THE MAN FARTHEST DOWN
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
UP FROM SLAVERY: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY
THE STORY OF THE NEGRO
WORKING WITH THE HANDS
CHARACTER BUILDING
MY LARGER EDUCATION
THE MAN
FARTHEST DOWN
A RECORD OF OBSERVATION AND
STUDY IN EUROPE
BY
BOOKER T. WASHINGTON
WITH THE COLLABORATION OF
ROBERT E. PARK
[Illustration: Logo]
GARDEN CITY NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1912
_Copyright, 1911, by_
THE OUTLOOK COMPANY
_Copyright, 1912, by_
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
_All rights reserved, including that of
translation into foreign languages,
including the Scandinavian_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Hunting the Man Farthest Down 3
II. The Man at the Bottom in London 21
III. From Petticoat Lane to Skibo Castle 37
IV. First Impression of Life and Labour on the Continent 53
V. Politics and Races 70
VI. Strikes and Farm Labour in Italy and Hungary 86
VII. Naples and the Land of the Emigrant 105
VIII. The Labourer and the Land in Sicily 124
IX. Women and the Wine Harvest in Sicily 148
X. The Church, the People and the Mafia 166
XI. Child Labour and the Sulphur Mines 192
XII. Fiume, Budapest and the Immigrant 217
XIII. Cracow and the Polish Jew 240
XIV. A Polish Village in the Mountains 264
XV. A Russian Border Village 276
XVI. The Women Who Work in Europe 296
XVII. The Organization of Country Life in Denmark 319
XVIII. Reconstructing the Life of the Labourer in London 341
XIX. John Burns and the Man Farthest Down in London 360
XX. The Future of the Man Farthest Down 377
The Man Farthest Down
CHAPTER I
HUNTING THE MAN FARTHEST DOWN
On the 20th of August, 1910, I sailed from New York City for Liverpool,
England. I had been given a leave of absence of two months from my work
at Tuskegee, on condition that I would spend that time in some way that
would give me recreation and rest.
Now I have found that about the only comfortable and satisfactory
way for me to rest is to find some new kind of work or occupation.
I determined therefore to carry out a plan I had long had in mind
of making myself acquainted with the condition of the poorer and
working classes in Europe, particularly in those regions from which an
ever-increasing number of immigrants are coming to our country each
year.
There have been a number of efforts made in recent years to divert a
portion of this immigration to the Southern States, and these efforts
have been the source of wide differences of opinion in the South. Some
people have contended that in these immigrants the Southern people
would eventually find a substitute for the Negro labourer and that in
this direction a solution for the race problem would be found. In some
parts of the South, in fact, the experiment of using immigrants from
Europe to take the place of the Negro on the sugar plantations and in
the cotton fields has been tried. Naturally I have been interested in
these experiments and as a consequence in the peoples with whom the
experiments have been tried.
The best way to get acquainted with an individual, or with a people,
according to my experience, is to visit them at their work and in their
homes, and in this way find out what is back of them.
So it was that I determined to make use of my stay in Europe to visit
the people in their homes, to talk with them at their work, and to find
out everything I could, not only in regard to their present situation,
but also in regard to their future prospects, opportunities, hopes, and
ambitions.
I was curious, for one thing, to learn why it was that so many of these
European people were leaving the countries in which they were born
and reared, in order to seek their fortunes in a new country and among
strangers in a distant part of the world, and to this question I think
I may say that I have found, in a general way, an answer. One general
fact, at any rate, in regard to this matter of emigration, I may,
perhaps, without attempting to go into details, mention here at the
outset. It is this:
The majority of the people who reach this country as immigrants from
Europe are, as one might expect, from the farming regions. They are
farm labourers or tenant farmers. Now there exists, as I discovered,
a very definite relation between the condition of agriculture and the
agricultural peoples in Europe and the extent of emigration to this
country. In other words, wherever in any part of Europe I found the
condition of agriculture and the situation of the farm labourers at
their worst, there I almost invariably found emigration at the highest.
On the other hand, wherever I visited a part of the country where
emigration had, in recent years, decreased, there I quite as invariably
found that the situation of the man on the soil had improved.
What interested me still more was the fact that this improvement had
been, to a very large extent, brought about through the influence of
schools. Agricultural education has stimulated an intensive culture of
the soil; this in turn has helped to multiply the number of small land
owners and stimulate the organization of agriculture; the resulting
prosperity has made itself felt not only in the country but in the
cities. For example, I found that where the people were prosperous and
contented in the country, there were fewer idle, discontented, starving
and criminal people in the cities. It is just as true of the poorer and
labouring classes in Europe as it is of the Negro in the South: that
most of the problems that arise in the cities have their roots in the
country.
