Left: Mrs. Lucy Hall WashingtonRight: Page of the Emancipation Proclamation address given by President Abraham Lincoln.
On January 1, 1863, the War Between the States still raging with a third year of fighting approaching, President Abraham Lincoln issued his Emancipation Proclamation declaring all slaves held in "rebellious states" free. Though still not complete freedom for all held captive within the United States of America, it "transformed the character of the war." CLICK HERE TO READ MORE
The Proclamation of Emancipation was given the title Immortal Proclamation, and it is this for which Lucy Washington was inspired to write her poem, "Birth-day of Freedom."
Mrs. Lucy Hall (Walker) Washington was born January 4, 1835, into a family whose roots in America dated back to 1640. One can see from the charming countenance of her facial features that Mrs. Washington was a woman who cared and loved. Before marrying a Baptist minister, she taught school. Lucy and her husband were the parents of four children. Lucy was a well-respected public speaker, often for the Woman's Christian Temperance Union. She delivered addresses 24 states for prohibition.
Echoes of Song, a book of poetry for which Lucy Washington is the author, was published in 1878. On page 112 begins Lucy's Poems of Patriotism.
Birth-day of Freedom
Ushered in by the Immortal Proclamation
of Our Martyred President.
HAIL! new birth-day of the Nation,
Of the glorious proclamation,
All our fighting was in vain,
We had learned the lesson slowly,
That we must become more lowly,
That we must be born again.
Born all free from vile pollution
Of the cursed institution,
Which robs labor of reward;
Evil that hath banished kindness,
Caused secession, madness, blindness,
Roar of cannon, clash of sword.
All in vain the expiation,
With the fresh blood of the nation;
All in vain our strength and might;
We had seen our fate impending,
We were to destruction tending,
Lest we battle for the right.
Since the mighty words were spoken,
"Every bond is hereby broken,
And our Nation shall be free,"
We, with heart and hand united,
And with faith all newly plighted,
Have pressed on to victory.
Onward still! ye brave and fearless,
With a cause no longer cheerless;
Forward march and firmly stand,
In the ranks where noble brothers,
Best beloved of wives and mothers,
Battle for their native land.
Turn not back, nor yield, nor falter,
If upon thy Country's altar,
Thou shouldst perish in the strife;
Shrink not, let the Nation's honor--
Freedom, with no stain upon her,
Be more precious far than life.
Glorious birth-day of the Nation!
Faithful, fearless proclamation!
Weapon forged by powerful hand;
Bravely wielded from this hour,
It shall crush with mighty power,
Treason throughout all the land.
Theodore E. Baker.
Theodore E. Baker, a graduate of the University of Rochester, in the class of 1857, was associated with the author, as one of the faculty of the Brockport, N.Y., Collegiate Institute, being Professor of Languages therein from 1857 to 1860. He enlisted in the Chicago "Board of Trade Battery," August 1, 1862, for three years' service, and died at Murfreesboro, Tennessee, June 1, 1863.
THERE are sorrowing, mourning hearts to-day,
For this patriot son, who has passed away
From the warring, tumultuous scenes of Earth;
And ere I speak of his manly worth,
I would pause with them, who held him dear,
To shed in sorrow, a mourner's tear.
For this patriot son, who has passed away
From the warring, tumultuous scenes of Earth;
And ere I speak of his manly worth,
I would pause with them, who held him dear,
To shed in sorrow, a mourner's tear.
I knew him as generous, noble and kind,
Rich in treasures of heart and mind,
Amiable, gentle, courageous and just,
Ever faithful in duty, true in his trust;
Thus rarely combining the virtues that blend,
In the faithful instructor, son, brother and friend.
When the Nation called to her valiant sons,
He, with ready voice replied, "I come;"
For could she ask in her hour of need,
And a son so loyal take no heed?
Manfully, cheerfully, left he all
That he loved on Earth, when he heard that call.
Bravely he fought, and long, and well,
Unharmed by the death-charted shot or shell,
While thickly around, on every side,
Wounded and bleeding, his comrades died,
And those who loved him trusted that he
Would live to rejoice in our Nation free.
When the fearful din of the battle was o'er,
And the boom of cannon was heard no more,
But shrieks of anguish were rending the air,
And the moans of the dying heard everywhere,
It was his to soothe the sinking heart,
And strength of hope, and faith impart.
But alas! for the toil of that fatal day,
To disease and exhaustion he fell the prey;
Though he perished not in the bloody strife,
To the Nation's cause he gave his life.
Methinks that for many such offering given,
Our jewels of Earth must win favor from Heaven.
Alas! alas! for our bleeding land,
There is sorrow and mourning on every hand,
For all our grand triumphs, so valiant to gain,
Sad tears of bereavement are falling like rain.
O, remember each fallen, each patriot son,
When ye shout with glad voices, the victory won.
There is sorrow and mourning on every hand,
For all our grand triumphs, so valiant to gain,
Sad tears of bereavement are falling like rain.
O, remember each fallen, each patriot son,
When ye shout with glad voices, the victory won.
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