Up From Slavery / Washington, Booker T.

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                  UP FROM SLAVERY: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

                       by Booker T. Washington

                         A Public Domain Text

                       Released September 1993

                   Entered by Aloysius &tSftDotIotE

                      aloysius@west.darkside.com

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                           UP FROM SLAVERY

                           An Autobiography

                                  by

                     Booker Taliaferro Washington

                      Boston  New York  Chicago

                       Houghton Mifflin Company

                    The Riverside Press, Cambridge

                         Copyright 1900, 1901

               A Public Domain Text, Copyright Expired

                               PREFACE

THIS volume is the outgrowth of a series of articles, dealing with 
incidents in my life, which were published consecutively in the 
_Outlook_.  While they were appearing in that magazine I was 
constantly surprised at the number of requests which came to me from 
all parts of the country, asking that the articles be permanently 
preserved in book form.  I am most grateful to the _Outlook_ for 
permission to gratify these requests.

    I have tried to tell a simple, straightforward story, with no 
attempt at embellishment.  My regret is that what I have attempted to 
do has been done so imperfectly.  The greater part of my time and 
strength is required for the executive work connected with the 
Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, and in securing the money 
necessary for the support of the institution.  Much of what I have 
said has been written on board trains, or at hotels or railroad 
stations while I have been waiting for trains, or during the moments 
that I could spare from my work while at Tuskegee.  Without the 
painstaking and generous assistance of Mr. Max Bennett Thrasher I 
could not have succeeded in any satisfactory degree.

                           UP FROM SLAVERY

                              CHAPTER I

                         A SLAVE AMONG SLAVES

I WAS born a slave on a plantation in Franklin County, Virginia.  I am 
not quite sure of the exact place or exact date of my birth, but at 
any rate I suspect I must have been born somewhere and at some time.  
As nearly as I have been able to learn, I was born near a cross-roads 
post-office called Hale's Ford, and the year was 1858 or 1859.  I do 
not know the month or the day.  The earliest impressions I can now 
recall are of the plantation and the slave quarters -- the latter 
being the part of the plantation where the slaves had their cabins.

    My life had its beginning in the midst of the most miserable, 
desolate, and discouraging surroundings.  This was so, however, not 
because my owners were especially cruel, for they were not, as 
compared with many others.  I was born in a typical log cabin, about 
fourteen by sixteen feet square.  In this cabin I lived with my mother 
and a brother and sister till after the Civil War, when we were all 
declared free.

    Of my ancestry I know almost nothing.  In the slave quarters, and 
even later, I heard whispered conversations among the coloured people 
of the tortures which the slaves, including, no doubt, my ancestors on 
my mother's side, suffered in the middle passage of the slave ship 
while being conveyed from Africa to America.  I have been unsuccessful 
in securing any information that would throw any accurate light upon 
the history of my family beyond my mother.  She, I remember, had a 
half-brother and a half-sister.  In the days of slavery not very much 
attention was given to family history and family records -- that is, 
black family records.  My mother, I suppose, attracted the attention 
of a purchaser who was afterward my owner and hers.  Her addition to 
the slave family attracted about as much attention as the purchase of 
a new horse or cow.  Of my father I know even less than of my mother.  
I do not even know his name.  I have heard reports to the effect that 
he was a white man who lived on one of the near-by plantations.  
Whoever he was, I never heard of his taking the least interest in me 
or providing in any way for my rearing.  But I do not find especial 
fault with him.  He was simply another unfortunate victim of the 
institution which the Nation unhappily had engrafted upon it at that 
time.

    The cabin was not only our living-place, but was also used as the 
kitchen for the plantation.  My mother was the plantation cook.  The 
cabin was without glass windows; it had only openings in the side 
which let in the light, and also the cold, chilly air of winter.  
There was a door to the cabin -- that is, something that was called a 
door -- but the uncertain hinges by which it was hung, and the large 
cracks in it, to say nothing of the fact that it was too small, made 
the room a very uncomfortable one.  In addition to these openings 
there was, in the lower right-hand corner of the room, the "cat-hole," 
-- a contrivance which almost every mansion or cabin in Virginia 
possessed during the ante-bellum period.  The "cat-hole" was a square 
opening, about seven by eight inches, provided for the purpose of 
letting the cat pass in and out of the house at will during the night.  
In the case of our particular cabin I could never understand the 
necessity for this convenience, since there were at least a half-dozen 
other places in the cabin that would have accommodated the cats.  
There was no wooden floor in our cabin, the naked earth being used as 
a floor.  In the centre of the earthen floor there was a large, deep 
opening covered with boards, which was used as a place in which to 
store sweet potatoes during the winter.  An impression of this potato- 
hole is very distinctly engraved upon my memory, because I recall that 
during the process of putting the potatoes in or taking them out I 
would often come into possession of one or two, which I roasted and 
thoroughly enjoyed.  There was no cooking-stove on our plantation, and 
all the cooking for the whites and slaves my mother had to do over an 
open fireplace, mostly in pots and "skillets."  While the poorly built 
cabin caused us to suffer with cold in the winter, the heat from the 
open fireplace in summer was equally trying.

    The early years of my life, which were spent in the little cabin, 
were not very different from those of thousands of other slaves.  My 
mother, of course, had little time in which to give attention to the 
training of her children during the day.  She snatched a few moments 
for our care in the early morning before her work began, and at night 
after the day's work was done.  One of my earliest recollections is 
that of my mother cooking a chicken late at night, and awakening her 
children for the purpose of feeding them.  How or where she got it I 
do not know.  I presume, however, it was procured from our owner's 
farm.  Some people may call this theft.  If such a thing were to 
happen now, I should condemn it as theft myself.  But taking place at 
the time it did, and for the reason that it did, no one could ever 
make me believe that my mother was guilty of thieving.  She was simply 
a victim of the system of slavery.  I cannot remember having slept in 
a bed until after our family was declared free by the Emancipation 
Proclamation.  Three children -- John, my older brother, Amanda, my 
sister, and myself -- had a pallet on the dirt floor, or, to be more 
correct, we slept in and on a bundle of filthy rags laid upon the dirt 
floor.

    I was asked not long ago to tell something about the sports and 
pastimes that I engaged in during my youth.  Until that question was 
asked it had never occurred to me that there was no period of my life 
that was devoted to play.  From the time that I can remember anything, 
almost every day of my life had been occupied in some kind of labour; 
though I think I would now be a more useful man if I had had time for 
sports.  During the period that I spent in slavery I was not large 
enough to be of much service, still I was occupied most of the time in 
cleaning the yards, carrying water to the men in the fields, or going 
to the mill to which I used to take the corn, once a week, to be 
ground.  The mill was about three miles from the plantation.  This 
work I always dreaded.  The heavy bag of corn would be thrown across 
the back of the horse, and the corn divided about evenly on each side; 
but in some way, almost without exception, on these trips, the corn 
would so shift as to become unbalanced and would fall off the horse, 
and often I would fall with it.  As I was not strong enough to reload 
the corn upon the horse, I would have to wait, sometimes for many 
hours, till a chance passer-by came along who would help me out of my 
trouble.  The hours while waiting for some one were usually spent in 
crying.  The time consumed in this way made me late in reaching the 
mill, and by the time I got my corn ground and reached home it would 
be far into the night.  The road was a lonely one, and often led 
through dense forests.  I was always frightened.  The woods were said 
to be full of soldiers who had deserted from the army, and I had been 
told that the first thing a deserter did to a Negro boy when he found 
him alone was to cut off his ears.  Besides, when I was late in 
getting home I knew I would always get a severe scolding or a 
flogging.

    I had no schooling whatever while I was a slave though I remember 
on several occasions I went as far as the schoolhouse door with one of 
my young mistresses to carry her books.  The picture of several dozen 
boys and girls in a schoolroom engaged in study made a deep impression 
upon me, and I had the feeling that to get into a schoolhouse and 
study in this way would be about the same as getting into paradise.

    So far as I can now recall, the first knowledge that I got of the 
fact that we were slaves, and that freedom of the slaves was being 
discussed, was early one morning before day, when I was awakened by my 
mother kneeling over her children and fervently praying that Lincoln 
and his armies might be successful, and that one day she and her 
children might be free.  In this connection I have never been able to 
understand how the slaves throughout the South, completely ignorant as 
were the masses so far as books or newspapers were concerned, were 
able to keep themselves so accurately and completely informed about 
the great National questions that were agitating the country.  From 
the time that Garrison, Lovejoy, and others began to agitate for 
freedom, the slaves throughout the South kept in close touch with the 
progress of the movement.  Though I was a mere child during the 
preparation for the Civil War and during the war itself, I now recall 
the many late-at-night whispered discussions that I heard my mother 
and the other slaves on the plantation indulge in.  These discussions 
showed that they understood the situation, and that they kept 
themselves informed of events by what was termed the "grape-vine" 
telegraph.

    During the campaign when Lincoln was first a candidate for the 
Presidency, the slaves on our far-off plantation, miles from any 
railroad or large city or daily newspaper, knew what the issues 
involved were.  When war was begun between the North and the South, 
every slave on our plantation felt and knew that, though other issues 
were discussed, the primal one was that of slavery.  Even the most 
ignorant members of my race on the remote plantations felt in their 
hearts, with a certainty that admitted of no doubt, that the freedom 
of the slaves would be the one great result of the war, if the 
northern armies conquered.  Every success of the Federal armies and 
every defeat of the Confederate forces was watched with the keenest 
and most intense interest.  Often the slaves got knowledge of the 
results of great battles before the white people received it.  This 
news was usually gotten from the coloured man who was sent to the 
post-office for the mail.  In our case the post-office was about three 
miles from the plantation, and the mail came once or twice a week.  
The man who was sent to the office would linger about the place long 
enough to get the drift of the conversation from the group of white 
people who naturally congregated there, after receiving their mail, to 
discuss the latest news.  The mail-carrier on his way back to our 
master's house would as naturally retail the news that he had secured 
among the slaves, and in this way they often heard of important events 
before the white people at the "big house," as the master's house was 
called.

    I cannot remember a single instance during my childhood or early 
boyhood when our entire family sat down to the table together, and 
God's blessing was asked, and the family ate a meal in a civilized 
manner.  On the plantation in Virginia, and even later, meals were 
gotten by the children very much as dumb animals get theirs.  It was a 
piece of bread here and a scrap of meat there.  It was a cup of milk 
at one time and some potatoes at another.  Sometimes a portion of our 
family would eat out of the skillet or pot, while some one else would 
eat from a tin plate held on the knees, and often using nothing but 
the hands with which to hold the food.  When I had grown to sufficient 
size, I was required to go to the "big house" at meal-times to fan the 
flies from the table by means of a large set of paper fans operated by 
a pulley.  Naturally much of the conversation of the white people 
turned upon the subject of freedom and the war, and I absorbed a good 
deal of it.  I remember that at one time I saw two of my young 
mistresses and some lady visitors eating ginger-cakes, in the yard.  
At that time those cakes seemed to me to be absolutely the most 
tempting and desirable things that I had ever seen; and I then and 
there resolved that, if I ever got free, the height of my ambition 
would be reached if I could get to the point where I could secure and 
eat ginger-cakes in the way that I saw those ladies doing.

    Of course as the war was prolonged the white people, in many 
cases, often found it difficult to secure food for themselves.  I 
think the slaves felt the deprivation less than the whites, because 
the usual diet for slaves was corn bread and pork, and these could be 
raised on the plantation; but coffee, tea, sugar, and other articles 
which the whites had been accustomed to use could not be raised on the 
plantation, and the conditions brought about by the war frequently 
made it impossible to secure these things.  The whites were often in 
great straits.  Parched corn was used for coffee, and a kind of black 
molasses was used instead of sugar.  Many times nothing was used to 
sweeten the so-called tea and coffee.

