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Library of Congress Subject Headings, 21st edition, 1998
LC Subject Headings:
BOOKER T. WASHINGTON AND HIS FAMILY.
BY
INTRODUCTION BY DR. J. L. M.
CURRY
COMMISSIONER PEABODY
AND SLATER FUNDS
FIFTIETH THOUSAND
THE ORIGINAL AUTOBIOGRAPHY
BROUGHT UP-TO-DATE WITH OVER
HALF A HUNDRED FULL PAGE
PHOTO AND HALFTONE ENGRAVINGS AND
DRAWINGS BY FRANK BEARD
HON. FREDERICK DOUGLASS.
DR. J. L. M. CURRY, WASHINGTON, D. C.
I HAVE cheerfully consented to prefix a few words introductory to this autobiography. While I have encouraged its publication, not a sentence has been submitted to my examination. From my intimate acquaintance with the subject, because of my connection with the Peabody and the Slater Education Funds, I am sure the volume has such a strong claim upon the people that no commendation is needed.
The life of Booker T. Washington cannot be written. Incidents of birth, parentage, schooling, early struggles, later triumphs, may be detailed with accuracy, but the life has been so incorporated, transfused, into such a multitude of other lives,--broadening views, exalting ideals, molding character,--that no human being can know its deep and beneficent influence, and no pen can describe it. Few living Americans have made a deeper impression on public opinion, softened or removed so many prejudices, or awakened greater hopefulness in relation to the solution of a problem, encompassed with a thousand difficulties and perplexing the minds of philanthropists and statesmen. His personality is unique,
his work has been exceptional, his circle of friendships has constantly widened; his race, through his utterances and labors, has felt an upward tendency, and he himself has been an example of what worth and energy can accomplish and a stimulus to every one of both races, aspiring to a better life and to doing good for others.
It has been said with truth that the race problem requires the patient and wise co-operation of the North and the South, of the white people and the Negroes. It is encouraging to see how one true, wise, prudent, courageous man can contribute far more than many men to the comprehension and settlement of questions which perplex the highest capabilities. Great eras have often revolved around an individual; and, so, in this country, it is singular that, contrary to what pessimists have predicted, a colored man, born a slave, freed by the results of the War, is accomplishing so much toward thorough pacification and good citizenship.
While Mr. Washington has achieved wonders, in his own recognition as a leader and by his thoughtful addresses, his largest work has been the founding and the building up of the Normal and Industrial Institute, at Tuskegee, Alabama. That institution illustrates what can be accomplished under the supervision, control, and teaching
of the colored people, and it stands conspicuous for industrial training, for intelligent productive labor, for increased usefulness in agriculture and mechanics, for self- respect and self-support, and for the purification of home- life. A late Circular of the Trustees of Hampton Institute makes the startling statement that "six millions of our Negroes are now living in one. room cabins." Under such conditions morality and progress are impossible. If the estimate be approximately correct, it enforces the wisdom of Mr. Washington in his earnest crusade against "the one- room cabin", and is an honorable tribute to the revolution wrought through his students in the communities where they have settled. Every student at Tuskegee, in the proportion of the impression produced by the Principal, becomes a better husband, a better wife, a better citizen, a better man or woman. A series of useful books on the "Great Educators" has been published in England and the United States. While Washington cannot, in learning and philosophy, be ranked with Herbart, Pestalozzi, Froebel, Hopkins, Wayland, Harris, he may be truly classed among those who have wrought grandest results on mind and character.
J. L. M. CURRY
WASHINGTON, D. C.
MR. WASHINGTON AND TWO OF HIS DISTINGUISHED FRIENDS AND SUPPORTERS.
THE
HOUSE IN VIRGINIA WHERE BOOKER T. WASHINGTON WAS BORN.
(STILL STANDING.)
Many requests have been made of me to write something of the story of my life. Until recently I have never given much consideration to these requests, for the reason that I have never thought that I had done enough in the world to warrant anything in the way of an autobiography; and I hope that my life work, by reason of my present age, lies more in the future than in the past. My daughter, Portia, said to me, not long ago: "Papa, do you know that you have never told me much about your early life, and your children want to know more about you." Then it came upon me as never before that I ought to put something about my life in writing for the sake of my family, if for no other reason.
I will not trouble those who read these lines with any
lengthy historical research concerning my ancestry, for I
know nothing of my ancestry beyond my mother. My
mother was a slave on a plantation near Hale's Ford, in
Franklin County,
I am indebted to and beg to thank Mr. E. Webber for valuable assistance rendered in connection with the preparation of this publication. BOOKER T. WASHINGTON.
Virginia, and she was, as I now remember it, the cook for her owners as well as for a large part of the slaves on the plantation. The first time that I got a knowledge of the fact that my mother and I were slaves, was by being awakened by my mother early one morning, while sleeping in a bed of rags, on the clay floor of our little cabin. She was kneeling over me, fervently praying as was her custom to do, that some day she and her children might be free. The name of my mother was Jane. She, to me, will always remain the noblest embodiment of womanhood with which I have come in contact. She was wholly ignorant, as far as books were concerned, and, I presume, never had a book in her hands for two minutes at a time. But the lessons in virtue and thrift which she instilled into me during the short period of my life that she lived will never leave me. Some people blame the Negro for not being more honest, as judged by the Anglo-Saxon's standard of honesty; but I can recall many times when, after all was dark and still, in the late hours of the night, when her children had been without sufficient food during the day, my mother would awaken us, and we would find that she had gotten from somewhere something in the way of eggs or chickens and cooked the food during the night for us. These eggs and chickens were gotten without my master's permission or
LITTLE BOOKER AND HIS MOTHER PRAYING TO BE DELIVERED FROM SLAVERY.
LITTLE
BOOKER, A FAVORITE WITH HIS MASTER, IS ALLOWED
TO PEEP INTO THE PARLOR OF THE "BIG HOUSE."
knowledge. Perhaps, by some code of ethics, this would be classed as stealing, but deep down in my heart I can never decide that my mother, under such circumstances, was guilty of theft. Had she acted thus as a free woman she would have been a thief, but not so, in my opinion, as a slave. After our freedom no one was stricter than my mother in teaching and observing the highest rules of integrity.
Who my father was, or is, I have never been able to learn with any degree of certainty. I only know that he was a white man.
As nearly as I can get at the facts, I was born in the year 1858 or 1859. At the time I came into the world no careful registry of births of people of my complexion was kept. My birthplace was near Hale's Ford, in Franklin County, Virginia. It was about as near to Nowhere as any locality gets to be, so far as I can learn. Hale's Ford, I think, was a town with one house and a post-office, and my birth place was on a large plantation several miles distant from it.
I remember very distinctly the appearance of the cabin in which I was born and lived until freedom came. It was a small log cabin about 12 x 16 feet, and without windows. There was no floor, except one of dirt. There was a large opening in the center of the floor, where sweet potatoes were kept for my master's family during
the winter. In this cabin my mother did the cooking, the greater part of the time, for my master's family. Our bed, or "pallet," as we called it, was made every night on the dirt floor. Our bed clothing consisted of a few rags gathered here and there.
One thing I remember more vividly than any other in connection with the days when I was a slave was my dress, or, rather, my lack of dress.
The years when the war*
was in progress between the
States were especially trying to the slaves, so far as
clothing was concerned. The Southern white people found
it extremely hard to get clothing for themselves during
that war, and, of course, the slaves underwent no little
suffering in this respect. The only garment that I
remember receiving from my owners during the war was
a "tow shirt." When I did not wear this shirt I was
positively without any garment. In Virginia, the tow shirt
was quite an institution during slavery. This shirt was
made of the refuse flax that grew in that part of Virginia,
and it was a veritable instrument of torture. It was stiff
and coarse. Until it had been worn for about six weeks it
made one feel as if a thousand needle points were
pricking his flesh. I suppose I was about six years old
when I was given one of these shirts to wear. After
repeated trials the
*
The War of the Rebellion, 1860-65.
torture was more than my childish flesh could endure and I gave it up in despair. To this day the sight of a new shirt revives the recollection of the tortures of my first new shirt. In the midst of my despair, in connection with this garment, my brother John, who was about two years older than I, did me a kindness which I shall never forget. He volunteered to wear my new shirt for me until it was "broken in." After he had worn it for several weeks I ventured to wear it myself, but not without pain.
Soon after my shirt experience, when the winter had grown quite cold, I received my first pair of shoes. These shoes had wooden bottoms, and the tops consisted of a coarse kind of leather. I have never felt so proud since of a pair of shoes.
As soon as I was old enough I performed what, to me, was important service, in holding the horses, and riding behind the white women of the household on their long horseback rides, which were very common in those days. At one time, while holding the horses and assisting quite a party of visiting ladies to mount their horses, I remember that, just before the visitors rode away, a tempting plate of ginger cakes was brought out and handed around to the visitors. This, I think, was the first time that I had ever seen any ginger cakes, and a very deep impression
was made upon my childish mind. I remember I said to myself that if I ever could get to the point where I could eat ginger cakes as I saw those ladies eating them, the height of my ambition would be reached.
