The assassination of President Garfield in the summer of 1881 deterred
the process of ratification by several months. She also was concerned
about the many rival organizations that were mushrooming around her. The
“Red Star,” “Red Crescent,” and “White Cross” all appeared. One group,
the “Blue Anchor,” posed a threat to the treaty ratification, for
several senators’ wives belonged to it and were openly hostile to her.
The rival charities irritated her, and she let herself indulge in
self-pity and undue alarm. “There is in all the world, not one person
who will come and work beside me to establish the justice of a good
cause,” she wrote. “It is only natural that I should long to be out of
the human surroundings which care so little for me.”
Barton need not have worried so much. The new President, Chester A.
Arthur, was an advocate of the Red Cross, and when she called upon the
Secretary of State early in 1882 he showed her the treaty, already
printed, awaiting only the recommendations of the Senate and official
signatures. As she read it, Barton began to weep, for, as a cousin
remarked, “her life and hope were bound up in it.” On March 16, 1882,
she received a note from Senator Elbridge Lapham informing her of “the
ratification by the Senate of the Geneva Convention; of the full assent
of the United States to the same.” “_Laus Deo_,” concluded the note, but
to Barton it was almost anticlimactic. “I had waited so long,” she wrote
in her journal, “and was so weak and broken, I could not even feel
glad.”
Clara Barton’s success in securing ratification of the Treaty of Geneva
is perhaps her most outstanding achievement. Primarily through her
writing, speeches, and dedication the public and U.S. officials came to
know of the Red Cross. For six years she persisted in lobbying Congress;
the treaty ultimately passed without a dissenting vote. And, although
she “could not believe that someone would not rise up” to help her, no
one ever did. The American National Red Cross remains a monument to
Barton’s singular perseverance and her powers of persuasion.
Barton and the Red Cross in Action
Clara Barton was 60 years old when the Treaty of Geneva was ratified by
the Senate. She at first considered her work completed. But the
immediate demands made on the young American Red Cross changed her mind;
she felt it would be foolish to put the Red Cross into other hands.
Barton stamped the early Red Cross decisively with her personality. She
was a woman of strong will and deliberate action, with, as biographer
Percy Epler states, “a just and accurate estimate of her own power to
master a situation.” By the 1880s, she was accustomed to being in
command. She could, and did, inspire great loyalty—Antoinette Margot’s
letters to her customarily begin “My own so precious, so precious Miss
Barton,” or “So dear, so preciously loved Miss Barton”—though some
complained that she demanded, rather than deserved the fealty. Barton
left no doubt that she alone governed the Red Cross and that all others
were subordinate. One of her most loyal aides referred to her as “the
Queen.”
[Illustration: _When many people are closing out their careers,
Clara Barton was just beginning her most important work._]
She had a sharp intellect, was able to see issues clearly, and was
articulate. Although she had clear-cut opinions on nearly every subject,
she was loath to force her ideas on others. Dr. Hubbell, writing after
her death, maintained that she disliked controversy and would almost
never argue, “but when she did speak she could tell more facts to the
point ... with no possibility of misunderstanding than any person I have
ever known.”
She was confident when she was in control of a situation, but she had
difficulty working with others. She was a perfectionist. Determined
always to do things in her own way, she early decided “that I must
attend to all business myself ... and learn to do _all_ myself.”
Secretaries and servants came and went, but few ever satisfied her
exacting demands. In her own endeavors she could tolerate no rival, but
she did not aspire to widespread power.
Privately Barton was often very different from her public image.
Criticism was taken with apparent calm and stoicism, but inwardly she
burned and fought the temptation “to go from all the world. I think it
will come to that someday,” she sadly noted, “it is a struggle for me to
keep in society at all. I want to leave all.” Her temper was also
controlled and betrayed itself only by a deepening of her voice and a
sharpness in her eyes. She was socially insecure and given to
self-dramatization. She often exaggerated her hardships to elicit pity
or respect. For example, she frequently spoke of sitting up all night on
trains as both a measure of economy and a guard against unnecessary
personal luxury, yet her diaries contain numerous references to
comfortable berths. Several times she wrote flattering articles about
herself, in the third person, which she submitted to various
periodicals. In one, written during the Franco-Prussian War, she showed
the way she hoped the public would view her: “Miss Clara Barton,
scarcely recovered from the fatigues and indispositions resulting from
her arduous and useful duties during the War of the Rebellion, was found
again foremost bestowing her care upon the wounded with the same
assiduity which characterized her among the suffering armies of her own
country.”
Her depression and insecurity were, in most cases, undetectable to
others. What they noticed were her humanitarian feelings and deep and
abiding empathy for those who suffered. Her friend, the Grand Duchess
Louise, thought of her as “one of those very few persons whose whole
being is goodness itself.” Biographer and cousin William E. Barton
recalled that she “did not merely sympathize with suffering; she
suffered.” Others were struck by her witty and spontaneous sense of
humor. She told one friend that she was more thankful for her sense of
humor than for any other quality she possessed, for it had helped her
over hard times.
Another of Barton’s assets was a keen spirit of objectivity. William
Barton noted that she rarely stood on precedent and that she tried to
keep an open mind about people, methods of business, and herself. This
openness is perceptible in her acceptance of startling changes. Railway
travel, typewriters, automobiles, and airplanes were all taken in
stride, and when telephones and electric lights became available she had
them installed in her home immediately. She welcomed dress reform,
prison reform, and other social change. Clara Barton was a determined,
sensitive, competent, difficult, and unpredictable woman, and she
brought all of these qualities to, and etched them on, the American Red
Cross in 1882.
During the years that she was president of the American Red Cross, it
was a small but well-known group. Her name lent power and respectability
to the Red Cross cause. The list of relief efforts undertaken in those
early years is impressive—assistance at the sites of numerous natural
disasters, foreign aid to both Russia and Turkey, battlefield relief in
the Spanish-American War. She participated in nearly all of the field
work, which was her métier, for it combined her humanitarian sentiments
with her need to lose herself in her work and the remuneration of
praise.
The first work undertaken by the Red Cross in America was actually done
prior to the ratification of the Treaty of Geneva. In the fall of 1881,
disastrous forest fires swept across Michigan. Local Red Cross chapters
at Dansville and Rochester, New York, sent money and materials amounting
to $80,000, and Barton directed Julian Hubbell to oversee the work. Thus
did Hubbell, still a medical student at the University of Michigan,
begin his career as chief field agent for the American Red Cross.
[Illustration: _In early September 1881, Michigan farmers in “the
Thumb” of the State were burning stubble left after the harvest.
Aggravated by drought conditions, the fires spread to the dry
forests. One estimate at the time stated that an area 100 by 30
kilometers (60 by 20 miles) was burned._]
From 1881 on, nearly every year saw the Red Cross actively engaged in
the relief of some calamity. In 1882, and again in 1884, the Mississippi
and Ohio Rivers flooded, sweeping away valuable property, leaving
hundreds destitute and homeless. Relief centers were established in
Cincinnati and Evansville, Indiana, and the Red Cross steamers, the
_Josh V. Throop_ and _Mattie Belle_, cooperated with government relief
boats to supply sufferers cut off by water. All along the rivers,
families were furnished with fuel, clothing and food, or cash. The Red
Cross also undertook to relieve starving and sick animals by
contributing oats, hay, corn, and medicine. Lumber, tools, and seeds
were left to help the stricken rebuild their lives. Barton herself
supervised the work on the _Mattie Belle_ as it plowed its way between
the cities of St. Louis and New Orleans.
The American Red Cross did not attempt to supply every need in every
instance, nor did it try to aid the victims of every calamity. A notable
case in which the Red Cross declined to give aid occurred in 1887. A
severe drought had plagued the people of northwestern Texas for several
years; State and Federal aid had been denied and in desperation a
representative of the stricken area applied to Barton for relief. She
went directly to the scene, but she determined that what was needed was
not Red Cross aid but an organized drive for public contributions.
Through the _Dallas News_ she advertised for help and was delighted to
find a quick response.
