THE ERA OF FREEDOM--REALISING THAT KNOWLEDGE IS POWER
The great, long-looked-for and ardently-prayed-for day of freedom had
come at last, and probably one of the things which Booker Washington
remembers is the kiss which his mother gave him after listening to the
reading of President Lincoln's Proclamation, and to which the Southern
leaders were compelled to yield when the pressure of the Northern army
became too great to be longer resisted. In common justice to the
Southern planters, we have to remember that the crisis may have meant
little if anything short of actual ruin. The human chattels, as slaves
were often called, were not seldom very valuable bargains in the open
market. A sum of 3000 dollars in gold was once offered for the ex-slave
friend to whom reference has been made, and was at once refused by his
owner. It can well be believed that one who has developed such a gift
for organisation as Booker Washington would have commanded a much higher
figure, although such prices were, of course, far in advance of the
average.
It might also be said that the planters were not responsible for slavery
having become an institution of the Republic, and that they had to do
with things as they found them. But while this may be true, it has also
to be admitted that the Southern States retained that institution longer
than their neighbours. At the end of the century in which the Republic
secured its independence there were under 900,000 slaves in the whole of
the United States; but the total was nearly 4,000,000 in the year of
emancipation. The Northern States had already liberated their slaves in
a gradual way about a quarter of a century before that crisis. For
generations slavery had been denounced as a wrong, amounting to a great
evil, by a number of chief men among the Republican leaders, such as
Franklin and Washington, Madison and Jefferson, and others. These men
were sufficiently outspoken to regard the thing as being quite out of
keeping with the principles of the Declaration of Independence.
Nevertheless, differences of opinion over this matter not only led to
violent controversy but to religious division, the most notable split
being that of the Episcopal Methodist Church, which henceforth had its
Northern and Southern sections, the latter being founded on a
pro-slavery basis.
Young as he was when the great revolution of complete abolition in the
Southern States was brought about, Booker Washington was still able to
show a child's keenest interest in what was taking place. It was as if
the sun had risen on new times altogether; the very winds seemed to blow
more cheerfully; the sky above seemed to be bright with promise with
better things to come than mere _niggers_ had ever known before; it was
as though the Golden Age itself had dawned. The sharp-witted little son
of the slave-girl could heartily enter into his mother's joy, but he
could not take in the meaning of the things that were happening as he
has been able to understand them since. Such a child was naturally
affected by the growing boldness and enthusiasm of his elders, who for
some time before the final catastrophe clearly anticipated what the end
would be. When they gathered at their nocturnal meetings there was
unwonted light in their eyes; a spirit of hope and cheerfulness such as
they had never known before gave new life to their hymns, which had too
often been sad or weird; their feelings became irrepressible. There were
signs and tokens of various kinds which the working slaves well
understood, whatever this child of a slave-mother may have made of them.
There was something in the air which told that something uncommon was
coming--"a sound of going in the tops of the mulberry trees," as it
were, which betokened that the great day of freedom had come. Straggling
soldiers, who had broken away from the Confederate Army, had a doleful
story to tell of disaster and collapse. Then, besides, the inmates of
the great house were thinking of how best they could secure their
valuables if the invaders actually came. Then, on the first Sunday of
April 1865, the catastrophe may be said to have really come. On that day
vast quantities of stores were burned at Richmond; during the night many
a slave-owner stole away, and in the early morning numbers who had been
slaves found themselves no longer in bondage when they greeted the
regiments of the Northern Army.
Booker Washington testifies to the wild excess of joy with which the
slaves on all the plantations accepted the freedom which had come to
them in this remarkable, but no doubt providential, way. For the moment
they took no account of the future; they were altogether intoxicated
while trying to estimate the reality of that new condition in which they
found themselves--that inestimable blessing about which their
forefathers had prayed through long and weary generations. The thing
seemed to be too good to be true, and yet it was actually with them--it
was their own blissful possession!
