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Chapter XVI. Europe
In 1893 I was married to Miss Margaret James Murray, a native of
Mississippi, and a graduate of Fisk University, in Nashville,
Tenn., who had come to Tuskegee as a teacher several years
before, and at the time we were married was filling the position
of Lady Principal. Not only is Mrs. Washington completely one
with me in the work directly connected with the school, relieving
me of many burdens and perplexities, but aside from her work on
the school grounds, she carries on a mothers' meeting in the town
of Tuskegee, and a plantation work among the women, children, and
men who live in a settlement connected with a large plantation
about eight miles from Tuskegee. Both the mothers' meeting and
the plantation work are carried on, not only with a view to
helping those who are directly reached, but also for the purpose
of furnishing object-lessons in these two kinds of work that may
be followed by our students when they go out into the world for
their own life-work.
Aside from these two enterprises, Mrs. Washington is also largely
responsible for a woman's club at the school which brings
together, twice a month, the women who live on the school grounds
and those who live near, for the discussion of some important
topic. She is also the President of what is known as the
Federation of Southern Coloured Women's Clubs, and is Chairman of
the Executive Committee of the National Federation of Coloured
Women's Clubs.
Portia, the oldest of my three children, has learned dressmaking.
She has unusual ability in instrumental music. Aside from her
studies at Tuskegee, she has already begun to teach there.
Booker Taliaferro is my next oldest child. Young as he is, he has
already nearly mastered the brickmason's trade. He began working
at this trade when he was quite small, dividing his time between
this and class work; and he has developed great skill in the
trade and a fondness for it. He says that he is going to be an
architect and brickmason. One of the most satisfactory letters
that I have ever received from any one came to me from Booker
last summer. When I left home for the summer, I told him that he
must work at his trade half of each day, and that the other half
of the day he could spend as he pleased. When I had been away
from home two weeks, I received the following letter from him:
Tuskegee, Alabama.
My dear Papa: Before you left home you told me to work at my
trade half of each day. I like my work so much that I want to
work at my trade all day. Besides, I want to earn all the money I
can, so that when I go to another school I shall have money to
pay my expenses.
Your son,
Booker.
My youngest child, Earnest Davidson Washington, says that he is
going to be a physician. In addition to going to school, where he
studies books and has manual training, he regularly spends a
portion of his time in the office of our resident physician, and
has already learned to do many of the studies which pertain to a
doctor's office.
The thing in my life which brings me the keenest regret is that
my work in connection with public affairs keeps me for so much of
the time away from my family, where, of all places in the world,
I delight to be. I always envy the individual whose life-work is
so laid that he can spend his evenings at home. I have sometimes
thought that people who have this rare privilege do not
appreciate it as they should. It is such a rest and relief to get
away from crowds of people, and handshaking, and travelling, to
get home, even if it be for but a very brief while.
Another thing at Tuskegee out of which I get a great deal of
pleasure and satisfaction is in the meeting with our students,
and teachers, and their families, in the chapel for devotional
exercises every evening at half-past eight, the last thing before
retiring for the night. It is an inspiring sight when one stands
on the platform there and sees before him eleven or twelve
hundred earnest young men and women; and one cannot but feel that
it is a privilege to help to guide them to a higher and more
useful life.
In the spring of 1899 there came to me what I might describe as
almost the greatest surprise of my life. Some good ladies in
Boston arranged a public meeting in the interests of Tuskegee, to
be held in the Hollis Street Theatre. This meeting was attended
by large numbers of the best people of Boston, of both races.
Bishop Lawrence presided. In addition to an address made by
myself, Mr. Paul Lawrence Dunbar read from his poems, and Dr.
W.E.B. Du Bois read an original sketch.
Some of those who attended this meeting noticed that I seemed
unusually tired, and some little time after the close of the
meeting, one of the ladies who had been interested in it asked me
in a casual way if I had ever been to Europe. I replied that I
never had. She asked me if I had ever thought of going, and I
told her no; that it was something entirely beyond me. This
conversation soon passed out of my mind, but a few days afterward
I was informed that some friends in Boston, including Mr. Francis
-
Garrison, had raised a sum of money sufficient to pay all the
expenses of Mrs. Washington and myself during a three or four
months' trip to Europe. It was added with emphasis that we MUST
go. A year previous to this Mr. Garrison had attempted to get me
to promise to go to Europe for a summer's rest, with the
understanding that he would be responsible for raising the money
among his friends for the expenses of the trip. At that time such
a journey seemed so entirely foreign to anything that I should
ever be able to undertake that I did confess I did not give the
matter very serious attention; but later Mr. Garrison joined his
efforts to those of the ladies whom I have mentioned, and when
their plans were made known to me Mr. Garrison not only had the
route mapped out, but had, I believe, selected the steamer upon
which we were to sail.