Besides flood and fire relief, the young American Red Cross helped
tornado victims in Louisiana and Alabama in 1883 and contributed in the
relief of an earthquake at Charleston, South Carolina, in 1886. When a
tornado struck Mount Vernon, Illinois, in February 1888, Barton and her
co-workers organized the inhabitants so effectively that they needed to
stay at the scene only two weeks.
An outbreak of yellow fever in Jacksonville, Florida, also in 1888,
precipitated the first use of trained Red Cross nurses, many of whom
worked heroically. In one instance, ten of them jumped from a moving
train to enter the small town of Macclenny, Florida, whose rail service
had been stopped because of the fever’s epidemic proportions. But
unfortunately the Jacksonville episode was not an entirely happy one.
Barton had a lifelong inability to pick qualified subordinates; in this
case the man she chose to supervise the nurses—a Colonel Southmayd of
the New Orleans Red Cross—had extremely poor judgment. Southmayd found
the Jacksonville workers to be “earnest and warm-hearted,” but all
evidence is to the contrary. Some nurses refused to work for three
dollars a day when they could get four dollars in private hospitals. One
got drunk on the whiskey used as medicine, another was arrested for
theft, and several were accused of immoral conduct. Southmayd staunchly
refused to remove the offending nurses, and for a time the incident put
an unfortunate stigma on Red Cross workers. It also served to strengthen
Clara Barton’s determination to oversee personally as much Red Cross
field work as possible.
The most celebrated peacetime relief work undertaken by the young
American Red Cross was at Johnstown, Pennsylvania, in 1889. Johnstown,
at the point where Stony Creek joins the Conemaugh River, often endured
spring floods, but in May 1889 the rains were unusually heavy. After
several days low-lying parts of Johnstown lay under 1 to 4 meters (3 to
13 feet) of water. Then a dam broke in the mountains 16 kilometers (10
miles) from the city. A wall of water, 9 meters (30 feet) high, rushed
down to kill 2,200 people and destroy millions of dollars in property.
Barton arrived in Johnstown five days after the tragedy on the first
train that got through. She immediately began work, using a tent as
living and office space, and a dry goods box as a desk. From that desk
she administered a program that amounted to half a million dollars,
conducted a publicity campaign, and joined forces with the other
charitable societies working in Johnstown. One of her aides recalled the
long hours and complex work that characterized their five months in
Johnstown and noted that through it all she remained “calm, benign,
tireless and devoted.”
Barton’s first concern was a warehouse for Red Cross supplies and under
her direction workmen erected one in four days. She then turned to
alleviating the acute housing shortage. Hotels, two stories high and
containing more than 30 rooms each, were built and fully furnished to
serve as temporary shelters. Crews of men were organized to clean up the
wreckage, while women volunteered to oversee the distribution of
clothing and other necessities. As in all its work, the Red Cross tried
to supply jobs and a spirit of self-help along with material assistance.
[Illustration: _Floodwaters roamed through Johnstown, Pennsylvania,
in 1889, destroying a great number of homes and businesses. More
than 2,200 persons lost their lives._]
Clara Barton’s organization was only one of many that came to the aid of
Johnstown, but its contribution was outstanding for its quick thinking
and tireless energy. Gov. James A. Beaver of Pennsylvania noted in a
letter of appreciation to the Red Cross that “she was among the first to
arrive on the scene of calamity.... She was also the last of the
ministering spirits to leave the scene of her labors.” The city of
Johnstown scarcely knew how to express its thanks. “We cannot thank Miss
Barton in words,” an editorial in the _Johnstown Daily Tribune_ stated.
“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.”
Field work took up a large portion of Barton’s time in the 1880s, but
she was able to pursue some other interests and obligations. During
1883, for example, she was superintendent of the Women’s Reformatory
Prison at Sherborn, Massachusetts. She undertook the position at the
request of former general, now Gov. Benjamin F. Butler, but she took it
reluctantly. Her administration was characterized by the extension of
dignity and education to inmates, rather than punishment. She found the
work annoying and depressing, and she was glad to leave it and get back
to the Red Cross.
Between the burdensome paper work and correspondence of the Red Cross
and actual relief work, Barton found time to be the official American
representative to four International Red Cross conferences between 1882
and 1902. She enjoyed these trips to Europe, for they gave her a chance
to see friends and to be honored, as she always was by court and
convention. The international congress of 1884, at Geneva, was
especially memorable. An “American Amendment” to the Geneva Treaty was
adopted, and, as the head of the newest signatory power in the Red Cross
she was the center of attention. The amendment sanctioned Red Cross work
in peacetime calamities and was the direct result of her activities in
the United States. The congress cheered as she was praised as having
“the skill of a statesman, the heart of a woman, and the ‘final
perserverance [_sic_] of the saints.’”
Barton was also concerned with planning a national headquarters for the
American Red Cross. In the 1880s and early 1890s Red Cross headquarters
were located at various spots in Washington, D.C. After 1891, however,
plans were made to build a permanent home for the organization. Situated
at Glen Echo, Maryland, a short distance outside Washington, the new
building served both as office and home for Barton and her staff.
What few hours she could spare from Red Cross activities she devoted to
raising the status of women. She was proud that the Red Cross embodied
many of her beliefs. In the last two decades of the 19th century, she
continued to speak at rallies and join conventions promoting women’s
rights. Her lecture topics generally centered on philanthropic work done
by women, but she spoke out most vehemently on female suffrage. She was
incensed that the decision to let women vote hinged upon the assent of
male legislators, but she remained optimistic about the ultimate
outcome. She told one lecture audience that “there is no one to give
woman the right to govern herself. But in one way or another, sooner or
later, she is coming to it. And the number of thoughtful and
right-minded men who will oppose will be much smaller than we think, and
when it is really an accomplished fact, all women will wonder, as I have
done, what the objection ever was.”
Barton’s prestige lent respect to the feminist cause, and she was in
much demand as a lecturer and author. In 1888 alone, she spoke in
Montclair, New Jersey; Dansville, New York; Boston and Dorchester,
Massachusetts, and was a vice president and featured speaker at the
First International Woman’s Suffrage Conference in Washington, D.C.
Red Cross activities in the 1890s followed much the same pattern as
those of the previous decade. Hubbell and Barton oversaw relief to
tornado victims in Pomeroy, Iowa, in 1893, and helped those ravaged by a
hurricane off the coast of South Carolina in late 1893 and 1894. When
news of a famine in Russia reached the United States, the American Red
Cross obtained supplies, including 500 carloads of corn given by Iowa
farmers, and shipped them to Russia. The actual relief was relatively
little, but it pioneered the concept of peacetime foreign aid.
[Illustration: _Despite bouts of nervousness Clara Barton enjoyed
public speaking and was in great demand as a lecturer, talking
either about her Civil War experiences or women’s rights._]
LECTURE!
MISS CLARA BARTON,
OF WASHINGTON,
THE HEROINE OF ANDERSONVILLE,
The Soldier’s Friend, who gave her time and fortune during the war to
the Union cause, and who is now engaged in searching for the missing
soldiers of the Union army, will address the people of
LAMBERTVILLE, in
HOLCOMBE HALL,
THIS EVENING,
APRIL 7TH, AT 7½ O’CLOCK.
SUBJECT:
SCENES ON THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ADMISSION, 25 CENTS.
American money and supplies also were used to help victims of religious
wars in Turkey and Armenia during 1896. Although Turkey had signed the
Treaty of Geneva, Red Cross efforts were at first resisted there. Under
strong pressure from the American public, however, Barton and field
workers of the American Red Cross sailed for Turkey. They gained
admittance to the country and spent ten months helping the wounded and
distributing tools and medical supplies. It was, in many ways, a
harrowing experience, and the safety of the Americans was repeatedly
threatened. At least one of Barton’s biographers, Blanche Colton
Williams, thought that the Armenian relief work was the height of
Barton’s achievement.
Despite all of Clara Barton’s peacetime achievements, the Red Cross
remained officially connected with the military, its chief function
being to give medical aid in time of war. The Spanish-American War in
1898 provided the first chance for the American Red Cross to serve in
this official capacity. Unfortunately, the Red Cross effort was
fragmented, marked by contention and controversy, and it ultimately led
to the entire reorganization of the Red Cross in America.
