A STORY OF THE RED CROSS

[Illustration: CLARA BARTON

From a photograph taken in St. Petersburg in July, 1902, showing thedecorations conferred upon her by the Czar and the Empress Dowager]

A STORY OF THE RED CROSS

GLIMPSES OF FIELD WORK

BY

CLARA BARTON

FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NATIONAL RED CROSS AND PRESIDENT, 1881-1904

[Illustration: Logo]

NEW YORKD. APPLETON AND COMPANYMCMIV

COPYRIGHT, 1904, BYD. APPLETON AND COMPANY

_Published, June, 1904_

PREFACE

Since the foundation of the Red Cross in America, many direfulcalamities have afflicted the country. In each of these visitations theRed Cross has acted in some degree as the Almoner--the distributer andorganizer--of the bountiful measures of relief that have been poured outby the American people. 

Its work has been accomplished quietly and without ostentation. All therelief has been administered--not as charity--but as God-sent succor toour brothers and sisters who have been overwhelmed by some mightyconvulsion of the forces of nature. 

The wreckage has been cleared away, the stricken people have beenwisely, tenderly, and calmly guided out of panic and despair on to theroad of self-help and cooperative effort to restore their shatteredhomes and broken fortunes; and then the Red Cross has retired as quietlyas it came, and few, outside of the people immediately concerned, haverealized the beneficent powers of help and healing that have fallen likea benediction upon the stricken wherever that sacred symbol of humanityhas made its way. 

It is my thought that a brief account of the work of the Red Crossduring the past twenty-five years will be of interest to the Americanpeople. In a volume of this size it must of necessity be but a briefoutline, sufficient, however, to convey a clear impression of what theRed Cross really means to every individual in this great country ofours. 

To the thousands of American men and women whose generous bounty hasmade the work of the Red Cross possible, to the stricken and distressedwho because of it have been helped back to life and hope, and to all thefriends of the great, universal humanity which it typifies, this smallbook is lovingly dedicated. 

CLARA BARTON. 

GLEN ECHO, MARYLAND, _May 15, 1904. _

CONTENTS

I PAGEEARLY HISTORY. 1880-1884 1

II

THE TEXAS FAMINE AND THE MOUNT VERNON CYCLONE. 1885-1888 30

III

YELLOW FEVER IN FLORIDA. 1887 38

IV

THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 1889 54

V

THE RUSSIAN FAMINE. 1891 70

VI

THE SEA ISLAND RELIEF. 1893 77

VII

ARMENIAN RELIEF. 1896 94

VIII

CUBA. 1898 115

IX

GALVESTON. 1900 164

A STORY OF THE RED CROSS

I

EARLY HISTORY

1880-1884

 "I have lived much that I have not written, but I have written nothing that I have not lived. "

It was a little blue-eyed girl of ten who sat on a low hassock at myfeet, slowly drawing the soft auburn curls between her fingers, when, suddenly lifting her head and looking me earnestly in the face, sheexclaimed: "What is the Red Cross? Please tell me about it; I can notunderstand it. "

There was a pleading earnestness in the tone not to be resisted, andlaying down my pen I commenced to explain to her the principles, history, and uses of the Red Cross. She listened anxiously, the prettybrow knitted; she seemed more and more perplexed, until, as if a lighthad broken over her, she exclaimed, half impatiently:

"Not that--not that, tell me something it _does_--it and you, I canunderstand it better then. "

A light had broken over me. It was a story the child wanted toillustrate the principle and bring it home to her. A story she musthave. 

In a half hour she felt that she knew it all and was an ardent devoteeeven of its principles. But she had given me more than I had given her. Here was food for thought. 

For twenty-five years I had labored to explain the principles and usesof the Red Cross; had written enough for a modest library of what it wasand what it meant, but, lest I seem egotistical, not a page of what itdid. The child had given me an idea that I would for once put intopractice, and write a few pages of what the Red Cross had done, leavingprinciples to present themselves. 

I will commence even back of itself. 

Forty years ago, before most of you were born, a great war had beenfought in America, in which thousands died from battle and hardship, andthousands more still left alive were worn out in the untried andunsystematized efforts at relief that had been made through nearly fiveyears of continuous war. Of these latter, many were women who draggedout weary lives in their own homes, some went to hospitals and retreatsfor rest and care, and some were sent abroad. One of these latter I knewpersonally, for, as Patrick would say, "It was me-self. "

To me it seemed a hard sentence that our physicians imposed. I had grownto love the country we had so toiled for, and did not want to leave it. Its very woes had made it dear to me. It had quiet once more, and apeace that was not all a peace. It had its early soldier homes, itsfast-filling cemeteries, and the tender memory of a martyred Presidentresting over us like a pall. These had come to seem like a heritage tome, and in my weakness I clung to them. Still, the order was obeyed andI went. 

Then followed travels in strange and foreign lands, other wars, illnessand suffering of my own, until eleven years later I came almost astranger again to our Government with another work, which I believed tobe for its good and the good of our people. 

This time I brought the idea of the treaty of Geneva, asking ourGovernment, at the request of other Governments, to examine and to unitewith it, if found desirable. This effort with the Government covers fiveyears of hard, continuous labor, during which was sought the aid offriends known in other years. At the end of this time, by advice of oursecond martyred President and three members of his historiccabinet--James G. Blaine, William Windom, and Robert T. Lincoln--anational society was formed, known as the Association of the AmericanRed Cross, and, by desire and nomination of President Garfield, I wasmade its president, and requested to name my officers. 

The association was formed during the winter of 1880-'81, with the viewon the part of President Garfield of facilitating the adoption of thetreaty which he would name in his next message, which message was neverwritten. 

Before the message, he, too, had joined the martyred ranks, and hisgentle successor, Arthur, filled his chair and kept his promise, andthrough action of his own executive department the treaty was adopted;indorsed by action of the Senate; proclaimed by the President to ourpeople; later ratified by the International Powers in the Congress ofBerne, with the pledge to render relief to unfortunate victims of war, and the privilege, by my request, of rendering similar relief to thevictims of great national calamities or disasters. 

All this had been accomplished by the kindly help of a few personalfriends, tireless and unrewarded, and while the news of the accession ofthe Government of the United States, to the treaty of Geneva, litbonfires that night (for I cabled it by their request) in the streets ofSwitzerland, France, Germany, and Spain, a little four-line paragraph inthe congressional doings of the day in the _Evening Star_, ofWashington, alone announced to the people of America that aninternational treaty had been added to their rolls. 

No personal distinction had been bestowed, no one honored, no onepolitically advanced, no money of the Government expended, and, likeother things of like nature and history, it was left in obscurity tomake its own way and live its own hard life. 

Thus the spring of 1882 found us--a few people, tired and weak, withfive years of costly service, a treaty gained, with no fund, no war norprospect of any, and no helpful connection with or acknowledgment by theGovernment. 

Soon the news of "Half the State of Michigan on Fire" called us toaction on our own laws of civil relief. A little draft on the purse ofthe new, inexperienced president of the association paved the way for anagent to go to the field. Others generously joined, all reported to ourfriend and advocate, Senator Omar D. Conger, of Michigan. Some supplieswere sent, a society or two formed to provide and forward them. Theagents remained until the suffering was relieved, and thus the firstfield relief work of which we have any record in the United States wascommenced. 

Meanwhile, I had been asked by the Senate to write the history of theRed Cross, and show the official action taken by our Government on theacceptance of the treaty, which history the Senate would have printed atthe Government printing-office. This volume I prepared as requested. Athousand copies were printed for information to the public, to becirculated by the society; but with no frank or other means provided, and with a postage of some ten cents a volume, we were compelled tolimit the circulation to the means. 

The following year, 1883, a disastrous rise in the Ohio River called forour aid. Dr. J. B. Hubbell, who had been our agent the year before, wascalled from Michigan University, where he was completing a course, toexamine the needs of the inhabitants and take such relief as we couldprovide. There was little loss of life, and the destruction of propertylay largely in the loss of stock, and washing away of the soil, vegetation, and the means of reproduction. 

A remarkable provision for this latter loss was made by the gift of Mr. Hiram Sibley, the noted seed dealer of Rochester--who had becomeassociated with the Red Cross, being an old-time friend of the family ofits president--of ten thousand dollars' worth of seed, to replant thewashed-out lands adown the Mississippi. As the waters ran off the mudimmediately baked in the sunshine, making planting impossible after afew days. Accordingly, Mr. Sibley's gift was sent with all haste to ouragent at Memphis, and in forty-eight hours, by train and boat, it wasdistributed in the four States--Tennessee, Arkansas, Louisiana, andMississippi--and planted for the crops of the coming season. 

Besides this generous gift of material, a little money had been raisedand sent by the three societies of the Red Cross which had been formed, viz. : Dansville and Syracuse, a few hundreds--something more from theRed Cross at Rochester--always thoughtful and generous, which served tohelp in the distribution of clothing and supplies promiscuously sent. And at the finish of the work, when every donation had been carefullyacknowledged, one thousand dollars and some cents were left in thetreasury unexpended. 

A cyclone occurring within a few months in Louisiana and southernAlabama, cutting a swath from New Orleans to Mobile, decided us to sendeight hundred dollars of this reserve to the secretary of the Red CrossSociety of New Orleans, which sum was forwarded by our vice-president, Mr. A. S. Solomons. This left a sum of two hundred dollars and somecents in the treasury with which to commence another field. 

This was the commencement of 1883. In May, at the solicitation ofGeneral Butler, then Governor of Massachusetts, I took thesuperintendence of the Massachusetts Woman's State Prison at Sherborn, at the customary salary of fifteen hundred dollars a year. To this dutythe Legislature added, after my arrival, those of secretary andtreasurer, without increase of salary, discharging the former incumbent, a man, at three thousand dollars a year. I accepted the new duties, became my own bondsman for ten thousand dollars, by transfer of thatamount of bonds from my bankers, Brown Brothers, New York, to theMassachusetts State Treasury at Boston--remaining in charge of theprison until the close of the year, and the retirement of General Butleras Governor. 

In the short and interrupted existence of our association--scarce twoyears--our few official advisers had formed some general regulations, relating to our course of procedure. Realizing that to be of any realservice as a body of relief for sudden disasters, we must not only beindependent of the slow, ordinary methods of soliciting relief, but inits means of application as well, it was decided:

_First. _ To never solicit relief or ask for contributions. 

_Second. _ Not to pay salaries to officers--paying out money only tothose whom we must employ for manual labor--and as our officers servedwithout compensation they should not be taxed for dues. 

_Third. _ To keep ourselves always in possession of a stated sum of moneyto commence a field of disaster--this sum to be independent even of theclosed doors of a bank which might prevent leaving for a field on aSunday or holiday. 

_Fourth. _ To take this sum of our own, going directly to a field withsuch help as needed, giving no notice until there, overlooking thefield, and learning the extent of the trouble and conditions of thepeople, making immediate and reliable report to the country through theAssociated Press, some of whose officers were our own Red Cross officersas well. These reports would be truthful, unexaggerated, andnon-sensational statements that could be relied upon. 

_Fifth. _ That if, under these conditions, the people chose to make useof us as distributers of the relief which they desired to contribute tothe sufferers, we would do our best to serve them while at thefield--make report directly to each and all contributors, so far as inour power, and proceed to carry out any directions and apply the reliefat hand, in the wisest manner possible, among a dazed and afflictedcommunity. 