    The first pair of shoes that I recall wearing were wooden ones.  
They had rough leather on the top, but the bottoms, which were about 
an inch thick, were of wood.  When I walked they made a fearful noise, 
and besides this they were very inconvenient, since there was no 
yielding to the natural pressure of the foot.  In wearing them one 
presented and exceedingly awkward appearance.  The most trying ordeal 
that I was forced to endure as a slave boy, however, was the wearing 
of a flax shirt.  In the portion of Virginia where I lived it was 
common to use flax as part of the clothing for the slaves.  That part 
of the flax from which our clothing was made was largely the refuse, 
which of course was the cheapest and roughest part.  I can scarcely 
imagine any torture, except, perhaps, the pulling of a tooth, that is 
equal to that caused by putting on a new flax shirt for the first 
time.  It is almost equal to the feeling that one would experience if 
he had a dozen or more chestnut burrs, or a hundred small pin-points, 
in contact with his flesh.  Even to this day I can recall accurately 
the tortures that I underwent when putting on one of these garments.  
The fact that my flesh was soft and tender added to the pain.  But I 
had no choice.  I had to wear the flax shirt or none; and had it been 
left to me to choose, I should have chosen to wear no covering.  In 
connection with the flax shirt, my brother John, who is several years 
older than I am, performed one of the most generous acts that I ever 
heard of one slave relative doing for another.  On several occasions 
when I was being forced to wear a new flax shirt, he generously agreed 
to put it on in my stead and wear it for several days, till it was 
"broken in."  Until I had grown to be quite a youth this single 
garment was all that I wore.

    One may get the idea, from what I have said, that there was bitter 
feeling toward the white people on the part of my race, because of the 
fact that most of the white population was away fighting in a war 
which would result in keeping the Negro in slavery if the South was 
successful.  In the case of the slaves on our place this was not true, 
and it was not true of any large portion of the slave population in 
the South where the Negro was treated with anything like decency.  
During the Civil War one of my young masters was killed, and two were 
severely wounded.  I recall the feeling of sorrow which existed among 
the slaves when they heard of the death of "Mars' Billy."  It was no 
sham sorrow, but real.  Some of the slaves had nursed "Mars' Billy"; 
others had played with him when he was a child.  "Mars' Billy" had 
begged for mercy in the case of others when the overseer or master was 
thrashing them.  The sorrow in the slave quarter was only second to 
that in the "big house."  When the two young masters were brought home 
wounded, the sympathy of the slaves was shown in many ways.  They were 
just as anxious to assist in the nursing as the family relatives of 
the wounded.  Some of the slaves would even beg for the privilege of 
sitting up at night to nurse their wounded masters.  This tenderness 
and sympathy on the part of those held in bondage was a result of 
their kindly and generous nature.  In order to defend and protect the 
women and children who were left on the plantations when the white 
males went to war, the slaves would have laid down their lives.  The 
slave who was selected to sleep in the "big house" during the absence 
of the males was considered to have the place of honour.  Any one 
attempting to harm "young Mistress" or "old Mistress" during the night 
would have had to cross the dead body of the slave to do so.  I do not 
know how many have noticed it, but I think that it will be found to be 
true that there are few instances, either in slavery or freedom, in 
which a member of my race has been known to betray a specific trust.

    As a rule, not only did the members of my race entertain no 
feelings of bitterness against the whites before and during the war, 
but there are many instances of Negroes tenderly carrying for their 
former masters and mistresses who for some reason have become poor and 
dependent since the war.  I know of instances where the former masters 
of slaves have for years been supplied with money by their former 
slaves to keep them from suffering.  I have known of still other cases 
in which the former slaves have assisted in the education of the 
descendants of their former owners.  I know of a case on a large 
plantation in the South in which a young white man, the son of the 
former owner of the estate, has become so reduced in purse and self- 
control by reason of drink that he is a pitiable creature; and yet, 
notwithstanding the poverty of the coloured people themselves on this 
plantation, they have for years supplied this young white man with the 
necessities of life.  One sends him a little coffee or sugar, another 
a little meat, and so on.  Nothing that the coloured people possess is 
too good for the son of "old Mars' Tom," who will perhaps never be 
permitted to suffer while any remain on the place who knew directly or 
indirectly of "old Mars' Tom."

    I have said that there are few instances of a member of my race 
betraying a specific trust.  One of the best illustrations of this 
which I know of is in the case of an ex-slave from Virginia whom I met 
not long ago in a little town in the state of Ohio.  I found that this 
man had made a contract with his master, two or three years previous 
to the Emancipation Proclamation, to the effect that the slave was to 
be permitted to buy himself, by paying so much per year for his body; 
and while he was paying for himself, he was to be permitted to labour 
where and for whom he pleased.  Finding that he could secure better 
wages in Ohio, he went there.  When freedom came, he was still in debt 
to his master some three hundred dollars.  Notwithstanding that the 
Emancipation Proclamation freed him from any obligation to his master, 
this black man walked the greater portion of the distance back to 
where his old master lived in Virginia, and placed the last dollar, 
with interest, in his hands.  In talking to me about this, the man 
told me that he knew that he did not have to pay the debt, but that he 
had given his word to the master, and his word he had never broken.  
He felt that he could not enjoy his freedom till he had fulfilled his 
promise.

    From some things that I have said one may get the idea that some 
of the slaves did not want freedom.  This is not true.  I have never 
seen one who did not want to be free, or one who would return to 
slavery.

    I pity from the bottom of my heart any nation or body of people 
that is so unfortunate as to get entangled in the net of slavery.  I 
have long since ceased to cherish any spirit of bitterness against the 
Southern white people on account of the enslavement of my race.  No 
one section of our country was wholly responsible for its 
introduction, and, besides, it was recognized and protected for years 
by the General Government.  Having once got its tentacles fastened on 
to the economic and social life of the Republic, it was no easy matter 
for the country to relieve itself of the institution.  Then, when we 
rid ourselves of prejudice, or racial feeling, and look facts in the 
face, we must acknowledge that, notwithstanding the cruelty and moral 
wrong of slavery, the ten million Negroes inhabiting this country, who 
themselves or whose ancestors went through the school of American 
slavery, are in a stronger and more hopeful condition, materially, 
intellectually, morally, and religiously, than is true of an equal 
number of black people in any other portion of the globe.  This is so 
to such an extend that Negroes in this country, who themselves or 
whose forefathers went through the school of slavery, are constantly 
returning to Africa as missionaries to enlighten those who remained in 
the fatherland.  This I say, not to justify slavery -- on the other 
hand, I condemn it as an institution, as we all know that in America 
it was established for selfish and financial reasons, and not from a 
missionary motive -- but to call attention to a fact, and to show how 
Providence so often uses men and institutions to accomplish a purpose.  
When persons ask me in these days how, in the midst of what sometimes 
seem hopelessly discouraging conditions, I can have such faith in the 
future of my race in this country, I remind them of the wilderness 
through which and out of which, a good Providence has already led us.

    Ever since I have been old enough to think for myself, I have 
entertained the idea that, notwithstanding the cruel wrongs inflicted 
upon us, the black man got nearly as much out of slavery as the white 
man did.  The hurtful influences of the institution were not by any 
means confined to the Negro.  This was fully illustrated by the life 
upon our own plantation.  The whole machinery of slavery was so 
constructed as to cause labour, as a rule, to be looked upon as a 
badge of degradation, of inferiority.  Hence labour was something that 
both races on the slave plantation sought to escape.  The slave system 
on our place, in a large measure, took the spirit of self-reliance and 
self-help out of the white people.  My old master had many boys and 
girls, but not one, so far as I know, ever mastered a single trade or 
special line of productive industry.  The girls were not taught to 
cook, sew, or to take care of the house.  All of this was left to the 
saves.  The slaves, of course, had little personal interest in the 
life of the plantation, and their ignorance prevented them from 
learning how to do things in the most improved and thorough manner.  
As a result of the system, fences were out of repair, gates were 
hanging half off the hinges, doors creaked, window-panes were out, 
plastering had fallen but was not replaced, weeds grew in the yard.  
As a rule, there was food for whites and blacks, but inside the house, 
and on the dining-room table, there was wanting that delicacy and 
refinement of touch and finish which can make a home the most 
convenient, comfortable, and attractive place in the world.  Withal 
there was a waste of food and other materials which was sad.  When 
freedom came, the slaves were almost as well fitted to begin life anew 
as the master, except in the matter of book-learning and ownership of 
property.  The slave owner and his sons had mastered no special 
industry.  They unconsciously had imbibed the feeling that manual 
labour was not the proper thing for them.  On the other hand, the 
slaves, in many cases, had mastered some handicraft, and none were 
ashamed, and few unwilling, to labour.

    Finally the war closed, and the day of freedom came.  It was a 
momentous and eventful day to all upon our plantation.  We have been 
expecting it.  Freedom was in the air, and had been for months.  
Deserting soldiers returning to their homes were to be seen every day.  
Others who had been discharged, or whose regiments had been paroled, 
were constantly passing near our place.  The "grape-vine telegraph" 
was kept busy night and day.  The news and mutterings of great events 
were swiftly carried from one plantation to another.  In the fear of 
"Yankee" invasions, the silverware and other valuables were taken from 
the "big house," buried in the woods, and guarded by trusted slaves.  
Woe be to any one who would have attempted to disturb the buried 
treasure.  The slaves would give the Yankee soldiers food, drink, 
clothing -- anything but that which had been specifically intrusted 
[sic] to their care and honour.  As the great day drew nearer, there 
was more singing in the slave quarters than usual.  It was bolder, had 
more ring, and lasted later into the night.  Most of the verses of the 
plantation songs had some reference to freedom.  True, they had sung 
those same verses before, but they had been careful to explain that 
the "freedom" in these songs referred to the next world, and had no 
connection with life in this world.  Now they gradually threw off the 
mask, and were not afraid to let it be known that the "freedom" in 
their songs meant freedom of the body in this world.  The night before 
the eventful day, word was sent to the slaver quarters to the effect 
that something unusual was going to take place at the "big house" the 
next morning.  There was little, if any, sleep that night.  All as 
excitement and expectancy.  Early the next morning word was sent to 
all the slaves, old and young, to gather at the house.  In company 
with my mother, brother, and sister, and a large number of other 
slaves, I went to the master's house.  All of our master's family were 
either standing or seated on the veranda of the house, where they 
could see what was to take place and hear what was said.  There was a 
feeling of deep interest, or perhaps sadness, on their faces, but not 
bitterness.  As I now recall the impression they made upon me, they 
did not at the moment seem to be sad because of the loss of property, 
but rather because of parting with those whom they had reared and who 
were in many ways very close to them.  The most distinct thing that I 
now recall in connection with the scene was that some man who seemed 
to be a stranger (a United States officer, I presume) made a little 
speech and then read a rather long paper -- the Emancipation 
Proclamation, I think.  After the reading we were told that we were 
all free, and could go when and where we pleased.  My mother, who was 
standing by my side, leaned over and kissed her children, while tears 
of joy ran down her cheeks.  She explained to us what it all meant, 
that this was the day for which she had been so long praying, but 
fearing that she would never live to see.

    For some minutes there was great rejoicing, and thanksgiving, and 
wild scenes of ecstasy.  But there was no feeling of bitterness.  In 
fact, there was pity among the slaves for our former owners.  The wild 
rejoicing on the part of the emancipated coloured people lasted but 
for a brief period, for I noticed that by the time they returned to 
their cabins there was a change in their feelings.  The great 
responsibility of being free, of having charge of themselves, of 
having to think and plan for themselves and their children, seemed to 
take possession of them.  It was very much like suddenly turning a 
youth of ten or twelve years out into the world to provide for 
himself.  In a few hours the great questions with which the Anglo- 
Saxon race had been grappling for centuries had been thrown upon these 
people to be solved.  These were the questions of a home, a living, 
the rearing of children, education, citizenship, and the establishment 
and support of churches.  Was it any wonder that within a few hours 
the wild rejoicing ceased and a feeling of deep gloom seemed to 
pervade the slave quarters?  To some it seemed that, now that they 
were in actual possession of it, freedom was a more serious thing than 
they had expected to find it.  Some of the slaves were seventy or 
eighty years old; their best days were gone.  They had no strength 
with which to earn a living in a strange place and among strange 
people, even if they had been sure where to find a new place of abode.  
To this class the problem seemed especially hard.  Besides, deep down 
in their hearts there was a strange and peculiar attachment to "old 
Marster" and "old Missus," and to their children, which they found it 
hard to think of breaking off.  With these they had spent in some 
cases nearly a half-century, and it was no light thing to think of 
parting.  Gradually, one by one, stealthily at first, the older slaves 
began to wander from the slave quarters back to the "big house" to 
have a whispered conversation with their former owners as to the 
future.

                              CHAPTER II

                             BOYHOOD DAYS

AFTER the coming of freedom there were two points upon which 
practically all the people on our place were agreed, and I found that 
this was generally true throughout the South:  that they must change 
their names, and that they must leave the old plantation for at least 
a few days or weeks in order that they might really feel sure that 
they were free.