The whole thing was so sudden and so unexpected that I was
completely taken off my feet. I had been at work steadily for
eighteen years in connection with Tuskegee, and I had never
thought of anything else but ending my life in that way. Each day
the school seemed to depend upon me more largely for its daily
expenses, and I told these Boston friends that, while I thanked
them sincerely for their thoughtfulness and generosity, I could
not go to Europe, for the reason that the school could not live
financially while I was absent. They then informed me that Mr.
Henry L. Higginson, and some other good friends who I know do not
want their names made public, were then raising a sum of money
which would be sufficient to keep the school in operation while I
was away. At this point I was compelled to surrender. Every
avenue of escape had been closed.
Deep down in my heart the whole thing seemed more like a dream
than like reality, and for a long time it was difficult for me to
make myself believe that I was actually going to Europe. I had
been born and largely reared in the lowest depths of slavery,
ignorance, and poverty. In my childhood I had suffered for want
of a place to sleep, for lack of food, clothing, and shelter. I
had not had the privilege of sitting down to a dining-table until
I was quite well grown. Luxuries had always seemed to me to be
something meant for white people, not for my race. I had always
regarded Europe, and London, and Paris, much as I regarded
heaven. And now could it be that I was actually going to Europe?
Such thoughts as these were constantly with me.
Two other thoughts troubled me a good deal. I feared that people
who heard that Mrs. Washington and I were going to Europe might
not know all the circumstances, and might get the idea that we
had become, as some might say, "stuck up," and were trying to
"show off." I recalled that from my youth I had heard it said
that too often, when people of my race reached any degree of
success, they were inclined to unduly exalt themselves; to try
and ape the wealthy, and in so doing to lose their heads. The
fear that people might think this of us haunted me a good deal.
Then, too, I could not see how my conscience would permit me to
spare the time from my work and be happy. It seemed mean and
selfish in me to be taking a vacation while others were at work,
and while there was so much that needed to be done. From the time
I could remember, I had always been at work, and I did not see
how I could spend three or four months in doing nothing. The fact
was that I did not know how to take a vacation.
Mrs. Washington had much the same difficulty in getting away, but
she was anxious to go because she thought that I needed the rest.
There were many important National questions bearing upon the
life of the race which were being agitated at that time, and this
made it all the harder for us to decide to go. We finally gave
our Boston friends our promise that we would go, and then they
insisted that the date of our departure be set as soon as
possible. So we decided upon May 10. My good friend Mr. Garrison
kindly took charge of all the details necessary for the success
of the trip, and he, as well as other friends, gave us a great
number of letters of introduction to people in France and
England, and made other arrangements for our comfort and
convenience abroad. Good-bys were said at Tuskegee, and we were
in New York May 9, ready to sail the next day. Our daughter
Portia, who was then studying in South Framingham, Mass., came to
New York to see us off. Mr. Scott, my secretary, came with me to
New York, in order that I might clear up the last bit of business
before I left. Other friends also came to New York to see us off.
Just before we went on board the steamer another pleasant
surprise came to us in the form of a letter from two generous
ladies, stating that they had decided to give us the money with
which to erect a new building to be used in properly housing all
our industries for girls at Tuskegee.
We were to sail on the Friesland, of the Red Star Line, and a
beautiful vessel she was. We went on board just before noon, the
hour of sailing. I had never before been on board a large ocean
steamer, and the feeling which took possession of me when I found
myself there is rather hard to describe. It was a feeling, I
think, of awe mingled with delight. We were agreeably surprised
to find that the captain, as well as several of the other
officers, not only knew who we were, but was expecting us and
gave us a pleasant greeting. There were several passengers whom
we knew, including Senator Sewell, of New Jersey, and Edward
Marshall, the newspaper correspondent. I had just a little fear
that we would not be treated civilly by some of the passengers.