The Red Cross, under Barton, sent various types of assistance to Cuba.
The earliest efforts, starting in January 1898, were in behalf of the
thousands of Cuban nationalists who had been herded into concentration
camps by the Spanish colonial government. Barton was giving civilian aid
in Cuba when the battleship USS _Maine_ blew up. When war was declared
on April 25, 1898, Barton and her small crew went to work in field
hospitals and hospital boats. She was distressed to find that once again
the Army Medical Department had sent inadequate personnel, and that
cots, food, and bandages were all lacking. “It is the Civil War all
over,” she lamented, “no improvement in a third of a century.”
Meanwhile a controversy of distressing proportions had developed within
the Red Cross. A powerful local auxiliary of the American Red Cross, in
New York, felt that the handful of workers led by 77-year-old Barton was
not adequate to meet the needs of troops and civilians. This chapter,
which became known as the Red Cross Relief Committee of New York, was,
in many ways, more powerful than Barton’s small national organization.
Where Barton’s group had concentrated on “hand to mouth” relief
efforts—those in which funds and supplies were given as soon as
received—the New York organization had gathered stores and funds, and
had established a hospital and school for nurses, and formed nearly 200
relief auxiliaries. It collected and shipped many more articles to Cuba
during 1898 than did the national society and sent several times the
number of trained nurses and doctors. The Red Cross Relief Committee of
New York was professionally run and its leaders were distressed by
Barton’s lowscale personal style, which had changed little since the
Civil War.
As she tried to retain control of the relief efforts, the New York group
fought for government sanction as the sole agency of the Red Cross
working in Cuba. Surgeon General George Sternberg favored the New
Yorkers, but the secretary of state upheld Barton’s claim. Little was
resolved and the two organizations continued to work independently. When
the New York Committee requested an accounting of funds spent in Cuba,
of which it had supplied the bulk, Barton wired to a subordinate: “If
insisted on refuse co-operation with [New York] committee.” Rivalry and
jealousy took the place of collaboration.
_Continues on page 56_
Scenes from the Spanish-American War
The Spanish-American War took place between April 25, 1898, and August
13, 1898. Battles were fought in the Philippines and Puerto Rico, but
most of the fighting was in Cuba. Public reaction to the oppressive
Spanish rule of Cuba initiated the conflict, when the battleship USS
_Maine_ exploded in February 1898. Although it was never proven, the
widespread belief was that the ship had been torpedoed by the
Spaniards. Clara Barton visited the _Maine_ a few days before the
disaster, and was nearby when the explosion occurred: “The heavy
clerical work of that fifteenth day of February held [us] ... busy at
our writing tables until late at night. The house had grown still; the
noises on the streets were dying away, when suddenly the table shook
from under our hands, the great glass door opening on to the ... sea
flew open; everything in the room was in motion or out of place, the
deafening roar of such a burst of thunder as perhaps one never heard
before, and off to the right, out over the bay, the air was filled
with a blaze of light, and this in turn filled with black specks like
huge specters flying in all directions. A few hours later came ...
news of the _Maine_.
“We proceeded to the Spanish hospital San Ambrosia, to find thirty to
forty wounded—bruised, cut, burned; they had been crushed by timbers,
cut by iron, scorched by fire, and blown sometimes high in the air,
sometimes driven down through the red-hot furnace room and out into
the water, senseless, to be picked up by some boat and gotten
ashore.... Both men and officers are very reticent in regard to the
cause, but all declare it could not have been the result of an
internal explosion....”
The earliest efforts of the Red Cross in Cuba were to aid the civilian
_reconcentrados_ who were being detained by the Spaniards. Medical
aid, clothing, and food were distributed, and hospitals and orphanages
established. When fighting broke out, however, the Red Cross moved to
supply the needs of the wounded. Clara Barton described the scene of
one hospital camp in July 1898: “[We] reached here [General William
Shafter’s headquarters] yesterday. Five more of us came today by army
wagon and on foot. Eight hundred wounded have reached this hospital
from front since Sunday morning. Surgeons and little squads have
worked day and night. Hospital accommodations inadequate and many
wounded on water-soaked ground without shelter or blankets. Our
supplies a godsend. Have made barrels of gruel and malted milk and
given food to many soldiers who have had none in three days.”
Barton, as always, pursued her work with impartiality: Cubans,
Spaniards, and Americans all received her care. Henry Lathrop, a
doctor who worked for the Red Cross Committee of New York felt this
had a direct bearing on the outcome of the war. “Miss Barton was
everywhere among the Spanish soldiers, sick, wounded and well. She was
blessed by the enemies of her country and I seriously doubt if
[General] Shafter himself did more to conquer Santiago with his men,
muskets and cannon, than this woman.... The wounded men told their
comrades about the kind treatment they had received at the hands of
the Americans, and the news spread through the Army like wild-fire,
completely changing the conditions. Those that preferred death to
surrender were now anxious to surrender.”
Despite such words of praise, Barton encountered some of the same
prejudices that had hindered her work during the Civil War. Lucy
Graves, Barton’s secretary, recorded that “some of the surgeons called
on us; all seemed interested in the Red Cross, but none thought that a
woman nurse would be in place in a soldier’s hospital. Indeed, very
much out of place.”
Most of the doctors changed their tune and were very happy to receive
Barton’s help and supplies during a battle. Another grateful recipient
of Red Cross supplies was Col. Theodore Roosevelt, commander of the
celebrated “Rough Riders.” One day Roosevelt showed up at Red Cross
headquarters requesting food and supplies for his sick men. “Can I buy
them from the Red Cross?” he asked.
“Not for a million dollars,” Barton said.
The colonel looked disappointed. He was proud of his men, and said
they needed these things. “How can I get them?” he insisted. “I must
have proper food for my sick men.”
“Just ask for them, colonel,” she said.
“Then I do ask for them,” he said.
“Before we had recovered from our surprise,” related Barton, “the
incident was closed by the future President of the United States
slinging the big sack over his shoulders, striding off ... through the
jungle.”
Probably no thrill in Barton’s life was greater than the honor
accorded her after the fall of Santiago, Cuba. When this city was
conquered, the first vessel to enter the harbor was the Red Cross
relief ship _The State of Texas_. A proud Barton stood on the deck of
the ship and led the little band of Red Cross workers in singing the
Doxology and “America.”
Barton viewed the New Yorkers as insurgents trying to usurp her glory.
“The world in general is after me in many ways,” she wrote. “I only wish
I could draw out of it _all_.” She believed that the New Yorkers’
function should have been one of supply and support for her own group,
and she could not understand why they criticized her for rushing off to
give relief rather than staying at home to direct the organization. And
she did not appreciate the problems that her absence from Washington
caused. The Army, irritated by the internal strife in the Red Cross,
supported neither group and offered little cooperation. Thus, the relief
effort in Cuba ended with minimal relief given and a divided American
Red Cross.
Storm and Controversy
To many members of the American Red Cross the work in the
Spanish-American War exemplified all that was wrong with their
organization: lack of coordination, and the arbitrary and short-sighted
rule of Clara Barton. Yet she seemed perfectly satisfied. In her book,
_The Red Cross in Peace and War_ (1898), she contended that the Red
Cross took a major and laudatory part in the hospital operations in
Cuba. She made no attempts at conciliation or compromise with her
critics and continued to run the American Red Cross in the same
individualistic style.
[Illustration: _Clara Barton insisted that assistance and relief
during peacetime become a standard Red Cross practice. Here the Red
Cross gives help after the hurricane at Galveston, Texas, in 1900._]
It came as no surprise to those who knew Barton when she rushed once
more to a scene of a disaster. In September 1900 a hurricane and tidal
wave nearly submerged Galveston, Texas, and Barton, though 80 years old,
did not hesitate. Six weeks later she returned to Glen Echo laden with
praise and testimonials that her achievements in Galveston were “greater
than the conquests of nations or the inventions of genius.”
