[n.b. - page numbers refer to printed text. Available at https://archive.org/details/blackmansburden0000will ]

CHAPTER III 


But my most vivid recollections are of Dr. Washing- 
ton as he appeared to me in those days. He was at that 
time a young man, about thirty-five years old. He was 
not in any way striking in appearance, but there was a 
peculiarity about him that I could not understand then, 
nor can I understand it now. I was for a time his office 
boy, and I tried hard to understand him, so as to be able 
to please him. After considerable time in his office I 
learned to know his ways pretty well. At any rate, when 
I was ready to leave the office to go into other depart- 
ments of the school he seemed really grieved. 

Tuskegee was a crude place at that time, compared to 
what it has become since. There were no local tele- 
phones, so that when a message was to be delivered from 
one part of the campus to another, sometimes a distance 
of a quarter of a mile, it had to be sent by the office boy. 
Mr. Washington used to remark at times, where I feel 
sure he thought I could hear him, that I was the only boy 
he had found who could deliver a message quickly enough 
for him. This was one of his methods of encouraging 
boys, and it certainly did encourage me; for when I car- 
ried a message, after hearing a remark like that from 
Mr. Washington, I always ran the whole distance to my 
destination and back. 


One thing about Mr. Washington that impressed me 


44 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 


was his regularity. He was as regular as the clock. He 
appeared at his office in the morning exactly at eight 
o’clock, remained until twelve, very often took part in an 
Executive Council meeting until one, and then went to 
lunch. At two o’clock he would again be in his office and 
would invariably remain there until half-past four, when 
he would leave and tramp across the plantation; some- 
times he would run for a mile or two, as fast as he could 
go, for exercise. When he returned he would go to his 
library and there would pass the time until six, when he 
would go to dinner. After dinner he played with the 
children for a while and then returned to his library until 
8:40. He would then go to Chapel for evening prayers 
with the whole student body. This prayer service was 
one that Mr. Washington seldom ever missed and he al- 
ways appeared on the rostrum exactly on the minute. 

Mr. Washington had a grasp of the details of the work 
of Tuskegee that seemed almost incredible. I remember 
one evening that I was startled to hear my name, to- 
gether with that of one of my friends, called out by Mr. 
Washington from the chapel platform. He simply said, 
“William Holtzclaw and Charles Washington may rise.” 
I was so weak in my knees that I could scarcely stand, 
but I knew nothing else to do but to rise at the command 
of that voice. After we stood up and the whole school 
was looking at us, Mr. Washington simply said: “These 
young men may pass out of the Chapel and go and pick 
up the tools they worked with to-day.” We had been 
ditching and when the work-bell rang had left our tools 
where we were working, when they should have been 
carried to the tool-house. 


THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 45 


If the water main, or water pipe, had a defect in it so 
that it was leaking anywhere on the grounds, Mr. Wash- 
ington was almost sure to see that something was wrong 
and to call the matter to the attention of the Superin- 
tendent of Industries. 

If he came into the dining-room while the students 
were eating their meals, he would notice such small de- 
tails as a student’s pouring out more molasses on his 
plate than he could eat and would stop in the dining- 
room, send for the matron, have some bread brought to 
the student, and wait until that student had eaten all the 
molasses he had poured on his plate. 

If one walked about the campus at night, he would be 
sure to meet Mr. Washington almost anywhere on the 
grounds. For instance, he might be found in the kitchen 
at two o’clock in the morning examining the method of 
preparing the students’ breakfast. He seldom seemed to 
me to take sufficient rest for an average man. 

One thing that impressed me very much in regard to 
Mr. Washington’s character was the way he could con- 
centrate his mind on a subject. It seemed that when he 
was thinking about one thing everything else left him. 
He was often completely oblivious of his surroundings. 

One night he came to my room and, calling me, told me 
to go to the barn and get him a horse and buggy at once; 
he went so far as to tell me that some legal matters had 
to be attended to. This was about ten o’clock. Ina few 
minutes I had the horse and buggy at his door and drove 
him down to the town of Tuskegee, a mile away, to the 
office of a lawyer. After about an hour he came out of 
the office to the buggy, where I was holding the horse, 


46 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 


and told me he would not have finished his business with 
the lawyer for a couple of hours, and if I cared to, I 
could leave the horse and buggy there and walk back to 
school, and he would bring them when he came. This 
I did, while he proceeded with his conference with the 
lawyer. At two o'clock in the morning he knocked again 
on my door and, handing me a half dollar, asked if I 
would not go back down town and get the horse and 
buggy, as he had come away and forgotten them. 

