XCVI

Finally Clara Barton was forced out of her position in May, 1904.

New York Examiner.

Clara Barton—antagonism she encountered. But in all of them she bore herself with a poise that lost for her no friends.

Utica (N. Y.)Observer.

I know there is a God, and he hates injustice.A. Lincoln.

There were no heroes, there were no martyrs.

Bulwer-Lytton.

Great women belong to history and self-sacrifice.

Leigh Hunt.

I am in the Garden of Gethsemane now, and my cup of bitterness is full to the overflowing.A. Lincoln.

Let us have faith that right makes might.A. Lincoln.

Why should there not be a patient confidence in the ultimate justice of the people? Is there any better, or equal, hope in the world?A. Lincoln.

Beneficence breeds gratitude, gratitude admiration, admiration fame, and the world remembers its benefactors.

President Woodrow Wilson.

To be great is to be misunderstood.Ralph Waldo Emerson.

The people will never understand the motive, and of course cannot comprehend that it was necessary for the “aspirants” to resortto “charges” in order to accomplish their purpose,—to gain possession of the Red Cross.Clara Barton.

What you are speaks so loud I cannot hear what you say.

Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Crowns of roses fade; crowns of thorns endure. Calvaries and Crucifixions take deepest hold of humanity; the triumphs of might are transient, they pass and are forgotten; the sufferings of the right are graven deepest on the chronicles of nations.

Father Ryan.

Alas! I have not words to tell my grief:To vent my sorrows would be some relief.Dryden.

Alas! I have not words to tell my grief:

To vent my sorrows would be some relief.Dryden.

For the heart must speak whenThe lips are dumb.Kate Putnam Osgood.

For the heart must speak when

The lips are dumb.Kate Putnam Osgood.

Clara Barton speaketh from the heart in eloquence pathetic and convincing; through her own words, written to Professor Charles Sumner Young at this time (1904), are “The most vital, and interesting of a wonderful life and a wonderful work, and few men hear of it without envy and emulation.”New York Sun.

Occurring in October, 1911, in the sick room at Oxford, was the following interview:

Mr. Young: Miss Barton, you once requested me to do a certain thing for you. I did not do it then and I won’t do it now, so please don’t ask it.

Miss Barton: What’s that? I don’t understand.

Mr. Young: You requested me to destroy a certain letter. I did not do it.

Miss Barton: Was that the letter in which I asked you to take me to Mexico? And why did you not destroy it as I requested?

Mr. Young: That’s the letter. It is now in a safe deposit box in Los Angeles. I did not destroy it because, in my opinion, that letter would do more in your defense than any argument that could be put up by the greatest lawyers in America. What you wrote at the time of your persecution, in confidence to a friend with a request that the letter be destroyed, the American people would believe. No slander would stand for a moment against your heart’s secrets, thus told to a friend. In case I should die before you do, I have arrangements with a mutual personal friend that in any event the letter will be published after you shall have passed.

Miss Barton: (Hesitatingly, then very frankly): Mr. Young, you are a very wise man; possibly you are right. Anyway, do what you please with that letter when I am gone. Now, Mr. Young, I meant it. For several months I was getting together my belongings and adjusting my affairs so that I could go. There were but two countries where theRed Crossdid not exist; one was China, and the other Mexico. I did not want to go to China, but I did want to go to Mexico. Oh! Well, it’s probably best that I did not go; if I had gone I might not be alive now.

Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.Shakespeare.

Have stooped my neck under your injuries, eating the bitter bread of banishment.Shakespeare.

The letter referred to and similar correspondence follow:

Glen Echo, Maryland,January 13, 1904.

Glen Echo, Maryland,

January 13, 1904.

My dear Mr. Young:

It is a blessing to your friends that you have a good memory. Otherwise, how should you have carried the recollection of poor me, all these weary months running into years and, through friends all unknown to me, sent such tribute of respect.

I waited, after receiving the notices from you, to be sure of the arrival. I have directed the acknowledgement to be made to Mr. and Mrs. Canfield, but words tell so little; you will, I am sure, thank them for me.

You will never know how many times I have thought of you, in this last, hard and dreadful year to me. I cannot tell you, I mustnot, and yet Imust. So much of the time, under all the persecution it has seemed to me Icouldnot remain in thecountry, and have sought the range of the world forsomeplace among strangers and out of the way of people and mails—and longed for some one topointout a quiet place in someotherland; my thoughts have fled to you, who would at least tell me aroadto take, outside of America, and who would ask of the authorities of Mexico if a woman who could not live in her own country might find a home, or a resting place, in theirs.

