Finding a way out : an autobiography

Preface

The story that is recorded here is written only at the repeated and urgent solicitation of those of my friends who have known me best, and have insisted that the telling of it would serve a useful purpose, especially at this time, in helping to a clearer understanding of the hopes and aspirations of my own people and the difficulties which they have overcome in making the progress of the last fifty years which has been so frequently described as "the most remarkable of any race in so short a time.

There is no other justification, I am sure, for telling a story that is so simple and lacks so many of those elements which compel interest and hold attention. As a matter of fact, I do not believe it to be very different in its main outline from the story of hundreds and perhaps thousands of other coloured men who have found their way out of the vi PREFACE

difficulties which face the average Negro youth in the midst of American Hfe.

I have tried to record the events that have given character and colour to my own life, and at the same time to reflect the impressions made upon my mind by experiences that I could not always reconcile with what I had learned of American ideals and standards. In doing this I have also found the opportunity to acknowledge the kindly advice and help that have come to me from hundreds of friends among men and women of both races and sections, and of every walk in life.

Whatever of labour and pains may have gone into this story, I shall feel amply repaid if it encourages any member of my race to greater faith in himself, as well as in other selves, both white and black; and shall help him to make his life count for the very most in meeting and solving the great human problem which we in this country call the "race problem."

And I shall be further repaid if it shall have some slight part in leading any youth of the white race to follow the example of other members of his own

PREFACE vii

race of both North and South, and dedicate hiniself to the service of human welfare in securing justice and a fair opportunity for the hurnblest American citizen, whatever his race or colour, to the end that the white man of the North, the white man of the South, and the Negro shall work harmoniously together in bringing forward that Peace on Earth which results when men have Good Will.

R. R. MoTON.

Tuskegee Institute^ Alabama^ IQIQ

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I . Out of Africa 3

II . On a Virginia Plantation 16

Chapter II

In January, 1867, my father hired himself to Mr. Samuel Vaughan of Prince Edward County, and was made foreman or "head man" on the Vaughan plantation while his family continued to live in Amelia County. It was in Amelia County that I was born on the 26th day of August of the same year. Among my earliest recollections is one of my father appearing on a Saturday morning with a team of four mules hitched to a large farm wagon in charge of a coloured man, Beverley Jones, who rode one of the mules. My father and my mother, assisted by friends, packed our few belongings into this wagon and took me with my mother to the Vaughan plantation in Prince Edward County where my father had been working. I remember perfectly the long drive and how they wrapped me in an old gray blanket and a blue military overcoat— which were very common in those days

— in order to protect me from the bitter cold. Here in an old house, In the rear of a Virginia mansion known as '"Pleasant Shade," I spent most of the years of my early youth. My mother for many years was cook, and my father "led the hands" on the plantation. It was here that I caught my first glimpses of real culture and got my first inspiration as to what I would like to be and something of what I would like to do.

On account of my parents' relation to the household, and because I was the only child near the "big house," I naturally received much attention from the Vaughan family. I can never forget Mrs. Vaughan — "Miss Lucy" we called her, as was the custom not only among the coloured people but among the white folks also — and her three daughters. Misses Patty, Jennie, and Mollie. I was soon big enough to carry Miss Lucy's key basket. This was considered a great honour for a small Negro boy before the war and immediately afterward. I felt the "dignity and responsibility" of my oflice. As I grew older my duties increased until I assisted her and her daughters in the care of the fowls, of which she had a great number — turkeys, geese, ducks, and a great many chickens. But proud as I was of these duties, I have never since so sincerely envied any one his position as I did Sam Reed, the general house boy and waiter in the family. Miss Lucy had promised me that when Sam was big enough he would be transferred to the farm, as was the custom, and I could have his place. Sam helped the cook, made all the fires, was In the "big house" much of the time, and generally wore " good clothes." He was a favourite on the plantation. Besides all this, Sam was a remarkable acrobat. He could turn somersaults, stand on his head, turn a cart wheel, go wheelbarrow fashion, and could perform what were to me many very wonderful acrobatic feats, in addition to being a wonderfully good reel and jig dancer and a remarkably fine singer. He must have inherited his ability to sing from his father, "Uncle Jim," who was a noted "shout singer" in the neighbourhood. Sam was not a "Christian" and so sang anything; and he did It very effectively. Under Sam's direction I practised many of his accomplishments, and with his careful tutelage became a close second. As a result, he and I were

