Chapter XVII.

Last Words

Before going to Europe some events came into my life which were great

surprises to me. In fact, my whole life has largely been one of

surprises. I believe that any man’s life will be filled with constant,

unexpected encouragements of this kind if he makes up his mind to do

his level best each day of his life—that is, tries to make each day

reach as nearly as possible the high-water mark of pure, unselfish,

useful living. I pity the man, black or white, who has never

experienced the joy and satisfaction that come to one by reason of an

effort to assist in making some one else more useful and more happy.

Six months before he died, and nearly a year after he had been stricken

with paralysis, General Armstrong expressed a wish to visit Tuskegee

again before he passed away. Notwithstanding the fact that he had lost

the use of his limbs to such an extent that he was practically

helpless, his wish was gratified, and he was brought to Tuskegee. The

owners of the Tuskegee Railroad, white men living in the town, offered

to run a special train, without cost, out of the main station—Chehaw,

five miles away—to meet him. He arrived on the school grounds about

nine o’clock in the evening. Some one had suggested that we give the

General a “pine-knot torchlight reception.” This plan was carried out,

and the moment that his carriage entered the school grounds he began

passing between two lines of lighted and waving “fat pine” wood knots

held by over a thousand students and teachers. The whole thing was so

novel and surprising that the General was completely overcome with

happiness. He remained a guest in my home for nearly two months, and,

although almost wholly without the use of voice or limb, he spent

nearly every hour in devising ways and means to help the South. Time

and time again he said to me, during this visit, that it was not only

the duty of the country to assist in elevating the Negro of the South,

but the poor white man as well. At the end of his visit I resolved anew

to devote myself more earnestly than ever to the cause which was so

near his heart. I said that if a man in his condition was willing to

think, work, and act, I should not be wanting in furthering in every

possible way the wish of his heart.

The death of General Armstrong, a few weeks later, gave me the

privilege of getting acquainted with one of the finest, most unselfish,

and most attractive men that I have ever come in contact with. I refer

to the Rev. Dr. Hollis B. Frissell, now the Principal of the Hampton

Institute, and General Armstrong’s successor. Under the clear, strong,

and almost perfect leadership of Dr. Frissell, Hampton has had a career

of prosperity and usefulness that is all that the General could have

wished for. It seems to be the constant effort of Dr. Frissell to hide

his own great personality behind that of General Armstrong—to make

himself of “no reputation” for the sake of the cause.

More than once I have been asked what was the greatest surprise that

ever came to me. I have little hesitation in answering that question.

It was the following letter, which came to me one Sunday morning when I

was sitting on the veranda of my home at Tuskegee, surrounded by my

wife and three children:—

Harvard University, Cambridge, May 28, 1896.

President Booker T. Washington,

My Dear Sir: Harvard University desired to confer on you at the

approaching Commencement an honorary degree; but it is our custom to

confer degrees only on gentlemen who are present. Our Commencement

occurs this year on June 24, and your presence would be desirable from

about noon till about five o’clock in the afternoon. Would it be

possible for you to be in Cambridge on that day?

Believe me, with great regard,

Very truly yours,

Charles W. Eliot.

This was a recognition that had never in the slightest manner entered

into my mind, and it was hard for me to realize that I was to be

honoured by a degree from the oldest and most renowned university in

America. As I sat upon my veranda, with this letter in my hand, tears

came into my eyes. My whole former life—my life as a slave on the

plantation, my work in the coal-mine, the times when I was without food

and clothing, when I made my bed under a sidewalk, my struggles for an

education, the trying days I had had at Tuskegee, days when I did not

know where to turn for a dollar to continue the work there, the

ostracism and sometimes oppression of my race,—all this passed before

me and nearly overcame me.

I had never sought or cared for what the world calls fame. I have

always looked upon fame as something to be used in accomplishing good.

