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.