When I grew to be still larger and stronger the duty of going to the mill was intrusted to me; that is, a large sack containing three or four bushels of corn was thrown across the back of a horse and I would ride away to the mill, which was often three or four miles distant, wait at the mill until the corn was turned into meal, and then bring it home. More than once, while performing this service, the corn or meal got unevenly balanced on the back of the horse and fell off into the road, carrying me with it. This left me in a very awkward and unfortunate position. I, of course, was unable, with my small strength, to lift the corn or meal upon the horse's back, and therefore would have to wait, often for hours, until someone happened to be passing along the road strong enough to replace the burden for me.
My owner's name was Jones Burroughs, and I am quite sure he was above the average in the treatment of his slaves. That is, except in a few cases, they were not cruelly whipped. Although I was born a slave, I was too young to experience much of its hardships. The thing in connection with slavery that has left the deepest impression
on me was the instance of seeing a grown man, my uncle, tied to a tree early one morning, stripped naked, and someone whipping him with a cowhide. As each blow touched his back the cry, "Pray, master! Pray, master!" came from his lips, and made an impression upon my boyish heart that I shall carry with me to my grave.
When I was still quite a child, I could hear the slaves in our "quarters" whispering in subdued tones that something unusual--the war--was about to take place, and that it meant their freedom. These whispered conferences continued, especially at night, until the war actually began.
While there was not a single slave on our plantation that could read a line, in some way we were kept informed of the progress of the war almost as accurately as the most intelligent person. The "grapevine" telegraph was in constant use. When Lee surrendered, all of the plantation people knew it, although all of them acted as if they were in ignorance of the fact that anything unusual had taken place.
Early one morning, just after the close of the war, word was sent around to the slave cabins that all the slaves must go to the "big house," the master's house; and in company with my mother and a large number of other slaves, including my sister Amanda and brother John, I went to the "big house," and stood by the
side of my mother, and listened to the reading of some papers and a little speech made by the man who read the papers. This was the first public address I had ever heard, and I need not add that it was the most effective one to which it had ever been my privilege to listen. After the reading of the paper, and the speech, my mother leaned over and whispered, "Now, my children, we are free." This act was hailed with joy by all the slaves, but it threw a tremendous responsibility upon my mother, as well as upon the other slaves. A large portion of the former slaves hired themselves to their owners, while others sought new employment; but, before the beginning of the new life, most of the ex-slaves left the plantation for a few days at least, so as to get the "hang" of the new life, and to be sure that they were free. My mother's husband, my stepfather, had in some way wandered into West Virginia during the war, and had secured employment in the salt furnace near Malden, in Kanawha county. Soon after freedom was declared he sought out my mother and sent a wagon to bring her and her children to West Virginia. After many days of slow, tiresome traveling over the mountains, during which we suffered much, we finally reached Malden, and my mother and her husband were united after a long enforced separation.
The trip from Franklin county to Malden,
West Virginia, was the first one that had taken me out of the county where I was born, and, of course, it was quite an event, especially to the children of the family, although the parting from the old homestead was to my mother a very serious affair. All of our household and other goods were packed into a small wagon drawn by two horses or mules. I cannot recall how many days it took us to make this trip, but it seems to me, as I recall it now, that we were at least ten days. Of course we had to sleep in the wagon, or what was more often true, on the ground. The children walked a great portion of the distance.
One night we camped near an abandoned log cabin, and my mother decided that, instead of cooking our frugal meal in the open air, as she had been accustomed to do on the trip, she would build a fire in this cabin and we should both cook and sleep in it during the night. When we had gotten the fire well started, to the consternation of all of us, a large and frightful looking snake came down the chimney. This, of course, did away with all idea of our sheltering ourselves in the cabin for the night, and we slept out in the open air, as we had done on previous occasions.
Since I have grown to manhood it has been my privilege to pass over much of the same road traveled on this first trip to West Virginia, but my recent journeys have been made in well-appointed
steam cars. At the time I first traveled through that part of Virginia and West Virginia there was no railroad, and if there had been we did not have the money to pay our fare.
At the close of the war our family consisted of my mother, step-father, my brother John and sister Amanda. My brother John is director of the mechanical department of the Tuskegee Institute, and my sister, now Mrs. Amanda Johnson, lives in Malden, West Virginia. Soon after we moved to West Virginia my mother took into our family, notwithstanding our own poverty, a young orphan boy who has always remained a part of our family. We gave him the name of James B. Washington. He, now grown to manhood, holds an important position at the Tuskegee Institute.
While I have not had the privilege of returning to the old homestead in Franklin county, Virginia, since I left there as a child immediately after the war, I have kept up more or less correspondence with members of the Burroughs family, and they seem to take the deepest interest in the progress of our work at Tuskegee.
THE
HOUSE IN WHICH
BOOKER T. WASHINGTON'S FAMILY LIVED IN WEST
VIRGINIA AT THE TIME HE
LEFT FOR HAMPTON INSTITUTE.
THE CABIN IN OLD VIRGINIA WHERE BOOKER T. WASHINGTON LIVED
WHEN A
SMALL BOY.
We began life in West Virginia in a little shanty, and lived in it for several years. My step-father soon obtained work for my brother John and myself in the salt furnaces and coal mines, and we worked alternately in them until about the year 1871. Soon after we reached West Virginia a school teacher, Mr. William Davis, came into the community, and the colored people induced him to open a school. My step-father was not able to spare me from work, so that I could attend this school, when it was first opened, and this proved a sore disappointment to me. I remember that soon after going to Malden, West Virginia, I saw a young colored man among a large number of colored people, reading a newspaper, and this fired my ambition to learn to read as nothing had done before. I said to myself, if I could ever reach the point where I could read as this man was doing, the acme of my ambition would be reached. Although I could not attend the school, I remember that, in some way, my mother secured a book for me, and although she could not read herself, she tried in every way possible to help me to do so.
Every barrel of salt that was packed in the
mines was marked, and by watching the letters that were put on the salt barrels I soon learned to read. As time went on, after considerable persuasion on my part, my step-father consented to permit me to attend the public school half of the day, provided I would get up very early in the morning and perform as much work as possible before school time. This permission brought me great joy. By four o'clock in the morning I was up and at my work, which continued until nearly nine o'clock. The first day I entered school, it seems to me, was the happiest day that I have ever known. The first embarrassment I experienced at school was in the matter of finding a name for myself. I had always been called "Booker," and had not known that one had use for more than one name. Some of the slaves took the surnames of their owners, but after freedom there was a prejudice against doing this, and a large part of the colored people gave themselves new names. When the teacher called the roll, I noticed that be called each pupil by two names, that is a given name and a surname. When he came to me he asked for my full name, and I told him to put me down as "Booker Washington," and that name I have borne ever since. It is not every school boy who has the privilege of choosing his own name. In introducing me to an audience in Essex Hall, London,
during my visit to Europe, in the summer of 1899, Honorable Joseph H. Choate, the American Ambassador, said that I was one of the few Americans that had had the opportunity of choosing his own name, and in exercising the rare privilege I had very naturally chosen the best name there was in the list.
My step-father seemed to be over careful that I should continue my work in the salt furnace until nine o'clock each day. This practice made me late at school, and often caused me to miss my lessons. To overcome this I resorted to a practice of which I am not now very proud, and it is one of the few things I did as a child of which I am now ashamed. There was a large clock in the salt furnace that kept the time for hundreds of workmen connected with the salt furnace and coal mine. But, as I found myself continually late at school, and after missing some of my lessons, I yielded to the temptation to move forward the hands on the dial of the clock so as to give enough time to permit me to get to school in time. This went on for several days, until the manager found the time so unreliable that the clock was locked up in a case.
It was in Malden that I first found out what a Sunday school meant. I remember that I was playing marbles one Sunday morning in the road with a number of other boys, and an old colored
man passed by on his way to Sunday school. He spoke a little harshly to us about playing marbles on Sunday, and asked why we did not go to Sunday school. He explained in a few broken though plain words what a Sunday school meant and what benefit we would get from it by going. His words impressed me so that I put away my marbles and followed him to Sunday school, and thereafter was in regular attendance. I remember that, some years afterwards, I became one of the teachers in this Sunday school and finally became its superintendent.
No matter how dark the days or how discouraging the circumstances, there was never a time in my youth when the firm resolution to secure an education, at any cost, did not constantly remain with me. Next came the unpleasant coal mine experience.
My step-father was not able, however, to permit me to continue in school long, even for a half day at the time. I was soon taken out of school and put to work in the coal mine. As a child I recall now the fright which, going a long distance under the mountain into a dark and damp coal mine, gave me. It seemed to me that the distance from the opening of the mine to the place where I had to work was at least a mile and a half. Although I had to leave school I did not give up my search for knowledge. I took my book into the coal mine, and during the spare minutes I
tried to read by the light of the little lamp which hung on my cap. Not long after I began to work in the mines my mother hired some one to teach me at night, but often, after walking a considerable distance for a night's lesson, I found that my teacher knew but little more than I did. This, however, was not the case with Mr. William Davis, my first teacher.