To inaugurate this method, I, as president, placed a sum of threethousand dollars, free of bank or interest, upon momentary call, at theservice of the association. On more than one occasion it has been takenon Sunday, when every bank in the country was closed and charitablebodies were at their prayers. Even the relief of Johnstown was thuscommenced. This provision has never for a day been broken. It is as goodat this moment as it was in 1883, and from the same source. It may nothave been a "business-like" method nor one to be approved by statedboards of directors nor squared by bank regulations. But the foes we hadto meet were not thus regulated, and had to be met as they came; and sothey always must be if any good is to be accomplished. 

Until the Government and society can control the elements, and regulatea spring freshet, a whirlwind or a cyclone, they will find that redtape is not strong enough to hold their ravages in check. 

It was well that these regulations had been formulated and theirprovisions acted upon, as the state of our treasury and the conditionsimmediately following will show. 

I returned to Washington upon my retirement from the superintendence ofthe State Prison at Sherborn, accompanied by Dr. Hubbell, who, havingcompleted his university course, had come to the Red Cross for permanentservice. Before we had even time to unpack our trunks, the news of thefearful rise of the Ohio River, of 1884, began to shock the country withits loss of life and property. 

I had never been present at a disaster in civil life. It had neveroccurred to me that they recurred so frequently. But if by virtue of myoffice as president I was liable to be called every year to preside overand provide for them, it was essential that I learn my dutiesexperimentally. I accordingly joined Dr. Hubbell, who had been appointedgeneral field agent, and proceeded to Pittsburg, the headwaters of therise. 

Telegraphing from there to our agents of the Associated Press, weproceeded to Cincinnati, to find the city afloat. Its inhabitants werebeing fed from boats, through the second-story windows. These conditionswere telegraphed. Supplies commenced to flow in, not only from our ownsocieties but from the people of the country. Warehouses were filled, inspite of all we dispensed--but there were four hundred miles of thisdistress--even to Cairo, where the Ohio, sometimes thirty miles inwidth, discharged its swollen waters into the Mississippi. 

Recognizing this condition lower down the river as the greater need, wetransferred our supplies and distribution to Evansville, Ind. Scarcelyhad we reached there when a cyclone struck the river below, andtraveling up its entire length, leveled every standing object upon itsbanks, swept the houses along like cockle-shells, uprooted the greatesttrees and whirled them down its mighty current--catching here and thereits human victims, or leaving them with life only, houseless, homeless, wringing their hands on a frozen, fireless shore--with every coal-pitfilled with water, and death from freezing more imminent than fromhunger. 

There were four hundred miles more of this, and no way of reaching themby land. With all our tons of clothing, these people and their homelesslittle children were freezing. There was but one way--the Governmentboats had come with rations of food--we too must take to the water. 

At eight o'clock in the morning I chartered my first boat, with captainand crew, at sixty dollars per day, to be at once laden to the water'sedge with coal--our own supplies to be stored on the upper deck--and atfour o'clock in the afternoon, as the murky sun was hiding its cloudedface, the bell of the "John V. Troop, " in charge of her owner, announcedthe departure of the first Red Cross relief-boat ever seen on Americanwaters. 

I found myself that night with a stanch crew of thirty men and a skilledcaptain, and a boat under my command. I had never until then held such acommand. We wove the river diagonally from side to side--from village tovillage--where the homeless, shivering people were gathered--called forthe most responsible person--a clergyman if one could be found, threwoff boxes of clothing, and hove off coal for a two weeks' supply, andsteamed away to the opposite side, leaving only gratitude, wonder at whowe were, where we came from, and what that strange flag meant? Weimproved every opportunity to replenish our supply of coal, and reachedCairo in five days. 

Waiting only to reload, we returned up the river, resupplied the revivedvillages of people, too grateful for words, reaching Evansville at theend of three weeks, where more supplies than we had taken awaited us. St. Louis and Chicago had caught the fever of relief, had arrangedsocieties, and had asked permission to join our aid. Up to this time theMississippi had given no indication of trouble, but now its great Junerise commenced. 

The Government boats, by another appropriation, were sent to theMississippi, and we prepared to supplement them. Discharging our OhioRiver boat we went to St. Louis by rail and chartered the "Mattie Bell. "The Red Cross Societies of St. Louis and Chicago, under their respectivepresidents and officers in charge of them and their funds, joined us, and together we prepared to feed and rescue the perishing stock--aswell as people adown the Mississippi. The animals had never been savedin an overflow; and besides the cruelty of letting them starve bythousands, the loss to the people was irreparable, as the following yearmust inevitably be replete with idleness and poverty till more stockcould be obtained to work with. 

We found as commissary at St. Louis, General Beckwith, the historiccommissary-general of the old civil war, who had personallysuperintended the loading of my wagons in Washington, year after year, for the battle-fields of Virginia. He came on board the "Mattie Bell"and personally superintended the lading--clothing, corn, oats, salt, andhay--besides putting upon the Government boats large quantities ofsupplies which we could not take on at first, and giving us hisblessing, watched us steam out on our joint mission; they putting offrations of meat and meal--we supplementing with clothing for the peopleand feed for the stock. We purchased all we could at cities as wepassed, picked our course among the broken levees and roaring crevasses, all the way to New Orleans. The hungry were fed, the naked clothed, andthe stock saved. The negro had his mule, and the planter his horses andcattle to carry on his work when the flood should disappear. We hadlighter boats, still lighter purses, but lightest of all were thegrateful hearts that a kind Providence and a generous people had givento us the privilege of serving. 

We discharged the "Mattie Bell" at St. Louis, bidding adieu to theofficers of the Red Cross Society, who had rendered most acceptableservice to the cause. They had brought their own funds and material--hadpersonally administered them from the decks of the "Mattie Bell, " madetheir own reports, and modestly retired to their home duties, there toawait the next call. 

Chicago, which had a new Red Cross Society, formed almost for theoccasion, through its most worthy and notable representative, Rev. E. I. Galvin, did the same, performing the long journey with us, superintending the distribution of his own relief and making his ownreport with such convincing power, that societies of no less excellencethan the Lend-a-Hand were its outgrowth. 

I am thus particular to mention this from the loving gratitudefervently cherished for strong, tender help in the day of small things. Their contributions largely served to run our boat and keep our crew, and with heads, hearts, and hands we struggled as one, to avert thedestruction so rife around us. 

From St. Louis we crossed over to Evansville, rechartered the "John V. Troop, " and put on accumulated supplies. The waters of the Ohio hadsubsided and the people were returning to the old spots of earth thatonce had been their home, but there was neither house to live in nortool to work the land with. We reloaded with pine lumber, ready-madedoors, windows, household utensils, stores and groceries, farmingutensils, and with a good force of carpenters proceeded up the Ohio oncemore. The sight of the disconsolate, half-clad farmer waiting on thebank told us where his home had been--and was not. 

Three hours' work of our carpenters would put up a one-room house, meanwhile our efficient men and women helpers, among them the bestladies of Evansville, would furnish it with beds, bedding, clothing, provisions for the family, and farming tools ready to go on with theseason's work. 

Picture, if possible, this scene. A strange ship with a strange flagsteaming up the river. It halts, turns from its course, and draws up tothe nearest landing. Some persons disembark and speak a few minutes withthe family. Then, a half dozen strong mechanics man a small boat ladenwith all material for constructing a one-room house--floor, roof, doors, windows. The boat returns for furniture. Within three hours the strangeship sails away, leaving a bewildered family in a new and clean housewith bed, bedding, clothing, table, chairs, dishes, candles, a littlecooking-stove with a blazing fire, all the common quota of cookingutensils, and meat, meal, and groceries; a plow, rake, axe, hoe, shovel, spade, hammer, and nails. We ask few questions. They ask none. Thewhistle of the "Troop" is as welcome to their ears as the flag to theireyes. 

At one of these wrecked villages the entire little hamlet of peoplestood on our decks. Only four, they said, were left at home, and thesewere sick. They had selected their lawyer to speak their thanks. Nowords will ever do justice to the volume of native eloquence whichseemed to roll unbidden from his lips. He finished with these sentences:

"At noon on that day we were in the blackness of despair--the wholevillage in the power of the demon of waters--hemmed in by sleet and ice, without fire enough to cook its little food. When the bell struck ninethat night, there were seventy-five families on their knees before theirblazing grates, thanking God for fire and light, and praying blessingson the phantom ship with the unknown device that had come as silently asthe snow, they knew not whence, and gone, they knew not whither. "

When we finished the voyage of relief, we had covered the Ohio Riverfrom Cincinnati to Cairo and back twice, and the Mississippi from St. Louis to New Orleans, and return--four months on the rivers--traveledover eight thousand miles, distributed in relief of money and estimatedmaterial, one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars--gathered as weused it. 

We left at one point on the Ohio River a well-lettered cross-board, "Little Six Red Cross Landing"--probably there to this day. The story ofThe Little Six might be given in their own little letter:

WATERFORD, PA. , _March_ 24, 1884. 

DEAR MISS BARTON:

We read your nice letter in the Dispatch and we would like very much tosee that house called "The Little Six, " and we little six are so gladthat we helped six other little children, and we thank you for going toso much trouble in putting our money just where we would have put itourselves. Some time again when you want money to help you in your goodwork call on "The Little Six. "

JOE FARRAR, twelve years old. FLORENCE HOWE, eleven years old. MARY BARTON, eleven years old. REED WHITE, eleven years old. BERTIE AINSWORTH, ten years old. LOYD BARTON, seven years old. 

These children had given a public entertainment for the benefit of theflood sufferers. They themselves suggested it, planned and carried itout, and raised fifty-one dollars and twenty-five cents, which theysent to the editor of the Eric Dispatch, asking him to send it "where itwould do the most good. " The Dispatch forwarded it to the president ofthe Red Cross, with an account of the entertainment given by "The LittleSix. "

The entire matter was too beautiful and withal unique, to meet only acommon fate in its results. I could not, for a moment, think to minglethe gift of the little dramatists with the common fund for generaldistribution, and sought through all these weeks for a fittingdisposition to make of it, where it would all go in some special mannerto relieve some special necessity. I wanted it to benefit some childrenwho had "wept on the banks" of the river, which in its madness haddevoured their home. 

As we neared that picturesque spot on the Illinois side of the Ohio, known as "Cave-in Rock, " we were hailed by a woman and her youngdaughter. The boat "rounded to" and made the landing and they came onboard--a tall, thin, worn woman in tattered clothes, with a good butinexpressibly sad face, who wished to tell us that a package which wehad left for her at the town on our way down had never reached her. Shewas a widow--Mrs. Plew--whose husband, a good river pilot, had died fromoverwork on a hard trip to New Orleans in the floods of the Mississippitwo years before, leaving her with six children dependent upon her, theeldest a lad in his "teens, " the youngest a little baby girl. They ownedtheir home, just on the brink of the river, a little "farm" of two orthree acres, two horses, three cows, thirty hogs, and a half hundredfowls, and in spite of the bereavement, they had gone on bravely, winning the esteem and commendation of all who knew them for thrift andhonest endeavor. Last year the floods came heavily upon them, drivingthem from their home, and the two horses were lost. Next the choleracame among the hogs and all but three died. Still they worked on; andheld the home. This spring came the third flood. The water climbed upthe bank, crept in at the door, and filled the lower story of the house. They had nowhere to remove their household goods, and stored them in thegarret carefully packed, and went out to find a shelter in an old loghouse near by, used for a corn-crib. Day by day they watched the house, hailed passing boats for news of the rise and fall of the water above, always trusting the house would stand--"and it would, " the mother said, "for it was a good, strong house, but for the storm. " The winds came, and the terrible gale that swept the valley like a tornado, with thewater at its height, leveling whole towns, descended and beat upon thathouse, and it fell. In the morning there was no house there, and thewaves in their fury rushed madly on. Then these little children "stoodand wept on the banks of the river, " and the desolation and fear in thecareful mother's heart, none but herself and her God can know. 

