CHAPTER XXII.
LOOKING BACKWARD.
My work at Tuskegee has always been of a three fold nature. First, the executive work of the institution proper; second, the securing of money with which to carry on the institution; and, third, the education through the public press and through public addresses of the white people North and South as to the condition and needs of the race. On the grounds, in addition to the ordinary task involved in educating and disciplining over a thousand students, is added the responsibility of training them in parental directions, involving systematic regulations for bathing, eating, sleeping, the use of the tooth brush and care of health. In performing these duties, especially in collecting money in the early years, I have often met with many discouragements, but I early resolved to let nothing cause me to despair completely.
The first time I went North to secure money for the Tuskegee Institute I remember that on my way I called to see one of the secretaries of an organization which for years had been deeply interested in the education of our people in the South. I supposed, of course, that I should receive a most cordial and encouraging reception at his hands. To my surprise he received me most coldly and proceeded to tell me in the most discouraging tones possible that I had made a mistake by coming North to secure aid for our school, and he advised me to take the first train South. He said that I could not possibly succeed in securing any funds for Tuskegee. In fact, he told me very frankly that I would not secure enough money to pay my traveling expenses. I confess that this bucket of cold water thrown upon me at a time when I needed encouraging and sympathetic words more than anything else, rather tended to take the heart out of me, but I determined not to give up, but to keep pressing forward, until I had thoroughly demonstrated whether or not it was possible for me to secure funds in the North. I will not prolong this story except to say that within a period of four years after I was so coldly received by this secretary, he introduced me where I was to speak at a large public meeting in New York City in the interest of Tuskegee; and, in introducing me to the large audience, he used the most flattering language and praised me without stint for the successful work that I was engaged in doing. I do not know whether he remembered, while he was introducing me, that I was the young man he had discouraged only four years before.
I shall never forget my first experience in speaking before a Northern audience. Before I went North Gen. Armstrong had talked to me a good deal about what to say and how to say it. I shall always remember one of his injunctions, which was, “Give them an idea for every word.” When I first went into the North to get money I began work in one or two of the small towns in the Western part of Massachusetts. As I remember it, the first town that I reached was Northampton. As I expected to remain in the town several days, my first effort was to find a colored family with whom I could board, but as very few colored families lived in that town I found this not an easy job. It did not once occur to me that I could find accommodation at any of the hotels in Northampton.
As an indication of Gen. Armstrong’s deep interest and helpful influence in the establishment and progress of this institution, I insert a letter of recommendation he gave me to be used among people in the North. These letters were always given most freely and the General was constantly in search of opportunities to serve the school:
“HAMPTON, VA., Oct. 26, 1891.
“This is to introduce Mr. Booker T. Washington, the head of the Tuskegee, Alabama, Colored Normal and Industrial School.
“It is a noble, notable work; the best product of Negro enterprise of the century. I make this statement advisedly. I beg a hearing for Mr. Washington, he is a true ‘Moses.’
“As much as any man in the land, he is securing to the whole country the moral results which the Civil War meant to produce.
“Tuskegee is the bright spot in the Black Belt of the South. It is a proof that the Negro can raise the Negro.
“S. C. ARMSTRONG.”
On the day before Gen. Armstrong was stricken with the paralysis which finally resulted in his death, I remember that I met him on Beacon Street, in Boston, and told him that some ladies in New York were discussing the matter of giving us a new building, but seemed somewhat undecided as to the wisdom of doing so. I was talking to the General about interceding in order to get these friends to decide to furnish the building. He seemed greatly interested in the matter and promised to either see or communicate with these New York ladies. Before we finished our conversation, however, we were interrupted by some one and we did not finish the talk about the building. The next day Gen. Armstrong was stricken with paralysis, and no one was permitted to see him for several days. After several days had passed by, the doctors seemed to be convinced that he could not live but for a few hours, and I, in company with several other persons, was allowed to see him in his room at the Parker House. To my surprise, the minute I entered the room, he took up the thread of our conversation concerning the building where it was broken off several days previously on Beacon Street, and began at once advising how to secure the building. The General did not recover from this stroke of paralysis, but lived about eight months after it. In January, 1893, that is, about four months before he died, he came to Tuskegee, or rather was brought to Tuskegee, because he was too weak to travel alone, and remained a guest at my home for three weeks. During these weeks he suffered intensely at times, but was always in good spirits and cheerful. His heart was so wrapped up in the elevation of the Negro that it seemed impossible to induce him to take any rest. Most of the time when he was not asleep he was planning or advising concerning the interest of the black man, and spent much time in writing articles for newspapers and to friends in the North. He was present during the session of our Negro Conference in February, 1893, and it was a memorable sight to see him carried by the strong arms of four students up the stairs of the chapel and to the presence of the Conference. The impression that the sight of Gen. Armstrong made upon the members of the Conference is almost indescribable. All felt as though he was their most strong and helpful friend, and they had a confidence in him that they had in no other being on earth. It was at this Conference that Gen. Armstrong made his first attempt to speak in public after he was stricken with paralysis, and his success in being heard and understood was so encouraging that he spoke to audiences on several other occasions.
