CHAPTER XII

THE RED CROSS IN PEACE

The Red Cross as organized in Europe, and as Clara Barton learned of

it there, had no ministry except in times of war. It was one of the

distinctive features of Clara Barton’s plan that the American Red

Cross should give service in any time of national, or possibly of

international, calamity. So far as the Red Cross existed by virtue

of an international treaty, its work was to care for the wounded of

the battle-field; but the American Red Cross, as incorporated in the

District of Columbia, and as operated under the direction of Clara

Barton, offered an agency immediately available for the relief of

suffering wherever the need was greater than could be met by local

benefactions.

It will be remembered that the first service of the American Red

Cross was in the autumn of 1881, in the forest fires of Michigan,

almost a year before the official accession of the United States to

the Treaty of Geneva. The report which reached Clara Barton and the

Nation that half the State of Michigan was on fire, was, of course,

an exaggeration, and she was not deceived by it, but she knew that

the need was greater than could be met by local philanthropy. Already

there had been organized a single unit of the Red Cross, at Dansville,

New York. Clara Barton flung out the Red Cross flag in front of her

home, and called her organization into activity. The two neighboring

cities of Rochester and Syracuse came immediately to her assistance.

Contributions which aggregated three thousand dollars were placed

immediately at her disposal. Miss Barton’s home became a center of

activity, a dépôt for the packing and shipping of supplies. The second

auxiliary of the Red Cross in the United States was organized at

Rochester, with a membership of two hundred and fifty; that at Syracuse

followed immediately. The total amount received and distributed by the

Red Cross in money and material amounted to eighty thousand dollars.

The Michigan fires brought to Miss Barton’s assistance Dr. Julian

B. Hubbell. She had known him in Dansville as an instructor in the

Seminary which was located there. She knew him as a man to be relied

upon. When the forest fires occurred, Dr. Hubbell was a medical student

in the University of Michigan. She wired him at once to proceed to

the scene of the fire and give her accurate information. Dr. Hubbell

reported that hundreds of people had been suffocated and burned to

death in the rapid sweep of the flames, and that many thousands were

homeless and in need of shelter, food, clothing, and medical care.

Miss Barton at once commissioned Dr. Hubbell as field agent of the

Red Cross. This was the beginning of a relationship which was never

broken until the death of Clara Barton. Dr. Hubbell completed his

medical course, and was commissioned as general field officer of the

American National Red Cross. This position he occupied from 1881 until

her resignation in 1904. He was with her in every one of the American

fields of service; accompanied her to Turkey at the time of the

Armenian massacres; went with her to Cuba at the time of the Spanish

War; and was as indispensable to her as her own right hand. After the

termination of her presidency of the American Red Cross, he remained

near her, was with her in her last illness, and stood beside her when

she died. With her nephew Stephen, he accompanied her body to the old

home in Oxford and wept beside her grave. He was among the friends, and

their number was not small, who were faithful to her to the very end of

life.

It is not the purpose of the present author to relate in detail the

story of the work of the Red Cross during the next twenty-three

years. Clara Barton herself has done that in a large octavo volume of

nearly seven hundred pages. To that book reference must be had for

any adequate idea of her service for almost a quarter of a century.

Almost every year beheld a calamity of sufficient magnitude to call for

the official activity of the American Red Cross. The mere list of the

fields of its service is notable:

1881, the Michigan forest fires.

1882, the Mississippi River floods.

1883, the Mississippi River floods.

1883, the tornado in Louisiana and Alabama.

1883, the Balkan War.

1884, the Ohio and Mississippi River floods.

1885, the Texas famine.

1886, the Charleston earthquake.

1888, the tornado at Mt. Vernon, Illinois.

1888, the Florida yellow-fever epidemic.

1889, the Johnstown flood.

1892, the Russian famine.

1893, the tornado at Pomeroy, Iowa.

1893 and 94, the hurricane and tidal wave in the South Carolina

islands.

1896, the Armenian massacres in Turkey in Asia Minor.

1898 to 1900, the Cuban Reconcentrado relief.

1898, the Spanish-American War.

1900, the Galveston storm and tidal wave.

1904, the typhoid fever epidemic at Butler, Pennsylvania.

In almost every instance Clara Barton went in person to the field.

Where she went was order, efficiency, sympathy, and comfort. In the

days of the Civil War the official sign of a hospital was the yellow

banner, still used in the quarantine service to designate a hospital

for the treatment of contagious diseases. It was and is a respectable

and worthy emblem, but there was nothing very inspiring about it.

Where Clara Barton went on her missions of mercy, two flags floated,

the Stars and Stripes and the beautiful white flag with its cross of

blazing red.

Clara Barton loved the color red. The red rose was the flower of her

family. A dash of red she almost invariably had about her clothing

somewhere. It was altogether in keeping with her personal tastes that

the emblem which came to symbolize her life-work was of the color

which never failed to gladden her eye. In 1881 she set out, as she

herself related in her first article for the Associated Press, to make

the name and emblem of the Red Cross as familiar in America, as for

many years it had been in almost every other civilized nation. She

succeeded in doing this, not simply by a campaign of publicity, but by

the practical agency of applied mercy. When fire or famine or flood

devastated a region, and its victims were homeless and despairing, and

local agencies for relief were overworked and working aimlessly or at

cross-purposes, the unfurling of the flag of the Red Cross was the sign

of hope. It meant not only human kindness and sympathy, but confidence

and efficiency and success.

From every one of these twenty fields Clara Barton came back laden down

with the grateful testimonials of the communities to which she had

brought comfort and help.

A very brief outline of her work in these several fields may be

summarized from her own reports. The work for the Michigan forest

fires has already been referred to, and reference has been made to the

first expedition of the Red Cross for the relief of the sufferers from

the Mississippi floods. A further word should be said concerning the

service of the Red Cross during the floods, and then a brief summary of

the work in each of the other fields.

MISSISSIPPI AND OHIO RIVER FLOODS--1882-83

The spring rise of the waters of the Mississippi brought great

devastation, and a cry went over the country in regard to the

sufferings of the inhabitants of the Mississippi Valley. For hundreds

of miles the great river was out of its bed and raging madly over the

country, sweeping in its course not only the homes, but often the

people, the animals, and many times the land itself. This constituted

a work of the relief clearly within the bounds of the civil part

of our treaty, and again we prepared for work. Again our infant

organization sent its field agent, Dr. Hubbell, to the scene of

disaster, where millions of acres of the richest valley, cotton and

sugar lands of America, and thousands upon thousands of homes under

the waters of the mightiest of rivers--where the swift-rising floods

overtook alike man and beast in their flight of terror, sweeping them

ruthlessly to the Gulf beyond, or leaving them clinging in famishing

despair to some trembling roof or swaying tree-top till relief could

reach and rescue them.

The National Association, with no general fund, sent of its personal

resources what it was able to do, and so acceptable did these prove

and so convincing were the beneficences of the work that the cities of

Memphis, Vicksburg, and New Orleans desired to be permitted to form

associate societies and work under the National Association. This was

permitted, and those societies have remained until the present time,

New Orleans organizing for the entire State of Louisiana. The city

of Rochester, proud and grateful of its success in the disaster a few

months before, again came to the front and again rendered excellent

service.

In the spring of 1883 occurred the first great rise of the Ohio River;

one thousand miles in extent. This river, although smaller than the

Mississippi, is more rapid in its course, and its valleys hold the

richest grain lands, the most cultivated farms, representing, in fact,

the best farming interests of America.

The destruction of property was even greater here than in the

cotton and cane lands of the Mississippi. Again our field agent was

dispatched and did excellent work. The entire country was aroused, and

so liberal were the contributions to the various committees of relief

that when Dr. Hubbell retired from the field, having completed the

work, he had still unexpended funds in hand. But they were soon needed.

THE LOUISIANA AND MISSISSIPPI TORNADO OF 1883

In less than a month occurred the fearful tornado of Louisiana and

Mississippi, which cut a swath clear of all standing objects for

thirty miles in width and several hundred miles in length, running

southeast from the Mississippi River to the Gulf of Mexico.

Our special agent for the South, Colonel F. R. Southmayd, took charge

of the Red Cross relief in this disaster, and so efficient was his

work that societies struggled for organization under him and the Red

Cross was hailed as a benediction wherever he passed. This was in May,

1883.

Our association now enjoyed for eight months a respite from active

work. It was surely needed. It was the longest rest we had yet known,

and afforded some small opportunity to gather up its records of

past labors, organize some societies, and compile a history of the

Red Cross, so much needed for the information of our people and so

earnestly asked for by them as well as by the United States Senate.

THE OHIO RIVER FLOODS OF 1884

The rapidly melting snows of February, 1884, brought the thousand

miles of the Ohio River again out of its bed. A cry went out all

over the country for help. The Government, through Congress, took

immediate action and appropriated several hundred thousand dollars for

relief, to be applied through the War Department. The Red Cross agents

must again repair to the field, its societies be again notified.

But its president felt that, if she were to be called every year

to direct the relief work of the association in these inundations,

it was incumbent upon her to visit the scene in person, to see for

herself what floods were like, to learn the necessities and be able to

direct with the wisdom born of actual knowledge of the subject; and

accordingly, with ten hours’ preparation, she joined Dr. Hubbell on

his way and proceeded to Pittsburgh, the head of the Ohio River. There

the societies were telegraphed that Cincinnati would be headquarters

and that money and supplies should be sent there. This done, we

proceeded to Cincinnati by rail.

Any description of this city upon our entrance would fall so far short

of the reality as to render it useless.

The surging river had climbed up the bluffs like a devouring monster

and possessed the town; large steamers could have plied along its

business streets; ordinary vocations were abandoned. Bankers and

merchants stood in its relief houses and fed the hungry populace,

and men and women were out in boats passing baskets of food to pale,

trembling hands stretched out to reach it from third-story windows of

the stately blocks and warehouses of that beautiful city. Sometimes

the water soaked away the foundations and the structure fell with

a crash and was lost in the floods below; in one instance seven

lives went out with the falling building; and this was one city, and

probably the best protected and provided locality in a thousand miles

of thickly populated country.

It had not been my intention to remain at the scene of disaster,

but rather to see, investigate, establish an agency, and return to

national headquarters at Washington, which in the haste of departure

had been left imperfectly cared for. But I might almost say, in

military parlance, that I was “surprised and captured.”