They lived on in the corn-crib, and it was from it they came to hail usas we passed to-day. Something had been told us of them on our downwardtrip, and a package had been left them at "Cave-in Rock, " which they hadnot received. We went over shoe-tops in mud to their rude home, to findit one room of logs, an old stone chimney, with a cheerful fire ofdrift-wood and a _clean_ hearth, two wrecks of beds, a table, and twochairs which some kind neighbor had loaned. The Government boats hadleft them rations. There was an air of thrift, even in their desolation, a plank walk was laid about the door, the floor was cleanly swept, andthe twenty-five surviving hens, for an equal number were lost in thestorm, clucked and craiked comfortably about the door, and there weretwo-and-a-half dozen fresh eggs to sell us at a higher rate than paid intown. We stood, as we had done so many scores of times during the lastfew weeks, and looked this pitiful scene in the face. There weremisfortune, poverty, sorrow, want, loneliness, dread of the future, butfortitude, courage, integrity, and honest thrift. 

"Would she like to return to the childhood home in Indiana?" we askedthe mother, for we would help them go. 

"No, " she said tenderly. "My husband lived and died here. He is buriedhere, and I would not like to go away and leave him alone. It won't bevery long, and it is a comfort to the children to be able to visit hisgrave. No, I reckon we will stay here, and out of the wreck of the oldhouse which sticks up out of the mud, we will put up another littlehut, higher up on the bank out of the way of the floods, and if it isonly a hut, it will be a home for us and we will get into it, and makeour crop this year. "

There were no dry eyes, but very still hearts, while we listened to thissorrowful but brave little speech, made with a voice full of tears. 

Our thoughtful field agent, Dr. Hubbell, was the first to speak. 

"Here are six children, " he said with an inquiring glance at me. 

No response was needed. The thing was done. We told the mother the storyof "The Little Six" of Waterford, and asked her if that money withenough more to make up one hundred dollars would help her to get up herhouse? It was _her_ turn to be speechless. At length with a struggling, choking voice she managed to say--"God knows how much it would be to me. Yes, with my good boys I can do it, and do it well. "

We put in her hands a check for this sum, and directed from the boatclean boxes of clothing and bedding, to help restore the household, whenthe house should have been completed. 

Before we left her, we asked if she would name her house when it shouldbe done? She thought a second, and caught the idea. 

"Yes, " she replied quickly, with a really winsome smile on that worn andweary face, "yes, I shall name it 'The Little Six. '"

We came to Pittsburg, discharged our empty boat, bade a heart-breakinggood-by to our veteran volunteers from Evansville, who had shared ourtoil and pain and who would return on the boat, we taking train oncemore for Washington. We had been four months on the rivers, among fogs, rain, damp, and malaria--run all manner of risks and dangers, but hadlost no life nor property, sunk no boat, and only that I was by thistime too weak to walk without help--all were well. 

Through the thoughtfulness of our new societies--St. Louis andChicago--we had been able to meet our share of the expenses, and to keepgood the little personal provision we started with, and were thus readyto commence another field when it should come. 

On arriving home I found that I was notified by the InternationalCommittee of Geneva, that the Fourth International Conference would beheld in that city in September, and I was requested to inform theUnited States Government, and ask it to send delegates. With the aid ofa borrowed arm, I made my way up the steps of the Department of State(that was before the luxury of elevators) and made my errand known toSecretary Frelinghuysen, who had heard of it and was ready with hisreply:

"Yes, Miss Barton, we will make the needful appointment of delegates tothe International Conference, and I appoint you as our delegate. "

"No, Mr. Frelinghuysen, " I said, "I can not go. I have just returnedfrom field work. I am tired and ill. Furthermore, I have not had time tomake a report of our work. "

"There is no one else who sufficiently understands the Red Cross, andthe provisions of the treaty, that our Government can send, and we cannot afford to make a mistake in the matter of delegates to this firstconference in which our Government shall participate, " answered theSecretary. "As to the report, have you not acknowledged thecontributions to all those who have sent?"

"Oh, yes; every dollar and every box of goods where the donor wasknown, " I replied. 

"Has any one complained?" he asked. 

"No; not a single person so far as is known. We have had only thanks. "

"Then to whom would you report?"

"To you, Mr. Secretary, or to such person or in such manner as you shalldesignate. "

"I don't want any report; no report is necessary, " answered theSecretary. "Our Government relief-boats have reported you officially, and all the country knows what you have done and is more than satisfied. Regarding your illness--you have had too much fresh water, Miss Barton, I recommend salt--and shall appoint you. "

This was done, and the appropriation for expenses was made, and at myrequest Judge Joseph Sheldon, and by invitation Mr. A. S. Solomon, ourvice-president, were also appointed to accompany me. The appropriationsufficed for all. 

The conference was held at Geneva, September 17, 1884, and thus was hadthe first official representation of the United States Government at anInternational Conference of the Treaty of Geneva. There have since beenfive. I have attended all but one. 

II

THE TEXAS FAMINE AND THE MT. VERNON CYCLONE

Before the close of the following year, 1885, came what was known as the"Texas Famine. " Thousands of miles of wild land, forming the Pan Handle, had been suddenly opened by the building of a Southern Railroad. In thespeculative anxiety of the Road to people its newly acquired territory, unwarranted inducements of climatic advantages had been unscrupulouslyheld out to the poor farmers of Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia. 

Lured by the pictures presented them, some thousands of families hadbeen induced to leave their old, worn-out farms, and with the littlethey could carry or drive, reach the new Eldorado, to find a new farmthat needed only the planting to make them rich, prosperous, and happy, without labor. They planted. The first year brought some returns--thesecond was a drought with no returns--the third the same. Hunger forthemselves and starvation for their stock stared them in the face. Theycould not pick up and go back--the rivers were dry from the Rio Grandeto the Brazos--the earth was iron, and the heavens brass; cattlewandered at will for water and feed, and their bones whitened theplains. 

These were poor little peoples. They tried to make the great State knowof their distress, but the rich railroad proprietors held the _press_, and no one knew their condition or could get correct information. Atlength a faithful clergyman came to Washington, to President Cleveland, and the Red Cross. 

We consulted with the President, who gave encouragement for us to go toTexas and learn the facts. 

In mid-winter, 1886, accompanied by Dr. Hubbell, the journey wasundertaken. We proceeded to Albany, Texas, made headquarters--traveledover the stricken counties, found wretchedness, hunger, thirst, cold, heart-breaking discouragement. The third year of drought was upon them, and the good people of that great State, misled by its press, its pressin turn misled by the speculators, innocently discredited every reportof distress, and amused themselves by little sly innuendoes and wittyjokes on the "Texas Famine. "

The condition was pitiful. To them it was hopeless. And yet not a dollaror a pound was needed outside of Texas. They only required to know thetruth. This then was our task. We ceased to journey over arid fields ofsuffering, and turned our steps resolutely to the editorial rooms of theDallas and Galveston News, at Dallas. Both editors were present; bothsat half-breathless while the flood of information rolled over them inno uncertain terms. 

I shall never forget the tears in the mild blue eyes of General Belo, ashe learned what he had done, and was still doing. Twelve hours broughtanother issue of the two papers. A column of editorial told the truesituation. A modest contribution of the Red Cross headed a subscriptionlist, General Belo following with his, and almost immediately thelegislature made an appropriation of one hundred thousand dollars forfood and supplies. 

The tender-hearted and conscience-smitten people sent their donations. Our task was done. We had seen and conquered. 

In the midst of a cold rain in February we reached Washington. A conciseand full report was made to President Cleveland, saying in conclusion:"I thank you with all my heart, Mr. President, for the encouragement atthe commencement, and for the privilege of writing you. We have donethis little bit of work faithfully and hope it may meet your approval. "

President Cleveland's letter of thanks still bears testimony of his carefor the people of the country, and his faith in its institutions. 

Not a dollar of outside help passed through our hands, but the littlepermanent provision was equal to the occasion and we had still a halfleft of our three thousand dollars. That was our first acquaintance withTexas. Galveston followed many years later with the same firm accord andgood results. The bonds of affection had grown deep and strong betweenthe great thousand-mile State and the little Red Cross that loved toserve her. 

In the following year, 1887, we were notified by the InternationalCommittee of Geneva of the conference to be held at Carlsruhe, byinvitation of the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Baden. We weredirected to inform the Department of State of this fact. We did so, andan appropriation was made by Congress to defray the expenses of threedelegates. 

It may be well to explain that in these appointments the Government doesnot place the appropriation in the hands of the appointees, but simplybecomes a guaranty. The appointee provides his own funds. If, afterreturn, vouchers can be shown that the sum guaranteed has been spentaccording to regulations, he is reimbursed in due course. 

Here was at least a contrast from a rough Mississippi River boat and thecrude homes of an unsettled Western State, to the royal carriage waitingto convey one to the apartments reserved in a palace, the elegance andculture of a court, the precision of a congress of representatives ofthe nations of the world. The questions of humanity discussed by them, the meeting of friends of other days, the regal bearing of the royalhost and hostess, the last parting from the dear old Emperor ofninety-two, and his tenderly spoken, "It is the last time, good-by"; theloving and last farewell of the beloved Empress Augusta, the patronsaint of the Red Cross; Bismarck and Moltke, in review, each with hisRed Cross insignia; the cordial hand grasp and the farewell neverrepeated--and all of this attention to and interest in a subject thatthe country I had gone to represent scarcely realized had an existencebeyond the receiving of some second-hand clothing, misfit shoes, and alittle money sent by some one to some place, where something bad hadhappened. 

No one dreamed that it meant anything more, or that it needed anythingafter this, and nothing more was done. 

It is only now, after almost two decades and within the last threemonths, that we commence to awaken and wonder, with a mingled nationaland personal sense of indignation, why our American Red Cross is not asrich and great as in other nations?

In February, 1888, occurred the Mt. Vernon, Ill. , cyclone, cutting abroad swath through one-half of the beautiful county-seat, tearing downall heavy buildings, picking up the lighter ones and sweeping themalong like cardboard. 

In three minutes the work of destruction was over. Ten minutes later thesun shone out brightly over the ruins of the town, the wails of themaimed and dying, and the lifeless bodies of the dead. 

Fires broke out on every hand, and the victims pinned down under thewreckage were subjects for the flames. Appeals for assistance went out, but by unfortunate press representation failed to arouse the public, till after several days, when we were reached, through theirrepresentative in Congress, begging that in mercy we go to them. Wearrived in the night, found homes destroyed, hospitals full, scantmedical care, few nurses, food scarce and no money, a relief committeeof excellent men, but little to distribute. 