I must not neglect to mention the manner in which Gen. Armstrong and Mr. Howe, the farm manager at Hampton, were received at the school on the occasion of this visit, for this was the second visit that the General had made to the school. Both students and teachers were most anxious to do him all the honor possible, and for several weeks previous to his coming we were quite busily engaged in devising some plan to receive the General in a proper manner. At last it was decided to ask the authorities of the Tuskegee Railroad to run a special train from Tuskegee to Chehaw to meet the General. This request the railroad authorities very kindly granted. He arrived upon the school grounds at about nine o’clock at night. Each student and teacher had supplied himself with a long piece of light wood, or “litted,” as the colored people are in the habit of calling it. A long line was formed, and when he came upon the school grounds, the General was driven between two rows of students, each one holding one of these lighted torches. The effect was most interesting and gratifying. I think I never saw anything done for the General which seemed to make him so happy and give him such satisfaction as this reception.
The first public address that I delivered in the North was in Chicopee, a town not far from Springfield. I spoke in the Congregational Church in the morning, but was careful to commit my entire address to memory. I was a little embarrassed after the morning meeting was over when several of the members of the congregation, in congratulating me over my success, stated that they had enjoyed my morning address so much that they had planned to go to Chicopee Falls, an adjoining town, to hear me speak in the evening. As I had only the one address to deliver one can easily see that I was in rather an embarrassing position.
While the greater portion of my speaking has been before Northern white audiences, I also improved every opportunity to speak to my own people, both in the North and in the South. In fact, during the earlier years of the institution I carried on a regular campaign of speaking among the colored people in the South, going to their churches, Sunday-schools, associations, institutes, camp-meetings, conferences, etc. They did not, as I have stated, take kindly to the idea of industrial education at first, and it was largely by reason of my efforts in these public meetings that I succeeded in converting them to the idea of favoring industrial education. At one time I hired a team and took one of the older students with me, and we drove for many miles, stopping at the homes of individuals and at churches to explain to them the work of the school.
The first opportunity I had to speak to a Southern white audience was on the occasion of the gathering of the Christian Worker’s Convention, which was held in Atlanta, in 1893. It seems that it was largely because of the impression that I made upon this audience in Atlanta that the authorities of the Atlanta Exposition were led to extend me an invitation to deliver an address at the opening of that exposition. I shall let an account given in the Christian World, published in New Haven, Conn., take the place of my own words in regard to this address before the Christian Worker’s Convention:
“Booker T. Washington, principal of the
Tuskegee, Ala., Normal and Industrial Institute, was given a place on the program at the Convention of Christian Workers held at Atlanta, Ga., in 1893, for a five minutes report of progress, the time being thus brief on account of the fact that a full report with questions and answers covering three-quarters of an hour had been given at the Convention the year previous, held in Tremont Temple, Boston. When he made the engagement he doubtless expected to be either at Tuskegee, which is not far from Atlanta, or spending the Convention days with other Christian Workers in Atlanta. It came about, however, that he found it necessary to make engagements in the North immediately before and after the date on which he was announced to speak at Atlanta. To keep his Atlanta engagement it was necessary that he should leave Boston for that city, reaching there on the last train arriving before he was announced to speak, and to return North on the first train leaving Atlanta after his brief address. It was a great sacrifice for a five minutes’ address. Mr. Washington said simply that it was his duty to keep his appointment. It does not appear that the fact that he would be compelled to travel about 500 miles for every minute of his address, had much weight or even consideration. To do his duty was not small or unimportant. The results of this address were great, great beyond all human thought. Mr. Washington has since stated that he had never before made an address to the white people of the South. His audience of over 2,000 leading Christian people, ministers, business men, legislators, law makers, judges, officials, representatives of the press, from Atlanta, from Georgia and from other states of the South, were charmed by his personality and the passionate earnestness with which he set forth the magnificent scheme of Christian effort at Tuskegee, and pleaded for the upbuilding of his race under Southern skies. This representative audience saw before them a representative of his race such as they had not been wont to see. His address was flashed over the wires by sympathetic press agents through the South, and he probably never before spoke to a larger and more influential audience. But in the providence of God there were still greater results.”
