
landed on the other side. It was such an unusual feeling to wake up in the
morning and realize that I had no engagements; did not have to take a train
at a certain hour; did not have an appointment to meet some one, or to make
an address, at a certain hour. How different all this was from the
experiences that I have been through when travelling, when I have sometimes
slept in three different beds in a single night!
When
Sunday came, the captain invited me to conduct the religious services, but,
not being a minister, I declined. The passengers, however, began making
requests that I deliver an address to them in the dining-saloon some time
during the voyage, and this I consented to do. Senator Sewell presided at
this meeting. After ten days of delightful weather, during which I was not
seasick for a day, we landed at the interesting old city of Antwerp, in
Belgium.
The
next day after we landed happened to be one of those numberless holidays
which the people of those countries are in the habit of observing. It was a
bright, beautiful day. Our room in the hotel faced the main public square,
and the sights there--the people coming in from the country with all kinds
of beautiful flowers to sell, the women coming in with their dogs drawing
large, brightly polished cans filled with milk, the people streaming into
the cathedral--filled me with a sense of newness that I had never before
experienced.
After
spending some time in Antwerp, we were invited to go with a part of a
half-dozen persons on a trip through Holland. This party included Edward
Marshall and some American artists who had come over on the same steamer
with us. We accepted the invitation, and enjoyed the trip greatly. I think
it was all the more interesting and instructive because we went for most of
the way on one of the slow, old-fashioned canal-boats. This gave us an
opportunity of seeing and studying the real life of the people in the
country districts. We went in this way as far as Rotterdam, and later went
to The Hague, where the Peace Conference was then in session, and where we
were kindly received by the American representatives.
The
thing that impressed itself most on me in Holland was the thoroughness of
the agriculture and the excellence of the Holstein cattle. I never knew,
before visiting Holland, how much it was possible for people to get out of a
small plot of ground. It seemed to me that absolutely no land was wasted. It
was worth a trip to Holland, too, just to get a sight of three or four
hundred fine Holstein cows grazing in one of those intensely green fields.
From
Holland we went to Belgium, and made a hasty trip through that country,
stopping at Brussels, where we visited the battlefield of Waterloo. From
Belgium we went direct to Paris, where we found that Mr. Theodore Stanton,
the son of Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, had kindly provided accommodations
for us. We had barely got settled in Paris before an invitation came to me
from the University Club of Paris to be its guest at a banquet which was
soon to be given. The other guests were ex-President Benjamin Harrison and
Archbishop Ireland, who were in Paris at the time. The American Ambassador,
General Horace Porter, presided at the banquet. My address on this occasion
seemed to give satisfaction to those who heard it. General Harrison kindly
devoted a large portion of his remarks at dinner to myself and to the
influence of the work at Tuskegee on the American race question. After my
address at this banquet other invitations came to me, but I declined the
most of them, knowing that if I accepted them all, the object of my visit
would be defeated. I did, however, consent to deliver an address in the
American chapel the following Sunday morning, and at this meeting General
Harrison, General Porter, and other distinguished Americans were present.
Later
we received a formal call from the American Ambassador, and were invited to
attend a reception at his residence. At this reception we met many
Americans, among them Justices Fuller and Harlan, of the United States
Supreme Court. During our entire stay of a month in Paris, both the American
Ambassador and his wife, as well as several other Americans, were very kind
to us.
While
in Paris we saw a good deal of the now famous American Negro painter, Mr.
Henry O. Tanner, whom we had formerly known in America. It was very
satisfactory to find how well known Mr. Tanner was in the field of art, and
to note the high standing which all classes accorded to him. When we told
some Americans that we were going to the Luxembourg Palace to see a painting
by an American Negro, it was hard to convince them that a Negro had been
thus honoured. I do not believe that they were really convinced of the fact
until they saw the picture for themselves. My acquaintance with Mr. Tanner
reenforced in my mind the truth which I am constantly trying to impress upon
our students at Tuskegee--and on our people throughout the country, as far
as I can reach them with my voice--that any man, regardless of colour, will
be recognized and rewarded just in proportion as he learns to do something
well--learns to do it better than some one else--however humble the thing
may be. As I have said, I believe that my race will succeed in proportion as
it learns to do a common thing in an uncommon manner; learns to do a thing
so thoroughly that no one can improve upon what it has done; learns to make
its services of indispensable value. This was the spirit that inspired me in
my first effort at Hampton, when I was given the opportunity to sweep and
dust that schoolroom. In a degree I felt that my whole future life depended
upon the thoroughness with which I cleaned that room, and I was determined
to do it so well that no one could find any fault with the job. Few people
ever stopped, I found, when looking at his pictures, to inquire whether Mr.
