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    Up from Slavery
    Up from Slavery
    Up from Slavery
    Ebook285 pages5 hours

    Up from Slavery

    By Booker T. Washington

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    Booker T. Washington’s classic memoir of enslavement, emancipation, and community advancement in the Reconstruction Era.
     
    Born into slavery on a tobacco farm in nineteenth-century Virginia, Booker T. Washington became one of the most powerful intellectuals of the Reconstruction Era. As president of the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, he advocated for the advancement of African Americans through education and entrepreneurship. In Up from Slavery, Washington speaks frankly and honestly about his enslavement and emancipation, struggle to receive an education, and life’s work as an educator.
     
    In great detail, Washington describes establishing the Tuskegee Institute, from teaching its first classes in a hen house to building a prominent institution through community organization and a national fundraising campaign. He also addresses major issues of the era, such as the Jim Crow laws, Ku Klux Klan, and “false foundation” of Reconstruction policy.
     
    Up From Slavery is based on biographical articles written for the Christian newspaper Outlook and includes the full text of Washington’s revolutionary Atlanta Exposition address. First published in 1901, this powerful autobiography remains a landmark of African American literature as well as an important firsthand account of post–Civil War American history.
     
    This ebook has been professionally proofread to ensure accuracy and readability on all devices.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOpen Road Media
    Release dateDec 13, 2016
    ISBN9781504042437
    Author

    Booker T. Washington

    Booker T. Washington (1856–1915) was a prominent figure in the African American community and a champion of higher education. He was born into slavery and obtained freedom shortly after the Emancipation Proclamation. As a child, he worked manual jobs to help support his family, but aspired to receive a formal education. He enrolled in Hampton Normal Agricultural Institute in Virginia and thrived as a student. After graduating, Washington embarked on a career as a lecturer and leader of the Tuskegee Institute. He also worked as a political advisor to presidents Theodore Roosevelt and William Taft.

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    Reviews for Up from Slavery

