Up from Slavery: An Autobiography
While I was waiting for an answer, her husband came in, and asked me in
the most abrupt manner what I wanted. When I tried to explain the
object of my call, he became still more ungentlemanly in his words and
manner, and finally grew so excited that I left the house without
waiting for a reply from the lady. A few blocks from that house I
called to see a gentleman who received me in the most cordial manner.
He wrote me his check for a generous sum, and then, before I had had an
opportunity to thank him, said: “I am so grateful to you, Mr.
Washington, for giving me the opportunity to help a good cause. It is a
privilege to have a share in it. We in Boston are constantly indebted
to you for doing our work.” My experience in securing money convinces
me that the first type of man is growing more rare all the time, and
that the latter type is increasing; that is, that, more and more, rich
people are coming to regard men and women who apply to them for help
for worthy objects, not as beggars, but as agents for doing their work.
In the city of Boston I have rarely called upon an individual for funds
that I have not been thanked for calling, usually before I could get an
opportunity to thank the donor for the money. In that city the donors
seem to feel, in a large degree, that an honour is being conferred upon
them in their being permitted to give. Nowhere else have I met with, in
so large a measure, this fine and Christlike spirit as in the city of
Boston, although there are many notable instances of it outside that
city. I repeat my belief that the world is growing in the direction of
giving. I repeat that the main rule by which I have been guided in
collecting money is to do my full duty in regard to giving people who
have money an opportunity for help.
In the early years of the Tuskegee school I walked the streets or
travelled country roads in the North for days and days without
receiving a dollar. Often as it happened, when during the week I had
been disappointed in not getting a cent from the very individuals from
whom I most expected help, and when I was almost broken down and
discouraged, that generous help has come from some one who I had had
little idea would give at all.
I recall that on one occasion I obtained information that led me to
believe that a gentleman who lived about two miles out in the country
from Stamford, Conn., might become interested in our efforts at
Tuskegee if our conditions and needs were presented to him. On an
unusually cold and stormy day I walked the two miles to see him. After
some difficulty I succeeded in securing an interview with him. He
listened with some degree of interest to what I had to say, but did not
give me anything. I could not help having the feeling that, in a
measure, the three hours that I had spent in seeing him had been thrown
away. Still, I had followed my usual rule of doing my duty. If I had
not seen him, I should have felt unhappy over neglect of duty.
Two years after this visit a letter came to Tuskegee from this man,
which read like this: “Enclosed I send you a New York draft for ten
thousand dollars, to be used in furtherance of your work. I had placed
this sum in my will for your school, but deem it wiser to give it to
you while I live. I recall with pleasure your visit to me two years
ago.”
I can hardly imagine any occurrence which could have given me more
genuine satisfaction than the receipt of this draft. It was by far the
largest single donation which up to that time the school had ever
received. It came at a time when an unusually long period had passed
since we had received any money. We were in great distress because of
lack of funds, and the nervous strain was tremendous. It is difficult
for me to think of any situation that is more trying on the nerves than
that of conducting a large institution, with heavy obligations to meet,
without knowing where the money is to come from to meet these
obligations from month to month.
In our case I felt a double responsibility, and this made the anxiety
all the more intense. If the institution had been officered by white
persons, and had failed, it would have injured the cause of Negro
education; but I knew that the failure of our institution, officered by
Negroes, would not only mean the loss of a school, but would cause
people, in a large degree, to lose faith in the ability of the entire
race. The receipt of this draft for ten thousand dollars, under all
these circumstances, partially lifted a burden that had been pressing
down upon me for days.
From the beginning of our work to the present I have always had the
feeling, and lose no opportunity to impress our teachers with the same
idea, that the school will always be supported in proportion as the
inside of the institution is kept clean and pure and wholesome.
The first time I ever saw the late Collis P. Huntington, the great
railroad man, he gave me two dollars for our school. The last time I
saw him, which was a few months before he died, he gave me fifty
thousand dollars toward our endowment fund. Between these two gifts
there were others of generous proportions which came every year from
both Mr. and Mrs. Huntington.
Some people may say that it was Tuskegee’s good luck that brought to us
this gift of fifty thousand dollars. No, it was not luck. It was hard
work. Nothing ever comes to me, that is worth having, except as the
result of hard work. When Mr. Huntington gave me the first two dollars,
I did not blame him for not giving me more, but made up my mind that I
was going to convince him by tangible results that we were worthy of
larger gifts. For a dozen years I made a strong effort to convince Mr.
Huntington of the value of our work. I noted that just in proportion as
the usefulness of the school grew, his donations increased. Never did I
meet an individual who took a more kindly and sympathetic interest in
our school than did Mr. Huntington. He not only gave money to us, but
took time in which to advise me, as a father would a son, about the
general conduct of the school.