More than once when Dr. Washington would be dic- 
tating some very important letter to his stenographer he 
would stop for a few minutes to think seriously about 
some phase of the matter under consideration, when he 
would become so oblivious of what was going on that 
he would forget the existence of the stenographer, and 
would ring for me, his office boy, and tell me to send in 
the very stenographer that was then before him. 

In matters of dress Mr. Washington was exceedingly 
scrupulous. He never wore any superfluous clothes, 
never used a cane in walking, nor did he cumber himself 
with anything that could with decency be dispensed with, 
but he would never wear any garment that was not im- 
maculately clean. He changed his clothes often, and was 
always very careful to keep his top clothes pressed prop- 
erly. 

We students all loved him. We would do anything for 
him. As an illustration of our confidence in Mr. Wash- 
ington, I recall that in 1898, when I was a member of 
the senior class, the chaplain of the 9th Cavalry, then 
preparing to go to the Spanish-American war in Cuba, 
came by the school to get recruits. This chaplain,— 


THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 47 


with the rank of captain, I believe,—addressed the young 
men in the chapel on the subject of joining the 9th Cav- 
alry, and he asked Mr. Washington to say a few words. 
Mr. Washington, of course, was too wise to advise any 
of the young men to go to war, but he spoke of patriot- 
ism and of duty to one’s country in a general way, and 
left the impression that it would be a good thing for those 
who felt like doing so to join the 9th Cavalry. When 
the meeting was over, however, a great many of us were 
confused. We could not decide within ourselves whether 
Mr. Washington really meant for us to go to war or not, 
so we called a meeting and discussed among ourselves 
whether or not Mr. Washington wished us to go to war, 
and every boy in the house seemed to be of one mind, 
and that was that Mr. Washington really meant what he 
had said in his talk, and that if he desired us to go and 
join the 9th Cavalry, we were all ready to go. For my- 
self, I was already convinced that Mr. Washington de- 
sired that some of us should go, and so I was ready to go 
and did go to the recruiting office in the town the next 
day and offered myself as a recruit, but I had been in the 
school eight years and my health was so poor that I could 
not pass the examination; therefore I did not have the 
pleasure of joining the 9th Cavalry. It was more a de- 
sire to please Mr. Washington, however, than patriotism 
that caused me to try to join. So anxious was I to do 
what I thought was Mr. Washington’s wish that after I 
had graduated, a few months later, I went to Whites- 
burg, Ga., and raised a company of my own in the hope 
of getting it through to Cuba, but before it was drilled 
into shape the war came to a close. 


48 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 


This all goes to show what a grip Mr. Washington 
had on his students, and he had the same influence over 
the young women that he had over the young men. He 
was always kind and considerate. If he scolded you and 
you took offence at it, he would laugh at you. I have 
seen him administer some severe verbal punishments to 
students, but I never saw him in all my stay at Tuskegee 
become angry with any of the students, though I have 
often seen him try to make students believe that he was 
angry. 

I have come in contact with Mr. Washington con- 
stantly since those years, even until the present time, and 
I have seen very little change in him. His character, as 
it manifested itself in those days, remains the same, so 
far as I am able to see. If he becomes excited at any 
time, it is always when other people are quiet, and when 
other people are excited Mr. Washington is always quiet. 
Taken all in all, I have never seen another man who im- 
pressed me in the same way that Mr. Washington does. 

Tuskegee was not so large as it is now, and one man, 
Mr. C. W. Green, had charge of the farm, brick-yard, 
truck gardening, stock raising, and several other similar 
departments. For this work he required several fore- 
men, who were appointed from among the young men 
that showed ability to lead the other boys. He had some 
peculiar ways of testing the boys. I remember that his 
final trial in my case was to sound my honesty in regard 
to money matters. 

One day he went away from the school hurriedly and 
while leaving he told me to get his trousers and have 
them pressed for him by the time he returned. When I 


THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 49 


went to get them I found they had a large wad of money 
in the pocket. I took it out carefully, counted it, and 
buried it in the ground in a secluded spot. 