After working in the coal mine for some time, my mother secured a position for me as house boy in the family of General Lewis Ruffner. I went to live with this family with a good many fears and doubts. General Ruffner's wife, Mrs. Viola Ruffner, had the reputation of being very strict and hard to please, and most of the boys who had been employed by her had remained only a short time with her. After remaining with Mrs. Ruffner a while, I grew weary of her exact manner of having things done, and, without giving her any notice, I ran away and hired myself to a steamboat captain who was plying a boat between Malden and Cincinnati. Mrs. Ruffner was a New England woman, with all the New England ideas about order, cleanliness and truth. The boat captain hired me as a waiter, but before the boat had proceeded many miles towards Cincinnati he found that I knew too little about waiting on the table to be of any service, so he discharged me before I had been on his boat for many hours.
In some way, however, I persuaded him to take me to Cincinnati and return me to Malden. As soon as I returned home, I returned to Mrs. Ruffner, acknowledged my sins, and secured my old position again. After I had lived with Mrs. Ruffner for a while she permitted me to attend school for a few hours in the afternoons during three months, on the condition that I should work faithfully during the forenoon. She paid me, or rather my step-father, six dollars per month and board for my work. When I could not get the opportunity to attend school in the afternoon I resorted to my old habit of having some one teach me at night, although I had to walk a good distance after my work was done in order to do this.
While living with Mrs. Ruffner I got some very valuable experience in another direction, that of marketing and selling vegetables. Mrs. Ruffner was very fond of raising grapes and vegetables, and, although I was quite a boy, she entrusted me with the responsibility of selling a large portion of these products. I became very fond of this work. I remember that I used to go to the houses of the miners and prevail upon them to buy these things. I think at first Mrs. Ruffner doubted whether or not I would be honest in these transactions, but as time went on and she found the cash from these sales constantly increasing
her confidence grew in me, and before I left her service she willingly trusted me with anything in her possession. I always made it a special point to return to her at the end of each campaign as a salesman every cent that I had received and to let her see how many vegetables or how much fruit was brought back unsold.
At one time I remember that, when I passed by an acquaintance of mine when I had a large basket of peaches for sale, he took the liberty of walking up to me and taking one of the ripest and most tempting peaches. Although he was a man and I was but a boy, I gave him to under- stand in the most forceful manner that I would not permit it. He seemed greatly surprised that I would not let him take one peach. He tried to explain to me that no one would miss it and that I would be none the worse off for his taking it. When he could not bring me to his way of thinking he tried to frighten me by force into yielding, but I had my way, and I am sure that this man respected me all the more for being honest with other people's property. I told him that if the peaches were mine I would gladly let him have one; but under no circumstances could I consent to let him take without a protest that which was entrusted to me by others. It happened very often that as I would pass through the streets with a large basket of grapes or other fruit,
many of the larger boys tried by begging and then by force to dispossess me of a portion of what had been given me to sell, but I think there was no instance when I yielded. From my earliest childhood I have always had it implanted in me that it never pays to be dishonest, and that reward, at some time, in some manner, for the performance of conscientious duty, will always come, and in this I have never been disappointed.
I wish to add here 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 buy himself, by paying so much per year for his body; and while he was paying for himself, he was to be permitted to labor 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
"THIS FIRED MY
AMBITION TO LEARN TO READ, AS NOTHING HAD
DONE BEFORE."
READING OF THE
EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. THE SMALL LAD WITH
SLOUCH HAT AND STICK
IN RIGHT HAND, IS BOOKER.--Text page 19.
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 he did not have to pay the debt, but he had given his word to his master, and his word he had never broken. He felt that he could not enjoy his freedom till he had fulfilled his promise.
In all, I must have spent about four years in the employ of Mrs. Ruffner; and I here repeat what I have said more than once, that aside from the training I got at the Hampton Institute under General Armstrong, Mrs. Ruffner gave me the most valuable part of my education. Her habit of requiring everything about her to be clean, neat and orderly, gave me an education in these respects that has been most valuable to me in the work that I have since tried to accomplish. At first I thought that her idea of strict honesty and punctuality in everything meant unkindness, but I soon learned to understand her and she to understand me, and she has from the first time that I knew her until this day proven one of the best friends I ever possessed.
One day, while I was at work in the coal mine, I heard some men talking about a school in Virginia, where they said that black boys and girls were permitted to enter, and where poor students were given an opportunity of working for their
board, if they had not money with which to pay for it. As soon as I heard of this institution, I made up my mind to go there. After I had lived with Mrs. Ruffner about four years I decided to go to the Hampton Institute, in Virginia, the school of which I had heard. I had no definite idea about where the Hampton Institute was, or how long the journey was. Some time before starting for Hampton, I remember, I joined the little Baptist church, in Malden, of which I am still a member.
Of my ancestry I know almost nothing. While in slave quarters, and even later, I heard whispered conversations among the colored 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 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 only know that he was a white man, but 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.
BOOKER
T. WASHINGTON REHEARSING HIS GRADUATING ORATION AT
HAMPTON. HIS
FIRST SPEECH.
LITTLE BOOKER STARTING FOR HAMPTON INSTITUTE.
After my mother and brother John had secured me a few extra garments, with what I could provide for myself, I started for Hampton, about the first of October, 1872. How long I was on this journey I have at this time no very definite idea. Part of the way I went by railroad, part in a stage, and part on foot. I remember that when I got as far as Richmond, Virginia, I was completely out of money, and knew not a single person in the city. Besides, I had never been in a city before. I think it was about nine o'clock at night that I reached Richmond. I was hungry, tired and dirty, and had no where to go. I wandered about the streets until about midnight, when I felt completely exhausted.
By chance I came to a street that had a plank sidewalk, and I crept under this sidewalk and spent the night. The next morning I felt very much rested, but was still quite hungry, as it had been some time since I had a good meal. When I awoke, I noticed some ships not far from where I had spent the night. I went to one of these vessels and asked the captain to permit me to
work for him, so that I could earn some money to get some food. The captain very kindly gave me work, which was that of helping to unload pig iron from the vessel. In my rather weak and hungry condition I found this hard work, but I stuck to it, and was given enough money to buy a little food. My work seemed to have pleased the master of the vessel so much that he furnished me with work for several days, but I continued to sleep under the sidewalk each night, for I was anxious to save enough money to pay my passage to Hampton.
After working on this vessel for some days, I started again for Hampton, and arrived there in a day or two, with a surplus of fifty cents in my pocket. I did not let any one know how forlorn my condition was. I feared that if I did, I would be rejected as one that was altogether too unpromising. The first person I saw after reaching the Hampton Institute was Miss Mary F. Mackie, the Lady Principal. After she had asked me many searching questions, with a good deal of doubt and hesitation in her manner, I was assigned to a room. She remarked at the same time that it would be decided later whether I could be admitted as a student. I shall not soon forget the impression that the sight of a good, clean, comfortable room and bed made upon me, for I had not slept in a bed since
I left my home in West Virginia. Within a few hours I presented myself again before Miss Mackie to hear my fate, but she still seemed to be undecided. Instead of telling me whether or not I could remain, I remember, she showed me a large recitation room and told me to sweep it. I felt at once that the sweeping of that room would decide my case. I knew I could sweep, for Mrs. Ruffner had taught me that art well. I think that I must have swept that room over as many as three times, and dusted it the same number of times. After awhile Miss Mackie came into the room and rubbed her handkerchief over the tables and benches to see if I had left any dust, but not a particle could she find. She remarked with a smile, "I guess we will try you as a student." At that moment I think I was the happiest individual that ever entered the Hampton Institute.
After I had been at the Hampton Institute a day or two I saw General Armstrong, the Principal, and he made the impression upon me of being the most perfect specimen of man, physically, mentally and spiritually, that I had ever seen; and I have never had occasion to change my first impression. In fact, as the years went by and as I came to know him better, the feeling grew. I have never seen a man in whom I had such confidence. It never occurred to me that it was possible
for him to fail in anything that he undertook to accomplish. I have sometimes thought that the best part of my education at Hampton was obtained by being permitted to look upon General Armstrong day by day. He was a man who could not endure for a minute hypocrisy or want of truth in any one. This moral lesson he impressed upon every one who came in contact with him.
After I had succeeded in passing my "sweeping examination," I was assigned by Miss Mackie to the position of assistant janitor. This position, with the exception of working on the farm for awhile, I held during the time I was a student at Hampton. I took care of four or five class rooms; that is, I swept and dusted them and built the fires when needed. A great portion of the time I had to rise at four o'clock in the morning in order to do my work and find time to prepare my lessons.
Everything was very crude at Hampton when I first went there. There were about two hundred students. There was but one substantial building, together with some old government barracks. There were no table cloths on the meal tables, and that which was called tea or coffee was served to us in yellow bowls. Corn bread was our chief food. Once a week we got a taste of white bread.
While taking the regular literary and industrial courses at Hampton, next to my regular studies I was most fond of the debating societies, of which there were two or three. The first subject that I debated in public was whether or not the execution of Maj. Andre was justifiable. After I had been at Hampton a few months I helped to organize the "After Supper Club." I noticed that the students usually had about twenty minutes after tea when no special duty called them; so about twenty-five of us agreed to come together each evening and spend those twenty minutes in the discussion of some important subject. These meetings were a constant source of delight, and were most valuable in preparing us for public speaking.
