[n.b. - page numbers refer to printed text. Available at https://archive.org/details/blackmansburden0000will ] CHAPTER V It was no easy matter for me to leave Snow Hill, where I had made so many friends, chief among them being Professor Edwards, principal of the school, and his good wife, Susie. Of all the friends I have made in my lifetime no one has been a better one than Mr. Ed- wards; not only did he prove himself a friend during the four years I passed with him, but he had been a friend to me even before then and he has been ever since. We have always counselled together, and even at this day whenever any important matters affecting either of us arise, each is sure to call on the other for suggestions and advice. During those years Mr. Edwards, being older and more experienced than I was, was a guide to me. I took note of all he did and I think I often patterned my own work after his. Therefore, instead of my settling down and making Snow Hill my home because of my four years' pleasant stay there, contact with Mr. Edwards stimulated my desire to work in an even darker field, if that were possible, than Snow Hill. Day after day I saw him struggling to build up an institution in one of the most neglected sections of Alabama. I saw him often when he was without decent clothes or sufficient food ; yet he was happy. I saw him year by year going forward, 68 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN not by leaps and bounds, but at a snail's pace, yet with a determination that could not be overcome. I saw the condition of the community about him, and witnessed the splendid fight he was making against tre- mendous odds; and I entered heart and soul into the work he was doing. One of the ways in which I sought to help him to enlighten the community was by editing and publishing a weekly paper, makmg it pay for itself. I even went so far as to try to make it a daily paper by reducing its size, but this last venture only lasted two weeks. So far as I know, however, it was the only daily paper ever published by a Negro in Alabama. On Sundays, I went out into the surrounding country and organized the people into what I called "The Black Belt Improvement Society.*' This society grew to be a permanent factor in our work. Under its auspices an annual fair was held at the school. It also maintained a savings department which, during my last year there, when all savings were returned to the members, suc- ceeded in declaring an annual dividend of thirty-seven per cent. This organization was afterward renewed in Mississippi, and later I shall tell something of its results. All this contact with the people of the surrounding country had bound me closely to them, so that, I repeat, it was difficult for me to get away. My wife had been ill for some time, so when I was ready to leave it was not possible to take her along with me, therefore it was agreed that she should remain be- hind and that I should go alone. What little money I had I left with her. I took with' me not quite enough to pay my railroad fare, for I ex- THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN 69 pected to sell my wife's bicycle when I reached Selma, the next town, and thus secure the balance of my fare to Utica, Mississippi, for which I was bound. But I could not sell the bicycle, so there I was with the machine on my hands and not enough money to pay my fare. However, I proceeded on my way in the direction of Utica with what money I had, paying fifty cents for the bicycle to travel in the express car. My ticket carried me about two hundred and fifty miles. When my money gave out I found myself in a strange and unfrequented section of Mississippi. I got astride my bicycle and rode until I came to a town called Qeveland. There I put up for the night in the waiting-room of the little station. Late in the night when the station agent was ready to close up he told me I would have to get out. I knew nobody, and there did not seem to be any place where I could pass the night, so I went out into the neighboring woods and fell asleep, with my head on my bicycle for a pillow. I prayed that night before I went to sleep that I might be guided in a dream, which should tell me whether to proceed or what to do. This was in October, and during, the night there was a heavy frost. About three o'clock in the morning I awoke to find my hair and clothes covered with frost, and I had not dreamed a thing. Without having had any instruction or guidance as to what I should do, it seemed to me that the best thing to do first would be to shake off the frost, and see if I could not get a little warmth into my bones. Then I wandered about the town, knocking at one door and then another, trying to find some one who would be kind enough to 70 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN take me in. But every one was convinced that I was a tramp, and therefore would not admit me. As a matter of fact, I suppose I was a tramp, but that did not seem to me a good reason at that time for shutting the door on me. Every householder I succeeded in arousing would send me to the next one, until, after a while, one told me that I would find an old fertilizer house down the rail- road where I might stay. I found the house and occu- pied it for a time. At dawn I jumped astride my bicycle and battled my way southward through the cane brakes, swamps, and marshes of Boliver County toward Utica. Boliver County is the fourth county southward from Memphis on the east side of the Mississippi River, right in the heart of the Mississippi Delta. It