When Mr. Green returned one of the first things he 
wanted to know was about the money. I led him to the 
lonely spot and dug it up and gave it to him. His remark 
was: “I guess you will do. There is a place I have in 
mind for you.”’ The next day he suggested to Mr. Wash- 
ington that he take me out of school and make me fore- 
man on the farm, to begin with a salary of thirty dollars 
a month and to have one meal daily with the teachers. If 
I succeeded in the work, I was to have further promo- 
tion, both in salary and in the distinction of having my 
three meals with the teachers, thus virtually becoming a 
member of the faculty. 

As I was still in the preparatory grades, it was with 
reluctance that Mr. Washington agreed to this proposi- 
tion, but I was notified of the plan. After having con- 
sidered it for a week, I respectfully declined to accept the 
offer, and I went into the Printing Office, to begin a four- 
year-study of that trade. 

I wanted to learn what was in books. I was fond of 
reading and of study, and printing was and still is very 
interesting to me. I carried a book with me everywhere 
IT went, so as not to lose a second of my time. While 
driving my mules, with a load of wood, I would read 
until I had reached the place of unloading. Mr. Wash- 
ington took note of this and on one occasion, while ad- 
monishing the students to make good use of their time, 
he said: “There is a young man on the grounds who 
will be heard from some day, because of his intense ap- 


50 THE BLACK’ MAN’S .BURDEN 


plication to study and diligence in his work.” , From some 
ofthe circumstances I knew-that he was speaking of me. 
The fact that I might be “heard from’ later made me - 
double my resolutions. : 
In: September, 1891, I had one hundred dollars to my- 


credit in the treasury of the Institution, so that I was’ ' 


now ready to enter.the day school, to measure.arms with 
the more fortunate students. But sickness overtook me, 
and when I emerged from the «hospital after. about.two ¢ 
months of- illness my doctor’s bill was a hundred dollars 
and.my accumulated credit went to pay it. 


This was the penalty that I had to pay. for. trying. to aa 


make ‘too rapidly.the transit from a lower..to.a higher | 
civilization. When I lived without .undergarments_ at 
home my health was conserved, because of the uniformity © 
of my ‘habits. At college it had been injured because I — 
could wear proper garments one week, but might not be © 
able to do so the next. Moreover, Tuskegee gave me 
such living rooms as I had never: lived in before, as 
hitherto I had lived in log houses, which are self-ventilat- 
ing. Now I had either too much ventilation or none at 
all. 

Whenever I:hear people talk about: he high death- 
rate of colored people, I cannot help recalling my own 
experiences, not only. in the circumstances just. stated, 
but:in hundreds of others, from the time I can remember 
until within a few years ago. As our people. emerge 
from a lower to a higher civilization there is bound to be 
more ‘or less: falling by the wayside. It is not an easy 
matter to-live for years in a house that has no windows, : : 
—in: which: the only. light comes through the cracks or’, 


Emmett J. Scort 
(See page 226) 
Secretary, Tuskegee Normal and_ Industrial Institute; 
Negro Business League 


Secretary, National 


THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 51 


the open door even in the winter time, in rain and in 
storm,—then suddenly to find oneself the occupant of a 
well-built house, with glass windows and other comforts, 
and trying to adjust oneself readily to these new condi- 
tions. 

I have known people, who had been poor all their days, 
to become suddenly the possessors of what to them was 
wealth. They would move into a good house, the first 
they had ever lived in, and in less than two years several 
members of the family would die, and everybody would 
say that the good house had killed them. 

I used to wonder how it was that a good house could 
kill black folks and never affect the whites. The truth 
is, as I afterward learned, that when people who have 
always been accustomed to wear inexpensive clothes find 
themselves in a position to buy woolen underwear they 
very often wear the woolen underwear alternately with 
cotton, which of course will be disastrous to any man, 
whether he be black or white. This is only one of the 
thousand reasons why the black people in passing from a 
lower to a higher civilization show such a high death- 
rate. 

After my illness I went home to recuperate, but I re- 
turned to Tuskegee within a few weeks. As I had no 
money, I was again permitted to enter the night school 
and work during the day. This time, as I have said, I 
took up the printer’s trade. Here I broke the conven- 
tional rule of acting “devil” for six months, and began 
setting type after having been one month in the office. 
Within six months I was one of the school’s regular 


52 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 


compositors, and ‘within one term I had sufficient credit 
with the treasurer to enter the day school. 