I had made no call beyond the Red Cross societies,--expected no

supplies from other sources,--but scarcely had news of our arrival

at Cincinnati found its way to the public press when telegrams of

money and checks, from all sides and sources, commenced to come in,

with letters announcing the sending of material. The express office

and freight depots began filling up until within two weeks we were

compelled to open large supply rooms, which were generously tendered

to the use of the Red Cross. A description could no more do justice

to our flood of supplies than to the flood of waters which had made

them necessary--cases, barrels and bales of clothing, food, household

supplies, new and old; all that intelligent awakened sympathy could

suggest was there in such profusion that, so far from thinking

of leaving it, one must call all available help for its care and

distribution.

The Government would supply the destitute people with food, tents, and

army blankets, and had placed its military boats upon the river to

rescue the people and issue rations until the first great need should

be supplied.

The work of the Red Cross is supplemental and it sought for the

special wants likely to be overlooked in this great general supply and

the necessities _outside_ the limits of governmental aid. The search

was not difficult. The Government provided neither fuel nor clothing.

It was but little past midwinter. A cyclone struck the lower half of

the river with the water at its greatest height and whole villages

were swept away in a night. The inhabitants escaped in boats, naked

and homeless. Hail fell to the depth of several inches and the entire

country was encased in sleet and ice. The water had filled the coal

mines, so abundant in that vicinity, until no fuel could be obtained.

The people were more likely to freeze than starve, and against this

there was no provision.

We quickly removed our headquarters from Cincinnati to Evansville,

three hundred miles below and at the head of the recent scene of

disaster. A new stanch steamer of four hundred tons’ burden was

immediately chartered and laden to the water’s edge with clothing and

coal; good assistants, both men and women, were taken on board; the

Red Cross flag was hoisted and, as night was setting in, after a day

of intense cold--amid surging waters and crashing ice, the floating

wrecks of towns and villages, great uprooted giants of the forest

plunging madly to the sea, the suddenly unhoused people wandering

about the river-banks, or huddled in strange houses with fireless

hearths--the clear-toned bell and shrill whistle of the _Josh V.

Throop_ announced to the generous inhabitants of a noble city that

from the wharves of Evansville was putting out the first Red Cross

relief boat that ever floated on American waters.

The destroyed villages and hamlets lay thick on either bank, and the

steamer wove its course diagonally from side to side calling the

people to the boat, finding a committee to receive and distribute,

and, learning as nearly as possible the number of destitute persons,

put off the requisite quantity of clothing and coal, and steamed away

quickly and quietly, leaving sometimes an astonished _few_, sometimes

a _multitude_ to gaze after and wonder who she was, whence she came,

what that strange flag meant, and, most of all, to thank God with

tears and prayers for what she brought.

In this manner the Red Cross proceeded to Cairo, a distance of four

hundred miles, where the Ohio joins the Mississippi River, which

latter at that time had not risen and was exciting no apprehension.

Returning, we revisited and resupplied the destitute points. The

Government boats running over the same track were genial and friendly

with us, and faithful and efficient in their work.

It should be said that, notwithstanding all the material we had

shipped and distributed, so abundant had been the liberality of the

people that, on our return to Evansville, we found our supply greater

than at any previous time.

At this moment, and most unexpectedly, commenced the great rise of

the Mississippi River, and a _second_ cry went out to the Government

and the people for instant help. The strongest levees were giving way

under the sudden pressure, and even the inundation of the city of New

Orleans was threatened. Again the Government appropriated money, and

the War Department sent out its rescue and ration boats, and again the

Red Cross prepared for its supplemental work.

In an overflow of the Mississippi, owing to the level face of the

country and the immense body of water, the valley is inundated at

times thirty miles in width, thus rendering it impossible to get

animals to a place of safety. Great numbers drown and the remainder,

in a prolonged overflow, have largely starved, the Government having

never included the domestic animals in its work of relief. This seemed

an omission of vital importance, both humanely and economically

considered, and the Red Cross prepared to go to the relief of the

starving animals of the Mississippi Valley. It would also supply

clothing to the destitute people whom the Government would feed.

The navigation of the Mississippi River calls for its own style of

boats and pilotage, the latter being both difficult and dangerous,

especially with the changed channels and yawning crevasses of a flood.

The steamer _Throop_ was left at Evansville and the _Mattie Bell_

chartered at St. Louis and laden with corn, oats, hay, meal, and salt

for cattle; clothing and cooking utensils for the destitute people;

tea, coffee, rice, sugar, and medicines for the sick; and as quickly

as possible followed the Government steamers leaving the same port

with rations of meat and meal.

We finished the voyage of relief, having covered the Ohio River from

Cincinnati to Cairo and back twice, and the Mississippi from St.

Louis to New Orleans and return, occupying four months’ time on the

rivers, in our own chartered boats, finishing at Pittsburgh and taking

rail for Washington on the first of July, having traveled over eight

thousand miles, and distributed in relief, of money and estimated

material, $175,000.

The Government had expended an appropriation from the Treasury on

the same waters of $150,000 in money, and distributed it well. The

difference was that ours was not appropriated; we gathered it as we

used it.

THE TEXAS FAMINE OF 1885-86

Occasional rumors reached us in the years 1885 and 1886 about a drouth

in Texas and consequent suffering, but they were so contradictory and

widely at variance that the public took little or no heed of them.

During the year of 1886 the Reverend John Brown, a North Presbyterian

minister, located at Albany, Shackelford County, Texas, began making

appeals by circular and oral address to the people of the Northern

States, in which he asserted that there were a hundred thousand

families in northwestern Texas who were utterly destitute and on the

verge of starvation. He stated that since the close of the war a large

number of poor families had been constantly crowding into Texas from

the Southern States principally, induced thither by land agents and

others, who gave glowing representations of the character of the soil

for farming purposes.

These poor people, by hard labor and industry, had been generally able

to make a living and nothing more. The last fall they had planted

wheat and other grain quite extensively, but the rains came not and

everything perished; and in the following spring and summer, too,

everything put into the ground was blasted by the hot winds, so that

not a thing was raised for man or beast. For fifteen months no rain

had fallen, and the condition of the people was pitiable and called

aloud to the charitable throughout the land for relief. They must be

carried through to the next summer or they would perish. At a meeting

of the citizens of Albany, Texas, they decided that the task of

relieving the sufferers was greater than the well-to-do people of the

State were able to undertake, and that an appeal should be made to the

good-hearted people of the North for immediate aid. The Governor of

Texas also published an appeal to the people of the whole land, asking

for food for these people. But as there was no concerned action, and

so many denials of the stories of suffering, little or nothing in the

way of relief work was accomplished for some time. Spasmodic attempts

were made, and some food for man and beast was contributed, but not

enough to relieve a hundredth part of the needy.

The Reverend Doctor Brown went to the State Capital and endeavored to

interest the Legislature in the matter, but there were seemingly so

much misunderstanding and unbelief, and so many conflicting interests

to reconcile, that he failed to receive any substantial assurances and

left the place in disgust. When the citizens of Texas could not agree

as to the necessities of their own people, it was not to be expected

that the citizens of the country would take much interest in them,

hence the relief movement languished from inanition.

About the middle of January, 1887, Dr. Brown came to Washington and,

as solicitor and receiving agent for the committee which had issued an

appeal to the country, appealed to me, as president of the American

National Red Cross, asking our organization to come to the relief of

the people, who were in a deplorable state, greatly needing food and

clothing. I immediately shipped to Texas all the stores that were then

in our warehouse, but they were no great quantity.

An appeal direct to the Red Cross required immediate attention, and I

at once sought a conference with President Cleveland, who was greatly

worried over the contradictory stories that were constantly printed,

and was anxious to learn the truth about the matter. When I said that

I should go to Texas and see for myself, he was greatly pleased, and

requested me to report to him the exact situation just as soon as I

had satisfied myself by personal investigation.

Dr. Hubbell and I proceeded directly to Albany, Texas, where we

arrived near the end of January. We were met by the leading citizens

and most heartily welcomed and accorded every privilege and attention.

We began our investigations at once in a systematic way, carefully

noting everything we heard and saw; and in the course of a two weeks’

trip over the afflicted region, we learned the extent of the need and

formulated plans for its relief.

Making Albany our object point, we traveled by private conveyance over

such territory as we thought sufficient to give a correct knowledge of

the condition of the country and the people. We met large numbers of

the residents, both collectively and at their homes, and learned from

them personally and by actual observation their condition and what

they had to depend upon during the next few months. It will be borne

in mind that when we entered upon this investigation little or no

relief had come from the State, and none was positively assured.

Almost no rain had fallen during a period of eighteen months; two

planted crops had perished in the ground, and the seed wheat sown the

previous fall gave no signs of life. The dust was rolling over the

great wind-swept fields, where the people had hidden their last little

forlorn hope of borrowed seed, and literally a heaven of brass looked

down upon an earth of iron.

Here were twenty to forty counties, of a size commensurate with Texan

dimensions, occupied by new settlers, making their first efforts in

the pioneer work of developing home life in an untried country, soil,

and climate. They had put their all into the new home and the little

stock they could afford for its use. They had toiled faithfully,

planted two and three times, as long as there was anything to plant

or sow, and in most instances failed to get back their seed. Many had

grown discouraged and left the country. The people were not actually

starving, but they were in the direst want for many of the necessities

of life, and it was only a matter of days when they would have reached

the condition of the _reconcentrados_ as we later found them in Cuba.

Hundreds of thousands of cattle had died for the want of food and

water, and their drying carcasses and bleaching bones could be seen in

every direction as the eye wandered over the parched surface of the

plains.

I at once saw that in the vastness of its territory and varying

interests the real need of these suffering communities was not

understood by the Texas people--it had not come home to them; but that

once comprehending, it would be their wish to have it known and cared

for by themselves and not by others outside of the State.

Assuring these poor people that their actual condition should be made

known to their own people, through the authoritative means of the

Red Cross, and that they should be speedily cared for, we bade them

farewell and hurried away to Dallas, where we intended to send out a

statement to the people of the State.

Arriving there, we sought an interview with Colonel Belo, of the

Dallas “News,” and laid before him the result of our observations.