i8 frequently called into the "big house" to perform. But there was one thing I had against Sam. He grew so slowly it seemed that I would soon be bigger than he, and would lose my chance to get his place when he should be sent on to another. Fortunately for me, but perhaps unfortunately for Sam, his father now insisted that it was time for him to leave the house, as he considered him too old to devote himself to "doing chores"; and being only a house boy, his pay was too small. He would earn more by working on the farm. So Sam had to go. I never shall forget the joy I felt when told that I was to wait on the table at breakfast the following morning, and how Sam and my mother instructed me until late in the night how to perform my new duties ; how I should stand ; and how to all appearances I was to pay no attention to the conversation. I remember how they sat at the table and had me pass things — empty plates and dishes— I do not recall whether from the right or left side, but judge now it must have been from the left. In any case, I got through my first day with some show of success and proved myself fairly equal to my new responsibilities. As a compliment to the honours of the post, the young ladies at the house made me a couple of suits which I should wear only on special occasions. I think I have never had a position since then in which I took any more pride than in this youthful promotion to the place to which I had aspired for several years. Yet there was more in my position than was at first apparent. "Mr. Willie" Vaughan, the only son, I took in many things as a model. I copied his laugh, his walk, his dress, the way he handled his knife and fork, and other characteristic manners of his in a fashion that must have sometimes amused those who observed me. But aside from its humorous aspects, this contact with the Vaughan family meant for me a certain kind of most valuable training and education.

About this time a rather interesting incident happened. While my work was new, my mother made me devote an hour at night to my bluebacked Holmes's Primer. She was my teacher, being one of the very few coloured women in our neighbourhood who could read at all. There was a popular belief that the Vaughans, notwithstanding their kindness and aristocratic ideas, objected to and opposed Negroes' reading and writing. My mother was very careful, therefore, that they should not know that she was teaching me to read, or even that she herself could read. For several years she had kept from them the fact that she even knew one letter of the alphabet from another; but one night after the day's work was done there was a gentle rap at the door of our two-roomed house. I remember that we were sitting before a big, open fire — my father, my mother, and I — my mother teaching me by the light from the fire. As the custom was In those days my mother called out to learn who was there. Imagine our consternation when the answer came back: "Miss Lucy." My mother was tempted to hide the book when she discovered who was at the door, but my father objected, saying we were free and that he would leave the Vaughans If they made any objections; that he could find plenty of work at good pay at any one of a dozen plantations in the district. So the door was opened and in walked "Miss Lucy", to find us in the very act. She expressed the greatest surprise when she discovered what was taking place, but she astonished us equally when she indicated that she was very much pleased, and comniended my mother on the fact that she could read and told her she was very wise to teach her son to read. The next day we were even more astonished and of course pleased when Miss Mollie, her youngest daughter, said to my mother that Mrs. Vaughan had asked her to give me a lesson for one hour every afternoon and to do the same for my mother if my mother would care to have her do so. So the next time my father went to Farmville, eight miles away, he bought the necessary books both for my mother and me, and my lessons began in a more systematic way with Miss Mollie as teacher and my mother as my "classmate" for one hour each afternoon. My mother finally dropped out but I continued for some time, though intermittently.

