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TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE BLACK BELT
[Illustration: WILLIAM J. EDWARDS]
Twenty-Five Years
in the Black Belt
BY
WILLIAM J. EDWARDS
ILLUSTRATED
THE CORNHILL COMPANY
BOSTON
Copyright, 1918
by
THE CORNHILL COMPANY
TO MY LOVING WIFE WHO ENCOURAGED ME IN ALL MY
EARLY STRUGGLES AND AIDED ME IN
ALL MY ACHIEVEMENTS
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
1. CHILDHOOD DAYS 1
2. SHADOWS 7
3. A RAY OF LIGHT 13
4. LIFE AT TUSKEGEE 18
5. RECONNOITERING 26
6. FOUNDING THE SNOW HILL SCHOOL 35
7. SMALL BEGINNINGS 37
8. CAMPAIGNING FOR FUNDS IN THE NORTH 43
9. RESULTS 49
10. ORIGIN OF THE JEANES FUND 54
11. APPRECIATION 56
12. GRADUATES AND EX-STUDENTS 63
13. THE SOLUTION OF THE NEGRO PROBLEM 77
14. THE GREATEST MENACE OF THE SOUTH 86
15. THE NEGRO EXODUS 94
16. THE NEGRO AND THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF THE SOUTH 100
17. WHERE LIES THE NEGRO'S OPPORTUNITY? 104
18. SCHOOL PROBLEMS OF A TUSKEGEE GRADUATE 109
19. BENEFITS WROUGHT BY HARDSHIPS 115
20. THE NEGRO AND THE WORLD WAR 120
APPENDIX 127
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
WILLIAM J. EDWARDS _Frontispiece_
UNCLE CHARLES LEE AND HIS HOME IN THE BLACK BELT _Facing Page_ 32
FIRST TRUSTEES OF SNOW HILL AND TWO OF THEIR WIVES " " 36
PARTIAL VIEW OF SNOW HILL INSTITUTE " " 48
A NEW TYPE OF HOME IN THE BLACK BELT " " 52
TYPICAL LOG CABIN IN THE BLACK BELT " " 60
HOME OF A SNOW HILL GRADUATE " " 60
GRADUATES OF SNOW HILL INSTITUTE " " 72
TEACHERS OF SNOW HILL INSTITUTE " " 100
PREFACE
In bringing this book before the public, it is my hope that the friends
of the Snow Hill School and all who are interested in Negro Education
may become more familiar with the problems and difficulties that
confront those who labor for the future of a race. I have had to endure
endless hardships during these twenty-five years, in order that
thousands of poor negro youths might receive an industrial
education,--boys and girls who might have gone into that demoralized
class that is a disgrace to any people and that these friends may
continue their interest in not only Snow Hill but all the schools of the
South that are seeking to make better citizens of our people. I also
hope that the interest may be sustained until the State and Nation
realize that it is profitable to educate the black child as well as the
white.
To me, these have been twenty-five years of self denial, of self
sacrifice, of deprivation, even of suffering, but when I think of the
results, I am still encouraged to go on; when I think of the work that
Mr. McDuffie is doing at Laurinburg, N. C., Brown at Richmond, Ala.,
Knight at Evergreen, Ala., Mitchell at W. Butler, Ala., Carmichael at
Perdue Hill, Ala., Brister at Selma, Ala., and hundreds of others, I
feel that the sacrifice has not been in vain, so I continue believing
that after all the great heart of the American people is on the right
side. I think that to-day, the Negro faces the dawn,--not the
twilight,--the morning,--not the evening.
In my passionate desire to hasten that time and with the crying needs of
my race at heart, I choose this opportunity for making an appeal in
their behalf.
"Lord, and what shall this man do?" (John 21.)
Man is a relative being and should be thus considered. The status of my
brother then will always serve as a standard of value by which my own
conduct can be measured; by his standard mine may become either high or
low, broad or narrow, deep or shallow. This is the theory that underlies
all humanitarian work. This is the great dynamic force of the Christian
life.