He placed the columns of his paper at our disposal, and through them

we enlightened the people of the true status of affairs in their own

State. The response was as quick as it was gratifying, and thence

onward there was no further necessity for appealing to any one outside

of the State limits. Indeed, that act in the first place was the

greatest mistake, as to the average Texan, feeling a genuine pride in

the State’s wealth and resources, it savored of frauds and imposition,

and prejudiced him against the brother who would pass him by and

appeal to outsiders.

The Texas Legislature appropriated one hundred thousand dollars for

food, and in the meantime rain began to fall and the entire aspect

of affairs began to change for the better. But there were still many

needs unprovided for--clothing, fuel, seeds for gardens and fields,

live stock, and many other things--and it was necessary to place these

needs before the people. This the “News” took upon itself to do; and

upon my suggestion it opened a popular subscription and announced that

it would receive contributions of seed or cash and would publish the

same from day to day and turn them over to the constituted authorities

appointed to disburse them. In order to encourage the movement I

inaugurated it with the first subscription, and from that time until

now I do not believe any one has heard of any need in Texas that has

not been taken care of by her own people.

The Texas famine brought into sharp relief the ideals of Clara Barton

in emergencies of this character. It was at first proposed to meet the

situation by a Government appropriation; and a bill for such relief,

passed by both houses of Congress, was promptly vetoed by President

Cleveland. This veto brought severe criticism upon the President, but

Clara Barton sustained him. What was needed in such an emergency,

as she believed, was not to fly to Congress with appeals for an

appropriation, but to call upon the people to send relief through an

accredited agency that would account for the money and disburse it in

systematic fashion. Her success in the Texas famine abundantly proved

the wisdom of her course.

THE MOUNT VERNON, ILLINOIS, TORNADO

On Sunday, February 19, 1888, a destructive tornado occurred at Mount

Vernon, Illinois. Within three minutes after the fury of the storm had

struck the town, thirty people had been killed and scores of others

injured, and an immense amount of property destroyed.

To add to the horrors already wrought, fire broke out in a dozen

places. Those who were uninjured quickly came to the rescue, quenching

the flames and exerting themselves to relieve the unfortunate victims,

who were, in most cases, pinned down under the wreckage of their

houses. All night long these brave men and women worked, and when

morning came the few houses that remained standing were filled with

the dead and injured.

Appeals for assistance were sent out to the people of the country,

but, through an improper statement of the situation, the public

was misled, and, not realizing the pressing needs of the stricken

community, failed to take up the matter in a business-like manner, and

the town was left to suffer for a little of the great abundance that

was around them. In their extremity the despairing citizens appealed

to the Red Cross for aid, which responded at once.

A most deplorable situation was presented: the people were homeless

and helpless, neglected, and in a state of mind bordering on insanity.

After a somewhat hasty examination of the situation, the following

simple message was sent to both the Associated and the United Press:

The pitiless snow is falling on the heads of three thousand people who

are without homes, without food or clothing and without money.

CLARA BARTON

With only this little word to explain the needs, our generous American

people responded promptly and liberally, as they always do when they

fully understand what is needed.

It was unnecessary to remain longer than two weeks with these people,

who, as soon as they recovered from the first shock of their great

misfortune, and when they felt that kind friends were by their side,

lending them moral and substantial support, manfully commenced to

bring order out of chaos, to rebuild their town and resume their usual

vocations. Large quantities of relief supplies of all kinds quickly

came to hand, and, when we were ready to leave them, the Citizens’

Committee had in its treasury a cash balance of ninety thousand

dollars. And thus, with their blessings ringing in our ears, we left

them.

THE YELLOW FEVER EPIDEMIC IN FLORIDA IN 1888

During the month of August, 1888, yellow fever broke out in

Jacksonville, and in September it was declared to be epidemic, the

usual alarm and exodus of citizens taking place. On September 8,

heroic measures to depopulate the city were taken. Every person that

was still well and could leave was requested to go; very little urging

was necessary. Camps were established outside of the city, where those

who had not the means to go farther and get better quarters were

enabled to live under medical surveillance, and away from the seat of

infection.

The mayor of Jacksonville had made an appeal for doctors and nurses,

which had been quickly responded to, and they were doing everything

possible to attend to the rapidly increasing number of patients.

On the formation of the Red Cross Society of New Orleans in 1893,

it had been carefully and wisely arranged that, in case of yellow

fever becoming epidemic in any place, no unacclimated persons, or

those not immune, should be sent as assistants by the Red Cross. New

Orleans was the home of the famous “Old Howard Association,” that

had won its reputation and worn its grateful renown from the horrors

of Memphis to the present time. This body freely united with the Red

Cross of New Orleans, and it was arranged that the Southern States,

through this society, should provide all Red Cross nurses for yellow

fever, and that the northern portion of the country should raise the

money to pay and provide them. We felt this to be a security, and an

immediate provision which the country had never before known. Fearing

that this might not, at its first inception, be fully understood,

I called at once on Dr. Hamilton, then in charge of the Marine

Hospital, explaining it to him, and offering all the nurses that

could be required, even to hundreds, all experienced and organized

for immediate action. Perhaps it was not strange that a provision,

so new and so unknown in the sad history of plagues and epidemics,

should have seemed Utopian, and as such been brushed aside as not only

useless, but self-seeking and obtrusive. Like the entire organization

of which it was a part, it had to wait and win its way against custom

or even prejudice, by honest worth and stern necessity. It was the

“old, old story.” The world takes reform hard and slow.

As it was, however, we did what we could. Headquarters were

established at the Riggs House in Washington. The good-hearted people

of the North, who felt that they must go to Florida, had by some means

gotten the idea that they must have a pass from the Central Committee

of the Red Cross in order to go. They came to us in hundreds and

were mercifully held back from a scourge for which they would have

been both food and fuel, whilst the entire people of the country,

in pity and horror at the reports received, were holding meetings,

raising money, and pouring funds like water into the doomed city of

Jacksonville, where the scourge had centered, and to which every

effort was made to confine it.

Not realizing the opposition there might prove to be to our nurses,

we called upon their old-time leader, Colonel F. R. Southmayd,

the efficient secretary of the Red Cross Society of New Orleans,

instructing him to enlist a body of nurses and take them at once to

the fever district. He enlisted thirty, both men and women, white and

colored, took a part with him, the remainder following next day.

Refugees who had fled from Jacksonville carried the plague to several

smaller places in the surrounding country, where in some instances it

acquired quite a foothold; but, owing to their obscurity and the lack

of communication with the outside world, they were left alone to fight

the disease as best they could. Among these places was the little town

of MacClenny, where, as soon as it became known that there was a case

of fever within its limits, all trains were ordered to rush through

without stopping, and an armed quarantine was placed around it with

orders to shoot any one attempting to leave the town. Thus left to

their fate, without doctors, nurses, or food, in any quantity, their

situation was pitiable. There were a number of volunteers who had made

attempts to get into MacClenny, but, owing to the unreasoning panic

existing, they were not permitted to enter the place.

Colonel Southmayd had heard of these neglected people, and he

succeeded while _en route_ to Jacksonville in dropping off ten nurses

so much needed at MacClenny. How he did this, I have told in a little

brochure entitled “The MacClenny Nurses,” that was issued at the close

of the year 1888.

The fever spread during the fall to several points in Georgia,

Alabama, and Mississippi, and resulted in the usual panic and flight

from many places; but happily the disease got no great headway before

the frost put an end to its career.

It was late in November when we closed this work; worn and

disheartened as we were by both the needful and the needless hardships

of the campaign, we were glad of the two or three months in which no

call for action was made upon us.

THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD OF 1889

On the 30th of May, 1889, occurred the calamity of Johnstown,

Pennsylvania, with all its horrors. So frightful and improbable were

the reports that it required twenty-four hours to satisfy ourselves

that it was not a canard.

In order to get an intelligent idea of this disaster and the terrible

damage wrought by the irresistible waters, it may be well to give a

short sketch of the city of Johnstown and its adjacent surroundings.

Before the flood there were thirty thousand people in this busy

community, which embraced the city of Johnstown proper and numerous

suburbs. The city is situated at the junction of Stony Creek and the

Little Conemaugh, forming the Conemaugh River. These streams are

liable to sudden overflows, and, owing to the contraction of the

waterway in the lower part of the city by the dumping of cinders and

slag from the large ironworks on the banks of the stream, and also

encroachments by riparian owners, the upper portion of the city is

liable to inundations. About nine miles above the city a dam had been

thrown across the Little Conemaugh River many years ago for commercial

purposes, but had been abandoned and the site with much surrounding

property had been subsequently purchased by a sporting club, whose

membership embraced some of the wealthiest citizens of Pennsylvania.

These gentlemen were attracted by the picturesque scenery and the

hunting and fishing of the vicinity, and they spent thousands of

dollars in improving and beautifying their holdings. The dam was

raised to a height of over seventy feet and held an immense body of

water covering many acres.

This large mass of water was a constant source of fear to the

inhabitants of the lower valleys, who were aware of the danger that

threatened them, and many protests were made against the continuance

of the danger; but owing to the prominence of the owners of the dam,

and the strong social and political influence they exerted, they

remained unmolested in the possession of the monster that was to break

its bounds and carry death and destruction in its pitiless pathway.

A steady rainfall for several days in the latter part of May caused

overflows in all the streams in western Pennsylvania, and much of the

city of Johnstown was already under water to a depth of from two to

ten feet, when suddenly the dam over the Little Conemaugh gave way,

and its flood, resembling a moving mountain of water thirty feet high,

was precipitated upon the doomed city. Numbers of the inhabitants,

who had carried the fear of this disaster in their minds for years,

had become so alarmed by the long-continued rains, and the floods

that were already upon them, took their families and fled to the high

grounds on the hillsides. But the great majority of the people, who,

though fully aware of the danger, had lived with it so long that they

had become careless and indifferent, took no precautions whatever.

These were overwhelmed by the tide almost without warning, and before

they could seek safety were swept away.

The number of lives lost will never be accurately known; but in all

probability it reached in the entire valley nearly five thousand. It

is said that property to the amount of twelve millions of dollars was

absolutely lost.

It was at the moment of supreme affliction when we arrived at

Johnstown. The waters had subsided, and those of the inhabitants who

had escaped the fate of their fellows were gazing over the scene of

destruction and trying to arouse themselves from the lethargy that had

taken hold of them when they were stunned by the realization of all

the woe that had been visited upon them. How nobly they responded to

the call of duty! How much of the heroic there is in our people when

it is needed! No idle murmurings of fate, but, true to the godlike

instincts of manhood and fraternal love, they quickly banded together

to do the best that the wisest among them could suggest.

