Class P^ 4 5 7 
 
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 Abraham Lincoln 
 A Tribute 
 

 An Address by 
 
 MAGGIE BLAUVELT CARR 
 
 February 12, 1909 
 
 Public School Eighty-nine 
 New York City 
 
 CCU 2^6594 
 
FORTY-TWO years before the three 
 kings of the Orient, led by a star, made 
 their journey to a manger in Bethlehem, 
 Publius Syrus wrote these words: "I have 
 often regretted my speech, but never my 
 silence," and now one thousand nine 
 hundred and nine years since that event in 
 Bethlehem of Judea, which has been of so 
 much interest to all students of history, 
 whatever their creed, I stand here almost 
 regretting my speech before it is made, for 
 perhaps it would be better for me — a 
 woman — to keep silent on this great occa- 
 sion. When I received the invitation from 
 your principal to speak here to-day, my 
 first impulse was to say no. Then I com- 
 menced to think, and I remembered that 
 on this twelfth day of February the flags 
 would be thrown to the breezes all over 
 our land ; that in the morning the school- 
 houses would be open, and that the chil- 
 dren would assemble for special exercises; 
 that in the evening magnificent banquets 
 would be spread and that men would tell 
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in eloquent language of the life of a man 
 who was born one hundred years ago to- 
 day. 
 
 Then I remembered that one of the 
 most widely-read histories of that man's life 
 was written by a woman, Ida M. Tarbell. 
 Then I remembered that at Gettysburg 
 Abraham Lincoln made his most famous 
 address, which was received by his audi- 
 ence in silence, but which has been handed 
 down to us as a classic. I remembered that 
 to-day on that famous battle field stands 
 a monument to a woman, the only woman 
 killed during the battle of Gettysburg — 
 those three days of dreadful warfare which 
 ended in victory for the North — remem- 
 bered by the South as the time when the 
 "flower of Virginia fell." 
 
 This woman's name was Jennie Wade. 
 She was eighteen years of age. She was 
 engaged to be married to a Union soldier. 
 She was busy in her home baking bread 
 for the soldiers on the battlefield when a 
 shell crashed through the house and killed 
 her instantly. To her memory there has 
 been erected the statue of a veiled woman. 
 It stands just outside the National Ceme- 
 tery overlooking a closely-clipped hedge. 
 
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As a mother guards her children in their 
 sleep, so she seems to be guarding these 
 unknown sleepers in their last resting place. 
 
 And so with these thoughts, and remem- 
 bering what women have done and are 
 doing for the advancement of patriotism 
 in our country, I have come here to take 
 my part in this great celebration. 
 
 For many years I have held membership 
 in a patriotic society founded on ancestry, 
 and I regret that the object of that society 
 is sometimes misunderstood. We who are 
 eligible join it because we believe that the 
 deeds of our ancestors — the men w^ho 
 founded and freed this our home land — 
 deserve to be remembered by their descend- 
 ants forever, and in this manner we are 
 trying to do our part. 
 
 When these men — our great, great 
 grandfathers — had worked with ax and 
 shovel and hammer to establish their 
 homes, they declared their attitude toward 
 Great Britain with the pen. Then these 
 men of 1776 shouldered the rifle and after 
 seven years of hardship they threw off the 
 British yoke and they gave us our country. 
 
 When you enter this society a blank is 
 given the applicant to fill and one of the 
 
 3 
 
first questions asks the age of the appli- 
 cant. I have been told by the registrar 
 of this society that in a period covering 
 twenty years this question has been 
 answered but twice. Once the age was 
 eighteen, once it was eighty — a girl rejoic- 
 ing in her youth, a woman feeling the honor 
 of her years. But I know that between 
 those birthdays a woman seldom m.entions 
 her age. 
 
 So, calmly facing the awful possibility of 
 everyone here knovv^ing just about how 
 long I have been on earth, I want to tell you 
 when I first heard the name of Abraham 
 Lincoln. One beautiful spring morning, 
 long years ago, on entering our dining-room 
 for my breakfast, a most unusual sight 
 met my childish eyes. No one was eating, 
 no one was at the table, but seated near 
 a window my father was reading from the 
 morning paper, which was deeply lined with 
 black. His ow^n voice was broken as he 
 read, and the others were weeping. And 
 then it was explained to the youngest 
 daughter of the household that a great and 
 a good man had been called suddenly to 
 meet his Maker. Then came the period 
 of mourning, when the houses were draped 
 
in black. Then there came the day when 
 we children were taken to see that large 
 procession pass through Fifth Avenue and 
 the hearse that bore all that was mortal 
 of the President of the United States, whose 
 name will ever be linked with the Proclama- 
 tion of Emancipation — the man who 
 SAVED us our country. 
 
 Later we children learned in the schools, 
 as you children are doing to-day, of this 
 man's life and deeds. Now in the maturity 
 of my years I think of him as I think of 
 Moses, who led the children of Israel into 
 the Promised Land. I think of him as I 
 think of the angels who sang that night 
 over Bethlehem: "Peace on earth, good 
 will toward men," for I know that he led 
 a nation out of bondage and brought peace 
 to our land. By the liberation of a nation 
 he bound a nation together and made it 
 possible for it to stand before the other 
 nations of the world honored and respected 
 because of his act of humanity, civilization 
 and decency. And I know that his act 
 made it possible for brains and talent to 
 be recognized, no matter what the color of 
 a man's skin. I know that his act made it 
 possible for a Negro girl to graduate from 
 
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a university in Atlanta, Ga., and twenty- 
 three years ago to begin teaching a few 
 children of her own race. By earnest work 
 she now stands at the head of a school in 
 Augusta, Ga., accomodating more than 
 seven hundred children and employing 
 twenty-two teachers. I refer to Miss Lucy 
 C. Laney. I know that his act made it 
 possible for a man — Paul Lawrence Dunbar, 
 born of slave parents — to leave to this 
 world, when he passed out of it a few years 
 ago, his beautiful poems, which to-day 
 stand on my book-shelves with those of 
 Longfellow and Tennyson. I know that 
 by the act of Abraham Lincoln, it was 
 possible for Mr. Henry O. Tanner to culti- 
 vate his wonderful talent; to exhibit his 
 magnificent paintings of Scriptural subjects 
 in all of the large cities of Europe and 
 America, and to be credited by foreign 
 critics with standing third among the many 
 artists of the United States. I know 
 Abraham Lincoln made it possible for a 
 man who was himself born a slave to 
 found and conduct a college and to 
 graduate from it each year young men so 
 well equipped in the arts, professions and 
 trades that they may lead useful and 
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worthy lives and stand shoulder to shoul- 
 der with their white brothers. And to 
 those of you who listen to me to-day and 
 are of his race, I bring a message as I heard it 
 from the lips of Mr. Booker T. Washington, 
 a few weeks ago, when he said: "To those 
 of my race who desire advancement for 
 themselves and their children I implore 
 that they never undertake it with violence, 
 but with honesty, industry and earnest- 
 ness, aided by the midnight prayer." 
 
 And now I urge upon you all to be faith- 
 ful in every undertaking and always to re- 
 member the dearly bought, priceless gift of 
 liberty. I urge you to remember all that 
 has been done for a nation and a race by a 
 man whose heart was tender and sym- 
 pathetic toward the least of men. All that 
 we can do to-day on this the one hundredth 
 anniversary of his birth — from the poorest 
 to the most eloquent speaker — is to bring 
 from a garland of thought a tribute of 
 words to lay on an altar of love in memory 
 of that great and good man, Abraham 
 Lincoln. 
 
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