    In some way a feeling got among the coloured people that it was 
far from proper for them to bear the surname of their former owners, 
and a great many of them took other surnames.  This was one of the 
first signs of freedom.  When they were slaves, a coloured person was 
simply called "John" or "Susan."  There was seldom occasion for more 
than the use of the one name.  If "John" or "Susan" belonged to a 
white man by the name of "Hatcher," sometimes he was called "John 
Hatcher," or as often "Hatcher's John."  But there was a feeling that 
"John Hatcher" or "Hatcher's John" was not the proper title by which 
to denote a freeman; and so in many cases "John Hatcher" was changed 
to "John S. Lincoln" or "John S. Sherman," the initial "S" standing 
for no name, it being simply a part of what the coloured man proudly 
called his "entitles."

    As I have stated, most of the coloured people left the old 
plantation for a short while at least, so as to be sure, it seemed, 
that they could leave and try their freedom on to see how it felt.  
After they had remained away for a while, many of the older slaves, 
especially, returned to their old homes and made some kind of contract 
with their former owners by which they remained on the estate.

    My mother's husband, who was the stepfather of my brother John and 
myself, did not belong to the same owners as did my mother.  In fact, 
he seldom came to our plantation.  I remember seeing his there perhaps 
once a year, that being about Christmas time.  In some way, during the 
war, by running away and following the Federal soldiers, it seems, he 
found his way into the new state of West Virginia.  As soon as freedom 
was declared, he sent for my mother to come to the Kanawha Valley, in 
West Virginia.  At that time a journey from Virginia over the 
mountains to West Virginia was rather a tedious and in some cases a 
painful undertaking.  What little clothing and few household goods we 
had were placed in a cart, but the children walked the greater portion 
of the distance, which was several hundred miles.

    I do not think any of us ever had been very far from the 
plantation, and the taking of a long journey into another state was 
quite an event.  The parting from our former owners and the members of 
our own race on the plantation was a serious occasion.  From the time 
of our parting till their death we kept up a correspondence with the 
older members of the family, and in later years we have kept in touch 
with those who were the younger members.  We were several weeks making 
the trip, and most of the time we slept in the open air and did our 
cooking over a log fire out-of-doors.  One night I recall that we 
camped near an abandoned log cabin, and my mother decided to build a 
fire in that for cooking, and afterward to make a "pallet" on the 
floor for our sleeping.  Just as the fire had gotten well started a 
large black snake fully a yard and a half long dropped down the 
chimney and ran out on the floor.  Of course we at once abandoned that 
cabin.  Finally we reached our destination -- a little town called 
Malden, which is about five miles from Charleston, the present capital 
of the state.

    At that time salt-mining was the great industry in that part of 
West Virginia, and the little town of Malden was right in the midst of 
the salt-furnaces.  My stepfather had already secured a job at a salt- 
furnace, and he had also secured a little cabin for us to live in.  
Our new house was no better than the one we had left on the old 
plantation in Virginia.  In fact, in one respect it was worse.  
Notwithstanding the poor condition of our plantation cabin, we were at 
all times sure of pure air.  Our new home was in the midst of a 
cluster of cabins crowded closely together, and as there were no 
sanitary regulations, the filth about the cabins was often 
intolerable.  Some of our neighbours were coloured people, and some 
were the poorest and most ignorant and degraded white people.  It was 
a motley mixture.  Drinking, gambling, quarrels, fights, and 
shockingly immoral practices were frequent.  All who lived in the 
little town were in one way or another connected with the salt 
business.  Though I was a mere child, my stepfather put me and my 
brother at work in one of the furnaces.  Often I began work as early 
as four o'clock in the morning.

    The first thing I ever learned in the way of book knowledge was 
while working in this salt-furnace.  Each salt-packer had his barrels 
marked with a certain number.  The number allotted to my stepfather 
was "18."  At the close of the day's work the boss of the packers 
would come around and put "18" on each of our barrels, and I soon 
learned to recognize that figure wherever I saw it, and after a while 
got to the point where I could make that figure, though I knew nothing 
about any other figures or letters.

    From the time that I can remember having any thoughts about 
anything, I recall that I had an intense longing to learn to read.  I 
determined, when quite a small child, that, if I accomplished nothing 
else in life, I would in some way get enough education to enable me to 
read common books and newspapers.  Soon after we got settled in some 
manner in our new cabin in West Virginia, I induced my mother to get 
hold of a book for me.  How or where she got it I do not know, but in 
some way she procured an old copy of Webster's "blue-back" spelling- 
book, which contained the alphabet, followed by such meaningless words 
as "ab," "ba," "ca," "da."  I began at once to devour this book, and I 
think that it was the first one I ever had in my hands.  I had learned 
from somebody that the way to begin to read was to learn the alphabet, 
so I tried in all the ways I could think of to learn it, -- all of 
course without a teacher, for I could find no one to teach me.  At 
that time there was not a single member of my race anywhere near us 
who could read, and I was too timid to approach any of the white 
people.  In some way, within a few weeks, I mastered the greater 
portion of the alphabet.  In all my efforts to learn to read my mother 
shared fully my ambition, and sympathized with me and aided me in 
every way that she could.  Though she was totally ignorant, she had 
high ambitions for her children, and a large fund of good, hard, 
common sense, which seemed to enable her to meet and master every 
situation.  If I have done anything in life worth attention, I feel 
sure that I inherited the disposition from my mother.

    In the midst of my struggles and longing for an education, a young 
coloured boy who had learned to read in the state of Ohio came to 
Malden.  As soon as the coloured people found out that he could read, 
a newspaper was secured, and at the close of nearly every day's work 
this young man would be surrounded by a group of men and women who 
were anxious to hear him read the news contained in the papers.  How I 
used to envy this man!  He seemed to me to be the one young man in all 
the world who ought to be satisfied with his attainments.

    About this time the question of having some kind of a school 
opened for the coloured children in the village began to be discussed 
by members of the race.  As it would be the first school for Negro 
children that had ever been opened in that part of Virginia, it was, 
of course, to be a great event, and the discussion excited the wildest 
interest.  The most perplexing question was where to find a teacher.  
The young man from Ohio who had learned to read the papers was 
considered, but his age was against him.  In the midst of the 
discussion about a teacher, another young coloured man from Ohio, who 
had been a soldier, in some way found his way into town.  It was soon 
learned that he possessed considerable education, and he was engaged 
by the coloured people to teach their first school.  As yet no free 
schools had been started for coloured people in that section, hence 
each family agreed to pay a certain amount per month, with the 
understanding that the teacher was to "board 'round" -- that is, spend 
a day with each family.  This was not bad for the teacher, for each 
family tried to provide the very best on the day the teacher was to be 
its guest.  I recall that I looked forward with an anxious appetite to 
the "teacher's day" at our little cabin.

    This experience of a whole race beginning to go to school for the 
first time, presents one of the most interesting studies that has ever 
occurred in connection with the development of any race.  Few people 
who were not right in the midst of the scenes can form any exact idea 
of the intense desire which the people of my race showed for an 
education.  As I have stated, it was a whole race trying to go to 
school.  Few were too young, and none too old, to make the attempt to 
learn.  As fast as any kind of teachers could be secured, not only 
were day-schools filled, but night-schools as well.  The great 
ambition of the older people was to try to learn to read the Bible 
before they died.  With this end in view men and women who were fifty 
or seventy-five years old would often be found in the night-school.  
Some day-schools were formed soon after freedom, but the principal 
book studied in the Sunday-school was the spelling-book.  Day-school, 
night-school, Sunday-school, were always crowded, and often many had 
to be turned away for want of room.

    The opening of the school in the Kanawha Valley, however, brought  
to me one of the keenest disappointments that I ever experienced.  I 
had been working in a salt-furnace for several months, and my 
stepfather had discovered that I had a financial value, and so, when 
the school opened, he decided that he could not spare me from my work.  
This decision seemed to cloud my every ambition.  The disappointment 
was made all the more severe by reason of the fact that my place of 
work was where I could see the happy children passing to and from 
school mornings and afternoons.  Despite this disappointment, however, 
I determined that I would learn something, anyway.  I applied myself 
with greater earnestness than ever to the mastering of what was in the 
"blue-back" speller.

    My mother sympathized with me in my disappointment, and sought to 
comfort me in all the ways she could, and to help me find a way to 
learn.  After a while I succeeded in making arrangements with the 
teacher to give me some lessons at night, after the day's work was 
done.  These night lessons were so welcome that I think I learned more 
at night than the other children did during the day.  My own 
experiences in the night-school gave me faith in the night-school 
idea, with which, in after years, I had to do both at Hampton and 
Tuskegee.  But my boyish heart was still set upon going to the day- 
school, and I let no opportunity slip to push my case.  Finally I won, 
and was permitted to go to the school in the day for a few months, 
with the understanding that I was to rise early in the morning and 
work in the furnace till nine o'clock, and return immediately after 
school closed in the afternoon for at least two more hours of work.

    The schoolhouse was some distance from the furnace, and as I had 
to work till nine o'clock, and the school opened at nine, I found 
myself in a difficulty.  School would always be begun before I reached 
it, and sometimes my class had recited.  To get around this difficulty 
I yielded to a temptation for which most people, I suppose, will 
condemn me; but since it is a fact, I might as well state it.  I have 
great faith in the power and influence of facts.  It is seldom that 
anything is permanently gained by holding back a fact.  There was a 
large clock in a little office in the furnace.  This clock, of course, 
all the hundred or more workmen depended upon to regulate their hours 
of beginning and ending the day's work.  I got the idea that the way 
for me to reach school on time was to move the clock hands from half- 
past eight up to the nine o'clock mark.  This I found myself doing 
morning after morning, till the furnace "boss" discovered that 
something was wrong, and locked the clock in a case.  I did not mean 
to inconvenience anybody.  I simply meant to reach that schoolhouse in 
time.

    When, however, I found myself at the school for the first time, I 
also found myself confronted with two other difficulties.  In the 
first place, I found that all the other children wore hats or caps on 
their heads, and I had neither hat nor cap.  In fact, I do not 
remember that up to the time of going to school I had ever worn any 
kind of covering upon my head, nor do I recall that either I or 
anybody else had even thought anything about the need of covering for 
my head.  But, of course, when I saw how all the other boys were 
dressed, I began to feel quite uncomfortable.  As usual, I put the 
case before my mother, and she explained to me that she had no money 
with which to buy a "store hat," which was a rather new institution at 
that time among the members of my race and was considered quite the 
thing for young and old to own, but that she would find a way to help 
me out of the difficulty.  She accordingly got two pieces of 
"homespun" (jeans) and sewed them together, and I was soon the proud 
possessor of my first cap.

    The lesson that my mother taught me in this has always remained 
with me, and I have tried as best as I could to teach it to others.  I 
have always felt proud, whenever I think of the incident, that my 
mother had strength of character enough not to be led into the 
temptation of seeming to be that which she was not -- of trying to 
impress my schoolmates and others with the fact that she was able to 
buy me a "store hat" when she was not.  I have always felt proud that 
she refused to go into debt for that which she did not have the money 
to pay for.  Since that time I have owned many kinds of caps and hats, 
but never one of which I have felt so proud as of the cap made of the 
two pieces of cloth sewed together by my mother.  I have noted the 
fact, but without satisfaction, I need not add, that several of the 
boys who began their careers with "store hats" and who were my 
schoolmates and used to join in the sport that was made of me because 
I had only a "homespun" cap, have ended their careers in the 
penitentiary, while others are not able now to buy any kind of hat.

    My second difficulty was with regard to my name, or rather _a_ 
name.  From the time when I could remember anything, I had been called 
simply "Booker."  Before going to school it had never occurred to me 
that it was needful or appropriate to have an additional name.  When I 
heard the schoolroll called, I noticed that all of the children had at 
least two names, and some of them indulged in what seemed to me the 
extravagance of having three.  I was in deep perplexity, because I 
knew that the teacher would demand of me at least two names, and I had 
only one.  By the time the occasion came for the enrolling of my name, 
an idea occurred to me which I thought would make me equal to the 
situation; and so, when the teacher asked me what my full name was, I 
calmly told him "Booker Washington," as if I had been called by that 
name all my life; and by that name I have since been known.  Later in 
my life I found that my mother had given me the name of "Booker 
Taliaferro" soon after I was born, but in some way that part of my 
name seemed to disappear and for a long while was forgotten, but as 
soon as I found out about it I revived it, and made my full name 
"Booker Taliaferro Washington."  I think there are not many men in our 
country who have had the privilege of naming themselves in the way 
that I have.