©Hartsook.CHAMP CLARKClara Barton rendered her country and her kind great and noble service.—Champ Clark, of Missouri. Congress, 1893–1895; 1897–1921; Speaker of the House, 1911–1921.

REPRESENTATIVE OF UNITED STATES CONGRESS

CHARLES F. CURRY

DENVER S. CHURCH

Clara Barton, one of the great characters of history; unselfish and altruistic in her service for humanity; an American, intensely patriotic, but with an international mind and sympathy that embraced all humanity.—Charles F. Curry, of California. Congress 1913—

I regard Clara Barton one of the greatest women that ever lived.—Denver S. Church, of California. Congress, 1913–1919.

This will all sound very strange to you—you will wonder if I am “out of my mind”—let me answer—no; and if you had only a glimpse of what is put upon me to endure, you would not wonder, and in the goodness of your heart, would hold the gate open to show me a mule-track to some little mountain nook, where I might escape and wait in peace. Don’t think this iscommontalk with me, I have never said it to others; and yet I think they, who know me best, maymistrustthat I cannot endureeverythingand will try in some way to relieve myself.

To think of sitting here through an “investigation” by the country I have tried to serve,—“in the interest ofharmony,” they say, when I have never spoken a discordant word in my life, meaningly, but have worked on insilenceunder the fire of the entire press of the U. S. for twelve months,—forgiven all, offered friendship,—and am still to be “investigated,” for “inharmony,” “unbusinesslike methods,” and too many years—all of these I cannot help. I am still unanimously bidden to work on for “life,” bear the burden of an organization—meet its costs myself—and am now threatened with the expenses of an “investigation.”

Can you wonder that I ask a bridle track? And that some other country might look inviting to me?

Mr. Young, this unhappy letter is a poor return to make for your friendly courtesy, butso longmy dark thoughts have turned to you that I cannot find myself with the privilege of communicating with you without expressing them. I cannot think where I have found the courage to do it, but Ihave.

I know how unwise a thing it seems but if the pressure is too great the bands may break, that may be my case, and fearing that my better judgment might bid me put these sheets in the fire—I send them without once glancing over. You will glance them over and put them in the fire. Forgive me. You need not forget,but kindlyremember, rather, that they are the wail of an aching heart and that is all. Nature has provided a sure and final rest for all the heart aches that mortals are called to endure.

If you are in the East again, and I am here, I pray you come to me.

Receive again my thanks and permit me to remain,

Your friend,(Signed)Clara Barton.

Your friend,

(Signed)Clara Barton.

Earth naught nobler knowsThan is the victim brave beneath his cross.’Tis in the shadow that the dawn-light grows.Archag Tchobanian.

Earth naught nobler knows

Than is the victim brave beneath his cross.

’Tis in the shadow that the dawn-light grows.

Archag Tchobanian.

Bakersfield Club,Bakersfield, Cal., February 2, 1904.My Dear Miss Barton:

Bakersfield Club,Bakersfield, Cal., February 2, 1904.

Bakersfield Club,

Bakersfield, Cal., February 2, 1904.

My Dear Miss Barton:

Your favor of January 13 received, and read with exceeding interest. Mr. and Mrs. Canfield appreciate your letter to them personally, as well as your kind words sent through me, in recognition of their slight token of high regard for you. While here a day or two ago, Mrs. Canfield requested me to convey these sentiments to you.

Now, Miss Barton, why you have confided in obscure me is a mystery I cannot solve; such a compliment is more than I can hope to deserve. (Having written the above General W. R. Shafter came into the Library and sat beside me at the table. I stopped writing and we entered into a discussion of you and your affairs. He is exceedingly complimentary to you and of yourwork. He especially requested me to extend to you his greetings and sincerest good wishes.)

I have known for several years more of the secret plottings than you think. From our mutual friends I have known also of your heart aches and the causes, and a thousand times have wished that I might say something, or do something, so that you might know that in my inmost heart I was in sympathy with you and your struggle against the coterie of schemers. I have also wished that I might have power long enough to show you in what esteem you are held by the households in America; what a charm attaches to your name wherever spoken,—such as neither royalty possesses nor money buys.

Your defamers no more represent the American people than pirates upon the high seas the country from which they spring.