While at Hampton my best friends did not know how badly off I was for clothing during a large part of the time, but I did not fret about that. I always had the feeling that if I could get knowledge in my head, the matter of clothing would take care of itself afterwards. At one time I was reduced to a single ragged pair of cheap socks. These socks I had to wash over night and put them on the next morning.
After I had remained at Hampton for two years I went back to West Virginia to spend my four months of vacation. Soon after my return to Malden my mother, who was never strong,
died. I do not remember how old I was at this time, but I do remember that it was during my vacation from Hampton. I had been without work for some time, and had been off several miles looking for work. On returning home at night I was very tired, and stopped in the boiler-room of one of the engines used to pump salt water into the salt furnace near my home. I was so tired that I soon fell asleep. About two or three o'clock in the morning some one, my brother John, I think, found me and told me that our mother was dead. It has always been a source of indescribable pain to me that I was not present when she passed away, but the lessons of truth, honor and thrift which she implanted in me while she lived have remained with me, and I consider them among my most precious possessions. She seemed never to tire of planning ways for me and the other children to get an education and to make true men and women of us, although she herself was without education. This was the severest trial I had ever experienced, because she always sympathized with me deeply in every effort that I made to get on in the world. My sister Amanda was too young to know how to take care of the house, and my step-father was too poor to hire anyone. Sometimes we had food cooked for our meals and sometimes we did not. During the whole of the summer, after the death
of my mother, I do not think there was a time when the whole family sat down to a meal together. By working for Mrs. Ruffner and others, and by the aid of my brother John, I obtained money enough to return to Hampton in the fall, and graduated in the regular course in the summer of 1875.
Aside from Gen. Armstrong, Gen. Marshall and Miss Mackie, the persons who made the deepest impression upon me at Hampton were Miss Nathalie Lord and Miss Elizabeth Brewer, two teachers from New England. I am especially indebted to these two for being helped in my spiritual life and led to love and understand the Bible. Largely by reason of their teaching, I find that a day rarely, if ever, passes when I am at home, that I do not read the Bible. Miss Lord was the teacher of reading, and she kindly consented to give me many extra lessons in elocution. These lessons I have since found most valuable to me.
Life at Hampton was a constant revelation to me, it 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 now to me.
I sometimes feel that the most valuable lesson
I learned at the Hampton Institute was the use 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 pro- vision for bathing should be a part of every house.
After finishing the course at Hampton, I went to Saratoga Springs, in New York, and was a waiter during the summer at the United States Hotel, the same hotel at which I have several times since been a guest upon the invitation of friends.
In the fall of 1875 I returned to Malden and was elected as the teacher in the school at Malden, the first school that I ever attended. I taught this school for three years. The thing that I recall most pleasantly in connection with my teaching was the fact that I induced several of my pupils to go to Hampton and that most of them have become strong and useful men. One of them, Dr. Samuel E. Courtney, is now a successful physician in Boston and has been a member of the Boston Board of Education. While teaching I insisted that each pupil should come to school clean, should have his or her hands and face washed and hair combed, and should keep the buttons on his or her clothing.
I not only taught school in the day, but for a great portion of the time taught night school. In addition to this I had two Sunday schools, one at a place called Snow Hill, about two miles from Malden, in the morning, and another in Malden in the afternoon. The average attendance in my day school, was, I think, between eighty and
ninety. As I had no assistant teacher it was a very difficult task to keep all the pupils interested and to see that they made progress in their studies. I had few unpleasant experiences, however, in connection with my teaching. Most of the parents, notwithstanding the fact that they and many of the children knew me as a boy, seemed to have the greatest confidence in me and respect for me, and did everything in their power to make the work pleasant and agreeable.
One thing that gave me a great deal of satisfaction and pleasure in teaching this school was the conducting of a debating society which met weekly and was largely attended both by the young and older people. It was in this debating society and the societies of a similar character at Hampton that I began to cultivate whatever talent I may have for public speaking. While in Malden, our debating society would very often arrange for debates with other similar organizations in Charleston and elsewhere.
Soon after I began teaching, I resolved to induce my brother John to attend the Hampton Institute. He had been good enough to work for the family while I was being educated, and besides had helped me in all the ways he could, by working in the coal mines while I had been away. Within a few months he started for Hampton and by his own efforts and my aid he went
through the institution. After both of us had gotten through Hampton we sent our adopted brother James there, and had the satisfaction of having him educated under Gen. Armstrong.
In 1878 I went to Wayland Seminary, in Washington, and spent a year in study there. Rev. G. M. P. King, D. D., was President of the Wayland Seminary while I was a student there. Notwithstanding I was there but a short time, the high Christian character of Dr. King made a lasting impression upon me. The deep religious spirit which pervaded the atmosphere at Wayland made an impression upon me which I trust will always remain.
Soon after my year at Wayland was completed, I was invited by a committee of gentlemen in Charleston, West Virginia, to stump the state of West Virginia in the interest of having the capital of the state moved from Wheeling, West Virginia, to Charleston. For some time there had been quite an agitation in the state on the question of the permanent location of the capital. A law was passed by the legislature providing that three cities might be voted for; these were, I think, Charleston, Parkersburg and Martinsburg. It was a three-cornered contest and great energy was shown by each city. After about three months of campaigning the voters declared in favor of Charleston as the permanent capital, by
a large majority. I went into a large number of the counties of West Virginia, and had the satisfaction of feeling that my efforts counted for something in winning success for Charleston, which is only five miles from my old home, Malden.
The speaking in connection with the removal of the capital rather fired the slumbering ambition which I had had for some time to become a lawyer, and after this campaign was over I began in earnest to study law, in fact read Blackstone and several elementary law books preparatory to the profession of the law. A good deal of my reading of the law was done under the kind direction of the Hon. Romes H. Freer, a white man who was then a prosperous lawyer in Charleston and who has since become a member of Congress. But notwithstanding my ambition to become a lawyer, I always had an unexplainable feeling that I was to do something else, and that I never would have the opportunity to practice law. As I analyze at the present time the feeling that seemed to possess me then, I was impressed with the idea that to confine myself to the practice of law would be going contrary to my teaching at Hampton, and would limit me to a much smaller sphere of usefulness than was open to me if I followed the work of educating my people after the manner in which I had been
WARREN
LOGAN, Treasurer.
TEACHERS
AT TUSKEGEE INSTITUTE.
EMMETT
J. SCOTT, Mr. Washington's
Private Secretary.
A BRILLIANT TRIO OF COLORED AMERICANS. ENTHUSIASTIC
SUPPORTERS OF MR. WASHINGTON.
taught at Hampton. The course of events, however, very soon placed me where I found an opportunity to begin my life's work.
My work in connection with the removal of the capital had not been completed long when I received an invitation from Gen. Armstrong, much to my surprise, to return to Hampton and deliver the graduates' address at the next commencement. I chose as the subject of this address, "The Force that Wins." All who heard the address seemed pleased with what I said. After the address I was further surprised by being asked by Gen. Armstrong to return to the Hampton Institute and take a position, partly as a teacher and partly as a post-graduate student. This I gladly consented to do. Gen. Armstrong had decided to start a night class at Hampton for students who wanted to work all day and study for two hours at night. He asked me to organize and teach this class. At first there were only about a half dozen students, but the number soon grew to about thirty. The night class at Hampton has since grown to the point where it now numbers six or seven hundred. It seems to me that the teaching of this class was almost the most satisfactory work I ever did. The students who composed the class worked during the day for ten hours in the saw mill, on the farm, or in the laundry. They were a most earnest set. I soon
gave them the name of the "Plucky Class." Several of the members of this "Plucky Class" now fill prominent and useful positions. While I was teaching I was given lessons in advanced subjects, among those who assisted me in that way being Dr. H. B. Frissell, who was then chaplain, but who is now the honored and successful successor of Gen. Armstrong.
About the time the night class was organized at Hampton, Indians for the first time were permitted to enter the institution. The second year that I worked at Hampton, in connection with other duties I was placed in charge of the Indian boys, who at that time numbered about seventy-five, I think. I lived in their cottage with them and looked after all their wants. I grew to like the Indians very much, and placed great faith in them. My daily experience with them convinced me that the main thing that any oppressed people needed was a chance of the right kind, and they would cease to be savages.
I have often wondered if there is a white institution in this country whose students would have welcomed the incoming of more than a hundred companions of another race in the cordial way that the black students at Hampton welcomed the red ones. How often have I wanted to say to white students that they lift themselves up in proportion as they help to lift others, and that
the more unfortunate the race and the lower in the scale of civilization, the more does one raise one's self by giving the assistance.
This reminds me of a conversation which I once had with the Hon. Frederick Douglass. At one time Mr. Douglass was traveling in the state of Pennsylvania, and was forced, on account of his color, to ride in the baggage-car, in spite of the fact that he had paid the same fare as the other passengers. When some of the white passengers went to the baggage. car to console Mr. Douglass, and one of them said to him, "I am sorry, Mr. Douglass, that you have been degraded in this manner," Mr. Douglass straightened himself up on the box upon which he was sitting, and replied: "They cannot degrade Frederick Douglass. The soul that is within me no man can degrade. I am not the one that is being degraded on account of this treatment, but those who are inflicting it upon me."