is noted as a QOt- ton raising county. The lands are very largely owned by the whites, in tracts of a hundred to several thousand acres, but there are several well-to-do Negroes in the county, and have been ever since soon after the Negroes were set free. It was of this county in the early days of reconstruction that the late Senator, B. K. Bruce, was sheriff. It was from this county also that he was later sent to Washington as United States Senator from Mis- sissippi. Another thing of interest about this county is the fact that the Negro town of Mound Bayou is located here. This town is situated on the Y. & M. V. railroad, about halfway between Memphis and Vicksburg, and is generally spoken of as the largest and most progressive purely Negro settlement in the country. When I set out for Mississippi I had it in my mind that probably I should attempt to start a school at Mound Bayou or somewhere in Boliver County. I first stopped THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN 71 two miles south of Mound Bayou at a little deserted vil- lage called Renova. Here I found about a hundred empty houses, two churches, and a hotel. There were eight or ten houses occupied by Negroes. The empty houses had formerly been occupied by saw-mill laborers, but the mill had been moved and the laborers had moved with it. These houses were all for sale, together with several hundred acres of land in their neighborhood. The land agent who had charge of these sales, and who evidently expected to build another Mound Bayou there, was a graduate, as he told me, of Fisk University. I tried to make a deal with him and start a school there, but for some reason the more I talked about purchasing the land, the more he distrusted me, imtil at length he grew so suspicious that we could not transact any business at all. I could not convince him that a man that was not a college graduate could build a school. Seeing my ina- bility to work with him, I went to Memphis to talk the matter over with the gentleman who owned the land and the houses, but before I reached Memphis the land agent at Renova had communicated in some way with the Mem- phis gentleman, and had undoubtedly made him believe that I was a tramp, and so I could not get a conference with him, after having reached there. I then went down to Mound Bayou, where I was received most cordially by Mr. I. T. Montgomery, founder and chief factor of the town. He seemed to be very much interested in my plans, and after he had shown me about the town we had a conference about the feasibility of my project. He asked me some searching questions, among them how and where I expected to get the money to establish 72 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN my enterprise. This was a question I could not answer, and for this reason Mr. Montgomery did not see any wisdom in encouraging me to make an effort at Mound Bayou. However, he was careful not to discourage me. I remember that he bade me go on, and keep in touch with him, and in the meantime he handed me some leaf- lets containing a description of how he had fotmded Mound Bayou. I read this description with a great deal of interest, and it gave me courage and hope, which I needed very much at that time. I remember that one of the leaflets contained something like the following state- ment as to how Mr. Montgomery had founded Mound Bayou : "On a siunmer morning in July, 1887, the fast express dropped me at a cross-road sawmill. I was accompanied by a civil engineer, with whom I had spent the day pre- vious in the trackless forest northwest of the town of Shaw. It was not yet day when we disembarked from the train. We went a short distance to the quarter mill and were generously treated to a hearty breakfast. "Immediately afterward we started to tramp north- ward on the line of railway. After a walk of nearly three miles my companion paused and said, *Here is the land.' "I gazed north and south along the railway right of way, which cut a wide path, something like the street of a great city, through the forest and jungle. On either side were impassable barriers of cane, which stood twenty-five feet high, interwoven with briars and thickly studded with mighty trees, some of which were one him- dred and fifty feet in height. ^ THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN 73 "I- tramped up and down, looking for a place of en- trance. Finally I found a hunter's trail which had been kept open by wild beasts and wandering cattle. This led along the bank of the bayou from which the locality de- rived its name. A mile farther along this path came out to the railway again. We, however, turned farther north and found the woods somewhat more open. As the fall- ing shadows reminded us that the day was nearly done we stood upon the spot now occupied by the town." Now, that section of Mississippi through which I was travelling was wild and little frequented. I was told by the people along the route that I was likely to meet bears and panthers, wild cats and catamounts. As I had no means of defense, all I could do was to ride in a hurry, and that I did, though not so fast as to escape being at- tacked by a wild cat about dusk one evening. Before I left that section my wheel broke down. Then I had to put it on my shoulders, roll up my trousers, and proceed to my destination afoot. I remember walking once all day without water, not having found a single place where I could get any that was fit to drink. At length when it was nearly night I came to an old church where there was a cistern about thirty