I have always made it a rule to keep engagements of a public nature when I have once made a promise to do so. On one occasion I had an appointment to speak in a small country church not far from Boston. Just before night a severe snow storm came up, and although I knew this storm would keep every one from the meeting, I made it a point to be present. When I got to the church there was no one present except the sexton. The minister himself did not come, and when I saw him later he was surprised to find that I had been at the church on the night appointed, and told me he felt sure I would not be present on account of the storm.
In the earlier days of the institution, of course, it was a difficult task to secure interviews with persons of prominence and wealth in the North, but Gen. Armstrong’s recommendations, which he was always willing to give, in most cases served to secure me a hearing. It was equally difficult in our early history to secure opportunities from ministers and others to speak before their congregations. Such calls on ministers were, of course, very numerous, and one can hardly blame them for shutting out those with whom they were not well acquainted. I have been often surprised to note the number of irresponsible and unworthy colored men and women who spend their time in the North attempting to secure money for institutions that in many cases have no existence; or when they exist at all, are in such a feeble and unorganized condition as in no way to have a claim upon the generosity of the public. Many of these schools, of course, within a radius of a mile or two, do reasonably good work, but I am quite sure the time has come when the North should confine its gifts wholly to the larger and well organized institutions which are able to train teachers or industrial leaders who will go out and show these local communities how to build up schools for themselves. Three or four hundred dollars given to one local community may serve to help it for a time, but there are a hundred thousand other communities that need help just as much; scattering a few hundred dollars here and there among local communities amounts to little in putting the people upon their feet, but putting it into a teacher who will show the community how to help itself means much in the way of the solution of our problem.
The constant work of appealing to individuals, speaking before churches, Sunday-schools, etc., gradually served to make the institution known in most parts of the country. This was true to such an extent that in 1883 we received our first legacy of $500 through the will of Mr. Frederick Marquand of Southport, Conn. This was a most pleasant and gratifying surprise to us, as we had no thought of any one’s remembering us in this way. Since then, however, hardly a year has passed that we have not been remembered by a legacy. The largest sum that we have received in this manner has been $30,000 through the will of Mr. Edward Austin, of Boston. Mr. Austin’s case is another one which shows, as I have already mentioned, that one should try to cultivate the habit of doing his duty to the full extent each day and not worry over results.
I remember that the first time I saw Mr. Austin was about the year 1885 when the late Dr. W. I. Bowditch, of Boston, gave me a letter to him. At that time Mr. Austin gave me his check for $50, but gave nothing between 1885 and 1896 and seemed to take little interest in the school, in fact I had supposed that he had forgotten all about us. I tried on several occasions to get another audience with him but did not succeed. In 1896, while in Boston, I was very much surprised to receive an invitation from Mr. Austin to call at his home. He was then very feeble, being over ninety years of age, but he told me that he had remembered us in his will, and that as it would not be possible for him to live much longer, we would likely come into possession of the money within a reasonably short time, which proved to be true.
On another occasion, I walked a long distance out into the country during a cold winter day, to see a gentleman who lived near Stamford, Conn. (More than once, I was rather inclined to blame myself for exposing my body to the cold on what might prove a fruitless journey.) When I arrived at the gentleman’s house rather late in the evening, he gave me, after considerable hesitation, a small check, but did not seem to take a great deal of interest in the school. The following year, however, I succeeded in obtaining from him a check for a somewhat larger amount. His interest, however, continued to grow from year to year, so that in 1891 he surprised us all by sending a check for $10,000. Up to that time this was the largest single gift in cash that the institution had ever received, and my readers can well imagine that the receipt of this large sum caused a day of general rejoicing on the grounds at Tuskegee.
I have referred already to the gift of $400 from a friend who helped us when we were in an embarrassing position. I might add that the following year this same friend sent us a check for $3,000, and since that time she and her sister have given regularly to us $3,000 each year. These two friends have done as much, if not more, to keep the institution on a firm footing than any one else that I know of.