At daylight we looked over the situation and sent this simple message tothe Associated Press:

"The pitiless snow is falling on the heads of three thousand people, whoare without homes, without food or clothing, and without money. 

"AMERICAN NATIONAL RED CROSS, "Clara Barton, President. "

This was all. We assisted their relief committee to arrange for thereceipt and distribution of funds, sent for experienced helpers to takecharge of supplies, to distribute clothing, and aid the hospitalservice. We remained two weeks, and left them with more supplies thanthey knew how to distribute, and the Citizens' Committee, withaccumulating cash in its treasury of ninety thousand dollars, full ofhope, life, and a gratitude they could not speak. 

As in the Texas famine, we paid our own expenses and no dollar but ourown had passed our hands. We were only glad to do this, in the hope thatwe were building up an institution of self-help of the people, thatwould one day win its way to their favor and aid. 

III

YELLOW FEVER IN FLORIDA

During the same year the yellow fever broke out in Jacksonville, Fla. , and was declared epidemic in September. 

An arrangement had been made between the National Association and theAuxiliary Society of the Red Cross of New Orleans, which societyembraced the famous old "Howard Association, " that, in case of anoutbreak of yellow fever, they would send their immune nurses from theSouth, and we of the North would supply the money to support and paythem. 

This arrangement was carried out so far as could be, under the verynatural differences of a medical department of active, professional men, taking up the treatment of an epidemic of which they knew very littleexperimentally, but filled with the enthusiasm of science and hope, andthe unprofessional, fearless, easy-going gait of the old Southernnurses, white and black, whose whole lives had been spent in just thatwork. 

The Red Cross sent no Northern nurses. But eighteen or twenty "Howardnurses, " mainly colored, went out from New Orleans under charge of Col. Fred. F. Southmayd, their leader of twenty years in epidemics. A part ofhis nurses were stationed at Macclenny, and a part went on toJacksonville. Under medical direction of their noted "yellow feverdoctor"--a tall Norwegian--Dr. Gill, they did their faithful work andwon their meed of grateful praise. 

Our place was in Washington, to receive, deal carefully with, and holdback the tide of offered service from the hundreds of enthusiastic, excited untrained volunteers, rushing on to danger and death. Theirfearless ignorance was a pitiful lesson. In all the hundreds there wasscarcely one who had ever seen a case of yellow fever, but all were surethey were proof against it. Only three passed us, and two of these hadthe fever in Jacksonville. 

When the scourge was ended we met our nurses personally at Camp Perry, paid and sent them back to New Orleans. All that are living are at ourservice still, faithful and true. 

During the fourth week in November a dispatch to national headquartersannounced that the last band of Red Cross nurses, known as the"Macclenny Nurses, " had finished their work at Enterprise, and wouldcome into Camp Perry to wait their ten days' quarantine and go home toNew Orleans for Thanksgiving. 

That would mean that seventy-nine days ago their little company ofeighteen, mainly women, steaming on to Jacksonville, under guidance oftheir old-time trusted leader, Southmayd, of New Orleans, listened tohis announcement that the town of Macclenny, thirty-eight miles fromJacksonville, Fla. , and through which they would soon pass, was in afearful state of distress; a comparatively new town, of a few thousand, largely Northern and Western people, suddenly-stricken down in scores;poor, helpless, physicians all ill, and no nurses; quarantined on allsides, no food, medicine, nor comforts for sick or well. 

"Nurses, shall I leave a part of you there; the train can not stop in, nor near the town, but if I can manage to get it slowed up somewhere, will you jump?"

"We will do anything you say, colonel; we are here in God's name andservice to help His people; for Him, for you, and for the Red Cross, wewill do our best and our all. "

"Conductor, you had a hot box a few miles back; don't you think itshould be looked to after passing Macclenny?"

"I will slow up and have it seen to, colonel, although it may cost me myofficial head. " And it did. 

One mile beyond town, the rain pouring in torrents, the ground soaked, slippery, and caving, out into pitchy darkness, leaped three men andseven women from a puffing, unsteady train, no physician with them, andno instructions save the charge of their leader as the last leap wasmade, and the train pushed on: "Nurses, you know what to do; go and doyour best, and God help you. " Hand to hand, that none go astray in thedarkness, they hobbled back over a mile of slippery cross-ties to thestricken town. Shelter was found, the wet clothes dried, and at midnightthe sick had been parceled out, each nurse had his or her quota ofpatients, and were in for the issue, be it life or death. Those pastall help must be seen through, and lost, all that could be must besaved. The next day a dispatch from Southmayd went back to New Orleansfor Dr. Gill to come and take charge of the sick and the nurses atMacclenny. It was done, and under his wise direction they found again aleader. Their labors and successes are matters for later and moreextended record. 

It is to be borne in mind that these nurses found no general table, notable at all but such as they could provide, find the food for, and cookfor themselves, for the sick, the children, and the old and helpless whohad escaped the fever and must be cared for. No patient could be lefttill the crisis was passed, and many are their records of seventy-twohours without change or sleep or scarcely sitting down. As the diseasegradually succumbed to their watchful care, experience, and skill, theyreached out to other freshly attacked towns and hamlets. Sanderson andGlen St. Mary's became their charge, and return their blessings forlives preserved. 

On November 1st it was thought they could safely leave and go into campfor quarantine; but no regular train would be permitted to take them. The Red Cross secured and paid a special train for them, and, as if inbold relief against the manner of their entry seven weeks before, theentire town, saving its invalids, was assembled at the station at seveno'clock in the morning to bid them good-by and God speed. 

But their fame had gone before them, and "Enterprise, " a hundred milesbelow, just stricken down among its flowers and fruits, reached out itshands for aid, and with one accord, after two days in camp, all turnedback from the coveted home and needed rest and added another month oftoil to their already weary record. At length this was ended, and wordcame again to us that they would go into quarantine. Their unselfish, faithful, and successful record demanded something more than the meresending of money. It deserved the thanks of the Red Cross organizationin the best and highest manner in which they could be bestowed; it wasdecided that its President, in person, should most fittingly do this, and I accordingly left Washington on the morning of November 22d incompany with Dr. Hubbell, field agent, for Camp Perry, the quarantinestation of Florida. Two days and one night by rail, a few miles acrosscountry by wagon, where trains were forbidden to stop, and another mileor so over the trestles of St. Mary's on a dirt car with the workmen, brought us into camp as the evening fires were lighted and the buglesounded supper. The genial surgeon in charge, Dr. Hutton, who carried aknapsack and musket in an Illinois regiment in '62, met us cordially andextended every possible hospitality. Soon there filed past us to supperthe tall doctor and his little flock; some light and fair-skinned, withthe easy step of a well-bred lady, others dark and bony-handed, but thestrong, kind faces below the turbans told at a glance that you couldtrust your life there and find it again. They were not disturbed thatnight, and no certain information of our arrival got among them. It wascold and windy, and the evening short, as nine o'clock brought taps andlights out. In spite of all caution the news of our coming had spreadover the surrounding country, and telegrams bringing both thanks forwhat had been received and the needs for more, came from all sides, andthe good Mayor of Macclenny made his troubled way to reach and greet usin person, and take again the faithful hands that had served and savedhis people. 

Surgeon Hutton's headquarter tent was politely tendered for the firstmeeting, and as one could never, while memory lasts, forget this scene, so no words can ever adequately describe it. The ample tent was filled. Here on the right the Mayor, broad shouldered, kind faced and efficient, officers of camp, and many visitors, wondering what it all meant; in thecenter the tall doctor and his faithful band--Eliza Lanier, Lena Seymour(mother and daughter), Elizabeth Eastman, Harriet Schmidt, Lizzie Louis, Rebecca Vidal, Annie Evans, Arthur Duteil, Frederick Wilson, and EdwardHolyland. 

I give these names because they are worthy a place in the history of anyepidemic; but no country, race, nor creed could claim them as a body:four Americans, one German, one French, one Irish, three Africans, partProtestant, and part Catholic, but all from New Orleans, of grand old_Howard_ stock, from Memphis down, nursing in every epidemic from thebayous of the Mississippi to Tampa Bay; and hereafter we will know themas the "_Old Guard_. "

Here, in the winds of approaching winter they stand in the light garb ofearly September in New Orleans, thin, worn, longing for home, butpatient, grateful, and glad, some trifling "nubia" or turban about thehead, but only one distinguishing feature in common. A pitiful littlemisshapen Red Cross, made by their own hands, of two bits of scarletribbon, soiled, fringed, and tattered, pinned closely upon the leftbreast of each, strove in mute appeal to say who they were, and whatthey served. A friendly recognition and some words of thanks from theirPresident, opened the way for those anxious to follow. The rich, warmeloquence of Mayor Watkins plainly told from how near his heart thestream of gratitude was flowing, and his manly voice trembled as hereverted to the condition of his stricken people, on that pitilessnight, when this little band of pilgrim strangers strayed back to themin the rain and darkness. "I fear they often worked in hunger, " he said, "for then, as now, we had little for ourselves, our sick, or our well;but they brought us to our feet, and the blessing of every man, woman, and child in Macclenny is on them. "

It was with a kind of paternal pride that Dr. Gill advanced and placedbefore us his matchless record of cases attended, and life preserved. "This is the record of our work, " he said. "I am proud of it, and gladthat I have been able to make it, but without the best efforts of thesefaithful nurses I could not have done it; they have stood firm througheverything; not a word of complaint from, nor of, one of them, in allthese trying months, and I thank you, our President, for thisopportunity to testify to their merits in your presence. " The full cupsoverflowed, and as we took each brown calloused hand in ours, and feltthe warm tears dropping over them, we realized how far from callousedwere the hearts behind them. The silence that followed was a season ofprayer. 

Then came opportunity for some conversation, questions, andexplanations. "We wish to introduce to our President our chief nurse, whom Colonel Southmayd placed in charge of us when we left the car, anddirected us to obey him; he is younger than any of us, Ed. Holyland. " Aslight young man with clear, olive complexion, and dark-browed earnesteyes that looked you straight in the face, came forward; his apparentyouthfulness gave rise to the first remark:

"How old are you, Mr. Holyland?"

"Twenty-nine, madam. "

"And you have taken charge of these nurses?"

"I have done what I could for their comfort; I think that was what thecolonel desired; he knew they would need only care and advice, theywould do their best of themselves. During the few days that ColonelSouthmayd remained in Jacksonville, " he continued, "he was able to sendus some such comforts as we needed for the sick, and some nourishingfood for ourselves; but this was only a few days, you know, and afterthat we got on as well as we could without. I know that after he leftthe nurses gave to the sick, the children, the old and the helpless, what they needed for their own strength. "

"But you did not tell us this, Mr. Holyland. "

"No, we were dazed and frightened by the things we heard. We felt thatyour organization was having enough to bear. We knew we must look toyou for our pay, and we thought, under the circumstances, that would beyour share. But permit me, please, to call your attention to Mr. Wilson(a stout colored man advanced), who took charge of a little hospital ofsix cases, and carried them all through, day and night, without anhour's relief from any person, and never lost a single case. "

"And permit me, " chimed in the clear-toned Irish voice of Lizzie Louis, "to tell of Mr. Holyland himself, who found a neglected Italian family amile or more outside of the town. He went and nursed them alone, andwhen the young son, a lad of thirteen or fourteen years, died, knowingthere was no one to bury him there, he wrapped him in a blanket andbrought him into town on his back, for burial. "

Holyland's face grew sad, and his eyes modestly sought the floor, as helistened to this unexpected revelation. 