feet deep, with sparkling water at the bottom. I went to this well and looked in. There was no bucket with which to get the water, but there was a rope. So I tied my hat to the rope, put a stone into it, and let it down. When the hat was full of water it pulled loose from the rope and remained in the well. I was so famished for water that I attempted to go 74 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN down into the well, to get both the water and the hat. I put a pole down, then went down on it, and after having obtained my hat and a drink, I started up the pole again, but found it was so sleek that I could not climb it. There I was in the bottom of a well, many miles from any house, with dark approaching. I was desperate and made many frantic efforts to get out, but could not until an- other traveller came along, who, like myself, was looking for water. He was a white farmer, living in the neigh- borhood. He yelled down to know what I was doing there, and when I told him he let down a rope, and said : "Catch hold there and I will pull you out, though most 'niggers' ain't worth it." After he had got me out, how- ever, and I had thanked him profusely, he carried me on to his house, took me into the kitchen, and gave me a sub- stantial meal of molasses and bread. I don't know when I have so appreciated a meal. In my travels I had an opportunity to see and examine at first hand that section of the country known as the Delta, through which I passed. I talked with its people, both white and black, and tried to get their point of view in regard to the Negro. Starting at Memphis, I passed through all that interesting territory along the Y. & M. V. railroad, by way of Tunica, Merigold, Mound Bayou, Renova, Shaw, and Leland. I then travelled over what was then known as the "Loop," a branch of the Y. & M. V. railroad lying along the east bank of the Mississippi River. Here I had an opportunity to observe the coun- ties of Issaquena, Sharkey, Washington, Tunica, Cohoma, and some others. They were all largely populated with Negroes, some of them, notably Issaquena, having about THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN 75 twenty-five Negroes to one white. I then left the rail- road and travelled in a southerly direction through a for- est of canebrakes, such as I had never seen before, until I reached the village of Dockery, on the Sunflower river, about thirty-five miles east of Rosedale. After having passed a while there in making observations I went to Ruleville in Sunflower county, still farther east, where I reached the railroad again. I then tramped along the railroad from there to Indianola, thence to Greenwood, a junction on another branch of the Y. & M. V. and the Southern Railway in Mississippi. All along this journey I interviewed many classes of people, and learned many interesting facts. For instance, I called to see a wealthy white planter at Minter City, and when I drove into his great plantation, — with its mansion on the river bank and several hundred Negro cabins, all whitewashed, in the background, — it gave me a feeling that I was going into a city. When I tramped up to his gate I was told that I would find him at the store about a hundred yards away. I walked down to the store and the planter met me at the door, shook my hand, and I sat down by the fire in the rear of the store. I began the interview at once. First I told him my plans candidly, and asked his advice. He listened carefully to all that I had to say, then he said, talking deliberately : "I believe you are about to engage in a good work, and I would like to see the Negro educated, but, candidly, I do not think that the kind of school you would like to start would do any good in the Delta. I really think it would do harm. What I want here is Negroes who can make cotton, and they don't need education to help them 76 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN make cotton. I could not use educated Negroes on my place^ but since you have asked me for advice, I will tell you candidly that here in the Delta is no place to start a school. Such a school as you speak of is needed, but not here. I have read about the great work of Booker Wash- ington, and I believe you are headed in the same direc- tion, but you cannot succeed here. I advise you to go out of the Delta into the hill country farther east and establish your school, — in a place where Negroes own their own lands, or, at least, where they are renters and are more independent. In case you do that, I will become a contributor to your school, and I will take bright Negroes from my plantation and send them to your school to be educated." Here I ventured to put in a word, and began by saying, "But they will be educated." But before I had finished the sentence he interrupted, "I hope you will keep them there or send them somewhere else when they are educated." Then he offered me a ten-dollar bill for the trouble I had taken in coming to see him. One thing that interested me about all these talks was that the majority of the planters I interviewed in the Delta seemed to be afraid of the results of Negro edu- cation. I found a few who seemed to be a little afraid of the Negro in general, and a great many who doubted the wisdom of Negro education. These were high-grade men whom I interviewed, — men of culture and wealth. But I also talked to some of the common people; for instance, at Greenwood I had a conversation with a rail- road section foreman. It was late on a Saturday even- ing and I wanted to go to a little town