    More than once I have tried to picture myself in the position of a 
boy or man with an honoured and distinguished ancestry which I could 
trace back through a period of hundreds of years, and who had not only 
inherited a name, but fortune and a proud family homestead; and yet I 
have sometimes had the feeling that if I had inherited these, and had 
been a member of a more popular race, I should have been inclined to 
yield to the temptation of depending upon my ancestry and my colour to 
do that for me which I should do for myself.  Years ago I resolved 
that because I had no ancestry myself I would leave a record of which 
my children would be proud, and which might encourage them to still 
higher effort.

    The world should not pass judgment upon the Negro, and especially 
the Negro youth, too quickly or too harshly.  The Negro boy has 
obstacles, discouragements, and temptations to battle with that are 
little know to those not situated as he is.  When a white boy 
undertakes a task, it is taken for granted that he will succeed.  On 
the other hand, people are usually surprised if the Negro boy does not 
fail.  In a word, the Negro youth starts out with the presumption 
against him.

    The influence of ancestry, however, is important in helping 
forward any individual or race, if too much reliance is not placed 
upon it.  Those who constantly direct attention to the Negro youth's 
moral weaknesses, and compare his advancement with that of white 
youths, do not consider the influence of the memories which cling 
about the old family homesteads.  I have no idea, as I have stated 
elsewhere, who my grandmother was.  I have, or have had, uncles and 
aunts and cousins, but I have no knowledge as to where most of them 
are.  My case will illustrate that of hundreds of thousands of black 
people in every part of our country.  The very fact that the white boy 
is conscious that, if he fails in life, he will disgrace the whole 
family record, extending back through many generations, is of 
tremendous value in helping him to resist temptations.  The fact that 
the individual has behind and surrounding him proud family history and 
connection serves as a stimulus to help him to overcome obstacles when 
striving for success.

    The time that I was permitted to attend school during the day was 
short, and my attendance was irregular.  It was not long before I had 
to stop attending day-school altogether, and devote all of my time 
again to work.  I resorted to the night-school again.  In fact, the 
greater part of the education I secured in my boyhood was gathered 
through the night-school after my day's work was done.  I had 
difficulty often in securing a satisfactory teacher.  Sometimes, after 
I had secured some one to teach me at night, I would find, much to my 
disappointment, that the teacher knew but little more than I did. 
Often I would have to walk several miles at night in order to recite 
my night-school lessons.  There was never a time in my youth, no 
matter how dark and discouraging the days might be, when one resolve 
did not continually remain with me, and that was a determination to 
secure an education at any cost.

    Soon after we moved to West Virginia, my mother adopted into our 
family, notwithstanding our poverty, an orphan boy, to whom afterward 
we gave the name of James B. Washington.  He has ever since remained a 
member of the family.

    After I had worked in the salt-furnace for some time, work was 
secured for me in a coal-mine which was operated mainly for the 
purpose of securing fuel for the salt-furnace.  Work in the coal-mine 
I always dreaded.  One reason for this was that any one who worked in 
a coal-mine was always unclean., at least while at work, and it was a 
very hard job to get one's skin clean after the day's work was over.  
Then it was fully a mile from the opening of the coal-mine to the face 
of the coal, and all, of course, was in the blackest darkness.  I do 
not believe that one ever experiences anywhere else such darkness as 
he does in a coal-mine.  The mine was divided into a large number of 
different "rooms" or departments, and, as I never was able to learn 
the location of all these "rooms," I many times found myself lost in 
the mine.  To add to the horror of being lost, sometimes my light 
would go out, and then, if I did not happen to have a match, I would 
wander about in the darkness until by chance I found some one to give 
me a light.  The work was not only hard, but it was dangerous.  There 
was always the danger of being blown to pieces by a premature 
explosion of powder, or of being crushed by falling slate.  Accidents 
from one or the other of these causes were frequently occurring, and 
this kept me in constant fear.  Many children of the tenderest years 
were compelled then, as is now true I fear, in most coal-mining 
districts, to spend a large part of their lives in these coal-mines, 
with little opportunity to get an education; and, what is worse, I 
have often noted that, as a rule, young boys who begin life in a coal- 
mine are often physically and mentally dwarfed.  They soon lose 
ambition to do anything else than to continue as a coal-miner.

    In those days, and later as a young man, I used to try to picture 
in my imagination the feelings and ambitions of a white boy with 
absolutely no limit placed upon his aspirations and activities.  I 
used to envy the white boy who had no obstacles placed in the way of 
his becoming a Congressman, Governor, Bishop, or President by reason 
of the accident of his birth or race.  I used to picture the way that 
I would act under such circumstances; how I would begin at the bottom 
and keep rising until I reached the highest round of success.

    In later years, I confess that I do not envy the white boy as I 
once did.  I have learned that success is to be measured not so much 
by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which 
he has overcome while trying to succeed.  Looked at from this 
standpoint, I almost reached the conclusion that often the Negro boy's 
birth and connection with an unpopular race is an advantage, so far as 
real life is concerned.  With few exceptions, the Negro youth must 
work harder and must perform his tasks even better than a white youth 
in order to secure recognition.  But out of the hard and unusual 
struggle through which he is compelled to pass, he gets a strength, a 
confidence, that one misses whose pathway is comparatively smooth by 
reason of birth and race.

    From any point of view, I had rather be what I am, a member of the 
Negro race, than be able to claim membership with the most favoured of 
any other race.  I have always been made sad when I have heard members 
of any race claiming rights or privileges, or certain badges of 
distinction, on the ground simply that they were members of this or 
that race, regardless of their own individual worth or attainments.  I 
have been made to feel sad for such persons because I am conscious of 
the fact that mere connection with what is known as a superior race 
will not permanently carry an individual forward unless he has 
individual worth, and mere connection with what is regarded as an 
inferior race will not finally hold an individual back if he possesses 
intrinsic, individual merit.  Every persecuted individual and race 
should get much consolation out of the great human law, which is 
universal and eternal, that merit, no matter under what skin found, 
is, in the long run, recognized and rewarded.  This I have said here, 
not to call attention to myself as an individual, but to the race to 
which I am proud to belong.

                             CHAPTER III

                    THE STRUGGLE FOR AN EDUCATION

ONE day, while at work in the coal-mine, I happened to overhear two 
miners talking about a great school for coloured people somewhere in 
Virginia.  This was the first time that I had ever heard anything 
about any kind of school or college that was more pretentious than the 
little coloured school in our town.

    In the darkness of the mine I noiselessly crept as close as I 
could to the two men who were talking.  I heard one tell the other 
that not only was the school established for the members of any race, 
but the opportunities that it provided by which poor but worthy 
students could work out all or a part of the cost of a board, and at 
the same time be taught some trade or industry.

    As they went on describing the school, it seemed to me that it 
must be the greatest place on earth, and not even Heaven presented 
more attractions for me at that time than did the Hampton Normal and 
Agricultural Institute in Virginia, about which these men were 
talking.  I resolved at once to go to that school, although I had no 
idea where it was, or how many miles away, or how I was going to reach 
it; I remembered only that I was on fire constantly with one ambition, 
and that was to go to Hampton.  This thought was with me day and 
night.

    After hearing of the Hampton Institute, I continued to work for a 
few months longer in the coal-mine.  While at work there, I heard of a 
vacant position in the household of General Lewis Ruffner, the owner 
of the salt-furnace and coal-mine.  Mrs. Viola Ruffner, the wife of 
General Ruffner, was a "Yankee" woman from Vermont.  Mrs. Ruffner had 
a reputation all through the vicinity for being very strict with her 
servants, and especially with the boys who tried to serve her.  Few of 
them remained with her more than two or three weeks.  They all left 
with the same excuse:  she was too strict.  I decided, however, that I 
would rather try Mrs. Ruffner's house than remain in the coal-mine, 
and so my mother applied to her for the vacant position.  I was hired 
at a salary of $5 per month.

    I had heard so much about Mrs. Ruffner's severity that I was 
almost afraid to see her, and trembled when I went into her presence.  
I had not lived with her many weeks, however, before I began to 
understand her.  I soon began to learn that, first of all, she wanted 
everything kept clean about her, that she wanted things done promptly 
and systematically, and that at the bottom of everything she wanted 
absolute honesty and frankness.  Nothing must be sloven or slipshod; 
every door, every fence, must be kept in repair.

    I cannot now recall how long I lived with Mrs. Ruffner before 
going to Hampton, but I think it must have been a year and a half.  At 
any rate, I here repeat what i have said more than once before, that 
the lessons that I learned in the home of Mrs. Ruffner were as 
valuable to me as any education I have ever gotten anywhere else.  
Even to this day I never see bits of paper scattered around a house or 
in the street that I do not want to pick them up at once.  I never see 
a filthy yard that I do not want to clean it, a paling off of a fence 
that I do not want to put it on, an unpainted or unwhitewashed house 
that I do not want to pain or whitewash it, or a button off one's 
clothes, or a grease-spot on them or on a floor, that I do not want to 
call attention to it.

    From fearing Mrs. Ruffner I soon learned to look upon her as one 
of my best friends.  When she found that she could trust me she did so 
implicitly.  During the one or two winters that I was with her she 
gave me an opportunity to go to school for an hour in the day during a 
portion of the winter months, but most of my studying was done at 
night, sometimes alone, sometimes under some one whom I could hire to 
teach me.  Mrs. Ruffner always encouraged and sympathized with me in 
all my efforts to get an education.  It was while living with her that 
I began to get together my first library.  I secured a dry-goods box, 
knocked out one side of it, put some shelves in it, and began putting 
into it every kind of book that I could get my hands upon, and called 
it my "library."

    Notwithstanding my success at Mrs. Ruffner's I did not give up the 
idea of going to the Hampton Institute.  In the fall of 1872 I 
determined to make an effort to get there, although, as I have stated, 
I had no definite idea of the direction in which Hampton was, or of 
what it would cost to go there.  I do not think that any one 
thoroughly sympathized with me in my ambition to go to Hampton unless 
it was my mother, and she was troubled with a grave fear that I was 
starting out on a "wild-goose chase."  At any rate, I got only a half- 
hearted consent from her that I might start.  The small amount of 
money that I had earned had been consumed by my stepfather and the 
remainder of the family, with the exception of a very few dollars, and 
so I had very little with which to buy clothes and pay my travelling 
expenses.  My brother John helped me all that he could, but of course 
that was not a great deal, for his work was in the coal-mine, where he 
did not earn much, and most of what he did earn went in the direction 
of paying the household expenses.

    Perhaps the thing that touched and pleased me most in connection 
with my starting for Hampton was the interest that many of the older 
coloured people took in the matter.  They had spent the best days of 
their lives in slavery, and hardly expected to live to see the time 
when they would see a member of their race leave home to attend a 
boarding-school.  Some of these older people would give me a nickel, 
others a quarter, or a handkerchief.

    Finally the great day came, and I started for Hampton.  I had only 
a small, cheap satchel that contained a few articles of clothing I 
could get.  My mother at the time was rather weak and broken in 
health.  I hardly expected to see her again, and thus our parting was 
all the more sad.  She, however, was very brave through it all.  At 
that time there were no through trains connecting that part of West 
Virginia with eastern Virginia.  Trains ran only a portion of the way, 
and the remainder of the distance was travelled by stage-coaches.

    The distance from Malden to Hampton is about five hundred miles.  
I had not been away from home many hours before it began to grow 
painfully evident that I did not have enough money to pay my fair to 
Hampton.  One experience I shall long remember.  I had been travelling 
over the mountains most of the afternoon in an old-fashion stage- 
coach, when, late in the evening, the coach stopped for the night at a 
common, unpainted house called a hotel.  All the other passengers 
except myself were whites.  In my ignorance I supposed that the little 
hotel existed for the purpose of accommodating the passengers who 
travelled on the stage-coach.  The difference that the colour of one's 
skin would make I had not thought anything about.  After all the other 
passengers had been shown rooms and were getting ready for supper, I 
shyly presented myself before the man at the desk. It is true I had 
practically no money in my pocket with which to pay for bed or food, 
but I had hoped in some way to beg my way into the good graces of the 
landlord, for at that season in the mountains of Virginia the weather 
was cold, and I wanted to get indoors for the night.  Without asking 
as to whether I had any money, the man at the desk firmly refused to 
even consider the matter of providing me with food or lodging.  This 
was my first experience in finding out what the colour of my skin 
meant.  In some way I managed to keep warm by walking about, and so 
got through the night.  My whole soul was so bent upon reaching 
Hampton that I did not have time to cherish any bitterness toward the 
hotel-keeper.