I have often said to my friends that if I can use whatever prominence

may have come to me as an instrument with which to do good, I am

content to have it. I care for it only as a means to be used for doing

good, just as wealth may be used. The more I come into contact with

wealthy people, the more I believe that they are growing in the

direction of looking upon their money simply as an instrument which God

has placed in their hand for doing good with. I never go to the office

of Mr. John D. Rockefeller, who more than once has been generous to

Tuskegee, without being reminded of this. The close, careful, and

minute investigation that he always makes in order to be sure that

every dollar that he gives will do the most good—an investigation that

is just as searching as if he were investing money in a business

enterprise—convinces me that the growth in this direction is most

encouraging.

At nine o’clock, on the morning of June 24, I met President Eliot, the

Board of Overseers of Harvard University, and the other guests, at the

designated place on the university grounds, for the purpose of being

escorted to Sanders Theatre, where the Commencement exercises were to

be held and degrees conferred. Among others invited to be present for

the purpose of receiving a degree at this time were General Nelson A.

Miles, Dr. Bell, the inventor of the Bell telephone, Bishop Vincent,

and the Rev. Minot J. Savage. We were placed in line immediately behind

the President and the Board of Overseers, and directly afterward the

Governor of Massachusetts, escorted by the Lancers, arrived and took

his place in the line of march by the side of President Eliot. In the

line there were also various other officers and professors, clad in cap

and gown. In this order we marched to Sanders Theatre, where, after the

usual Commencement exercises, came the conferring of the honorary

degrees. This, it seems, is always considered the most interesting

feature at Harvard. It is not known, until the individuals appear, upon

whom the honorary degrees are to be conferred, and those receiving

these honours are cheered by the students and others in proportion to

their popularity. During the conferring of the degrees excitement and

enthusiasm are at the highest pitch.

When my name was called, I rose, and President Eliot, in beautiful and

strong English, conferred upon me the degree of Master of Arts. After

these exercises were over, those who had received honorary degrees were

invited to lunch with the President. After the lunch we were formed in

line again, and were escorted by the Marshal of the day, who that year

happened to be Bishop William Lawrence, through the grounds, where, at

different points, those who had been honoured were called by name and

received the Harvard yell. This march ended at Memorial Hall, where the

alumni dinner was served. To see over a thousand strong men,

representing all that is best in State, Church, business, and

education, with the glow and enthusiasm of college loyalty and college

pride,—which has, I think, a peculiar Harvard flavour,—is a sight that

does not easily fade from memory.

Among the speakers after dinner were President Eliot, Governor Roger

Wolcott, General Miles, Dr. Minot J. Savage, the Hon. Henry Cabot

Lodge, and myself. When I was called upon, I said, among other things:—

It would in some measure relieve my embarrassment if I could, even in a

slight degree, feel myself worthy of the great honour which you do me

to-day. Why you have called me from the Black Belt of the South, from

among my humble people, to share in the honours of this occasion, is

not for me to explain; and yet it may not be inappropriate for me to

suggest that it seems to me that one of the most vital questions that

touch our American life is how to bring the strong, wealthy, and

learned into helpful touch with the poorest, most ignorant, and

humblest, and at the same time make one appreciate the vitalizing,

strengthening influence of the other. How shall we make the mansion on

yon Beacon Street feel and see the need of the spirits in the lowliest

cabin in Alabama cotton-fields or Louisiana sugar-bottoms? This problem

Harvard University is solving, not by bringing itself down, but by

bringing the masses up.

If my life in the past has meant anything in the lifting up of my

people and the bringing about of better relations between your race and

mine, I assure you from this day it will mean doubly more. In the

economy of God there is but one standard by which an individual can

succeed—there is but one for a race. This country demands that every

race shall measure itself by the American standard. By it a race must

rise or fall, succeed or fail, and in the last analysis mere sentiment

counts for little. During the next half-century and more, my race must

continue passing through the severe American crucible. We are to be

tested in our patience, our forbearance, our perseverance, our power to

endure wrong, to withstand temptations, to economize, to acquire and

use skill; in our ability to compete, to succeed in commerce, to

disregard the superficial for the real, the appearance for the

substance, to be great and yet small, learned and yet simple, high and

yet the servant of all.