Tanner was a Negro painter, a French painter, or a German painter. They
simply knew that he was able to produce something which the world wanted--a
great painting--and the matter of his colour did not enter into their minds.
When a Negro girl learns to cook, to wash dishes, to sew, or write a book,
or a Negro boy learns to groom horses, or to grow sweet potatoes, or to
produce butter, or to build a house, or to be able to practise medicine, as
well or better than some one else, they will be rewarded regardless of race
or colour. In the long run, the world is going to have the best, and any
difference in race, religion, or previous history will not long keep the
world from what it wants.
I
think that the whole future of my race hinges on the question as to whether
or not it can make itself of such indispensible value that the people in the
town and the state where we reside will feel that our presence is necessary
to the happiness and well-being of the community. No man who continues to
add something to the material, intellectual, and moral well-being of the
place in which he lives is long left without proper reward. This is a great
human law which cannot be permanently nullified.
The
love of pleasure and excitement which seems in a large measure to possess
the French people impressed itself upon me. I think they are more noted in
this respect than is true of the people of my own race. In point of morality
and moral earnestness I do not believe that the French are ahead of my own
race in America. Severe competition and the great stress of life have led
them to learn to do things more thoroughly and to exercise greater economy;
but time, I think, will bring my race to the same point. In the matter of
truth and high honour I do not believe that the average Frenchman is ahead
of the American Negro; while so far as mercy and kindness to dumb animals
go, I believe that my race is far ahead. In fact, when I left France, I had
more faith in the future of the black man in America than I had ever
possessed.
From
Paris we went to London, and reached there early in July, just about the
height of the London social season. Parliament was in session, and there was
a great deal of gaiety. Mr. Garrison and other friends had provided us with
a large number of letters of introduction, and they had also sent letters to
other persons in different parts of the United Kingdom, apprising these
people of our coming. Very soon after reaching London we were flooded with
invitations to attend all manner of social functions, and a great many
invitations came to me asking that I deliver public addresses. The most of
these invitations I declined, for the reason that I wanted to rest. Neither
were we able to accept more than a small proportion of the other
invitations. The Rev. Dr. Brooke Herford and Mrs. Herford, whom I had known
in Boston, consulted with the American Ambassador, the Hon. Joseph Choate,
and arranged for me to speak at a public meeting to be held in Essex Hall.
Mr. Choate kindly consented to preside. The meeting was largely attended.
There were many distinguished persons present, among them several members of
Parliament, including Mr. James Bryce, who spoke at the meeting. What the
American Ambassador said in introducing me, as well as a synopsis of what I
said, was widely published in England and in the American papers at the
time. Dr. and Mrs. Herford gave Mrs. Washington and myself a reception, at
which we had the privilege of meeting some of the best people in England.
Throughout our stay in London Ambassador Choate was most kind and attentive
to us. At the Ambassador's reception I met, for the first time, Mark Twain.
We
were the guests several times of Mrs. T. Fisher Unwin, the daughter of the
English statesman, Richard Cobden. It seemed as if both Mr. and Mrs. Unwin
could not do enough for our comfort and happiness. Later, for nearly a week,
we were the guests of the daughter of John Bright, now Mrs. Clark, of
Street, England. Both Mr. and Mrs. Clark, with their daughter, visited us at
Tuskegee the next year. In Birmingham, England, we were the guests for
several days of Mr. Joseph Sturge, whose father was a great abolitionist and
friend of Whittier and Garrison. It was a great privilege to meet throughout
England those who had known and honoured the late William Lloyd Garrison,
the Hon. Frederick Douglass, and other abolitionists. The English
abolitionists with whom we came in contact never seemed to tire of talking
about these two Americans. Before going to England I had had no proper
conception of the deep interest displayed by the abolitionists of England in
the cause of freedom, nor did I realize the amount of substantial help given
by them.
