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.
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