This fear was based upon what I had heard other people of my
race, who had crossed the ocean, say about unpleasant experiences
in crossing the ocean in American vessels. But in our case, from
the captain down to the most humble servant, we were treated with
the greatest kindness. Nor was this kindness confined to those
who were connected with the steamer; it was shown by all the
passengers also. There were not a few Southern men and women on
board, and they were as cordial as those from other parts of the
country.
As soon as the last good-bys were said, and the steamer had cut
loose from the wharf, the load of care, anxiety, and
responsibility which I had carried for eighteen years began to
lift itself from my shoulders at the rate, it seemed to me, of a
pound a minute. It was the first time in all those years that I
had felt, even in a measure, free from care; and my feeling of
relief it is hard to describe on paper. Added to this was the
delightful anticipation of being in Europe soon. It all seemed
more like a dream than like a reality.
Mr. Garrison had thoughtfully arranged to have us have one of the
most comfortable rooms on the ship. The second or third day out I
began to sleep, and I think that I slept at the rate of fifteen
hours a day during the remainder of the ten days' passage. Then
it was that I began to understand how tired I really was. These
long sleeps I kept up for a month after we landed on the other
side. It was such an unusual feeling to wake up in the morning
and realize that I had no engagements; did not have to take a
train at a certain hour; did not have an appointment to meet some
one, or to make an address, at a certain hour. How different all
this was from the experiences that I have been through when
travelling, when I have sometimes slept in three different beds
in a single night!
When Sunday came, the captain invited me to conduct the religious
services, but, not being a minister, I declined. The passengers,
however, began making requests that I deliver an address to them
in the dining-saloon some time during the voyage, and this I
consented to do. Senator Sewell presided at this meeting. After
ten days of delightful weather, during which I was not seasick
for a day, we landed at the interesting old city of Antwerp, in
Belgium.
The next day after we landed happened to be one of those
numberless holidays which the people of those countries are in
the habit of observing. It was a bright, beautiful day. Our room
in the hotel faced the main public square, and the sights
there--the people coming in from the country with all kinds of
beautiful flowers to sell, the women coming in with their dogs
drawing large, brightly polished cans filled with milk, the
people streaming into the cathedral--filled me with a sense of
newness that I had never before experienced.
After spending some time in Antwerp, we were invited to go with a
part of a half-dozen persons on a trip through Holland. This
party included Edward Marshall and some American artists who had
come over on the same steamer with us. We accepted the
invitation, and enjoyed the trip greatly. I think it was all the
more interesting and instructive because we went for most of the
way on one of the slow, old-fashioned canal-boats. This gave us
an opportunity of seeing and studying the real life of the people
in the country districts. We went in this way as far as
Rotterdam, and later went to The Hague, where the Peace
Conference was then in session, and where we were kindly received
by the American representatives.
The thing that impressed itself most on me in Holland was the
thoroughness of the agriculture and the excellence of the
Holstein cattle. I never knew, before visiting Holland, how much
it was possible for people to get out of a small plot of ground.
It seemed to me that absolutely no land was wasted. It was worth
a trip to Holland, too, just to get a sight of three or four
hundred fine Holstein cows grazing in one of those intensely
green fields.
From Holland we went to Belgium, and made a hasty trip through
that country, stopping at Brussels, where we visited the
battlefield of Waterloo. From Belgium we went direct to Paris,
where we found that Mr. Theodore Stanton, the son of Mrs.
Elizabeth Cady Stanton, had kindly provided accommodations for
us. We had barely got settled in Paris before an invitation came
to me from the University Club of Paris to be its guest at a
banquet which was soon to be given. The other guests were
ex-President Benjamin Harrison and Archbishop Ireland, who were
in Paris at the time. The American Ambassador, General Horace
Porter, presided at the banquet. My address on this occasion
seemed to give satisfaction to those who heard it. General
Harrison kindly devoted a large portion of his remarks at dinner
to myself and to the influence of the work at Tuskegee on the
American race question. After my address at this banquet other
invitations came to me, but I declined the most of them, knowing
that if I accepted them all, the object of my visit would be
defeated. I did, however, consent to deliver an address in the
American chapel the following Sunday morning, and at this meeting
General Harrison, General Porter, and other distinguished
Americans were present.
Later we received a formal call from the American Ambassador, and
were invited to attend a reception at his residence. At this
reception we met many Americans, among them Justices Fuller and
Harlan, of the United States Supreme Court. During our entire
stay of a month in Paris, both the American Ambassador and his
wife, as well as several other Americans, were very kind to us.