"I wish to speak of something else, " added one of the men, "which wewere held back from doing, and for which we are now very glad. We shouldnot have thought of it ourselves. It is customary, " he continued, "whena patient dies in an epidemic, to give the nurse ten dollars forpreparing the body for burial; this was done in our first case, but Mr. Holyland had the gift promptly returned with thanks, and the explanationthat we were employed by an organization which fully rewarded itsnurses, and was too high and too correct to accept tribute formisfortune; it was enough that the patient was lost. "

By this time poor black Annie Evans, the "Mammy" of the group, couldhold quiet no longer, and broke silence with, "Missus President! whar isde colonel? Colonel Southmayd; dey tells me all de time he's gone awayfrom New Orleans, and I can't b'l'eve 'em. He can't go away; he can'tlib anywhar else, he was always dar. I'se nursed in yellow fever andcholera more'n twenty-five year, and I neber went for nobody but him; itarn't no New Orleans for us widout him dar. I doesn't know de name ofdat place dey say he's gone to, and I doesn't want to; he'll be in NewOrleans when we gets dar. "

There were pitying glances among the group, at this little burst offeeling, for in some way it was an echo of their own; and Lena Seymouradded tenderly: "We have been trying for these two months to convinceMammy about this, but she is firm in her faith and sometimes refuses tohear us. " But the subject changed with "How many cases did you lose inthis epidemic, Mammy?"

"I didn't lose no cases! Lor' bless you, honey, I doesn't lose cases ifdey hasn't been killed afore dey gets to me; folks needn't die of yellowfever. "

We didn't suppose that "Mammy" intended any reflection upon the medicalfraternity. 

"But now, friends, we must turn to our settlement, which can not bedifficult. Three dollars a day for each nurse, for seventy-nine days, till you are home on Thanksgiving morning. But here are only ten. Thereare eighteen on our list who left with you and Colonel Southmayd; whereare your comrades?" Some eyes flashed and some moistened, as theyanswered, "We do not know. " "They remained in the car that night, andwent on to Jacksonville. " Swift, dark glances swept from one to anotheramong them. Instinctively they drew closer to each other, and overknitted brows and firmly set teeth, a silence fell dark and ominouslike a pall, which the future alone can lift. 

The bugle sounded dinner, and this ended our little camp-meeting, thanwhich few camp-meetings, we believe, ever came nearer to the heart ofHim who offered His life a ransom, and went about doing good. 

The winds blew cold across the camp; the fires shot out long angrytongues of flame and drifts of smoke to every passer-by. The norther wasupon us. Night came down, and all were glad of shelter and sleep. Themorning, quiet, crisp, and white with frost, revealed the blessing whichhad fallen upon a stricken land. 

Thanksgiving was there before its time. The hard rules relaxed. One daymore, and the quarantine was at an end. The north-bound train haltedbelow the camp, and all together, President and agent, tall doctor andhappy nurses, took places on it, the first for headquarters atWashington, the last for New Orleans, and home for Thanksgiving morning, full of the joys of a duty well done, rich in well-paid labor, in thelove of those they had befriended, and the approval of a whole people, South and North, when once their work should be known to them. 

To the last, they clung to their little home-made Red Crosses as if theyhad been gold and diamonds; and when at length the tracks diverged andthe parting must be made, it was with few words, low and softly spoken, but meaning much, with a finger touch upon the little cross, "When youwant us, we are there. "

The supplies forwarded by us were estimated at ten thousand dollars. Themoney received was $6, 281. 58. Out of this sum we paid our twenty nursesthree dollars a day, for seventy-nine days--their cost of living, andtheir transportation when needed. We paid our doctor in charge twentydollars a day, the customary price, for the same period. We paid ouroffice rent, assistants, telegraphing, drayage for supplies sent on byus (railroad transportation free), and all incidentals for a relief workof over three months' duration. This ran our debit column over on theother side over one thousand dollars. Our little part of the relief ofthat misfortune was estimated at fifteen thousand dollars, and onlythose relieved were more grateful than we. 

IV

THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD

On Sunday afternoon, May 31, 1889, with the waters of the Potomac twofeet deep on Pennsylvania Avenue, a half dozen of us left Washington forJohnstown, over washed-out ties and broken tracks, with every littlegully swollen to a raging torrent. After forty-eight hours of this, wereached the scene, which no one need or could describe, but if ever apeople needed help it was these. 

Scarcely a house standing that was safe to enter, the wrecks piled inrubbish thirty feet in height, four thousand dead in the river beds, twenty thousand foodless but for Pittsburg bread rations, and a coldrain which continued unbroken by sunshine for forty days. 

It was at the moment of supreme affliction when we arrived at Johnstown. The waters had subsided, and those of the inhabitants who had escapedthe fate of their fellows were gazing over the scene of destruction andtrying to arouse themselves from the lethargy that had taken hold ofthem when they were stunned by the realization of all the woe that hadbeen visited upon them. How nobly they responded to the call of duty!How much of the heroic there is in our people when it is needed! No idlemurmurings of fate, but true to the god-like instincts of manhood andfraternal love, they quickly banded together to do the best that thewisest among them could suggest. 

For five weary months it was our portion to live amid the scenes ofdestruction, desolation, poverty, want and woe; sometimes in tents, sometimes without; and so much rain and mud, and such a lack of thecommonest comforts for a time, until we could build houses to shelterourselves and those around us. Without a safe and with a dry-goods boxfor a desk, we conducted financial affairs in money and material to theextent of nearly half a million dollars. 

I shall never lose the memory of my first walk on the first day--thewading in mud, the climbing over broken engines, cars, heaps of ironrollers, broken timbers, wrecks of houses; bent railway tracks tangledwith piles of iron wire; bands of workmen, squads of military, andgetting around the bodies of dead animals, and often people being borneaway; the smouldering fires and drizzling rain--all for the purpose ofofficially announcing to the commanding general (for the place was undermartial law) that the Red Cross had arrived in the field. I could nothave puzzled General Hastings more if I had addressed him in Chinese;and if ours had been truly an Oriental mission, the gallant soldiercould not have been more courteous and kind. He immediately set aboutdevising means for making as comfortable as possible a "poor, lonewoman, " helpless, of course, upon such a field. It was with considerabledifficulty that I could convince him that the Red Cross had a way oftaking care of itself at least, and was not likely to suffer fromneglect. 

Not a business house or bank left, the safes all in the bottom of theriver; our little pocketbook was useless, there was nothing to buy, andit would not bring back the dead. With the shelter of the tents of thePhiladelphia Red Cross, that joined us en route with supplies, when wecould find a cleared place to spread, or soil to hold them, with adry-goods box for a desk, our stenographer commenced to rescue the firstdispatches of any description that entered that desolate city. Thedisturbed rivers lapped wearily back and forth, the people, dazed anddumb, dug in the muddy banks for their dead. Hastings with his littlearmy of militia kept order. 

Soon supplies commenced to pour in from everywhere, to be received, sheltered as best they could be from the incessant rain, and distributedby human hands, for it was three weeks before even a cart could pass thestreets. 

But I am not here to describe Johnstown--the noble help that came to it, nor the still more noble people that received it--but simply to say thatthe little untried and unskilled Red Cross played its minor tune of asingle fife among the grand chorus of relief of the whole country, thatrose like an anthem, till over four millions in money, contributed toits main body of relief, with the faithful Kreamer at its head, hadmodestly taken the place of the twelve millions destroyed. But after allit was largely the supplies that saved the people at first, as it alwaysis, and the distribution of which largely consumed the money that wascontributed later. 

From one mammoth tent which served as a warehouse, food and clothingwere given out to the waiting people through the hands of such volunteeragents, both women and men, as I scarcely dare hope to ever see gatheredtogether in one work again. The great cry which had gone out had arousedthe entire country, and our old-time helpers, full of rich experienceand still richer love for the work, faithful to the cross of humanity asthe devotee to the cross of the Master, came up from every point--thefloods, the cyclones, the battle-fields--and kneeling before the shrine, pledged heart and service anew to the work. Fair hands laying asidetheir diamonds, and business men their cares, left homes of elegance andluxury to open rough boxes and barrels, handle second-hand clothing, eatcoarse food at rough-board tables, sleep on cots under a dripping canvastent, all for the love of humanity symbolized in the little flag thatfloated above them. 

Clergymen left their pulpits and laymen their charge to tramp over thehillsides from house to house, to find who needed and suffered, and tocarry to them from our tents on their shoulders, like beasts of burden, the huge bundles of relief, where no beast of burden could reach. 

We had been early requested by official resolution of the FinanceCommittee of the City of Johnstown to aid them in the erection ofhouses. We accepted the invitation, and at the same time proposed to aidin furnishing the nucleus of a household for the home which should inany way be made up. This aid seemed imperative, as nothing was left forthem to commence living with, neither beds, chairs, tables, nor cookingutensils of any kind; and there were few if any stores open, and nofurniture in town. 

Of this labor we had our share. Six buildings of one hundred feet byfifty, later known as "Red Cross Hotels, " were quickly put up to shelterthe people, furnished, supplied, and kept like hotels, free of all costto them, while others were built by the general committee. Threethousand of the latter were erected, and the Red Cross furnished everyone with substantial, newly purchased furniture, ready for occupancy. The books of the "Titusville Manufacturing Company" will show one cashorder of ten thousand dollars for furniture. The three thousand housesthus furnished each accommodated two families. 

A ponderous book of nearly two feet square shows the name, sex, andnumber of persons of each family, and a list of every article receivedby them. To-day one looks in wonder at such a display of clerical laborand accuracy, under even favorable conditions. 

This was only accomplished by the hard, unpaid labor of every officer, and the large amount of volunteer friendly aid that came to us. 

The great manufacturers of the country, and the heavy contributingagents, on learning our intentions, sent, without a hint from us, manyof their articles, as, for instance, New Bedford, Mass. , sent mattressesand bedding; Sheboygan, Wis. , sent furniture and enameled ironware;Titusville, Pa. , with a population of ten thousand, sent ten thousanddollars' worth of its well-made bedsteads, springs, extension-tables, chairs, stands and rockers; and the well-known New York newspaper, TheMail and Express, sent a large lot of mattresses, feather pillows, bedclothing, sheets, and pillow-slips by the thousand and cookingutensils by the ten thousands. Six large teams were in constant servicedelivering these goods. 

When the contributions slackened or ceased, and more material wasneeded, we purchased of the same firms which had contributed, keepingour stock good until all applications were filled. The record on ourbooks showed that over twenty-five thousand persons had been directlyserved by us. They had received our help independently and withoutbegging. No child has learned to beg at the doors of the Red Cross. 