Then, as was inevitable, human nature being what it is, there came a
somewhat strong reaction to this outburst of feeling and irrepressible
excitement. What about the future? Practically, a whole nation of
something like 4,000,000 persons had suddenly been set free, severed
from their employment and their masters, who in their way had looked
after them. Those masters had been sorely reduced by the war; many
members of the great houses had been killed or wounded. What was to
become of those millions of coloured people who had never come in
contact with the outer world, who, with a few exceptions, were quite
illiterate and knew nothing of the outside world? No wonder that a
certain amount of gloom and misgiving soon took the place of that
exuberance of joy which the sense of freedom had at first inspired. The
crisis was sufficiently serious for those who were young and strong, but
what was to become of the aged or those who were worn out in the hard
service of the plantations?
Probably the gloom which now overtook so many of the coloured people was
as exaggerated as their wild ideas about their good fortune when
freedom first came to them. These coloured folk were apt to run into
extremes. Booker Washington well remembers them in both moods; and he
also can call to mind how they came to see that, after all, liberty was
an inheritance of sterling worth when it was fairly estimated. One
advantage of the new-found freedom consisted in possessing the right to
choose a respectable surname; and another gain was the right, if they
felt so disposed, to leave the old haunts and, in some measure, to look
round the outside world. Otherwise, they could hardly tell how it might
feel to be free. As is the case with agricultural labourers in general,
these poor coloured slave folk, with whom Booker Washington was
acquainted, had never been far afield from the place of their birth,
and, having seen so little of the world, they found that the world was a
wide place and, in some respects, different from what they had expected.
Of course, a large number were glad to return to the plantations and to
agree with their old employers to work as labourers. In choosing their
new names, the ex-slaves showed some good taste as well as ambition.
Having the patronymic list of presidents, statesmen, soldiers and others
to select from, they bedecked themselves in becoming style, not
forgetting a middle and, apparently, an initial letter, which usually
did not represent a name at all, but, as showing the American manner,
was still indispensable. Even in the case of the distinguished negro, an
account of whose life and work is given in this volume, he had no such
name as Booker T. Washington while he remained in a state of slavery; he
chose it for himself after he became free, and all must admit that he
made a good selection.
Mrs Washington--as by courtesy she may be called--did not return to the
fields after gaining her freedom, as was the case with so many of her
old companions. Circumstances led to her removal to Malden, in West
Virginia, and which is also in the suburbs of Charleston. Still being
quite a young lad, Booker Washington accompanied his mother, as did also
his brother John, the object being to join their mother's husband--the
man being only their stepfather--who was then employed in the salt
industry.
Notwithstanding that all were now free, the temporal prosperity of the
family so far showed no improvement. Amid the huts and furnaces of the
salt-producing little town there was even less comfort, and far more
repulsive squalor, than there had been on the plantation among
fellow-slaves. Being a mixture of coloured and white people, the main
part were a degraded set; so that, after all the toil and rough
adventure of some weeks of travelling, the wonder is that the future
benefactor of his race was not utterly demoralised amid his new
surroundings. Perhaps it turned out to his advantage that he had to work
hard through very long days.
Ever since the time that he began to think about anything, Booker
Washington had been inspired by a very strong desire to learn to read.
He resolved that, come what might, he would, if possible, so far
distinguish himself as to become competent to read the periodicals and
newspapers of the day. This was a very praiseworthy resolution to make,
but to ordinary persons how utterly impossible of attainment it must
have seemed when all things were against them. By a roundabout way he so
far advanced as to be able to understand what certain figures on a
salt-barrel meant; but he had not even a primer or spelling-book until,
on being earnestly requested to do so, his mother was successful in her
strenuous endeavours to obtain one. In the whole circle of his coloured
acquaintance the ex-slave child knew of no individual who could read,
his mother being no exception. This fact, however, seems to have the
effect of bringing out in bolder outline the sterling traits of this
negro woman's character. She was evidently uncommonly shrewd in worldly
matters, and, instead of advising her child not to attempt what might
well have seemed to be impossibilities, she showed that wholesome
ambition for the boy's future which proved her to be of a superior
nature, while she was a genuine, loving mother. We may be sure that
Booker Washington inherited his gifts and indomitable perseverance from
his mother. A long line of distinguished men have borne similar
testimony. Men who have lived and laboured for the benefit of others
have been, in very many instances, what their mothers made them.
