W.E.B. Du Bois: “Three days I flew through the empire of Texas, but all these shall be tales untold, for in all this journey I saw but…”

The form and disposition of the laborers’ cabins throughout the Black Belt is to-day the same as in slavery days.

Years have passed away since then,—ten, twenty, forty; forty years of national life, forty years of renewal and development, and yet the swarthy spectre sits in its accustomed seat at the Nation’s feast.

In song and exhortation swelled one refrain—Liberty; in his tears and curses the God he implored had Freedom in his right hand.

They approach me in a half-hesitant sort of way, eye me curiously or compassionately, and then, instead of saying directly, How does it feel to be a problem? they say, I know an excellent colored man in my town; or, I fought at…