My experience has been, that the time to test a true gentleman is to observe him when he is in contact with individuals of a race that is less fortunate than his own. This is illustrated in no better way than by observing the conduct of the old-school type of Southern gentleman when he is in contact with his former slaves or their descendants.
An example of what I mean is shown in a story told of George Washington, who, meeting a colored man in the road once, who politely lifted his hat, lifted his own in return. Some of his white friends who saw the incident, criticised Washington for his action. In reply to their criticism, George Washington said: "Do you suppose that I am going to permit a poor, ignorant colored man to be more polite than I am?"
At the end of my second year at Hampton as a teacher, in 1881, there came a call from the little town of Tuskegee, Alabama, to Gen. Armstrong for some one to organize and become the Principal of a Normal School, which the people wanted to start in that town. The letter to Gen. Armstrong was written on behalf of the colored people of the town of Tuskegee by Mr. Geo. W. Campbell, one of the foremost white citizens of Tuskegee. Mr. Campbell is still the president of the Board of Trustees of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, and has from the first been one of its warmest and most steadfast friends. When Mr. Campbell wrote to Gen. Armstrong, he had in mind the securing of a white man to take the principalship of the school. Gen. Armstrong replied that he knew of no suitable white man for the position, but that he could recommend a colored man. Mr. Campbell wrote in reply that a competent colored man would be
acceptable. Gen. Armstrong asked me to give up my work at Hampton and go to Tuskegee in answer to this call. I decided to undertake the work, and after spending a few days at my old home in Malden, West Virginia, I proceeded to the town of Tuskegee, Alabama.
I wish to add here that, in later years, 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 reach the conclusion that often the Negro boy's birth and connection with an unpopular race are an advantage, so far as real life is concerned. With few exceptions, the Negro youth must work harder and 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 to be able to claim membership with the most favored of any other race. I have always been made sad when I have heard members of my race claiming rights and 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.
Before starting for Tuskegee I found it almost impossible to find the town on any map, and had difficulty in learning its exact location. I reached Tuskegee about the middle of June, 1881 I found it to be a town of some 2,000 inhabitants, about half of whom were Negroes, and located in what is commonly called the "Black Belt," that is, the section of the South where the Negro race largely outnumbers the white population. The county in which Tuskegee is located is named Macon. Of Tuskegee and Macon County I prefer to quote the words of Maj. W. W. Screws, the editor of the "Montgomery (Alabama) Daily Advertiser," who visited Tuskegee in 1898, seventeen years after the Tuskegee Institute was founded. Maj. Screws says:
"Just at this time there is probably no place in the United States, of similar size, so well known to the people of the country, as this lovely little city. It has always possessed merits which brought it conspicuously before Alabamians, for in every locality in this and many Southern
States are noble men and women who received their educational training here.
"Thomas S. Woodward was one of the earliest white settlers in Macon County, and was one of the commissioners appointed to lay off the site for the court house. He built the first house in the new town, which they called Tuskegee, a corruption of the old Indian name, Tuskigi, which is said by Dr. Gatschet to be a contraction of Taskialgi (warriors). The old Indian town stood in the fork of the Coosa and was the home, part of the time, of the famous half-breed statesman, Alexander McGillivray. The name passed in its present form to the county seat of the new county.
"Tuskegee was settled by men who were well to do in a material point of view. They owned rich lands on the creeks and streams and in the prairie section of the county. This point is on a high, dry ridge, and from time immemorial has been noted for its healthfulness. Here came those who wished to build homes for their families, to have congenial company and to give their children educational advantages. They did not desire the projectors of the Montgomery and West Point, Railroad to put the town on its route, because of the interruption it was feared would be occasioned to the schools. From the very beginning of its existence, education has
been the main feature of Tuskegee, and through its schools and colleges a population gathered here which has never been excelled in point of refinement, politeness and all the gentle amenities which tend to make life comfortable.
"The town of Tuskegee was first settled about 1830. James Dent built the first house. The town was first laid out in 1833. Mr. G. W. Campbell came to the county with his father from Montgomery in 1835, and at that time perhaps 150 people were in and about what now comprises Tuskegee's territorial limits. There was no court house building, and court sessions were held in a small log house with a dirt floor. When court was not in session the building was used as a school house. The Creek Indians were in great numbers in the neighborhood, but they were friendly and peaceful, and in 1836 commenced to move to their far Western home, going overland to Montgomery, where they took steamer for New Orleans. Tuskegee is one of the model towns in the way of good order.
"Among the white settlers here are Dr. W. J. Gautier, and Messrs. G. W. Campbell, J. W. Bilbro, J. O. A. Adams and W. H. Wright. They have a perfect wealth of interesting reminiscence connected with the early days of all East Alabama. Although they have passed the three score years, they are hale, healthy men, engaged in
business, and set a splendid example of energy and active life to the younger generation. The firm of Campbell & Wright has been in existence, possibly, longer than any other in Alabama.
"The Montgomery and West Point Railroad is about five miles distant from Tuskegee, the nearest station being Chehaw: From there to Tuskegee, until about twenty years ago, the usual mode of conveyance for passengers and baggage was stage coach and omnibus; while all goods were transported by wagon. It was a tiresome, troublesome and expensive method. This difficulty has been overcome through the Tuskegee Railroad which now connects the two points.
"The population of Macon County before 1860, was largely heavy landed proprietors. They suffered immensely by the results of the war from disorganized labor, and reverses stripped them of much of their property. The county is almost exclusively agricultural, and the average yield year by year, of corn, cotton, peas, potatoes and other things grown on well regulated farms, is fairly good."
When I reached Tuskegee, I found that Mr. Lewis Adams, a colored man of great intelligence and thrift, who was born a slave near Tuskegee, had first started the movement to have some kind of Normal School in Tuskegee for the education of colored youth. At the time he conceived this
idea Hon. W. F. Foster and Hon. A. L. Brooks, both white Democrats, were members of the Alabama Legislature, and Mr. Adams so interested them in the movement that they promised to use their influence in the Legislature to secure an annual appropriation of $2,000 toward the expenses of a Normal School, provided one could be properly organized and started. Mr. Foster and Mr. Brooks were successful in their efforts to secure the appropriation, which was limited in its use to helping to pay teachers. A Board of three Commissioners was appointed to control the expenditure of this $2,000. When the school was first started this board consisted of Mr. Geo. W. Campbell, Mr. M. B. Swanson and Mr. Lewis Adams. After the death of Mr. Swanson, Mr. C. W. Hare was elected in his stead.
When I reached Tuskegee, the only thing that had been done toward the starting of a school was the securing of the $2,000. There was no land, building, or apparatus. I opened the school, however, on the 4th of July, 1881, in an old church and a little shanty that was almost ready to fall down from decay. On the first day there was an attendance of thirty students, mainly those who had been engaged in teaching in the Public schools of that vicinity. But these little buildings, inadequate as they were, were most
gladly furnished by the colored people, who from the first day that I went to Tuskegee to the present time have done everything within their power to further the interests of the school.
One curious thing that happened in connection with the students was, as additional pupils began to come in, that some of them had been attending schools taught by some of those who came to the Tuskegee school, and, in several cases, it happened that former pupils entered higher classes than their former teachers.
After the school had been in session in the old church and little shanty for several months, I began to see the necessity of having a permanent location for the institution, where we could have the students not only in their class rooms, but get hold of them in their home life, and teach them how to take care of their bodies in the matter of bathing, care of the teeth, and in general cleanliness. We also felt that we must not only teach the students how to prepare their food, but how to serve and eat it properly. So long as we had the students only a few hours in the class room during the day, we could give attention to none of these important matters, which our students had not had an opportunity of learning before leaving their homes. Few of the students who came during the first year were able to remain during the nine months' session, for lack of money, so we felt the necessity of having industries where the students could pay a part of their board in cash. It was rather noticeable that, notwithstanding the poverty of most of the students who came to us in the earlier months of the institution,
most of them had the idea of getting an education in order that they might find some method of living without manual labor; that is, they had the feeling that to work with the hands was not conducive to the development of the highest type of lady or gentleman. This feeling we wanted to change as fast as possible, by teaching students the dignity, beauty and civilizing power of intelligent labor.
After a few months had passed, I wrote Gen. J. F. B. Marshall, at that time treasurer of the Hampton Institute, and put our condition before him, telling him that there was an abandoned farm about a mile from the town of Tuskegee in the market which I could secure at a very cheap price for our institution. As I had absolutely no money with which to make the first payment on the farm, I summoned the courage to ask Gen. Marshall to lend me $500 with which to make the first payment. To my surprise a letter came back in a few days enclosing a check for $500. A contract was made for the purchase of the farm, which at that time consisted of 100 acres. Subsequent purchases and gifts of adjacent lands have increased the number of acres at this place to 700, and this is the present site of the Tuskegee Institute. This has again been enlarged from time to time by purchases and gifts of land not adjacent until at present
the school owns farm lands to the number of about 2,500 acres.
After the school had been in session three months, Miss Olivia A. Davidson, a graduate of the Hampton Institute and later a graduate of the Framingham, Mass., Normal School, was employed as an assistant teacher.