called Parsons, THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN yj the terminus of the Y. & M. V. railroad, and twelve miles north of Greenwood. The last train of the day had gone, and no other train was going in that direction be- fore Monday morning. I had an engagement to address an audience there on Sunday at twelve o'clock. I went to the railroad section foreman's shanty, where he was changing his clothes and taking a shave, and asked him if he would not let me have his hand-car to go the twelve miles. He seemed to realize my predicament and de- cided to accommodate me, provided L could get his laborers to pull the car that distance. I was elated over the prospects of making the trip on the hand-car. Just then he began questioning me about my business, and when I told him frankly what I was doing in Mississippi he became very suspicious, and I noticed that his face became flushed, while he was still shaving. He turned toward me, with the razor in his hand and his face still flushed, and, with a few oaths, he began to accuse me of being a railroad detective, all of which I denied in a hurry. Then he stopped and said, "If I thought you were, I would proceed to use this on your neck instead of mine." I found it necessary to close the interview immediately, and I did not wait until the hand-car was ready to go. I then called, outside of the town, at the home of a very wealthy planter and politician, whose father had been a senator of the United States and perhaps one of the strongest men Mississippi has ever produced. I had previously arranged for the interview, which proved to be the most interesting one that I had on this trip. So far as I could see, he was a bachelor who lived out on 78 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN his plantation in a splendid modem house. Here he was surrounded by a host of Negroes ; several of the women ministered to his wants about the house. His very man- ner showed that he was lord of the situation. It was a hot day and I was struck by the fact that he met me at the door clad in only two thin garments and he carried a large palmetto fan in his hand. He paid very little at- tention to me, but one could not fail to observe that he was a gentleman of the old school, although he was not an old man. He was a great talker, and he gave me very little opportunity to reply to him. He began by saying that he had very little faith in the Negro's becoming any- thing but a laborer. He referred to the Negroes on his plantation and told how much he valued them as la- borers; then he began to speak of the Negro's morality, or rather, his lack of morality ; for he said that they had none. On this subject he had a great deal to say, and he wound up by saying that there were no Negro women who were chaste, and that the morality of Negro men need not be discussed. Here I ventured to suggest to him that perhaps his knowledge of Negro women was limited to the women of his own plantation or to those of his neighbors' plantations, or, perhaps, to the women that one would usually see on the streets of a city. He was quick to see the point, and after a moment's thought he seemed to realize that he had been rather broad in his statement, and, as if to make amends, he said: "I did not mean to say that there may not be some good Negro women, — somewhere. For instance, I think a woman like Booker Washington's wife is all right." He said that Negroes in general were dishonest and untrustworthy; THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN 79 but he added that he was acquainted with one who could be trusted anywhere at any time. While he didn't be- lieve in Negro education, he seemed to be willing to give it a trial, and he thought that this ought to be the attitude of all white men, but he said candidly that the Delta was not the place for a school for Negroes. All in all, that was a pleasant interview that I had, — with a man of great intelligence, strong convictions, and undoubted sin- cerity. I say this, in spite of the fact that I found it im- possible to agree with him during the interview. I have often been asked why I did not start my school in the Delta of Mississippi. What I have said here will in some degree serve as an answer. You cannot build a school that will be useful unless the people are in sym- pathy with your efforts. Another reason was that I in- tended from the first that my school should be a board- ing-school, and for that reason I thought that it ought to be on high land, out from the Delta, so that it would not suffer from overflows caused by the breaking of levees. And, too, there was a minor consideration that had a great deal of influence with me. I had been bom and reared in a hill country, and did not know that such level tracts of land existed until I saw the Delta lands. To a man bom and reared in a mountainous country there is something about the dead level of the Delta coimtry that is very depressing. It certainly depressed me. It even worried me to ride my bicycle on the dead level miles after miles. I wanted some hills to climb, and then I thought, — ^perhaps foolishly, — that I would teach my children to sing, "My Country, 'Tis of Thee." I did not see how I could put any sense into that stanza 8o THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN that says, "I love thy rocks and rills, thy woods and templed hills." I knew that some of these children had never seen a rock or a rill. They had seen, the woods, it is true, but not the templed hills. Speaking further of interviews, when I left Green- wood