Having obtained his spelling-book, Booker Washington commenced his
education without a teacher, the consequence being that he was occupied
for some weeks in overcoming the difficulties of the alphabet, which,
under the most favourable conditions, would have detained him but a few
hours. In due course he made more rapid progress under the teaching of a
negro boy who had the rare distinction of being able to read a printed
page; and, as was quite natural, such an example of literary attainments
in youth was no less envied than admired.
Then something else occurred which cannot fail to strike us as being
almost a phenomenon--at all events, a thing altogether extraordinary
under the circumstances. What, through the vista of a third of a
century, looks like a perfect _furore_ for education took complete
possession of the ex-slaves, and, what made this the more singular, the
burning desire for school teaching extended to aspirants of all ages.
Before philanthropists came forward to help them the coloured people
were found to have their own appointed tutor, and care was taken that he
should fare well. Thus, in the case of Booker Washington, the first
comparatively competent teacher with whom he came in contact was a
quondam soldier who had served in the war. Surely no tutor ever had more
enthusiastic pupils; and whether the age of the learner was seven or
seventy-five, it seemed to make no difference in damping their
enthusiasm. Indeed, it may be seriously questioned whether any other
race of people would ever have rivalled this extraordinary ardour in
learning to read. And circumstances made it necessary that even the
Sunday schools, in common with the day schools, should, first of all,
give the most elementary of teaching. What a contrast such a state of
things presents to anything of the kind with which we are familiar in
connection with any other country! How many there are who remain
illiterate, or semi-illiterate, in spite of the schools which are
provided and admirably equipped under any national system of education!
In their darkest days of ignorance and bondage the negro slaves showed
the most lively desire for education. In what measure is that true of
any other race? We know that through a long succession of centuries our
own peasantry remained, for the most part, quite illiterate, all the
while showing a kind of sullen content or stolid indifference. That
negroes should show other characteristics should inspire the
encouragement coming from the hope that they are destined for better
things than have usually entered into the calculations of American
politicians. It is because Booker Washington so thoroughly well
understands his race that he can harbour such bright hopes of their
future, provided that common-sense means are used to train and educate
them, so as to give them an opportunity of making the best possible use
of their capacities. He is quite an ingenuous man, who says just what he
thinks, and who would never think of aiming at the impracticable. What
may at first have seemed to be quite a Utopian enterprise to quidnuncs
in American social and political circles is to him a very ordinary
business. He has solved what has been to others a dark problem, because
he has failed to see that there was any problem which needed solution.
He sees in the labour of the millions of negroes who people the Southern
States a source of vast national wealth. Only turn this to good account
and the whole country will be benefited and enriched, while the
descendants of the ex-slaves themselves will remain contented and good
citizens. To carry out this idea is certainly one of the greatest of
enterprises to which social reformers in the New World have ever set
their hand.
When a school was established and a supposed competent tutor was
appointed, Booker Washington did not find that his course had ceased to
be a pursuit of knowledge under difficulties. His mother and stepmother
were so poor that it was not thought that his services at the salt works
could be altogether dispensed with in order that he might attend school.
Then a kind of compromise was made, and without the work being entirely
suspended, he was allowed to pass some portion of each day at the
school. Having thus risen to this respectable standing, he found it
desirable to wear a cap which his mother made for him; for it would seem
that a Virginian planter no more thought of providing such head-dress
for boy slaves than he would of clothing his colts or calves. It was
then, moreover, that he gave himself the name which he has ever since
retained and honoured. He had been called Booker as a child-slave; for
some reason his mother had added Taliaferro, but the final Washington
was a becoming euphonism of his own.