I have had, in my eighteen years of experience in collecting money for the Tuskegee Institute, some very interesting episodes. On the whole, collecting money is hard, disagreeable, wearing work, but there are some compensations that come from it. In the first place, it brings one into contact with some of the best people in the world, as well as some of the meanest and most narrow ones. Very often, when I have been in the North seeking money, I have found myself completely without cash. I remember one time while in Providence, R. I., that when I had spent all the money I had and was still without breakfast, in crossing the streets I found twenty-five cents near the sidewalk. With this I bought my breakfast, and with the added strength and courage which that breakfast gave me, I went in quest of donations for Tuskegee, and was soon rewarded by several large gifts.
As an example of the way in which I have used my time from year to year, there have been many occasions when I have slept in three different beds in one night, while traveling through different portions of the country. I give here a portion of a schedule which I followed on a recent lecture tour in the West. This will enable my readers to judge whether or not to speak from night to night is the easy job that many people take it to be:
I spoke at Mt. Vernon, Iowa, January 19, 1900, 8 P.M., then took the 11 o’clock train for Cedar Rapids, where I arrived in about twenty-five minutes. Laid over in Cedar Rapids until 3:15 o’clock, A.M., then took the Burlington, Cedar Rapids & Northern railway for Columbus Junction, where I arrived about 5 o’clock in the morning, remaining in Columbus Junction until about 8 o’clock, when I took the Chicago, Rock Island & Pacific railway for Centerville, Iowa where I arrived at 12:37, January 20, much fatigued and worn out from the long journey over three different railroads. At 8 o’clock I again spoke, and at 12:18 A.M. again took the train for Chicago, where I was billed to speak twice the same day, and on the following morning I took the train for a long journey westward, finally ending in Denver, and in returning stopped off at Omaha and other places, and I then discovered that another month had come.
During 1892 I was asked by Rev. Lyman Abbott, D. D., editor of the Outlook, to write an article for his paper which would let the country know the exact condition and needs of the Negro ministry in the South. In this article I told as fully and frankly as I could just what the condition of the ministry was mentally, morally and religiously. A very large proportion of the colored ministers throughout the country became greatly incensed at what I said, feeling that I had injured the Negro ministry very materially by my plain language. For almost a year after this article was written scarcely a Negro conference or association assembled in any part of the country that did not proceed to pass resolutions condemning me and the article which I had written. This went on for some time but I was determined not to in any way yield the position which I had taken, for the reason that I knew that I was right and had spoken the truth. At the time when the discussion and condemnation of myself were at the highest pitch, the late Bishop D. A. Payne, of the A. M. E. Church, wrote a letter endorsing all the statements which I had made, and adding on his own account that I had not told the whole truth. This of course added fresh fuel to the flames and the Bishop for several months came in for his share of the condemnation.
At the present time, after the lapse of eight years, I feel that the institution at Tuskegee and myself personally have no warmer friends than we have in the Negro ministers. Almost without exception at the present time they acknowledge that the article which I wrote has done the whole body of ministers a great deal of good; that bishops and other church officers were made to realize the importance of not only purifying the ministry as far as possible but demanding a higher standard in the pulpit so far as mental education was concerned. I scarcely ever go anywhere without receiving the thanks of ministers for my plain talk. They feel that they are greatly indebted to me for much of the improvement that has taken place within recent years. Of course when it is considered that at the time I wrote this article a very small proportion of the colored ministers had had an opportunity to secure systematic training that would give them mental strength, moral and religious stamina, it could not have been expected that any large proportion would have been fitted in the highest degree for the office of ministers. The improvement at the present time is constantly going on, and within a few years I believe that the Negro church is going to be quite a different thing from what it has had the reputation of being in the past.
At all times during the discussion and condemnation of myself there was not wanting strong and prominent people in different parts of the country among our own race who stood valiantly and bravely by the position which I had taken. Among them, as leader, was Mr. T. Thomas Fortune, the editor of the New York Age. Mr. Fortune in this matter, as in all other matters where he has considered my position the correct one, has defended and supported me without regard to his personal popularity or unpopularity. While he and I differ and have differed on many important public questions, we have never allowed our differences to mar our personal friendship. In all matters pertaining to the welfare of our race in the South I have always consulted him most freely and frankly. For example, in the preparation of the open letter to the Louisiana State Constitutional Convention, Mr. Fortune and myself sat up nearly one whole night at Tuskegee preparing this letter. I have seldom ever given any public utterances to the country that have not had his criticism and approval. His help and friendship to me in many directions have been most potent in enabling me to accomplish whatever I have been able to do.