While in Paris we saw a good deal of the now famous American
Negro painter, Mr. Henry O. Tanner, whom we had formerly known in
America. It was very satisfactory to find how well known Mr.
Tanner was in the field of art, and to note the high standing
which all classes accorded to him. When we told some Americans
that we were going to the Luxembourg Palace to see a painting by
an American Negro, it was hard to convince them that a Negro had
been thus honoured. I do not believe that they were really
convinced of the fact until they saw the picture for themselves.
My acquaintance with Mr. Tanner reenforced in my mind the truth
which I am constantly trying to impress upon our students at
Tuskegee--and on our people throughout the country, as far as I
can reach them with my voice--that any man, regardless of colour,
will be recognized and rewarded just in proportion as he learns
to do something well--learns to do it better than some one
else--however humble the thing may be. As I have said, I believe
that my race will succeed in proportion as it learns to do a
common thing in an uncommon manner; learns to do a thing so
thoroughly that no one can improve upon what it has done; learns
to make its services of indispensable value. This was the spirit
that inspired me in my first effort at Hampton, when I was given
the opportunity to sweep and dust that schoolroom. In a degree I
felt that my whole future life depended upon the thoroughness
with which I cleaned that room, and I was determined to do it so
well that no one could find any fault with the job. Few people
ever stopped, I found, when looking at his pictures, to inquire
whether Mr. Tanner was a Negro painter, a French painter, or a
German painter. They simply knew that he was able to produce
something which the world wanted--a great painting--and the
matter of his colour did not enter into their minds. When a Negro
girl learns to cook, to wash dishes, to sew, or write a book, or
a Negro boy learns to groom horses, or to grow sweet potatoes, or
to produce butter, or to build a house, or to be able to practise
medicine, as well or better than some one else, they will be
rewarded regardless of race or colour. In the long run, the world
is going to have the best, and any difference in race, religion,
or previous history will not long keep the world from what it
wants.
I think that the whole future of my race hinges on the question
as to whether or not it can make itself of such indispensible
value that the people in the town and the state where we reside
will feel that our presence is necessary to the happiness and
well-being of the community. No man who continues to add
something to the material, intellectual, and moral well-being of
the place in which he lives is long left without proper reward.
This is a great human law which cannot be permanently nullified.
The love of pleasure and excitement which seems in a large
measure to possess the French people impressed itself upon me. I
think they are more noted in this respect than is true of the
people of my own race. In point of morality and moral earnestness
I do not believe that the French are ahead of my own race in
America. Severe competition and the great stress of life have led
them to learn to do things more thoroughly and to exercise
greater economy; but time, I think, will bring my race to the
same point. In the matter of truth and high honour I do not
believe that the average Frenchman is ahead of the American
Negro; while so far as mercy and kindness to dumb animals go, I
believe that my race is far ahead. In fact, when I left France, I
had more faith in the future of the black man in America than I
had ever possessed.
From Paris we went to London, and reached there early in July,
just about the height of the London social season. Parliament was
in session, and there was a great deal of gaiety. Mr. Garrison
and other friends had provided us with a large number of letters
of introduction, and they had also sent letters to other persons
in different parts of the United Kingdom, apprising these people
of our coming. Very soon after reaching London we were flooded
with invitations to attend all manner of social functions, and a
great many invitations came to me asking that I deliver public
addresses. The most of these invitations I declined, for the
reason that I wanted to rest. Neither were we able to accept more
than a small proportion of the other invitations. The Rev. Dr.
Brooke Herford and Mrs. Herford, whom I had known in Boston,
consulted with the American Ambassador, the Hon. Joseph Choate,
and arranged for me to speak at a public meeting to be held in
Essex Hall. Mr. Choate kindly consented to preside. The meeting
was largely attended. There were many distinguished persons
present, among them several members of Parliament, including Mr.
James Bryce, who spoke at the meeting. What the American
Ambassador said in introducing me, as well as a synopsis of what
I said, was widely published in England and in the American
papers at the time. Dr. and Mrs. Herford gave Mrs. Washington and
myself a reception, at which we had the privilege of meeting some
of the best people in England. Throughout our stay in London
Ambassador Choate was most kind and attentive to us. At the
Ambassador's reception I met, for the first time, Mark Twain.