The unanimous vote of confidence, last week by the Woman’s Club of Bakersfield enthusiastically expressed by all present rising to their feet, was but one manifestation among tens of thousands of similar ones which would occur if the facts were known. I hope you will soon hear of similar evidence of love for you and fidelity of your friends from organizations elsewhere in California, including the State Federation of Women soon to convene in Sacramento.

My Uncle, General Ross, never told me of any event in his military career with so much pride as that of offering you his services, and acting as your lieutenant in the ware-house of the Red Cross at Havana. Likewise would I be proud of the distinction to serve you in the most humble capacity, either for the cause you represent or for yourself personally.

While I do not, and can not, take seriously even the remotest suggestion that you might seek retirement and seclusion, I would gladly volunteer to be your Kit Carson over any mountain trail leading to happiness. I don’t think the American people will ever permit your forced retirement, but in the event you should voluntarily withdraw from public service, I would indeed be glad to suggest to some of my friends, who I am sure would esteem it an honor and privilege, to offer you a home in Los Angeles and a competence the rest of your life.

I expect to be in the East again soon and hope to have the honor of seeing you. I have in mind several things I would like to talk over with you, and thank you kindly for the invitation to call at your home in Glen Echo.

If in my humble way I can be of any service to you, you will please remember that you have but to command me.

Believe me,

Sincerely your friend,(Signed)C. S. Young.

Sincerely your friend,

(Signed)C. S. Young.

ToMiss Clara Barton,Glen Echo, Maryland.

Miss Clara Barton,

Glen Echo, Maryland.

Whispering tongues can poison truth.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

The paths of charity are over roadways of ashes; and he who would travel them must be prepared to meet opposition, misconstruction, jealousy, and calumny.Clara Barton.

And when they had crucified him, they parted his garments, casting lots upon them what every man should take.St. Mark.

SHE READ THE ACTORS LIKE A BOOK

EXECUTIVE OFFICE6 Beacon Street,Boston, Mass.

EXECUTIVE OFFICE

6 Beacon Street,

Boston, Mass.

July 11th, 1907.

Mr. C. S. Young,Los Angeles, California.My dear Mr. Young:

Mr. C. S. Young,Los Angeles, California.

Mr. C. S. Young,

Los Angeles, California.

My dear Mr. Young:

I wonder if I have ever said a word in reply to your comforting letter of May. If I have or have not said anything on paper I have in my heart answered it many times and bless both you and Mrs. Logan for your kindliness and trust. I have never in my life had a moment’s doubt of the loyalty of Mrs. Logan. She stood the brunt of the battle while she could, and longer than I wished her to. She foresaw what was coming with her keen knowledge of human nature and thorough political training. She read the actors like a book. I well remember one night when she made this remark, and it was comparatively early in the game. Looking earnestly at me she said, calling me by name, “At first I called this prosecution, then I called it persecution, but now I name it crucifixion, and that is what they mean.” I knew it too but there was no redress, no course but to wait the resurrection if it came.

The trust even of one’s best friends, under the circumstances, and knowing nothing of the facts could not be expected to withstand it. That it was physically withstood was beyond either the expectation or the intention. But, my good friend, that is all passed. The press no longer turns its arrows upon me. The harvestwas not what the reapers expected, and I suspect if it were all to be done over again in the light of their newly gained experience it would not be done.

I would like to tell you some day of the newer work that occupies, and will take pleasure in sending you a report issued at our second annual meeting when it leaves the press. I am writing from Boston, where I am spending a few days at our headquarters, but return soon to Glen Echo, where I hope to see you whenever circumstances call you to the East.

Again thanking you most warmly for your letter, which brought me much satisfaction, and wishing the best of all good things for you I am, dear Mr. Young,

Most cordially yours,(Signed)Clara Barton.

Most cordially yours,

(Signed)Clara Barton.

And Marie of Logan; she went with them too,A bride, scarcely more than a sweetheart, ’tis true,Her young cheek grows pale when bold troopers rideWhere the “Black Eagle” soars she is close at his side.Clara Barton.

And Marie of Logan; she went with them too,

A bride, scarcely more than a sweetheart, ’tis true,

Her young cheek grows pale when bold troopers ride

Where the “Black Eagle” soars she is close at his side.

Clara Barton.

The name of Clara Barton will forever shine among women who won deathless fame in the days of war that called for loyal effort.

Phebe A. Hanaford, Author.

For patriotism, for national honor, I would stand by that at all cost.Clara Barton.

