Europe

In 1893 I was married to Miss Margaret James Murray, a native of Mississippi, and a graduate of Fisk University, in Nashville, Tenn., who had come to Tuskegee as a teacher several years before, and at the time we were married was filling the position of Lady Principal. Not only is Mrs. Washington completely one with me in the work directly connected with the school, relieving me of many burdens and perplexities, but aside from her work on the school grounds, she carries on a mothers’ meeting in the town of Tuskegee, and a plantation work among the women, children, and men who live in a settlement connected with a large plantation about eight miles from Tuskegee. Both the mothers’ meeting and the plantation work are carried on, not only with a view to helping those who are directly reached, but also for the purpose of furnishing object-lessons in these two kinds of work that may be followed by our students when they go out into the world for their own life-work.

In 1893 I married Miss Margaret James Murray, a native of Mississippi and a graduate of Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee. She had come to Tuskegee as a teacher several years earlier. At the time we married, she was serving as Lady Principal. Mrs. Washington is fully united with me in the work directly connected with the school, relieving me of many burdens and difficulties. But she also works beyond the school grounds. She runs a mothers’ meeting in the town of Tuskegee. She also works with women, children, and men living in a settlement on a large plantation about eight miles from Tuskegee. Both the mothers’ meeting and the plantation work are meant to help those they reach directly. They are also meant to provide examples of these two kinds of work for our students to follow when they go out into the world to take up their own life’s work.

Aside from these two enterprises, Mrs. Washington is also largely responsible for a woman’s club at the school which brings together, twice a month, the women who live on the school grounds and those who live near, for the discussion of some important topic. She is also the President of what is known as the Federation of Southern Coloured Women’s Clubs, and is Chairman of the Executive Committee of the National Federation of Coloured Women’s Clubs.

Besides these two enterprises, Mrs. Washington is largely responsible for a women's club at the school. Twice a month, the club brings together women who live on or near the school grounds to discuss an important topic. She is also President of the Federation of Southern Coloured Women’s Clubs and Chair of the Executive Committee of the National Federation of Coloured Women’s Clubs.

Portia, the oldest of my three children, has learned dressmaking. She has unusual ability in instrumental music. Aside from her studies at Tuskegee, she has already begun to teach there.

Portia, the oldest of my three children, has learned dressmaking. She has unusual talent for playing music. Besides studying at Tuskegee, she has already begun teaching there.

Booker Taliaferro is my next oldest child. Young as he is, he has already nearly mastered the brickmason’s trade. He began working at this trade when he was quite small, dividing his time between this and class work; and he has developed great skill in the trade and a fondness for it. He says that he is going to be an architect and brickmason. One of the most satisfactory letters that I have ever received from any one came to me from Booker last summer. When I left home for the summer, I told him that he must work at his trade half of each day, and that the other half of the day he could spend as he pleased. When I had been away from home two weeks, I received the following letter from him:

Booker Taliaferro is my next oldest child. Though he is young, he has already nearly mastered bricklaying. He began learning the trade when he was very small, dividing his time between bricklaying and classwork. He has become very skilled at bricklaying and has grown fond of it. He says he is going to be an architect and a brickmason. One of the most satisfying letters I have ever received came from Booker last summer. Before I left home for the summer, I told him he must spend half of each day working at his trade. He could spend the other half as he pleased. After I had been away for two weeks, I received the following letter from him:

Tuskegee, Alabama.

Tuskegee, Alabama.

My dear Papa: Before you left home you told me to work at my trade half of each day. I like my work so much that I want to work at my trade all day. Besides, I want to earn all the money I can, so that when I go to another school I shall have money to pay my expenses.

Dear Papa: Before you left home, you told me to work at my trade for half of each day. I like my work so much that I want to do it all day. I also want to earn all the money I can, so that when I go to another school, I will have money to pay my expenses.

Your son,

Your son,

Booker.

Booker.

My youngest child, Ernest Davidson Washington, says that he is going to be a physician. In addition to going to school, where he studies books and has manual training, he regularly spends a portion of his time in the office of our resident physician, and has already learned to do many of the duties which pertain to a doctor’s office.

My youngest child, Ernest Davidson Washington, says he plans to become a doctor. At school, he studies books and receives manual training. He also regularly spends some of his time in our resident physician’s office. He has already learned to perform many of the duties in a doctor’s office.

The thing in my life which brings me the keenest regret is that my work in connection with public affairs keeps me for so much of the time away from my family, where, of all places in the world, I delight to be. I always envy the individual whose life-work is so laid that he can spend his evenings at home. I have sometimes thought that people who have this rare privilege do not appreciate it as they should. It is such a rest and relief to get away from crowds of people, and handshaking, and travelling, to get home, even if it be for but a very brief while.

My greatest regret is that my work in public affairs keeps me away from my family so much. More than anywhere else in the world, I love being with them. I always envy people whose work allows them to spend their evenings at home. I have sometimes thought that people with this rare privilege do not appreciate it as much as they should. It is such a rest and relief to get away from crowds, handshaking, and travel and come home, even briefly.

Another thing at Tuskegee out of which I get a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction is in the meeting with our students, and teachers, and their families, in the chapel for devotional exercises every evening at half-past eight, the last thing before retiring for the night. It is an inspiring sight when one stands on the platform there and sees before him eleven or twelve hundred earnest young men and women; and one cannot but feel that it is a privilege to help to guide them to a higher and more useful life.

Another thing at Tuskegee that gives me great pleasure and satisfaction is our evening gathering in the chapel. At 8:30 each evening, just before going to bed, I join our students, teachers, and their families for devotions. Standing on the platform and seeing eleven or twelve hundred earnest young men and women is inspiring. I cannot help feeling that it is a privilege to guide them toward a higher and more useful life.