We were the guests several times of Mrs. T. Fisher Unwin, the
daughter of the English statesman, Richard Cobden. It seemed as
if both Mr. and Mrs. Unwin could not do enough for our comfort
and happiness. Later, for nearly a week, we were the guests of
the daughter of John Bright, now Mrs. Clark, of Street, England.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Clark, with their daughter, visited us at
Tuskegee the next year. In Birmingham, England, we were the
guests for several days of Mr. Joseph Sturge, whose father was a
great abolitionist and friend of Whittier and Garrison. It was a
great privilege to meet throughout England those who had known
and honoured the late William Lloyd Garrison, the Hon. Frederick
Douglass, and other abolitionists. The English abolitionists with
whom we came in contact never seemed to tire of talking about
these two Americans. Before going to England I had had no proper
conception of the deep interest displayed by the abolitionists of
England in the cause of freedom, nor did I realize the amount of
substantial help given by them.
In Bristol, England, both Mrs. Washington and I spoke at the
Women's Liberal Club. I was also the principal speaker at the
Commencement exercises of the Royal College for the Blind. These
exercises were held in the Crystal Palace, and the presiding
officer was the late Duke of Westminster, who was said to be, I
believe, the richest man in England, if not in the world. The
Duke, as well as his wife and their daughter, seemed to be
pleased with what I said, and thanked me heartily. Through the
kindness of Lady Aberdeen, my wife and I were enabled to go with
a party of those who were attending the International Congress of
Women, then in session in London, to see Queen Victoria, at
Windsor Castle, where, afterward, we were all the guests of her
Majesty at tea. In our party was Miss Susan B. Anthony, and I was
deeply impressed with the fact that one did not often get an
opportunity to see, during the same hour, two women so remarkable
in different ways as Susan B. Anthony and Queen Victoria.
In the House of Commons, which we visited several times, we met
Sir Henry M. Stanley. I talked with him about Africa and its
relation to the American Negro, and after my interview with him I
became more convinced than ever that there was no hope of the
American Negro's improving his condition by emigrating to Africa.
On various occasions Mrs. Washington and I were the guests of
Englishmen in their country homes, where, I think, one sees the
Englishman at his best. In one thing, at least, I feel sure that
the English are ahead of Americans, and that is, that they have
learned how to get more out of life. The home life of the English
seems to me to be about as perfect as anything can be. Everything
moves like clockwork. I was impressed, too, with the deference
that the servants show to their "masters" and
"mistresses,"--terms which I suppose would not be tolerated in
America. The English servant expects, as a rule, to be nothing
but a servant, and so he perfects himself in the art to a degree
that no class of servants in America has yet reached. In our
country the servant expects to become, in a few years, a "master"
himself. Which system is preferable? I will not venture an
answer.
Another thing that impressed itself upon me throughout England
was the high regard that all classes have for law and order, and
the ease and thoroughness with which everything is done. The
Englishmen, I found, took plenty of time for eating, as for
everything else. I am not sure if, in the long run, they do not
accomplish as much or more than rushing, nervous Americans do.
My visit to England gave me a higher regard for the nobility than
I had had. I had no idea that they were so generally loved and
respected by the classes, nor that I any correct conception of
how much time and money they spent in works of philanthropy, and
how much real heart they put into this work. My impression had
been that they merely spent money freely and had a "good time."
It was hard for me to get accustomed to speaking to English
audiences. The average Englishman is so serious, and is so
tremendously in earnest about everything, that when I told a
story that would have made an American audience roar with
laughter, the Englishmen simply looked me straight in the face
without even cracking a smile.
When the Englishman takes you into his heart and friendship, he
binds you there as with cords of steel, and I do not believe that
there are many other friendships that are so lasting or so
satisfactory. Perhaps I can illustrate this point in no better
way than by relating the following incident. Mrs. Washington and
I were invited to attend a reception given by the Duke and
Duchess of Sutherland, at Stafford House--said to be the finest
house in London; I may add that I believe the Duchess of
Sutherland is said to be the most beautiful woman in England.
There must have been at least three hundred persons at this
reception. Twice during the evening the Duchess sought us out for
a conversation, and she asked me to write her when we got home,
and tell her more about the work at Tuskegee. This I did. When
Christmas came we were surprised and delighted to receive her
photograph with her autograph on it. The correspondence has
continued, and we now feel that in the Duchess of Sutherland we
have one of our warmest friends.