Another matter in regard to which I hoped to get some first-hand
information during my stay abroad was what I may call the European,
as distinguished from the American, race problem. I knew that in the
south of Europe a number of races of widely different origin and
characteristics had been thrown together in close contact and in large
numbers, and I suspected that in this whirlpool of contending races
and classes I should find problems--race problems and educational
problems--different, to be sure, but quite as complicated, difficult
and interesting as in our own country.
While every race and every nation must solve its own problems in its
own way, and for that reason it is not possible to make any very
extended comparison between the race problems of Europe and of America,
there is, at least, a certain advantage in knowing that other nations
and other peoples have problems within their national life which are
quite as difficult and perplexing as our own.
We sometimes think and speak of the conditions existing in our own
country as if they were wholly exceptional and without parallel in
other parts of the world. My stay in Europe has convinced me that
we are not worse off in America in this respect than other peoples.
Even if they had the choice, I do not believe, for instance, that the
Southern people, black or white, would be willing to exchange their own
troubles, such as they are, for those of any other nation or group of
people in Europe or elsewhere.
There was another thing that made the trip I had outlined peculiarly
attractive to me: I believed that I would find in some parts of Europe
peoples who in respect to education, opportunity, and civilization
generally were much nearer the level of the masses of the Negro people
in the South than I was likely to find anywhere in America. I believed,
also, that if I went far enough and deep enough I should find even in
Europe great numbers of people who, in their homes, in their labour,
and in their manner of living, were little, if any, in advance of the
Negroes in the Southern States, and I wanted to study at first hand,
as far as I was able, the methods which European nations were using to
uplift the masses of the people who were at the bottom in the scale of
civilization.
In view of the rather elaborate plan I have sketched, I am certain that
some of my readers will wonder how I expected to be able, in the eight
weeks to which my vacation was limited, to cover all the ground or get
any definite or satisfactory notions in regard to the special matters
which interested me in the places I proposed to visit. It seems to me,
therefore, that I ought to say something, by way of explanation and
introduction, as to just how this journey was made and in regard to the
manner in which the impressions and facts which make up the remainder
of this book were obtained.
In the first place, it should be remembered that I was looking in all
the different countries I visited for one class of facts and seeking to
make myself familiar with merely one phase of life. During the whole
course of this journey, therefore, I kept myself religiously from the
temptation that was constantly offered to look at anything, however
important and interesting, that did not concern itself with the
purpose of my journey.
In the second place, I found that, while there were great differences
to be observed in the condition of the different peoples whom I
visited, there were, also, many broad similarities. I found, for example,
that what I learned in London was very useful and valuable to me, by
way of comparison, in studying and observing what I wanted to see in
Copenhagen and in Denmark. I found that the things I observed among the
peasants of Italy were a great help to me when I reached Austria and
was able to compare the conditions of the farming population in these
two different countries. The result was that the farther I went and
the more familiar I became with the general situation of the labouring
classes, the more I gained in insight and understanding of all that I
saw.
In fact I am convinced that if there is anything of special value in
the studies and observations that I have set down in this book it will
be found, not so much in the facts themselves, as in the attempt to
bring them together into a single point of view.
One of the first things I learned in Europe was the difficulty of
meeting the ordinary man and seeing and getting acquainted with the
matters of everyday life. I soon discovered that the most difficult
things to see are not the sights that every one goes to look at, but
the commonplace things that no one sees. In order to carry out the plan
I had in mind it was necessary for me to leave the ordinary beaten
track of European travel and to plunge into regions which have not been
charted and mapped, and where ordinary guides and guide-books are of
little or no avail.
As a matter of fact, I found less difficulty in this respect in London
than I did on the Continent, where it seemed to me that railways,
guides, guide-books, and the friends I met on the way were in a
conspiracy to compel me to see the things I did not want to see, and to
prevent me from seeing all the things that I did want to see.
For example, I had registered a firm resolution, before I sailed from
America, that if I could prevent it I would not enter a single palace,
museum, gallery, or cathedral. I succeeded partly in living up to this
resolution. When I reached Cracow in Poland, however, my fate overtook
me. I had heard a great deal of the ancient salt mines of Wieliczka. I
knew that in many places women were employed side by side with the men
in loading and carrying out the products of the mines, and for this
reason, and because I had myself at one time been a miner in America,
I was very anxious to see how the work was carried on in Europe.