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    • 4/5
      Things that impressed me from this book:* Booker's firm belief that merit would be recognized and rewarded. He considered this a great universal truth and a consolation for the persecuted. He considered this principle a key to improving racial relations.*To expand on the above thought, he thought the whole future of race relations hinged on whether or not the members of his race could make themselves of indispensable value to their community*Again, "the individual who do something that the world wants done will, in the end, make his way regardless of race"*He thought contact with great men and women of wisdom to be more useful than book learning*His thoughts on public speaking: "give them an idea for every word"--in other words, don't waste words. It is in injustice to speak merely for the sake of speaking, one should have a deep heartfelt message to deliver.*"I have found that the happiest people are those who do the most for others; the most miserable are those who do the least"* He believed in teaching students the dignity of labour, and he had little patience for schools that did not teach this. Indeed, many of the buildings, crops, and things needed by his school were supplied by student labour.*I love his thoughts on how to best administer and organization and hove good relations between employers/administrators and labour/students: He asked the students to write him a letter or have a meeting with him with their criticisms, complaints and suggestions. He thought many disputes could be avoided if the higher ups would cultivate a habit of getting nearer to their employees, consulting and advising with them, and letting them feel that they have shared interests.
    • 4/5
      An autobiography of a man who began his life in slavery and ended it as one of the most respected men in our nation. I wish his ideas on education were taken more to heart. He believed in educating the whole man/woman, not just their mind. He felt it was important that the student work at a craft or skill along with their studies, so that when they were finished, they would always have the ability to earn their living and contribute to their community, not just intelligence, but honest and needed labor. The thought being that since they had been forced for generations to give their labor to benefit others, labor in itself became evil to them. Washington wanted the students to see that labor was good and honorable, and education to go with it meant true freedom from bondage. It seems a good plan for all high school students to me.Mr. Washington was a great optimist, and believed the best of people, in some ways this book made me sad to think how far short of his ideals we have all come. But in other ways, we've come a long way, baby. Although some of his thinking seems outdated, and impractical and even wrong to us now, it is good to read it. He wrote this having lived through the worst of times, and was trying to work out how to make life better for his race and race relations better. We haven't solved that one yet, but always we forge on.For the educational theories alone, this book was a worthy and important read to me, but the history, the story and the man made it fascinating from start to finish.
    • 3/5
      The Preface, by William Andrews, a scholar of African-American literature, called the 1901 autobiography Up From Slavery "one of the few African-American texts that can be legitimately termed a classic" and its subject, Booker T. Washington, "one of the most controversial figures in African-American history." Some months ago I read the landmark 1952 novel of African-American literature by Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man. One of the characters, Bledsoe, is famously based upon Booker T. Washington, and the portrayal is scathing enough to strip paint. Washington has a reputation among some as an "Uncle Tom" and his vision famously conflicted with that of W.E.B. Du Bois. The Preface notes that Du Bois' critique "Of Booker T. Washington and Others" in the 1903 The Souls of Black Folk. signaled the beginning of the split on Washington within the African-American community and says that in Up From Slavery Washington wore a "minstrel mask."I can understand why some respond negatively to the man. At one point, Washington claimed that "the black man got nearly as much out of slavery as the white man." In context though, it's clear he means rather Southern whites were also damaged by the institution--that slavery eroded the work ethic in the South, so that manual labor became something slaves did and was looked upon with derision. Washington also claimed at one point that the very experience of slavery had left American blacks stronger "materially, intellectually, morally and religiously" than their African brethren. He seemed to be protesting too much in constantly insisting on the good relations between black and white Southerners. (At one point claiming the Ku Klux Klan was extinct. Admittedly, I once watched a documentary that noted the organization was in fact greatly diminished after Reconstruction--they'd have a resurgence a decade or so later after the book's publication.) And the praise of his Northern white benefactors seemed a bit...fulsome--and shameless name-dropping. (Of course, probably hits me that way partly because it was the style of the times--this is the Victorian Era after all.) But over the course of the book, that did wear at me. Of course, I do understand Washington was trying to influence a white audience in a time of eroding civil rights (thus the supposed "minstrel mask"). And never, ever did I get the impression either that Washington thought blacks weren't the equal of whites morally, socially or intellectually or that they should not be legally. It's clear Washington thought both slavery and segregation deeply immoral--even if at times I can understand why Du Bois said Washington pursued "an accommodationist strategy." In his famous Atlanta Exposition Address--which Du Bois called the "Atlanta Compromise," Washington, to the applause of white Southerners, said "in all things that are purely social we can be as separate as the fingers yet one as the hand in all things essential to mutual progress." It's hard to disagree with Du Bois who saw Washington as ceding too much in rejecting political power and not insisting on equal civil rights--and irked at his sometimes anti-intellectualism in his insistence of an "industrial" (think vocational) education over a liberal arts higher education.That's not to say that I don't think there isn't some value in what Washington has to say and what he accomplished. Du Bois wanted to depend on the training up the "talented tenth" into an intellectual elite and saw political power as key to gaining equal civil rights. Washington argued for economic power through self-reliance, a strong work ethic, and practical vocational education. This isn't just a black issue. I can see echoes of this argument today in contemporary debates on poverty and education. And I can understand why after witnessing the transient and seemingly futile period of black office-holding after Reconstruction, Washington might feel the political route was premature and unreliable as a way of progress. And with the Tuskegee Institute situated right in Alabama, Washington was right in the belly of the beast--in the heart of the once slave-holding Confederacy. He may have felt in conceding on civil rights (if concede he did) he wasn't giving up anything within his reach.Beyond the political issues, this is at times a fascinating piece of history, particularly in the first 50 pages or so of the 146-page book dealing with the young Washington and his memories of slavery and the Reconstruction Era and his efforts to gain an education. The first paragraph reminded me of the opening of Frederick Douglas' slave narrative. Like Douglas, Washington didn't know his own date of birth. Douglas explained that was