After three months in Europe we sailed from Southampton in the
steamship St. Louis. On this steamer there was a fine library
that had been presented to the ship by the citizens of St. Louis,
Mo. In this library I found a life of Frederick Douglass, which I
began reading. I became especially interested in Mr. Douglass's
description of the way he was treated on shipboard during his
first or second visit to England. In this description he told how
he was not permitted to enter the cabin, but had to confine
himself to the deck of the ship. A few minutes after I had
finished reading this description I was waited on by a committee
of ladies and gentlemen with the request that I deliver an
address at a concert which was to begin the following evening.
And yet there are people who are bold enough to say that race
feeling in America is not growing less intense! At this concert
the Hon. Benjamin B. Odell, Jr., the present governor of New
York, presided. I was never given a more cordial hearing
anywhere. A large proportion of the passengers with Southern
people. After the concert some of the passengers proposed that a
subscription be raised to help the work at Tuskegee, and the
money to support several scholarships was the result.
While we were in Paris I was very pleasantly surprised to receive
the following invitation from the citizens of West Virginia and
of the city near which I had spent my boyhood days:--
Charleston, W. Va., May 16, 1899.
Professor Booker T. Washington, Paris, France:
Dear Sir: Many of the best citizens of West Virginia have united
in liberal expressions of admiration and praise of your worth and
work, and desire that on your return from Europe you should
favour them with your presence and with the inspiration of your
words. We must sincerely indorse this move, and on behalf of the
citizens of Charleston extend to your our most cordial invitation
to have you come to us, that we may honour you who have done so
much by your life and work to honour us.
We are,
Very truly yours,
The Common Council of the City of Charleston,
By W. Herman Smith, Mayor.
This invitation from the City Council of Charleston was
accompanied by the following:--
Professor Booker T. Washington, Paris, France:
Dear Sir: We, the citizens of Charleston and West Virginia,
desire to express our pride in you and the splendid career that
you have thus far accomplished, and ask that we be permitted to
show our pride and interest in a substantial way.
Your recent visit to your old home in our midst awoke within us
the keenest regret that we were not permitted to hear you and
render some substantial aid to your work, before you left for
Europe.
In view of the foregoing, we earnestly invite you to share the
hospitality of our city upon your return from Europe, and give us
the opportunity to hear you and put ourselves in touch with your
work in a way that will be most gratifying to yourself, and that
we may receive the inspiration of your words and presence.
An early reply to this invitation, with an indication of the time
you may reach our city, will greatly oblige,
Yours very respectfully,
The Charleston Daily Gazette, The Daily Mail-Tribune; G.W.
Atkinson, Governor; E.L. Boggs, Secretary to Governor; Wm. M.O.
Dawson, Secretary of State; L.M. La Follette, Auditor; J.R.
Trotter, Superintendent of Schools; E.W. Wilson, ex-Governor;
W.A. MacCorkle, ex-Governor; John Q. Dickinson, President Kanawha
Valley Bank; L. Prichard, President Charleston National Bank;
Geo. S. Couch, President Kanawha National Bank; Ed. Reid, Cashier
Kanawha National Bank; Geo. S. Laidley, Superintended City
Schools; L.E. McWhorter, President Board of Education; Chas. K.
Payne, wholesale merchant; and many others.
This invitation, coming as it did from the City Council, the
state officers, and all the substantial citizens of both races of
the community where I had spent my boyhood, and from which I had
gone a few years before, unknown, in poverty and ignorance, in
quest of an education, not only surprised me, but almost unmanned
me. I could not understand what I had done to deserve it all.
I accepted the invitation, and at the appointed day was met at
the railway station at Charleston by a committee headed by
ex-Governor W.A. MacCorkle, and composed of men of both races.
The public reception was held in the Opera-House at Charleston.
The Governor of the state, the Hon. George W. Atkinson, presided,
and an address of welcome was made by ex-Governor MacCorkle. A
prominent part in the reception was taken by the coloured
citizens. The Opera-House was filled with citizens of both races,
and among the white people were many for whom I had worked when I
was a boy. The next day Governor and Mrs. Atkinson gave me a
public reception at the State House, which was attended by all
classes.
Not long after this the coloured people in Atlanta, Georgia, gave
me a reception at which the Governor of the state presided, and a
similar reception was given me in New Orleans, which was presided
over by the Mayor of the city. Invitations came from many other
places which I was not able to accept.
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