The salt mines are about ten miles from Cracow, and in order to reach
them I found it necessary to take a carriage. At the entrance to the
mines I was surprised to find a large number of sightseers waiting
to go down in the shaft, and a dark suspicion crossed my mind that I
had made a mistake. My worst suspicions were confirmed when, after
descending some two or three hundred feet below the surface, I found
myself suddenly ushered into an ancient underground chapel. The place
was beautifully lighted and decorated with glistening figures which had
been hewn from solid blocks of salt by the pious miners who had worked
in these mines some three or four hundred years before.
From this chapel we again descended, through a dark, damp passageway,
into still another and then another large, elaborately decorated and
brilliantly lighted chapel. In one of these we ran upon a great crowd
of several hundred people carrying lighted torches and accompanied by
a brass band. They were peasants who were making an annual pilgrimage
to the mine for the purpose of visiting the underground chapels, which
have acquired a wide fame in the surrounding country.
For two or three hours we wandered on from one large chamber to
another, going deeper and deeper into the mine, but never coming, as
near as I could see, any nearer to the miners. Finally it began to dawn
upon me that, so far from being in an actual salt mine, I was really
in a sort of underground museum. There were chapels and monuments and
crowds of people in holiday attire; there were lights and music and
paper lanterns, but there was nothing that would in any way remind you
of the actual daily life of the miners that I had come there to see;
in fact, the only miners with whom I came in contact were those who
acted as guides or played in the band. It was all very strange and very
interesting, and there was, I learned, no possible means of escape.
From what I have already said I fear that some of my readers will feel,
as a great many people whom I met abroad did, that in my journey across
Europe I must have gained a very unfortunate and one-sided view of the
countries and the peoples I visited. It will seem to them, perhaps,
that I was looking for everything that was commonplace or bad in the
countries I visited, and avoiding everything that was extraordinary or
in any way worth looking at. My only excuse is that I was, in fact,
not looking for the best, but for the worst; I was hunting for the man
farthest down.
Most people who travel in Europe seem to me to be chiefly interested
in two sorts of things: They want to see what is old, and they want to
see what is dead. The regular routes of travel run through palaces,
museums, art galleries, ancient ruins, monuments, churches, and
graveyards.
I have never been greatly interested in the past, for the past is
something that you cannot change. I like the new, the unfinished and
the problematic. My experience is that the man who is interested in
living things must seek them in the grime and dirt of everyday life.
To be sure, the things one sees there are not always pleasant, but the
people one meets are interesting, and if they are sometimes among the
worst they are also frequently among the best people in the world. At
any rate, wherever there is struggle and effort there is life.
I have referred to the way in which I tried and, to a reasonable
extent, succeeded in confining my observations to a certain definite
point of view. Aside from this I had certain other advantages upon this
expedition in finding what I wanted to see and avoiding the things
I did not want to see, without which I certainly could neither have
covered the ground I did, nor have found my way to so many things that
had for me special and peculiar interest. Some years ago I made the
acquaintance, in Boston, of Dr. Robert E. Park, who has for some time
past assisted me in my work at Tuskegee. At the time I first met him
Doctor Park was interested in the movement to bring about a reform of
the conditions then existing in the Congo Free State in Africa; in
fact, he was at that time secretary of the Congo Reform Association,
and it was through his efforts to interest me in that movement that
I came to know him. He had a notion, as he explained to me, that the
conditions of the natives in the Congo, as well as in other parts
of Africa, could not be permanently improved only through a system
of education, somewhat similar to that at Hampton and Tuskegee. The
Congo Reform Association, as he explained, was engaged in a work of
destruction, but what interested him chiefly was what should be done in
the way of construction or reconstruction after the work of destruction
was completed. We had frequent conversations upon the subject, and it
was in this way that he finally became interested in the work that was
being done for the Negro in the Southern States. Since that time he has
spent the larger part of every year in the South, assisting me in my
work at Tuskegee and using the opportunity thus offered to study what
is called the Negro problem. The reason I make this statement here is
because Doctor Park was not only my companion in all of my trip through
Europe, but he also went to Europe some months in advance of me and
thus had an opportunity to study the situation and make it possible
for me to see more in a short space of time than I could otherwise
have been able to do. In this and in other ways he has been largely
responsible for what appears in this book.
For instance, it was Doctor Park who studied out the general plans
and details of our trip. He acted, also, not merely as a companion
but as a guide and interpreter. He assisted me also in getting hold
of the documents and literature in the different countries we visited
which enabled me to correct the impressions I had formed on the spot
and to supplement them with the facts and statistics in regard to the
conditions we had observed.
In several directions Doctor Park was peculiarly fitted for giving me
this sort of assistance. In the first place, during the years he had
been at Tuskegee he had become thoroughly acquainted with conditions in
the Southern States and, in the course of the journey of observation
and study on which he had accompanied me, we had become thoroughly
acquainted with each other, so that he understood not only what I
desired, but what it was important for me to see in Europe.