No question is being asked by the American people more earnestly today
than this one: "Lord, What shall this man, the Negro, do,--this black
man upon whom centuries of ignorance have left their marks?" He has made
a faithful slave, a courageous soldier, and when trained and educated,
an industrious and law-abiding citizen, yet he is troubled on every
side. What shall he do? Uneducated, undisciplined, untrained, he is
often ferocious or dangerous; he makes a criminal of the lowest type for
he is the product of ignorance.
Crime has increased in proportion as educational privileges have been
withdrawn. This brings the Negro face to face with a most dangerous
criminal force. What shall this man do? It is true that the white man is
further up on the ladder of civilization than the Negro, but the Negro
desires to climb and has made rapid strides, according to his chances.
Christ's answer to Peter was, "What is that to thee, follow thou Me."
John's future welfare evidently depended upon Peter's ability to follow
Christ. So the future work and welfare of the Negro in the Black-Belt of
the South depend largely upon the Christian work of the southern white
man. The Negro needs justice and mercy from the courts of the land and
asks for equal rights in educational opportunities.
We admit that there is a difference between the white man and the Negro,
but the difference is not as great as was the difference between Christ
and His disciples. We admit that the white man is above the Negro, but
not so high as was Christ above His disciples. The very fact that Christ
was superior to His disciples served to Him as a reason why He should
minister unto them. The superiority of the white man to his black
brother can only be shown by the white man's willingness to minister
unto him. Lord, what shall this black man do?
Many great problems confront the people of the rural South, namely, this
Negro Problem and the problem of sufficient labor supply. In a practical
way I wish to consider the relation of the Negro to the labor problem of
the rural South. It is a fact that today many of the best farms of the
South have been turned into pastures because of the lack of labor; other
farms have been sold, and still others are growing up in weeds because
there is no one to till them. This condition obtains in a very marked
degree in almost every southern state. Certainly in most of the
Agricultural Sections.
Before investigating the cause of this condition, men of influence and
power have hastened to proclaim through the press and otherwise, that
the responsibility rests upon the Negro. They say that the Negro is
lazy, worthless, criminal and will not work and therefore they are
compelled to have immigrants to work these fields. That there are lazy,
worthless and criminal Negroes, we do not deny, but we do deny that as a
race they are such.
The facts are these: first, the South, unlike other sections of the
country, has not had thousands of immigrants to come into her borders
year after year to do her work, but has depended solely upon the
increase in her native population for this purpose. This increase has
not kept pace with the marvellous growth and development of that
section, hence, the cry for labor. Second, scarcity of labor in that
section is due in part, to ignorance and a false idea of real freedom.
Men with such ideas do not work long in any one place, but rove from
section to section and work enough to keep themselves living. This labor
is not only unprofitable to the individual, but is not satisfactory to
the employers. Third, the labor trouble in the rural South is due mostly
to the way in which the landlords and merchants treat their tenants and
customers.
The great mass of Negroes in the South either rent the lands or work
them on shares. This rent varies according to the kind of crops that are
made. If the tenant makes a good crop this year, he must expect to pay
more rent the next year, or his farm will be rented to another at higher
figures. Of course, the Negroes are ignorant and are unable to keep
their own accounts. Sometimes these Negro farmers pay as much as 50%,
75% and 100% on the goods and provisions which they consume during the
year.
This method of renting lands and selling goods according to the
condition of the crops, is repeated year after year. I know ignorant
farmers who have been working under these conditions for twenty-five and
thirty years, who have never been able to get more than $15 or $20 in
any one year during this period. These are not worthless and shiftless
Negroes, but persons who work hard from Monday morning until Saturday
night. As a rule, they are on their farms at sunrise, and remain there
until sunset. They have their dinners brought to them in the fields. I
have seen small families grow into large ones under these conditions. I
have also seen infants grow to manhood under same. Now, these people who
have been working in this way for twenty-five and thirty years are
becoming discouraged. When you ask them why they do not ditch,
fertilize, and improve their farms, their answer is, that if they do
this, the next year they will either have to pay more rent or hunt
another home for themselves.
It seems to be the policy of the landlords and the merchants of the
rural South to keep their tenants and customers in debt. It is this
abominable method of the landlords and tenants of the rural South more
than anything else, that has caused many of the best farming lands there
to be turned into pastures, others to be sold at sheriff sale, and still
others to be growing up in weeds. Another menace is loss of fertility of
the soil.
