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Chapter IX. Anxious Days And Sleepless Nights
The coming of Christmas, that first year of our residence in
Alabama, gave us an opportunity to get a farther insight into the
real life of the people. The first thing that reminded us that
Christmas had arrived was the "foreday" visits of scores of
children rapping at our doors, asking for "Chris'mus gifts!
Chris'mus gifts!" Between the hours of two o'clock and five
o'clock in the morning I presume that we must have had a
half-hundred such calls. This custom prevails throughout this
portion of the South to-day.
During the days of slavery it was a custom quite generally
observed throughout all the Southern states to give the coloured
people a week of holiday at Christmas, or to allow the holiday to
continue as long as the "yule log" lasted. The male members of
the race, and often the female members, were expected to get
drunk. We found that for a whole week the coloured people in and
around Tuskegee dropped work the day before Christmas, and that
it was difficult for any one to perform any service from the time
they stopped work until after the New Year. Persons who at other
times did not use strong drink thought it quite the proper thing
to indulge in it rather freely during the Christmas week. There
was a widespread hilarity, and a free use of guns, pistols, and
gunpowder generally. The sacredness of the season seemed to have
been almost wholly lost sight of.
During this first Christmas vacation I went some distance from
the town to visit the people on one of the large plantations. In
their poverty and ignorance it was pathetic to see their attempts
to get joy out of the season that in most parts of the country is
so sacred and so dear to the heart. In one cabin I notice that
all that the five children had to remind them of the coming of
Christ was a single bunch of firecrackers, which they had divided
among them. In another cabin, where there were at least a
half-dozen persons, they had only ten cents' worth of
ginger-cakes, which had been bought in the store the day before.
In another family they had only a few pieces of sugarcane. In
still another cabin I found nothing but a new jug of cheap, mean
whiskey, which the husband and wife were making free use of,
notwithstanding the fact that the husband was one of the local
ministers. In a few instances I found that the people had gotten
hold of some bright-coloured cards that had been designed for
advertising purposes, and were making the most of these. In other
homes some member of the family had bought a new pistol. In the
majority of cases there was nothing to be seen in the cabin to
remind one of the coming of the Saviour, except that the people
had ceased work in the fields and were lounging about their
homes. At night, during Christmas week, they usually had what
they called a "frolic," in some cabin on the plantation. That
meant a kind of rough dance, where there was likely to be a good
deal of whiskey used, and where there might be some shooting or
cutting with razors.
While I was making this Christmas visit I met an old coloured man
who was one of the numerous local preachers, who tried to
convince me, from the experience Adam had in the Garden of Eden,
that God had cursed all labour, and that, therefore, it was a sin
for any man to work. For that reason this man sought to do as
little work as possible. He seemed at that time to be supremely
happy, because he was living, as he expressed it, through one
week that was free from sin.
In the school we made a special effort to teach our students the
meaning of Christmas, and to give them lessons in its proper
observance. In this we have been successful to a degree that
makes me feel safe in saying that the season now has a new
meaning, not only through all that immediate region, but, in a
measure, wherever our graduates have gone.
At the present time one of the most satisfactory features of the
Christmas and Thanksgiving season at Tuskegee is the unselfish
and beautiful way in which our graduates and students spend their
time in administering to the comfort and happiness of others,
especially the unfortunate. Not long ago some of our young men
spent a holiday in rebuilding a cabin for a helpless coloured
women who was about seventy-five years old. At another time I
remember that I made it known in chapel, one night, that a very
poor student was suffering from cold, because he needed a coat.
The next morning two coats were sent to my office for him.
I have referred to the disposition on the part of the white
people in the town of Tuskegee and vicinity to help the school.
From the first, I resolved to make the school a real part of the
community in which it was located. I was determined that no one
should have the feeling that it was a foreign institution,
dropped down in the midst of the people, for which they had no
responsibility and in which they had no interest. I noticed that
the very fact that they had been asking to contribute toward the
purchase of the land made them begin to feel as if it was going
to be their school, to a large degree. I noted that just in
proportion as we made the white people feel that the institution
was a part of the life of the community, and that, while we
wanted to make friends in Boston, for example, we also wanted to
make white friends in Tuskegee, and that we wanted to make the
school of real service to all the people, their attitude toward
the school became favourable.
Perhaps I might add right here, what I hope to demonstrate later,
that, so far as I know, the Tuskegee school at the present time
has no warmer and more enthusiastic friends anywhere than it has
among the white citizens of Tuskegee and throughout the state of
Alabama and the entire South. From the first, I have advised our
people in the South to make friends in every straightforward,
manly way with their next-door neighbour, whether he be a black
man or a white man. I have also advised them, where no principle
is at stake, to consult the interests of their local communities,
and to advise with their friends in regard to their voting.