In the spring of 1899 there came to me what I might describe as almost the greatest surprise of my life. Some good ladies in Boston arranged a public meeting in the interests of Tuskegee, to be held in the Hollis Street Theatre. This meeting was attended by large numbers of the best people of Boston, of both races. Bishop Lawrence presided. In addition to an address made by myself, Mr. Paul Lawrence Dunbar read from his poems, and Dr. W.E.B. Du Bois read an original sketch.

In the spring of 1899, I had what I might describe as almost the greatest surprise of my life. Some kind women in Boston organized a public meeting at the Hollis Street Theatre to support Tuskegee. Large numbers of Boston’s finest people attended, including people of both races. Bishop Lawrence presided. I gave a speech, Mr. Paul Lawrence Dunbar read from his poems, and Dr. W.E.B. Du Bois read an original sketch.

Some of those who attended this meeting noticed that I seemed unusually tired, and some little time after the close of the meeting, one of the ladies who had been interested in it asked me in a casual way if I had ever been to Europe. I replied that I never had. She asked me if I had ever thought of going, and I told her no; that it was something entirely beyond me. This conversation soon passed out of my mind, but a few days afterward I was informed that some friends in Boston, including Mr. Francis J. Garrison, had raised a sum of money sufficient to pay all the expenses of Mrs. Washington and myself during a three or four months’ trip to Europe. It was added with emphasis that we must go. A year previous to this Mr. Garrison had attempted to get me to promise to go to Europe for a summer’s rest, with the understanding that he would be responsible for raising the money among his friends for the expenses of the trip. At that time such a journey seemed so entirely foreign to anything that I should ever be able to undertake that I did confess I did not give the matter very serious attention; but later Mr. Garrison joined his efforts to those of the ladies whom I have mentioned, and when their plans were made known to me Mr. Garrison not only had the route mapped out, but had, I believe, selected the steamer upon which we were to sail.

Some people at the meeting noticed that I seemed unusually tired. A little while after the meeting ended, one of the ladies who had taken an interest in it casually asked me if I had ever been to Europe. I said I had not. She asked if I had ever thought of going. I told her no, that such a trip was entirely beyond my means. I soon forgot the conversation. But a few days later, I learned that some friends in Boston, including Mr. Francis J. Garrison, had raised enough money to cover all the expenses of a three- or four-month trip to Europe for Mrs. Washington and me. They emphasized that we must go. A year earlier, Mr. Garrison had tried to get me to promise to go to Europe for a summer’s rest. He had offered to raise the money for the trip among his friends. At the time, such a journey seemed so far beyond anything I could ever do that I confess I did not take the idea very seriously. But later, Mr. Garrison joined the ladies I have mentioned in their efforts. By the time they told me of their plans, he had mapped out the route and, I believe, even chosen the steamer on which we were to sail.

The whole thing was so sudden and so unexpected that I was completely taken off my feet. I had been at work steadily for eighteen years in connection with Tuskegee, and I had never thought of anything else but ending my life in that way. Each day the school seemed to depend upon me more largely for its daily expenses, and I told these Boston friends that, while I thanked them sincerely for their thoughtfulness and generosity, I could not go to Europe, for the reason that the school could not live financially while I was absent. They then informed me that Mr. Henry L. Higginson, and some other good friends who I know do not want their names made public, were then raising a sum of money which would be sufficient to keep the school in operation while I was away. At this point I was compelled to surrender. Every avenue of escape had been closed.

The whole thing happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that I was completely overwhelmed. I had worked steadily with Tuskegee for eighteen years. I had never imagined doing anything else for the rest of my life. Each day, the school seemed to depend more heavily on me for its daily expenses. I sincerely thanked these Boston friends for their thoughtfulness and generosity, but I told them I could not go to Europe. The school could not survive financially while I was away. Then they told me that Mr. Henry L. Higginson and some other good friends were raising money. I know these other friends do not want their names made public. The money would be enough to keep the school running while I was away. At that point, I had to give in. Every way out had been closed.

Deep down in my heart the whole thing seemed more like a dream than like reality, and for a long time it was difficult for me to make myself believe that I was actually going to Europe. I had been born and largely reared in the lowest depths of slavery, ignorance, and poverty. In my childhood I had suffered for want of a place to sleep, for lack of food, clothing, and shelter. I had not had the privilege of sitting down to a dining-table until I was quite well grown. Luxuries had always seemed to me to be something meant for white people, not for my race. I had always regarded Europe, and London, and Paris, much as I regarded heaven. And now could it be that I was actually going to Europe? Such thoughts as these were constantly with me.

Deep down, the whole thing seemed more like a dream than reality. For a long time, I could hardly believe I was actually going to Europe. I had been born and raised largely in the lowest depths of slavery, ignorance, and poverty. As a child, I had suffered from a lack of food, clothing, shelter, and a place to sleep. I had not had the privilege of sitting down at a dining table until I was quite grown up. Luxuries had always seemed meant for white people, not for my race. I had always thought of Europe, London, and Paris much as I thought of heaven. And now, could I really be going to Europe? Thoughts like these were constantly with me.

Two other thoughts troubled me a good deal. I feared that people who heard that Mrs. Washington and I were going to Europe might not know all the circumstances, and might get the idea that we had become, as some might say, “stuck up,” and were trying to “show off.” I recalled that from my youth I had heard it said that too often, when people of my race reached any degree of success, they were inclined to unduly exalt themselves; to try and ape the wealthy, and in so doing to lose their heads. The fear that people might think this of us haunted me a good deal. Then, too, I could not see how my conscience would permit me to spare the time from my work and be happy. It seemed mean and selfish in me to be taking a vacation while others were at work, and while there was so much that needed to be done. From the time I could remember, I had always been at work, and I did not see how I could spend three or four months in doing nothing. The fact was that I did not know how to take a vacation.