something slave owners deliberately tried to deny slaves. Also like Douglas, Washington heard rumors his father was white but didn't know him personally. Washington's lifetime took him from slavery to the Civil War through Reconstruction to Jim Crow. It's more later on, when he started to relate the building of the Tuskegee Institute that something about Washington's style started to grate on me, and much of the account began to be tedious. (Goodness, you wouldn't believe Washington's ode to the toothbrush!) Which is a shame, because as William Andrews noted, this is the story of "a former slave who became the most powerful African-American of this era." He started Tuskegee Institute from a "shanty" and a "hen house" and from it built a great American educational institution. But something felt lacking, absent. Maybe Washington himself. There seemed little introspection or humor or even anything really personal at all in his voice. I get why Andrews feels Washington wore a mask, and it takes close reading and outside information to get it to slip a bit to see the complex man underneath. That's where I did find this Norton Critical Edition, which included essays on Washington, including the famous critique by Du Bois, invaluable. It makes rating this book difficult. I do feel this is worth reading as a piece of history--but as a biography it left me feeling decidedly ambivalent.
    • 5/5
      Booker T. Washington was born into slavery in 1856. He lived as a slave until the end of the civil war in 1865, when his family was freed. He was determined to learn how to read and managed to obtain an education at the Hampton Institute, Virginia. A strong advocate of the importance of education for the black race. Apparently there were tensions between this approach and the more confrontational tone of many others in the black political community, but this is not something that is mentioned specifically in the book. Washington stressed the importance of learning a trade to become an integrated and valued member of society, and worked as an educator for most of his life, heading the Tuskegee Institute, Alabama, from 1881 until his death in 1915.
    • 5/5
      Not only is it a very insightful look at our country's history from a first hand experience, but such a power tool for personal development that I would label this book as a must read for everyone. Adults and kids alike can learn from Washington's reminisces. He shows us how anyone can start at the very bottom and grow into developing themselves into a more cultured, caring and productive member of society. I was deeply impressed by how he noted that the more fortunate members of a society may be severely lacking in will power and determination, and how those factors are much more relevant to one's success than education and wealth. In essence, he is suggesting that we can obtain the latter by having proper personal attributes, but that no matter of wealth and education can ever help a person if he cannot help himself.
    • 3/5
      Obviously written for a specific audience, wealthy, altruistic white people who would help fund Tuskeegee. A great man, a a great idea in its historic time. Should be read along with his contemporaries who presented a more explicit view of slavery in the colonies and later the US, economically founded by that institution.
    • 4/5
      Incredibly inspiring. I'm so glad that I was able to read this! I probably wouldn't have bothered to pick it up, if it wasn't for my college level American History class. It's a shame this isn't mandatory reading!
    • 5/5
      Very interesting and well-written. Booker T. Washington quickly became one of my favorite historical figures as I read this autobiography, and he certainly has my respect. I would've liked to meet him.But this book has made me curious about several things, rather than informing me about them. It seems that Mr. Washington had three wives -- but he never really says much about what happened to any of them. He seems to talk a lot about lots of things, and yet, I don't feel quite as if I know much about him. I guess I'll have to do some more research.
    • 4/5
      Booker T. Washington writes his own story of rising from a slave to being honored with a Harvard distinguished honor degree. His autobiography shares the many struggles he endured as he worked to make Tuskegee University a top college for the education of African Americans when there were no schools for them really. This is a truly touching story. The beginning of the book was very moving and emotional as he speaks of struggling to get an education as an African American boy. Though dry at time, and almost annoyingly optimistic there were some really nice inspirational quotes in the book that I was able to note (highlight and such). I hope to read again and take down a lot more of his positive work ethic.
    • 4/5
      As a historical document, this is an impressive achievement with Washington's regular integration of statistics, news reviews, and speeches, along with his multiple brushes with historical figures such as U.S. Presidents. At the same time, whether a reader is familiar with the questions of the book's history or not, his voice doesn't come across as all-together candid. It feels formed, tailored to the subject and intent instead of the truth. I can't say that I blame the author considering his need to raise funds for projects at Tuskegee, but at the same time, it takes a great deal out of the pleasure I normally find in reading an autobiography. The language is undoubtedly graceful and telling of interesting subjects, but some of the flavor and anecdote I'd normally expect of autobiography just wasn't there. I recommend the autobiography to anyone interested in the raising of institutions, Tuskegee or others, or those interested in Washington himself, but I wouldn't recommend this probably to someone who is just generally an avid reader of autobiography. In the end, I just wanted more--more honesty, more fault, more specifics. It felt as if this was, simply, too perfectly formed and executed toward Washington's purpose of the time, so dating the text on some level.
    • 3/5
      An autobiography of the once popular Washington. Today, he has lost favor. He is judged by today's standards, but during his life, he had little alternative than to promote the black American in the manner he did. He established schools to educate former slaves and to place the graduates in occupations without any resort to violence. A Great American.
    • 4/5
      This book caught my eye because the high school I went to was named for Mr Washington, I'm so glad it did. I loved the chance to learn more about the man and to get a glimpse inside his character. It's a book I know I will wander through again and again.
    • 5/5
      Booker T. Washington published this, his second, autobiography, in 1901 at age 45. It is a fascinating account of his childhood slavery, emancipation, education, and rise to prominence as a college educator and highly acclaimed African American leader. This is one book I had a hard time putting down. It reveals a man deeply committed to helping African Americans in post-Reconstruction America earn respect based on their skillful work and valuable contributions to society. A quote from the book seems to summarize Washington’s personal philosophy: “I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed.” He believed that striving for excellence and working cooperatively with all people, regardless of ethnicity or station, was the key to the black man winning his rightful place in the world.It is recommended reading for those wishing to broaden their understanding of and appreciation for African American history, post-Civil War race relations, or the history of higher education in America. The Penguin Classics edition has an index, endnotes (18 in all), and an interesting introduction by historian and Washington biographer Louis R. Harlan.
    • 4/5
      Articulate, and an incredible story.

