yourself know nothing and for whom you care as little.
STANISLAUS.
Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favors call;
She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.
ALEXANDER POPE—In _The Temple of Fame_.
So long as we love, we serve. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.
Happiness can be attained only by considering the good of others as
our own. TOLSTOI.
Love gives itself to others, and inclines to extremest sacrifice.
TOLSTOI.
To give up seeking one’s own happiness, as animals, is the true law of
the life of humanity. TOLSTOI.
When we help someone else, we add to our own resources and power. DR.
EUGENE UNDERHILL.
If we cannot live so as to be happy, let us at least live so as to
deserve happiness. FICHTE.
He serves most who serves his country best. ALEXANDER POPE.
They never fail who die in a good cause. BYRON.
Coarseness and roughness lock doors and close hearts; courtesy,
refinement and gentleness are “open sesame” at which bolts fly back
and doors swing open. WILLIAM MATTHEWS.
The years of unsheltered days and nights, the sun and storm, the dews
and damps have done their work and now with bitter tears I turn my
face away from the land I have loved so well and seek in a foreign
clime, perchance, a little of the good strength once lent me here.
CLARA BARTON.
Reserve your energies, doing those little things that be in your way,
each as well as you can, so that when God shall call you to do
something good and great you will be ready to do the work quickly and
well. CLARA BARTON.
We question whether there has been any man or woman in the whole
world’s history who has been a greater blessing to mankind than Clara
Barton. _Topeka Daily Journal._
Clara Barton stands as the complete refutation of the spirit of the
age that either great wealth, social position or political power is
necessary to the achievement of success.
_The Universalist Leader_ (Boston).
Life is giving one’s self to save others. CLARA BARTON.
Grace was in all her steps, heav’n in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love. MILTON.
OPEN HOUSE—COST OF FAME, SELF-SACRIFICE—BEST IN WOMAN
Clara Barton kept “open house.” She was “in” to everybody. One had but
to knock and enter. Expressive of her welcome, on one occasion she says:
“You will begin to feel the strings of welcome tugging at your footsteps
when you leave the cars, and will know that it is fastened firmly to the
knob of the door, pulling only the harder as the door swings wide open.”
At one time her Glen Echo home was filled with indigent, homeless
soldiers. About this time “Bessie Beech” was heard to say: “Clara Barton
really needs a guardian; she gives away everything she has and almost
starves herself. Recently she gave to her soldier friends in distress,
$800.00—all the money she had and is “strapped.” A well known
millionaire gave, fearing he might die _rich_; Clara Barton gave,
knowing that she must die _poor_. Giving,—that was Clara Barton’s whole
existence.” “All the world,” she says, “expects me to give something
every time it can get through the door or get a letter to me.”
“To pay respects” is a convenient excuse for imposing on good nature. To
pay respects to America’s humanitarian became a fad. She not only
personally answered 3,700 letters annually, besides her foreign
correspondence, but thousands of people every year called, on her “to
pay their respects.” On one occasion it would be for her to entertain
the First Lady of the Land, representatives of the Army, the Navy, the
Military, the Members of the Cabinet, the Members of Congress, the
Officers of the Bureau of Education—“Official Washington.” On another
occasion it was for her to entertain 600 members of the American Woman
Suffrage Association, headed by the President Susan B. Anthony. It was
for her almost daily to receive delegation after delegation, titled men
from Europe, “globe trotters,” “sight-seers,” “prominent officials”—and
to receive the “people who want something” all the time. If “the
greatest of all sacrifices is the sacrifice of time,” for others, Clara
Barton made a sacrifice theretofore without precedent,—“the sacrifice of
half a century.”
Fame is one’s misfortune. Clara Barton did not seek fame, she sought
work; fame was thrust upon her. It may be enjoyable to achieve fame, but
it is misery to be a slave to fame. Only when the possessor of fame is
dead can there come compensation—_that’s a monument_. A famous English
Cardinal moaned, “Would that I had served my God with half the zeal I
served my king!” A world-famed French philosopher soliloquized, “What a
heavy burden is a name that has become famous!” An immortal American
President said: “I wish I had never been born—my position is anything
but a bed of roses.” Again, in the nation’s darkest night, despairingly
this same President said: “Oh, if there is a man out of hell that
suffers more than I do I pity him.” Another, America’s most beloved
President, advised a small boy: “Grow up to be a good man, a useful man,
but don’t try to be President; it won’t pay you.” Responsive to an
admirer, who said “I helped to nominate you,” a world-famed President in
the afternoon of his release, with nerves shattered, from an invalid
chair commented: “Yes, you helped me into a lot of trouble.”