For several months the work of securing the money with which to
pay for the farm went on without ceasing. At the end of three
months enough was secured to repay the loan of two hundred and
fifty dollars to General Marshall, and within two months more we
had secured the entire five hundred dollars and had received a
deed of the one hundred acres of land. This gave us a great deal
of satisfaction. It was not only a source of satisfaction to
secure a permanent location for the school, but it was equally
satisfactory to know that the greater part of the money with
which it was paid for had been gotten from the white and coloured
people in the town of Tuskegee. The most of this money was
obtained by holding festivals and concerts, and from small
individual donations.
Our next effort was in the direction of increasing the
cultivation of the land, so as to secure some return from it, and
at the same time give the students training in agriculture. All
the industries at Tuskegee have been started in natural and
logical order, growing out of the needs of a community
settlement. We began with farming, because we wanted something to
eat.
Many of the students, also, were able to remain in school but a
few weeks at a time, because they had so little money with which
to pay their board. Thus another object which made it desirable
to get an industrial system started was in order to make in
available as a means of helping the students to earn money enough
so that they might be able to remain in school during the nine
months' session of the school year.
The first animal that the school came into possession of was an
old blind horse given us by one of the white citizens of
Tuskegee. Perhaps I may add here that at the present time the
school owns over two hundred horses, colts, mules, cows, calves,
and oxen, and about seven hundred hogs and pigs, as well as a
large number of sheep and goats.
The school was constantly growing in numbers, so much so that,
after we had got the farm paid for, the cultivation of the land
begun, and the old cabins which we had found on the place
somewhat repaired, we turned our attention toward providing a
large, substantial building. After having given a good deal of
thought to the subject, we finally had the plans drawn for a
building that was estimated to cost about six thousand dollars.
This seemed to us a tremendous sum, but we knew that the school
must go backward or forward, and that our work would mean little
unless we could get hold of the students in their home life.
One incident which occurred about this time gave me a great deal
of satisfaction as well as surprise. When it became known in the
town that we were discussing the plans for a new, large building,
a Southern white man who was operating a sawmill not far from
Tuskegee came to me and said that he would gladly put all the
lumber necessary to erect the building on the grounds, with no
other guarantee for payment than my word that it would be paid
for when we secured some money. I told the man frankly that at
the time we did not have in our hands one dollar of the money
needed. Notwithstanding this, he insisted on being allowed to put
the lumber on the grounds. After we had secured some portion of
the money we permitted him to do this.
Miss Davidson again began the work of securing in various ways
small contributions for the new building from the white and
coloured people in and near Tuskegee. I think I never saw a
community of people so happy over anything as were the coloured
people over the prospect of this new building. One day, when we
were holding a meeting to secure funds for its erection, an old,
ante-bellum coloured man came a distance of twelve miles and
brought in his ox-cart a large hog. When the meeting was in
progress, he rose in the midst of the company and said that he
had no money which he could give, but he had raised two fine
hogs, and that he had brought one of them as a contribution
toward the expenses of the building. He closed his announcement
by saying: "Any nigger that's got any love for his race, or any
respect for himself, will bring a hog to the next meeting." Quite
a number of men in the community also volunteered to give several
days' work, each, toward the erection of the building.
After we had secured all the help that we could in Tuskegee, Miss
Davidson decided to go North for the purpose of securing
additional funds. For weeks she visited individuals and spoke in
churches and before Sunday schools and other organizations. She
found this work quite trying, and often embarrassing. The school
was not known, but she was not long in winning her way into the
confidence of the best people in the North.
The first gift from any Northern person was received from a New
York lady whom Miss Davidson met on the boat that was bringing
her North. They fell into a conversation, and the Northern lady
became so much interested in the effort being made at Tuskegee
that before they parted Miss Davidson was handed a check for
fifty dollars. For some time before our marriage, and also after
it, Miss Davidson kept up the work of securing money in the North
and in the South by interesting people by personal visits and
through correspondence. At the same time she kept in close touch
with the work at Tuskegee, as lady principal and classroom
teacher. In addition to this, she worked among the older people
in and near Tuskegee, and taught a Sunday school class in the
town. She was never very strong, but never seemed happy unless
she was giving all of her strength to the cause which she loved.
Often, at night, after spending the day in going from door to
door trying to interest persons in the work at Tuskegee, she
would be so exhausted that she could not undress herself. A lady
upon whom she called, in Boston, afterward told me that at one
time when Miss Davidson called her to see and send up her card
the lady was detained a little before she could see Miss
Davidson, and when she entered the parlour she found Miss
Davidson so exhausted that she had fallen asleep.