      Washington tells of how he worked to become the principal of the Tuskegee Institute for African American people. By sheer force of will and determination, this man managed (not without help) to erect a school especially for black people, in the South, in the late 1800's and early 1900's.

      I love how Washington writes, he's so melodic. I can sense his relief, his sadness, his gratefulness. I loved hearing about him as a teacher because I'm trained as an elementary teacher so I really do feel the love for his students through him.

      Parts of the book were dry because he spoke of donor after donor of people who donated to the school. Which is fine, but it felt almost like a list he had to read off, at times. At others, I felt a genuine note come through in the text.

      He is the American dream incarnate, and he embodies that so much, and I don't know how to feel about that. Of course he succeeded and is using his privilege to lift up others. And it's not as if he hasn't directly faced (and overcome) the obstacles put in front of him by systems not designed for him, but to keep him out.

      He was very mild in his descriptions of the South and rarely referred to any personal slights a racist person might've had against him, only ever referring to the plights of his race as a whole. Which, again, is fine, but it did feel a little as though someone had edited it to be directed towards a milder audience.

      Either that, or Washington is excellent at forgiveness. I suspect it's both.

      The part where he went on holiday for the first time in his 18 years of tireless work nearly made me cry. A book that will stay with me for a long time, and hopefully I will include it in a video to come.
    • 5/5
      Not so much an autobiography as it is a personal journal of his life work as founder and Principal of Tuskegee Institute in Alabama. His struggle to find funding in the early days is fascinating reading, especially when it begins to develop into a secondary career as a much-sought-after international public speaker. It is only a lack of detail re. his personal life aside from vocation that keeps me from rating this work five stars.

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    Up from Slavery - Booker T. Washington

    Up from Slavery

    Booker T. Washington

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    Preface

    This volume is the outgrowth of a series of articles, dealing with incidents in my life, which were published consecutively in the Outlook. While they were appearing in that magazine I was constantly surprised at the number of requests which came to me from all parts of the country, asking that the articles be permanently preserved in book form. I am most grateful to the Outlook for permission to gratify these requests.

    I have tried to tell a simple, straightforward story, with no attempt at embellishment. My regret is that what I have attempted to do has been done so imperfectly. The greater part of my time and strength is required for the executive work connected with the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, and in securing the money necessary for the support of the institution. Much of what I have said has been written on board trains, or at hotels or railroad stations while I have been waiting for trains, or during the moments that I could spare from my work while at Tuskegee. Without the painstaking and generous assistance of Mr. Max Bennett Thrasher I could not have succeeded in any satisfactory degree.

    Chapter I. A Slave Among Slaves

    I was born a slave on a plantation in Franklin County, Virginia. I am not quite sure of the exact place or exact date of my birth, but at any rate I suspect I must have been born somewhere and at some time. As nearly as I have been able to learn, I was born near a cross-roads post-office called Hale’s Ford, and the year was 1858 or 1859. I do not know the month or the day. The earliest impressions I can now recall are of the plantation and the slave quarters—the latter being the part of the plantation where the slaves had their cabins.

    My life had its beginning in the midst of the most miserable, desolate, and discouraging surroundings. This was so, however, not because my owners were especially cruel, for they were not, as compared with many others. I was born in a typical log cabin, about fourteen by sixteen feet square. In this cabin I lived with my mother and a brother and sister till after the Civil War, when we were all declared free.