As this was the first time that a New England university had conferred

an honorary degree upon a Negro, it was the occasion of much newspaper

comment throughout the country. A correspondent of a New York paper

said:—

When the name of Booker T. Washington was called, and he arose to

acknowledge and accept, there was such an outburst of applause as

greeted no other name except that of the popular soldier patriot,

General Miles. The applause was not studied and stiff, sympathetic and

condoling; it was enthusiasm and admiration. Every part of the audience

from pit to gallery joined in, and a glow covered the cheeks of those

around me, proving sincere appreciation of the rising struggle of an

ex-slave and the work he has accomplished for his race.

A Boston paper said, editorially:—

In conferring the honorary degree of Master of Arts upon the Principal

of Tuskegee Institute, Harvard University has honoured itself as well

as the object of this distinction. The work which Professor Booker T.

Washington has accomplished for the education, good citizenship, and

popular enlightenment in his chosen field of labour in the South

entitles him to rank with our national benefactors. The university

which can claim him on its list of sons, whether in regular course or

honoris causa, may be proud.

It has been mentioned that Mr. Washington is the first of his race to

receive an honorary degree from a New England university. This, in

itself, is a distinction. But the degree was not conferred because Mr.

Washington is a coloured man, or because he was born in slavery, but

because he has shown, by his work for the elevation of the people of

the Black Belt of the South, a genius and a broad humanity which count

for greatness in any man, whether his skin be white or black.

Another Boston paper said:—

It is Harvard which, first among New England colleges, confers an

honorary degree upon a black man. No one who has followed the history

of Tuskegee and its work can fail to admire the courage, persistence,

and splendid common sense of Booker T. Washington. Well may Harvard

honour the ex-slave, the value of whose services, alike to his race and

country, only the future can estimate.

The correspondent of the New York Times wrote:—

All the speeches were enthusiastically received, but the coloured man

carried off the oratorical honours, and the applause which broke out

when he had finished was vociferous and long-continued.

Soon after I began work at Tuskegee I formed a resolution, in the

secret of my heart, that I would try to build up a school that would be

of so much service to the country that the President of the United

States would one day come to see it. This was, I confess, rather a bold

resolution, and for a number of years I kept it hidden in my own

thoughts, not daring to share it with any one.

In November, 1897, I made the first move in this direction, and that

was in securing a visit from a member of President McKinley’s Cabinet,

the Hon. James Wilson, Secretary of Agriculture. He came to deliver an

address at the formal opening of the Slater-Armstrong Agricultural

Building, our first large building to be used for the purpose of giving

training to our students in agriculture and kindred branches.

In the fall of 1898 I heard that President McKinley was likely to visit

Atlanta, Georgia, for the purpose of taking part in the Peace Jubilee

exercises to be held there to commemorate the successful close of the

Spanish-American war. At this time I had been hard at work, together

with our teachers, for eighteen years, trying to build up a school that

we thought would be of service to the Nation, and I determined to make

a direct effort to secure a visit from the President and his Cabinet. I

went to Washington, and I was not long in the city before I found my

way to the White House. When I got there I found the waiting rooms full

of people, and my heart began to sink, for I feared there would not be

much chance of my seeing the President that day, if at all. But, at any

rate, I got an opportunity to see Mr. J. Addison Porter, the secretary

to the President, and explained to him my mission. Mr. Porter kindly

sent my card directly to the President, and in a few minutes word came

from Mr. McKinley that he would see me.

How any man can see so many people of all kinds, with all kinds of

errands, and do so much hard work, and still keep himself calm,

patient, and fresh for each visitor in the way that President McKinley

does, I cannot understand. When I saw the President he kindly thanked

me for the work which we were doing at Tuskegee for the interests of

the country. I then told him, briefly, the object of my visit. I

impressed upon him the fact that a visit from the Chief Executive of

the Nation would not only encourage our students and teachers, but

would help the entire race. He seemed interested, but did not make a

promise to go to Tuskegee, for the reason that his plans about going to

Atlanta were not then fully made; but he asked me to call the matter to

his attention a few weeks later.