In the same class with Mr. Fortune I would put my private secretary, Mr. Emmet J. Scott, who, for a number of years, has been in the closest and most helpful relations to me in all my work. Without his constant and painstaking care it would be impossible for me to perform even a very small part of the labor that I now do. Mr. Scott understands so thoroughly my motives, plans and ambitions that he puts himself into my own position as nearly as it is possible for one individual to put himself into the place of another, and in this way makes himself invaluable not only to me personally but to the institution. Such a man as Mr. Scott I have found exceedingly rare, only once or twice in a lifetime are such people discovered.
There is only one way for an individual to collect money for a worthy institution, as there is only one way for him to succeed in any line of work, and that is to make up his mind to do his duty to the fullest extent and let results take care of themselves.
In the earlier years of the institution I called to see a rich gentleman in New York, who did not even ask me to take a seat, but in a gruff and cold manner handed me two dollars, as if to say, I give you this to get rid of you. Since that time this same individual has given to Tuskegee as much as ten thousand dollars in cash, at one time. In other cases, where I found it impossible to secure an audience, in the early days of this work, I have since been sent for by these same individuals and asked to accept money for the institution. In many cases I have gone to individuals and presented our cause only to receive an insult or the coldest and most discouraging reception. Perhaps the next individual on whom I called would politely and earnestly thank me for calling and giving him an opportunity to make a gift to Tuskegee.
During the early struggles of our work, in many instances, I went to ministers in the North to secure opportunity to speak in their churches, but received “No” for my answer. Often where I have received such answers, I have since received letters from these same ministers urging that I would deliver lectures in their churches and naming large sums of money as compensation for my lectures.
The institution has now reached a point where it conducts all of its affairs on a more strictly cash basis than in its earlier years; in fact, the general policy of the school at present is to undertake no enterprise in the way of improvements until it has the money in hand for such improvements. This policy could not be carried out very well in the early years of the school, when we were so hard pressed for buildings. One thing which I have always thought has helped us a great deal is that we have always made it a point to have the strictest and most approved system of book-keeping in connection with all of our financial transactions. Our books have been at all times open to the inspection of the public. In accounting for our income and expenditures Mr. Logan, our Treasurer, from the first has been of the highest service to the institution. We have never allowed any carelessness in the matter of book-keeping.
I have been often asked by young men how they can succeed in this or that direction. My advice to them is to make up their minds carefully, in the first place, as to what they want to do and then persistently devote themselves to accomplishing that end, letting nothing discourage them. If I may be allowed a little pardonable pride in connection with this statement, I would add, to show how mistaken that Secretary was who attempted to discourage me by telling me that I would not secure enough funds to pay my traveling expenses, that since the institution at Tuskegee was started I have collected myself, or been instrumental in causing others to help me secure, all told, fully $1,000,000 for the permanent plant endowment and the annual expenses of Tuskegee. Were I to attempt to give an account of all the ways and means by which individuals have tried to discourage me since I began at Tuskegee this little book would contain little else than this. I have always found it easy to find people who could tell me how a thing could _not_ be accomplished, but very hard to find those who could tell me how a thing could be accomplished. In my opinion the world is much more interested in finding people who know how to accomplish something than those who merely explain why it is impossible to accomplish certain results.
I have been asked many times how I have succeeded in this thing or in that thing. In most every case I have replied that it has required constant, hard, conscientious work. I consider that there is no permanent success possible without hard and severe effort, coupled with the highest and most praiseworthy aims. Luck, as I have experienced it, is only another name for hard work. Almost any individual can succeed in any legitimate enterprise that he sets his heart upon if he is willing to pay the price, but the price, in most cases, is being willing to toil when others are resting, being willing to work while others are sleeping, being willing to put forth the severest effort when there is no one to see or applaud. It is comparatively easy to find people who are willing to work when the world is looking on and ready to give applause, but very hard to find those who are willing to work in the corner or at midnight when there is no watchful eye or anyone to give applause.
I end this volume as I began, with an apology for writing it. It is always highly distasteful to me to speak about myself and in writing what I have, I have attempted in a small degree, at least, to subdue my own personal feeling with a view of giving the public as much information as possible, and I hope that some permanent good will result from my effort.