    Of my ancestry I know almost nothing. In the slave quarters, and even later, I heard whispered conversations among the coloured people of the tortures which the slaves, including, no doubt, my ancestors on my mother’s side, suffered in the middle passage of the slave ship while being conveyed from Africa to America. I have been unsuccessful in securing any information that would throw any accurate light upon the history of my family beyond my mother. She, I remember, had a half-brother and a half-sister. In the days of slavery not very much attention was given to family history and family records—that is, black family records. My mother, I suppose, attracted the attention of a purchaser who was afterward my owner and hers. Her addition to the slave family attracted about as much attention as the purchase of a new horse or cow. Of my father I know even less than of my mother. I do not even know his name. I have heard reports to the effect that he was a white man who lived on one of the near-by plantations. Whoever he was, I never heard of his taking the least interest in me or providing in any way for my rearing. But I do not find especial fault with him. He was simply another unfortunate victim of the institution which the Nation unhappily had engrafted upon it at that time.

    The cabin was not only our living-place, but was also used as the kitchen for the plantation. My mother was the plantation cook. The cabin was without glass windows; it had only openings in the side which let in the light, and also the cold, chilly air of winter. There was a door to the cabin—that is, something that was called a door—but the uncertain hinges by which it was hung, and the large cracks in it, to say nothing of the fact that it was too small, made the room a very uncomfortable one. In addition to these openings there was, in the lower right-hand corner of the room, the cat-hole,—a contrivance which almost every mansion or cabin in Virginia possessed during the ante-bellum period. The cat-hole was a square opening, about seven by eight inches, provided for the purpose of letting the cat pass in and out of the house at will during the night. In the case of our particular cabin I could never understand the necessity for this convenience, since there were at least a half-dozen other places in the cabin that would have accommodated the cats. There was no wooden floor in our cabin, the naked earth being used as a floor. In the centre of the earthen floor there was a large, deep opening covered with boards, which was used as a place in which to store sweet potatoes during the winter. An impression of this potato-hole is very distinctly engraved upon my memory, because I recall that during the process of putting the potatoes in or taking them out I would often come into possession of one or two, which I roasted and thoroughly enjoyed. There was no cooking-stove on our plantation, and all the cooking for the whites and slaves my mother had to do over an open fireplace, mostly in pots and skillets. While the poorly built cabin caused us to suffer with cold in the winter, the heat from the open fireplace in summer was equally trying.

    The early years of my life, which were spent in the little cabin, were not very different from those of thousands of other slaves. My mother, of course, had little time in which to give attention to the training of her children during the day. She snatched a few moments for our care in the early morning before her work began, and at night after the day’s work was done. One of my earliest recollections is that of my mother cooking a chicken late at night, and awakening her children for the purpose of feeding them. How or where she got it I do not know. I presume, however, it was procured from our owner’s farm. Some people may call this theft. If such a thing were to happen now, I should condemn it as theft myself. But taking place at the time it did, and for the reason that it did, no one could ever make me believe that my mother was guilty of thieving. She was simply a victim of the system of slavery. I cannot remember having slept in a bed until after our family was declared free by the Emancipation Proclamation. Three children—John, my older brother, Amanda, my sister, and myself—had a pallet on the dirt floor, or, to be more correct, we slept in and on a bundle of filthy rags laid upon the dirt floor.

    I was asked not long ago to tell something about the sports and pastimes that I engaged in during my youth. Until that question was asked it had never occurred to me that there was no period of my life that was devoted to play. From the time that I can remember anything, almost every day of my life had been occupied in some kind of labour; though I think I would now be a more useful man if I had had time for sports. During the period that I spent in slavery I was not large enough to be of much service, still I was occupied most of the time in cleaning the yards, carrying water to the men in the fields, or going to the mill to which I used to take the corn, once a week, to be ground. The mill was about three miles from the plantation. This work I always dreaded. The heavy bag of corn would be thrown across the back of the horse, and the corn divided about evenly on each side; but in some way, almost without exception, on these trips, the corn would so shift as to become unbalanced and would fall off the horse, and often I would fall with it. As I was not strong enough to reload the corn upon the horse, I would have to wait, sometimes for many hours, till a chance passer-by came along who would help me out of my trouble. The hours while waiting for some one were usually spent in crying. The time consumed in this way made me late in reaching the mill, and by the time I got my corn ground and reached home it would be far into the night. The road was a lonely one, and often led through dense forests. I was always frightened. The woods were said to be full of soldiers who had deserted from the army, and I had been told that the first thing a deserter did to a Negro boy when he found him alone was to cut off his ears. Besides, when I was late in getting home I knew I would always get a severe scolding or a flogging.

