“What lessons has this occasion for the future? What of hope, what of encouragement, what of caution? ‘Watchman, tell us of the night; what the signs of promise are.’ If through me, an humble representative, nearly ten millions of my people might be permitted to send a message to Massachusetts, to the survivors of the 54th regiment, to the committee whose untiring energy has made this memorial possible, to the family who gave their only boy that we might have life more abundantly, that message would be, ‘Tell them that the sacrifice was not in vain, that up from the depth of ignorance and poverty we are coming, and if we come through oppression out of the struggle, we are gaining strength. By the way of the school, the well cultivated field, the skilled hand, the Christian home, we are coming up; that we propose to invite all who will to step up and occupy this position with us. Tell them that we are learning that standing ground for a race, as for an individual, must be laid in intelligence, industry, thrift and property, not as an end, but as a means to the highest privileges; that we are learning that neither the conqueror’s bullet nor the fiat of law could make an ignorant voter an intelligent voter, could make a dependent man an independent man, could give one citizen respect for another, a bank account, nor a foot of land, nor an enlightened fireside. Tell them that as grateful as we are to artist and patriotism for placing the figures of Shaw and his comrades in physical form of beauty and magnificence, that after all, the real monument, the greater monument, is being slowly but safely builded among the lowly in the South, in the struggles and sacrifices of a race to justify all that has been done and suffered for it.’
“One of the wishes that lay nearest Colonel Shaw’s heart was, that his black troops might be permitted to fight by the side of the white soldiers. Have we not lived to see that wish realized, and will it not be more so in the future? Not at Wagner, not with rifle and bayonet, but on the field of peace, in the battle of industry, in the struggle for good government, in the lifting up of the lowest to the fullest opportunities. In this we shall fight by the side of the white man, North and South. And if this be true, as under God’s guidance it will, that old flag, that emblem of progress and security, which brave Sergeant Carney never permitted to fall upon the ground, will still be borne aloft by Southern soldier and Northern soldier, and, in a more potent and higher sense, we shall all realize that—
‘The slave’s chain and the master’s alike broken;
The one curse of the race held both in tether;
They are rising, all are rising—
The black and the white together.’”
From the Boston Evening Transcript of June 1st, the following is taken:
“The core and kernel of yesterday’s great noon meeting in honor of the Brotherhood of Man in Music Hall, was the superb address of the Negro President of Tuskegee. Booker T. Washington received his Harvard A. M. last June, the first of his race, said Governor Wolcott, to receive an honorary degree from the oldest university in this country, and this for the wise leadership of his people. And when Mr. Washington rose up in the flag-filled, enthusiasm-warmed, patriotic and glowing atmosphere of Music Hall, people felt keenly that here was the civic justification of the old abolition spirit of Massachusetts, in his person the proof of her ancient and indomitable faith; in his strong thought and rich oratory, the crown and glory of the old war days of suffering and strife. The scene was full of historic beauty and a deep significance. ‘Cold’ Boston was alive with the fire that is always hot in her heart for righteousness and truth. Rows and rows of people who are seldom seen at any public function, whole families of those who are certain to be out of town on a holiday, crowded the place to overflowing. The city was at her birthright fete in the persons of hundreds of her best citizens, men and women whose lives and names stand for the virtues that make for honorable civic pride.
“Battle music had filled the air. Ovation after ovation, applause warm and prolonged had greeted the officers and friends of Colonel Shaw, the sculptor, St. Gaudens, the memorial committee, the Governor and his staff, and the Negro soldiers of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts as they came upon the platform or entered the hall. Chief Marshal Appleton and Mr. Chaplain Hall had performed their duties. Colonel Henry Lee, of Governor Andrew’s old staff, had made the noble, simple presentation speech for the committee, paying tribute to the chairman, Mr. John M. Forbes, in whose stead he served. Governor Wolcott had made his short memorable speech, saying, ‘Fort Wagner marked an epoch in history of a race and called it into manhood.’ Mayor Quincy had received the monument for the city of Boston in eloquent words. Professor James, brother of Adjutant James, who fell at Fort Wagner, wounded but not killed, had told the story of Colonel Shaw and his black regiment in gallant words. He got at the soul of the day’s meaning when he said that the battle-instinct is strong enough in the race, bred in our bone and blood, but what is needed is ‘that lonely kind of valor, civic courage we call it in time of peace;’ which blesses a nation with a continued saying, and whose ‘inner mystery’ the precious virtue of civil genius is preserved in perfect good temper and in power of righteous wrath. And then after the singing of
‘Mine eyes have seen the glory,
Of the coming of the Lord,’
Booker Washington arose. It was, of course, just the moment for him. The multitude, shaken out of its usual Symphony concert calm, quivered with an excitement that was not suppressed. A dozen times it had sprung to its feet to cheer and wave and hurrah, as one person. When this man of culture and voice and power, as well as dark skin, began with the biblical poetic touch in his first words, and quickly uttered the names of Andrew and of Stearns, feeling began to mount. You could see tears glisten in the eyes of the soldiers and civilians on the platform. When the orator turned to the colored soldiers on the platform, to the color bearer of Fort Wagner, who smiling bore still the flag he never lowered, even when wounded, and said: ‘To you, to the scarred and scattered remnants of the Fifty-fourth, who, with empty sleeve and wanting leg, have honored this occasion with your presence, to you, your commander is not dead. Though Boston erected no monument, and history recorded no story, in you and the loyal race you represent, Robert Gould Shaw would have a monument which time could not wear away,’ then came the climax of the emotion of the day and the hour. It was Roger Wolcott as well as the Governor of Massachusetts, the individual representative of the people’s sympathy, as well as the chief magistrate, who had sprung first to his feet and cried, ‘Three cheers to Booker T. Washington.’”
One incident, however, I note that the newspapers do not describe fully. Most of my readers will perhaps know that Sergeant William H. Carney, of New Bedford, Mass., was the brave colored officer who at the battle of Fort Wagner, was the color bearer and held on to the American flag. Notwithstanding the fact that a large proportion of his regiment was slain, he escaped in some miraculous manner and exclaimed, after the battle was over, “The old flag never touched the ground.”
Before I made this address I had never met Sergeant Carney. Sergeant Carney, however, together with a remnant of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment, was present on a front seat, and he held in his hand the same flag which he had held on to safely during the battle of Fort Wagner. When I turned to address the colored regiment and referred to Sergeant Carney, he rose as if by instinct with the flag in his hands. It has been my privilege to witness a good many satisfactory and rather sensational demonstrations in connection with several of my public addresses, but in dramatic effect I have never seen nor experienced anything that equaled the impression made on the audience when Sergeant Carney arose. For a good many minutes the audience seemed to entirely lose control of itself and patriotic feeling was at a high pitch.