One of the saddest recollections of my childhood was the death of Mrs. Vaughan. T can never forget the impression it made upon me, the wailing of the coloured women on the plantation and the sadness of the coloured men. There must have been between three and four hundred people on the Vaughan estate, including men, women, and children. Mrs. Vaughan, like her husband, possessed a very beautiful character and was beloved of everybody on the plantation. While I did not then appreciate the full gravity of the situation, I wept along with the others; for in spite of my youth I realized somewhat the loss that this death was to me as well as to others. For there was not a family on the plantation and scarcely a person who had not at some time been helped by her kindly personal attention to their needs and difficulties. Several years later Mr. Vaughan was married again — to Miss Pattie Perkinson, a daughter of Captain Perkinson, the head of another of Virginia's fine families, who owned a large estate a few miles away. I confess that I did not entirely approve of the marriage. The truth of the matter was I shared the feelings — perhaps in less degree — of most of the people on the plantation, especially the women; though my own feelings were more personal than general. I was not so worried about the marriage itself as I was anxious that whoever took "Miss Lucy's" place should not interfere with the position I was occupying in the Vaughan household. I was certain that no one could be so kind as "Miss Lucy" had been to me, and I felt sure that "Miss Pattie" would not be; and what I had heard of the dealings of certain members of her family with coloured people rather tended further to disquiet than to allay my youthful anxiety about my own future. My position at this time in the Vaughan household was, in my mind, of a very important sort. I was doing, so I supposed, just about as I wished, and running things much to my own liking. I carried the keys all day and hung them at the head of Mr. Vaughan's bed the last thing at night. I issued the com for the stock and frequently helped in weighing the rations to the scores of men who came up Saturday afternoon for their allowances. I went hunting with Mr. Vaughan, visited the rabbit traps in the morning, and also went fishing with him on the Appomattox River. He rode a magnificent bay mare we called Fannie, while I rode a mule, blind in both eyes, named Kit. It is not surprising, therefore, that I should have been more or less jealous of my position and anxious that the new mistress of the house should be of a kind to meet my approval, for by this time the three daughters had all married and only Mr. Vaughan's son, Mr. William S. Vaughan, was left.

My mother was still the cook, and my father was running things as headman on the farm, but neither my father nor my mother counted very much in my mind so far as this situation was concerned; indeed Mr. Vaughan and his son did not count very much, looking at it from the mental angles of my youth. I was, however, very pleasantly surprised when "Miss Pattie" came to " Pleasant Shade." The things that had been prophesied regarding her were not fulfilled. She did not take the keys from me and I had just about as much leeway as before, in some respects more. She was more careful than the men folks had been about setting the table and cleaning the house, pulling up weeds, the clearing of the garden, and such things. She made me sweep off the porches once and sometimes twice or three times a day — I had gotten to the place where I swept them perhaps twice and sometimes only once a week. And besides all this, the new Mrs. Vaughan insisted that my mother should continue my lessons, and encouraged me in various other ways.

In the fall following this iniportant event a school was opened for coloured children a few miles from the Vaughan plantation. This was the first school for Negroes in tjiat neighbourhood; indeed the first school of any kind, for there had been no public schools of consequence for either white or coloured children before that time. In the fall of the previous year the coloured people had been urged to vote with the promise that if they did so a public school for their children would be established in our district. They voted according to instructions and the promise was kept.

In early October a free school was opened for coloured people, with Mr. John Morrisette, a white man, as teacher. My father and my mother decided that I should go. They consulted the iVaughans, particularly Mrs. Vaughan. She readily approved. Forthwith she and my mother fitted me out and I appeared in school the opening day. I recall how I felt when I observed that there were so many children bigger than myself who could not read. Because of my instruction at home I was in the highest class in the school. And I had special pride in the fact. I think I was reading in the third reader. But reading at all by a coloured boy in those days was rather unusual; and a coloured free school, with fifty or sixty children on the opening day, and meeting in the daytime as well, was a real marvel. Mr. Morrisette, who, by the way, had been an officer in the Southern Army, was most kind and thoughtful and very patient, and took a great deal of care and pains, even on the opening day, to classify us. He brought many books of various kinds, and his wife, who was a very unusual woman, came in later to help him in the difficult task of organizing this large number of Negro children into a real school. His task no doubt was a hard one, not only because of the children directly, but because of the parents as well, many of whom, as time went on, troubled him very much. All of us naturally thought the more books the student carried the more he knew, and many parents were therefore willing to get the fourth, fifth, and even the sixth reader for their children without any protest at the expense so long as they were carrying "bigger" and "higher" books. My father shared this feeling along with the rest. He was not altogether happy at my having only a third reader; but Mrs. Vaughan, who knew what I was doing, came to the rescue and assured him that I would have "bigger" books in ample time, and that I would probably learn more than many others who had many more books.

I continued my work in the Vaughan family, before and after school, at intervals for many years, and without doubt what I learned from my contact with them was worth quite as much to me as what I learned at school. Indeed, my own idea has always been that the one supplemented the other. My work before and after school was being correlated unconsciously with what I was learning In books; which was true also of my contact with the nearly four score children whom I met daily at school.