Her desire to remain in the field stymied the growth of the American Red
Cross because she failed to delegate authority. When she spent six weeks
or ten months away from Washington she left behind no organization to
continue day-to-day activities, solicit contributions, or expand
programs. Local chapters felt alienated from the national group and
resented that they often provided the material support but saw little of
the praise. One critic, Sophia Welk Royce Williams, wrote: “The National
Red Cross Association in this country has been Miss Clara Barton, and
Miss Clara Barton has been the National Red Cross Society.... [The Red
Cross] has been of great service to suffering humanity, but when one
asks for detailed reports, for itemized statements of disbursements ...
these things either do not exist or are not furnished.” The better
course, Williams believed, would have been for the Red Cross to adopt
the organization of the Sanitary Commission. Barton’s group clearly
lacked a national organization, a national board, and reports that would
stand as models and guides for relief work.
If the organization suffered, the quality of relief did not. At least
one initially skeptical correspondent saw much to praise in the
one-woman show. While visiting the hurricane-devastated Sea Islands in
South Carolina, Joel Chandler Harris wrote that the Red Cross’s
“strongest and most admirable feature is extreme simplicity. The
perfection of its machinery is shown by the apparent absence of all
machinery. There are no exhibitions of self-importance. There is no
display—no tortuous cross-examination of applicants—no needless delay.
And yet nothing is done blindly, or hastily or indifferently.”
What Harris also saw was a concerted effort to assist without the
demeaning effects of charity. Barton developed a knack for leaving a
disaster area at the right time: “It is indispensable that one know 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.”
During her 23-year tenure as president of the American Red Cross, Clara
Barton was both its chief asset and its greatest liability. As founder
and president she promoted the Red Cross cause with all of her
considerable talent, and she brought zeal and idealism to Red Cross
relief work.
At the same time, her domineering, and sometimes high-handed, ways
hindered organizational growth. As Red Cross historian Foster Rhea
Dulles notes, her methods of administration were not always based on
sound business practices and did not command the confidence of many
people who might have given the association broader support.
Barton’s failure to delegate authority and to acknowledge popular
contributions more formally provided the basis for the criticism that
overwhelmed her between 1900 and 1904. It also accounted, at least in
part, for the bitter personal attacks that led to a deepening feud
between her friends and foes. Despite her adaptability in earlier days,
it was almost impossible for her to adjust to the new conditions of Red
Cross activity.
The group that opposed her was made up of prominent Red Cross workers
and was led by Mabel Boardman, an able and ambitious society woman.
Boardman’s group was anxious to see the Red Cross reorganized and their
cause gained momentum during 1900 and 1901. Barton refused to consider
it. Instead she divided the Red Cross into camps of “friends” and
“enemies.” She accused her foes of seeking power and of trying to gain
admission to the royal courts of Europe through the Red Cross. At the
annual meeting in 1902 after anticipating a move to force her
resignation, she rallied her forces and emerged with greater powers and
the presidency for life. “Perhaps not quite wise,” she wrote, “in view
of ugly remarks that may be made.” For the opposition, who believed that
the new charter had been railroaded through, this was the last straw.
After the 1902 meeting Barton thought that “the clouds of despair and
dread” had finally lifted, but events moved swiftly against her.
Boardman’s group succeeded in convincing President Theodore Roosevelt
that she was mishandling what was, by then, a quasi-governmental office.
On January 2, 1903, his secretary wrote to Barton stating that the
President and Cabinet would not serve—as all of his predecessors had—on
a committee of consultation for the Red Cross. The President directed
his secretary to announce publicly his withdrawal from the Red Cross
board.
Barton was humiliated by the President’s clear endorsement of the
opposition faction, but she was absolutely devastated by the subsequent
decision to have a government committee investigate the Red Cross. The
official charges maintained that proper books of accounts were not kept,
that funds and contributions were not always reported to the Red Cross
treasurer, and that money was distributed in an arbitrary and
inconsistent manner. There was also a question about a tract of land
located in Indiana that had been donated to the Red Cross but never
reported to the organizational board. The charges were serious. Barton
knew that she had often used only her own judgment to apportion relief
funds and that she seldom kept accurate records in the field. She was so
much a part of her organization that she often failed to differentiate
between personal and Red Cross expenses—using her own funds for relief
work and donations for private needs. Unofficially her foes also
contended that she was too old and infirm to lead the Red Cross; they
felt new blood was desperately needed.
Barton was deeply wounded by the controversy swirling around her. A
loyal and patriotic woman, she felt that her friends and country had
deserted her and that she had been scrupulously honest. For a time, she
even considered fleeing to Mexico, but she was dissuaded by friends.
Though the investigating committee dropped the charges, thereby
completely exonerating her from any wrongdoing, she felt the indignity
for the rest of her life.
It is ironic that the qualities Clara Barton cherished and exemplified
most—loyalty and friendship, honesty and individual action—were the very
ones in question during the investigation. She could not admit defeat,
or even unconscious wrongdoing of any kind. There is no question that
the time had come for her to give up leadership of the Red Cross, but it
is sad that her foes could not have eased her out more gracefully or
handled the situation with tact and sympathy. In May 1904, at the age of
83, Clara Barton resigned as president of the American Red Cross.
In retirement she broke all ties with the Red Cross but retained a
lively interest in its activities. She often felt bitter about the
events that preceded her resignation, and she particularly resented the
way in which new Red Cross members were prejudiced against her—“ignorant
of every fact, simply enemies by transmission.” She was also critical of
the way in which the new Red Cross leaders approached relief work,
especially during the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. A small note of
satisfaction is detected in a diary entry: “The President has withdrawn
the distribution of public moneys contributed for San Francisco from the
Red Cross.... He finds he made a mistake in giving too much power to the
Red Cross.”
Still, she usually wished the best for the Red Cross. Her “one great
desire” was to “leave my little immigrant of twenty-seven years ago a
great National Institution.” And she hoped her successors would be
“freed from the severity of toil, the anguish of perplexity,
uncertainty, misunderstanding, and often privations, which have been
ours in the past.”
One of her last public efforts was the formation, in 1905, of the
National First Aid Society, which helped establish community aid
programs. “I thought I had done my country and its people the most
humane service it would ever be in my power to offer,” commented Barton,
“But ... [the Red Cross] reached only a certain class. All the accidents
concerning family life ... manufactories and railroads ... were not
within its province. Hence the necessity and the opportunity for this
broader work covering all.”
[Illustration: _Theodore Roosevelt_]
_Continues on page 62_
“I Would Never Wear Undeserved Honors”
Clara Barton was one of the most decorated women in United States
history. In appreciation of her courageous humanitarian services she
received ten badges and medals from foreign countries. Many of these
medals were conferred upon her in person by such leaders as Kaiser
Wilhelm I of Germany and his daughter Louise, the grand duchess of
Baden. In one instance, Abdul Mamed, the sultan of Turkey, was so
impressed with Barton’s methods of relief work that he accompanied his
medal with a message to the State Department: if America desired to
send further relief to Turkey, please send Clara Barton and her
workers.
Although she was never officially honored by the United States
government, Barton received many private medals and honorary
memberships from American organizations; the Loyal Legion of Women of
Washington, D.C., the _Waffengenossen_ (German-American soldiers who
took part in the Franco-Prussian War), the Vanderbilt Benevolent
Association of South Carolina, and the Ladies of Johnstown,
Pennsylvania, were among those that honored Clara Barton in this way.
One award she particularly valued was a medal presented to her in 1882
by the International Committee of the Red Cross, when America adopted
the Treaty of Geneva. Barton was also proud of the numerous “royal
jewels” which were gifts of her friends the grand duchess of Baden,
and Augusta, empress of Germany. Barton’s favorite among these was a
large amethyst, carved in the shape of a pansy.
She enjoyed her decorations without apology. They were in old boxes
inside a “simple little wicker satchel,” and she rarely let them out
of her sight. She even took them with her when she traveled. Visitors
to her Glen Echo home were always eager to see the medals, and Barton
was eager to show them. She would spend hours telling stories about
the decorations beginning with a gold Masonic emblem. “My father gave
it to me when I started for the front (during the Civil War),” Barton
would say, “and I have no doubt that it protected me on many an
occasion.”