For five weary months it was our portion to live amid these scenes

of destruction, desolation, poverty, want, and woe; sometimes in

tents, sometimes without; in rain and mud, and a lack of the commonest

comforts, until we could build houses to shelter ourselves and those

around us. Without a safe, and with a dry-goods box for a desk, we

conducted financial affairs in money and material to the extent of

nearly half a million dollars.

When our five months’ work was completed, we had only to turn over to

the hands of the leaders of the town, our warehouse with its entire

remaining stock, amounting to some thousands of dollars; the care

of the infirmary; one of our trained clerks, with all papers and

accounts of our relief work from the day of its inception; one of

our experienced working men to handle transportation--to fit up for

them large, warm rooms for winter use; give them our blessing; accept

theirs in fullest measure; say good-bye to them and to our faithful

helpers, with heavy hearts and choking voices, and return to our home,

bearing the record of a few months of faithful endeavor among a people

as patient and brave as people are made, as noble and grateful as

falls to the lot of human nature to be. Enterprising, industrious,

and hopeful, the new Johnstown, phœnix-like, rose from its ruins more

beautiful than the old, with a ceaseless throb of grateful memory for

every kind act rendered, and every thought of sympathy given her in

her great hour of desolation and woe. God bless her, and God bless all

who helped save her!

We had employed during our sojourn in Johnstown a working force of

fifty men and women, whom we had housed, fed, and paid, with the

exception of the volunteers who worked for the good they could do and

would accept nothing. The means which we so largely handled came from

everywhere; accounts were rendered for everything, and no word of

business complication ever came to us. There never has in all our work.

There was much to do in Johnstown after we left; buildings to remove

and property to care for when it had served its purpose and the ground

became needed. But there is always a right time for any benevolent

work to cease; a time when the community is ready to resume its own

burdens, and when an offered charity is an insult to the honest and

independent, and a degradation to the careless and improvident,

tending to pauperize and make them an added burden on their

better-minded fellow citizens. And then, the moment the tradesman is

able to reëstablish himself, he looks with jealous eyes on any agency

that diverts possible business from his channels. Thus it is not only

wise, but just to all concerned to withdraw all gratuities from a

people the instant they are able to gain even a meager self-support.

A rather curious circumstance, somewhat on the line of this

reflection, fell to our lot after leaving Johnstown. The houses that

we had built and furnished were indispensable to the tenants during

the winter, when there were no other houses to be had; but in the

spring the city, rejuvenated, began to build up again, and we were

notified that the land on which our large houses were standing was

needed by the owners, who wished to use it for their own purposes, and

they requested the Red Cross to remove its buildings. We promptly sent

an agent to attend to the matter, and he began the work of vacating

the premises. There was no hardship involved in this, as all the

tenants were by this time in condition to pay rent, the relief fund of

$1,600,000 having been distributed among them in proportion to their

losses, and there were houses that they could get; in a few days our

houses were empty. Then a new factor entered into the situation. When

it became generally known that the Red Cross must remove these immense

houses, and that a large quantity of lumber and house furnishings

were to be disposed of, the self-interests of the dealers in those

commodities were at once aroused, and they strongly protested against

the gratuitous distribution of those articles among the people of

Johnstown, asserting that the inhabitants were now prospering and had

the means to buy everything they needed, and that a gift from us of

any of these things would be an injustice to the honest traders who

were trying to reëstablish themselves.

We saw the justice of their objection and gave assurances that no

injury should be done them; still, to have fully conformed to their

idea and transported the entire material to some other point would

have put the Red Cross to an amount of trouble and cost unjust to

itself.

I am not prepared to say that our quiet field agent in charge of the

work did not find resting-places for very much of this material in

still needy homes, where it did no harm to any one and for which no

one but the pitiful recipients were the wiser.

Notwithstanding the fact that we took away from Johnstown as little

material and furniture as was possible, after quietly disposing of

the greater part of it, and this at an expense and inconvenience

to ourselves which we could ill afford, there were those who could

not understand why we should take _anything_ away; and their unkind

misconstruction and criticisms have scarcely ceased echoing even to

this late day.

The paths of charity are over roadways of ashes; and he who would

tread them must be prepared to meet opposition, misconstruction,

jealousy, and calumny. Let his work be that of angels, still it will

not satisfy all.

There is always an aftermath of attempted relief where none is needed,

and more or less criticism of any work, for it is always so much

easier to say how a thing ought to be done than it is to do it.

These little unpleasantnesses, however, cannot deprive us of the

thousand memories of gratitude, appreciation, and kindnesses

exchanged, which were mutually helpful; nor of the many lifelong

friendships formed which will bless us all our day.

As Miss Barton was leaving Johnstown the “Daily Tribune” of that city

published the following editorial:

How shall we thank Miss Clara Barton and the Red Cross for the help

they have given us? It cannot be done; and if it could, Miss Barton

does not want our thanks. She has simply done her duty as she saw

it and received her pay--the consciousness of a duty performed

to the best of her ability. To see us upon our feet, struggling

forward, helping ourselves, caring for the sick and infirm and

impoverished--that is enough for Miss Barton. Her idea has been fully

worked out, all her plans accomplished. What more could such a woman

wish?

We cannot thank Miss Barton in words. Hunt the dictionaries of all

languages through and you will not find the signs to express our

appreciation of her and her work. Try to describe the sunshine. Try to

describe the starlight. Words fail, and in dumbness and silence we bow

to the idea which brought her here. God and humanity! Never were they

more closely linked than in stricken Johnstown.

Governor Beaver of Pennsylvania expressed the appreciation of the

people of the State in the following letter:

In this matter of sheltering the people, as in others of like

importance, Miss Clara Barton, president of the Red Cross Association,

was most helpful. At a time when there was a doubt if the Flood

Commission could furnish houses of suitable character and with the

requisite promptness, she offered to assume charge, and she erected

with the funds of the association three large apartment houses which

afforded comfortable lodgings for many houseless people. She was among

the first to arrive on the scene of calamity, bringing with her Dr.

Hubbell, the field officer of the Red Cross Association, and a staff

of skilled assistants. She made her own organization for relief work

in every form, disposing of the large resources under her control with

such wisdom and tenderness that the charity of the Red Cross had no

sting, and its recipients are not Miss Barton’s dependents, but her

friends. She was also the last of the ministering spirits to leave

the scene of her labors, and she left her apartment houses for use

during the winter, and turned over her warehouse, with its store of

furniture, bedding and clothing and a well-equipped infirmary, to the

Union Benevolent Association of the Conemaugh Valley, the organization

of which she advised and helped to form; and its lady visitors have

so well performed their work that the dreaded winter has no terrors,

mendicancy has been repressed, and not a single case of unrelieved

suffering is known to have occurred in all the flooded district.

THE RUSSIAN FAMINE OF 1891-92

To understand properly the Russian Famine of 1891-92, and the relief

work of the Red Cross connected therewith, one needs to keep in mind

the ordinary moral and economic condition of the Russian peasantry.

They were, many of them, not long ago serfs attached to the land

in a condition but little better than American slaves. Though the

liberation of the serfs made their legal condition better, it left

them in condition scarcely less discouraging than before. They were

subject to all the disabilities of hard bargains on every side, from

the exactions of taxes levied in one way or another, and payable

in services or goods, all of which called for an ever-increasing

sacrifice. They were subject to onerous military service, and penal

exactions for violations of the law. These conditions surrounded

them with an atmosphere of depressing poverty, fear, and hopeless

endurance, if not of despair. They have not felt the stimulating

habitual influence of hope, of courage, of enterprise. They are not

educated to surmount discouragements by overcoming them. Difficulties

do not down easily before them; they go down before difficulties and

disasters in something like apathetic despondency, or live in an

amazing light-hearted, careless recklessness that easily turns to

drink, to idleness, weakness, disease, and early death. Fear is with

them always, as if fate was over and against them.

The climate of Russia is cold in winter, and the means of cooking and

artificial warmth are scanty, and not easily procured at any time;

thus, when the famine really came upon them, observers were divided in

opinion whether the famine, or fear of famine, or of something worse,

destroyed or paralyzed these people the more.

The harvest yields of 1889 and 1890 had been much less than an

average, and at the beginning of 1891 but little of the old supplies

of grain was left over. The harvest of 1891 was nearly a total

failure throughout a vast region in central Russia extending from

Moscow, roughly speaking, say, three hundred miles in a northeasterly

direction over a plain eight hundred to a thousand miles in width,

beyond the Ural Mountains, and some distance into Siberia in Asiatic

Russia--a district of nearly a million square miles. Ordinarily this

is the most productive part of the Empire, upon which the remainder

of the country had been accustomed to draw for food supplies in the

frequent cases of deficiency elsewhere. The appearance of the country

is similar to our prairie States in the early days before the growth

of the planted trees; and the soil is a rich, black loam that usually

produces good harvests.

It was estimated by those best qualified to judge that from thirty to

thirty-five millions of people were sufferers by the famine of 1891.

Count Tolstoy gave up his whole time to mitigating the suffering

caused by this great disaster, and to understanding the situation

broadly. He went into the homes of the people, and studied their

needs sympathetically; he placed himself by their side, and with his

dramatic instinct understood them, ascertained where the hurt was

felt, and how it could be cured, if it could be cured at all.

At that time the Count wrote of these poor unfortunates: “I asked them

what sort of a harvest they had had, and how they were getting along;

and they replied in a blithe, offhand manner: ‘Oh, right enough, God

be praised!’ And yet these people who reside in the most distressed

districts of the government of Toula, cannot possibly live through

the winter, _unless they bestir themselves in time_. They are bound

to die of hunger, or some disease engendered by hunger, as surely as

a hive of bees left to face the rigors of a northern winter, without

honey or sweets, must perish miserably before the advent of spring.

The all-important question, therefore, is this: Will they exert

themselves while yet they possess the strength, if, indeed, it be not

already wholly exhausted? Everything that I saw or heard pointed with

terrible distinctness to a negative reply. One of these farmers had

sold out the meager possessions which he could call his own, and had

left for Moscow to work or beg. The others stayed on and waited with

naïve curiosity watching for what would happen next, like children,

who, having fallen into a hole in the ice, or lost their way in a

dense forest and not realizing at first the terrible danger of their

situation, heartily laugh at its unwontedness.”

