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
[Illustration:
Principal Washington. Gov. Johnson. Pres. McKinley.
PRESIDENT MCKINLEY AND PARTY WATCHING THE PARADE.]
[Illustration: SCIENCE HALL, ERECTED BY STUDENTS AT TUSKEGEE NORMAL AND
INDUSTRIAL INSTITUTE.]
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.