It is to be borne in mind that the fury of the deluge had swept almostentirely the homes of the wealthy, the elegant, the cultured leaders ofsociety, and the fathers of the town. This class who were spared weremore painfully homeless than the indigent poor, who could still huddlein together. They could not go away, for the suffering and demoralizedtown needed their care and oversight more than ever before. There was nohome for them, nowhere to get a meal of food or to sleep. Still theymust work on, and the stranger coming to town on business must gounfed, with no shelter at night, if he would sleep, or, indeed, escapebeing picked up by the military guard. 

To meet these necessities, and being apprehensive that some good livesmight go out under the existing luck of accommodations, it was decidedto erect a building similar to our warehouse. The use of the former siteof the Episcopal Church was generously tendered us by the Bishop earlyin June, for any purpose we might desire. This house, which was soonerected, was known as the "Locust Street Red Cross Hotel"; it stood somefifty rods from our warehouse, and was fifty by one hundred and sixteenfeet in dimensions, two stories in height, with lantern roof, built ofhemlock, single siding, papered inside with heavy building paper, andheated by natural gas, as all our buildings were. It consisted ofthirty-four rooms, besides kitchen, laundry, bath-rooms with hot andcold water, and one main dining-hall and sitting-room through thecenter, sixteen feet in width by one hundred in length. 

It was fully furnished with excellent beds, bedding, bureaus, tables, chairs, and all needful housekeeping furniture. A competent landlady, who, like the rest, had a few weeks before floated down over the sameground on the roof of her house in thirty feet of water, was placed incharge, with instructions to keep a good house, make what she could rentfree, but charging no Johnstown person over twenty-five cents for a mealof food. 

This was the first attempt at social life after that terribleseparation, and its success was something that I am very proud of. Thehouse was full of townspeople from the first day, and strangers nolonger looked in vain for accommodations. 

The conception of the need of this house, and the method of selectingits inmates, and the manner of inducting them into their new home, weresomewhat unique and may be of interest to the reader. I had noticedamong the brave and true men, who were working in the mud and rain, manyrefined-looking gentlemen, who were, before this great misfortunecarried away most of their belongings, the wealthiest and mostinfluential citizens. Never having had to struggle amid such hardshipsand deprivations, their sufferings were more acute than those of thepoorer and more hardy people; and it did not require any greatforesight to know that they were physically incapable of such labor ifprolonged, nor to predict their early sickness and death if they werenot properly housed and fed. As the salvation of the town depended in agreat measure upon the efforts of these men, it was vitally necessarythat their lives should be preserved. Realizing all this, it occurred tous that the most important thing to do, next to feeding the hungry, wasto provide proper shelter for these delicate men and their families. Theidea once conceived was soon communicated to my staff, and, after dueconsideration, it was put in the way of realization. 

On the afternoon of July 27th hundreds of citizens called on us, andcongratulations and good wishes were the order of the day. As themembers of each family whom we had selected to occupy apartments in thehouse arrived, they were quietly taken aside and requested to remain andhave dinner with us. After all the guests were departed except those whohad been requested to remain, dinner was announced, and the party wasseated by the members of the Red Cross. Beside the plate of each headof a family were laid the keys to an apartment, with a card inviting thefamily to take possession at once, and remain as long as they chose. 

I can not describe the scene that followed; there were tears and brokenvoices; suffice to say, the members of that household were made happyand comfortable for many long months; and I venture to assert that thosenow living recall those days with the fondest recollections. 

The contributions to the general committee had been so liberal that itwas possible to erect and provide for the great burial-place of itsdead--"Grand View, " that overlooks the city. It was also suggested thata benevolent society, as a permanent institution, be formed by theunited action of the general committee and the Red Cross. This wassuccessfully accomplished by the generous provision of eight thousanddollars from the committee on its part and the turning over of ourwell-made and supplied hospital buildings, and the funds we had leftplaced in charge of a faithful custodian under our pay for the followingsix months. 

This is the present "Union Benevolent Society" of Johnstown to-day. 

I remained five months with these people without once visiting my ownhome, only returning to it when the frost had killed the green I hadleft in May. 

In that time, it was estimated, we had housed, handled, and distributed$211, 000 worth of supplies--new and old--for, by request of the wearychairman of the general committee, at the last, we took up the close ofits distribution. It is our joy and pride to recall how closely weworked in connection with that honored committee from first to last, andhow strong and unsullied that friendship has remained. 

The value of money that passed through our hands was $39, 000, as statedin the official report of the general committee, to which all requiredreturns were made, recorded, and published by the committee. 

Our usual quota of assistants was fifty persons, the higher grade of menand women assistants largely volunteers. Two railroads brought oursupplies. To handle these the strongest men were required, and seventwo-horse teams ran daily for three and a half months in thedistribution, at customary rates of pay. These were the workingmen ofthe town who had suffered with the rest. 

It was a joy that in all the uncertainties of that uncertain field not asingle complaint ever reached us of the non-acknowledgment of a dollarentrusted to us. 

The paths of charity are over roadways of ashes; and he who would treadthem must be prepared to meet opposition, misconstruction, jealousy, andcalumny. Let his work be that of angels--still it will not satisfy all. 

In the light of recent events, I may perhaps be pardoned for quoting afew lines from the official report of the Johnstown Flood FinanceCommittee appointed by Governor Beaver, as showing how these gentlemen, the foremost men in the community, regarded our efforts to give them ahelping hand:

"In this matter of sheltering the people, as in others of likeimportance, Miss Clara Barton, President of the Red Cross Association, was most helpful. At a time when there was a doubt if the FloodCommission could furnish houses of suitable character and with therequisite promptness, she offered to assume charge, and she erected withthe funds of the Association three large apartment houses, whichafforded comfortable lodgings for many houseless people. She was amongthe first to arrive on the scene of calamity, bringing with her Dr. Hubbell, the Field Officer of the Red Cross Association, and a staff ofskilled assistants. She made her own organization for relief work inevery form, disposing of the large resources under her control with suchwisdom and tenderness that the charity of the Red Cross had no sting, and its recipients are not Miss Barton's dependents, but her friends. She was also the last of the ministering spirits to leave the scene ofher labors, and she left her apartment houses for use during the winter, and turned over her warehouse with its store of furniture, bedding, andclothing, and a well-equipped infirmary, to the Union BenevolentAssociation of the Conemaugh Valley, the organization of which sheadvised and helped to form; and its lady visitors have so well performedtheir work that the dreaded winter has no terrors, mendicancy has beenrepressed, and not a single case of unrelieved suffering is known tohave occurred in all the flooded district. "

Enterprising, industrious, and hopeful, the new Johnstown, phoenix-like, rose from its ruins more beautiful than the old, with aceaseless throb of grateful memory for every kind act rendered, andevery thought of sympathy given her in her great hour of desolation andwoe. God bless her, and God bless all who helped save her!

V

THE RUSSIAN FAMINE

As early as 1889, the foreign journals began to tell us of theapprehension caused by an unusual failure of the crops in CentralRussia, extending from Moscow north and south, and east beyond the UralMountains and into Siberia--embracing an era of a million square miles. This failure was followed by another in 1890. 

Eighteen hundred and ninety-one found the old-time granaries empty, anda total failure of the crops, and a population of thirty-five millionsof people, paralyzed with the dread of approaching famine. 

The American Red Cross had placed itself in communication with theSecretary of State, Hon. James G. Blaine, whose name and memory ittreasures with reverence, and Mr. Alexander Gregor, the accomplishedRussian _Chargé d'Affaires_ at Washington, and ascertained that Russiawould gladly receive donations of relief from America. She would evensend her ships for any food that might be offered. This, America wouldnot permit and Congress was appealed to for ocean transportation. TheSenate voted a liberal appropriation, which was defeated in the House. 

Then the Red Cross, with the aid of the citizens of Washington, took upthe matter. They were joined by the Order of Elks, which contributed asum of seven hundred dollars, than which perhaps that liberal Ordernever made a more timely gift. Funds were raised to charter a steamshipfor the Red Cross. The spirit spread generally over the country. Philadelphia sent a messenger to learn what Washington was doing, andwas advised to charter one of its own ships, which was done, and twoconsignments were finally made by them. 

Minnesota had already acted, and later, by the advice and aid of theextra provision of the Red Cross, the Christian Herald sent out its shipcargo, under convoy of Rev. Dr. Talmage. 

But the State of Iowa led all others in active generosity. 

Under the supervision of Mr. B. F. Tillinghast, of Davenport, aided bythe able pen of Miss Alice French, that State alone raised, and sent intrains across the country from Iowa to New York, one hundred andseventeen thousand bushels of corn and one hundred thousand pounds offlour, which was loaded onto the "Tynehead, " a staunch British ship, andconsigned to the port of Riga. 

That year we had been notified of an International Conference to be heldin Rome. The customary appropriation was made by Congress, and again Iwas appointed delegate. Too much occupied by the relief at home, Dr. Hubbell, also a delegate, went in my place to Rome, and from therereached Riga in time to receive and direct the distribution of theimmense cargo of grain throughout Russia. 

When Dr. Hubbell reached Riga he learned that two hundred and fortypeasants had been waiting on the dock two days, watching and waiting forthe ship from America. Not waiting for food, for Riga was not in afamine province, but waiting that they might not miss the opportunityand the honor of unloading the American ship that had brought food totheir unfortunate brothers in the interior. As soon as they could getinto the hold of the ship, one hundred and forty of them began theunloading. They worked night and day, without rest, determined to unloadthe entire cargo themselves, without help. But on the third night ourConsul, Mr. Bornholdt, insisted on their having a relief of twelvehours, and when the twelve hours were up they were all in their placesagain, and remained until the cargo was out, declining to take any payfor their labor. Twelve women worked along with them in the same spirit, in the ship and on the dock, with needles, sewing up the rents in thebags, to prevent waste in handling, and cooking meals for the men. 

The Mayor of St. Petersburg, in an address on behalf of that city toAmerican donors, declared:

"The Russian people know how to be grateful. If up to this day these twogreat countries, Russia and the United States, have not only neverquarreled, but on the contrary wished each other prosperity and strengthalways, these feelings of sympathy can grow only stronger in the future, both countries being conscious that in the season of trial for either itwill find in the other cordial succor and support. And can truefriendship be tested if not in the hour of misfortune?"

A peasant of Samara sent to a Russian editor, together with threecolored eggs, a letter which he asked to have forwarded to America. Thefollowing is an extract from the letter:

"Christ is risen! To the merciful benefactors, the protectors of thepoor, the feeders of the starving, the guardians of the orphans--Christis risen. 

"North Americans! May the Lord grant you a peaceful and long life andprosperity to your land, and may your fields be filled with abundantharvest--Christ is risen. Your mercifulness gives us a helping hand. Through your charity you have satisfied the starving. And for yourmagnificent alms accept from me this humble gift, which I send to theentire American people for your great beneficence, from all the heartsof the poor filled with feelings of joy. "

In the gratitude manifested by the Russian Government and people we wereglad to feel that a slight return had been made to Russia for pastfavors in our own peril, and a friendship never broken. 

The Department of State at Washington, under date of January 11, 1894, forwarded the following:

"I have to inform you that on November 7, 1893, the American Minister atSt. Petersburg received from the nobility of that city, through theirMarshal, Count Alexis Bobrinskoy, an address to the people of the UnitedStates. This address, which is in the English language, embodies interms fitly chosen the thanks of the Russian people to the American forthe aid sent to their country from our own during the famine period ofthe past two years. It is beautifully engrossed and its illuminationembraces water-color drawings which render it a most attractive work ofart. 