I made my way in a southerly direction until I came within ten miles of the I. C. R. R. Here I had my first interview with one of the lords of the hills. He was a fine type of the old-fashioned white man, lived in the same old brick mansion that his father had occupied on a plantation where slaves went to and fro forty years before; and, to make it more interesting, several of these former slaves still lived on the plantation, which was literally dotted with their descendants. The plantation was in a high state of cultivation, the work being done by Negroes as tenant farmers. The land owner's name was Cameron, — 3, man who had been asked to allow his name to go before the voters as a candidate for governor of Mississippi, but this, I think, he refused to do because of failing health. What interested me especially about this man and his surroundings was the tremendous in- fluence that he wielded over the Negroes living on his plantation. Once while we were looking at the retreat- ing mass of men and mules as they were leaving the man- sion on their way to the fields for the day's work, he began talking of them in a reminiscent fashion. He said : "Thirty or forty years ago when Negroes were voters here in Mississippi it was my custom on election day to march them up to the polls just as you see them march- ing to the fields ; and they voted as I told them to vote. It used to be a saying that whoever the Cameron Negroes THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN 8i voted for in this section was sure of election. They will do an)rthing I say do. If I were to tell them to lynch you at this minute, in less than a half hour you would be hung up to a tree." Here I ventured to suggest that where people possess such a spirit it might not be a good place to start a school. He did not seem to catch the point, but continued his reminiscences, saying : "Some years ago there was a little strip of a Negro tramp around here, who in a fit of anger killed one of my best Negroes. I was completely exas- perated, and told the Negroes to take the boy down back of the field and lynch him." Here he hesitated to go further, but I was eager to hear the story completed and I asked, "Did they lynch him?" He simply remarked, "Well, I have not seen him since," and so I could not get him to discuss the matter any further. I had a most satisfactory conversation with this man, — the most satisfactory that I had at all. He not only be- lieved in Negro education, but also in education for all men. He had a quaint way of putting this belief by say- ing that education and nothing else could make the Negro any worse than he was; but beneath all he showed that he thought all people should be educated. He invited me to build a school on his plantation, offered me a splen- did tract of eight acres for a site as a gift, and said, "If you wish to fight, I will help you in the battle." He then took me in his buggy and carried me to his quarters and introduced me to all the Negroes. One of them, H. T. Pinquite, whose ancestors had been slaves on the Cam- eron plantation, proved to be an interesting figure. He was renting a large section of the plantation and sub- 82 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN renting it to other Negroes. I think he was operating about forty plows. It was with this man and his wife that I passed atx>ut a week. Since that time I have had the pleasure of teaching three of their children. Mr. Cameron seemed to be in earnest about the building of the school near his plantation, and I was seriously con- sidering the matter myself ; therefore I cannot say what might have taken place had Mr. Cameron not died soon after I left. Before I reached Utica my bicycle became an increas- ing burden. I met a young Negro boy who wanted to trade for it, and he offered me his IngersoU watch and two dollars in cash, which I promptly accepted. Thus I entered Utica with a dollar watch and two dollars in money, a condition in which I should not have found myself but for this bargain. I was met by the head deacon of the Baptist Church, A. C. Carter, who took me three miles out into the country to his house and very carefully explained that he could keep me only one week. Deacon Carter was an influential man in the community. Not only was he a deacon of the Baptist Church, which had about four hundred members, but he was respected by everybody, white and black alike. What he said in the community carried a great deal of weight. I was told, and I afterward believed, that it was he, together with Oliver Broom and Tom Williams, who usually made and unmade both the preachers and the teachers in their community. Indeed, these three men had been singled out by the county authorities, headed by the County School Superintendent, and had been designated Trustees of the Negro Public School ; therefore, the pub- THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN 83 lie school had been entrusted to them. They made ar- rangements for me to board at the home of a young school-mistress, who agreed to board me for two dollars a week, but stipulated that I was to pay every Saturday. Fortunately, I had two dollars for the first week, so I began boarding. I went down town the next day to make the acquain- tance of the white people and to see how they felt about the matter of a new teacher in their community. In order to get a financial standing in the community, I first visited the bank to deposit my two dollars. The banker looked at me rather curiously when I asked him a few questions about deposits