“Unless they bestir themselves in time”--what a text is this! They

are all the time overborne by the apathy of fear, of unused powers,

of suppression and depression. Courage, hope, enterprise to bestir

themselves, where will they come from? Not, surely, from fear and more

discouragement.

The work of the American National Red Cross in the Russian famine of

1891-92 was comparatively less than in some others of the conspicuous

fields in which it had done its work. The impulse to help in the

work of that relief sprang up simultaneously in many American hearts

and homes, in New York, in Philadelphia, in Minnesota, and Iowa.

In Iowa it took the form of a veritable crusade for a most holy

cause; beginning in the fervid and indomitable spirit of Miss Alice

French--the “Octave Thanet” of literature--it quickly enlisted Mr. B.

F. Tillinghast, editor of the “Davenport Democrat,” who became its

director-in-chief and organizing force, everywhere organizing it,

and promoting it in every direction and in every form. The movement

was taken up by the women of Iowa, and Governor Boies became a prime

mover, till the whole State at last joined in a triumphal march

bearing corn, God’s best gift to man, to the Atlantic coast in a

procession of two hundred and twenty-five carloads, exceeding five

hundred bushels in each car. The corn was consigned to Clara Barton in

New York and reached her agents there without accident or delay.

The American National Red Cross had authentic intelligence of the

famine in Russia before it had attracted general attention; it had

placed itself in communication with the Secretary of State, the

Honorable James G. Blaine, and the Russian Chargé d’Affaires at

Washington, Mr. Alexander Gregor, and had ascertained that Russia

would gladly receive any donations of relief that the people of

America might send to her famine-stricken people. Not only would

they receive supplies, but would send their ships for them, and

provide inland transportation from Russian ports to the destitute

people for whom these benefactions were intended. America declined

to allow her suffering sister nation to cross the seas to get this

food, and quickly arranged to carry it to her. All the American

agencies concerned in this movement met it in the noblest spirit;

railroad companies gave free transportation, telegraph companies the

free use of wires, brokers and steamship agents declined their usual

commissions, and some insurance companies even gave premiums for the

safe delivery of the precious cargo into the hands of the starving

people. Funds to charter a steamship to carry the cargo to Russia were

soon raised and placed in the hands of the Red Cross.

Dr. Hubbell, representative of the Red Cross to the international

conference of the Red Cross to be held at Rome, and authorized to

proceed to Riga and receive and distribute with the Russian Red Cross

this gift of Iowa, was already on his ocean voyage and ready to do

his part in this beautiful blending of international courtesies and

services that it is the mission of the Red Cross to devise and to

carry out wherever it can make or find the fitting opportunity. Dr.

Hubbell arrived on time at Riga and superintended the distribution of

the cargo.

THE SEA ISLANDS HURRICANE OF 1893-94

It is probable that there are few instances on record where a movement

toward relief of such magnitude, commenced under circumstances so new,

so unexpected, so unprepared, and so adverse, was ever carried on for

such a length of time and closed with results so entirely satisfactory

to both those served and those serving, as this disaster, which, if

remembered at all at the present day, is designated as the “Hurricane

and Tidal Wave of the Sea Islands off the Coast of South Carolina.”

The descriptions of this fearful catastrophe I shall leave to the

reports of those who saw, shared its dangers, and lived within its

tide of death. They will tell how from three thousand to five thousand

human beings (for no one knew the number) went down in a night; how

in the blackness of despair they clung to the swaying tree-tops till

the roots gave way, and together they were covered in the sands or

washed out to the reckless billows of the great mad ocean that had

sent for them; of the want, woe, and nothingness that the ensuing

days revealed when the winds were hushed, the waters stilled, and the

frightened survivors began to look for the lost home and the loved

ones, and hunger presaged the gaunt figure of famine that silently

drew near and stared them in the face; how, with all vegetable growth

destroyed, all animals, even to fowls, swept away, all fresh water

turned to salt--not even a sweet well remaining--not one little house

in five hundred left upright, if left at all; the victims with the

clothing torn and washed off them, till they were more nearly naked

than clothed--how these thirty thousand people patiently stood and

faced this silent second messenger of death threatening them hour by

hour. Largely ignorant, knowing nothing of the world, with no real

dependencies upon any section of its people, they could only wait

its charity, its pity, its rescue, and its care--wait and pray--does

any one who knows the negro characteristics and attributes doubt

this latter? Surely, if angels do listen, they heard pleading enough

in those hours of agony to save even the last man and woman and the

helpless babe. Something saved them, for there is no record of one who

died of starvation or perished through lack of care.

About the 28th or 29th of August, 1893, the press commenced to give

notice, such as it could get over wrecked roads and broken wires, of

a fearful storm coming up from the West Indies that had struck our

coast in the region of South Carolina, sweeping entirely over its

adjacent range of islands, known as the Old Port Royal group, covering

them from the sea to a depth of sixteen feet, with the wind at a rate

of one hundred and twenty miles an hour--that its destructive power

was so great that it had not only swept the islands, but had extended

several miles on to the mainland of the State.

I chanced to be familiar with the geography and topography of that

group of islands, having lived on them in the capacity of war relief

many months during the siege of Charleston in 1863-64. Knowing that

they scarcely averaged four feet rise above the sea level, with no

mountains, not even hills that could be called such, that the soft,

sandy soil could not be trusted to hold its tree roots firm, that the

habitations were only huts, to be washed away like little piles of

boards--I thought I saw no escape for the inhabitants and that _all_

must have perished; and so replied to all inquiries at first made as

to whether this were not a disaster for the Red Cross to relieve,

“No, there was nothing left to relieve.” Later and more reliable news

brought the astonishing fact that it was estimated that from thirty to

forty thousand had survived and were in the direst need. Was not this

a call for the Red Cross? Still more emphatically, “No; if that is the

case, it is beyond the Red Cross. Only the State of South Carolina or

the general Government can cope with that”; and again we closed our

ears and proceeded with our work.

But the first week of September brought pitiful paragraphs from

various Southern sources--one I recall from the governor of the State,

in which he proclaimed his perplexity and great distress at the

condition of these poor people, needing everything, and who, at that

season of the year, with crops all destroyed, would continue to need;

and closed by wondering “if the Red Cross could perhaps do anything

for them.”

It would not do to close our ears or eyes against this suggestion, and

I at once sought our congressional neighbor, General M. C. Butler, of

South Carolina, then in the Senate, asking his views. The response

was such as would not have been looked for in that busy, hard-worked

Senator, surrounded by a network of political wires, some of them only

too likely to be “live”; he dropped all business, telegraphed at once

to Governor Tillman at Columbia to learn the conditions, and urgently

requested us to go, and he would even leave his seat and go with us

as soon as we could be ready. Time is never a question with the Red

Cross, and the next night, in a dark, cheerless September mist, with

only two assistants, I closed a door behind me for ten months, went to

the station to meet General Butler, prompt and kind, and proceeded on

our way. At Columbia we were joyfully surprised at meeting Governor

Tillman, prepared to accompany us with a member of his staff, and thus

powerfully reënforced we made our entrance into Beaufort.

The work of relief had been wisely placed at first in the hands of

committees from both Beaufort and Charleston, comprising the best

business men of each city--its lawyers, merchants, bankers, all men of

prominence and known practical ability. They had done and were doing

all possible for them to do, with hearts full of pity, hands full of

work, themselves large losers by the storm, business nearly wrecked,

and needing every remaining energy for the repairing of their own

damages and those of the citizens about them.

The governor, at whose request they had formed, realizing the

necessities of the case, sought to release them, calling them

together in each city and successively relieving them, placing the

Red Cross in full charge of the relief. With the little knowledge we

had of the conditions and surroundings, it would have been madness to

accept, at least until both more knowledge and more numerical force

were gained, and the refusal was as prompt as the proffer had been.

We, however, promised to remain in Beaufort, meet with the committee

each day, advise with them, study the situation and report our

conclusions when we could safely arrive at them.

Thus we remained until the first day of October, realizing that the

relief coming in from outside would soon diminish as the excitement

should wear away, that the sum in hand was painfully small, that the

number of destitute was steadily increasing, that the winter was

approaching and that they must be carried through in some manner till

the next year’s crops could grow; and that, in order to do this a

fixed system of relief must be adopted, a rigid economy enforced, and

every person who could do so must be made to work for his food and

receive food and raiment only in return for labor; that this could

come only from persons who had no interests but these to subserve

and with the light of all experience that could be called to the

task. Even then a successful result was questionable; but there was

no question of the fatal result of any other course, and after a

thoughtful council of our official board (which had meanwhile become

nearly filled) on the night of September 30 it was decided that the

Red Cross would accept the appointment of the governor and enter upon

its duties the following day.

Accordingly, at the meeting of the next day, October 1, 4 P.M., the

Beaufort Relief Commission, as appointed by the governor, was formally

released as a committee and immediately reëlected by the Red Cross as

its “advisory board,” to meet and advise with us as we had done with

them.

Through all these years the tenderness springs to my heart and gathers

in my eyes as I recall the kindly and affectionate intercourse of

months, without one break, that grew up between us. And although some

have been called to higher service and greener fields, I am confident

that none of us will ever seek on this side a better, more trusted,

kindlier association than were found in these.

If it be desirable to understand when to commence a work of relief,

to know if the objects presented are actually such as to be benefited

by the assistance which would be rendered, it is no less desirable

and indispensable that one knows when to end such relief, in order to

avoid, first, the weakening of effort and powers for self-sustenance;

second, the encouragement of a tendency to beggary and pauperism,

by dependence upon others which should be assumed by the persons

themselves. It has always been the practice of the Red Cross to watch

this matter closely and leave a field at the suitable moment when it

could do so without injury or unnecessary suffering, thus leaving a

wholesome stimulus on the part of the beneficiaries to help not only

themselves individually, but each other.

Seldom a field, or any considerable work of relief which may have

attracted public notice, comes to a close that there does not some

person or body of persons arise and propose to continue the work

under some new form, but using the former well-established sources of

supplies; to put out new appeals to old patrons, detailing great need,

newly discovered, and thus keep the sympathetic public forever on the

anxious seats of never-ending pity and help. We have been compelled to

guard against this at the close of every long-continued field, notably

Johnstown, where it became necessary for the citizens to organize a

“Home Relief” to keep sensational strangers off the ground, and their

well-arranged “Benevolent Union” of to-day is the result.

