The Man Farthest Down: A Record of Observation and Study in Europe

by Booker T. Washington; Robert Ezra Park

When I asked an acquaintance, who had lived a number of years in Austria, why this was so, he replied that there were so many Jews in Galicia that there were not enough other people to support them. He then went on to explain that between the two classes, the nobility who owned the land and the peasant who cultivated it, the Jew represented the trader, or middleman. It was, therefore, literally true that there were not enough other people in the country to support the Jew, who represents, however, not more than 11 per cent. of the total population.

One of the first persons I met in Galicia was a representative of this poorer class of Jews. I reached Cracow late one afternoon in the latter part of September. There was a cold wind blowing and, for the first time since I had left Scotland, I noticed an uncomfortable keenness in the evening air, which was an indication, I suppose, that I was on the northern and eastern or the Russian side of the Carpathian Mountains. One of the first persons I encountered as I was standing shivering at the entrance of the hotel was a pale-faced, brown-eyed little boy, who spoke to me in English and seemed to want to establish some sort of friendship with me on the basis of our common acquaintance with the English language. He was unmistakably a Jew and, as we walked down the street together, he told me something of his life in London and then in Cracow. I gathered from what he was able to tell me that his father, who was a cabinetmaker and, as he said, "very poor," had found it harder to live in the fierce competition of the London sweatshops, where he had been employed, than in the Ghetto at Cracow, and so had grown discouraged and returned.

I learned from him, as I did later from others of his race, that not all the Jews who came to England and America succeed and get rich in a few years, as seems to be commonly supposed. Some of them fail, and some get into unexpected troubles, and frequently families who immigrate are broken up and some of them sent back as a consequence of the enforcement of the immigration regulations, so that there is not so much eagerness to go to America as there was a few years ago.

In spite of this fact the Jews of Galicia, nearly every one of whom probably has friends or relatives either in England or America, seem to look with peculiar interest upon every one who speaks the English language, because they regard them as representatives of a people who, more than any other in the world, have tried to be just to the Jews.

A few days later I met in a little village a few miles from Cracow a Jewish trader who, like most of the Jews in this part of the country, spoke German as well as Polish, so that with the assistance of Doctor Park I was able to speak with him. He said that his business was to buy grain and fodder from the large landowners in different parts of Galicia and sell it again to the peasants, who used it to feed their stock. When he learned that I was from America and that I wanted to see something of the life of the peasant people he volunteered to be my guide. It was a very fortunate meeting for me, for I found that this man not only knew about the condition of nearly every family in the village, but he understood, also, exactly how to deal with them so that, at his touch, every door flew open, as if by magic, and I was able to see and learn all that I wanted to know.

In the meantime I noticed that our guide and interpreter seemed to be quite as interested in learning about America as I was interested in getting acquainted with Galicia. He interlarded all his information about the condition of the peasants in different parts of the country with questions about conditions in America. As it turned out, he not only had relatives in America, but he had a cousin in New York who had got into trouble and been sent to prison for three years on account of some business irregularity. It was a small matter, according to my Jewish friend, that would not have cost more than eight days' imprisonment in Galicia. He could not understand, therefore, how a poor man should be treated more harshly in a free country like America, where all are equal, than he was at home, where he was the underdog and did not expect consideration. What seemed to trouble him most, however, was the fact that he had not heard from his cousin for a year and no one knew what had become of him.

When the matter was explained to me, I told the man that if he would give me the name and last address of his cousin, when I returned to New York I would look the matter up and, if possible, learn what had become of the missing cousin.

This seemed to me a very natural proposal, under the circumstances, but it evidently took the poor man by surprise, for he stopped, stared at me an instant, and then in the most humble manner knelt down and kissed my hand. I confess that at first I was a little shocked and rather disgusted. Afterward I learned that it is a common habit, more especially in Russia, for peasants to kiss the hands and even the feet of their superiors. The thought that occurred to me, however, was that it must have taken many centuries of subjection and oppression to make this attitude of humility a familiar and natural way, as it seemed to be in this case, of expressing gratitude.

The singular thing about it all was that this Jew who had shown himself so humble toward me looked down upon and despised the Polish peasants among whom he trades. He referred to them as "ignorant and dirty creatures." For all that, he seemed to have learned their ways of expressing himself to those to whose power or influence he looked for help or protection.

Under these circumstances, with these ingrained habits in the masses of the people, I found it hard to imagine just what the right of manhood suffrage, which has recently been conferred upon the people in all the provinces of Austria, was likely to mean in actual practice.