In the second place, shortly before I met him, Doctor Park had just
returned from four years of study in Europe. He was familiar with
much of the ground we intended to cover and at the same time spoke
the language which was of greatest use in most of the countries we
visited--namely, German.
Two people travelling together can, under any circumstances, see and
learn a great deal more than one. When it comes to travelling in a new
and unfamiliar country this is emphatically true. For this reason a
large part of what I saw and learned about Europe is due directly to
the assistance of Doctor Park. Our method of procedure was about as
follows: When we reached a city or other part of the country which we
wished to study we would usually start out together. I had a notebook
in which I jotted down on the spot what I saw that interested me, and
Doctor Park, who had had experience as a newspaper reporter, used his
eyes and ears. Then in the course of our long stretches of railway
travel we compared notes and comments and sifted, as thoroughly as we
were able, the facts and observations we had been able to gather. Then
as soon as we reached a large city I got hold of a stenographer and
dictated, as fully as I was able, the story of what we had seen and
learned. In doing this I used Doctor Park's observations, I suppose,
quite as much as I did my own. In fact, I do not believe I am able to
say now how much of what I have written is based upon my own personal
observations and what is based upon those of Doctor Park. Thus, it
should be remembered that although this book is written throughout
in the first person it contains the observations of two different
individuals.
In another direction Doctor Park has contributed to make this book what
it is. While I was dictating my own account of our adventures he would
usually spend the time hunting through the book stores and libraries
for any books or information which would throw any light on the matter
in which we were interested. The result was that we returned with
nearly a trunk-ful of books, papers, and letters which we had obtained
in different places and from different people we met. With these
documents Doctor Park then set to work to straighten out and complete
the matter that I had dictated, filling in and adding to what I had
written. The chapters which follow are the result.
I set out from America, as I have said, to find the man farthest down.
In a period of about six weeks I visited parts of England, Scotland,
Germany, Austria-Hungary, Italy, Sicily, Poland, and Denmark. I spent
some time among the poorer classes of London and in several cities in
Austria and Italy. I investigated, to a certain extent, the condition
of the agricultural populations in Sicily, in Bohemia, Poland, and
Denmark. I saw much that was sad and depressing, but I saw much, also,
that was hopeful and inspiring. Bad as conditions are in some places, I
do not think I visited any place where things are not better now than
they were some years ago.
I found also that the connection between Europe and America is much
closer and more intimate than I had imagined. I am sure that very few
persons in this country realize the extent to which America has touched
and influenced the masses of the people in Europe. I think it is safe
to say that no single influence which is to-day tending to change and
raise the condition of the working people in the agricultural regions
of southern Europe is greater than the constant stream of emigration
which is pouring out of Europe into America and back again into Europe.
It should be remembered that not only do large numbers of these people
emigrate to America, but many of these emigrants return and bring with
them not only money to buy lands, but new ideas, higher ambitions, and
a wider outlook on the world.
Everywhere that I went, even in the most distant parts of the country,
where as yet the people have been almost untouched by the influences of
modern civilization, I met men who spoke in broken English, but with
genuine enthusiasm, of America. Once, when I had made a half-day's
journey by rail and wagon into a distant village in Poland, in order
to see something of life in a primitive farming village, I was
enthusiastically welcomed at the country tavern by the proprietor and
two or three other persons, all of whom had lived for some time in
America and were able to speak a little English.
At another time, when I visited the sulphur mines in the mountains of
central Sicily, I was surprised and delighted to encounter, deep down
in one of these mines, several hundred feet below the surface, a man
with whom I was able to speak familiarly about the coal mines of West
Virginia, where each of us, at different times, had been employed in
mine labour.
There seemed to be no part of Europe so distant or so remote that
the legend of America had not penetrated to it; and the influence of
America, of American ideas, is certainly making itself felt in a very
definite way in the lowest strata of European civilization.
The thing that impressed me most, however, was the condition of the
labouring women of Europe. I do not know the statistics, but if I am
permitted to judge by what I saw I should say that three fourths of the
work on the farms, and a considerable part of the heavy work in the
cities of Europe, is performed by women. Not only that, but in the low
life of great cities, like London, it seems to me that the women suffer
more from the evil influences of slum life than the men. In short, if
I may put it that way, the man farthest down in Europe is woman. Women
have the narrowest outlook, do the hardest work, stand in greatest
need of education, and are farthest removed from influences which are
everywhere raising the level of life among the masses of the European
people.