Two other thoughts troubled me a great deal. I feared that people who heard Mrs. Washington and I were going to Europe might not know all the circumstances. They might think we had become, as some might say, “stuck up,” and were trying to “show off.” Since my youth, I had heard that people of my race too often became overly proud when they achieved any degree of success. I had heard that they tried to imitate the wealthy and, in doing so, lost their heads. The fear that people might think this of us haunted me. I also could not see how my conscience would let me take time away from my work and be happy. It seemed mean and selfish to take a vacation while others were working and so much needed to be done. For as long as I could remember, I had always worked. I could not see how I could spend three or four months doing nothing. The truth was that I did not know how to take a vacation.

Mrs. Washington had much the same difficulty in getting away, but she was anxious to go because she thought that I needed the rest. There were many important National questions bearing upon the life of the race which were being agitated at that time, and this made it all the harder for us to decide to go. We finally gave our Boston friends our promise that we would go, and then they insisted that the date of our departure be set as soon as possible. So we decided upon May 10. My good friend Mr. Garrison kindly took charge of all the details necessary for the success of the trip, and he, as well as other friends, gave us a great number of letters of introduction to people in France and England, and made other arrangements for our comfort and convenience abroad. Good-bys were said at Tuskegee, and we were in New York May 9, ready to sail the next day. Our daughter Portia, who was then studying in South Framingham, Mass., came to New York to see us off. Mr. Scott, my secretary, came with me to New York, in order that I might clear up the last bit of business before I left. Other friends also came to New York to see us off. Just before we went on board the steamer another pleasant surprise came to us in the form of a letter from two generous ladies, stating that they had decided to give us the money with which to erect a new building to be used in properly housing all our industries for girls at Tuskegee.

Mrs. Washington had much the same difficulty getting away, but she was eager to go because she thought I needed the rest. Many important national questions affecting the life of the race were being debated at the time. This made it even harder for us to decide to go. We finally promised our Boston friends that we would go. They then insisted that we set a departure date as soon as possible. So we chose May 10. My good friend Mr. Garrison kindly took charge of all the details needed to make the trip a success. He and other friends gave us many letters of introduction to people in France and England. They also made other arrangements for our comfort and convenience abroad. We said goodbye at Tuskegee and arrived in New York on May 9, ready to sail the next day. Our daughter Portia, who was then studying in South Framingham, Mass., came to New York to see us off. My secretary, Mr. Scott, came with me so I could finish the last of my business before leaving. Other friends also came to New York to see us off. Just before we boarded the steamer, we received another pleasant surprise. It was a letter from two generous ladies. They said they had decided to give us the money to build a new building at Tuskegee. The building would properly house all our industries for girls.

We were to sail on the Friesland, of the Red Star Line, and a beautiful vessel she was. We went on board just before noon, the hour of sailing. I had never before been on board a large ocean steamer, and the feeling which took possession of me when I found myself there is rather hard to describe. It was a feeling, I think, of awe mingled with delight. We were agreeably surprised to find that the captain, as well as several of the other officers, not only knew who we were, but was expecting us and gave us a pleasant greeting. There were several passengers whom we knew, including Senator Sewell, of New Jersey, and Edward Marshall, the newspaper correspondent. I had just a little fear that we would not be treated civilly by some of the passengers. This fear was based upon what I had heard other people of my race, who had crossed the ocean, say about unpleasant experiences in crossing the ocean in American vessels. But in our case, from the captain down to the most humble servant, we were treated with the greatest kindness. Nor was this kindness confined to those who were connected with the steamer; it was shown by all the passengers also. There were not a few Southern men and women on board, and they were as cordial as those from other parts of the country.

We were to sail on the Friesland, a beautiful ship of the Red Star Line. We boarded just before noon, when the ship was to sail. I had never been aboard a large ocean steamer before. The feeling that came over me was hard to describe. I think it was awe mixed with delight. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the captain and several other officers knew who we were. They were expecting us and greeted us warmly. We knew several passengers, including Senator Sewell of New Jersey and Edward Marshall, the newspaper correspondent. I was a little afraid that some passengers would not treat us politely. I had heard other people of my race describe unpleasant experiences crossing the ocean on American ships. But in our case, everyone from the captain to the most humble servant treated us with the greatest kindness. The kindness was not limited to the ship’s crew. All the passengers were kind to us as well. Quite a few Southern men and women were on board. They were as warm and friendly as those from other parts of the country.

As soon as the last good-bys were said, and the steamer had cut loose from the wharf, the load of care, anxiety, and responsibility which I had carried for eighteen years began to lift itself from my shoulders at the rate, it seemed to me, of a pound a minute. It was the first time in all those years that I had felt, even in a measure, free from care; and my feeling of relief it is hard to describe on paper. Added to this was the delightful anticipation of being in Europe soon. It all seemed more like a dream than like a reality.

As soon as the last goodbyes were said, the steamship pulled away from the dock. The burden of worry, anxiety, and responsibility I had carried for eighteen years began to lift from my shoulders. It seemed to lift at the rate of a pound a minute. For the first time in all those years, I felt at least somewhat free from worry. It is hard to describe in writing how relieved I felt. On top of that, I was delighted at the thought of soon being in Europe. It all seemed more like a dream than reality.

Mr. Garrison had thoughtfully arranged to have us have one of the most comfortable rooms on the ship. The second or third day out I began to sleep, and I think that I slept at the rate of fifteen hours a day during the remainder of the ten days’ passage. Then it was that I began to understand how tired I really was. These long sleeps I kept up for a month after we landed on the other side. It was such an unusual feeling to wake up in the morning and realize that I had no engagements; did not have to take a train at a certain hour; did not have an appointment to meet some one, or to make an address, at a certain hour. How different all this was from the experiences that I have been through when travelling, when I have sometimes slept in three different beds in a single night!

Mr. Garrison had thoughtfully arranged for us to have one of the most comfortable rooms on the ship. On the second or third day at sea, I began to sleep. I think I slept about fifteen hours a day for the rest of the ten-day crossing. Only then did I begin to understand how tired I really was. I continued sleeping for long stretches for a month after we landed on the other side. It was such an unusual feeling to wake up in the morning and realize I had no engagements. I did not have to catch a train at a certain hour. I had no appointment to meet someone or give a speech at a certain hour. How different this was from my experiences traveling, when I have sometimes slept in three different beds in one night!