The Sea Islands were no exception, and at the last moment of our stay

a well-drawn petition was discovered (for it was to be kept concealed

until we were gone), and was checked only by the vigorous aid of the

Charleston “News and Courier,” of June 25, 1894, always our stay and

friend in time of trouble.

ARMENIA IN 1895 AND 1896

In November, 1895, the press commenced to warn us of a possible

call for the relief of the terrible sufferings of Armenia, which

were engaging the attention of the civilized world. These warnings

were followed later by a letter from the Reverend Judson Smith,

D.D., of Boston, secretary of the American Board of Commissioners

for Foreign Missions, referring his suggestion back to the Reverend

Henry O. Dwight, D.D., of the American Board of Foreign Missions

at Constantinople. The American Red Cross was requested by these

representative gentlemen to undertake the distribution of relief

funds among the sufferers of Armenia. Owing to the disturbed

condition of the country and of its strict laws, combined as they

were with existing racial and religious differences, it was found

almost impossible at the moment to distribute the relief needed.

The faithful but distressed resident missionaries were themselves

helpless sufferers to a great extent and practically prisoners in

their own houses. These had not always been spared to them in the

wild excitement which reigned for several months previous, otherwise

they would have been the normal channels for distributing aid. This

written request from Dr. Smith was nearly identical with a similar one

from Mr. Spencer Trask, of New York, who, with others, was about to

form a National Armenian Relief Committee, to be established in that

city. Following their letters, both of these gentlemen, Dr. Smith and

Mr. Trask, came to Washington personally to urge our compliance with

the request that we accept the charge of this distribution of relief

funds. Accustomed to the trials, responsibilities, and hardships of

field relief labor, this proposition seemed something to be shrunk

from rather than accepted and we naturally hesitated. The idea,

however, became public, and a general importunity on the part of

the people became prevalent. The necessity for immediate action was

urged; human beings were starving and could not be reached, hundreds

of towns and villages had not been heard from since the fire and

sword went over them, and no one else was so well prepared for the

work of field relief, it was said, as ourselves. It was urged that we

had a trained force of field workers, and as Turkey was one of the

signatory powers to the Red Cross Treaty of Geneva, having given its

adhesion as long ago as July, 1865, it must consequently be familiar

with its methods and humanitarian ideas. Thus it was hoped that she

would the more readily accept its presence than that of a more strange

body of workers. These are only a shadowing of the reasons urged on

behalf of our acceptance. Under this pressure, coupled with our strong

sympathies, the subject was taken into serious consideration with the

simple demand on our part of two positive assurances: first, we must

be assured by the committees that we were the choice of the people of

the entire country, that there was no opposition to us, and that there

was perfect unanimity between themselves; there must be nowhere any

discord; the task would be difficult enough under the best conditions.

Second, that they had the funds to distribute. Assured on both these

points, our promise was given that we would go and do our best to make

the desired distribution in the interior of Asia Minor.

With this ray of hope that something might be done, the pent-up

sympathies of the people burst forth. Public meetings were held,

addresses made, Armenian conditions estimated, horrors reproduced,

responsibilities placed, causes canvassed, and opinions expressed;

honest, humane, and entirely natural, precisely the course to rouse

public sentiment and indignation, if that were the only or the main

object in view. In consideration, however, of the relief effort, it

was of questionable wisdom, perhaps, when it is borne in mind that

we had yet to ask the opening of a door hitherto closed against the

world, when we needed permission to enter, in order to reach the

starving sufferers with the relief that was planning for them. In

the enthusiasm of the hour, this fact seemed to be entirely lost

sight of. It also seemed to be forgotten that if this difficult and

delicate task were to be assigned to the Red Cross and its officers,

the making of their mission, or of themselves personally, prominent

or laudatory features of public gatherings where Ottoman officials or

representatives were always listeners, could not fail to render the

post more difficult and prospects of success more doubtful.

The international and neutral character of the Red Cross, as a medium

of relief in mitigation of war or overwhelming calamity, appeared to

be overlooked or wholly misunderstood. It was not recognized that

only by abstaining from discordant opinions could we be in a position

to perform our work. By the obligations of the Geneva Treaty, all

national controversies, racial distinctions, and differences in creed

must be held in abeyance and only the needs of humanity considered.

In this spirit alone can the Red Cross meet its obligations as the

representative of the nations and governments of the world acting

under it. But American enthusiasm is boundless, and its expression

limitless; and the same breath that crushed the Ottoman Empire,

scattered it to the winds or sunk it in the lowest depths, elevated

the Red Cross and its proposed relief out of sight among the clouds.

Precautionary remonstrance from us was in vain, but it was not until

after we had publicly given our consent, made all arrangements and

appointed our aids, that the fruits of these ardent demonstrations

became visible in a pronunciamento through the Turkish Minister

resident at Washington, prohibiting the Red Cross from entering Turkey.

I found this decision on the part of the Bey and his Government

very natural and politically justifiable--our own Government and

people would probably have done the same or even more under similar

conditions, provided similar conditions could have existed among them.

I was ready to abide by the decision and remain at home. This, neither

people nor committees would consent to. Of course our selected force

of more than a score of trained and experienced field workers, each

a specialist, must be given up. If any relief were now attempted it

could only be individual, with two or three officers from headquarters

as indispensable aids.

Previous to the announcement of the Turkish Minister prohibiting the

Red Cross from entering Turkey, the promise had been gained from

us to leave by the steamship _New York_ on the 22d of January, and

notwithstanding the reply to a cablegram from the Department of State

to Constantinople, asking if the prohibition against the entrance of

the Red Cross was really official and from the Government itself, or

but semi-official, had not been received, our promise was kept and we

sailed with this uncertainty resting over us.

The picture of that scene is still vivid in my memory. Crowded piers,

wild with hurrahs, white with parting salutes, hearts beating with

exultation and expectation--a little shorn band of five, prohibited,

unsustained either by Government or other authority, destined to a

port five thousand miles away, from approach to which even the powers

of the world had shrunk. What was it expected to do or how to do it?

Visions of Don Quixote and his windmills loomed up, as I turned away

and wondered.

A week at sea, to be met at midnight at Southampton, by messenger

down from London, to say that the prohibition was sustained, the

Red Cross was forbidden, but that such persons as our minister, Mr.

Terrell, would appoint, would be received. Here was another delicate

uncertainty which could not be committed to Ottoman telegraph, and

Dr. Hubbell was dispatched alone to Constantinople (while we waited

in London) to learn from Mr. Terrell his attitude toward ourselves

and our mission. Under favorable responses we proceeded, and reached

Constantinople on February 15; met a most cordial reception from all

our own Government officials, and located _pro tem._ at Pera Palace

Hotel; it being so recently after the Stamboul massacres that no less

public place was deemed safe.

The following day we received in a body the members of the Missionary

Board in Constantinople, including its treasurer, W. W. Peet, and

Dr. Washburn, president of Robert College, and here commenced

that friendly intercourse which continued without interruption,

strengthening as the days wore on through the half-year that followed,

till moistened eyes and warm hand-grasp at parting told more plainly

than words how fraught with confidence that intercourse had been. If

one would look for peers of this accomplished Christian body of our

countrymen, they would only be found in the noble band of women, who,

as wives, mothers, and teachers, aid their labors and share their

hardships, privations, and dangers. I shall always feel it a privilege

and an honor to have been called, even in a small way, to assist

the efforts of this chosen body of our countrymen and women, whose

faithful and devoted lives are made sacred to the service of God and

their fellow men.

The first step was to procure an introduction to the Government which

had in one sense refused me; and accompanied by Minister Terrell and

his premier interpreter, Gargiulo, perhaps the longest serving and

one of the most experienced diplomatic officers in Constantinople,

I called by appointment upon Tewfik Pasha, the Turkish Minister of

Foreign Affairs or Minister of State. To those conversant with the

personages connected with Turkish affairs, I need not say that Tewfik

Pasha is probably the foremost man of the Government; a manly man,

with a kind, fine face, and genial, polished manners. Educated abroad,

with advanced views on general subjects, he impresses one as a man who

would sanction no wrong it was in his power to avert.

We were received at the Department of State in an uninterrupted

interview lasting over an hour. As this was the main interview and the

base of all our work, it is perhaps proper that I give it somewhat

in detail. Mr. Terrell’s introduction was most appropriate and well

expressed, bearing with strong emphasis upon the suffering condition

of the people of the interior in consequence of the massacres, and

the great sympathy of the people of America, their intense desire to

help them, the heartfelt interest in their missionaries whose burdens

were greater than they ought to bear, and the desire to aid them, and

that for all these reasons we had been asked to come; that our objects

were purely humanitarian, having neither political, racial, nor

religious bearing as such; that as the head of the organization thus

represented I _could_ have no other ideas, and it was the privilege

of putting these ideas into practice and the protection required

meanwhile that the people of America, through him and through me, were

asking.

The Pasha listened most attentively to the speech of Mr. Terrell,

thanked him, and replied that this was well understood; that they knew

the Red Cross and its president, and, turning to me, repeated: “We

know you, Miss Barton; have long known you and your work. We would

like to hear your plans for relief and what you desire.”

I proceeded to state them, bearing fully upon the fact that the

condition to which the people of the interior of Asia Minor had been

reduced by recent events had aroused the sympathy of the entire

American people until they asked, almost to the extent of a demand,

that assistance from them should be allowed to go directly to these

sufferers, hundreds of whom had friends and relatives in America--a

fact which naturally strengthened both the interest and the demand;

that it was at the request of our people, _en masse_, that I and a

few assistants had come; that our object would be to use the funds

ourselves among the people needing them wherever they were found, in

helping them to resume their former positions and vocations, thus

relieving them from continued distress, the State from the burden of

providing for them, and other nations and people from a torrent of

sympathy which was both hard to endure and unwholesome in its effects;

that I had brought skilled agents, practical and experienced farmers

whose first efforts would be to get the people back to their deserted

fields and provide them with farming implements and material wherewith

to put in summer crops and thus enable them to feed themselves. These

would embrace ploughs, hoes, spades, seed-corn, wheat, and, later,

sickles, scythes, etc., for harvesting, with which to save the miles

of autumn grain which we had heard of as growing on the great plains

already in the ground before the trouble; also to provide for them

such cattle and other animals as it would be possible to purchase or

to get back; that if some such thing were not done before another

winter, unless we had been greatly misinformed, the suffering there

would shock the entire civilized world. None of us knew from personal

observations, as yet, the full need of assistance, but had reason to

believe it very great. That if my agents were permitted to go, such

need as they found they would be prompt to relieve. On the other hand,

if they did not find the need existing there, none would leave the

field so gladly as they. There would be no respecting of persons;

humanity alone would be their guide. “We have,” I added, “brought

only ourselves, no correspondent has accompanied us, and we shall

have none, and shall not go home to write a book on Turkey. We are

not here for that. Nothing shall be done in any concealed manner. All

dispatches which we send will go openly through your own telegraph,

and I should be glad if all that we shall write could be seen by your

Government. I cannot, of course, say what its character will be, but

can vouch for its truth, fairness, and integrity, and for the conduct

of every leading man who shall be sent. I shall never counsel nor

permit a sly or underhand action with your Government, and you will

pardon me, Pasha, if I say that I shall expect the same treatment in

return--such as I give I shall expect to receive.”