The Vaughans were of the finest type of Southern families — kind, thoughtful, and generous. They were people of considerable wealth and at the top of the social scale in that community; but at the same time they were of all the white people the most popular among the Negroes of the neighbourhood. They visited Negro churches and prayermeetings, and Negroes frequently visited the old

Jamestown Presbyterian Church to which the Vaughans belonged and of which Mr. Vaughan, I think, was an elder, as was also his son in later years. For many years they conducted Sunday School in the afternoon at Jamestown Church for coloured people. This school was taught by the leading ladies of the community with the help of some of the leading white men. In this connection it is significant that the Vaughans never suffered for want of adequate and faithful help on the farm or in the household, and it is certain that their influence on the coloured people on their place and in that section was of the best. This was true of them in that day. It is equally true to-day of their three daughters and was true of their son and his wife, both of whom have died within the last few years. The Vaughans never lost any prestige or social standing in the community by being kind and helpful to coloured people.

The pastor of the Jamestown Presbyterian Church, to which I have referred, was the Rev. George H. Denney, a minister who lived in Amelia County, some twenty miles away, and usually came to the community on Saturday afternoons in a sulky. He generally made his home with the Vaughans, remaining over from Saturday until Monday. Occasionally he came earlier or remained later for certain special services. I was always glad to have him come, even though it added to my duties somewhat, because of the extra shoes to polish and the extra pail of water that I had to bring from the spring some distance away. At the same time he was very kind to me; it was he who gave me the first Bible that I ever had and took pains to interpret certain passages with which I had become somewhat familiar but whose meaning was as yet rather vague to me. But my joy at his coming lay in the fact that frequently, especially in the summer season, he brought with him his son George. He was of about my own age which accounted for our having many good times together. Sometimes we were joined by Ernest Morton, another white boy, and Lee Brown, a coloured boy, but George and I were especially friendly. Many a day he would sit at the table with the family and I would be keeping the flies off and waiting on the table, when we would wink at each other and make plans as to what we would do when dinner was over and my other work done. Often he would pitch in and help me through and then off we went fishing on Sailor Creek, famous for one of the skirmishes between Lee and Grant, on the way to Appomattox after the evacuation of Richmond.

We not only enjoyed our boyish play, but we worked many examples in arithmetic together and discussed history as well. I remember that we differed frequently. One of the discussions we used to have most often was about which was the greater general, Grant or Lee. He was for Lee ; I for Grant. We often discussed the merits of the conflict betwen the states, which culminated in the war. I could never swerve him from his position on this question and he never swerved me from mine. We never found it profitable to discuss this issue. He would sometimes lose his temper, and I frequently lost mine. There came a time when we ceased to discuss it at all and I think our relations were consequently very much pleasanter. He had a most excellent father and the son was of the same type — ^very bright, always frank, always generous — and he never swerved in his friendship for me.

I sometimes feared that the Vaughans and the Reverend Mr. Denney, George's father, were a Httle annoyed that he preferred apparently to be out in the fields where I was with the cows and sheep, or even to help me with my chores, to being in the house among the guests — for the Vaughan household was a very popular meeting place for young people and old. It was a great social centre and the scene of many parties.

Mr. Vaughan's death, which occurred about this time, made everything different at " Pleasant Shade " thereafter. The farm was divided among the children. Most of the coloured people moved away. My father went to live with a family of Mortons who were by marriage connected with the Vaughan family. Mr. J. X. Morton, who afterward became a professor at the Virginia Polytechnic Institute, had a son Ernest, to whom I have referred. Our friendship grew stronger; indeed he left parents and everything else to be with my coloured chum Lee and with me, and we, in the same spirit, neglected everything that we could with impunity, in order that the three of us could be together. We fished and hunted together and engaged in many boyish sports and pranks. Nothing in his possession was too good for us, and nothing in ours was too good for him. As we grew older my father did not wholly approve of this intimacy, and used often to say that we were **too thick to thrive." In the course of time there did come a parting. Ernest went off to school and my chum Lee and I were left on his father's farm. The weeks immediately following his leaving for the Virginia Polytechnic Institute were dull and dreary for us at home. This I think was in October. I continued to work on the farm, for I was now too big for chores, and went to school when the weather did not permit working on the farm. I was anxiously awaiting the Christmas holidays when our friend Ernest would return and we would again have some good times together.