By the middle of the following month the President had definitely

decided to attend the Peace Jubilee at Atlanta. I went to Washington

again and saw him, with a view of getting him to extend his trip to

Tuskegee. On this second visit Mr. Charles W. Hare, a prominent white

citizen of Tuskegee, kindly volunteered to accompany me, to reenforce

my invitation with one from the white people of Tuskegee and the

vicinity.

Just previous to my going to Washington the second time, the country

had been excited, and the coloured people greatly depressed, because of

several severe race riots which had occurred at different points in the

South. As soon as I saw the President, I perceived that his heart was

greatly burdened by reason of these race disturbances. Although there

were many people waiting to see him, he detained me for some time,

discussing the condition and prospects of the race. He remarked several

times that he was determined to show his interest and faith in the

race, not merely in words, but by acts. When I told him that I thought

that at that time scarcely anything would go farther in giving hope and

encouragement to the race than the fact that the President of the

Nation would be willing to travel one hundred and forty miles out of

his way to spend a day at a Negro institution, he seemed deeply

impressed.

While I was with the President, a white citizen of Atlanta, a Democrat

and an ex-slaveholder, came into the room, and the President asked his

opinion as to the wisdom of his going to Tuskegee. Without hesitation

the Atlanta man replied that it was the proper thing for him to do.

This opinion was reenforced by that friend of the race, Dr. J.L.M.

Curry. The President promised that he would visit our school on the

16th of December.

When it became known that the President was going to visit our school,

the white citizens of the town of Tuskegee—a mile distant from the

school—were as much pleased as were our students and teachers. The

white people of this town, including both men and women, began

arranging to decorate the town, and to form themselves into committees

for the purpose of cooperating with the officers of our school in order

that the distinguished visitor might have a fitting reception. I think

I never realized before this how much the white people of Tuskegee and

vicinity thought of our institution. During the days when we were

preparing for the President’s reception, dozens of these people came to

me and said that, while they did not want to push themselves into

prominence, if there was anything they could do to help, or to relieve

me personally, I had but to intimate it and they would be only too glad

to assist. In fact, the thing that touched me almost as deeply as the

visit of the President itself was the deep pride which all classes of

citizens in Alabama seemed to take in our work.

The morning of December 16th brought to the little city of Tuskegee

such a crowd as it had never seen before. With the President came Mrs.

McKinley and all of the Cabinet officers but one; and most of them

brought their wives or some members of their families. Several

prominent generals came, including General Shafter and General Joseph

Wheeler, who were recently returned from the Spanish-American war.

There was also a host of newspaper correspondents. The Alabama

Legislature was in session in Montgomery at this time. This body passed

a resolution to adjourn for the purpose of visiting Tuskegee. Just

before the arrival of the President’s party the Legislature arrived,

headed by the governor and other state officials.

The citizens of Tuskegee had decorated the town from the station to the

school in a generous manner. In order to economize in the matter of

time, we arranged to have the whole school pass in review before the

President. Each student carried a stalk of sugar-cane with some open

bolls of cotton fastened to the end of it. Following the students the

work of all departments of the school passed in review, displayed on

“floats” drawn by horses, mules, and oxen. On these floats we tried to

exhibit not only the present work of the school, but to show the

contrasts between the old methods of doing things and the new. As an

example, we showed the old method of dairying in contrast with the

improved methods, the old methods of tilling the soil in contrast with

the new, the old methods of cooking and housekeeping in contrast with

the new. These floats consumed an hour and a half of time in passing.

In his address in our large, new chapel, which the students had

recently completed, the President said, among other things:—

To meet you under such pleasant auspices and to have the opportunity of

a personal observation of your work is indeed most gratifying. The

Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute is ideal in its conception,

and has already a large and growing reputation in the country, and is

not unknown abroad. I congratulate all who are associated in this

undertaking for the good work which it is doing in the education of its

students to lead lives of honour and usefulness, thus exalting the race

for which it was established.

Nowhere, I think, could a more delightful location have been chosen for

this unique educational experiment, which has attracted the attention

and won the support even of conservative philanthropists in all

sections of the country.