When Sunday came, the captain invited me to conduct the religious services, but, not being a minister, I declined. The passengers, however, began making requests that I deliver an address to them in the dining-saloon some time during the voyage, and this I consented to do. Senator Sewell presided at this meeting. After ten days of delightful weather, during which I was not seasick for a day, we landed at the interesting old city of Antwerp, in Belgium.

When Sunday came, the captain invited me to lead the religious service, but I declined because I was not a minister. The passengers, however, began asking me to give a talk in the dining room sometime during the voyage. I agreed. Senator Sewell presided at the meeting. After ten days of delightful weather, during which I was not seasick for a single day, we landed in Antwerp, an interesting old city in Belgium.

The next day after we landed happened to be one of those numberless holidays which the people of those countries are in the habit of observing. It was a bright, beautiful day. Our room in the hotel faced the main public square, and the sights there—the people coming in from the country with all kinds of beautiful flowers to sell, the women coming in with their dogs drawing large, brightly polished cans filled with milk, the people streaming into the cathedral—filled me with a sense of newness that I had never before experienced.

The day after we landed happened to be one of the countless holidays people in those countries regularly celebrate. It was a bright, beautiful day. Our hotel room faced the main public square. People came in from the country selling all kinds of beautiful flowers. Women came in with dogs pulling large, brightly polished cans filled with milk. People streamed into the cathedral. These sights filled me with a sense of newness unlike anything I had ever experienced.

After spending some time in Antwerp, we were invited to go with a part of a half-dozen persons on a trip through Holland. This party included Edward Marshall and some American artists who had come over on the same steamer with us. We accepted the invitation, and enjoyed the trip greatly. I think it was all the more interesting and instructive because we went for most of the way on one of the slow, old-fashioned canal-boats. This gave us an opportunity of seeing and studying the real life of the people in the country districts. We went in this way as far as Rotterdam, and later went to The Hague, where the Peace Conference was then in session, and where we were kindly received by the American representatives.

After spending some time in Antwerp, we were invited to travel through Holland with a group of about six people. The group included Edward Marshall and some American artists who had crossed on the same steamship as us. We accepted the invitation and enjoyed the trip greatly. I think it was even more interesting and educational because we traveled most of the way on a slow, old-fashioned canal boat. This gave us a chance to see and study the real lives of people in the countryside. We traveled this way as far as Rotterdam. Later, we went to The Hague, where the Peace Conference was then meeting. The American representatives welcomed us kindly there.

The thing that impressed itself most on me in Holland was the thoroughness of the agriculture and the excellence of the Holstein cattle. I never knew, before visiting Holland, how much it was possible for people to get out of a small plot of ground. It seemed to me that absolutely no land was wasted. It was worth a trip to Holland, too, just to get a sight of three or four hundred fine Holstein cows grazing in one of those intensely green fields.

What impressed me most in Holland was how thoroughly the land was farmed and how excellent the Holstein cattle were. Before visiting Holland, I had never known how much people could get from a small plot of land. It seemed to me that absolutely no land was wasted. A trip to Holland was also worth it just to see three or four hundred fine Holstein cows grazing in one of those intensely green fields.

From Holland we went to Belgium, and made a hasty trip through that country, stopping at Brussels, where we visited the battlefield of Waterloo. From Belgium we went direct to Paris, where we found that Mr. Theodore Stanton, the son of Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, had kindly provided accommodations for us. We had barely got settled in Paris before an invitation came to me from the University Club of Paris to be its guest at a banquet which was soon to be given. The other guests were ex-President Benjamin Harrison and Archbishop Ireland, who were in Paris at the time. The American Ambassador, General Horace Porter, presided at the banquet. My address on this occasion seemed to give satisfaction to those who heard it. General Harrison kindly devoted a large portion of his remarks at dinner to myself and to the influence of the work at Tuskegee on the American race question. After my address at this banquet other invitations came to me, but I declined the most of them, knowing that if I accepted them all, the object of my visit would be defeated. I did, however, consent to deliver an address in the American chapel the following Sunday morning, and at this meeting General Harrison, General Porter, and other distinguished Americans were present.

From Holland we went to Belgium and traveled quickly through the country. We stopped in Brussels, where we visited the battlefield of Waterloo. From Belgium we went directly to Paris. There we found that Mr. Theodore Stanton, the son of Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, had kindly arranged accommodations for us. We had barely settled in Paris when the University Club of Paris invited me to be its guest at an upcoming banquet. The other guests were ex-President Benjamin Harrison and Archbishop Ireland, who were in Paris at the time. The American Ambassador, General Horace Porter, presided at the banquet. My speech seemed to satisfy those who heard it. General Harrison kindly devoted a large part of his remarks at dinner to me and to the influence of Tuskegee's work on the American race question. After my speech at the banquet, I received other invitations, but I declined most of them. I knew that if I accepted them all, I would not accomplish the purpose of my visit. I did, however, agree to give a speech at the American chapel the following Sunday morning. General Harrison, General Porter, and other distinguished Americans attended.

Later we received a formal call from the American Ambassador, and were invited to attend a reception at his residence. At this reception we met many Americans, among them Justices Fuller and Harlan, of the United States Supreme Court. During our entire stay of a month in Paris, both the American Ambassador and his wife, as well as several other Americans, were very kind to us.

Later, the American Ambassador paid us a formal visit and invited us to a reception at his home. At the reception, we met many Americans, including Justices Fuller and Harlan of the United States Supreme Court. Throughout our month in Paris, the American Ambassador, his wife, and several other Americans were very kind to us.