He would tell us no doubt of his college experiences and we had some experiences that we could relate to him. At last the day came. Lee and I were at the house when they brought him in the carriage from Rice's Depot. His father and one of his sisters had gone to meet him. He had with him also his room-mate, I think, who had come to spend the holidays with him. They both wore gray uniforms with brass buttons. Lee and I, as soon as Ernest alighted from the carriage, rushed up to shake hands. He not only did not shake hands with us but his manner was as cold and frigid as the north wind that we were breathing. He did bow, but it was quickly done. Lee went home. I went into the kitchen with Aunt Viny, the cook. I was feeling bad; so was Lee. I was thinking. Sometimes I wonder if I ever thought quite as seriously on life as I did that night. A few moments later he came out into the kitchen in his splendid spick-and-span uniform with brass buttons and polished shoes. Aunt Viny, the old cook of sixty or seventy years, rushed up to him and threw her arms around him, exclaiming, "My chil'! My chil'!" and he in turn threw his arms around her. He was not more demonstrative toward his mother; in fact, not even so much so, because his mother was not so demonstrative as the cook. I sat unhappy, puzzled, thinking. Finally, through the darkness of the night, I stole down through the ravine, across the brook, and up to our cabin on the hill. I went to bed early that night. My father, who always saw and realized much more than he ever expressed, asked me the one question that I did not care to have him ask, and he made just the one ejaculation which cut keen and deep.

He said, "Did you see Ernest?" "Yes, Sir,'' I said. "What did he say to you?" "Nothing," said I. "I told you to stay away from there," he said. I made no answer. He said no more. He knew how I felt, for he probably imagined what had happened. I went immediately to bed, as I have said, earlier than was my custom, and I think remained in bed later next morning, but I slept less than usual. I was thinking that night . I arose next morning more weary than when I went to bed; but I was wiser and more resolute than ever before in my life. I went through my usual day's work on the farm and looked after the hogs for the Mortons, and did what I had to do with reference to the feeding, but did not go to the house except as I was obliged to do. I met Ernest and his chum face to face. I looked the other way. I do not think they noticed where I was looking. I am sure they did not care. I was trying to snub them both. It had no effect, so far as I could judge, on either. But before going to bed the following night I had firmly resolved that getting an education was the best thing toward which I could bend my efforts in the future. The next morning I asked my father about the school for coloured people, which was being projected under the influence of General Mahone at Petersburg, now a State Normal School. He told me much about it. It was to open the following fall. The Hon. John M. Langston, he said, a coloured man who was as well educated as any white person that he knew of, was to be the president. He said I might go if I wished and that he would do what he could to help me. It being a state school, and he having certain strong friends in the Republican Party (General Mahone among them), Hon. B. S. Hooper, a member of Congress from the Fourth Congressional District of Virginia, would probably arrange for me to have a scholarship. He also told me much about Hampton Institute but he was not enthusiastic about my going to Hampton. He said Hampton was a "work school" and that he could teach me as much about work as Hampton could; but as he thought I could go to Hampton without any money, he would permit me to go if I insisted, though it was against his inclinations.

During the winter I did much thinking, and much talking, too, with those people whose judgment I thought I could trust, about going to school, either at Hampton or at Petersburg. Mention was also made of some other schools. Captain Frank Southall, whose brother. Dr. J. W. Southall, was later Superintendent of Public Instruction of Virginia, learned through some source that I contemplated going to school. He had somehow been impressed with my knowledge of the Bible and my interest in the Sunday School by my attendance at the afternoon Sunday School at the Jamestown Presbyterian Church, to which I have referred, and of which he was superintendent. He wanted me to go to a school at Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to fit myself for the ministry in the Presbyterian Church. He said he would gladly arrange this and that the entire expense would be provided. This did not appeal to me very much, because I was unwilling to sign an agreement that I would enter the ministry or join the Presbyterian Church. All of my people were Baptists and we were living in a strongly Baptist community, that is, so far as Negroes were concerned. The Negroes, at least