Up from Slavery: An Autobiography
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 had 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 were 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.
Chapter XVII.
Last Words
Before going to Europe some events came into my life which were great
surprises to me. In fact, my whole life has largely been one of
surprises. I believe that any man’s life will be filled with constant,
unexpected encouragements of this kind if he makes up his mind to do
his level best each day of his life—that is, tries to make each day
reach as nearly as possible the high-water mark of pure, unselfish,
useful living. I pity the man, black or white, who has never
experienced the joy and satisfaction that come to one by reason of an
effort to assist in making some one else more useful and more happy.
Six months before he died, and nearly a year after he had been stricken
with paralysis, General Armstrong expressed a wish to visit Tuskegee
again before he passed away. Notwithstanding the fact that he had lost
the use of his limbs to such an extent that he was practically
helpless, his wish was gratified, and he was brought to Tuskegee. The
owners of the Tuskegee Railroad, white men living in the town, offered
to run a special train, without cost, out of the main station—Chehaw,
five miles away—to meet him. He arrived on the school grounds about
nine o’clock in the evening. Some one had suggested that we give the
General a “pine-knot torchlight reception.” This plan was carried out,
and the moment that his carriage entered the school grounds he began
passing between two lines of lighted and waving “fat pine” wood knots
held by over a thousand students and teachers. The whole thing was so
novel and surprising that the General was completely overcome with
happiness. He remained a guest in my home for nearly two months, and,
although almost wholly without the use of voice or limb, he spent
nearly every hour in devising ways and means to help the South. Time
and time again he said to me, during this visit, that it was not only
the duty of the country to assist in elevating the Negro of the South,
but the poor white man as well. At the end of his visit I resolved anew
to devote myself more earnestly than ever to the cause which was so
near his heart. I said that if a man in his condition was willing to
think, work, and act, I should not be wanting in furthering in every
possible way the wish of his heart.
The death of General Armstrong, a few weeks later, gave me the
privilege of getting acquainted with one of the finest, most unselfish,
and most attractive men that I have ever come in contact with. I refer
to the Rev. Dr. Hollis B. Frissell, now the Principal of the Hampton
Institute, and General Armstrong’s successor. Under the clear, strong,
and almost perfect leadership of Dr. Frissell, Hampton has had a career
of prosperity and usefulness that is all that the General could have
wished for. It seems to be the constant effort of Dr. Frissell to hide
his own great personality behind that of General Armstrong—to make
himself of “no reputation” for the sake of the cause.
More than once I have been asked what was the greatest surprise that
ever came to me. I have little hesitation in answering that question.
It was the following letter, which came to me one Sunday morning when I
was sitting on the veranda of my home at Tuskegee, surrounded by my
wife and three children:—
Harvard University, Cambridge, May 28, 1896.
President Booker T. Washington,
My Dear Sir: Harvard University desired to confer on you at the