While in Paris we saw a good deal of the now famous American Negro painter, Mr. Henry O. Tanner, whom we had formerly known in America. It was very satisfactory to find how well known Mr. Tanner was in the field of art, and to note the high standing which all classes accorded to him. When we told some Americans that we were going to the Luxembourg Palace to see a painting by an American Negro, it was hard to convince them that a Negro had been thus honoured. I do not believe that they were really convinced of the fact until they saw the picture for themselves. My acquaintance with Mr. Tanner reenforced in my mind the truth which I am constantly trying to impress upon our students at Tuskegee—and on our people throughout the country, as far as I can reach them with my voice—that any man, regardless of colour, will be recognized and rewarded just in proportion as he learns to do something well—learns to do it better than some one else—however humble the thing may be. As I have said, I believe that my race will succeed in proportion as it learns to do a common thing in an uncommon manner; learns to do a thing so thoroughly that no one can improve upon what it has done; learns to make its services of indispensable value. This was the spirit that inspired me in my first effort at Hampton, when I was given the opportunity to sweep and dust that schoolroom. In a degree I felt that my whole future life depended upon the thoroughness with which I cleaned that room, and I was determined to do it so well that no one could find any fault with the job. Few people ever stopped, I found, when looking at his pictures, to inquire whether Mr. Tanner was a Negro painter, a French painter, or a German painter. They simply knew that he was able to produce something which the world wanted—a great painting—and the matter of his colour did not enter into their minds. When a Negro girl learns to cook, to wash dishes, to sew, or write a book, or a Negro boy learns to groom horses, or to grow sweet potatoes, or to produce butter, or to build a house, or to be able to practise medicine, as well or better than some one else, they will be rewarded regardless of race or colour. In the long run, the world is going to have the best, and any difference in race, religion, or previous history will not long keep the world from what it wants.

While in Paris, we spent a good deal of time with the now famous Black American painter, Mr. Henry O. Tanner. We had known him in America. It was very satisfying to find how well known Mr. Tanner was in the art world. It was also satisfying to see how highly people of all classes regarded him. We told some Americans that we were going to the Luxembourg Palace to see a painting by a Black American. It was hard to convince them that a Black artist had received such an honor. I do not believe they were truly convinced until they saw the painting for themselves. Knowing Mr. Tanner reinforced a truth I constantly try to impress upon our students at Tuskegee. I also try to impress it upon our people throughout the country, wherever my voice can reach them. Any man, regardless of color, will be recognized and rewarded in proportion to how well he learns to do something. He must learn to do it better than someone else, however humble the task may be. As I have said, I believe my race will succeed in proportion to how well it learns to do ordinary things extraordinarily well. We must learn to do a thing so thoroughly that no one can improve upon our work. We must learn to make our services indispensable. This was the spirit that inspired my first effort at Hampton. There I was given the opportunity to sweep and dust a schoolroom. To some degree, I felt that my whole future depended on how thoroughly I cleaned that room. I was determined to do it so well that no one could find fault with the job. I found that few people looking at Mr. Tanner's pictures ever stopped to ask whether he was a Black, French, or German painter. They simply knew that he could produce something the world wanted: a great painting. His color did not enter their minds. A Black girl may learn to cook, wash dishes, sew, or write a book. A Black boy may learn to groom horses, grow sweet potatoes, make butter, build a house, or practice medicine. If they learn to do these things as well as or better than someone else, they will be rewarded regardless of race or color. In the long run, the world is going to have the best. No difference in race, religion, or past history will keep the world from what it wants for long.

I think that the whole future of my race hinges on the question as to whether or not it can make itself of such indispensable value that the people in the town and the state where we reside will feel that our presence is necessary to the happiness and well-being of the community. No man who continues to add something to the material, intellectual, and moral well-being of the place in which he lives is long left without proper reward. This is a great human law which cannot be permanently nullified.

I believe the entire future of my race depends on whether we can make ourselves indispensable. The people in the towns and states where we live must feel that our presence is necessary for the community’s happiness and well-being. No one who continues to improve the material, intellectual, and moral well-being of their community goes long without proper reward. This is a great human law that cannot be permanently overturned.

The love of pleasure and excitement which seems in a large measure to possess the French people impressed itself upon me. I think they are more noted in this respect than is true of the people of my own race. In point of morality and moral earnestness I do not believe that the French are ahead of my own race in America. Severe competition and the great stress of life have led them to learn to do things more thoroughly and to exercise greater economy; but time, I think, will bring my race to the same point. In the matter of truth and high honour I do not believe that the average Frenchman is ahead of the American Negro; while so far as mercy and kindness to dumb animals go, I believe that my race is far ahead. In fact, when I left France, I had more faith in the future of the black man in America than I had ever possessed.

I was struck by how much the French people seem to love pleasure and excitement. I think they are more known for this than the people of my own race. In morality and seriousness about doing what is right, I do not believe the French are ahead of my race in America. Intense competition and the great pressures of life have taught the French to do things more thoroughly and be more economical. But I think that, in time, my race will reach the same point. In truthfulness and a strong sense of honor, I do not believe the average Frenchman is ahead of the American Negro. When it comes to mercy and kindness toward animals, I believe my race is far ahead. In fact, when I left France, I had more faith in the future of the black man in America than ever before.

From Paris we went to London, and reached there early in July, just about the height of the London social season. Parliament was in session, and there was a great deal of gaiety. Mr. Garrison and other friends had provided us with a large number of letters of introduction, and they had also sent letters to other persons in different parts of the United Kingdom, apprising these people of our coming. Very soon after reaching London we were flooded with invitations to attend all manner of social functions, and a great many invitations came to me asking that I deliver public addresses. The most of these invitations I declined, for the reason that I wanted to rest. Neither were we able to accept more than a small proportion of the other invitations. The Rev. Dr. Brooke Herford and Mrs. Herford, whom I had known in Boston, consulted with the American Ambassador, the Hon. Joseph Choate, and arranged for me to speak at a public meeting to be held in Essex Hall. Mr. Choate kindly consented to preside. The meeting was largely attended. There were many distinguished persons present, among them several members of Parliament, including Mr. James Bryce, who spoke at the meeting. What the American Ambassador said in introducing me, as well as a synopsis of what I said, was widely published in England and in the American papers at the time. Dr. and Mrs. Herford gave Mrs. Washington and myself a reception, at which we had the privilege of meeting some of the best people in England. Throughout our stay in London Ambassador Choate was most kind and attentive to us. At the Ambassador’s reception I met, for the first time, Mark Twain.