The problem is, how can we stop these people from leaving the country
for the cities and other places of public works and again reclaim these
waste fields? It was once thought that the places of these Negroes could
be supplied by immigrants from foreign countries, but this hope is now
almost abandoned. In fact, the few immigrants who have gone into that
section have, in many instances, been oppressed almost as much as the
Negroes, many have gone to other parts of the country or have returned
to their homes. So we find ourselves face to face with large and fertile
agricultural areas in the South with no labor to till them.
The remedy of these evils lies in the Negro himself. He is best suited
to the work, best adapted to the climate, and understands the southern
white man better than anyone else. Furthermore, he knows the white man;
knows his disposition and inclinations, and therefore, knows what is so
called his place. He feels that justice is wanting in the courts of the
South and he therefore tries to avoid all troubles. Most of all, he
prays for a chance to work and educate his children. He labors and waits
thus patiently because he has faith in the American people. He believes
that ere long the righteous indignation of this people will be aroused
and like the great wave of prohibition, will sweep this country from
center to circumference, and then every man will be awarded according to
his several abilities.
These waste places can be reclaimed and the guttered hills made to
blossom, only by giving the Negro a common education combined with
religious, moral and industrial training and the opportunity to at
least own his home, if not the land he cultivates. The Negro must be
taught to believe that the farmer can become prosperous and independent;
that he can own his home and educate his children in the country. If he
can, and he can be taught these things, in less than ten years, every
available farm in the rural South will be occupied.
WILLIAM J. EDWARDS.
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE BLACK BELT
CHAPTER 1.
CHILDHOOD DAYS.
All that I know of my ancestors was told to me by my people. I learned
from my grandfather on my mother's side that the family came to Alabama
from South Carolina. He told me that his mother was owned by the Wrumphs
who lived in South Carolina, but his father belonged to another family.
For some cause, the Wrumphs decided to move from South Carolina to
Alabama; this caused his mother and father to be separated, as his
father remained in South Carolina. The new home was near the village of
Snow Hill. This must have been in the Thirties when my grandfather was
quite a little child. He had no hope of ever seeing his father again,
but his father worked at nights and in that way earned enough money to
purchase his freedom from his master. So after four or five years he
succeeded in buying his own freedom from his master and started out for
Alabama. When he arrived at Snow Hill, he found his family, and Mr.
Wrumphs at once hired him as a driver. He remained with his family until
his death, which occurred during the war. At his death one of his sons,
George, was appointed to take his place as driver.
As I now remember, my grandfather told me that his mother's name was
Phoebe and that she lived until the close of the war. My grandfather
married a woman by the name of Rachael and she belonged to a family by
the name of Sigh. His wife's mother came directly from Africa and spoke
the African language. It is said that when she became angry no one could
understand what she said. Her owner allowed her to do much as she
pleased.
My grandfather had ten children, my mother being the oldest girl. She
married my father during the war and, as nearly as I can remember, he
told me that it was in 1864. Three children were born to them and I was
the youngest; there was a girl and another boy.
I know little of my father's people, excepting that he repeatedly told
me that they came from South Carolina. So it is, that while I can trace
my ancestry back to my great-grandparents on my mother's side, I can
learn nothing beyond my grandparents on my father's side. My grandfather
was a local preacher and could read quite well. Just how he obtained
this knowledge, I have never been able to learn. He had the confidence
and respect of the best white and colored people in the community and
sometimes he would journey eight or ten miles to preach. Many times at
these meetings there were nearly as many whites as colored people in the
audience. He was indeed a grand old man. His name was James and his
father's name was Michael. So after freedom he took the name of James
Carmichael.
One of the saddest things about slavery was the separation of families.
Very often I come across men who tell me that they were sold from
Virginia, South Carolina or North Carolina, and that they had large
families in those states. Since their emancipation, many of these have
returned to their former states in search of their families, and while
some have succeeded in finding them, there are those who have not been
able to find any trace of their families and have come back again to
die.
Sometimes we hear people attempt to apologize for slavery, but slavery
at its best was hard and cruel. Often the old slaves tell me of their
bitter experience. Even today, there are everywhere in the South many
ex-slaves who lived their best days before and during the civil war.