    By walking, begging rides both in wagons and in the cars, in some 
way, after a number of days, I reached the city of Richmond, Virginia, 
about eighty-two miles from Hampton.  When I reached there, tired, 
hungry, and dirty, it was late in the night.  I had never been in a 
large city, and this rather added to my misery.  When I reached 
Richmond, I was completely out of money.  I had not a single 
acquaintance in the place, and, being unused to city ways, I did not 
know where to go.  I applied at several places for lodging, but they 
all wanted money, and that was what I did not have.  Knowing nothing 
else better to do, I walked the streets.  In doing this I passed by 
many a food-stands where fried chicken and half-moon apple pies were 
piled high and made to present a most tempting appearance.  At that 
time it seemed to me that I would have promised all that I expected to 
possess in the future to have gotten hold of one of those chicken legs 
or one of those pies.  But I could not get either of these, nor 
anything else to eat.

    I must have walked the streets till after midnight.  At last I 
became so exhausted that I could walk no longer.  I was tired, I was 
hungry, I was everything but discouraged.  Just about the time when I 
reached extreme physical exhaustion, I came upon a portion of a street 
where the board sidewalk was considerably elevated.  I waited for a 
few minutes, till I was sure that no passers-by could see me, and then 
crept under the sidewalk and lay for the night upon the ground, with 
my satchel of clothing for a pillow.  Nearly all night I could hear 
the tramp of feet over my head.  The next morning I found myself 
somewhat refreshed, but I was extremely hungry, because it had been a 
long time since I had had sufficient food.  As soon as it became light 
enough for me to see my surroundings I noticed that I was near a large 
ship, and that this ship seemed to be unloading a cargo of pig iron.  
I went at once to the vessel and asked the captain to permit me to 
help unload the vessel in order to get money for food.  The captain, a 
white man, who seemed to be kind-hearted, consented.  I worked long 
enough to earn money for my breakfast, and it seems to me, as I 
remember it now, to have been about the best breakfast that I have 
ever eaten.

    My work pleased the captain so well that he told me if I desired I 
could continue working for a small amount per day.  This I was very 
glad to do.  I continued working on this vessel for a number of days.  
After buying food with the small wages I received there was not much 
left to add on the amount I must get to pay my way to Hampton.  In 
order to economize in every way possible, so as to be sure to reach 
Hampton in a reasonable time, I continued to sleep under the same 
sidewalk that gave me shelter the first night I was in Richmond.  Many 
years after that the coloured citizens of Richmond very kindly 
tendered me a reception at which there must have been two thousand 
people present.  This reception was held not far from the spot where I 
slept the first night I spent in the city, and I must confess that my 
mind was more upon the sidewalk that first gave me shelter than upon 
the recognition, agreeable and cordial as it was.

    When I had saved what I considered enough money with which to 
reach Hampton, I thanked the captain of the vessel for his kindness, 
and started again.  Without any unusual occurrence I reached Hampton, 
with a surplus of exactly fifty cents with which to begin my 
education.  To me it had been a long, eventful journey; but the first 
sight of the large, three-story, brick school building seemed to have 
rewarded me for all that I had undergone in order to reach the place.  
If the people who gave the money to provide that building could 
appreciate the influence the sight of it had upon me, as well as upon 
thousands of other youths, they would feel all the more encouraged to 
make such gifts.  It seemed to me to be the largest and most beautiful 
building I had ever seen.  The sight of it seemed to give me new life.  
I felt that a new kind of existence had now begun -- that life would 
now have a new meaning.  I felt that I had reached the promised land, 
and I resolved to let no obstacle prevent me from putting forth the 
highest effort to fit myself to accomplish the most good in the world.

    As soon as possible after reaching the grounds of the Hampton 
Institute, I presented myself before the head teacher for an 
assignment to a class.  Having been so long without proper food, a 
bath, and a change of clothing, I did not, of course, make a very 
favourable impression upon her, and I could see at once that there 
were doubts in her mind about the wisdom of admitting me as a student.  
I felt that I could hardly blame her if she got the idea that I was a 
worthless loafer or tramp.  For some time she did not refuse to admit 
me, neither did she decide in my favour, and I continued to linger 
about her, and to impress her in all the ways I could with my 
worthiness.  In the meantime I saw her admitting other students, and 
that added greatly to my discomfort, for I felt, deep down in my 
heart, that I could do as well as they, if I could only get a chance 
to show what was in me.

    After some hours had passed, the head teacher said to me:  "The 
adjoining recitation-room needs sweeping.  Take the broom and sweep 
it."

    It occurred to me at once that here was my chance.  Never did i 
receive an order with more delight.  I knew that I could sweep, for 
Mrs. Ruffner had thoroughly taught me how to do that when I lived with 
her.

    I swept the recitation-room three times.  Then I got a dusting- 
cloth and dusted it four times.  All the woodwork around the walls, 
every bench, table, and desk, I went over four times with my dusting- 
cloth.  Besides, every piece of furniture had been moved and every 
closet and corner in the room had been thoroughly cleaned.  I had the 
feeling that in a large measure my future dependent upon the 
impression I made upon the teacher in the cleaning of that room.  When 
I was through, I reported to the head teacher.  She was a "Yankee" 
woman who knew just where to look for dirt.  She went into the room 
and inspected the floor and closets; then she took her handkerchief 
and rubbed it on the woodwork about the walls, and over the table and 
benches.  When she was unable to find one bit of dirt on the floor, or 
a particle of dust on any of the furniture, she quietly remarked, "I 
guess you will do to enter this institution."

    I was one of the happiest souls on Earth.  The sweeping of that 
room was my college examination, and never did any youth pass an 
examination for entrance into Harvard or Yale that gave him more 
genuine satisfaction.  I have passed several examinations since then, 
but I have always felt that this was the best one I ever passed.

    I have spoken of my own experience in entering the Hampton 
Institute.  Perhaps few, if any, had anything like the same experience 
that I had, but about the same period there were hundreds who found 
their way to Hampton and other institutions after experiencing 
something of the same difficulties that I went through.  The young men 
and women were determined to secure an education at any cost.

    The sweeping of the recitation-room in the manner that I did it 
seems to have paved the way for me to get through Hampton.  Miss Mary 
F. Mackie, the head teacher, offered me a position as janitor.  This, 
of course, I gladly accepted, because it was a place where I could 
work out nearly all the cost of my board.  The work was hard and 
taxing but I stuck to it.  I had a large number of rooms to care for, 
and had to work late into the night, while at the same time I had to 
rise by four o'clock in the morning, in order to build the fires and 
have a little time in which to prepare my lessons.  In all my career 
at Hampton, and ever since I have been out in the world, Miss Mary F. 
Mackie, the head teacher to whom I have referred, proved one of my 
strongest and most helpful friends.  Her advice and encouragement were 
always helpful in strengthening to me in the darkest hour.

    I have spoken of the impression that was made upon me by the 
buildings and general appearance of the Hampton Institute, but I have 
not spoken of that which made the greatest and most lasting impression 
on me, and that was a great man -- the noblest, rarest human being 
that it has ever been my privilege to meet.  I refer to the late 
General Samuel C. Armstrong.

    It has been my fortune to meet personally many of what are called 
great characters, both in Europe and America, but I do not hesitate to 
say that I never met any man who, in my estimation, was the equal of 
General Armstrong.  Fresh from the degrading influences of the slave 
plantation and the coal-mines, it was a rare privilege for me to be 
permitted to come into direct contact with such a character as General 
Armstrong.  I shall always remember that the first time I went into 
his presence he made the impression upon me of being a perfect man:  I 
was made to feel that there was something about him that was 
superhuman.  It was my privilege to know the General personally from 
the time I entered Hampton till he died, and the more I saw of him the 
greater he grew in my estimation.  One might have removed from Hampton 
all the buildings, class-rooms, teachers, and industries, and given 
the men and women there the opportunity of coming into daily contact 
with General Armstrong, and that alone would have been a liberal 
education.  The older I grow, the more I am convinced that there is no 
education which one can get from books and costly apparatus that is 
equal to that which can be gotten from contact with great men and 
women.  Instead of studying books so constantly, how I wish that our 
schools and colleges might learn to study men and things!

    General Armstrong spent two of the last six months of his life in 
my home at Tuskegee.  At that time he was paralyzed to the extent that 
he had lost control of his body and voice in a very large degree.  
Notwithstanding his affliction, he worked almost constantly night and 
day for the cause to which he had given his life.  I never saw a man 
who so completely lost sight of himself.  I do not believe he ever had 
a selfish thought.  He was just as happy in trying to assist some 
other institution in the South as he was when working for Hampton.  
Although he fought the Southern white man in the Civil War, I never 
heard him utter a bitter word against him afterward.  On the other 
hand, he was constantly seeking to find ways by which he could be of 
service to the Southern whites.

    It would be difficult to describe the hold that he had upon the 
students at Hampton, or the faith they had in him.  In fact, he was 
worshipped by his students.  It never occurred to me that General 
Armstrong could fail in anything that he undertook.  There is almost 
no request that he could have made that would not have been complied 
with.  When he was a guest at my home in Alabama, and was so badly 
paralyzed that he had to be wheeled about in an invalid's chair, I 
recall that one of the General's former students had occasion to push 
his chair up a long, steep hill that taxed his strength to the utmost.  
When the top of the hill was reached, the former pupil, with a glow of 
happiness on his face, exclaimed, "I am so glad that I have been 
permitted to do something that was real hard for the General before he 
dies!"  While I was a student at Hampton, the dormitories became so 
crowded that it was impossible to find room for all who wanted to be 
admitted.  In order to help remedy the difficulty, the General 
conceived the plan of putting up tents to be used as rooms.  As soon 
as it became known that General Armstrong would be pleased if some of 
the older students would live in the tents during the winter, nearly 
every student in school volunteered to go.

    I was one of the volunteers.  The winter that we spent in those 
tents was an intensely cold one, and we suffered severely -- how much 
I am sure General Armstrong never knew, because we made no complaints.  
It was enough for us to know that we were pleasing General Armstrong, 
and that we were making it possible for an additional number of 
students to secure an education.  More than once, during a cold night, 
when a stiff gale would be blowing, our tend was lifted bodily, and we 
would find ourselves in the open air.  The General would usually pay a 
visit to the tents early in the morning, and his earnest, cheerful, 
encouraging voice would dispel any feeling of despondency.

    I have spoken of my admiration for General Armstrong, and yet he 
was but a type of that Christlike body of men and women who went into 
the Negro schools at the close of the war by the hundreds to assist in 
lifting up my race.  The history of the world fails to show a higher, 
purer, and more unselfish class of men and women than those who found 
their way into those Negro schools.

    Life at Hampton was a constant revelation to me; was constantly 
taking me into a new world.  The matter of having meals at regular 
hours, of eating on a tablecloth, using a napkin, the use of the bath- 
tub and of the tooth-brush, as well as the use of sheets upon the bed, 
were all new to me.

    I sometimes feel that almost the most valuable lesson I got at the 
Hampton Institute was in the use and value of the bath.  I learned 
there for the first time some of its value, not only in keeping the 
body healthy, but in inspiring self-respect and promoting virtue.  In 
all my travels in the South and elsewhere since leaving Hampton I have 
always in some way sought my daily bath.  To get it sometimes when I 
have been the guest of my own people in a single-roomed cabin has not 
always been easy to do, except by slipping away to some stream in the 
woods.  I have always tried to teach my people that some provision for 
bathing should be a part of every house.

    For some time, while a student at Hampton, I possessed but a 
single pair of socks, but when I had worn these till they became 
soiled, I would wash them at night and hang them by the fire to dry, 
so that I might wear them again the next morning.