Even more than a famous man does a famous woman “belong to history and
self-sacrifice.” In the evening following an “afternoon at home” to a
thousand people, in full dress, and while sitting on the floor
entertaining her little children with their toys, America’s most famous
society entertainer and wife of a multimillionaire U. S. Senator, was
heard to say, “This is the only pleasure I get out of Washington
society.” To reach the heights of mere social fame is an achievement of
folly. To live in an atmosphere of social aristocracy is to live on a
desert-waste; the only attraction, the mirage that deceives.
On the steamer, while in ill health on her way to Europe, in her diary,
Clara Barton philosophizes: Is my life really worth while? I give all of
my time and strength to the public that seems unappreciative. In
obscurity I might have had health, at least personal comfort. I might
have married and had a home, a family of children; I might have taken up
painting or literature, in each of which my friends say I have ability.
In either of such life’s work I might have achieved success. As it is,
even while serving the public, I am alone in the world, buffeted about
and nobody seems to care for me unless to use me for some purpose. I
wonder whether or not any woman thinks her life a success? Oh, well, I
guess it was intended that I should do the work I am doing, forget
myself and live for others, so I might as well make the best of it and
try to be happy.
All organization is difficult; Clara Barton organized. She brought into
existence the machinery of the organization and her master mind,
unerring, directed the movements of every part of the machinery, “in a
way that the people knew what she had done and are more than satisfied.”
Without a title she occupied such a position as now must be filled by
the male executive of a great nation. In qualities feminine, in sympathy
tender, shrinking from publicity as no other woman in history, she
filled a public-service position as no man could fill it. To an audience
of women in Boston, another self-sacrificing woman who would serve the
human race, said: “Clara Barton is an epitome in her life and character
of all that is best in woman; she is what we would all like to be.”
XLV
She had all the royal makings of a queen. SHAKESPEARE.
She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen. HOMER—_Iliad_.
Clara Barton, America’s uncrowned queen.
HON. FRANCIS ATWATER.
We crown you in our minds and hearts as a “Queen Among Women.” B. H.
WARNER, Chairman, Public Reception, Washington, August 8, 1896, to
Clara Barton on her return from Turkey and Armenia.
Clara Barton’s “queenliness as a woman and womanliness as a queen”
endear her to our hearts beyond all words.
President Economics Club, Chicago, Ill.
Clara Barton should be exalted above queens.
Central Relief Committee of Galveston, Texas.
KNEELED BEFORE HER AND KISSED HER HAND
In 1902 the International Red Cross Conference was held at St.
Petersburg. At this conference the civilized nations of the world were
either indirectly or directly represented. The Czar and Czarina gave
Clara Barton a special audience. The Dowager Empress also gave her the
honor of a state dinner. Of all the delegates present Clara Barton was
the most sought after personage. Not only at St. Petersburg but wherever
she went throughout Europe, similar queenly honors were accorded Clara
Barton by rulers and world-famed military officers.
When they came into her presence and were introduced, as to a queen, the
greatest generals kneeled before her, and kissed her hand. They were
invariably profuse in compliments and in undisguised praise of her
services to humanity. Whenever the little, modest, timid woman attended
the sessions of the Conference as she entered the hall the whole
audience would rise to their feet and would remain standing while she
was walking down the aisle to take her seat, and this was not
infrequently accompanied by cheers and the waving of handkerchiefs, as
if in the presence of royalty.
Referring to Clara Barton, at a public reception, one of America’s great
women said: “No one loves a self-sacrificing woman as well as—as all
other good women.” In America, as in Europe, Clara Barton was honored as
has been no other American woman,—by the “First Lady of the Land,” by
the Julia Ward Howes, by the Frances Willards, by the Susan B. Anthonys,
by all great and good women—all recognizing her “queenliness as a woman
and womanliness as a queen,” and graciously willing to crown her “Queen
Among Women.” Writers also have referred to her as “The Angel of the
Battlefield,” “The Angel of the World’s Battlefields,” “The Beautiful
Lady of the Potomac,” “The American Lady with the Lamp,” “The Angel of
Peace,” “The Angel of Mercy,” “The Angel of Humanity,” “Our Lady of the
Red Cross.”
XLVI
Life at best is so exhaustive. FRANK W. GUNSAULIS, D. D.