More than once I have found myself in some pretty tight places while
collecting money in the North. The following incident I have never
related but once before, for the reason that I feared that people would
not believe it. One morning I found myself in Providence, Rhode Island,
without a cent of money with which to buy breakfast. In crossing the
street to see a lady from whom I hoped to get some money, I found a
bright new twenty-five-cent piece in the middle of the street track. I
not only had this twenty-five cents for my breakfast, but within a few
minutes I had a donation from the lady on whom I had started to call.
At one of our Commencements I was bold enough to invite the Rev. E.
Winchester Donald, D.D., rector of Trinity Church, Boston, to preach
the Commencement sermon. As we then had no room large enough to
accommodate all who would be present, the place of meeting was under a
large improvised arbour, built partly of brush and partly of rough
boards. Soon after Dr. Donald had begun speaking, the rain came down in
torrents, and he had to stop, while someone held an umbrella over him.
The boldness of what I had done never dawned upon me until I saw the
picture made by the rector of Trinity Church standing before that large
audience under an old umbrella, waiting for the rain to cease so that
he could go on with his address.
It was not very long before the rain ceased and Dr. Donald finished his
sermon; and an excellent sermon it was, too, in spite of the weather.
After he had gone to his room, and had gotten the wet threads of his
clothes dry, Dr. Donald ventured the remark that a large chapel at
Tuskegee would not be out of place. The next day a letter came from two
ladies who were then travelling in Italy, saying that they had decided
to give us the money for such a chapel as we needed.
A short time ago we received twenty thousand dollars from Mr. Andrew
Carnegie, to be used for the purpose of erecting a new library
building. Our first library and reading-room were in a corner of a
shanty, and the whole thing occupied a space about five by twelve feet.
It required ten years of work before I was able to secure Mr.
Carnegie’s interest and help. The first time I saw him, ten years ago,
he seemed to take but little interest in our school, but I was
determined to show him that we were worthy of his help. After ten years
of hard work I wrote him a letter reading as follows:
December 15, 1900.
Mr. Andrew Carnegie, 5 W. Fifty-first St., New York.
Dear Sir: Complying with the request which you made of me when I saw
you at your residence a few days ago, I now submit in writing an appeal
for a library building for our institution.
We have 1100 students, 86 officers and instructors, together with their
families, and about 200 coloured people living near the school, all of
whom would make use of the library building.
We have over 12,000 books, periodicals, etc., gifts from our friends,
but we have no suitable place for them, and we have no suitable
reading-room.
Our graduates go to work in every section of the South, and whatever
knowledge might be obtained in the library would serve to assist in the
elevation of the whole Negro race.
Such a building as we need could be erected for about $20,000. All of
the work for the building, such as brickmaking, brick-masonry,
carpentry, blacksmithing, etc., would be done by the students. The
money which you would give would not only supply the building, but the
erection of the building would give a large number of students an
opportunity to learn the building trades, and the students would use
the money paid to them to keep themselves in school. I do not believe
that a similar amount of money often could be made go so far in
uplifting a whole race.
If you wish further information, I shall be glad to furnish it.
Yours truly,
Booker T. Washington, Principal.
The next mail brought back the following reply: “I will be very glad to
pay the bills for the library building as they are incurred, to the
extent of twenty thousand dollars, and I am glad of this opportunity to
show the interest I have in your noble work.”
I have found that strict business methods go a long way in securing the
interest of rich people. It has been my constant aim at Tuskegee to
carry out, in our financial and other operations, such business methods
as would be approved of by any New York banking house.
I have spoken of several large gifts to the school; but by far the
greater proportion of the money that has built up the institution has
come in the form of small donations from persons of moderate means. It
is upon these small gifts, which carry with them the interest of
hundreds of donors, that any philanthropic work must depend largely for
its support. In my efforts to get money I have often been surprised at
the patience and deep interest of the ministers, who are besieged on
every hand and at all hours of the day for help. If no other
consideration had convinced me of the value of the Christian life, the
Christlike work which the Church of all denominations in America has
done during the last thirty-five years for the elevation of the black
man would have made me a Christian. In a large degree it has been the
pennies, the nickels, and the dimes which have come from the
Sunday-schools, the Christian Endeavour societies, and the missionary
societies, as well as from the church proper, that have helped to
elevate the Negro at so rapid a rate.
This speaking of small gifts reminds me to say that very few Tuskegee
graduates fail to send us an annual contribution. These contributions
range from twenty-five cents up to ten dollars.