[Illustration: _Pansy carved from amethyst_]
[Illustration: _Iron Cross of Imperial Germany_]
[Illustration: _International Red Cross medal_]
Many of her favorite tales involved the Iron Cross of Germany; one of
these took place in Massachusetts. She had been invited to a ball at
which she wore a number of her medals. “I was being whirled around the
ballroom by some gallant or other when I saw three German officers
looking curiously at me as I passed. I wondered for a moment but
promptly forgot about it until, as we swung around the room again ...
the music suddenly stopped short. Everyone was gazing about
bewilderedly, when I saw three officers advancing toward me and
stopping, in front of me, gave the full German military salute. I was
thoroughly astonished, but rallied enough to return the salute, which
I fortunately remembered.” Barton thought the whole situation highly
amusing. “They did not know who I was,” she concluded, “they simply
dared not pass the Iron Cross without saluting it.”
[Illustration: _Smoky topaz with pearls_]
[Illustration: _Cross of Imperial Russia_]
[Illustration: _Masonic emblem_]
Another humorous incident involved one of Barton’s royal jewels. Many
of the decorations were valuable in themselves, for they were
fashioned from gold and silver and set with diamonds, sapphires, and
exquisite enamel work. However, one brooch in particular was precious:
a large smoky topaz set in gold, and surrounded by 24 perfectly
matched pearls, the gift of the grand duchess of Baden. Once Barton
took the brooch to Tiffany’s in New York for repair. She was dressed
simply, as was her habit, and an efficient floorwalker suspected that
perhaps she was not the rightful owner of the jewel. Eventually a
manager was brought in who recognized Barton and cleared up the
matter. He then expressed his admiration of the topaz brooch,
especially the 24 pearls. Clara Barton liked to remember how
astonished the suspicious floorwalker was that “such a shabby woman
should own such remarkable jewels.”
Barton enjoyed wearing her decorations as much as talking about them
and she nearly always pinned on several before addressing an audience,
or attending a meeting. In her later years she was often seen weeding
the garden or milking the cows with one or two medals attached to her
cotton workdress. On one occasion she was nearly weighted down by
simultaneously wearing the Iron Cross, the Red Cross of Geneva, the
Masonic badge, the Silver Cross of Serbia, and the extremely heavy
Empress Augusta Medal. Said Barton: “They do brighten up the old
dress.”
The business of First Aid took up much of her time, but she continued
her other interests. She attended and spoke at suffrage conventions and
held a party for 400 feminists at her Glen Echo home. But she viewed
with a jaundiced eye the arrival of the “suffragettes.” “Huge hats,
dangerous hatpins, hobble and harem skirts,” she observed in her diary
of 1911, “the conduct of the Suffragettes are [_sic_] hard to defend.”
She mourned the death of Susan B. Anthony in 1906, and gave her final
public remarks on behalf of women as a tribute to Anthony’s memory: “A
few days ago someone said in my presence that every woman in the world
should stand with bared head before Susan B. Anthony. Before I had time
to think I said, ‘And every man as well.’ I would not retract the words.
I believe her work is more for the welfare of man than for that of woman
herself. Man is trying to carry the burdens of the world alone. When he
had the efficient help of woman he should be glad, and he will be. Just
now it is new and strange, and men cannot comprehend what it would mean.
But when such help comes, and men are used to it, they will be grateful
for it. The change is not far away. This country is to know woman
suffrage, and it will be a glad and proud day when it comes.”
[Illustration: _In the years that Clara Barton spent at Glen Echo,
she came to love her house and yard. Here Dr. Hubbell, Mary Hines,
the housekeeper, and Clara Barton relax at the dinner table._]
Barton was also kept busy by the work of two households—the Glen Echo
house and a summer home in North Oxford, Massachusetts. She worked in
the gardens, put up fruit and vegetables, did her own laundry, and even
milked the cows. She also continued her voluminous correspondence, and
wrote a slim autobiographical volume, _The Story of My_ _Childhood_. The
book, published in 1907, was intended to be the first of a series. The
work of writing was taxing, however, and she never finished the second
volume. But she remained active. “I still work many hours, and walk many
miles,” she proudly told friends in 1909. In her diary she wrote that
she had had “a hard day’s work—but I am so thankful—so grateful that I
can do it, and am not a helpless invalid to be waited on.”
Barton knew she was aging but fought it. Privately she conceded that
“there is a lack of coordination between the brain and the limbs,” but
publicly she resented any allusion to her age. She disliked giving away
recent photographs of herself and wished people would accept pictures of
her in “strong middle life.” She also fooled nature—and many people—by
artistically covering her age. A young relative was amazed to find that
Aunt Clara “was very particular about her make-up and in those days
there were few people who dared use creams and rouge and powder, but
Aunt Clara used them skillfully and the result was most amazingly good.
She looked years younger when she had finished ... and her eyebrows were
treated with a pencil, if you please.
“Next came the combing of her coal black hair which, by the way, had
been dyed. Mother told me once when she was with Aunt Clara when she was
sick for a long period and couldn’t have her hair attended to, it was
lovely and white, but she would not have it so and wore it dyed black to
the very last.
“After her face and hair were finished ... [she] put on her waist, but
before buttoning it down the front, she stuffed tissue paper all across
the front to make a nice rounded bust.”
She was, in many ways, an eccentric figure. Visitors were amused to see
her weed the garden, her chest plastered with the decorations of foreign
governments. She was always an individual in matters of dress, but her
costumes became more unusual in her later years. Her favorite dress
color was green and she enjoyed wearing a dash of red. One outfit had
five ill-matching shades of green for skirt, sleeves, collar and bodice,
two kinds of lace, red ribbon, “and about the bottom ... was a strip of
the most awful old motheaten beaver fur, about six inches wide.”
Financially, she was quite well off, but in the best New England
tradition she practiced economy in all things.
When a part of her dress wore out, she apparently replaced it with
whatever material was on hand.
Most of Clara Barton’s friends and family died before her, and in her
last years she was often lonely. She sometimes thought her achievements
were worthless beside the importance of friendship. “_What matters the
praise of the world?_” Barton asked herself in her journal on February
6, 1907, “_and what matter after we leave it especially? How hollow is
that thing called fame._”
Barton’s loneliness heightened what had been a mild interest in
spiritualism. She used faith healers and urged them on others. From 1903
on she was a champion of Christian Science and was an outspoken defender
of Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of Christian Science. She also dabbled
in astrology and became a firm believer in spiritualistic seances. Much
of her time after 1907 was spent in the company of a medium. With
complete sincerity Barton recorded conversations with Lincoln, Grant,
and Sherman, with her family, and with old friends Susan B. Anthony,
President McKinley, and Empress Augusta of Germany. She relied on these
“spirits” for advice and persuaded Dr. Hubbell to depend on them, too.
This had unfortunate repercussions. After Barton’s death, Hubbell was
taken in by a woman who claimed to have made contact with Barton’s
spirit. Hubbell was so under the influence of this woman that he
actually gave her the house at Glen Echo. It was several years and court
cases later before he got the house back.
Clara Barton died on April 12, 1912, at the age of 90. She had endured
double-pneumonia twice in one year and was too weak to recover fully.
Her last words, recalled from a favorite poem, were “Let me go, let me
go.”
She was a remarkable woman. She was neither the Christ-like figure Dr.
Hubbell idolized, nor the grasping Red Cross potentate that others saw.
She was an individual capable of firm action, strong beliefs, and an
ability to see a need clearly and fulfill it. To everything she
did—schoolteaching, Civil War aid, and Red Cross relief—she brought
strong idealism and unfailing energy. She was truly exceptional.
[Illustration: _In 1902 Clara Barton was asked to be commencement
speaker for Philadelphia’s Blockley Hospital nursing class. Here she
poses with the graduates for the camera. By her eighty-first year
she had become a national figure despite the mounting criticism of
her management of the American Red Cross._]
Guide and Adviser
[Illustration: _Clara Barton and Red Cross workers have a picnic in
Tampa, Florida, in 1898._]
Clara Barton National Historic Site: A Saga of Preservation
[Illustration: _An exterior view of the house at Glen Echo._]
Clara Barton’s house in Glen Echo owes its existence to two unrelated
facts: The 1889 Johnstown Flood and a plan for a housing development at
Glen Echo. In 1890, two brothers, Edwin and Edward Baltzley, decided to
develop a cultural and intellectual residential community in Glen Echo.