Clara Barton was a soft-voiced little woman, yet she had a way of
approaching her work in the most telling manner.
_Buffalo Express._
The Stars make no noise. IRISH PROVERB.
The secret of my long life, “Hard work and low fare.”
CLARA BARTON.
A surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings.
MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM.
They are sick that surfeit with too much,
As they that starve with nothing.
MERCHANT OF VENICE.
This was the afternoon of Monday. Since Saturday noon I had not
thought of tasting food.
CLARA BARTON (At Battle of Chantilly).
You have the full record of my sleep—from Friday night till Monday
morning—two hours.
CLARA BARTON (Among the wounded at Chantilly).
At Cedar Mountain, among the wounded, Clara Barton had five days and
nights with only three hours’ sleep, and a narrow escape from capture.
PERCY H. EPLER.
I never think of weariness. CLARA BARTON.
Clara had some source of strength that we knew nothing about.
“SISTER HARRIETTE” L. REED.
Clara Barton’s endurance is unprecedented, and I have never known her
equal. SURGEON-IN-CHIEF A. MONAE-LESSER.
Gentleness, sweetness, quiet unobtrusiveness were her armor; from dawn
to midnight usually her working day; the frugal meal at Red Cross
headquarters was frequently prepared solely by her hand. CHARLES A.
BAKER, Treasurer, Red Cross.
Clara Barton: My working hours are fourteen out of the twenty-four.
Port Royal Nurse: You mean eighteen out of the twenty-four, Miss
Barton, don’t you?
I NEVER GET TIRED—EATING, THE LEAST OF MY TROUBLES
“Miss Barton, these workers say they are _starving_,” said “Sister
Harriette”; “it’s four o’clock, and they have had nothing to eat since
early morning.”
“Why, bless their dear hearts; I had forgotten all about them. Take them
to the restaurant across the street, and get them something to eat.”
“But, Miss Barton, you need a rest and something to eat as much as we
do.” “Oh, no, I never get tired, you know, and eating is the least of my
troubles.” Miss Barton kept at her work in the warehouse, unpacking and
repacking, preparatory to leaving.
In the dusk of the evening, her assistants returned and Miss Barton was
still there, alone, and at work. Turning to the workers Sister Harriette
said: “Did you ever see such a tireless worker? Miss Barton must have
some source of strength we know nothing about.”
The relief workers had cared for, provisioned and resettled in their
homes 30,000 negro refugees, victims of the cyclone and hurricane
disaster on the Carolina Islands. The party arrived at Beaufort late
that night; the “workers,” worn out; Clara Barton, as vigorous as when
the relief-work-campaign opened ten months before.
XLVII
Clara Barton, “Our Lady of the Red Cross”—her real life is measured by
deeds, not days—rich in the joy of service.
MARY R. PARKMAN—Author of _Heroines of Service_.
The ladies of Johnstown, Pennsylvania, presented Clara Barton with a
gold pin having a large diamond in the center. From it hung two small
gold chains to which was attached a superb gold locket with a
beautiful sapphire on the face of it. THE AUTHOR.
Clara Barton learned how to care for her many pets which lived in the
farm yard and was especially fond of horses. Her turkeys, dogs, geese,
and cats were added to Clara’s stock of pets. She also learned to milk
the cows. ENGLISH AUTHOR.
I was a very poor boy, hired on a flat-boat at $8.00 a month—if you
call this aristocracy, I plead guilty to the charge.
A. LINCOLN.
I have neither clerk nor typewriter; I still _aristocratically_ eat by
myself and do my own work. CLARA BARTON.
ROYALTY UNDER A QUAKER BONNET
Clara Barton had at Glen Echo a beautiful pet Jersey cow. This she
personally cared for, feeding and milking her morning and evening. While
milking the cow she would wear usually a plain black gown, white and
blue checked apron, a white shawl over her shoulders, and on her head a
brown, old-fashioned Quaker bonnet. As pendants on her breast there
would be the elegant Pansy pin, presented to her by the Grand Duchess of
Baden, and the Iron Cross of Prussia, presented to her by the Emperor of
Germany. These royal jewels she had promised the donors to wear as long
as she lived, and the promise she faithfully kept, whether she was in
the parlor entertaining guests or in the yard among the animals doing
the “chores.”
Miss Barton: What beautiful medals you are wearing.
Diplomat: Oh, yes, Miss Barton, but mine are from my own country,
while yours are from the whole world.
XLVIII
Clara Barton, a Christian-like spirit.