If my life could have purchased the life of the patriot martyrs who fell for their country and mine, how cheerfully and quickly would the exchange have been made.Clara Barton.

What king so strong,Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?Shakespeare.

What king so strong,

Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?

Shakespeare.

The following are excerpts from letters written to the author:

In April, 1909, she writes as follows:

“Does ‘Mexico’ recall to your mind a request I once made of you that you should see me across the border line of that strange country? However much I needed it and whether well or ill I never knew. I only know I did not go. But my own country seemed to me so hard that I thought I could not live it through.

“The Government which I thought I loved and loyally tried to serve has shut every door in my face and stared at me insultingly through its windows. What wonder I want to leave?

“The locks have never turned, the doors are rusted in their hinges. The old warders go out and the new ones come in, sworn faithfully to their charge, with no knowledge of why they are charged to do it; ignorant of every fact, simply enemies by transmission; and yet I stay represented as of ‘doubtful integrity,’ ‘weak,’ ‘decrepit,’ ‘imbecile,’ but yet, very ‘dangerous.’”

She then draws a picture of a Sultan of Turkey who was made a prisoner.

“He was locked in and I locked out, but my whole country seemed my prison and I struggled to free myselfof it. Pardon me, I never thought to recall the disagreeable subject again, but like the boy’s whistle it ‘blew itself.’”

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak.Ecclesiastes.

I am reminded of what Theodore Parker used to say so piteously of himself—‘I can never talk but I talk too much.’

Clara Barton.

The following is an excerpt from a letter under date of Nov. 9, 1909:

“There has never been an occasion, nor a time, when I have so missed my old time privilege of speaking in behalf of a friend. I never before have so fully realized what a pleasure that privilege had been to me through half a century. It is a change to me, to come to feel that my only help must lie in thestrictestsilence; an expressed wish for any one would be fatal; not perhaps with President Taftpersonally, for I am of small importance to him, if he even knows me, but from the advice he would be sure to receive from those he does know. So I wait and hope....”

Excerpts from letter written under date of Dec. 14, 1909:

May 31st, the date runs, and I know I never answered that letter, for I never in my life could haveanswered a letter like that, but still more, I never even tried to. Discouraged at the onset and gave up the encounter. A glimpse at the topics it handled were so far beyond any reply from the “likes o’ me.” “Great services unnoticed”—“Future remembrances when others are forgotten”—“To be told in story and sung in other lands”—poor little me who has never seen the present Ruler of her own country!

“Then let us hope, and although you may never escort me over the Mexican line, I have never lost sight of the darkness of the day when I proposed that you should.”

If it were not my firm belief in an overruling Providence.

A. Lincoln.

Excerpts from a letter under date of November 21, 1910:

“How well I remember when I once asked you to escort me over! and I never can understandwhyI failed to go; a Greater Power and a Wiser Mind were guiding me, no doubt——”

To God my life was an open page,He knew what I would be;He knew how the tyrant passions rage,How wind swept was all my anchorage,And why I would drift to sea.

To God my life was an open page,

He knew what I would be;

He knew how the tyrant passions rage,

How wind swept was all my anchorage,

And why I would drift to sea.

He who hath a thousand friends hath none to spare.

Ali Ben Abou Taleb.

I am never weary when meeting my friends.Clara Barton.

Clara Barton’s intellect was never keener, clearer nor more alert than it is now (1911).Stephen E. Barton.

The report which went out that I was ill set the country, nay the world, by the ears and the letters came pouring in by the score, yes, and more.Clara Barton.

Such beautiful letters! I have read them through tears.

Clara Barton.

Oxford, Sept. 21, 1911.Prof. Young,

Oxford, Sept. 21, 1911.

Prof. Young,

My Dear friend:

I am trying to speak to your letter of yesterday, myself, but it is from a very sick bed.

I write none—see only those I must.

Imust see you. Come and see me though only a week. I had hoped to see you under better conditions.

I replied to your dispatch. Come when you will; all times are alike to me.

Yours sincerely and always,(Signed)Clara Barton.

Yours sincerely and always,

(Signed)Clara Barton.

12. Her friends who were with her through her last illness say the letter of which the above is a copy is the last letter written by Clara Barton.

I did not err: there does a sable cloudTurn forth her silver lining on the night.Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt,Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled;Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harmShall in the happy trial prove most glory

I did not err: there does a sable cloudTurn forth her silver lining on the night.

I did not err: there does a sable cloud

Turn forth her silver lining on the night.

Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt,Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled;Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harmShall in the happy trial prove most glory

Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt,

Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled;

Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm

Shall in the happy trial prove most glory

Of this number 560 were killed or wounded in battle. The regiment was a member of the ninth-army Corps under General Burnside, a corps that did not lose a color nor a gun.

Membership of the Twenty-first Massachusetts Regiment Association August 23, 1921–61.

Carrie E. Cutter, Daughter, 1861–1862.Clara Barton, Daughter, 1862–1912.Flora S. Chapin, Secretary and Daughter, 1912——.

Carrie E. Cutter, Daughter, 1861–1862.

Clara Barton, Daughter, 1862–1912.

Flora S. Chapin, Secretary and Daughter, 1912——.

Miss Carrie E. Cutter, delicate and accomplished, was known as the Florence Nightingale of the Twenty-first. She was the daughter of Calvin E. Cutter, surgeon of the regiment; died in the service as nurse, March 24, 1862. Aged, nineteen years and eight months. Mrs. Flora S. Chapin is the daughter of Reverend Charles E. Simmons Hospital Steward in the Civil War, under Surgeons Calvin E. Cutter and James Oliver, of the Twenty-first Massachusetts Regiment. Clara Barton was the daughter of non-commissioned officer Stephen Barton. He enlisted in 1793, serving three years in the Indian wars (1793–97), and later was known by his friends as “Captain Barton.”

Clara Barton, then a war nurse and nearly forty-one years of age, was made Daughter of the Regiment on the battlefield of Antietam, in October, 1862. This was a few days after President Lincoln had reviewed the Army of the Potomac, the review occurring October third. The army at that time numbered about 145,000 men. It was towards nightfall, and the regiment was on dress parade. “She made a little speech,” says Comrade James Madison Stone, “and there was cemented a friendship begun under fire which was destined to last to the end of the lives of all the participants.”

Says Captain Charles F. Walcott of the Twenty-first Regiment (afterward Brigadier-General), and the author of the history of the regiment: “Our true friend, Miss Barton, a Twenty-first woman to the backbone, was now permanently associated with the regiment and, with two four-mule covered wagons which by her untiring efforts she kept well supplied with delicacies in the way of food and articles of clothing, was a ministering angel to our sick. General Sturgis kindly ordered a detail from the regiment of drivers and assistants about her wagon. And this true, noble woman, never sparing herself nor failing in her devotion to our suffering men, always maintained her womanly dignity, and won the lasting respect and love of our officers and men.”

Clara Barton’s last message to the regiment was delivered forty-five years after the Civil War, through an address and original poem, she then being eighty-nine years of age. The occasion was the annual reunion of the regiment, the date August 23, 1910; the reunion held at Worcester, Massachusetts.

REUNION OF 21ST MASSACHUSETTS REGIMENT

Picture taken on the occasion of the annual reunion of the Twenty-first Massachusetts Regiment Association—on August 23, 1921—Sixtieth anniversary of the day the Regiment left Worcester for the field.

On Fame’s eternal camping-groundTheir silent tents are spread;And Glory guards, with solemn round,The bivouac of the dead.Theodore O’Hara.

On Fame’s eternal camping-ground

Their silent tents are spread;

And Glory guards, with solemn round,

The bivouac of the dead.

Theodore O’Hara.

I hear the loved survivors tellHow naught from death could save,’Til every sound appears a knellAnd every spot a grave.Abraham Lincoln.

I hear the loved survivors tell

How naught from death could save,

’Til every sound appears a knell

And every spot a grave.

Abraham Lincoln.

“I never made a secret of the fact that of all the glorious regiments that marched to the music of the Union and cooled their heated brows in the shadows of the Stars and Stripes, the Twenty-first Massachusetts was peculiarly my own—nearest in my thoughts, and deepest in my love, and there are many who know that more than once my heart went down in agony under the blood-stained soil with the lifeless forms of its bravest and its best. I would divide the last half of the last loaf with any soldier in that regiment, though I had never met him.”—Clara Barton.

But evil on itself shall back recoil,And mix no more with goodness when, at last,Gathered like scum, and settled to itself,It shall be an eternal restless change,Self-fed and self-consumed. If this failThe pillared firmament is rottenness,And earth’s base built on stubble.

But evil on itself shall back recoil,

And mix no more with goodness when, at last,

Gathered like scum, and settled to itself,

It shall be an eternal restless change,

Self-fed and self-consumed. If this fail

The pillared firmament is rottenness,

And earth’s base built on stubble.

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