    I had no schooling whatever while I was a slave, though I remember on several occasions I went as far as the schoolhouse door with one of my young mistresses to carry her books. The picture of several dozen boys and girls in a schoolroom engaged in study made a deep impression upon me, and I had the feeling that to get into a schoolhouse and study in this way would be about the same as getting into paradise.

    So far as I can now recall, the first knowledge that I got of the fact that we were slaves, and that freedom of the slaves was being discussed, was early one morning before day, when I was awakened by my mother kneeling over her children and fervently praying that Lincoln and his armies might be successful, and that one day she and her children might be free. In this connection I have never been able to understand how the slaves throughout the South, completely ignorant as were the masses so far as books or newspapers were concerned, were able to keep themselves so accurately and completely informed about the great National questions that were agitating the country. From the time that Garrison, Lovejoy, and others began to agitate for freedom, the slaves throughout the South kept in close touch with the progress of the movement. Though I was a mere child during the preparation for the Civil War and during the war itself, I now recall the many late-at-night whispered discussions that I heard my mother and the other slaves on the plantation indulge in. These discussions showed that they understood the situation, and that they kept themselves informed of events by what was termed the grape-vine telegraph.

    During the campaign when Lincoln was first a candidate for the Presidency, the slaves on our far-off plantation, miles from any railroad or large city or daily newspaper, knew what the issues involved were. When war was begun between the North and the South, every slave on our plantation felt and knew that, though other issues were discussed, the primal one was that of slavery. Even the most ignorant members of my race on the remote plantations felt in their hearts, with a certainty that admitted of no doubt, that the freedom of the slaves would be the one great result of the war, if the northern armies conquered. Every success of the Federal armies and every defeat of the Confederate forces was watched with the keenest and most intense interest. Often the slaves got knowledge of the results of great battles before the white people received it. This news was usually gotten from the coloured man who was sent to the post-office for the mail. In our case the post-office was about three miles from the plantation, and the mail came once or twice a week. The man who was sent to the office would linger about the place long enough to get the drift of the conversation from the group of white people who naturally congregated there, after receiving their mail, to discuss the latest news. The mail-carrier on his way back to our master’s house would as naturally retail the news that he had secured among the slaves, and in this way they often heard of important events before the white people at the big house, as the master’s house was called.

    I cannot remember a single instance during my childhood or early boyhood when our entire family sat down to the table together, and God’s blessing was asked, and the family ate a meal in a civilized manner. On the plantation in Virginia, and even later, meals were gotten by the children very much as dumb animals get theirs. It was a piece of bread here and a scrap of meat there. It was a cup of milk at one time and some potatoes at another. Sometimes a portion of our family would eat out of the skillet or pot, while some one else would eat from a tin plate held on the knees, and often using nothing but the hands with which to hold the food. When I had grown to sufficient size, I was required to go to the big house at meal-times to fan the flies from the table by means of a large set of paper fans operated by a pulley. Naturally much of the conversation of the white people turned upon the subject of freedom and the war, and I absorbed a good deal of it. I remember that at one time I saw two of my young mistresses and some lady visitors eating ginger-cakes, in the yard. At that time those cakes seemed to me to be absolutely the most tempting and desirable things that I had ever seen; and I then and there resolved that, if I ever got free, the height of my ambition would be reached if I could get to the point where I could secure and eat ginger-cakes in the way that I saw those ladies doing.

    Of course as the war was prolonged the white people, in many cases, often found it difficult to secure food for themselves. I think the slaves felt the deprivation less than the whites, because the usual diet for slaves was corn bread and pork, and these could be raised on the plantation; but coffee, tea, sugar, and other articles which the whites had been accustomed to use could not be raised on the plantation, and the conditions brought about by the war frequently made it impossible to secure these things. The whites were often in great straits. Parched corn was used for coffee, and a kind of black molasses was used instead of sugar. Many times nothing was used to sweeten the so-called tea and coffee.