From Paris we went to London, arriving early in July, near the height of the London social season. Parliament was in session, and there was a great deal of festivity. Mr. Garrison and other friends had given us many letters of introduction. They had also written to people in other parts of the United Kingdom to let them know we were coming. Soon after we reached London, we were flooded with invitations to all kinds of social events. I also received many invitations to give public speeches. I declined most of the speaking invitations because I wanted to rest. We could accept only a small share of the other invitations. The Rev. Dr. Brooke Herford and Mrs. Herford, whom I had known in Boston, consulted the American Ambassador, the Hon. Joseph Choate. They arranged for me to speak at a public meeting at Essex Hall. Mr. Choate kindly agreed to preside. The meeting was well attended. Many distinguished people were there, including several members of Parliament. Among them was Mr. James Bryce, who spoke at the meeting. The American Ambassador’s introduction and a summary of my speech were widely published in England and in American newspapers at the time. Dr. and Mrs. Herford gave a reception for Mrs. Washington and me. There we had the privilege of meeting some of the best people in England. Throughout our stay in London, Ambassador Choate was very kind and attentive to us. At the Ambassador’s reception, I met Mark Twain for the first time.

We were the guests several times of Mrs. T. Fisher Unwin, the daughter of the English statesman, Richard Cobden. It seemed as if both Mr. and Mrs. Unwin could not do enough for our comfort and happiness. Later, for nearly a week, we were the guests of the daughter of John Bright, now Mrs. Clark, of Street, England. Both Mr. and Mrs. Clark, with their daughter, visited us at Tuskegee the next year. In Birmingham, England, we were the guests for several days of Mr. Joseph Sturge, whose father was a great abolitionist and friend of Whittier and Garrison. It was a great privilege to meet throughout England those who had known and honoured the late William Lloyd Garrison, the Hon. Frederick Douglass, and other abolitionists. The English abolitionists with whom we came in contact never seemed to tire of talking about these two Americans. Before going to England I had had no proper conception of the deep interest displayed by the abolitionists of England in the cause of freedom, nor did I realize the amount of substantial help given by them.

We stayed several times with Mrs. T. Fisher Unwin, the daughter of the English statesman Richard Cobden. It seemed as if Mr. and Mrs. Unwin could not do enough to make us comfortable and happy. Later, we spent nearly a week with John Bright’s daughter, now Mrs. Clark, in Street, England. Mr. and Mrs. Clark and their daughter visited us at Tuskegee the next year. In Birmingham, England, we stayed for several days with Mr. Joseph Sturge. His father was a great abolitionist and a friend of Whittier and Garrison. It was a great privilege to meet people throughout England who had known and honored the late William Lloyd Garrison, the Hon. Frederick Douglass, and other abolitionists. The English abolitionists we met never seemed to tire of talking about Garrison and Douglass. Before going to England, I had not fully understood how deeply English abolitionists cared about the cause of freedom. Nor had I realized how much practical help they had given.

In Bristol, England, both Mrs. Washington and I spoke at the Women’s Liberal Club. I was also the principal speaker at the Commencement exercises of the Royal College for the Blind. These exercises were held in the Crystal Palace, and the presiding officer was the late Duke of Westminster, who was said to be, I believe, the richest man in England, if not in the world. The Duke, as well as his wife and their daughter, seemed to be pleased with what I said, and thanked me heartily. Through the kindness of Lady Aberdeen, my wife and I were enabled to go with a party of those who were attending the International Congress of Women, then in session in London, to see Queen Victoria, at Windsor Castle, where, afterward, we were all the guests of her Majesty at tea. In our party was Miss Susan B. Anthony, and I was deeply impressed with the fact that one did not often get an opportunity to see, during the same hour, two women so remarkable in different ways as Susan B. Anthony and Queen Victoria.

In Bristol, England, both Mrs. Washington and I spoke at the Women’s Liberal Club. I was also the main speaker at the graduation ceremony of the Royal College for the Blind. The ceremony was held at the Crystal Palace, and the late Duke of Westminster presided. He was said to be, I believe, the richest man in England, if not in the world. The Duke, his wife, and their daughter seemed pleased with what I said and thanked me warmly. Thanks to Lady Aberdeen’s kindness, my wife and I joined a group visiting Queen Victoria at Windsor Castle. The group was attending the International Congress of Women, which was then meeting in London. Afterward, we were all guests of Her Majesty for tea at the castle. Miss Susan B. Anthony was in our group. I was deeply impressed by how rare an opportunity it was to see two such remarkable women in the same hour. Susan B. Anthony and Queen Victoria were remarkable in different ways.

In the House of Commons, which we visited several times, we met Sir Henry M. Stanley. I talked with him about Africa and its relation to the American Negro, and after my interview with him I became more convinced than ever that there was no hope of the American Negro’s improving his condition by emigrating to Africa.

We visited the House of Commons several times, and there we met Sir Henry M. Stanley. I talked with him about Africa and its relationship to African Americans. After our conversation, I was more convinced than ever that African Americans had no hope of improving their condition by moving to Africa.

On various occasions Mrs. Washington and I were the guests of Englishmen in their country homes, where, I think, one sees the Englishman at his best. In one thing, at least, I feel sure that the English are ahead of Americans, and that is, that they have learned how to get more out of life. The home life of the English seems to me to be about as perfect as anything can be. Everything moves like clockwork. I was impressed, too, with the deference that the servants show to their “masters” and “mistresses,”—terms which I suppose would not be tolerated in America. The English servant expects, as a rule, to be nothing but a servant, and so he perfects himself in the art to a degree that no class of servants in America has yet reached. In our country the servant expects to become, in a few years, a “master” himself. Which system is preferable? I will not venture an answer.