Miss Davidson was teaching among her people near Memphis, Tennessee, in 1879, when the yellow fever drove her away. She went to Hampton, entered the senior class and graduated the following spring. She did not go to Hampton, however, until her application to return to Memphis to help nurse the yellow fever patients had been refused by the authorities there. Through friends she was able to enter the Normal School at Framingham, Massachusetts, and graduated in the summer of 1881; and, when an assistant at Tuskegee was called for, she accepted the work. Her enthusiasm had won the admiration of her schoolmates, and from them she received much assistance for the school at Tuskegee in after years.
The success of the school, especially during the first half dozen years of its existence, was due more to Miss Davidson than any one else. During the organization of the school and in all matters of discipline she was the one to bring order out of every difficulty. When the last effort had
apparently been exhausted and it seemed that things must stop, she was the one to find a way out. Not only was this true at the school, but when a campaign for money had ended unsuccessfully, she would start for the North, and money was sure to be found.
Our hardest struggle began after we had made the first payment on the farm. We not only had to secure the money within a few months with which to repay Gen. Marshall's loan, but had to get the means with which to meet future payments, and also to erect a building on the farm. Miss Davidson went among the white and colored families in Tuskegee and told them our plans and needs, and there were few of either race who did not contribute either something in cash or something that could be turned into cash at the many festivals and fairs which were held for the purpose of raising money to help the school. In many cases the white ladies in Tuskegee contributed chickens or cakes that were sold for the benefit of our new enterprise. I do not believe there was a single Negro family or scarcely an individual in Tuskegee or its vicinity that did not contribute something in money or in kind to the school. These contributions were most gladly made, and often at a great sacrifice.
Perhaps I might as well say right here that one of the principal things which made it easy to start
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such a school as now exists near the town of Tuskegee was the fact that Tuskegee is inhabited by some of the most cultured and liberal white people to be found in any portion of the South. I have been into a good many Southern towns, but I think I have never seen one where the general average of culture and intelligence is so high as that of the people of Tuskegee. We have in this town and the surrounding country a good example of the friendly relations that exist between the two races when both races are enlightened and educated. Not only are the white people above the average, but the same is true of the general intelligence and acquirements of the colored people.
The leading colored citizen in Tuskegee is Mr. Lewis Adams, to whom should largely be given the honor for securing the location of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute in the town. Mr. Adams is not only an intelligent and successful business man, but is one who combines with his business enterprise rare common sense and discretion. In the most trying periods of the growth of the Tuskegee Institute I have always found Mr. Adams a man on whom I could rely for the wisest advice. He enjoys the highest respect and confidence of the citizens of both races, and it is largely through his power and influence that the two races live together in harmony and peace in the town.
After we had raised all the money we could in Tuskegee for the purpose of paying for the farm and putting up the new building, Miss Davidson went to Boston, where she had many friends and acquaintances, and after some months of hard work she secured enough money to complete the payment on the farm and return Gen. Marshall's loan. In addition she secured means to complete the payment on our first building, Porter Hall. This building was named after Mr. H. A. Porter, of Brooklyn, N. Y., who was instrumental in assisting us to secure the largest gifts for its erection.
All the while the farm was being paid for we were holding school daily in the old church and shanty. The latter at least was well ventilated. There was one thickness of boards above and around us, and this was full of large cracks. Part of the windows had no sashes and were closed with rough wooden shutters that opened upward by leather hinges. Other windows had sashes, but with little glass in them. Through all these openings the hot sun or cold wind and rain came pouring in upon us. Many a time a storm would leave scarcely a dry spot in either of the two rooms into which the shanty was divided to make room for separate classes. These rooms were small, but into them large classes of thirty or forty had to be crowded for recitations. More
than once, I remember, when Miss Davidson and I were hearing recitations, and the rain would begin pouring down, one of the larger pupils would very kindly cease his lessons and come and hold an umbrella over us so that we could continue our work. I also remember that at our boarding place, on several occasions when it rained while we were eating our meals, our good landlady would kindly get an umbrella and hold it over us while we were eating.
During the summer of 1882, at the end of our first year's work, I was married to Miss Fannie N. Smith, of Malden, West Virginia, and we began housekeeping in Tuskegee early in the fall. This made a home for our teachers, who had now been increased to four in number. My wife was also a graduate of the Hampton Institute. After earnest and constant work in the interest of the school, together with her housekeeping duties, she passed away in May, 1884. One child, Portia M. Washington, was born during our marriage. From the first my wife most earnestly devoted her thought and time to the work of the school, and was completely one with me in every interest and ambition. She died, however, before she had an opportunity of seeing what the school was destined to be.
The following account of her death is taken
from the Alumni Journal, published at the time at Hampton:
"The numerous friends of Mr. B. T. Washington will be pained to learn of the death of his beloved wife, Mrs. Fannie (Smith) Washington, class of '82, which occurred at Tuskegee, Alabama, Sunday, May 4th.
"Her death is indeed a serious bereavement to Mr. Washington, whose acquaintance and regard for the deceased had begun in their childhood. Their happy union had done much to lighten the arduous duties devolving upon him in the management of his school. To his friends he had several times expressed the great comfort his family life was to him.
"We know that all our readers will join us in extending to him the warmest sympathy in this sad hour.
"A bright little girl, not a year old, is left to sustain with her father a loss which she can never know."
Soon after securing possession of the farm we set about putting it into a condition so that a crop of some kind might be secured from it during the next year. At the close of school hours each afternoon, I would call for volunteers to take their axes and go into the woods to assist in clearing up the grounds. The students were most anxious to give their service in this way, and very soon a large acreage was put into condition for cultivation. We had no horse or mule with which to begin the cultivation of the farm. Mr. George W. Campbell, however, the president of the Board of Trustees, very kindly gave us a horse. This was the first animal that the school ever possessed. On the farm there was an old building that had formerly been used as a stable, another that had been used as a chicken coop, and still a third that had been used as a kitchen during ante-bellum days. All of these three buildings or shanties were duly repaired and made to do service as class-rooms and dormitories.
We had our first services in Porter Hall on Thanksgiving Day, 1882. Rev. R. C. Bedford, who was then pastor of the Congregational Church in Montgomery, and who has since been one of our trustees and warmest friends, preached the Thanksgiving sermon. This was the first Thanksgiving service, I think, that was ever held in the town of Tuskegee, and a joyous one it was to the people.
By the middle of the second year's work the existence of the school had begun to be advertised pretty thoroughly through the state of Alabama and even in some of the adjoining states. This brought to us an increasing number of students, and the problem as to what to do with them was becoming a serious one. We put the girls who did not live in town on the third floor of Porter Hall to sleep. The boys we scattered around in whatever places we were able to secure. In order to provide a dining room, kitchen and laundry, to be used by the boarding department, our young men volunteered to dig out the basement under Porter Hall, which was soon bricked up and made to answer its purpose very well. Old students, however, who to-day return to Tuskegee and see the large new dining room, kitchen, and laundry run by steam, are very much interested in noting the change and contrast.
Sometimes during the winter of the second year of the school, we were compelled to put large numbers of young men in shanties or huts to sleep, where there was almost no protection from rain and cold weather. Often during the very cold nights I have gone into the rooms of these students at midnight to see how they were getting along, and have found them sitting up by the fire, with blankets wrapped about them, as the only method of keeping warm. One morning, when I asked at the opening exercises how many had been frost-bitten during the cold weather, not less than ten hands went up. The teachers were not surprised at this. Still, notwithstanding these inconveniences and hardships, I think I never heard a complaint from the lips of a single student. They always seemed filled with gratitude for the opportunity to go to school under any circumstances.
Very early in the history of the school we made it a rule that no student, however well off he might be, was to be permitted to remain unless he did some work, in addition to taking studies in the academic department. At first quite a number of students and a large number of parents did not like this rule; in fact, during the first three or four years, a large proportion of the students brought either verbal or written messages from their parents that they wanted their
children taught books, but did not want them taught work. Notwithstanding these protests, we still stuck to our rule. As the years went on and as the students and parents began to see and appreciate the value of our industrial teaching, these protests grew less frequent and less strong. It is a sufficient explanation to say in regard to this matter, that it has been ten years since a single objection has been raised by parents or students against anyone's taking part in our industrial work. In fact, there is a positive enthusiasm among parents and students over our industrial work, and we are compelled to refuse admission to hundreds every year who wish to prepare themselves to take up industrial pursuits. If we had the room and the means we could give industrial training to a much larger number of students than are now receiving it. The main burden of the letters which now come from parents is that each wants his daughter or son taught some industry or trade in connection with the academic branches. I also remember, during the early history of this institution, that students coming here who had to pass through the larger cities, or pass in the vicinity of other institutions, had the finger of scorn pointed at them because they were going to a school where it was understood that one had to labor. At the present time, however, this feeling is so completely changed that
there is almost no portion of the South where there is any objection brought against industrial education of the Negro on the part of the colored people themselves. On the other hand, the feeling in favor of it is strong and most enthusiastic.
Almost from the first I determined to have the students do practically all the work of putting up the buildings and carrying on the various departments of the institution. Many of our best friends, however, doubted the practicability of this, but I insisted that it could be done. I held that while the students at first might make very poor bricks and do poor brick-masonry, the lesson of self-help would be more valuable to them in the long run than if they were put into a building which had been wholly the creation of the generosity of some one else. By the end of the third year the number of students had increased from 30, with which we began, to 169; most of them, however, coming from nearby counties and other sections of Alabama.