The next year they established a branch of the National Chautauqua, an
association dedicated to education and productive recreation. The
Baltzley brothers approached Clara Barton and offered her a plot of land
and the workmen necessary to build a structure if she would locate in
their community. They hoped that the attraction of such a well-known
personality as Barton would be a testimonial to the soundness of their
enterprise.
The proposal suited Barton perfectly, for she was looking for a location
on which she could build a new headquarters building for the Red Cross.
After the Johnstown Flood she and Dr. Julian Hubbell had had one of the
Red Cross warehouses dismantled and the lumber shipped to Washington,
D.C., where she hoped to use it for the construction of the new
headquarters building. The Baltzleys’ offer came just at the right
moment and she accepted immediately. Although it was understood that it
was Red Cross property, the land was deeded directly to her. The whole
transaction was typical of the confusion that Barton allowed to exist
between her private possessions and those of the Red Cross; she could
never clearly separate the two.
Dr. Hubbell supervised the construction of the building, clearly
following the lines of the Johnstown structure. Here, however, he added
an extra flourish: a third floor “lantern” room over the central well.
In the summer of 1891 Barton and Hubbell moved in, but she found daily
travel to Washington, D.C., every day too taxing and decided to use the
house at Glen Echo strictly as a warehouse.
In 1897 electric trolley lines made Glen Echo more accessible to
Washington, and she decided once again to try living in Glen Echo.
Extensive remodeling made the house livable. A stone facade originally
built so that the Red Cross headquarters would harmonize with the nearby
Chautauqua buildings, which were never built, was removed and the house
was painted a warm yellow with brown trim.
[Illustration: _The center hall with its balconies._]
[Illustration: _The front parlor contains furniture that originally
belonged to Clara Barton. The portrait is of her cat Tommy._]
The Glen Echo house was the headquarters of the American National Red
Cross from 1897 to 1904. As such it was the scene of much official
activity. But it was also a quiet retreat, a farm, and a home. Chickens
and a cow provided food for the household that usually included eight or
nine staff members. Frequent overnight guests and indigents sheltered by
Clara Barton swelled this number further. Her horses, Baba and Prince,
were housed in a stable, and cats Tommy and Pussy roamed the grounds. A
large vegetable garden furnished fresh produce. The grounds were a
profusion of flowers and vegetables mixed together. Visitors noted that
carrots and beets edged the walkway out to the trolley stop. Beds of
marigolds, corn, roses, and tomatoes grew together. Of particular pride
to the owner were the two varieties of Clara Barton rose that were
developed independently by two nurserymen: Conrad Jones in West Grove,
Pennsylvania, and Mr. Hofmeister in Cincinnati, Ohio. Strawberry plants
sent to her by the grateful farmers of Galveston, Texas, in appreciation
of her services after the disastrous hurricane and tidal wave in 1900
provided great desserts each June.
In 1909 Barton deeded the house to Dr. Hubbell—perhaps in fear that the
Red Cross might try to reclaim the building after her death. When she
died in 1912, Dr. Hubbell together with Mrs. John Logan and Gen. W.H.
Sears formed the Clara Barton Memorial Association. They hoped to turn
the house into a monument to Barton’s memory. They sold memberships in
the association to finance the maintenance of the property but the
response was poor, and they soon ran into financial problems.
The solution to their problems appeared to be at hand when Mabelle
Rawson Hirons came on the scene. A native of North Oxford,
Massachusetts, she was an acquaintance of Clara Barton and thus known to
Hubbell and his colleagues. She claimed that Barton had appeared to her
at a seance and told her to go to Washington and take charge of the Glen
Echo house. This message “from the beyond” and Mrs. Hirons’ assurances
that she was wealthy and would take care of all the financial problems
were all that the Memorial Association members needed to receive her
with open arms. Even her demand that Dr. Hubbell sign the deed over to
her raised no doubts.
Within a short time it became startlingly apparent that Mrs. Hirons was
not about to pay off the debts of the house. Instead she was using the
house to pay off _her_ debts by selling Barton’s own furniture and
renting out rooms. Dr. Hubbell was evicted by Mrs. Hirons and abandoned
by members of the Memorial Association who were disgusted with his
failure to understand what Mrs. Hirons was doing. He had to fend for
himself until a Mr. and Mrs. Canada, owners of a local grocery store,
took him in. They persuaded him to sue Mrs. Hirons in 1922, and four
years later the courts returned the house to him.
Dr. Hubbell died in 1929 and left the house to two of his nieces, Rena
and Lena Hubbell. Only Rena lived in the house, which she ran as a
rooming house. In 1942 she and her sister sold it to Josephine Frank
Noyes, who had come to Washington from Iowa. Mrs. Noyes and her sister
Henrietta Frank continued to run it as a rooming house. They also urged
people to come and see “Clara Barton’s House.” They took care of the
remaining original furniture and even managed to acquire some of the
pieces that Mrs. Hirons had sold.
In 1958 Mrs. Noyes died and left the property to her four sisters:
Frances Frank, Henrietta Frank, Katherine Frank Bronson, and Sarah Frank
Rhodes. By 1963 the sisters, being quite elderly, felt that the house
was too big for them to keep up and decided to sell it. The amusement
park next door offered them $50,000. The sisters feared that the house
would be torn down to enlarge the amusement park’s parking lot. Unhappy
at such a possibility, they decided to sell the house for $35,000 to
anyone who would save and maintain the property even though this would
mean a financial loss to themselves.
A group of Montgomery County, Maryland, Red Cross volunteers met and
proposed that the American National Red Cross buy the property and
preserve it as a historic site. The Red Cross replied that it could not
use its money for such a purpose, that its donations could only go for
disaster relief. The Red Cross, however, did enthusiastically support
the preservation project and in May 1963 passed a resolution urging all
Red Cross members to support the fund-raising effort. On May 28, 1963,
this group incorporated itself as the Friends of Clara Barton. They
agreed to pay the Frank sisters $1,000 by July 1963 to secure the sale.
A whirlwind of bake sales, fashion shows, and other events had raised
only $800 by the deadline. Several members went to talk to the Frank
sisters to get an extension of the deadline. As they were talking, the
amusement park’s lawyer walked in and handed one of the sisters a check
for $50,000. While they pondered whether to accept the check or grant an
extension, one of the Friends ran into the house and burst into the room
with a check for $200. The Franks handed the lawyer his $50,000 check
and sent him packing.
This was only the initial hurdle, for half of the remaining $34,000,
plus the settlement costs had to be raised by January 1, 1964. Public
solicitation, two house tours, and two benefits raised the amount and at
the turn of the year the Friends took possession. Later the group bought
all of Clara Barton’s furniture in the sisters’ possession.
In the succeeding years the Friends continued to raise money and work on
the house to repair structural defects. In April 1965 the house was
designated a registered national landmark. The Friends made their final
payment on the mortgage in early 1975. In April they presented the deed
to the National Park Service in accordance with legislation passed by
Congress in October 1974 authorizing the establishment of Clara Barton
National Historic Site.
In December 1979 the Friends disbanded and donated the $8,435.37
remaining in their treasury to the park to purchase furnishings for the
Red Cross Offices in the house. Their generosity contributed
substantially to the preservation of this property and ensured its
survival.
Since acquiring the property, the National Park Service has done
extensive research on the building and its contents to determine the
proper course of the preservation efforts. Today, work continues on the
building and on acquiring furnishings that reflect these findings.
The process of restoration is simultaneously tedious and fascinating.
Bit by bit the materials—wallpaper, partitions, even bathrooms—added
after Clara Barton’s time are removed, revealing the original fabric of
the building. Newspapers found in the walls as insulation are removed,
flattened, and saved. Historic floors, 1908 electrical wiring, and
doorways reappear. New questions arise as old ones are answered. The
sources are the house itself, Clara Barton’s diary and other writings,
and a collection of historic photographs. Each source adds a different
perspective to the restoration of her home and to a better understanding
of her life.
Clara Barton National Historic Site is open for guided tours on a
limited basis. For details call 301-492-6245. Free parking is available.