On several occasions, Mrs. Washington and I stayed as guests in Englishmen’s country homes. I think that is where one sees the Englishman at his best. I feel sure that the English are ahead of Americans in at least one respect: they have learned to get more out of life. English home life seems to me about as perfect as anything can be. Everything runs like clockwork. I was also impressed by the respect servants show their “masters” and “mistresses.” I suppose those terms would not be tolerated in America. As a rule, an English servant expects to remain a servant. So he masters the art of service to a degree that no class of servants in America has yet reached. In our country, a servant expects to become a “master” himself in a few years. Which system is better? I will not venture an answer.

Another thing that impressed itself upon me throughout England was the high regard that all classes have for law and order, and the ease and thoroughness with which everything is done. The Englishmen, I found, took plenty of time for eating, as for everything else. I am not sure if, in the long run, they do not accomplish as much or more than rushing, nervous Americans do.

Another thing that impressed me throughout England was how much people of all classes respected law and order. I was also impressed by how easily and thoroughly everything was done. I found that Englishmen took plenty of time to eat, just as they did with everything else. I wonder whether, in the long run, they accomplish as much as or more than hurried, nervous Americans do.

My visit to England gave me a higher regard for the nobility than I had had. I had no idea that they were so generally loved and respected by the classes, nor had I any correct conception of how much time and money they spent in works of philanthropy, and how much real heart they put into this work. My impression had been that they merely spent money freely and had a “good time.”

My visit to England gave me a higher opinion of the nobility than I had before. I had no idea they were so widely loved and respected by people of all classes. I also had not understood how much time and money they devoted to charity, or how much genuine care they put into it. I had thought they simply spent money freely and had a “good time.”

It was hard for me to get accustomed to speaking to English audiences. The average Englishman is so serious, and is so tremendously in earnest about everything, that when I told a story that would have made an American audience roar with laughter, the Englishmen simply looked me straight in the face without even cracking a smile.

It was hard for me to get used to speaking to English audiences. The average Englishman is so serious and takes everything so much to heart. When I told a story that would have made an American audience roar with laughter, the Englishmen simply looked me straight in the face without even smiling.

When the Englishman takes you into his heart and friendship, he binds you there as with cords of steel, and I do not believe that there are many other friendships that are so lasting or so satisfactory. Perhaps I can illustrate this point in no better way than by relating the following incident. Mrs. Washington and I were invited to attend a reception given by the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland, at Stafford House—said to be the finest house in London; I may add that I believe the Duchess of Sutherland is said to be the most beautiful woman in England. There must have been at least three hundred persons at this reception. Twice during the evening the Duchess sought us out for a conversation, and she asked me to write her when we got home, and tell her more about the work at Tuskegee. This I did. When Christmas came we were surprised and delighted to receive her photograph with her autograph on it. The correspondence has continued, and we now feel that in the Duchess of Sutherland we have one of our warmest friends.

When an Englishman takes you into his heart and offers you his friendship, he binds you there as if with steel cords. I do not believe that many other friendships last so long or are so satisfying. Perhaps the best way to illustrate this is to tell what happened on one occasion. Mrs. Washington and I were invited to a reception given by the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland at Stafford House. It was said to be the finest house in London. I believe the Duchess of Sutherland is said to be the most beautiful woman in England. There must have been at least three hundred people at the reception. Twice during the evening, the Duchess sought us out to talk. She asked me to write to her when we got home and tell her more about the work at Tuskegee. I did so. At Christmas, we were surprised and delighted to receive her photograph with her autograph on it. We have continued to write to each other, and we now feel that the Duchess of Sutherland is one of our warmest friends.

After three months in Europe we sailed from Southampton in the steamship St. Louis. On this steamer there was a fine library that had been presented to the ship by the citizens of St. Louis, Mo. In this library I found a life of Frederick Douglass, which I began reading. I became especially interested in Mr. Douglass’s description of the way he was treated on shipboard during his first or second visit to England. In this description he told how he was not permitted to enter the cabin, but had to confine himself to the deck of the ship. A few minutes after I had finished reading this description I was waited on by a committee of ladies and gentlemen with the request that I deliver an address at a concert which was to begin the following evening. And yet there are people who are bold enough to say that race feeling in America is not growing less intense! At this concert the Hon. Benjamin B. Odell, Jr., the present governor of New York, presided. I was never given a more cordial hearing anywhere. A large proportion of the passengers were Southern people. After the concert some of the passengers proposed that a subscription be raised to help the work at Tuskegee, and the money to support several scholarships was the result.

After three months in Europe, we sailed from Southampton on the steamship St. Louis. The ship had a fine library, a gift from the citizens of St. Louis, Mo. There I found a biography of Frederick Douglass and began reading it. I was especially interested in Douglass’s account of his treatment on board a ship during his first or second visit to England. He described how he was not allowed into the cabin and had to stay on deck. A few minutes after I finished reading this account, a committee of ladies and gentlemen came to see me. They asked me to give a speech at a concert that would begin the following evening. And yet some people are bold enough to say that racial prejudice in America is not growing less intense! The Hon. Benjamin B. Odell, Jr., the current governor of New York, presided at the concert. Nowhere had I ever received a warmer welcome from an audience. A large proportion of the passengers were Southern people. After the concert, some passengers proposed collecting donations to help the work at Tuskegee. The collection raised enough money to support several scholarships.

While we were in Paris I was very pleasantly surprised to receive the following invitation from the citizens of West Virginia and of the city near which I had spent my boyhood days:—

While we were in Paris, I was pleasantly surprised to receive the following invitation. It came from the citizens of West Virginia and of the city near where I had spent my boyhood:

Charleston, W. Va., May 16, 1899.

Charleston, West Virginia, May 16, 1899.