    The first pair of shoes that I recall wearing were wooden ones. They had rough leather on the top, but the bottoms, which were about an inch thick, were of wood. When I walked they made a fearful noise, and besides this they were very inconvenient, since there was no yielding to the natural pressure of the foot. In wearing them one presented and exceedingly awkward appearance. The most trying ordeal that I was forced to endure as a slave boy, however, was the wearing of a flax shirt. In the portion of Virginia where I lived it was common to use flax as part of the clothing for the slaves. That part of the flax from which our clothing was made was largely the refuse, which of course was the cheapest and roughest part. I can scarcely imagine any torture, except, perhaps, the pulling of a tooth, that is equal to that caused by putting on a new flax shirt for the first time. It is almost equal to the feeling that one would experience if he had a dozen or more chestnut burrs, or a hundred small pin-points, in contact with his flesh. Even to this day I can recall accurately the tortures that I underwent when putting on one of these garments. The fact that my flesh was soft and tender added to the pain. But I had no choice. I had to wear the flax shirt or none; and had it been left to me to choose, I should have chosen to wear no covering. In connection with the flax shirt, my brother John, who is several years older than I am, performed one of the most generous acts that I ever heard of one slave relative doing for another. On several occasions when I was being forced to wear a new flax shirt, he generously agreed to put it on in my stead and wear it for several days, till it was broken in. Until I had grown to be quite a youth this single garment was all that I wore.

    One may get the idea, from what I have said, that there was bitter feeling toward the white people on the part of my race, because of the fact that most of the white population was away fighting in a war which would result in keeping the Negro in slavery if the South was successful. In the case of the slaves on our place this was not true, and it was not true of any large portion of the slave population in the South where the Negro was treated with anything like decency. During the Civil War one of my young masters was killed, and two were severely wounded. I recall the feeling of sorrow which existed among the slaves when they heard of the death of Mars’ Billy. It was no sham sorrow, but real. Some of the slaves had nursed Mars’ Billy; others had played with him when he was a child. Mars’ Billy had begged for mercy in the case of others when the overseer or master was thrashing them. The sorrow in the slave quarter was only second to that in the big house. When the two young masters were brought home wounded, the sympathy of the slaves was shown in many ways. They were just as anxious to assist in the nursing as the family relatives of the wounded. Some of the slaves would even beg for the privilege of sitting up at night to nurse their wounded masters. This tenderness and sympathy on the part of those held in bondage was a result of their kindly and generous nature. In order to defend and protect the women and children who were left on the plantations when the white males went to war, the slaves would have laid down their lives. The slave who was selected to sleep in the big house during the absence of the males was considered to have the place of honour. Any one attempting to harm young Mistress or old Mistress during the night would have had to cross the dead body of the slave to do so. I do not know how many have noticed it, but I think that it will be found to be true that there are few instances, either in slavery or freedom, in which a member of my race has been known to betray a specific trust.

    As a rule, not only did the members of my race entertain no feelings of bitterness against the whites before and during the war, but there are many instances of Negroes tenderly caring for their former masters and mistresses who for some reason have become poor and dependent since the war. I know of instances where the former masters of slaves have for years been supplied with money by their former slaves to keep them from suffering. I have known of still other cases in which the former slaves have assisted in the education of the descendants of their former owners. I know of a case on a large plantation in the South in which a young white man, the son of the former owner of the estate, has become so reduced in purse and self-control by reason of drink that he is a pitiable creature; and yet, notwithstanding the poverty of the coloured people themselves on this plantation, they have for years supplied this young white man with the necessities of life. One sends him a little coffee or sugar, another a little meat, and so on. Nothing that the coloured people possess is too good for the son of old Mars’ Tom, who will perhaps never be permitted to suffer while any remain on the place who knew directly or indirectly of old Mars’ Tom.

    I have said that there are few instances of a member of my race betraying a specific trust. One of the best illustrations of this which I know of is in the case of an ex-slave from Virginia whom I met not long ago in a little town in the state of Ohio. I found that this man had made a contract with his master, two or three years previous to the Emancipation Proclamation, to the effect that the slave was to be permitted to buy himself, by paying so much per year for his body; and while he was paying for himself, he was to be permitted to labour where and for whom he pleased. Finding that he could secure better wages in Ohio, he went there. When freedom came, he was still in debt to his master some three hundred dollars. Notwithstanding that the Emancipation Proclamation freed him from any obligation to his master, this black man walked the greater portion of the distance back to where his old master lived in Virginia, and placed the last dollar, with interest, in his hands. In talking to me about this, the man told me that he knew that he

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