In February, 1883, the State Legislature of Alabama increased the state appropriation for the school from two to three thousand dollars annually, on recommendation of the State Superintendent of Public Instruction, Hon. H. Clay Armstrong. The Committee on Education reported the bill unanimously to the House, and the Governor recommended its passage. As some
of the members were not acquainted with the character of the school, they raised objection to this increase at a time when, by defalcation of the state treasurer, reported only the day before, the state had lost a quarter of a million dollars. The Speaker of the House, Hon. W. F. Foster, a member from Tuskegee, and an ex-Confederate soldier, left the chair, and in an eloquent and effective speech in praise of the work of the school at Tuskegee, urged the passage of the bill. On conclusion of Col. Foster's speech the bill passed by a large majority vote. Col. Foster not only interested himself in the passage of the first bill which gave support from the state to this institution, but has been one of the warmest and most helpful friends from that time until the present.
In reference to the passage of the bill for an increased appropriation for the school, Rev. R. C. Bedford, at that time residing in Montgomery as pastor of the Congregational Church, wrote to Gen. Armstrong as follows:
"Gen. S. C. Armstrong, Dear Sir:--
"A short time ago I made a trip to Tuskegee, Ala., for the purpose of visiting the State Normal School for colored people located there, four of whose five teachers, together with the wife of the Principal, were once pupils of yours at Hampton Institute. I attended the session of the
school for two days and was exceedingly pleased with the enthusiastic spirit of both teachers and pupils. One of the encouraging features of the school is the warm interest it has inspired in many of the leading white citizens of Tuskegee. Mr. G. W. Campbell and Mr. Wm. B. Swanson are among the oldest and most respected citizens of Macon County. They with Mr. Lewis Adams, a prominent colored man, constitute the State Board of Commissioners for the school. Col. Bowen, Mr. Varner, and Col. W. F. Foster, speaker of the present Legislature, all citizens of Tuskegee and familiar with the school, are among its warmest friends. A short time ago, in conversation with Hon. H. Clay Armstrong, our State Superintendent of Education, I learned that he was so much pleased with the work of Mr. Washington and his associates as to recommend to the Committee on Education to report a bill giving $1,000 per year additional to the school. I was present during the debate on the bill. So interested was Col. Foster in its passage that he left the speaker's chair, and upon the floor of the House, in an eloquent and effective speech, urged that it pass. He sat down, and by a vote of 59 to 18, the bill was passed; and it is now a law.
"With this example before us, we need have no fear as to what the colored people can do if,
like Mr. Washington and his associates, they will take hold to win."
In April, 1883, the school enjoyed a pleasant visit from Gen. J. F. B. Marshall, the treasurer of Hampton Institute, and the one who had been generous enough to lend us $500 with which to make the first payment on the farm. Gen. Marshall's visit gave us the greatest hope and encouragement. He wrote, while at the school, to the Southern Workman, a paper published at Hampton Institute, as follows, concerning his visit:
"A few days' rest from office duties being enjoined upon me recently, I determined to pay a visit to the Tuskegee school, in which the faculty and teachers of Hampton Institute naturally feel a special interest.
"The Tuskegee farm contains 140 acres and the boys are at work clearing a field for sugar cane, which grows well here. They also raise cotton, sweet potatoes, peaches, etc. To enable them to train the students properly they must have them board at the school. A building is very much needed for the accommodation of 100 young men. Mr. Washington says that it will cost $8,000, if student labor can be made available in its construction. For this purpose he proposes to build of brick made on the farm, which has excellent clay. The young men are impatient to set to work on their building.
"Tuskegee is one of the very old towns in the state, an attractive place of about 2500 inhabitants, having several colleges and academies of high repute for the white youth of both sexes. I was glad to find a very strong temperance sentiment here. There were only two bars in town and they pay a license of about $900 a year each. No better location could have been chosen.
"The leading white citizens of the place appreciate the importance of Mr. Washington's work, and speak of him in high terms. He has evidently won the esteem and confidence of all. Mr. Foster, the present speaker of the House, in the State Legislature, lives here, and rendered valuable aid in getting the increased appropriation of the state for Mr. Washington, of whom he spoke to me in high praise.
"I am reminded by everything I see here of our own beginning and methods at Hampton. I found on my arrival at the school, which is about a mile from the village center, a handsome frame building of two stories with a mansard roof. Though not yet finished it is occupied as a school building and is very conveniently planned, for the purpose, reminding me of the Academic Hall at Hampton. The primary school on the Normal School grounds bears the same relation to it as a practice school that the Butler does to the Hampton Institute. It has 250 on the roll. They are
stored away in what was the stable, close as crayons in a Waltham box. Let us hope they will all make their mark.
"All six teachers of the Normal and Training Schools are colored; and to their race belongs all credit for the work accomplished here and of the judicious use of the funds which the friends of the school, through the efforts of Mr. Washington and Miss Davidson, have contributed.
"The experiment, thus far so successful, is one of deep interest to all who have the welfare of the race at heart, and should not be suffered to fail for want of means for its completion. It is vital to the success of this school that the students should all be brought under the training and supervision of the teachers by being boarded and lodged on the premises. Our experience at Hampton has shown us the necessity of this. I know of no more worthy object, or one conducive to more important results, than this school enterprise, and I trust the friends of Negro advancement and education will not suffer it to languish or be hampered for funds. They may rest assured that these may be wisely expended and most worthily bestowed.
"My three days' visit to Tuskegee was eminently satisfactory and has inspired me with new hope for the future of the race."
The next event in the history of the school was
the celebration of its second anniversary, combined with the dedication of Porter Hall, cornerstone of which had been laid the year before. The dedication address was delivered by Rev. Geo. L. Chaney, of Atlanta, now of Boston, one of the Trustees of the school; and eloquent speeches were also made by Rev. Morgan Calloway, the associate in Emory College of its president, Dr. Atticus G. Haygood, author of "Our Brother in Black." Rev. Mr. Owens, of Mobile, also made an interesting address.
During the following summer a small frame cottage with four rooms was put up to hold sixteen young men, and three board shanties near the grounds were rented, affording accommodations for about thirty-six additional students. In September a boarding department was opened for both sexes, and as many young men as could be provided for gladly availed themselves of the privilege of working out about half of their board at the school.
In 1883 Mr. Warren Logan, a graduate of the Hampton Institute, who had received special training in book-keeping under Gen. Marshall at Hampton, came to Tuskegee as a teacher. He had not been here long, however, before it was clearly seen that he could serve the school effectively in another capacity, as well as a class room teacher, and he was soon given the position
of Treasurer and book-keeper, in addition to his duties as an instructor. Mr. Logan has now been connected with the school sixteen years, and has been its Treasurer during thirteen years of this time. In addition to the position of treasurer, he fills the position of Acting Principal in the absence of the Principal. All of these various and delicate, as well as responsible, duties he has performed with great ability and satisfaction.
Mr. J. H. Washington, my brother, came to the school from West Virginia in 1885 and took the position of Business Agent. He was after- wards made Superintendent of Industries and has held that position ever since. In the meantime the school has grown, and his duties as well as those of Mr. Logan, have broadened and increased in responsibility. Both he and Mr. Logan, during the absence of the Principal, are in a large measure the mainstay and dependence of the institution for counsel and wise direction.
These two men, Mr. Logan and my brother John, have been from the beginning very important forces in the school management. As Treasurer and Superintendent of Industries respectively their responsibilities are heavy, and how much credit they deserve will never be fully known till the necessity arises some day to fill their places. They, with James N. Calloway, a graduate of Fisk University, who is the manager of
OLIVIA DAVIDSON HALL, TUSKEGEE NORMAL AND INDUSTRIAL INSTITUTE.
CASSEDY HALL, TUSKEGEE INSTITUTE. ERECTED BY STUDENTS.
Marshall Farm, Mr. G. W. Carver, Director of the Agricultural Department, and Mr. M. T. Driver, Business Agent, constitute the Finance Committee of the Institute, a sort of cabinet for the Principal.
In September, 1883, a very pleasant surprise came to the workers in the form of $1,100, secured through Rev. R. C. Bedford from the Trustees of the Slater Fund. I might add right here, that the interest of the Trustees of the Slater Fund, now under the control of Dr. J. L. M. Curry, Special Agent, has continued from that time until this, so that the institution now receives $11,000 from the Slater Fund instead of $1,100 at the beginning. With this impetus, a carpenter shop was built and started, a windmill set up to pump water into the school building, a sewing machine bought for the girls' industrial room, mules and wagons for the farm, and the farm manager's salary was also paid for nine months.
All during the summer, as was true of the previous one, Miss Davidson and myself had been earnestly presenting our cause at the North with so much encouragement that the work on the new building, called Alabama Hall, was vigorously pushed during the fall and winter. In February, 1884, about three years after the school was opened, $5,000 had been secured towards the
erection of Alabama Hall, which eventually cost about $10,000.