With so much manual labour to be done, the difficulties in the way of
education were continually becoming intensified. Soon it became
impossible to continue in attendance at the day school, and he had to be
content with attending an evening class after completing the day's toil.
Under the most favourable circumstances this was exhausting; and his
experience proved still more trying when he was removed from the salt
works to serve in a coal mine, which supplied the furnaces with fuel.
Booker Washington has very vivid recollections of the horrors and even
constant dangers attending such subterranean work. The darkness alone
was almost such as might be felt; and the mishaps, through taking a
wrong path, through falling coal, or a candle getting extinguished, were
ever threatening those engaged in the works. It was in such an
atmosphere and amid such surroundings, however, that the dawn of a new
era sent its beams across his chequered pathway. It was there that he
heard for the first time of the Hampton Normal and Agricultural
Institute, which was destined to shape for him his life-course. The
institution in question is near to the small town and bathing resort of
Hampton, in Virginia, and the channel, commanded by Fortress Monroe, was
the scene of some lively naval fights during the Civil War. The
institution was founded in 1868 by General S. C. Armstrong, and two
years later was incorporated by the State of Virginia. Its object is
stated to be "to train young men and women of the negro and Indian races
to become teachers among their own people." Booker Washington happened
to overhear two men in the coal mine conversing together about this
school, and he resolved to find out everything possible about it. The
revelation had for him something more than passing interest; strange new
hopes had been kindled in his soul. If he had asked, Who was Samuel
Chapman Armstrong? he might have learned that he was an officer who had
served in the Civil War, and that he was born in the Hawaiian Islands in
1839. The General was a genuine, warm-hearted friend of the coloured
races, and as he became to Booker Washington an exemplar, or even
something like an apostle, who did more than any other human teacher to
mark out his pathway of life, some reference may be made to the
pressing needs of the freed negroes in the years which immediately
followed the close of the Civil War. There are now some ten million
coloured people in the Southern States, but at the time in question
there were less than half of this number. Nevertheless, the crisis was
sufficiently serious to be even alarming. Thus a contemporary writer
says:--
"Such sudden emancipation, on so vast a scale, is unequalled in the
annals of history. The nearest parallel to it is the deliverance of the
Israelites from Egyptian bondage. A nation, numbering about two
millions, was then suddenly emancipated. But as for their sustenance and
preservation a succession of miracles took place, it is not necessary
for our present purpose to pursue the parallel. No instance in secular
history equals the present position of the freed negroes of North
America. The crisis has come in a manner and at a time that could hardly
have been anticipated by the wisest forecaster of political events."
Great as was the need for earnest effort after hostilities ceased,
however, the want and suffering had been far more acute in days that had
gone before. The contemporary writer just quoted adds:--
"From the very beginning of the war hundreds have suddenly poured in, as
at an hour's notice, upon the cities of the Northern States. One of the
camps was inundated by a thousand of these naked and starving fugitives
in a single day, and this whilst the snow was coldly and silently
covering the surrounding landscape. After the Federals had gained
possession of Memphis, there speedily turned into it a long train of
negroes, so miserably destitute that, having nothing whatever with them
of food or clothing but the rags of two or three years' wear, and only
the clouds and the trees to shelter them, these human multitudes were
far worse off than the comfortably-kennelled dogs of their white
brethren. When General Sherman passed through Georgia, he was asked how
many negroes had followed his army. The reply was, 'Ten miles of them.'"
Charitable and Christian people were moved to do what lay in their power
not only to relieve present sufferings, but to enable the coloured folk
to make a new start in the world. Associations were formed, money was
collected, even the Government took care that rations should be
distributed. The result was that the outlook soon showed signs of
improvement. At one time Levi Coffin of Cincinnati reported that there
were thirty-five camps in the Mississippi Valley which contained about
650,000 coloured fugitives, but these camps soon became self-supporting.