To speak of Tuskegee without paying special tribute to Booker T.

Washington’s genius and perseverance would be impossible. The inception

of this noble enterprise was his, and he deserves high credit for it.

His was the enthusiasm and enterprise which made its steady progress

possible and established in the institution its present high standard

of accomplishment. He has won a worthy reputation as one of the great

leaders of his race, widely known and much respected at home and abroad

as an accomplished educator, a great orator, and a true philanthropist.

The Hon. John D. Long, the Secretary of the Navy, said in part:—

I cannot make a speech to-day. My heart is too full—full of hope,

admiration, and pride for my countrymen of both sections and both

colours. I am filled with gratitude and admiration for your work, and

from this time forward I shall have absolute confidence in your

progress and in the solution of the problem in which you are engaged.

The problem, I say, has been solved. A picture has been presented

to-day which should be put upon canvas with the pictures of Washington

and Lincoln, and transmitted to future time and generations—a picture

which the press of the country should spread broadcast over the land, a

most dramatic picture, and that picture is this: The President of the

United States standing on this platform; on one side the Governor of

Alabama, on the other, completing the trinity, a representative of a

race only a few years ago in bondage, the coloured President of the

Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute.

God bless the President under whose majesty such a scene as that is

presented to the American people. God bless the state of Alabama, which

is showing that it can deal with this problem for itself. God bless the

orator, philanthropist, and disciple of the Great Master—who, if he

were on earth, would be doing the same work—Booker T. Washington.

Postmaster General Smith closed the address which he made with these

words:—

We have witnessed many spectacles within the last few days. We have

seen the magnificent grandeur and the magnificent achievements of one

of the great metropolitan cities of the South. We have seen heroes of

the war pass by in procession. We have seen floral parades. But I am

sure my colleagues will agree with me in saying that we have witnessed

no spectacle more impressive and more encouraging, more inspiring for

our future, than that which we have witnessed here this morning.

Some days after the President returned to Washington I received the

letter which follows:—

Executive Mansion, Washington, Dec. 23, 1899.

Dear Sir: By this mail I take pleasure in sending you engrossed copies

of the souvenir of the visit of the President to your institution.

These sheets bear the autographs of the President and the members of

the Cabinet who accompanied him on the trip. Let me take this

opportunity of congratulating you most heartily and sincerely upon the

great success of the exercises provided for and entertainment furnished

us under your auspices during our visit to Tuskegee. Every feature of

the programme was perfectly executed and was viewed or participated in

with the heartiest satisfaction by every visitor present. The unique

exhibition which you gave of your pupils engaged in their industrial

vocations was not only artistic but thoroughly impressive. The tribute

paid by the President and his Cabinet to your work was none too high,

and forms a most encouraging augury, I think, for the future prosperity

of your institution. I cannot close without assuring you that the

modesty shown by yourself in the exercises was most favourably

commented upon by all the members of our party.

With best wishes for the continued advance of your most useful and

patriotic undertaking, kind personal regards, and the compliments of

the season, believe me, always,

Very sincerely yours,

John Addison Porter,

Secretary to the President.

To President Booker T. Washington, Tuskegee Normal and Industrial

Institute, Tuskegee, Ala.

Twenty years have now passed since I made the first humble effort at

Tuskegee, in a broken-down shanty and an old hen-house, without owning

a dollar’s worth of property, and with but one teacher and thirty

students. At the present time the institution owns twenty-three hundred

acres of land, one thousand of which are under cultivation each year,

entirely by student labour. There are now upon the grounds, counting

large and small, sixty-six buildings; and all except four of these have

been almost wholly erected by the labour of our students. While the

students are at work upon the land and in erecting buildings, they are

taught, by competent instructors, the latest methods of agriculture and

the trades connected with building.

There are in constant operation at the school, in connection with

thorough academic and religious training, thirty industrial

departments. All of these teach industries at which our men and women

can find immediate employment as soon as they leave the institution.

The only difficulty now is that the demand for our graduates from both

white and black people in the South is so great that we cannot supply

more than one-half the persons for whom applications come to us.