Pueblo (Colo.) _Chieftain_.
Clara Barton—no other woman has come so near the Christ Spirit.
Worcester (Mass.) _Gazette_.
Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils. JOHN MILTON.
This was the most unkindest cut of all. JULIUS CAESAR.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile. SHAKESPEARE.
The wicked plotteth against the just. PSALMS.
The black destroyers, the red torturers
Shall vanish—they like smoke shall disappear.
MOTHER ARMENIA.
Women always find their bitterest foes among their own sex.
J. PETIT-SENN.
’Twill not, false traitor!
’Twill not restore the truth and honesty
That thou hast banished from thy tongue with lies.
JOHN MILTON.
The traitor to humanity is the traitor most accursed. LOWELL.
The utmost ingenuity of metaphysics cannot
Excuse the man who wantonly wounds another.
BENJAMIN CONSTANT.
A woman’s shape doth shield thee. SHAKESPEARE.
Aunt Clara has only Christian forgiveness for others. STEPHEN E.
BARTON (Executor of the Clara Barton estate, 1911).
Clara Barton had no time to hate; only time to serve, to live, to
give,—one of the greatest souls that ever came to earth.
ALICE HUBBARD.
STILL STAMPING ON ME—PERSONALLY UNHARMED
In a letter under date of November 20, 1905, Clara Barton said: “I thank
you for the clipping concerning Miss ——’s lecture. I have received
others not at all complimentary to me personally. I am learning some
very bad things of myself.
“I wonder whether it ever occurs to her that taking a reputation and
appropriating the work of another might be quite honest. I have,
however, nothing to say. I have done with it all and so long as I am
left _personally_ unharmed I expect nothing more. They have long ago
done everything else, and I have lived through it thus far. If they
think their work will progress faster, or show better, by still stamping
on me I shall not complain. I never have.”
The fairest action of human life
Is scorning to revenge an injury.
XLIX
Clara Barton—Let all flags fly at half-mast, and all the world stand
reverently with uncovered head.
_Richmond_ (Va.) _Leader_.
The world stands with uncovered head.
Chicago (Ills.) _Inter-Ocean_.
A grateful world pays tribute to her. Boston (Mass.) _Pilot_.
Her soul goes marching on. Boston (Mass.) _Journal_.
The pomp that is attendant on funerals feeds rather the vanity of the
living than does honor to the dead. ROCHEFOUCAULD.
Let me not be made to appear proud and fond of vain show, when I am
dead. JOHN BURROUGHS.
When her mother died Clara Barton wore no evidence of mourning. THE
AUTHOR.
Clara Barton said that death was only one of the things of life, a
part of life. She is not dead; I cannot even say she is away.
ALICE HUBBARD—In _The Fra_.
Clara Barton still lives. FATHER TYLER.
Great sorrows speak not. C. MARAT.
The deeper the sorrow the less the tongue has it. TALMUD.
Suspect that sorrow which is anxious to show itself. RUZZIK.
Some grief shows much love
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
ROMEO AND JULIET.
Excess of grief for the deceased is madness; for it is an injury to
the living and the dead knows it not. XENOPHON.
Christ never preached any funeral sermons.
REV. D. L. MOODY.
I cannot go to Heaven until my work is done. CLARA BARTON.
How often I have wondered whether or not the souls will know us in the
Great Beyond. CLARA BARTON.
The Red Cross is a peculiar institution, without nationality, race,
creed or sect, embracing the entire world in its humanizing bond of
brotherhood; without arbitrary laws or rules, and yet stronger than
armies and higher than thrones. CLARA BARTON.
The world is my country; to do good is my religion.
TOM PAINE.
I know no section. In the labors that have come to me the nations of
the world, and their strange tongues, have become my own. CLARA
BARTON.
Just to have seen the collection of flags from all over the world,
brought together through the mercy and loving kindness of one woman,
made us feel that a Peace Proclamation is not an improbable thing.
ALICE HUBBARD.
There flowed in upon Clara Barton blessings uttered in all tongues
known among men. Portland (Ore.) _Telegram_.
All nations shall call you blessed. MALACHAI.
AT THE MEMORIAL—“THE FLAGS OF ALL NATIONS”—A GOOD TIME
Charon, the ancient guide over the River Styx, was peculiarly equipped
to serve departing souls. Following the souls’ escape from earth,
mourning customs are as numerous as are tribes and nations, as varied as
are nationalities. At funerals, lives have been sacrificed, human forms
disfigured, mourners employed, bells rung, lighted candles used—to serve
their respective purposes, as have food, jewels, implements and weapons
at the “last resting place.”