The park offers a variety of special programs on Clara Barton and her
times.
[Illustration: _Red Cross family tree_]
[Illustration: _Diary and first aid kit_]
National Park Service Sites Associated with Clara Barton
Andersonville National Historic Site, Andersonville, Georgia 31711. The
park is the site of the Confederate prison camp for Union prisoners of
war. In 1865 Clara Barton met Dorence Atwater, a former prisoner at
Andersonville, while she was involved in her search for missing men.
Edwin M. Stanton, secretary of war, approved of her plan to go to
Andersonville with Atwater and identify as many of the graves as
possible. Atwater’s written record, which he had kept during his
imprisonment, listed each man’s name and the number that marked his
position in the trench; by comparing this list with the cemetery’s
numbered markers Barton had no trouble identifying 12,920 graves; 440
remained unknown. During her stay in Andersonville, Barton wrote to
Secretary Stanton requesting that the former prison grounds be turned
into a national cemetery. Stanton agreed and on August 17, 1865, Barton
raised the flag at the dedication.
The park museum contains an exhibit devoted to the work of Barton and
Atwater and further explains their role in the establishment of the
cemetery. The park is open daily except for January 1, Thanksgiving, and
December 25.
[Illustration: Andersonville cemetery.]
Antietam National Battlefield, Box 158, Sharpsburg, Maryland 21782.
During the battle of Antietam, Clara Baron attended and helped a
Pennsylvania surgeon tend to the Union wounded. The location of this
activity has never been precisely determined, though it is known that it
did not take place on ground currently owned by the park. Within the
park near stop 2 on the driving tour is a monument erected by the
Washington County, Maryland, Red Cross chapter in honor of her work
during the battle. The park is located north and east of Sharpsburg in
west central Maryland and contains the ground on which the bloody
September 17, 1862, battle was fought. It is open daily except for
January 1, Thanksgiving, and December 25.
[Illustration: Antietam battlefield.]
Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania County Battlefields Memorial National
Military Park, P.O. Box 679, Fredericksburg, Virginia 22401. At Chatham
Manor, across the Rappahannock River from Fredericksburg, you can visit
the house where Clara Barton provided relief and comfort to the wounded
during the battle of Fredericksburg. Exhibits in the Manor about
Barton’s role include a letter written to a cousin describing the battle
scene and her work. Chatham Manor is open daily from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. It
is closed January 1 and December 25. The main visitor center for the
park, which contains the battlefields of Fredericksburg,
Chancellorsville, the Wilderness, and Spotsylvania Court House, is on
U.S. 1 (Lafayette Avenue) in Fredericksburg. A self-guiding automobile
tour connects all the battlefields.
[Illustration: Reenactment at Fredericksburg]
Johnstown Flood National Memorial, P.O. Box 247, Cresson, Pennsylvania
16630. The park is located along U.S. 219 and Pa. 869 at the site of the
South Fork Dam, 16 kilometers (10 miles) northeast of Johnstown,
Pennsylvania. Located at the dam site are a small visitor center,
restroom, interpretive trails, and a picnic area with tables and cooking
grills. If you drive to Saint Michael on Pa. 869, which closely follows
the shore of the 1889 lake, you will pass some of the Queen Anne
cottages and the clubhouse that were part of the resort at Lake
Conemaugh. Grandview Cemetery in Johnstown contains the graves of many
victims, including 777 who were never identified. The park is open daily
except Thanksgiving, December 25, and January 1.
[Illustration: Aftermath of Johnstown flood]
Manassas National Battlefield Park, Box 1830, Manassas, Virginia 22110.
During the battle of Second Manassas, Clara Barton arrived in Fairfax
Station, Virginia, by train with supplies for caring for the wounded.
She joined a Federal field hospital that had moved into the hamlet ahead
of the Union retreat. At St. Mary’s Roman Catholic Church in Fairfax
Station the Union doctors set up a hospital. Barton arrived at the same
time and contributed medical help. She never reached the battlefield
that is preserved in today’s park. St. Mary’s Church still stands at
11112 Fairfax Station Road, Fairfax Station, Virginia, and a plaque on
its wall honors Barton’s work.
[Illustration: Statue of Jonathan “Stonewall” Jackson at Manasses]
National Park Service Sites Commemorating American Women
Eleanor Roosevelt National Historic Site, Hyde Park, New York 12538.
Eleanor Roosevelt used “Val-Kill” as a retreat from the cares of her
busy and active life. At the cottage, built in 1925 in a pastoral
setting, she entertained friends and dignitaries and promoted the many
causes in which she was interested.
[Illustration: Eleanor Roosevelt National Historic Site]
Maggie L. Walker National Historic Site, c/o Richmond National
Battlefield Park, 3215 E. Broad Street, Richmond, Virginia 23223. The
brick house at 110A E. Leigh Street was the home of the first woman
president of an American bank. She was the daughter of an ex-slave.
[Illustration: Maggie L. Walker National Historic Site]
Sewall-Belmont House National Historic Site, 144 Constitution Avenue,
NE, Washington, D.C. 20002. Since 1929 this house has been the
headquarters of the National Woman’s Party. It commemorates Alice Paul,
a women’s suffrage leader and the party’s founder, and her associates.
[Illustration: Sewall-Belmont House]
Related Sites
The American National Red Cross Headquarters, 17th between D and E
Streets, NW, Washington, D.C. 20006. After Clara Barton resigned as
president, the Red Cross needed to find a suitable place for its
headquarters. After spending some years in various unused rooms in
government office buildings, the U.S. Congress approved legislation that
provided $400,000 to match an equal amount raised privately by Red Cross
officials and that donated a city block of land for a building. The land
has remained U.S. Government property although it is in the perpetual
custody of the American Red Cross. The main building, which fronts on
17th Street, contains exhibit areas on the ground and main floors. A
library on the third floor of the office building contains extensive
holdings about the Red Cross and related subjects. The complex of
buildings is open to the public 8:30 a.m. to 4:45 p.m. Monday through
Friday.
[Illustration: American National Red Cross Headquarters]
Clara Barton Birthplace, 68 Clara Barton Road, North Oxford,
Massachusetts 01537. Clara Barton was born in this house on Christmas
Day, 1821, the youngest child of Stephen and Sally Barton. The house,
which had been built shortly before her birth, is now a museum and
contains memorabilia of Clara Barton and her family. The house is open
from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday in July and August. The
remainder of the year it is open only by appointment, primarily for
school and private groups. A fee is charged.
[Illustration: Bedroom in Clara Barton birthplace]
Johnstown Flood Museum, 304 Washington Street, Johnstown, Pennsylvania
15901. The museum chronicles the events of the disastrous flood of 1889.
Special exhibits detail the role of Clara Barton and the American Red
Cross. Here the new organization first demonstrated its ability to
respond to a major disaster. The museum continues to work closely with
the local chapter of the American Red Cross in maintaining a record of
the organization’s relief through the years in this flood-prone valley.
The museum is open 10 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday to Saturday, and from
12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. on Sundays. It is closed January 1, Memorial
Day, July 4, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, and December 25. A fee is charged;
group rates are available.
[Illustration: Johnstown Flood Museum]
Manuscript Reading Room, Library of Congress, 10 First Street, SE,
Washington, D.C. 20540. In the 1930s the Hubbell sisters were doing some
remodeling on the Clara Barton House. In the process they discovered a
boarded-up corridor between two bedrooms. When the corridor was reopened
they found the area filled with Clara Barton’s personal papers, diaries,
scrapbooks, and other memorabilia of her life and career. Who put them
there remains unknown. The two sisters presented the entire cache to the
Library of Congress. The collection has been sorted and indexed and is
available for the use of scholars only.
[Illustration: Library of Congress]
Armchair Explorations: Some Books You May Want to Read
Barton, Clara. _A Story of the Red Cross; Glimpses of Field Work._ New
York: D. Appleton and Company, 1904.
——. _The Story of My Childhood._ New York: The Baker and Taylor
Company, 1907.
Barton, William E. _The Life of Clara Barton._ 2 vols. Boston:
Houghton Mifflin, 1922.