In
Bristol, England, both Mrs. Washington and I spoke at the Women's Liberal
Club. I was also the principal speaker at the Commencement exercises of the
Royal College for the Blind. These exercises were held in the Crystal
Palace, and the presiding officer was the late Duke of Westminster, who was
said to be, I believe, the richest man in England, if not in the world. The
Duke, as well as his wife and their daughter, seemed to be pleased with what
I said, and thanked me heartily. Through the kindness of Lady Aberdeen, my
wife and I were enabled to go with a party of those who were attending the
International Congress of Women, then in session in London, to see Queen
Victoria, at Windsor Castle, where, afterward, we were all the guests of her
Majesty at tea. In our party was Miss Susan B. Anthony, and I was deeply
impressed with the fact that one did not often get an opportunity to see,
during the same hour, two women so remarkable in different ways as Susan B.
Anthony and Queen Victoria.
In
the House of Commons, which we visited several times, we met Sir Henry M.
Stanley. I talked with him about Africa and its relation to the American
Negro, and after my interview with him I became more convinced than ever
that there was no hope of the American Negro's improving his condition by
emigrating to Africa.
On
various occasions Mrs. Washington and I were the guests of Englishmen in
their country homes, where, I think, one sees the Englishman at his best. In
one thing, at least, I feel sure that the English are ahead of Americans,
and that is, that they have learned how to get more out of life. The home
life of the English seems to me to be about as perfect as anything can be.
Everything moves like clockwork. I was impressed, too, with the deference
that the servants show to their "masters" and
"mistresses,"--terms which I suppose would not be tolerated in
America. The English servant expects, as a rule, to be nothing but a
servant, and so he perfects himself in the art to a degree that no class of
servants in America has yet reached. In our country the servant expects to
become, in a few years, a "master" himself. Which system is
preferable? I will not venture an answer.
Another
thing that impressed itself upon me throughout England was the high regard
that all classes have for law and order, and the ease and thoroughness with
which everything is done. The Englishmen, I found, took plenty of time for
eating, as for everything else. I am not sure if, in the long run, they do
not accomplish as much or more than rushing, nervous Americans do.
My
visit to England gave me a higher regard for the nobility than I had had. I
had no idea that they were so generally loved and respected by the classes,
nor that I any correct conception of how much time and money they spent in
works of philanthropy, and how much real heart they put into this work. My
impression had been that they merely spent money freely and had a "good
time."
It
was hard for me to get accustomed to speaking to English audiences. The
average Englishman is so serious, and is so tremendously in earnest about
everything, that when I told a story that would have made an American
audience roar with laughter, the Englishmen simply looked me straight in the
face without even cracking a smile.
When
the Englishman takes you into his heart and friendship, he binds you there
as with cords of steel, and I do not believe that there are many other
friendships that are so lasting or so satisfactory. Perhaps I can illustrate
this point in no better way than by relating the following incident. Mrs.
Washington and I were invited to attend a reception given by the Duke and
Duchess of Sutherland, at Stafford House--said to be the finest house in
London; I may add that I believe the Duchess of Sutherland is said to be the
most beautiful woman in England. There must have been at least three hundred
persons at this reception. Twice during the evening the Duchess sought us
out for a conversation, and she asked me to write her when we got home, and
tell her more about the work at Tuskegee. This I did. When Christmas came we
were surprised and delighted to receive her photograph with her autograph on
it. The correspondence has continued, and we now feel that in the Duchess of
Sutherland we have one of our warmest friends.
After
three months in Europe we sailed from Southampton in the steamship St.