But I was not yet to enter. A letter came from my 
father, saying, “If you wish to see me again alive, I think 
it will be well to come at once.” J went, and my father 
died in a few days after I reached home,—June 27, 1893. 
All hope of future schooling seemed now at an end. My 
only thought was to do the best I could with the heavy 
load left on my hands. I pulled off my school clothes, 
went to the field, and finished the crop Father had 
started. He had left a heavy debt, so I began to teach 
school in order to pay it. 

Of course I knew little, but I taught what I did know 
—and I suppose some things that I did not. I think, 
even now, that I did the people in that community some 
good. I made them whitewash their fences and clean up 
their houses and premises generally, just as I had been 
taught to do at Tuskegee. The white people, to whom 
belonged the huts in which the Negroes lived, were much 
pleased at the way I taught the people to improve their 
surroundings, and when I was ready to go they made me 
a flattering offer to remain. 

This was a very poor community. There was no 
schoolhouse except a little abandoned log cabin, which 
was given by a white man on condition that we fix it up. 
I could not get many people interested at first, so I took 
the boys whom I could interest, together with a few of 
the girls. We made mortar of mud with which we 
stopped the cracks until the house was air tight, and we 
also made a mud ceiling. There were no windows nor 


THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 53 


shutters. It was not a government school, but had to 
be paid for by those who sent their children. 

I taught three months and received in cash one dollar, 
but the produce I received was something wonderful. I 
told them I would take corn, peas, potatoes, molasses, 
pork, shucks, cottonseed,—in fact, anything with which 
they wished to pay me. Wagons were secured and 
loaded; for several days all sorts of provisions were 
hauled to my mother’s house and stored away for winter. 

Not all the patrons, however, were willing to pay. 
Some would dodge me when they saw me coming with 
my wagons to get some produce. At one time when I 
drove up to a gate and called for the man of the house 
the little girl who had been one of my pupils came to the 
door and said: ‘Come on, Professor; Papa is under the 
bed. He said, “Tell him Iam not in.’”’ Before I got in, 
however, I heard the mother say: “Come out from 
under there, ol’ man, and give this teacher some satisfac- 
tion for what he has done for your children.” And by 
the time I got in the house he was standing up as straight 
as a Sioux chief. Suffice it to say, I got two fine sides 
of meat from that house and a barrel of molasses. Once 
you get a colored man upon his feet, there is no telling 
what you can get out of him. 

I called at another woman’s house to make a collection. 
She met me at the gate and said: “’Fore God, ’Fessor, 
Tain’t got a thing that I can give you. I ain’t got noth- 
ing here but the cat you see behind me. If you want 
him, you can have him.” She was eager to pay, so I 
accepted the cat and allowed her one dollar for it, and I 
turned it loose before I got out of sight. At another 


54 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 


house where I went for a collection the good woman 
looked all over the house to see what she could find to 
give me. There was nothing of value but a pair of scis- 
sors. She took them and forced them into my pocket 
_ against my protest, saying that I must have something 
for the work I had done for her children. In this way 
I taught school for three years, and so managed to sup- 
port my mother and her family. 

During the winter of 1893-4 I taught in Whitesburg, 
Georgia, a little village on the C. R. C. railroad, between 
Atlanta and Carrolton, Ga. Here I found the Negroes 
still a power in Georgia politics. The Hon. Bob Sewall, 
the man with whom I boarded, was the boss Negro poli- 
tician of that congressional district, a district that after- 
ward became known as Congressman Adams’s district. 
In political conventions I have seen him have every white 
man in attendance, including some eminent lawyers, 
fought to a standstill,—“‘beaten to a frazzle,” so to speak. 

Gradually, these white Republicans grew weary of his 
domination, and they began a systematic effort to elimi- 
nate the Negro from the party, or, to state it in another 
way, they began an attempt to set up a white wing to 
the party. To make the matter plain, I had been ap- 
pointed “secretary” to the Hon. Bob, and was in reality 
at the head of the Republican party in that district. For 
Uncle Bob, as I called him, could read and write with 
difficulty, but he was a good speaker. I wrote all his 
letters and newspaper articles, and composed all his 
speeches. It always-amazed me to see how much natural 
power he displayed in delivering those compositions. 

But the white Republicans kept after Uncle Bob’s scalp. 


THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 55 


At length, he came to me one day and said, “Sec., some- 
thing must be done. Those fellows are going to beat me 
unless something can be done.” I told him I would take 
the matter in hand. Our first move was to begin the fight 
through the columns of the local Democratic papers, for 
there was no Republican paper. 