"The document, which is superbly bound and enclosed in a fine case, wasduly forwarded to this city by the American Minister at St. Petersburg, and will be given a conspicuous place in the library of thisdepartment. "

In so general an uprising of relief no great sum in contributions couldbe expected from any one source. The Red Cross felt that, if no more, itwas glad to be able to pay, by the generous help of the city ofWashington, the charter of a ship that conveyed itscorn--$12, 500--besides several thousands distributed in Russia throughTolstoi and American agents there. 

We paid the cost of loading, superintended by Mr. Tillinghast in person, whose financial record shows the exact cost of transportation. All thiswas done in connection with the State of Iowa. Our home record showed, when all was finished, a field closed with a small balance in our favor, which we had no active call for. By the advice of one of the bestpersonal advisers, bankers, and friends that the Red Cross has ever had, this small sum was placed in bank, in readiness for the next call. 

VI

THE SEA ISLAND RELIEF

This little timely provision, advisedly made, was none too much or nonetoo soon. 

On the 28th of August, 1893, a hurricane and tidal wave from thedirection of the West Indies swept the coast of South Carolina, coveringits entire range of Port Royal Islands, sixteen feet below the sea. These islands had thirty-five thousand inhabitants, mainly negroes. Atfirst, it was thought that all must have perished. Later, it was foundthat only some four or five thousand had been drowned, and that thirtythousand remained with no earthly possession of home, clothing, or food. The few boats not swept away took them over to the mainland inthousands, and calls went out for help. In this emergency GovernorTillman called for the services of the Red Cross, and my note-book hasthis passage:

"The next night, in a dark, cheerless September mist, I closed my doorbehind me for ten months, and with three assistants went to the stationto meet Senator Butler. "

At Columbia we were joined by Governor Tillman, and thus reinforcedproceeded to Beaufort. After due examination the work which had beenofficially placed with us by the Governor was accepted October 1st, andcarried on until the following July. 

The submerged lands were drained, three hundred miles of ditches made, amillion feet of lumber purchased and houses built, fields and gardensplanted with the best seed in the United States, and the work all doneby the people themselves. The thousands of boxes of clothing receivedwere distributed among them, and we left them in July, 1894, supplies ofvegetables for the city of Beaufort. 

Free transportation for supplies continued till about March. Noprovisions in kind were sent from any source after the first four weeksof public excitement. After this all foodstuffs were purchased inCharleston and distributed as rations. Men were compelled to work on thebuilding of their own homes in order to receive rations. 

We found them an industrious, grateful class of people, far above theordinary grade usually met. They largely owned their little homes, andappreciated instruction in the way of improving them. The tender memoryof the childlike confidence and obedience of this ebony-faced populationis something that time cannot efface from either us or them. 

On the third day after our arrival at Beaufort four middle-aged coloredmen came to the door of the room we had appropriated as an office, andrespectfully asked to see "Miss Clare. " They were admitted, and I waitedto learn what request they would probably make of me. At length thetallest and evidently the leader, said:

"Miss Clare, we knows you doesn't remember us. But we never fo'gits you. We has all of us got somethin' to show you. "

Slipping up a soiled, ragged shirtsleeve, he showed me an ugly scarabove the elbow, reaching to the shoulder. "Wagner?" I asked. 

"Yes, Miss Clare, and you drissed it for me that night, when I crawleddown the beach--'cause my leg was broke too, " he replied. "And we wasall of us there, and you took care of us all and drissed our wounz. Iwas with Colonel Shaw, and crawled out of the fote. The oth's nevah gotin. But we all got to you, Miss Clare. And now you's got to us. We'stalked about you a heap o' times, but we nevah 'spected to see you. We'snevah fo'git it, Miss Clare. "

One by one they showed their scars. There was very little clothing tohide them--bullet wound and sabre stroke. The memory, dark and sad, stood out before us all. It was a moment not to be forgotten. 

Our purchases consisted of meat, mainly dry sides of pork, and grits, orhominy, for eating. For planting, beside the seed contributed and thenine hundred bushels of Irish potatoes, were eighteen hundred bushels ofNorthern Flint seed corn. 

The contributions of food and clothing had been sent to Beaufort, andwere in the warehouses of the perplexed committee of its leadingcitizens. This had naturally drawn all the inhabitants of the scores ofdesolated islands for fifty miles to Beaufort, until, it is safe to say, that fifteen to twenty thousand refugees had gathered there, living inits streets and waiting to be fed from day to day. 

As the food was there they could not be induced to return to theislands. Indeed, there was more often nothing on the islands to returnto. The description given by the heads of families and owners, for theyhad largely owned their homes, gotten on the old-time plantations "'fode wah, " was this: If all had been swept out to sea and nothingremained, it was described as, "done gone. " But if thrown down and partsof the wreck still remained, it was described as "ractified. "

A few of the churches, being larger and more strongly built, stillremained standing. During the first ten days of our stay it would havebeen impossible to drive through the principal streets of Beaufort. Theywere a solid moving mass, crowding as near to the storehouses aspossible to get, in spite of the policeman, who kindly held them back. 

We sat daily in counsel with the local committee, until seeing that onlysystematic measures and a decided change could relieve the conditionsand render the city safe. We then, on the first of October, decided toaccede to the request of the Governor made at first, and take solecharge of the relief. 

Our first order was to close every storehouse, both of food andclothing, and inform the people that all distributions would hereafterbe made from the islands. It is impossible to convey to the mind of thereader the difficulty of getting into a few intelligent sentences theidea of the means adopted to produce these changes and inaugurate asystem that was to restore to active habits of life a body of utterlyhomeless, demoralized, and ignorant people, equal in numbers to a smallnew State. 

If these little covers would admit the scores of pages of admirablywritten reports of the officers and helpers on that field, every linereplete with interest, that lie here at my hand, it would be an easy anda welcome task to reproduce them entire, and no more than deserved fortheir faithful and gratuitous labor. 

Dr. Egan's report has this passage:

"October 2d came my marching orders. Take charge of the warehouse andstores, make an inventory of them, disperse these men, and rid the cityof the demoralizing influence of idle people. The doors are closed andthe inventory begun. "

The local committee had kindly pointed out the most suitable man to takecharge of each community, and to him would be consigned the rations tobe distributed to each family and person within his charge, for whichreceipt and distribution he became as responsible as a merchant. 

The goods and rations were at once shipped across the bay to them, ortaken on their own boats, if so fortunate as to have one left from thestorm. It is needless to say that the multitude followed the food. 

In three days there were not people enough left in Beaufort, besides itsown, to be hired for a "job of work. " Then followed the necessity formaterial to rebuild the "done gone, " and to repair the "ractified"homes. 

A million feet of pine lumber was purchased of a leading lumber dealer, shipped down the Combahee River, and delivered at the landings on theislands most convenient of access to the points needed. Each manreceived his lumber by order and receipt, and was under obligation tobuild his own house. The work was all performed by themselves. A gardenwas insisted upon. At first this proposition was resisted asimpracticable. 

"No use, Mistah--no use--'cause de pig eat it all up. "

It was suggested that a fence might be made enclosing at least a quarterof an acre about the house to keep "de pig" out, as we should latersend, for planting, the best seed to be obtained in the country. 

To this moment our thanks go out to the Agricultural Department atWashington, and the great seed houses of all the North, for the generousdonations that served to bring once more into self-sustaining relationsthis destitute and well-disposed people. 

The fact that the building of the fence, and its subsequent keeping instrict repair, had some bearing on the weekly issuance of rations, wasevidently not without its influence. There were no poor fences and "depig" did no damage. But there were such gardens, and of such varieties, as those islands had never before seen. 

The earliest crop to strive for, beside the gardens, was the Irishpotato, which they had never raised. Nine hundred bushels were purchasedfrom Savannah for planting in February. The difficulty of distributingthe potatoes lay in the fact that they would be more likely to findtheir way into the dinner pot than into the ground. To avoid this thecourt-yard inside our headquarters was appropriated for the purpose ofpreparing the potatoes for planting. 

Some forty women were hired to come over from the islands and cutpotatoes for seed--every "eye" of the potato making a sprout--thesedistributed to them by the peck, like other seed. 

I recall a fine, bright morning in May, when I was told that a woman whohad come over from St. Helena in the night, waited at the door to seeme. I went to the door to find a tall, bright-looking woman in a cleandress, with a basket on her head, which, after salutation, she loweredand held out to me. There was something over a peck of Early Rosepotatoes in the basket--in size from a pigeon's to a pullet's egg. Thegrateful woman could wait no longer for the potatoes to grow larger, but had dug these, and had come ten miles over the sea, in the night, tobring them to me as a first offering of food of her own raising. 

If the tears fell on the little gift as I looked and remembered, no onewill wonder or criticise. The potatoes were cooked for breakfast, and"Susie Jane" was invited to partake. 

The shores of the mainland had not been exempt from the ravages of thestorm and in many instances had suffered like the islands. Some thirtymiles above Beaufort was a kind of plantation, with a community of sixtyor seventy families of colored people. The property was owned by twoelderly white ladies who had not returned since driven away by thestorm. 

This village was reported to us as in need and demoralized, with nohead, scant of food, and its "ractified" houses scarcely affording ashelter. 

A representative mulatto man came to tell us. An inspection was made andresulted in this man being put in charge to build up the community. Lumber and food were provided and the people set to work under hischarge. From time to time word came to us, and after some months thetall representative came again. He had been asked by the people to comeand bring their thanks to the Red Cross for "de home, de gard'n, de pig, and de chick'n dey all has now. "

The thanks they had emphasized and proved by the heavy basket thatJackson had carefully brought all the forty miles. It containedseventy-one fresh eggs--the gift of seventy-one families--being acontribution of one egg from each family, from the day or two previousto his leaving on his mission. 

Domestic gardens were a new feature among these islanders, whose wholeattention had been always given to the raising of the renowned "SeaIsland Cotton, " the pride of the market, and a just distinction tothemselves and the worthy planter. The result of this innovation wasthat, when we left in July, it was nearly as difficult for a pedestrianto make his way on the narrow sidewalks of Beaufort because of piled-upvegetables for sale from the islands, as it had been in October to passthrough the streets because of hungry, idle men and women. 

Nothing better illustrates the native good heart of these people thantheir kindly interest in and for each other. Often the young men, without families, would club together and put up a house for some loneold "auntie, " who had neither family nor home, and occasionally thereseemed to develop among them an active philanthropist. Of this type wasJack Owens, who rebuilt his own "done gone" premises. One day as thefield agent was driving out on some inspection he met Jack walking intotown. 

His decrepit neighbor's house had burned a few weeks before, and Jackhad gotten lumber and rebuilt the house himself. In describing the utterdevastation, Jack explained that "all de house and de well wasburned"--and he had built another house and was coming in on foot "forfunituh to funish it. " Jack had lost his ox, "a big ox, " he said, in thestorm, and now he "hadn't any nuther" to plow his ground. He pleaded foranother--if it was only "a lil' critter it would grow big"--and it wouldhelp him so much. 