Neither have we the buildings nor the money for current expenses to

enable us to admit to the school more than one-half the young men and

women who apply to us for admission.

In our industrial teaching we keep three things in mind: first, that

the student shall be so educated that he shall be enabled to meet

conditions as they exist now, in the part of the South where he

lives—in a word, to be able to do the thing which the world wants done;

second, that every student who graduates from the school shall have

enough skill, coupled with intelligence and moral character, to enable

him to make a living for himself and others; third, to send every

graduate out feeling and knowing that labour is dignified and

beautiful—to make each one love labour instead of trying to escape it.

In addition to the agricultural training which we give to young men,

and the training given to our girls in all the usual domestic

employments, we now train a number of girls in agriculture each year.

These girls are taught gardening, fruit-growing, dairying, bee-culture,

and poultry-raising.

While the institution is in no sense denominational, we have a

department known as the Phelps Hall Bible Training School, in which a

number of students are prepared for the ministry and other forms of

Christian work, especially work in the country districts. What is

equally important, each one of the students works half of each day at

some industry, in order to get skill and the love of work, so that when

he goes out from the institution he is prepared to set the people with

whom he goes to labour a proper example in the matter of industry.

The value of our property is now over $700,000. If we add to this our

endowment fund, which at present is $1,000,000, the value of the total

property is now $1,700,000. Aside from the need for more buildings and

for money for current expenses, the endowment fund should be increased

to at least $3,000,000. The annual current expenses are now about

$150,000. The greater part of this I collect each year by going from

door to door and from house to house. All of our property is free from

mortgage, and is deeded to an undenominational board of trustees who

have the control of the institution.

From thirty students the number has grown to fourteen hundred, coming

from twenty-seven states and territories, from Africa, Cuba, Porto

Rico, Jamaica, and other foreign countries. In our departments there

are one hundred and ten officers and instructors; and if we add the

families of our instructors, we have a constant population upon our

grounds of not far from seventeen hundred people.

I have often been asked how we keep so large a body of people together,

and at the same time keep them out of mischief. There are two answers:

that the men and women who come to us for an education are in earnest;

and that everybody is kept busy. The following outline of our daily

work will testify to this:—

5 a.m., rising bell; 5.50 a.m., warning breakfast bell; 6 a.m.,

breakfast bell; 6.20 a.m., breakfast over; 6.20 to 6.50 a.m., rooms are

cleaned; 6.50, work bell; 7.30, morning study hours; 8.20, morning

school bell; 8.25, inspection of young men’s toilet in ranks; 8.40,

devotional exercises in chapel; 8.55, “five minutes with the daily

news;” 9 a.m., class work begins; 12, class work closes; 12.15 p.m.,

dinner; 1 p.m., work bell; 1.30 p.m., class work begins; 3.30 p.m.,

class work ends; 5.30 p.m., bell to “knock off” work; 6 p.m., supper;

7.10 p.m., evening prayers; 7.30 p.m., evening study hours; 8.45 p.m.,

evening study hour closes; 9.20 p.m., warning retiring bell; 9.30 p.m.,

retiring bell.

We try to keep constantly in mind the fact that the worth of the school

is to be judged by its graduates. Counting those who have finished the

full course, together with those who have taken enough training to

enable them to do reasonably good work, we can safely say that at least

six thousand men and women from Tuskegee are now at work in different

parts of the South; men and women who, by their own example or by

direct efforts, are showing the masses of our race now to improve their

material, educational, and moral and religious life. What is equally

important, they are exhibiting a degree of common sense and

self-control which is causing better relations to exist between the

races, and is causing the Southern white man to learn to believe in the

value of educating the men and women of my race. Aside from this, there

is the influence that is constantly being exerted through the mothers’

meeting and the plantation work conducted by Mrs. Washington.

Wherever our graduates go, the changes which soon begin to appear in

the buying of land, improving homes, saving money, in education, and in

high moral characters are remarkable. Whole communities are fast being

revolutionized through the instrumentality of these men and women.