The more acute want and suffering were soon relieved, but it soon became
more and more apparent that service of a more permanent kind would have
to be undertaken if the coloured people were to be raised from the low
condition into which slavery had reduced them. People of the shrewder
sort clearly saw that great results might be expected from education and
industrial training. Although the prevailing ignorance was of the
densest kind, all were most anxious to learn. Wherever a camp appeared
it was certain that schools would speedily follow; and in what must
have appeared an incredibly short space of time no less than 250 schools
were established in that Mississippi Valley alone. The contemporary
anonymous writer in the _Leisure Hour_ who has already been quoted, and
who appears to have been thoroughly well acquainted with the negroes'
characteristics and condition in their transition state, adds this
word-picture of the general outlook at the time to which reference is
being made:--
"They are most anxious to be taught, and most docile under direction.
Their ignorance previously was universal and extreme. It is no wonder
that their religious camp-meetings had become associated with the most
grotesque ideas and narrations. It is no wonder that their phraseology
was a caricature of civilised language. For how could they be expected
to manifest intelligence without any education? So deplorably destitute
of instruction were they that very few even of their preachers could
read the simplest words. Old men amongst them who had preached the
Gospel to their black congregations for upwards of forty years, were
found totally ignorant of the alphabet, and, of course, had never read a
verse of Scripture. How could the Sermons, the prayers and the religious
ideas of such 'pastors' be other than grievously deficient?"
When the depressed conditions under which these coloured people had
previously lived were duly taken into account, the most wonderful thing
of all was seen in the rapid strides they made in the betterment of
their temporal condition or outward surroundings. The days no longer
passed in dull or even painful monotony. Labour, which had hitherto been
to them hard bondage, not easy to bear, had become a privilege and a
pleasure. Having survived the too exaggerated notions of what the new
era might mean for them, and the inevitable reaction of disappointment
which followed, they could now take stock of life and realise that they
had been enormous gainers by at last coming into that inheritance for
which their forefathers had so earnestly longed and prayed. The
responsibilities, and even the commonplace things associated with
freedom, were intensely prized. In contrast with the loose and
demoralising customs which had been characteristic of slave-worked
plantations, marriage became a bond not to be dissolved. Now that they
were becoming able to read it for themselves, the Bible became a prized
book, which the negroes regarded as being peculiarly their own. So far
from disappointing those who sought to aid them, now that their
ex-owners, the planters, were so greatly impoverished, or even ruined,
the negroes surprised their friends by the readiness with which they
adapted themselves to their new life. The way in which habits of
industry and economy were formed struck observers with peculiar force,
as being an exceedingly hopeful sign. Nor did the freer air, which they
now breathed, in any measure weaken those Christian ties which had held
them together in their days of bondage. Their religious meetings were
well maintained, but of course under happier conditions. The sad or even
strangely weird songs which had been sung by night with bated breath, as
it were, in the slave-cabins could now be superseded by more cheerful
hymns. The former had been the natural expression of bond-slaves, to
whom life on earth was without hope; at last they were able to sing the
triumphant note of freemen. He was a very representative member of the
negro race who at that time remarked to a friend, "I'se afeard I'll work
myself to death now. I'se so glad to work for myself and the family that
I can't stop nohow." Even in the United States, where towns and large
communities have often risen rapidly in what had but just before been
the wilderness, this new reformation, which the negroes now proved
themselves to be capable of keeping pace with, must have struck many
observers as a phenomenon for which they had hardly been prepared.
Schoolhouses and churches, as well as cottages, which were a grateful
contrast to the squalid cabins of the plantations, were in many
instances supplemented by savings banks. At the same time a disposition
towards self-reliance showed itself, which led the main body, whenever
possible, to keep aloof from the alms-houses, in which pauper poor were
sheltered, by working hard and bravely to support themselves and their
households.
While this transition age was in progress, Booker Washington was growing
up apace. He had been fortunate enough to sever his connection with the
Malden salt-furnaces and their squalid and immoral surroundings, and,
what was still better, he had escaped from the coal mine never to
return, and had found more genial employment in the household of a
military officer and his wife. He now worked more ardently than ever
towards the Hampton Institute.