Professor Booker T. Washington, Paris, France:

Professor Booker T. Washington, Paris, France:

Dear Sir: Many of the best citizens of West Virginia have united in liberal expressions of admiration and praise of your worth and work, and desire that on your return from Europe you should favour them with your presence and with the inspiration of your words. We must sincerely indorse this move, and on behalf of the citizens of Charleston extend to your our most cordial invitation to have you come to us, that we may honour you who have done so much by your life and work to honour us.

Dear Sir: Many of West Virginia’s finest citizens have expressed great admiration and praise for you and your work. They hope you will visit them when you return from Europe and inspire them with your words. We sincerely support this request. On behalf of the citizens of Charleston, we warmly invite you to visit us. We want to honor you, whose life and work have done so much to honor us.

We are,

We are,

Very truly yours,

Sincerely,

The Common Council of the City of Charleston,

The Common Council of the City of Charleston,

By W. Herman Smith, Mayor.

By W. Herman Smith, Mayor.

This invitation from the City Council of Charleston was accompanied by the following:—

The invitation from the Charleston City Council came with the following:

Professor Booker T. Washington, Paris, France:

Professor Booker T. Washington, Paris, France:

Dear Sir: We, the citizens of Charleston and West Virginia, desire to express our pride in you and the splendid career that you have thus far accomplished, and ask that we be permitted to show our pride and interest in a substantial way.

Dear Sir: We, the citizens of Charleston and West Virginia, want to express our pride in you and your remarkable career so far. We ask to be allowed to show our pride and interest in a meaningful way.

Your recent visit to your old home in our midst awoke within us the keenest regret that we were not permitted to hear you and render some substantial aid to your work, before you left for Europe.

Your recent visit to your old home here made us deeply regret that we were not allowed to hear you speak or give substantial support to your work before you left for Europe.

In view of the foregoing, we earnestly invite you to share the hospitality of our city upon your return from Europe, and give us the opportunity to hear you and put ourselves in touch with your work in a way that will be most gratifying to yourself, and that we may receive the inspiration of your words and presence.

In light of what we have said, we warmly invite you to visit our city when you return from Europe. We hope you will let us welcome you and give us a chance to hear you. We also hope to connect with your work in a way that will be deeply rewarding to you. And we hope to be inspired by your words and presence.

An early reply to this invitation, with an indication of the time you may reach our city, will greatly oblige,

We would appreciate an early reply to this invitation, letting us know when you may arrive in our city,

Yours very respectfully,

Respectfully yours,

The Charleston Daily Gazette, The Daily Mail-Tribune; G.W. Atkinson, Governor; E.L. Boggs, Secretary to Governor; Wm. M.O. Dawson, Secretary of State; L.M. La Follette, Auditor; J.R. Trotter, Superintendent of Schools; E.W. Wilson, ex-Governor; W.A. MacCorkle, ex-Governor; John Q. Dickinson, President Kanawha Valley Bank; L. Prichard, President Charleston National Bank; Geo. S. Couch, President Kanawha National Bank; Ed. Reid, Cashier Kanawha National Bank; Geo. S. Laidley, Superintended City Schools; L.E. McWhorter, President Board of Education; Chas. K. Payne, wholesale merchant; and many others.

The Charleston Daily Gazette. The Daily Mail-Tribune. G.W. Atkinson, Governor. E.L. Boggs, Secretary to the Governor. Wm. M.O. Dawson, Secretary of State. L.M. La Follette, Auditor. J.R. Trotter, Superintendent of Schools. E.W. Wilson, former Governor. W.A. MacCorkle, former Governor. John Q. Dickinson, President of Kanawha Valley Bank. L. Prichard, President of Charleston National Bank. Geo. S. Couch, President of Kanawha National Bank. Ed. Reid, Cashier of Kanawha National Bank. Geo. S. Laidley, Superintendent of City Schools. L.E. McWhorter, President of the Board of Education. Chas. K. Payne, wholesale merchant. And many others.

This invitation, coming as it did from the City Council, the state officers, and all the substantial citizens of both races of the community where I had spent my boyhood, and from which I had gone a few years before, unknown, in poverty and ignorance, in quest of an education, not only surprised me, but almost unmanned me. I could not understand what I had done to deserve it all.

The invitation came from the City Council, state officials, and all the respected citizens of both races in the community where I had spent my boyhood. Only a few years earlier, I had left that community to seek an education. I was unknown, poor, and uneducated. The invitation not only surprised me but nearly overwhelmed me. I could not understand what I had done to deserve it all.

I accepted the invitation, and at the appointed day was met at the railway station at Charleston by a committee headed by ex-Governor W.A. MacCorkle, and composed of men of both races. The public reception was held in the Opera-House at Charleston. The Governor of the state, the Hon. George W. Atkinson, presided, and an address of welcome was made by ex-Governor MacCorkle. A prominent part in the reception was taken by the coloured citizens. The Opera-House was filled with citizens of both races, and among the white people were many for whom I had worked when I was a boy. The next day Governor and Mrs. Atkinson gave me a public reception at the State House, which was attended by all classes.

I accepted the invitation. On the appointed day, a committee met me at the railway station in Charleston. Former Governor W.A. MacCorkle headed the committee, which included men of both races. The public reception was held at the Opera-House in Charleston. The state’s Governor, the Hon. George W. Atkinson, presided, and former Governor MacCorkle gave a welcome speech. Black citizens played a prominent part in the reception. The Opera-House was filled with citizens of both races. Among the white people were many for whom I had worked as a boy. The next day, Governor and Mrs. Atkinson gave me a public reception at the State House. People from all classes attended.

Not long after this the coloured people in Atlanta, Georgia, gave me a reception at which the Governor of the state presided, and a similar reception was given me in New Orleans, which was presided over by the Mayor of the city. Invitations came from many other places which I was not able to accept.

Not long afterward, Black people in Atlanta, Georgia, held a reception for me. The state’s governor presided over it. A similar reception was held for me in New Orleans, with the city’s mayor presiding. I received invitations from many other places, but I could not accept them.