Go, call for the mourners and raise the lament,
Let the tresses be torn and the garments be rent,—
Funerals and memorials sometimes are to honor the dead; sometimes to
cater to the vanity of the living; sometimes seemingly to strengthen an
organization, social, religious, political, but in every instance
following custom’s ways. Were not the public funeral display the custom,
it would be sacrilege—custom sanctifies barbarity. Averse to personal
display Clara Barton was also averse to the use of any custom of public
mourning.
At the memorial held in honor of America’s greatest humanitarian, soon
after her passing, the stage and the boxes of the theatre were decorated
with flags that had been given to Clara Barton by grateful nations. Some
were of silk, rich and magnificent; some, battle-stained and
bullet-scarred. Some she had carried on the battlefield along with the
Red Cross flag, the emblem to the sick, wounded and dying, that an Angel
of Mercy was winging her way to their presence. There were the flags of
England, Germany, Austria, Belgium, Italy, Norway, France, Russia, Cuba,
Prussia, Holland, Greece, Switzerland, Turkey—and the flag of the United
States.
To me remains nor place nor time;
My country is in every clime.
Anticipating that there might be a memorial for her by the Philadelphia
School of Nurses, Clara Barton thus advised the President: “Do not make
it a serious occasion; let the people laugh if they want to, and tell
stories and have a good time. There is no reason why it should be
serious.”
When I am dead, no pageant train
Shall waste their sorrows at my bier.
L
Clara Barton—a biography of absorbing interest.
Duluth (Minn.) _Tribune_.
Clara Barton wrote several golden pages in the history of the
brotherhood of man. Houghton (Mich.) _Gazette_.
“Amici! diem perdidimus” (Friends! we have lost a day), said Titus
when at the end of a day he had nothing memorable for his diary. THE
AUTHOR.
Nothing is of greater value than a single day. GOETHE.
A great library contains the diary of the human race.
GEORGE DAWSON.
The diary is greatly relied on by the writers of history, but—
CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER.
Tolstoi keeps a diary in which he notes down what he has been
thinking. Translator for Tolstoi.
Diaries tell their little tales with a directness, a candor conscious
or unconscious, a closeness of outlook which gratifies our sense of
security. Reading them is like gazing through a small pane of clear
glass. _Varia_—By AGNES REPPLIER.
A man’s diary is a record in youth of his sentiments, in middle age of
his actions, in old age of his reflections.
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
A well kept diary is one of the most interesting productions of human
industry—not the least benefit of a diary is that it produces a taste
for writing. REVEREND WILLIAM SUTTON, S. J.
We converse with the absent by letters, and with ourselves by
diaries—many of our greatest characters in public life have left such
monuments of their diurnal labors. ISAAC DISRAELI.
Her unpublished diaries and letters are my chief original sources of
information that the book should come forth with the force of an
autobiography. _The Life of Clara Barton_, by Epler.
Only two classes of people can keep diaries of unimportant
things—those who never have time to do anything else and those who
have stopped doing things. I have done neither. CLARA BARTON.
Clara Barton’s war diaries, and diaries of her travels, if published,
would be eagerly read by the people and be of great historic interest.
THE AUTHOR.
Clara Barton could say with Seneca: “I keep an account of my expenses;
I cannot affirm that I lose nothing, but I can tell you what I lose,
and why, and in what manner.” THE AUTHOR.
CLARA BARTON KEPT A DIARY
The diary is an important factor in literary culture, and likewise in
history. Diaries in some form are probably co-existent with the history
of man. Keeping diaries, however, was revived in the seventeenth
century. The best known diaries are those by Samuel Pepys and John
Evelyn, of England. In this country, among the many well known diarists
are John Quincy Adams and Henry David Thoreau. From youth continuous
through her long and eventful life, Clara Barton kept a diary. The
subject matter therein consists of routine daily work, travels, public
functions, personal opinions of people she met, and philosophizing,
which would fill volumes with interesting reading.
In her diary also she discussed questions of the day, public men, the
problem of life, spiritualism, religion, politics,—everything that
passes through the human mind, besides keeping account of every cent
expended and for what purpose. By reading her diaries, almost any friend
could find Miss Barton’s opinion of himself. Before retiring for the
night her custom, amounting almost to a religious one, was to write in
her diary the day’s events.