Almost without a breath he replied--“And you shall have it. We

honor your position and your wishes will be respected. Such aid and

protection as we are able to, we shall render.”

I then asked if it were necessary for me to see other officials. “No,”

he replied, “I speak for my Government.” And with cordial good wishes,

our interview closed.

I never spoke personally with this gentleman again; all further

business being officially transacted through the officers of our

Legation. Yet I can truly say, as I have said of my first meeting

with our matchless band of missionary workers, that here commenced an

acquaintance which proved invaluable, and here were given pledges of

mutual faith of which not a word was ever broken or invalidated on

either side, and to which I owe what we were able to do through all

Asia Minor. It is to the strong escorts ordered from the Sublime Porte

for our expeditions and men that I owe the fact that they all came

back to me, and that I bring them home to you, tired and worn, but

saved and useful still.

Dr. Hubbell and the leaders of the five expeditions tell us that

they were never, even for a portion of a day, without an escort

for protection, and this at the expense of the Turkish Government,

and that without this protection they must not and could not have

proceeded.

At length the task was accomplished. One by one the expeditions closed

and withdrew, returning by Sivas and Samsoun and coming out by the

Black Sea. By that time it is probable that no one questioned the

propriety of their route or longer wondered at their method of work.

The perplexed frowns of our anxious committees and sympathetic people

had long given way to smiles of confidence and approval, and glad

hands would have reached far over the waters to meet ours as warmly

extended to them.

With the return of the expeditions we closed the field, but before

leaving Constantinople, funds from both the New York and Boston

committees came to us amounting to some fifteen thousand dollars.

This was happily placed with Mr. Peet, treasurer of the Board of

Foreign Missions at Stamboul, for the building of little houses in

the interior as a winter shelter and protection where all had been

destroyed.

The appearance of our men on their arrival at Constantinople confirmed

the impression that they had not been recalled too soon. They had gone

out through the snows and ice of winter and without change or rest

had come back through the scorching suns of midsummer--five months

of rough, uncivilized life, faring and sharing with their beasts of

burden, well-nigh out of communication with the civilized world, but

never out of danger, it seemed but just to themselves and to others

who might yet need them that change and rest be given them.

Since our entrance upon Turkish soil no general disturbance had taken

place. One heard only the low rumbling of the thunder after the

storm, the clouds were drifting southward and settling over Crete and

Macedonia, and we felt that we might take at least some steps toward

home. It was only when this movement commenced that we began truly to

realize how deep the roots of friendship, comradeship, confidence, and

love had struck back among our newly found friends and countrymen;

how much a part of ourselves--educational, humanitarian, and

official--their work and interest had become, and surely from them we

learned anew the lesson of reciprocity.

Some days of physical rest were needful for the men of the expeditions

after reaching Constantinople before commencing another journey of

thousands of miles, worn as they were by exposure, hardship, and

incessant labor, both physical and mental. This interval of time was,

however, mainly employed by them in the preparation of the reports

submitted with this, and in attention to the letters which followed

them from their various fields, telling of further need, but more

largely overflowing with gratitude and blessing for what had been done.

For our financial secretary and myself there could be neither rest nor

respite while we remained at a disbursing post so well known as ours.

Indeed there never had been. From the time of our arrival in February

to our embarkation in August there were but two days not strictly

devoted to business, the 4th of July and the 5th of August--the last a

farewell to our friends. For both of these occasions we were indebted

to the hospitality of treasurer and Mrs. W. W. Peet, and although

held in the open air, on the crowning point of Proti, one of the

Princes’ Islands, with the Marmora, Bosporus, and Golden Horn in full

view, the spires and minarets of Constantinople and Scutari telling

us of a land we knew little of, with peoples and customs strange and

incomprehensible to us, still there was no lack of the emblem that

makes every American at home, and its wavy folds of red, white, and

blue shaded the tables and flecked the tasteful viands around which

sat the renowned leaders of the American missionary element of Asia

Minor.

Henry O. Dwight, D.D., the accomplished gentleman and diplomatic head,

who was the first to suggest an appeal to the Red Cross, and I am

glad to feel he has never repented him of his decision. One fact in

regard to Dr. Dwight may be of interest to some hundreds of thousands

of our people. On first meeting him I was not quite sure of the title

by which to address him, if reverend or doctor, and took the courage

to ask him. He turned a glance full of amused meaning upon me as he

replied: “That is of little consequence; the title I prize most is

_Captain_ Dwight.” “Of what?” I asked. “Company D, Twentieth Ohio

Volunteers, in our late war.” The recognition which followed can

well be imagined by the comrades for whose interest I have named the

incident.

The Reverend Joseph K. Greene, D.D., and his amiable wife, to whom

so much is due toward the well-being of the missionary work of

Constantinople. I regret that I am not able to reproduce the eloquent

and patriotic remarks of Dr. Greene on both these occasions, so true

to our country, our government, and our laws. The Reverend George P.

Knapp, formerly of Bitlis, whose courage no one questions. Mrs. Lee

of Marash, and Mrs. Dr. George Washburn of Robert College, the worthy

and efficient daughters of the Reverend Doctor Cyrus Hamlin, the

veteran missionary and founder of Robert College, living in Lexington,

Massachusetts. A half-score of teachers, whose grand lives will one

day grace the pages of religious history. And last, though by no means

least, our host, the man of few words and much work, who bears the

burden of monetary relief for the woes and wants of Asia Minor, W. W.

Peet.

It was a great satisfaction that most of our field agents were able

to be present at the last of these beautiful occasions and personally

render an account of their stewardship to those who had watched

their course with such interest. The pleasure of these two days of

recreation will ever remain a golden light in our memories.

As the first official act of the relief work after our arrival in

Constantinople was my formal presentation to the Sublime Porte by the

American Minister, the Honorable A. W. Terrell, diplomatic courtesy

demanded that I take proper occasion to notify the Turkish Government

of our departure and return thanks for its assistance, which was done

formally at “Selamlik,” a religious ceremony held on the Turkish

Sabbath, which corresponds to our Friday. The Court Chamberlain

delivered my message to the palace. It was received and responded to

through the same medium and I took my departure, having finished my

diplomatic work with that Government which had from first to last

treated me with respect, assisted my work, and protected my workers.

To correct certain impressions and expressions which have been

circulating more or less extensively in this country, and for

the correct information of the people who through their loyal

interest deserve to know the facts, I make known my entire social

relations while residing in Turkey. Personally I did not go beyond

Constantinople. The proper conduct of our work demanded the continuous

presence of both our financial secretary and myself at headquarters.

I never saw, to communicate with personally, any member of the Turkish

Government excepting its Minister of Foreign Affairs, Tewfik Pasha, as

named previously. I never spoke with the Sultan and have never seen

him excepting in his carriage on the way to his mosque.

On being informed through our Legation that the Turkish Minister at

Washington, Mavroyeni Bey, had been recalled and that his successor

was about to leave for his new position, I felt that national

courtesy required that I call upon him and, attended by a member

of our Legation, my secretary and myself crossed the Bosporusto,

a magnificent estate on the Asiatic shore, the palatial home of

Moustapha Tahsin Bey, a gentleman of culture, who had resided in New

York in some legal capacity, and who, I feel certain, will be socially

and officially acceptable to our Government.

I have received a decoration, officially described as follows:

Brevet of Chevalier of the Royal Order of Melusine, founded in

1186, by Sibylle, Queen and spouse of King Guy of Jerusalem, and

reinstituted several years since by Marie, Princess of Lusignan. The

Order is conferred for humanitarian, scientific and other services

of distinction, but especially when such services are rendered to

the House of Lusignan, and particularly to the Armenian nation. The

Order is worn by a number of reigning sovereigns, and is highly prized

by the recipients because of its rare bestowal and its beauty. This

decoration is bestowed by His Royal Highness, Guy of Lusignan, Prince

of Jerusalem, Cyprus and Armenia.

Some months after returning home I received through our State

Department at Washington the Sultan’s decoration of Shefaket and its

accompanying diploma in Turkish, a translation of which is here given:

As Miss Barton, American citizen, possesses many great and

distinguished qualities and as recompense is due to her, I am pleased

therefore to accord to her the second class of my decorations of

Shefaket.

Such were the honors which Miss Barton received from the Turkish

Government. Her American friends in Constantinople were no less

enthusiastic. Among the foremost of American missionaries in Turkey and

those longest resident in Constantinople, the Reverend Doctors Dwight

and Greene deserve to be quoted as expressing the judgment of the

Americans as a body:

From the Reverend Doctor H. O. Dwight, one word among the many so

generously spoken:

Miss Barton has done a splendid work, sensibly and economically

managed. Wherever her agents have been, the missionaries have

expressed the strongest approval of their methods and efficiency. The

work done has been of great and permanent importance.

From the Reverend Joseph K. Greene, D.D., to the New York “Independent”:

After some six months of service, Miss Clara Barton and her five able

assistants have left Constantinople on their return to America. It was

only on the earnest solicitation of the missionaries, the officers of

the American Board, and many other friends of the suffering Armenians

that Miss Barton undertook the relief in this land. The difficulties

of the work, arising from the suspicions of the Turkish authorities,

the distance from the capital to the sufferers, the perils and

discomforts in communicating with them, and from unfamiliarity with

the languages and customs of the people of the land, would surely

have appalled a less courageous heart. Under such circumstances it is

only just and fair that the American public should be apprised of the

substantial success of this mission of the Red Cross.