The first article, which called forth applause and com- 
ment from seventeen Democratic papers, was signed 
“Clodknocker.”’ In it I appealed to the black Republicans 
to cut loose from the half-hearted white Republicans, and 
I showed that those who called themselves the “White 
Wing” were in reality only a white feather in the wing 
of a Republican blackbird, as the party was nine-tenths 
black. 

I then asked what constituted a true Republican. In 
answer I quoted from General Grant’s “Memoirs” and 
showed clearly, from General Grant’s definition of a Re- 
publican, that there was not a single white man in Carroll 
County who could be called a Republican. That article 
killed the white wing of the Republican party in that 
county as dead as a doornail, for when the general con- 
vention met three weeks later only one white Republican 
was there. The last time I heard of Carroll County that 
white wing was still dead, but the black wing was also 
gone. 

Up to this time all this tirade in the papers had been 
accredited to Uncle Bob, but it now leaked out that I was 
the culprit, and I at once became popular, an honor to 
which I had never aspired. There now came showers of 
letters and invitations to write articles for county papers 
or to address political meetings of many kinds. I had 


56 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 


offers of money for my influence in the campaign that 
elected a Democratic governor, Atkinson, but I never ac- 
cepted a single dollar from any one for such service, 
though I wrote articles and delivered numerous addresses. 

All this, however, was a sort of pastime to me. I was 
all the while teaching school and trying to improve my 
meager education by study. My aspiration was to be the 
leading teacher in that county, for the man who held that 
honor could not have made the third grade, in an honest 
examination, to save himself; nevertheless, he held a first 
grade certificate. 

Because of my efforts to insure honesty in the exam- 
inations I incurred the displeasure of the leading teachers 
in one county in which I taught. To obtain a third grade 
license in that county, all that was necessary was to pay 
the president of the teachers’ “Passing Club” five dollars, 
and you got the license; ten dollars, and you got the 
second grade; fifteen dollars, and you got the first grade. 
It was because of my efforts to expose these methods 
that I lost my popularity with the teachers. 

“Flow could these people write grade papers?’ was the 
question, and for its answer the good old superintendent 
of education in that county would have given a great deal. 
The examinations were taken under the inspection of 
himself and three other persons, all with nothing to do 
but to see that each man took a fair examination. I have 
seen teachers come into the examination room with tablet 
and pencil, who, being under suspicion, would be placed 
in seats of honor in the center of the room, where they 
would remain all day, sleeping fully half the time. They 
would not write more than two pages during the two 


THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 57 


days that the examination lasted; yet, when the papers 
would be graded, they would receive the first grade, and 
what is more, their papers would be excellent. How was 
it done? Easily enough. The principal of the city 
school at the county seat was president of the “Passing 
Club.” When the white superintendent would send to 
Atlanta for a tablet of some special color to be used in 
the examinations, the president of the club would find 
out where he obtained them, and would proceed to get 
some of the same kind and hide them over at his house. 
After the examination would be over, the superintendent 
would gather up the tablets and lock them in a room of 
the Court House that was provided for that purpose. 
Within ten days he and his commissioners would meet, 
unlock the door, and examine and grade the tablets. 
Meanwhile, the president of the club and his aids would 
have removed the original tablets by night, and would 
have placed in their stead the others all prepared by ex- 
perts. What could the superintendent do but give first 
grade to those persons whose papers apparently deserved 
it? 

Having secured the aid of a few teachers and minis- 
ters, I commenced a crusade against these frauds, and 
when I left Georgia the practice in Carroll County was 
nearly stopped. 

But my mother still wished me to be educated. At 
length, she married again, for no higher reason than to 
permit me and the other children, who were growing up, 
to go to school. My hopes for an education were now 
again renewed, and I began to get ready to go back to 


58 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 


Tuskegee, where nearly everybody had forgotten my ex- 
istence. 

Like other politicians, however, I was without money. 
I went to Governor Atkinson, then Democratic Governor 
of Georgia, to borrow a few dollars until school should 
close. He knew me well by reputation, and although he 
was himself a poor man, he readily gave me the money 
as a gift, and also a little kindly lecture on the advisa- 
bility of staying out of politics. The good Governor died 
shortly after that, but I have ever since followed his 
advice.