    The charge for my board at Hampton was ten dollars per month.  I 
was expected to pay a part of this in cash and to work out the 
remainder.  To meet this cash payment, as I have stated, I had just 
fifty cents when I reached the institution.  Aside from a very few 
dollars that my brother John was able to send me once in a while, I 
had no money with which to pay my board.  I was determined from the 
first to make my work as janitor so valuable that my services would be 
indispensable.  This I succeeded in doing to such an extent that I was 
soon informed that I would be allowed the full cost of my board in 
return for my work.  The cost of tuition was seventy dollars a year.  
This, of course, was wholly beyond my ability to provide.  If I had 
been compelled to pay the seventy dollars for tuition, in addition to 
providing for my board, I would have been compelled to leave the 
Hampton school.  General Armstrong, however, very kindly got Mr. S. 
Griffitts Morgan, of New Bedford, Mass., to defray the cost of my 
tuition during the whole time that I was at Hampton.  After I finished 
the course at Hampton and had entered upon my lifework at Tuskegee, I 
had the pleasure of visiting Mr. Morgan several times.

    After having been for a while at Hampton, I found myself in 
difficulty because I did not have book and clothing.  Usually, 
however, I got around the trouble about books by borrowing from those 
who were more fortunate than myself.  As to clothes, when I reached 
Hampton I had practically nothing.  Everything that I possessed was in 
a small hand satchel.  My anxiety about clothing was increased because 
of the fact that General Armstrong made a personal inspection of the 
young men in ranks, to see that their clothes were clean.  Shoes had 
to be polished, there must be no buttons off the clothing, and no 
grease-spots.  To wear one suit of clothes continually, while at work 
and in the schoolroom, and at the same time keep it clean, was rather 
a hard problem for me to solve.  In some way I managed to get on till 
the teachers learned that I was in earnest and meant to succeed, and 
then some of them were kind enough to see that I was partly supplied 
with second-hand clothing that had been sent in barrels from the 
North.  These barrels proved a blessing to hundreds of poor but 
deserving students.  Without them I question whether I should ever 
have gotten through Hampton.

    When I first went to Hampton I do not recall that I had ever slept 
in a bed that had two sheets on it.  In those days there were not many 
buildings there, and room was very precious.  There were seven other 
boys in the same room with me; most of them, however, students who had 
been there for some time.  The sheets were quite a puzzle to me.  The 
first night I slept under both of them, and the second night I slept 
on top of them; but by watching the other boys I learned my lesson in 
this, and have been trying to follow it ever since and to teach it to 
others.

    I was among the youngest of the students who were in Hampton at 
the time.  Most of the students were men and women -- some as old as 
forty years of ago.  As I now recall the scene of my first year, I do 
not believe that one often has the opportunity of coming into contact 
with three or four hundred men and women who were so tremendously in 
earnest as these men and women were.  Every hour was occupied in study 
or work.  Nearly all had had enough actual contact with the world to 
teach them the need of education.  Many of the older ones were, of 
course, too old to master the text-books very thoroughly, and it was 
often sad to watch their struggles; but they made up in earnest much 
of what they lacked in books.  Many of them were as poor as I was, 
and, besides having to wrestle with their books, they had to struggle 
with a poverty which prevented their having the necessities of life.  
Many of them had aged parents who were dependent upon them, and some 
of them were men who had wives whose support in some way they had to 
provide for.

    The great and prevailing idea that seemed to take possession of 
every one was to prepare himself to lift up the people at his home.  
No one seemed to think of himself.  And the officers and teachers, 
what a rare set of human beings they were!  They worked for the 
students night and day, in seasons and out of season.  They seemed 
happy only when they were helping the students in some manner.  
Whenever it is written -- and I hope it will be -- the part that the 
Yankee teachers played in the education of the Negroes immediately 
after the war will make one of the most thrilling parts of the history 
off this country.  The time is not far distant when the whole South 
will appreciate this service in a way that it has not yet been able to 
do.

                              CHAPTER IV

                            HELPING OTHERS

AT the end of my first year at Hampton I was confronted with another 
difficulty.  Most of the students went home to spend their vacation.  
I had no money with which to go home, but I had to go somewhere.  In 
those days very few students were permitted to remain at the school 
during vacation.  It made me feel very sad and homesick to see the 
other students preparing to leave and starting for home.  I not only 
had no money with which to go home, but I had none with which to go 
anywhere.

    In some way, however, I had gotten hold of an extra, second-hand 
coat which I thought was a pretty valuable coat.  This I decided to 
sell, in order to get a little money for travelling expenses.  I had a 
good deal of boyish pride, and I tried to hide, as far as I could, 
from the other students the fact that I had no money and nowhere to 
go.  I made it known to a few people in the town of Hampton that I had 
this coat to sell, and, after a good deal of persuading, one coloured 
man promised to come to my room to look the coat over and consider the 
matter of buying it.  This cheered my drooping spirits considerably.  
Early the next morning my prospective customer appeared.  After 
looking the garment over carefully, he asked me how much I wanted for 
it.  I told him I thought it was worth three dollars.  He seemed to 
agree with me as to price, but remarked in the most matter-of-fact 
way:  "I tell you what I will do; I will take the coat, and will pay 
you five cents, cash down, and pay you the rest of the money just as 
soon as I can get it."  It is not hard to imagine what my feelings 
were at the time.

    With this disappointment I gave up all hope of getting out of the 
town of Hampton for my vacation work.  I wanted very much to go where 
I might secure work that would at least pay me enough to purchase some 
much-needed clothing and other necessities.  In a few days practically 
all the students and teachers had left for their homes, and this 
served to depress my spirits even more.

    After trying for several days in and near the town of Hampton, I 
finally secured work in a restaurant at Fortress Monroe.  The wages, 
however, were very little more than my board.  At night, and between 
meals, I found considerable time for study and reading; and in this 
direction I improved myself very much during the summer.

    When I left school at the end of my first year, I owed the 
institution sixteen dollars that I had not been able to work out.  It 
was my greatest ambition during the summer to save money enough with 
which to pay this debt.  I felt that this was a debt of honour, and 
that I could hardly bring myself to the point of even trying to enter 
school again till it was paid.  I economized in every way that I could 
think of -- did my own washing, and went without necessary garments -- 
but still I found my summer vacation ending and I did not have the 
sixteen dollars.

    One day, during the last week of my stay in the restaurant, I 
found under one of the tables a crisp, new ten-dollar bill.  I could 
hardly contain myself, I was so happy.  As it was not my place of 
business I felt it to be the proper thing to show the money to the 
proprietor.  This I did.  He seemed as glad as I was, but he coolly 
explained to me that, as it was his place of business, he had a right 
to keep the money, and he proceeded to do so.  This, I confess, was 
another pretty hard blow to me.  I will not say that I became 
discouraged, for as I now look back over my life I do not recall that 
I ever became discouraged over anything that I set out to accomplish.  
I have begun everything with the idea that I could succeed, and I 
never had much patience with the multitudes of people who are always 
ready to explain why one cannot succeed.  I determined to face the 
situation just as it was.  At the end of the week I went to the 
treasurer of the Hampton Institute, General J.F.B. Marshall, and told 
him frankly my condition.  To my gratification he told me that I could 
reenter the institution, and that he would trust me to pay the debt 
when I could.  During the second year I continued to work as a 
janitor.

    The education that I received at Hampton out of the text-books was 
but a small part of what I learned there.  One of the things that 
impressed itself upon me deeply, the second year, was the 
unselfishness of the teachers.  It was hard for me to understand how 
any individuals could bring themselves to the point where they could 
be so happy in working for others.  Before the end of the year, I 
think I began learning that those who are happiest are those who do 
the most for others.  This lesson I have tried to carry with me ever 
since.

    I also learned a valuable lesson at Hampton by coming into contact 
with the best breeds of live stock and fowls.  No student, I think, 
who has had the opportunity of doing this could go out into the world 
and content himself with the poorest grades.

    Perhaps the most valuable thing that I got out of my second year 
was an understanding of the use and value of the Bible.  Miss Nathalie 
Lord, one of the teachers, from Portland, Me., taught me how to use 
and love the Bible.  Before this I had never cared a great deal about 
it, but now I learned to love to read the Bible, not only for the 
spiritual help which it gives, but on account of it as literature.  
The lessons taught me in this respect took such a hold upon me that at 
the present time, when I am at home, no matter how busy I am, I always 
make it a rule to read a chapter or a portion of a chapter in the 
morning, before beginning the work of the day.

    Whatever ability I may have as a public speaker I owe in a measure 
to Miss Lord.  When she found out that I had some inclination in this 
direction, she gave me private lessons in the matter of breathing, 
emphasis, and articulation.  Simply to be able to talk in public for 
the sake of talking has never had the least attraction to me.  In 
fact, I consider that there is nothing so empty and unsatisfactory as 
mere abstract public speaking; but from my early childhood I have had 
a desire to do something to make the world better, and then to be able 
to speak to the world about that thing.

    The debating societies at Hampton were a constant source of 
delight to me.  These were held on Saturday evening; and during my 
whole life at Hampton I do not recall that I missed a single meeting.  
I not only attended the weekly debating society, but was instrumental 
in organizing an additional society.  I noticed that between the time 
when supper was over and the time to begin evening study there were 
about twenty minutes which the young men usually spent in idle gossip.  
About twenty of us formed a society for the purpose of utilizing this 
time in debate or in practice in public speaking.  Few persons ever 
derived more happiness or benefit from the use of twenty minutes of 
time than we did in this way.

    At the end of my second year at Hampton, by the help of some money 
sent me by my mother and brother John, supplemented by a small gift 
from one of the teachers at Hampton, I was enabled to return to my 
home in Malden, West Virginia, to spend my vacation.  When I reached 
home I found that the salt-furnaces were not running, and that the 
coal-mine was not being operated on account of the miners being out on 
"strike."  This was something which, it seemed, usually occurred 
whenever the men got two or three months ahead in their savings.  
During the strike, of course, they spent all that they had saved, and 
would often return to work in debt at the same wages, or would move to 
another mine at considerable expense.  In either case, my observations 
convinced me that the miners were worse off at the end of the strike.  
Before the days of strikes in that section of the country, I knew 
miners who had considerable money in the bank, but as soon as the 
professional labour agitators got control, the savings of even the 
more thrifty ones began disappearing.

    My mother and the other members of my family were, of course, much 
rejoiced to see me and to note the improvement that I had made during 
my two years' absence.  The rejoicing on the part of all classes of 
the coloured people, and especially the older ones, over my return, 
was almost pathetic.  I had to pay a visit to each family and take a 
meal with each, and at each place tell the story of my experiences at 
Hampton.  In addition to this I had to speak before the church and 
Sunday-school, and at various other places.  The thing that I was most 
in search of, though, work, I could not find.  There was no work on 
account of the strike.  I spent nearly the whole of the first month of 
my vacation in an effort to find something to do by which I could earn 
money to pay my way back to Hampton and save a little money to use 
after reaching there.

    Toward the end of the first month, I went to place a considerable 
distance from my home, to try to find employment.  I did not succeed, 
and it was night before I got started on my return.  When I had gotten 
within a mile or so of my home I was so completely tired out that I 
could not walk any farther, and I went into an old, abandoned house to 
spend the remainder of the night.  About three o'clock in the morning 
my brother John found me asleep in this house, and broke to me, as 
gently as he could, the sad news that our dear mother had died during 
the night.

    This seemed to me the saddest and blankest moment in my life.  For 
several years my mother had not been in good health, but I had no 
idea, when I parted from her the previous day, that I should never see 
her alive again.  Besides that, I had always had an intense desire to 
be with her when she did pass away.  One of the chief ambitions which 
spurred me on at Hampton was that I might be able to get to be in a 
position in which I could better make my mother comfortable and happy.  
She had so often expressed the wish that she might be permitted to 
live to see her children educated and started out in the world.

    In a very short time after the death of my mother our little home 
was in confusion.  My sister Amanda, although she tried to do the best 
she could, was too young to know anything about keeping house, and my 
stepfather was not able to hire a housekeeper.  Sometimes we had food 
cooked for us, and sometimes we did not.  I remember that more than 
once a can of tomatoes and some crackers constituted a meal.  Our 
clothing went uncared for, and everything about our home was soon in a 
tumble-down condition.  It seems to me that this was the most dismal 
period of my life.

    My good friend, Mrs. Ruffner, to whom I have already referred, 
always made me welcome at her home, and assisted me in many ways 
during this trying period.  Before the end of the vacation she gave me 
some work, and this, together with work in a coal-mine at some 
distance from my home, enabled me to earn a little money.