and withdrawals. He naturally hesitated about taking my small deposit, especially when I told him I would have to draw it at the end of the week. However, after questioning me considerably, he accepted the deposit and gave me a check book. At the end of that week I gave my landlady a check for two dollars, whereupon she protested that it was not necessary to pay until the end of the month. I insisted on her taking at least $1.75 of it, but she would only do so on condition that thereafter I should pay her at the end of the month. I realize that I did not treat my land- lady fairly, but at the time I only considered the fact that it was necessary for me to establish my credit. I was safe for four more weeks, although that was my last penny, and from that time until the present I have never had any trouble in getting all the credit I wanted in Utica. My first effort to ascertain the sentiment of the white people was made on the same day that I opened the bank 84 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN account. I called on Col. J. B. Chapman, a leading white citizen and the only attorney of the place. I told him all about my plans and asked his opinion. I have not for- gotten his reply; it was about the same opinion you will hear in the average Southern community. What he said was about as follows: y '"Well, if you can do anything to improve the 'niggers/ every decent white man in this town will be glad to sec you do it. I know some 'niggers' can improve, like old Tom Williams and Alf . Carter, but you will never do any- thing with some of these young 'niggers/ and it is a waste of time to try. If you start out here and do as a 'nigger' did last year, — ^he came here and collected money from the people, saying he was going to start a school, and then absconded with the money, — ^there is no telling what will happen to you. But if you are making an honest effort to make the 'nigger' better, you will find the best white people of this town and of this state supporting you." He assured me that he favored my plans as I outlined them. I tried to get him to become a member of the trustee board, but he declined on the ground of not know- ing anything about that kind of work. However, he said he would help me in every way he could, and from that time to the time of his death Colonel Chapman was true to his word and to the work that I was doing. He be- came so interested in the school that if he saw one of the boys in town in the least disorderly he would promptly report it to me. He did this on several occasions. Another man, whom I met in those early years, was a young planter, whose father and grandfather had been THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN 85 large slave-owners. He was the Hon. Alexander Yates, at that time postmaster of the town. I explained my plans to him, and he evinced more than usual interest from the very first, telling me, just as Mr. Chapman had done, about the man who had preceded me. He warned me against a possible recurrence of that sort of thing, and ended by saying that if I meant business I could depend on him for help. This was certainly encouraging to a man who had just drawn a check for the last cent he had in the world. Mr. Yates became more and more interested in the school as the years went by, and many are the acts of kindness which he has shown us during these years of its existence. I have asked him for many favors, and never yet have I been refused. During this time I have bor- rowed from him,— in emergency cases,— many hundred dollars, and often without one cent of interest, nor has he ever required anything more than my personal note, which was usually no more than a promise to pay when I was able. Among other persons that I consulted were the Curry Brothers, Z. Wardlaw and Company, Mimms and New- man, and Kelley-Sinrnions and Company, and from them all I received a great deal of encouragement, as I shall show later. In the meanwhile Deacon Carter had been busy among the white officials, and he had succeeded in getting me an audience with the town councilors. At this meeting I put my plans before the officials, who evinced considerable interest in them and expressed the opinion that the plan was a good one, if it could be car- ried out. They were themselves at that time just estab- 86 THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN lishing a separate school district for the white youth of Utica, and something had to be done for the few colored children who lived within the corporate limits; so they quickly agreed to make my project a part of the separate school district and to pay me twenty dollars a month for teadiing the Negro pupils of the town. This much settled, I went to the county seat, where I had some difficulty in securing an audience with the Superintendent of Education. Upon my second visit, however, he received me cordially, and listened atten- tively to my plan as I unfolded it to him. He was per- fectly willing that I shotdd teach the public school of Utica, but as he could only pay two teachers a given amount, and as I was compelled to have four, that left nothing for my own services. However, I accepted the proposition, took the examination, received the necessary license, and opened the public school the first Monday in November, 1902. While teaching this public school I continued to agitate the question of an independent school, and I went from door to door and from church to church among both white and colored people, getting contributions and pledges of whatever amounts they could give.