In the first place, Miss Barton has shown a rare faculty in getting on

well with everybody. To facilitate her work she, and the assistants

whom she loves to call “my men,” laid aside all the insignia of the

Red Cross and appeared everywhere simply as private individuals.

She clearly understood that she could accomplish her mission only

by securing the confidence and good-will of the authorities, and

this she did by her patience and repeated explanations, and by the

assistance of the American Legation. When the _iradé_, or imperial

decree sanctioning her mission, was delayed, she sent forward her

assistants with only a traveling permit for a part of the way,

trusting, and not in vain, that the local authorities, instructed from

headquarters, would facilitate their way. As a matter of fact, while

Mr. Pullman, her secretary and treasurer, remained at Constantinople

with Miss Barton, her distributing agents, namely, Dr. Hubbell and Mr.

Mason, Mr. Wistar and Mr. Wood, either together or in two parties,

traveled inland from Alexandretta to Killis, Aintab, Marash, Zeitoun,

Birejik, Oorfa, Diarbekir, Farkin, Harpoot, Palou, Malatia, Arabkir,

Egin, Sivas, Tokat, Samsoun, and back to Constantinople without

interruption or molestation. They were readily and constantly supplied

with guards, and could not with safety have made their perilous four

months’ journey without them. Demands are said to have been made that

the distribution of aid be made under the supervision of Government

officials, but, in fact, Miss Barton’s agents knew how to make

their distributions in every place, after careful consultation and

examination, without any interference on the part of the authorities.

Miss Barton received in all about $116,000, and an unexpended balance

of $15,400 was committed to Mr. Peet, the treasurer of the American

Missions in Turkey, to be held as an emergency fund, subject to Miss

Barton’s orders. No expense has been incurred for Miss Barton or her

agents save for traveling expenses and the wages of interpreters,

and with this exception the entire sum expended has gone to the

actual relief of the sufferers. While the fund committed to the

Anglo-American Committee, of which Mr. Peet is a member--a sum four

to five times the amount committed to Miss Barton--has been expended

through the missionaries, largely to save the hungry from starvation,

the relief through the agents of the Red Cross has for the most part

been wisely devoted to the putting of the poor sufferers on their feet

again, and thus helping them to help themselves. Some five hundred

liras (a lira is $4.40 of _good_ money) were given for the cure and

care of the sick in Marash, Zeitoun, and elsewhere, and some two

thousand liras’ worth of cloths, thread, pins and needles were sent

inland; but many times this amount was expended in providing material

for poor widows; seeds, agricultural implements and oxen for farmers;

tools for blacksmiths and carpenters; and looms for weavers. In some

places Miss Barton’s agents had the pleasure of seeing vegetable

gardens coming forward from seed furnished by the Red Cross, and

village farmers reaping the grain with sickles which the Red Cross had

given. The great want now--a want which the funds of the Red Cross

agents did not permit them to any large extent to meet--is aid to the

poor villagers to help them rebuild their burned and ruined houses,

and thus provide for themselves shelter against the rigors of the

coming winter. The Red Cross agents have, however, gathered a great

stock of information; and passing by the horrors of the massacres

and the awful abuse of girls and women, as unimpeachable witnesses

they can bear testimony to the frightful sufferings and needs of the

people. We most sincerely hope and pray that Miss Barton and the

agents and friends of the Red Cross will not esteem their work in

Turkey done, but knowing now so well just what remains to be done,

and what can be done, will bend every effort to secure further relief

for the widows and orphans of the more than sixty thousand murdered

men--mostly between the ages of eighteen and fifty--whose lives no

earthly arm was outstretched to save.

While we gratefully bear witness to the wise and indefatigable efforts

of Miss Barton’s _agents_, permit us to add that during her more

than six months’ stay in Constantinople Miss Barton gave _herself_

unremittingly to the work of her mission. She seems to have had no

time for sight-seeing, and not a few of her friends are disposed to

complain that she had no time to accept the invitations of those

who would have been glad to entertain her. The only relaxation she

seems to have given herself was on two occasions--the first, a

Fourth of July picnic with a few American friends, on one of the

Princes’ Islands, and the second, another picnic on the same island,

on Wednesday, August 5, when, with three of her “men,” she met some

twenty American lady teachers and missionaries, in order to bid them a

courteous farewell. The first occasion she unqualifiedly declared to

have been the happiest Fourth of July she had ever had; and inspired

by the occasion, she penned some verses which she kindly read to

her friends on the second gathering, and which we very much wish

she would permit the editor of the “Independent” to publish. On the

second occasion, at Miss Barton’s request, the financial secretary

read his report and Dr. Hubbell and Mr. Wood presented reports of the

work of distribution. We gratefully acknowledged the honor done us

in permitting us to hear these reports; and, remembering our

concern for Miss Barton while preparing for the work of distribution

six months ago, we gladly expressed our joy and congratulations now on

the happy return of her faithful and efficient agents, of whom it may

be truly said that they went and saw and conquered. We rejoiced that

these new friends had come to know so well the American missionaries

in Turkey, and were truly thankful for a mutually happy acquaintance.

We wished Miss Barton and her “men” a hearty welcome on their arrival,

and, now, with all our hearts, we wish them God-speed on their return

home.

Miss Barton was already much bedecorated before the formation of

the American Red Cross, but she brought back from Turkey additional

official decorations presented to her by the Turkish Government and by

prominent organizations represented by the Armenians.

[Illustration: DECORATIONS OF CLARA BARTON

1. “Gold Masonic Emblem,” given her by her father and worn by Miss

Clara Barton through the Civil War, 1861-1865.

2. “The German official Red Cross Field Badge,” presented by the Grand

Duchess of Baden, and worn by Miss Barton through the Franco-Prussian

War, 1870-1871.

3. “The Iron Cross of Germany,” conferred by Emperor William I and

Empress Augusta, 1871, in recognition of Miss Barton’s services for

humanity in the Franco-Prussian War.

4. “The Gold Cross of Remembrance,” conferred by the Grand Duke and

Grand Duchess of Baden, 1871.

5. “Royal Jewel” (gold-knot brooch), presented by the Grand Duchess

of Baden, 1897. When presenting this brooch to Miss Barton the Grand

Duchess said, “An unbroken friendship of twenty-six years deserves to

be tied by a knot of gold.”

6. The official medal of the “International Red Cross,” presented to

Miss Barton when through her efforts the Congress of the United States

adopted the treaty of Geneva in 1882. Presented by the International

Committee of Geneva.

7. Serbian decoration (silver, red enamel, and silver center),

conferred by Queen Nathalie of Serbia, 1883, for services for humanity.

8. Gold badge of the “Waffengenosen” German soldiers in America who

took part in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-1871, presented to their

Honorary Member Miss Barton in 1885.

9. Silver Medal conferred by Augusta, Empress of Germany, 1885.

10. “Grand Army and Woman’s Relief Corps” (gold with diamonds),

presented to Miss Barton, the sole Honorary Member of the Relief

Corps, 1886.

11. Royal Jewel (brooch, smoky topaz surrounded with pearls),

presented by the Grand Duchess of Baden, 1887.

12. Royal Jewel (red topaz and gold brooch), presented by the Empress

Augusta of Germany, 1887.

13. Silver medal of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanics

Association, presented in 1887.

14. Gold brooch with diamonds and sapphire setting, presented by the

ladies of Johnstown, Pa., at the close of the relief work of the

Johnstown flood, 1889.

15. Gold badge of the “Sorosis,” New York, presented to Miss Barton,

their Honorary Member, 1890.

16. Gold badge of “The Clara Barton Lodge of the Sisters of the G. A.

R. of Gloucester, Mass.,” presented to Miss Barton, their Honorary

Member, 1890.

17. Badge of the Loyal Legion of Women of Washington, D.C., presented

to their Honorary Member Miss Barton, 1893.

20. Gold Medal of the Vanderbilt Benevolent Association of South

Carolina, presented to Miss Barton, their Honorary Member, 1894.

21. Red Cross Insignia (silver and red enamel with diamond star), in

commemoration of the American Relief Field, 1896, presented by Miss

Barton’s Assistants on the field in memory of the Relief Field of

Armenia.

22. Armenian Decoration (silver, blue enamel, and gold), bestowed by

His Royal Highness Guy de Lusignan, Prince of Jerusalem, Cyprus, and

Armenia, 1896, in recognition of services in relief of the Armenian

massacres.

23. The gold badge of the War Veterans and Sons Association of

Brooklyn, New York, presented to their Honorary Member Clara Barton,

April, 1899.

24. Turkish Decoration (gold, diamonds, and other jewels), conferred

by the Sultan Abdul Hamid in 1897 through the State Department, with

the request that if America desired to send further relief to his

domains, she should send back the missionaries of humanity she sent

before.

25. Spanish Decoration of Honor (gold and green enamel), conferred in

1898 by the Spanish Government.

26. Belgian Decoration (silver and red enamel), conferred in 1892 by

the Red Cross of Belgium.

27. Russian Decoration (silver and red enamel), conferred by the Czar

Nicholas in 1902. Russian famine.]

The foregoing outline briefly summarizes the work of Miss Barton and of

the American Red Cross in the years following its official recognition

and preceding the Spanish-American War. It was a glorious record; it

gave to the Red Cross a definition in the mind of America, and a place

in the admiration of the world, such as no philanthropic organization

ever had attained. It brought to Clara Barton honors which she accepted

with modesty and quietly laid away while she devoted herself to

preparation for the next field of service.

The work of the Red Cross was now a labor that occupied the whole

twelve months. Her salaried force was small; the expense of

administration was kept low. She maintained a skeleton organization

with a stock of supplies such as did not deteriorate by storage and

was certain to be needed when the first news of disaster arrived. She

did not employ a large force of idle helpers. She depended upon the

emergency bringing its own troop of assistants who worked under her

direction and the direction of those whom she had trained.

Clara Barton knew what not all philanthropists know that it is as

important for a philanthropic organization to get out when its work

is done as it is for it to go in when its work is needed. In almost

every field she met with requests for the continuance of the work after

she knew that the time had come for the people to rely upon their own

resources. She was determined that the Red Cross should never become a

pauperizing institution or furnish employment for an army of official

idlers.