    At one time it looked as if I would have to give up the idea of 
returning to Hampton, but my heart was so set on returning that I 
determined not to give up going back without a struggle.  I was very 
anxious to secure some clothes for the winter, but in this I was 
disappointed, except for a few garments which my brother John secured 
for me.  Notwithstanding my need of money and clothing, I was very 
happy in the fact that I had secured enough money to pay my travelling 
expenses back to Hampton.  Once there, I knew that I could make myself 
so useful as a janitor that I could in some way get through the school 
year.

    Three weeks before the time for the opening of the term at 
Hampton, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from my good 
friend Miss Mary F. Mackie, the lady principal, asking me to return to 
Hampton two weeks before the opening of the school, in order that I 
might assist her in cleaning the buildings and getting things in order 
for the new school year.  This was just the opportunity I wanted.  It 
gave me a chance to secure a credit in the treasurer's office.  I 
started for Hampton at once.

    During these two weeks I was taught a lesson which I shall never 
forget.  Miss Mackie was a member of one of the oldest and most 
cultured families of the North, and yet for two weeks she worked by my 
side cleaning windows, dusting rooms, putting beds in order, and what 
not.  She felt that things would not be in condition for the opening 
of school unless every window-pane was perfectly clean, and she took 
the greatest satisfaction in helping to clean them herself.  The work 
which I have described she did every year that I was at Hampton.

    It was hard for me at this time to understand how a woman of her 
education and social standing could take such delight in performing 
such service, in order to assist in the elevation of an unfortunate 
race.  Ever since then I have had no patience with any school for my 
race in the South which did not teach its students the dignity of 
labour.

    During my last year at Hampton every minute of my time that was 
not occupied with my duties as janitor was devoted to hard study.  I 
was determined, if possible, to make such a record in my class as 
would cause me to be placed on the "honour roll" of Commencement 
speakers.  This I was successful in doing.  It was June of 1875 when I 
finished the regular course of study at Hampton.  The greatest 
benefits that I got out of my at the Hampton Institute, perhaps, may 
be classified under two heads: --

    First was contact with a great man, General S.C. Armstrong, who, I 
repeat, was, in my opinion, the rarest, strongest, and most beautiful 
character that it has ever been my privilege to meet.

    Second, at Hampton, for the first time, I learned what education 
was expected to do for an individual.  Before going there I had a good 
deal of the then rather prevalent idea among our people that to secure 
an education meant to have a good, easy time, free from all necessity 
for manual labour.  At Hampton I not only learned that it was not a 
disgrace to labour, but learned to love labour, not alone for its 
financial value, but for labour's own sake and for the independence 
and self-reliance which the ability to do something which the world 
wants done brings.  At that institution I got my first taste of what 
it meant to live a life of unselfishness, my first knowledge of the 
fact that the happiest individuals are those who do the most to make 
others useful and happy.

    I was completely out of money when I graduated.  In company with 
our other Hampton students, I secured a place as a table waiter in a 
summer hotel in Connecticut, and managed to borrow enough money with 
which to get there.  I had not been in this hotel long before I found 
out that I knew practically nothing about waiting on a hotel table.  
The head waiter, however, supposed that I was an accomplished waiter.  
He soon gave me charge of the table at which their sat four or five 
wealthy and rather aristocratic people.  My ignorance of how to wait 
upon them was so apparent that they scolded me in such a severe manner 
that I became frightened and left their table, leaving them sitting 
there without food.  As a result of this I was reduced from the 
position of waiter to that of a dish-carrier.

    But I determined to learn the business of waiting, and did so 
within a few weeks and was restored to my former position.  I have had 
the satisfaction of being a guest in this hotel several times since I 
was a waiter there.

    At the close of the hotel season I returned to my former home in 
Malden, and was elected to teach the coloured school at that place.  
This was the beginning of one of the happiest periods of my life.  I 
now felt that I had the opportunity to help the people of my home town 
to a higher life.  I felt from the first that mere book education was 
not all that the young people of that town needed.  I began my work at 
eight o'clock in the morning, and, as a rule, it did not end until ten 
o'clock at night.  In addition to the usual routine of teaching, I 
taught the pupils to comb their hair, and to keep their hands and 
faces clean, as well as their clothing.  I gave special attention to 
teaching them the proper use of the tooth-brush and the bath.  In all 
my teaching I have watched carefully the influence of the tooth-brush, 
and I am convinced that there are few single agencies of civilization 
that are more far-reaching.

    There were so many of the older boys and girls in the town, as 
well as men and women, who had to work in the daytime and still were 
craving an opportunity for an education, that I soon opened a night- 
school.  From the first, this was crowded every night, being about as 
large as the school that I taught in the day.  The efforts of some of 
the men and women, who in many cases were over fifty years of age, to 
learn, were in some cases very pathetic.

    My day and night school work was not all that I undertook.  I 
established a small reading-room and a debating society.  On Sundays I 
taught two Sunday-schools, one in the town of Malden in the afternoon, 
and the other in the morning at a place three miles distant from 
Malden.  In addition to this, I gave private lessons to several young 
men whom I was fitting to send to the Hampton Institute.  Without 
regard to pay and with little thought of it, I taught any one who 
wanted to learn anything that I could teach him.  I was supremely 
happy in the opportunity of being able to assist somebody else.  I did 
receive, however, a small salary from the public fund, for my work as 
a public-school teacher.

    During the time that I was a student at Hampton my older brother, 
John, not only assisted me all that he could, but worked all of the 
time in the coal-mines in order to support the family.  He willingly 
neglected his own education that he might help me.  It was my earnest 
wish to help him to prepare to enter Hampton, and to save money to 
assist him in his expenses there.  Both of these objects I was 
successful in accomplishing.  In three years my brother finished the 
course at Hampton, and he is now holding the important position of 
Superintendent of Industries at Tuskegee.  When he returned from 
Hampton, we both combined our efforts and savings to send our adopted 
brother, James, through the Hampton Institute.  This we succeeded in 
doing, and he is now the postmaster at the Tuskegee Institute.  The 
year 1877, which was my second year of teaching in Malden, I spent 
very much as I did the first.

    It was while my home was at Malden that what was known as the "Ku 
Klux Klan" was in the height of its activity.  The "Ku Klux" were 
bands of men who had joined themselves together for the purpose of 
regulating the conduct of the coloured people, especially with the 
object of preventing the members of the race from exercising any 
influence in politics.  They corresponded somewhat to the "patrollers" 
of whom I used to hear a great deal during the days of slavery, when I 
was a small boy.  The "patrollers" were bands of white men -- usually 
young men -- who were organized largely for the purpose of regulating 
the conduct of the slaves at night in such matters as preventing the 
slaves from going from one plantation to another without passes, and 
for preventing them from holding any kind of meetings without 
permission and without the presence at these meetings of at least one 
white man.

    Like the "patrollers" the "Ku Klux" operated almost wholly at 
night.  They were, however, more cruel than the "patrollers."  Their 
objects, in the main, were to crush out the political aspirations of 
the Negroes, but they did not confine themselves to this, because 
schoolhouses as well as churches were burned by them, and many 
innocent persons were made to suffer.  During this period not a few 
coloured people lost their lives.

    As a young man, the acts of these lawless bands made a great 
impression upon me.  I saw one open battle take place at Malden 
between some of the coloured and white people.  There must have been 
not far from a hundred persons engaged on each side; many on both 
sides were seriously injured, among them General Lewis Ruffner, the 
husband of my friend Mrs. Viola Ruffner.  General Ruffner tried to 
defend the coloured people, and for this he was knocked down and so 
seriously wounded that he never completely recovered.  It seemed to me 
as I watched this struggle between members of the two races, that 
there was no hope for our people in this country.  The "Ku Klux" 
period was, I think, the darkest part of the Reconstruction days.

    I have referred to this unpleasant part of the history of the 
South simply for the purpose of calling attention to the great change 
that has taken place since the days of the "Ku Klux."  To-day there 
are no such organizations in the South, and the fact that such ever 
existed is almost forgotten by both races.  There are few places in 
the South now where public sentiment would permit such organizations 
to exist.

                              CHAPTER V

                      THE RECONSTRUCTION PERIOD

THE years from 1867 to 1878 I think may be called the period of 
Reconstruction.  This included the time that I spent as a student at 
Hampton and as a teacher in West Virginia.  During the whole of the 
Reconstruction period two ideas were constantly agitating in the minds 
of the coloured people, or, at least, in the minds of a large part of 
the race.  One of these was the craze for Greek and Latin learning, 
and the other was a desire to hold office.

    It could not have been expected that a people who had spent 
generations in slavery, and before that generations in the darkest 
heathenism, could at first form any proper conception of what an 
education meant.  In every part of the South, during the 
Reconstruction period, schools, both day and night, were filled to 
overflowing with people of all ages and conditions, some being as far 
along in age as sixty and seventy years.  The ambition to secure an 
education was most praiseworthy and encouraging.  The idea, however, 
was too prevalent that, as soon as one secured a little education, in 
some unexplainable way he would be free from most of the hardships of 
the world, and, at any rate, could live without manual labour.  There 
was a further feeling that a knowledge, however little, of the Greek 
and Latin languages would make one a very superior human being, 
something bordering almost on the supernatural.  I remember that the 
first coloured man whom I saw who knew something about foreign 
languages impressed me at the time as being a man of all others to be 
envied.

    Naturally, most of our people who received some little education 
became teachers or preachers.  While among those two classes there 
were many capable, earnest, godly men and women, still a large 
proportion took up teaching or preaching as an easy way to make a 
living.  Many became teachers who could do little more than write 
their names.  I remember there came into our neighbourhood one of this 
class, who was in search of a school to teach, and the question arose 
while he was there as to the shape of the earth and how he could teach 
the children concerning the subject.  He explained his position in the 
matter by saying that he was prepared to teach that the earth was 
either flat or round, according to the preference of a majority of his 
patrons.

    The ministry was the profession that suffered most -- and still 
suffers, though there has been great improvement -- on account of not 
only ignorant but in many cases immoral men who claimed that they were 
"called to preach."  In the earlier days of freedom almost every 
coloured man who learned to read would receive "a call to preach" 
within a few days after he began reading.  At my home in West Virginia 
the process of being called to the ministry was a very interesting 
one.  Usually the "call" came when the individual was sitting in 
church.  Without warning the one called would fall upon the floor as 
if struck by a bullet, ,and would be there for hours, speechless and 
motionless.  Then the news would spread all through the neighborhood 
that this individual had received a "call."  If he were inclined to 
resist the summons, he would fall or be made to fall a second or third 
time.  In the end he always yielded to the call.  While I wanted an 
education badly, I confess that in my youth I had a fear that when I 
had learned to read and write very well I would receive one of these 
"calls"; but, for some reason, my call never came.

    When we add the number of wholly ignorant men who preached or 
"exhorted" to that of those who possessed something of an education, 
it can be seen at a glance that the supply of ministers was large.  In 
fact, some time ago I knew a certain church that had a total 
membership of about two hundred, and eighteen of that number were 
ministers.  But, I repeat, in many communities in the South the 
character of the ministry is being improved, and I believe that within 
the next two or three decades a very large proportion of the unworthy 
ones will have disappeared.  The "calls" to preach, I am glad to say, 
are not nearly so numerous now as they were formerly, and the calls to 
some industrial occupation are growing more numerous.  The improvement 
that has taken place in the character of the teachers is even more 
marked than in the case of the ministers.

    During the whole of the Reconstruction period our people 
throughout the South looked to the Federal Government for everything, 
very much as a child looks to its mother.  This was not unnatural.  
The central government gave them freedom, and the whole Nation had 
been enriched for more than two centuries by the labour of the Negro.  
Even as a youth, and later in manhood, I had the feeling that it was 
cruelly wrong in the central government, at the beginning of our 
freedom, to fail to make some provision for the general education of 
our people in addition to what the states might do, so that the people 
would be the better prepared for the duties of citizenship.

    It is easy to find fault, to remark what might have been done, and 
perhaps, after all, and under all the circumstances, those in charge 
of the conduct of affairs did the only thing that could be done at the 
time.  Still, as I look back now over the entire period of our 
freedom, I cannot help feeling that it would have been wiser if some 
plan could have been put in operation which would have made the 
possession of a certain amount of education or property, or both, a 
test for the exercise of the franchise, and a way provided by which 
this test should be made to apply honestly and squarely to both the 
white and black races.

