Up from Slavery: An Autobiography
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 indispensable 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