While putting up our first building, which was named Porter Hall,
after Mr. A.H. Porter, of Brooklyn, N.Y., who gave a generous sum
toward its erection, the need for money became acute. I had given
one of our creditors a promise that upon a certain day he should
be paid four hundred dollars. On the morning of that day we did
not have a dollar. The mail arrived at the school at ten o'clock,
and in this mail there was a check sent by Miss Davidson for
exactly four hundred dollars. I could relate many instances of
almost the same character. This four hundred dollars was given by
two ladies in Boston. Two years later, when the work at Tuskegee
had grown considerably, and when we were in the midst of a season
when we were so much in need of money that the future looked
doubtful and gloomy, the same two Boston ladies sent us six
thousand dollars. Words cannot describe our surprise, or the
encouragement that the gift brought to us. Perhaps I might add
here that for fourteen years these same friends have sent us six
thousand dollars a year.
As soon as the plans were drawn for the new building, the
students began digging out the earth where the foundations were
to be laid, working after the regular classes were over. They had
not fully outgrown the idea that it was hardly the proper thing
for them to use their hands, since they had come there, as one of
them expressed it, "to be educated, and not to work." Gradually,
though, I noted with satisfaction that a sentiment in favour of
work was gaining ground. After a few weeks of hard work the
foundations were ready, and a day was appointed for the laying of
the corner-stone.
When it is considered that the laying of this corner-stone took
place in the heart of the South, in the "Black Belt," in the
centre of that part of our country that was most devoted to
slavery; that at that time slavery had been abolished only about
sixteen years; that only sixteen years before no Negro could be
taught from books without the teacher receiving the condemnation
of the law or of public sentiment--when all this is considered,
the scene that was witnessed on that spring day at Tuskegee was a
remarkable one. I believe there are few places in the world where
it could have taken place.
The principal address was delivered by the Hon. Waddy Thompson,
the Superintendent of Education for the county. About the
corner-stone were gathered the teachers, the students, their
parents and friends, the county officials--who were white--and
all the leading white men in that vicinity, together with many of
the black men and women whom the same white people but a few
years before had held a title to as property. The members of both
races were anxious to exercise the privilege of placing under the
corner-stone some momento.
Before the building was completed we passed through some very
trying seasons. More than once our hearts were made to bleed, as
it were, because bills were falling due that we did not have the
money to meet. Perhaps no one who has not gone through the
experience, month after month, of trying to erect buildings and
provide equipment for a school when no one knew where the money
was to come from, can properly appreciate the difficulties under
which we laboured. During the first years at Tuskegee I recall
that night after night I would roll and toss on my bed, without
sleep, because of the anxiety and uncertainty which we were in
regarding money. I knew that, in a large degree, we were trying
an experiment--that of testing whether or not it was possible for
Negroes to build up and control the affairs of a large education
institution. I knew that if we failed it would injure the whole
race. I knew that the presumption was against us. I knew that in
the case of white people beginning such an enterprise it would be
taken for granted that they were going to succeed, but in our
case I felt that people would be surprised if we succeeded. All
this made a burden which pressed down on us, sometimes, it
seemed, at the rate of a thousand pounds to the square inch.
In all our difficulties and anxieties, however, I never went to a
white or a black person in the town of Tuskegee for any
assistance that was in their power to render, without being
helped according to their means. More than a dozen times, when
bills figuring up into the hundreds of dollars were falling due,
I applied to the white men of Tuskegee for small loans, often
borrowing small amounts from as many as a half-dozen persons, to
meet our obligations. One thing I was determined to do from the
first, and that was to keep the credit of the school high; and
this, I think I can say without boasting, we have done all
through these years.
I shall always remember a bit of advice given me by Mr. George W.
Campbell, the white man to whom I have referred to as the one who
induced General Armstrong to send me to Tuskegee. Soon after I
entered upon the work Mr. Campbell said to me, in his fatherly
way: "Washington, always remember that credit is capital."
At one time when we were in the greatest distress for money that
we ever experienced, I placed the situation frankly before
General Armstrong. Without hesitation he gave me his personal
check for all the money which he had saved for his own use. This
was not the only time that General Armstrong helped Tuskegee in
this way. I do not think I have ever made this fact public
before.
During the summer of 1882, at the end of the first year's work of
the school, I was married to Miss Fannie N. Smith, of Malden, W.
Va. We began keeping house in Tuskegee early in the fall. This
made a home for our teachers, who now had been increase to four
in number. My wife was also a graduate of the Hampton Institute.
After earnest and constant work in the interests of the school,
together with her housekeeping duties, my wife passed away in
May, 1884. One child, Portia M. Washington, was born during our
marriage.
From the first, my wife most earnestly devoted her thoughts and
time to the work of the school, and was completely one with me in
every interest and ambition. She passed away, however, before she
had an opportunity of seeing what the school was designed to be.
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