Many of these men and women found themselves alone at the close of the
war, having been sold away from their families while they were slaves.
I was born at Snow Hill, Wilcox County, Alabama, September 12th, 1869,
three-quarters of a mile east of where Snow Hill Institute now stands.
My mother died September 9th, 1870, at which time I lacked three days of
being one year old. From all I can learn my mother was very religious.
She was a great praying woman and almost at every meeting held in the
neighborhood she would be called upon to pray. In fact, she was sent for
miles around to pray at these meetings. My mother's death left my father
with three children, I being the youngest. He succeeded in getting his
mother, who was cooking for her white people in Selma, Alabama, to come
and take us in charge. My name was Ulyses Grant Edwards, but my
grandmother, who had been with white people since emancipation, changed
my name to William. I afterward added to this my grandfather's name of
James.
My father went away to work and I remained with my grandmother. We lived
about one mile from the "quarter,"--that is, the collection of slaves'
cabins. We had about three acres of ground cleared around our cabin and
my grandmother and I farmed. I do not know how old I was when I began
working, for I have been a farm hand ever since I could remember
anything. We usually made one bale of cotton each year and about
twenty-five or thirty bushels of corn. Sometimes my grandfather would do
our plowing and at other times,--as we had no stock,--my grandmother and
I worked out for others to get our plowing done.
In the summer time it was the custom for little Negro boys to wear only
one garment, a shirt. Sometimes, however, my grandmother would be unable
to get one for me and in that case she would take a crocus sack or corn
sack and put two holes in it for my arms and one for my head. In putting
on a sack shirt for the first time the sensation was extremely
irritating. It seemed as if a thousand pins were sticking me all at
once, but after a few days it would become all right and I could wear it
comfortably. For several summers this was my only garment.
Sometimes we would raise a pig during the summer to kill in the winter
and sometimes we had a cow to milk. At such times we had plenty to eat,
but at other times we had neither a pig nor a cow and then we had hard
times in the way of getting something to eat. Some days our only diet
was corn-bread and corn coffee.
When I was old enough, I was sent to school for two or three months each
winter. Here again I had a hard time, as we usually carried our dinner
in a little tin bucket. Sometimes I had nothing but bread and when
recess came for dinner, I went away by myself and ate my bread and drank
water. As long as I could keep out of the way of the other children, no
one was the wiser and I did not mind it, but some of the children began
to watch me and in that way found that I had nothing but bread, and when
they told the others, they would laugh and make fun of me. This would
make me feel badly and sometimes I cried, but I did not stop school for
this. My one desire was to learn to read the Bible for my old
grandmother, who like my mother, was very religious. At last I was able
to read the Bible for her. She would listen for hours and too, she would
sing such songs as, "Roll, Jordan Roll."
Saturdays were mill days and I had to take the corn on my shoulder and
go to the mill, which was four or five miles away. It always took me
from four to five hours to make this trip, as I had to stop by the way
several times to rest.
By this time my brother and sister were large enough to do good work on
the farm. My grandfather and grandmother for whom they were working, now
desired to take them wholly from my old grandmother. The Justice of the
Peace said that the children might decide the matter. My brother chose
to go to my grandfather's but my sister came back home with the
grandmother who had reared us from infants. Of course, I did not go to
court, because they all knew that there was no chance of my leaving my
grandmother.
In the early spring of 1880 while on one of my trips to the mill the
thought dawned upon me that my grandmother was very old and must soon
die. I cried all the way to the mill and back. I could not see how I
would live after she was gone. I did not tell anybody why I was crying.
On a June night, she became severely ill and died. All she said to us
during her illness was: "Children, I have been waiting for this hour a
long time."
After the death of my grandmother, her daughter Marina Rivers, who was
herself a widow and well on in years, came to live with us that year. I
soon learned to love her as I had my grandmother and never once thought
of leaving her for my mother's people. We gathered the crop that fall
and when all was over, my father, whom I had not seen for five or six
years, came to carry my sister and myself to Selma, where he was
staying. The thought of going to the city filled me with joy and the
time to go could not come too soon for me.