Ten years ago I organized at Tuskegee the first Negro Conference. This

is an annual gathering which now brings to the school eight or nine

hundred representative men and women of the race, who come to spend a

day in finding out what the actual industrial, mental, and moral

conditions of the people are, and in forming plans for improvement. Out

from this central Negro Conference at Tuskegee have grown numerous

state and local conferences which are doing the same kind of work. As a

result of the influence of these gatherings, one delegate reported at

the last annual meeting that ten families in his community had bought

and paid for homes. On the day following the annual Negro Conference,

there is the “Workers’ Conference.” This is composed of officers and

teachers who are engaged in educational work in the larger institutions

in the South. The Negro Conference furnishes a rare opportunity for

these workers to study the real condition of the rank and file of the

people.

In the summer of 1900, with the assistance of such prominent coloured

men as Mr. T. Thomas Fortune, who has always upheld my hands in every

effort, I organized the National Negro Business League, which held its

first meeting in Boston, and brought together for the first time a

large number of the coloured men who are engaged in various lines of

trade or business in different parts of the United States. Thirty

states were represented at our first meeting. Out of this national

meeting grew state and local business leagues.

In addition to looking after the executive side of the work at

Tuskegee, and raising the greater part of the money for the support of

the school, I cannot seem to escape the duty of answering at least a

part of the calls which come to me unsought to address Southern white

audiences and audiences of my own race, as well as frequent gatherings

in the North. As to how much of my time is spent in this way, the

following clipping from a Buffalo (N.Y.) paper will tell. This has

reference to an occasion when I spoke before the National Educational

Association in that city.

Booker T. Washington, the foremost educator among the coloured people

of the world, was a very busy man from the time he arrived in the city

the other night from the West and registered at the Iroquois. He had

hardly removed the stains of travel when it was time to partake of

supper. Then he held a public levee in the parlours of the Iroquois

until eight o’clock. During that time he was greeted by over two

hundred eminent teachers and educators from all parts of the United

States. Shortly after eight o’clock he was driven in a carriage to

Music Hall, and in one hour and a half he made two ringing addresses,

to as many as five thousand people, on Negro education. Then Mr.

Washington was taken in charge by a delegation of coloured citizens,

headed by the Rev. Mr. Watkins, and hustled off to a small informal

reception, arranged in honour of the visitor by the people of his race.

Nor can I, in addition to making these addresses, escape the duty of

calling the attention of the South and of the country in general,

through the medium of the press, to matters that pertain to the

interests of both races. This, for example, I have done in regard to

the evil habit of lynching. When the Louisiana State Constitutional

Convention was in session, I wrote an open letter to that body pleading

for justice for the race. In all such efforts I have received warm and

hearty support from the Southern newspapers, as well as from those in

all other parts of the country.

Despite superficial and temporary signs which might lead one to

entertain a contrary opinion, there was never a time when I felt more

hopeful for the race than I do at the present. The great human law that

in the end recognizes and rewards merit is everlasting and universal.

The outside world does not know, neither can it appreciate, the

struggle that is constantly going on in the hearts of both the Southern

white people and their former slaves to free themselves from racial

prejudice; and while both races are thus struggling they should have

the sympathy, the support, and the forbearance of the rest of the

world.

As I write the closing words of this autobiography I find myself—not by

design—in the city of Richmond, Virginia: the city which only a few

decades ago was the capital of the Southern Confederacy, and where,

about twenty-five years ago, because of my poverty I slept night after

night under a sidewalk.

This time I am in Richmond as the guest of the coloured people of the

city; and came at their request to deliver an address last night to

both races in the Academy of Music, the largest and finest audience

room in the city. This was the first time that the coloured people had

ever been permitted to use this hall. The day before I came, the City

Council passed a vote to attend the meeting in a body to hear me speak.

The state Legislature, including the House of Delegates and the Senate,

also passed a unanimous vote to attend in a body. In the presence of

hundreds of coloured people, many distinguished white citizens, the

City Council, the state Legislature, and state officials, I delivered

my message, which was one of hope and cheer; and from the bottom of my

heart I thanked both races for this welcome back to the state that gave

me birth.