Dulles, Foster Rhea. _The American Red Cross: A History._ New York:
Harper, 1950.
Dunant, Jean-Henri. _A Memory of Solferino._ Washington, D.C.: The
American National Red Cross, 1939.
Fishwick, Marshall. _Illustrious Americans: Clara Barton._ Morristown,
New Jersey: Silver-Burdett, 1966.
Flexner, Eleanor. _Century of Struggle: The Women’s Rights Movement in
the United States._ Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1974.
Leech, Margaret. _Reveille in Washington, 1860-1865._ New York:
Harper, 1941.
Ross, Ishbel. _Angel of the Battlefield._ New York: Harper and
Brothers, 1956.
★ GPO: 1981—341-611/1
Stock Number 024-005-00806-3.
For sale by the Superintendent of Documents,
U.S. Government Printing Office,
Washington, DC 20402
Index
_Numbers in italics refer to photographs or illustrations._
A
American Equal Rights Association, 32
American Red Cross, 27, 42;
disaster relief, 6, 11, 33, 34, 48-59 _passim_, 77;
headquarters, 6-7, 13, 52, 68-71, 76;
photos, _51_, _56_, _68-69_, _71_;
under Clara Barton’s leadership, 11, 45, 46, 48-50, 52, 54,
56-59
Andersonville National Historic Site, 6, 33, _72-73_
Anthony, Susan B., 7, _10_, 43, 62
Antietam National Battlefield, 6, 25, _72_
Appia, Louis, 10, 11, 35, 39, 43
Atwater, Dorence, 33-34, 72
B
Baltzley brothers, 68
Barton, Clarissa (Clara) Harlow, 16, 18, 42, 59, 62-64;
and International Red Cross, 43-46, 52;
and women’s rights, 7, 18, 20, 43, 52-53, 62;
as American Red Cross leader, 8, 11, 13, 45-59 _passim_;
as lecturer, 34, 44, 52-53;
biography, 8-13, 16-17, 42, 64, 76;
European travels, 35-37, 40-42;
health, 20-21, 34, 36, 40, 42;
memorabilia and papers, 6, 60-61, 71, 77;
other careers, 17-18, 20, 21-22, 31, 52;
personality, 16, 17, 26-36 _passim_, 43, 46, 47-48, 54, 56;
photos, _8_, _46_, _53_, _64-65_;
publications, 10, 12, 13, 43, 44, 56, 62-63;
relief activities, 11, 12, 13, 22-34 _passim_, 54-56, 72, 74;
retirement, 59, 62-64
Barton Birthplace, Clara, _76_
Barton Memorial Association, Clara, 70
Barton National Historic Site, Clara, 68, 13, 52, 70-71;
photos _12_, _68-69_
Barton, David (brother), 16, _19_, 30
Barton, Dolly (sister), 17
Barton, Edward, 19
Barton, Julia, 17
Barton, Sally (sister), 17, 42
Barton, Sarah Stone (mother), _16_
Barton, Stephen (father), _19_, 23
Barton, Stephen (brother), 16, 19, 30
Barton, William E., 47
Beaver, James A., 50, 52
Bellows, Henry, 36, _43_, 45
Blackwell, Elizabeth, 9
Boardman, Mabel, _13_, 57, 58
Bowles, Charles, 36, 43
Butler, Benjamin, _31_, 52
C
Civil War:, battles, 6, 23, 25, 30, _72_, 73;
relief work, 22-23, 25-29, 30-32
Clinton Liberal Institute, 9, 18
D
Dix, Dorothea, _27_, 29
Dunant, Jean-Henri, 13, _35_-36, 38-39, 44
F
Franco-Prussian War, 10, 37, _40-41_, 43
Frank sisters, 70
Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania County Battlefields Memorial
National Military Park, 6, 25, _73_
Friends of Clara Barton, 13, 70, 71
Freedmen, 32-33
G
Gage, Frances Dana, 27, _44_
Geneva Convention. _See_ Treaty of Geneva
Glen Echo house. _See_ Clara Barton National Historic Site
Graves, Lucy, 55
H
Harris, Joel Chandler, 57
Hirons, Mabelle Rawson, 70
Hubbell, Julian, 41, 47, 48, 68, 70;
photos _10_, _64-65_
Hubbell cousins, 70
J
Johnstown flood, 6, 12, 50, _51_, 52, 68, _74_, _77_
L
Lapham, Elbridge, 45
Lincoln, Abraham, _9_, 22, 33
Logan, Mrs. John, 70
Louise, Grand Duchess of Baden, _10_, 37, 42, 47, 50, 60, 61
M
Manassas National Battlefield Park, 74.
_See also_ Civil War battles
Margot, Antoinette, 36, 40, 42, 46
Moynier, Gustav, 39, 45
N
Napoleon III, _37_, 38, 43
National First Aid Society, 13, 59, 62
National Park Service, 6, 13, 71
Noyes, Josephine Frank, 70
R
Red Cross, International, 10, 11, 35, 36, 40, 43, 52, 60
Red Cross Relief Committee of New York, 54, 55
Roosevelt National Historic Site, Eleanor, _75_
Roosevelt, Theodore, 55, 58, _59_
S
Sears, W.H., 70
Second Manassas, 6, 23, _74_
Sewall-Belmont House National Historic Site, _75_
Shepard, Hannah, 44
_Souvenir de Solferino, Un_, 35, 36, 38, 39, 44
Spanish-American War, 33
Stanton, Edwin M., 72
Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, _10_, 18
Stone, Elvira, 18, 20, 36
T
Treaty of Geneva, 35-46 _passim_, 60.
_See also_ International Red Cross
Tubman, Harriet, _9_
U
U.S. Christian Commission, 27, 29
U.S. Sanitary Commission, 26, 27, 36, 57
W
Walker National Historic Site, Maggie L., _75_
Welles, C.M., 25
Whitman, Walt, 27, _29_
Wilhelm I, Kaiser, _37_, 60
Williams, Sophia W.R., 57
Wilson, Henry, 21, 23, 30, 32, 42
Women’s rights, 7, 8, 32, 44, 62;
and Clara Barton, 18, 20, 43, 52-53
Footnote
[1]_From Clara Barton’s poem, “The Women Who Went to the Field.”_
National Park Service
The National Park Service expresses its appreciation to all those who
made the preparation and production of this handbook possible.
Text
Elizabeth Brown Pryor, who wrote Part 2, is a professional historian.
She is the author of several journal and magazine articles on
nineteenth-century America and lives in Washington, D.C.
Illustrations
The artwork on the cover and on the three double pages introducing the
different sections of the book is by Mark English of Fairway, Kansas.
American Red Cross 11 steamboats, 13 Boardman, 39, and 64-65.
Clara Barton Birthplace 76 birthplace.
Johnstown Flood Museum 77 museum.
Library of Congress 8, 9, 10 Anthony, Stanton, and Louise of Baden,
11 Hayes, Garfield, and Arthur, 12 Wald and Adams, 16, 19, 21,
24, 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 35, 37, 40-41, 43, 44, 46, 51, 53, 56,
60-61.
Museum of Modern Art 59.
New York Public Library 22.
Robert Shafer 68, 69, 71, 75 Sewall-Belmont, 76 American Red Cross,
77 Library of Congress.
Smithsonian Institution 12 ambulance.
All other photographs come from the files of Clara Barton National
Historic Site and the National Park Service.
U.S. Department of the Interior
As the Nation’s principal conservation agency, the Department of the
Interior has responsibility for most of our nationally owned public
lands and natural resources. This includes fostering the wisest use of
our land and water resources, protecting our fish and wildlife,
preserving the environmental and cultural values of our national parks
and historical places, and providing for the enjoyment of life through
outdoor recreation. The Department assesses our energy and mineral
resources and works to assure that their development is in the best
interest of all our people. The Department also has a major
responsibility for American Indian reservation communities and for
people who live in island territories under U.S. administration.
Transcriber’s Notes
—Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook
is public-domain in the country of publication.
—Relocated all image captions to be immediately under the corresponding
images, removing redundant references like ”preceding page”.
—Silently corrected a few palpable typos.
—In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by
_underscores_.