    Though I was but little more than a youth during the period of 
Reconstruction, I had the feeling that mistakes were being made, and 
that things could not remain in the condition that they were in then 
very long.  I felt that the Reconstruction policy, so far as it 
related to my race, was in a large measure on a false foundation, was 
artificial and forced.  In many cases it seemed to me that the 
ignorance of my race was being used as a tool with which to help white 
men into office, and that there was an element in the North which 
wanted to punish the Southern white men by forcing the Negro into 
positions over the heads of the Southern whites.  I felt that the 
Negro would be the one to suffer for this in the end.  Besides, the 
general political agitation drew the attention of our people away from 
the more fundamental matters of perfecting themselves in the 
industries at their doors and in securing property.

    The temptations to enter political life were so alluring that I 
came very near yielding to them at one time, but I was kept from doing 
so by the feeling that I would be helping in a more substantial way by 
assisting in the laying of the foundation of the race through a 
generous education of the hand, head, and heart.  I saw coloured men 
who were members of the state legislatures, and county officers, who, 
in some cases, could not read or write, and whose morals were as weak 
as their education.  Not long ago, when passing through the streets of 
a certain city in the South, I heard some brick-masons calling out, 
from the top of a two-story brick building on which they were working, 
for the "Governor" to "hurry up and bring up some more bricks."  
Several times I heard the command, "Hurry up, Governor!"  "Hurry up, 
Governor!"  My curiosity was aroused to such an extent that I made 
inquiry as to who the "Governor" was, and soon found that he was a 
coloured man who at one time had held the position of Lieutenant- 
Governor of his state.

    But not all the coloured people who were in office during 
Reconstruction were unworthy of their positions, by any means.  Some 
of them, like the late Senator B.K. Bruce, Governor Pinchback, and 
many others, were strong, upright, useful men.  Neither were all the 
class designated as carpetbaggers dishonourable men.  Some of them, 
like ex-Governor Bullock, of Georgia, were men of high character and 
usefulness.

    Of course the coloured people, so largely without education, and 
wholly without experience in government, made tremendous mistakes, 
just as many people similarly situated would have done.  Many of the 
Southern whites have a feeling that, if the Negro is permitted to 
exercise his political rights now to any degree, the mistakes of the 
Reconstruction period will repeat themselves.  I do not think this 
would be true, because the Negro is a much stronger and wiser man than 
he was thirty-five years ago, and he is fast learning the lesson that 
he cannot afford to act in a manner that will alienate his Southern 
white neighbours from him.  More and more I am convinced that the 
final solution of the political end of our race problem will be for 
each state that finds it necessary to change the law bearing upon the 
franchise to make the law apply with absolute honesty, and without 
opportunity for double dealing or evasion, to both races alike.  Any 
other course my daily observation in the South convinces me, will be 
unjust to the Negro, unjust to the white man, and unfair to the rest 
of the state in the Union, and will be, like slavery, a sin that at 
some time we shall have to pay for.

    In the fall of 1878, after having taught school in Malden for two 
years, and after I had succeeded in preparing several of the young men 
and women, besides my two brothers, to enter the Hampton Institute, I 
decided to spend some months in study at Washington, D.C.  I remained 
there for eight months.  I derived a great deal of benefit from the 
studies which I pursued, and I came into contact with some strong men 
and women.  At the institution I attended there was no industrial 
training given to the students, and I had an opportunity of comparing 
the influence of an institution with no industrial training with that 
of one like the Hampton Institute, that emphasizes the industries.  At 
this school I found the students, in most cases, had more money, were 
better dressed, wore the latest style of all manner of clothing, and 
in some cases were more brilliant mentally.  At Hampton it was a 
standing rule that, while the institution would be responsible for 
securing some one to pay the tuition for the students, the men and 
women themselves must provide for their own board, books, clothing, 
and room wholly by work, or partly by work and partly in cash.  At the 
institution at which I now was, I found that a large portion of the 
students by some means had their personal expenses paid for them.  At 
Hampton the student was constantly making the effort through the 
industries to help himself, and that very effort was of immense value 
in character-building.  The students at the other school seemed to be 
less self-dependent.  They seemed to give more attention to mere 
outward appearances.  In a word, they did not appear to me to be 
beginning at the bottom, on a real, solid foundation, to the extent 
that they were at Hampton.  They knew more about Latin and Greek when 
they left school, but they seemed to know less about life and its 
conditions as they would meet it at their homes.  Having lived for a 
number of years in the midst of comfortable surroundings, they were 
not as much inclined as the Hampton students to go into the country 
districts of the South, where there was little of comfort, to take up 
work for our people, and they were more inclined to yield to the 
temptation to become hotel waiters and Pullman-car porters as their 
life-work.

    During the time I was a student at Washington the city was crowded 
with coloured people, many of whom had recently come from the South.  
A large proportion of these people had been drawn to Washington 
because they felt that they could lead a life of ease there.  Others 
had secured minor government positions, and still another large class 
was there in the hope of securing Federal positions.  A number of 
coloured men -- some of them very strong and brilliant -- were in the 
House of Representatives at that time, and one, the Hon. B.K. Bruce, 
was in the Senate.  All this tended to make Washington an attractive 
place for members of the coloured race.  Then, too, they knew that at 
all times they could have the protection of the law in the District of 
Columbia.  The public schools in Washington for coloured people were 
better then than they were elsewhere.  I took great interest in 
studying the life of our people there closely at that time.  I found 
that while among them there was a large element of substantial, worthy 
citizens, there was also a superficiality about the life of a large 
class that greatly alarmed me.  I saw young coloured men who were not 
earning more than four dollars a week spend two dollars or more for a 
buggy on Sunday to ride up and down Pennsylvania Avenue in, [sic] in 
order that they might try to convince the world that they were worth 
thousands.  I saw other young men who received seventy-five or one 
hundred dollars per month from the Government, who were in debt at the 
end of every month.  I saw men who but a few months previous were 
members of Congress, then without employment and in poverty.  Among a 
large class there seemed to be a dependence upon the Government for 
every conceivable thing.  The members of this class had little 
ambition to create a position for themselves, but wanted the Federal 
officials to create one for them.  How many times I wished them, and 
have often wished since, that by some power of magic I might remove 
the great bulk of these people into the county districts and plant 
them upon the soil, upon the solid and never deceptive foundation of 
Mother Nature, where all nations and races that have ever succeeded 
have gotten their start, -- a start that at first may be slow and 
toilsome, but one that nevertheless is real.

    In Washington I saw girls whose mothers were earning their living 
by laundrying.  These girls were taught by their mothers, in rather a 
crude way it is true, the industry of laundrying.  Later, these girls 
entered the public schools and remained there perhaps six or eight 
years.  When the public school course was finally finished, they 
wanted more costly dresses, more costly hats and shoes.  In a word, 
while their wants have been increased, their ability to supply their 
wants had not been increased in the same degree.  On the other hand, 
their six or eight years of book education had weaned them away from 
the occupation of their mothers.  The result of this was in too many 
cases that the girls went to the bad.  I often thought how much wiser 
it would have been to give these girls the same amount of maternal 
training -- and I favour any kind of training, whether in the 
languages or mathematics, that gives strength and culture to the mind 
-- but at the same time to give them the most thorough training in the 
latest and best methods of laundrying and other kindred occupations.

                              CHAPTER VI

                       BLACK RACE AND RED RACE

DURING the year that I spent in Washington, and for some little time 
before this, there had been considerable agitation in the state of 
West Virginia over the question of moving the capital of the state 
from Wheeling to some other central point.  As a result of this, the 
Legislature designated three cities to be voted upon by the citizens 
of the state as the permanent seat of government.  Among these cities 
was Charleston, only five miles from Malden, my home.  At the close of 
my school year in Washington I was very pleasantly surprised to 
receive, from a committee of three white people in Charleston, an 
invitation to canvass the state in the interests of that city.  This 
invitation I accepted, and spent nearly three months in speaking in 
various parts of the state.  Charleston was successful in winning the 
prize, and is now the permanent seat of government.

    The reputation that I made as a speaker during this campaign 
induced a number of persons to make an earnest effort to get me to 
enter political life, but I refused, still believing that I could find 
other service which would prove of more permanent value to my race.  
Even then I had a strong feeling that what our people most needed was 
to get a foundation in education, industry, and property, and for this 
I felt that they could better afford to strive than for political 
preferment.  As for my individual self, it appeared to me to be 
reasonably certain that I could succeed in political life, but I had a 
feeling that it would be a rather selfish kind of success -- 
individual success at the cost of failing to do my duty in assisting 
in laying a foundation for the masses.

    At this period in the progress of our race a very large proportion 
of the young men who went to school or to college did so with the 
expressed determination to prepare themselves to be great lawyers, or 
Congressmen, and many of the women planned to become music teachers; 
but I had a reasonably fixed idea, even at that early period in my 
life, that there was a need for something to be done to prepare the 
way for successful lawyers, Congressmen, and music teachers.

    I felt that the conditions were a good deal like those of an old 
coloured man, during the days of slavery, who wanted to learn how to 
play on the guitar.  In his desire to take guitar lessons he applied 
to one of his young masters to teach him, but the young man, not 
having much faith in the ability of the slave to master the guitar at 
his age, sought to discourage him by telling him:  "Uncle Jake, I will 
give you guitar lessons; but, Jake, I will have to charge you three 
dollars for the first lesson, two dollars for the second lesson, and 
one dollar for the third lesson.  But I will charge you only twenty- 
five cents for the last lesson."

    Uncle Jake answered:  "All right, boss, I hires you on dem terms.  
But, boss!  I wants yer to be sure an' give me dat las' lesson first."

    Soon after my work in connection with the removal of the capital 
was finished, I received an invitation which gave me great joy and 
which at the same time was a very pleasant surprise.  This was a 
letter from General Armstrong, inviting me to return to Hampton at the 
next Commencement to deliver what was called the "post-graduate 
address."  This was an honour which I had not dreamed of receiving.  
With much care I prepared the best address that I was capable of.  I 
chose for my subject "The Force That Wins."

    As I returned to Hampton for the purpose of delivering this 
address, I went over much of the same ground -- now, however, covered 
entirely by railroad -- that I had traversed nearly six years before, 
when I first sought entrance into Hampton Institute as a student.  Now 
I was able to ride the whole distance in the train.  I was constantly 
contrasting this with my first journey to Hampton.  I think I may say, 
without seeming egotism, that it is seldom that five years have 
wrought such a change in the life and aspirations of an individual.

    At Hampton I received a warm welcome from teachers and students.  
I found that during my absence from Hampton the institute each year 
had been getting closer to the real needs and conditions of our 
people; that the industrial reaching, as well as that of the academic 
department, had greatly improved.  The plan of the school was not 
modelled after that of any other institution then in existence, but 
every improvement was made under the magnificent leadership of General 
Armstrong solely with the view of meeting and helping the needs of our 
people as they presented themselves at the time.  Too often, it seems 
to me, in missionary and educational work among underdeveloped races, 
people yield to the temptation of doing that which was done a hundred 
years before, or is being done in other communities a thousand miles 
away.  The temptation often is to run each individual through a 
certain educational mould, regardless of the condition of the subject 
or the end to be accomplished.  This was not so at Hampton Institute.

    The address which I delivered on Commencement Day seems to have 
pleased every one, and many kind and encouraging words were spoken to 
me regarding it.  Soon after my return to my home in West Virginia, 
where I had planned to continue teaching, I was again surprised to 
receive a letter from General Armstrong, asking me to return to 
Hampton partly as a teacher and partly to pursue some supplementary 
studies.  This was in the summer of 1879.  Soon after I began my first 
teaching in West Virginia I had picked out four of the brightest and 
most promising of my pupils, in addition to my two brothers, to whom I 
have already referred, and had given them special attention, with the 
view of having them go to Hampton.  They had gone there, and in each 
case the teachers had found them so well prepared that they entered 
advanced classes.  This fact, it seems, led to my being called back to 
Hampton as a teacher.  One of the young men that I sent to Hampton in 
this way is now Dr. Samuel E. Courtney, a successful physician in 
Boston, and a member of the School Board of that city.

    About this time the experiment was being tried for the first time, 
by General Armstrong, of education Indians at Hampton.  Few people 
then had any confidence in the ability of the Indians to receive 
education and to profit by it.  General Armstrong was anxious to try 
the experiment systematically on a large scale.  He secured from the 
reservations in the Western states over one hundred wild and for t