Louis. On this steamer there was a fine library that had been presented to
the ship by the citizens of St. Louis, Mo. In this library I found a life of
Frederick Douglass, which I began reading. I became especially interested in
Mr. Douglass's description of the way he was treated on shipboard during his
first or second visit to England. In this description he told how he was not
permitted to enter the cabin, but had to confine himself to the deck of the
ship. A few minutes after I had finished reading this description I was
waited on by a committee of ladies and gentlemen with the request that I
deliver an address at a concert which was to begin the following evening.
And yet there are people who are bold enough to say that race feeling in
America is not growing less intense! At this concert the Hon. Benjamin B.
Odell, Jr., the present governor of New York, presided. I was never given a
more cordial hearing anywhere. A large proportion of the passengers with
Southern people. After the concert some of the passengers proposed that a
subscription be raised to help the work at Tuskegee, and the money to
support several scholarships was the result.
While
we were in Paris I was very pleasantly surprised to receive the following
invitation from the citizens of West Virginia and of the city near which I
had spent my boyhood days:--
Charleston,
W. Va., May 16, 1899.
Professor
Booker T. Washington, Paris, France:
Dear
Sir: Many of the best citizens of West Virginia have united in liberal
expressions of admiration and praise of your worth and work, and desire that
on your return from Europe you should favour them with your presence and
with the inspiration of your words. We must sincerely indorse this move, and
on behalf of the citizens of Charleston extend to your our most cordial
invitation to have you come to us, that we may honour you who have done so
much by your life and work to honour us.
We
are,
Very
truly yours,
The
Common Council of the City of Charleston,
By
W. Herman Smith, Mayor.
This
invitation from the City Council of Charleston was accompanied by the
following:--
Professor
Booker T. Washington, Paris, France:
Dear
Sir: We, the citizens of Charleston and West Virginia, desire to express our
pride in you and the splendid career that you have thus far accomplished,
and ask that we be permitted to show our pride and interest in a substantial
way.
Your
recent visit to your old home in our midst awoke within us the keenest
regret that we were not permitted to hear you and render some substantial
aid to your work, before you left for Europe.
In
view of the foregoing, we earnestly invite you to share the hospitality of
our city upon your return from Europe, and give us the opportunity to hear
you and put ourselves in touch with your work in a way that will be most
gratifying to yourself, and that we may receive the inspiration of your
words and presence.
An
early reply to this invitation, with an indication of the time you may reach
our city, will greatly oblige,
Yours
very respectfully,
The
Charleston Daily Gazette, The Daily Mail-Tribune; G.W. Atkinson, Governor;
E.L. Boggs, Secretary to Governor; Wm. M.O. Dawson, Secretary of State; L.M.
La Follette, Auditor; J.R. Trotter, Superintendent of Schools; E.W. Wilson,
ex-Governor; W.A. MacCorkle, ex-Governor; John Q. Dickinson, President
Kanawha Valley Bank; L. Prichard, President Charleston National Bank; Geo.
S. Couch, President Kanawha National Bank; Ed. Reid, Cashier Kanawha
National Bank; Geo. S. Laidley, Superintended City Schools; L.E. McWhorter,
President Board of Education; Chas. K. Payne, wholesale merchant; and many
others.
This
invitation, coming as it did from the City Council, the state officers, and
all the substantial citizens of both races of the community where I had
spent my boyhood, and from which I had gone a few years before, unknown, in
poverty and ignorance, in quest of an education, not only surprised me, but
almost unmanned me. I could not understand what I had done to deserve it
all.
I
accepted the invitation, and at the appointed day was met at the railway
station at Charleston by a committee headed by ex-Governor W.A. MacCorkle,
and composed of men of both races. The public reception was held in the
Opera-House at Charleston. The Governor of the state, the Hon. George W.
Atkinson, presided, and an address of welcome was made by ex-Governor
MacCorkle. A prominent part in the reception was taken by the coloured
citizens. The Opera-House was filled with citizens of both races, and among
the white people were many for whom I had worked when I was a boy. The next
day Governor and Mrs. Atkinson gave me a public reception at the State
House, which was attended by all classes.
Not
long after this the coloured people in Atlanta, Georgia, gave me a reception
at which the Governor of the state presided, and a similar reception was
given me in New Orleans, which was presided over by the Mayor of the city.
Invitations came from many other places which I was not able to accept.
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