In March, 1884, Gen. Armstrong did one of those generous things which he was noted for all through his life. In fact, from the beginning of Tuskegee's life until Gen. Armstrong's death, he seemed to take as much interest in the work of Tuskegee as in the Hampton Institute, and I am glad to say the same generous spirit is constantly shown by the successor of Gen. Armstrong, Dr. Frissell. I received a letter from Gen. Armstrong stating that he had decided to hold a number of public meetings in such cities as Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York and Boston, and wished me to accompany him and speak in the interest of Tuskegee. These meetings were advertised to be in the interest of Hampton and Tuskegee jointly, but in reality they turned out to be meetings in the interest of Tuskegee, so generous was Gen. Armstrong in his words and actions at these meetings. The special object aimed at in these meetings was to secure money with which to complete Alabama Hall.
I quote from an address made at one of these meetings by myself: "Our young men have already made two kilns of bricks, and will make all required for the needed building, Alabama Hall. From the first we have carried out the plan at Tuskegee of asking help for nothing that we
could do for ourselves. Nothing has been bought that the students can produce. The boys have done the painting, made the bricks, the chairs, tables and desks, have built a stable, and are now moving the carpenter shop. The girls do the entire housekeeping, including the washing, ironing and mending of the boys' clothing. Besides, they make garments to sell, and give some attention to flower gardening."
In due time, however, by hard work, the remainder of the money, $10,000 in all, necessary to complete Alabama Hall, was secured, largely in the North, although not a little was gotten from friends in and about Tuskegee, especially through the holding of festivals and other entertainments.
In April, 1884, we received a visit from the Lady Principal of the Hampton Institute, Miss Mary F. Mackie, who was the first one to receive me when I went to Hampton as a student. I will say here that, from the visit of Gen. Marshall up to the present time, we have received constant visits and encouragement from the officers and teachers of the Hampton Institute. Miss Mackie, writing to a friend at Hampton, said:
"The wish constantly on my lips or in my heart, since I reached here last evening, is that you could see this school. I am sure you would feel, as I do, that the dial of time must have
turned back twelve years in its course. In many respects it is more like the Hampton I first knew than the one of today is; I was particularly struck with the plantation melodies which Mr. Washington called for at the close of the evening prayers; there is more of the real wail in their music than I ever heard elsewhere. The teachers here laugh over their exact imitation of the alma mater; even the night school feature has sprouted; to be sure it only numbers two students, but it is on the same plan as ours. Do you know that Mr. -- has lately given them 440 acres of land, making their farm now 580 acres?"
The June number of the Southern Letter, a little paper published by the Institute, contained the following account of commencement, which took place May 29, 1884 : "Many visitors were present, white and colored. The great interest was in the development of the department of industrial training, which now includes the farm, the Slater carpenter shop and blacksmith shop, the printing office, the girls' industrial room, and the brick yard, where the students were making brick for Alabama Hall. The morning exercises, were, as usual, inspection, recitations and review of the current news. The speaker of the afternoon was Prof. R. T. Greener, of Washington, who delivered a very practical and eloquent address.
Reporters were present from Montgomery and Tuskegee."
In the spring of 1884 I was very pleasantly surprised to receive an invitation from the President of the National Educational Association, Hon. Thos. W. Bicknall, of Boston, asking me to deliver an address before that body at its next meeting during the summer. The Association assembled at Madison, Wisconsin, and I think I am safe in saying that there were at least five thousand teachers present, representing every portion of the United States. This was the first opportunity I had had of presenting the work of the school to any large audience, especially of a national character. It was rather late in the evening before my time to speak came. Several speakers had preceded me, and one especially had proven himself to be rather tedious and tiresome by his long and rather unprepared address, but this did not discourage me. I determined to make the best address that I possibly could, although I was beset by fear and trembling. The many kind words, however, which I received after my address, assured me that in some measure my effort had not been a failure. Among other things I said:
"I repeat that any work looking toward the permanent improvement of the Negro in the South must have for one of its aims the fitting of
him to live friendly and peaceably with his white neighbors, both socially and politically. In spite of all talk of exodus, the Negro's home is permanently in the South, for, coming to the bread and meat side of the question, the white man needs the Negro and the Negro needs the white man. His home being permanently in the South, it is our duty to help him prepare himself to live there, an independent, educated citizen. In order that there may be the broadest development of the colored man, and that he may have an unbounded field in which to labor, the two races South must be brought to have faith in each other. The teachings of the Negro, in various ways, for the last twenty years, have tended too much to array him against his white brother, rather than to put the races in co-operation with each other. Thus, Massachussetts, supports the Republican party because the Republican party supports Massachusetts with a protective tariff; but the Negro supports the Republican party simply because Massachusetts does. When the colored man is educated up to the point of seeing that Alabama and Massachusetts are a long way apart, that the conditions of life in them are very different, and that if free trade enables my white brother across the street to buy his plows at a cheaper rate it will enable me to do the same he will act in a different way. More than once I
have noticed that when the whites were in favor of prohibition, the blacks, led even by sober, upright ministers, voted against prohibition, simply because the whites were in favor of it, and for this reason the blacks said that they knew it was a 'democratic trick.' If the whites vote to lay a tax to build a school house, it is a signal for the blacks to oppose the measure, simply because the whites favor it. I venture the assertion that the sooner the colored man, South, learns that one political party is not composed altogether of angels and the other altogether of devils, and that all his enemies do not live in his own town or neighborhood and all his friends in some other distant section of the country, the sooner will his educational advantages be enhanced many fold. But matters are gradually changing in this respect. The black man is beginning to find out that there are those even among the Southern whites who desire his elevation. The Negro's new faith in the white man is being reciprocated in proportion as the Negro is rightly educated. The white brother is beginning to learn by degrees that all Negroes are not liars and chicken thieves.
"Now in regard to what I have said about the relations of the two races, there should be no unmanly cowering or stooping to satisfy unreasonable whims of Southern white men; but it is
charity and wisdom to keep in mind the two hundred years of schooling in prejudice against the Negro which the ex-slaveholders are called on to conquer. A certain class of whites object to the general education of the colored man on the ground that, when he is educated he ceased to do manual labor, and there is no avoiding the fact that much aid is withheld from Negro education in the South by the states on these grounds. Just here the great mission of industrial education, coupled with mental, comes in. It kills two birds with one stone, viz., it secures the co-operation of the whites and does the best possible thing for the black man."
Unknown to me, there were a large number o people present from Alabama, and some from my own home, Tuskegee. These white people frankly told me afterward that they went to the meeting expecting to hear the South roundly abused, but were pleasantly surprised to find that there was no word of adverse criticism in my address. On the other hand, the South was given due credit for all the good things they had done towards aiding the Negro. A white lady, who was a teacher in a college in Tuskegee, wrote back to the local paper that she was pleased, as well as surprised, to note the credit which I gave the white people of Tuskegee for their aid in getting the school started. This
address at Madison, Wisconsin, was the first that I had delivered, that, in any large measure, dealt with the general problem of the races. Those who heard the address seemed to be pleased with what I said, and with the position I took.
After this address I began receiving invitations from a good many portions of the country to deliver addresses on the subject of educating the Negro. At the present time these applications have increased to such an extent, and they come in such large numbers, that if I were to try to answer even one-third of the calls that come to me from all parts of the United States, as well as other countries, to speak, I would scarcely spend a single day at Tuskegee.
From 1884 to 1894 comparatively little was heard of the school in the public press, yet that was a period of constant and solid growth. In 1884 the enrollment was 169. In 1894 the enrollment had increased to 712, and 54 officers and teachers were employed. Besides the growth in the number of students and instructors, there had also been quite an increase in the number of buildings, and in every way the students were made more comfortable in their surroundings. By 1893 we had upon the school grounds thirty buildings of various kinds and sizes, practically all built by the labor of the students.
Between 1884 and 1894, I think, the hardest work was done in securing money. Regularly, during this period, we were compelled, on account of lack of accommodations, to refuse many students, but very often they would come to us under such circumstances that, though lacking in accommodations, we could not have the heart to turn them away, especially after they had traveled long distances, as was true in many cases. Students seemed willing to put up
with almost any kind of accommodations if they were given a chance to secure an education.
During this period either Miss Davidson or myself, or sometimes both of us, spent a great deal of time in the North getting funds with which to meet our ever increasing demands. This, of course, was the hardest and most trying part of the work. Beginning early in the morning, the day was spent in seeing individuals at their homes or in their offices; and in the evening, and sometimes during the day, too, addresses were delivered before churches, Sunday Schools, or other organizations. On many occasions I have spoken as many as five times at different churches on the same Sabbath.
The large increase in the number of students tempted us often to put up buildings for which we had no money. In the early days of the institution by far the larger proportion of the buildings were begun on faith. I remember at one time we began a building which cost in the end about $8,000, and we had only $200 in cash with which to pay for it; nevertheless the building was completed after a hard struggle and is now in constant use.
I remember at one time we were very much in need of money with which to meet pressing obligations. I borrowed $400 from a friend, with the understanding that the money
must be returned within thirty days. On the morning of the day that the thirty days expired we were without the $400 with which to repay the loan, and were, of course, very much depressed in consequence. The mail, however, came in at about eleven o'clock, and brought a check from a friend for exactly $400. I could give a number of other such instances illustrating how we were relieved from embarrassing circumstances in ways that have always seemed to me to have been providential. Although the institution has had occasion many times to give promis