The appeal was not to be resisted. Dr. Hubbell treasures to this day thesatisfaction he felt in procuring something better than the "lil'critter" as reward and encouragement for Jack's active philanthropy. 

If any practical woman reading this should try to comprehend what itwould be to undertake to clothe and keep clothed thirty thousand humanbeings for a year, and to do this from the charitable gifts of thepeople, which gifts had all done more or less service before--oftenpretty thoroughly "ractified"--this woman will not wonder that sewingsocieties suggested themselves to us at headquarters. 

The women were called together and this suggestion made to them, withthe result that an old time "sewing circle" was instituted in everycommunity. Its membership, officers, dues, and regulations were properlyestablished--one-half day in each week devoted by each member to thework in its sewing-rooms, with a woman in charge to prepare it. Theclothing was given out to them as received by us. Many a basket cameproudly back to show us the difference between "den an' now"--good, strong, firmly mended garments. Ragged coats and pants disappeared fromamong the men, as no longer "'spectable fo' de fambly. "

Provision was also made that the little girls from ten years old shouldattend and be taught to sew. Many a little dress was selected atheadquarters for them to make over or repair. 

I wish I could do fitting justice to the band of women volunteers whostood by me through those long months. Some had commenced with me whensociety belles, years before, now mistresses of their own palatialhomes; some had come from under the old historic elms of Boston, andsome from the hard-fought fields of Britain's Africa, and wearing theVictoria Cross. To them, white and black were the same, and no toil toohard or too menial. 

The money contributed and received for the entire relief of ten monthswas thirty thousand five hundred, and a few additional dollars and centswhich I do not at this moment recall. It aggregated one dollar apiecefor the entire maintenance of thirty thousand persons for ten months. 

It is the general custom in this part of the country for the merchantsto furnish supplies to their patrons, and wait until the gathering ofthe crops for their pay. But when we left these people at the beginningof their harvest, not one family in twenty-five had contracted a debtfor supplies: an experience before unknown in their history. 

A report was made and passed into the hands of our legal counsellor, who, on seeing that no change could be truthfully made in it, advisedthat it be not published, as no one would believe it possible to bedone, and we would get only distrust and discredit. Having now come to apass where distrust and discredit are no longer to be feared by the RedCross, we ourselves are free to make the statement. But back of the hardfacts there is compensation. 

A half dozen years later, when our negro protégés of the Sea Islandsheard of the disaster that had fallen upon Galveston, they at oncegathered for aid and sent in their contributions. 

"'Cause dey suffers like we did, and de Red Cross is dar, " they said. 

Of course I would not permit one dollar of this holy gift to Galvestonto go to other than the hands, hard, bony, and black--such as had raisedit in their penury. I also wanted it to do more. Searching for the mostreliable colored people in the city I found in the superintendent of thecolored schools a man who had occupied that place for many years, andwho had the respect and confidence of the people of Galveston. I askedhim to consult his foremost women teachers, and if it pleased them, toform a society and fit themselves to receive a little money. 

In about a week he appeared with his deputation. I informed them that Ihad a little money from their own people of the Sea Islands for them;that they had been chosen to receive it, because as teachers of thechildren they would have access to the needs and conditions of thefamilies. I told them that I had desired to do more than merely make agift for distribution. I wished to plant a tree. I could have given themtheir peach, which they would eat, enjoy, and throw the pit away. But Iwished them to plant the pit, and let it raise other fruit for them, andfor that reason I had asked the formation of this society. 

They all sat quiet a few moments, the tears were on their faces. Atlength their president, the school superintendent, spoke for them:

"Miss Barton, " he said, "we all appreciate this, and in the name of allI promise you that the pit shall be reverently planted, and I trust thetime will come when I can tell you that our tree is not only bearingfruit for ourselves, but for all suffering brethren, as theirs have donefor us. "

I then handed them the check for $397. The moment seemed sacred whenthese poor dark figures, struggling toward the light, walked out of mypresence. The pit has been successfully planted in Galveston, and we arefrom time to time informed of its bearing. 

VII

ARMENIAN RELIEF

1896

Leaving the Port Royal field past midsummer of 1894, after an absence ofnearly a year--at a day's notice--the remainder of the autumn and winterwas scarcely less occupied in the details which had been unavoidablyoverlooked. Before spring our correspondence commenced to enlarge withrumors of Armenian massacres, and so excited and rapid was the increasethat, so far as actual labor, consultation, and thought were concerned, we might as well have been on a field of relief. 

Unfortunately, the suspicions of the Turkish Government had fallen uponthe resident missionaries, both English and American, as favoring theviews and efforts of its anarchistic population, or the "young Turks, "as they were designated. This had the effect of placing the missionariesin danger, confining them strictly to their own quarters, preventingall communication and the receiving of any funds sent them from abroad. 

England had a large waiting fund which it could not distribute, andappealed to the American Missionary Boards of Boston and New York, tofind them equally powerless. The need of funds among the missionariesthroughout Turkey was getting painfully urgent, and as a last resort itwas suggested from Constantinople that the Red Cross be asked to openthe way. 

A written request from the Rev. Judson Smith, D. D. , of Boston, wasnearly identical with one received by us from Mr. Spencer Trask, of NewYork, who with others was about to form a national Armenian reliefcommittee, to be established in that city. 

Following these communications, both of these eminent gentlemen, Mr. Smith and Mr. Trask, came in person to urge our compliance with theirrequest that the Red Cross accept the charge and personally undertakethe doubtful and dangerous task of distributing the waiting funds amongthe missionaries in Turkey. 

As Mr. Trask was to take the lead in the formation of a committee forthe raising of funds, his interest was naturally paramount, and hisarguments in favor of our acceptance were wellnigh irresistible. Immediate action on the part of some one was imperative. Human beingswere starving, and could not be reached. Thousands of towns and villageshad not been heard from since the massacres, and only the Red Crosscould have any hope of reaching them. No one else was prepared for fieldwork; it had its force of trained field workers. Turkey was one of thesignatory powers to the Red Cross Treaty. Thus it was hoped and believedthat she would the more readily accept its presence. 

These are mere examples of the reasons urged by the ardent advocates ofthe proposed committee, until at length we came to consider itsacceptance, on conditions which must be clearly understood. First, wemust not be expected to take any part in, or to be made use of, in theraising of funds--one of our fundamental rules being never to ask forfunds--we did not do it for ourselves. 

Second, there must be perfect unanimity between themselves. We must beassured that every one wanted us to go. Our part would be hard enoughthen; and finally we must be sure they had some funds to distribute. 

Of the amount of these funds no mention was made by us, and I remember afeeling of good-natured amusement as I heard the officers of thisuntried effort at raising funds speak of "millions. " It was easy todiscern that they were more accustomed to the figures of a bankingestablishment than a charity organization dependent on the raising offunds. They were likely to be disappointed. In reality, the amount, sothere were something to go with, made very little difference to us, aswe were merely to place what was entrusted to us where most needed, andwhen that was done we had but to return. We never named any amount aspreferable to us. 

The means resorted to in raising the funds were unfortunate. In thegreat public meetings called for that purpose the utmost indiscretionprevailed in regard to language applied to Turkey and the TurkishGovernment. This aroused the indignation of the Turkish officials, whovery reasonably took measures to have our entrance into Turkeyforbidden. 

A date of sailing, however, had been given Mr. Trask, and his committee, feeling that any change would be detrimental to their efforts, no changewas made, and we sailed on time, to find in England no permission, andfurther efforts necessary. With time and patience the troublesomeeffects of these mistakes were overcome, and Constantinople was reached, and a heavenly welcome by the harassed missionaries awaited us. 

The first step was to procure an introduction to the Turkish Government, which had in one sense refused to see me. Accompanied by the AmericanMinister, Hon. A. W. Terrell, and his premier interpreter, Gargiulo, oneof the most experienced diplomatic officers in Constantinople, I calledby appointment upon Tewfik Pasha, the Turkish Minister of ForeignAffairs, or Minister of State. To those conversant with the personagesconnected with Turkish affairs, I need not say that Tewfik Pasha isprobably the foremost man of the government--a manly man, with a kind, fine face, and genial, polished manners. Educated abroad, with advancedviews on general subjects, he impresses one as a man who would sanctionno wrong it was in his power to avert. 

Mr. Terrell's introduction was most appropriate and well expressed, bearing with strong emphasis upon the suffering condition of the peopleof the interior, in consequence of the massacres, the great sympathy ofthe people of America, and giving assurance that our objects were purelyhumanitarian, having neither political, racial, nor religioussignificance. 

The Pasha listened most attentively to Mr. Terrell, thanked him, andsaid that this was well understood, that they knew the Red Cross and itspresident. Turning to me he repeated: "We know you, Miss Barton; havelong known you and your work. We would like to hear your plans forrelief and what you desire. "

I proceeded to state our plans for relief, which, if not carried out atthis time, the suffering in Armenia, unless we had been misinformed, would shock the entire civilized world. None of us knew from personalobservation, as yet, the full need of assistance, but had reason tobelieve it very great. If my agents were permitted to go, such need asthey found they would be prompt to relieve. On the other hand, if theydid not find the need existing there, none would leave the field sogladly as they. There would be no respecting of persons--humanity alonewould be their guide. "We have, " I added, "brought only ourselves; nocorrespondent has accompanied us, and we shall have none, and shall notgo home to write a book on Turkey. We are not here for that. Nothingshall be done in any concealed manner. All dispatches which we send willgo openly through your own telegraph, and I should be glad if all thatwe shall write could be seen by your government. I can not, of course, say what its character will be, but can vouch for its truth, fairness, and integrity, and for the conduct of every leading man who shall besent. I shall never counsel or permit a sly or underhand action withyour government, and you will pardon me, Pasha, if I say I shall expectthe same treatment in return--such as I give I shall expect to receive. "

Almost without a breath he replied: "And you shall have it. We honoryour position and your wishes shall be respected. Such aid andprotection as we are able, we shall render. "

I then asked if it were necessary for me to see other officials. "No, "he replied, "I speak for my government, " and with cordial good wishesour interview closed. 

I never spoke personally with this gentleman again, all further businessbeing officially transacted through the officers of our legation. Yet Ican truly say, as I have said of my first meeting with our matchlessband of missionary workers, that here commenced an acquaintance whichproved invaluable, and here were given pledges of mutual faith, of whichnot a word was ever broken on either side. 

The Turkish Government, when once it came to understand American methodsand enthusiasm was forgiving and kind to us. No obstruction was everplaced in our way. Our five expeditions passed through Armenian Turkeyfrom sea to sea, distributing whatever was needed, repairing thedestroyed machines, enabling the people to make tools to harvest theirgrain, thus averting a famine; providing medical help and food as wellfor thousands of sick; setting free the frightened inhabitants, andreturning them to the villages from which they had fled for their lives;restoring all missionary freedom that had been interrupted; establishinga more kindly feeling toward them on the part of the government; andthrough all this, we had never one unpleasant transaction with anyperson of whatever name or race. 

While our expeditions were getting ready to go out by the Black Sea, arequest was brought to me by Dr. Washburn, of Robert College, from SirPhilip Currie, the British Ambassador at Constantinople, asking if Icould not be "persuaded" to turn my expedition through theMediterranean, rather than the Black Sea, in order to reach Mirash andZeitoun, where the foreign consuls were at the moment convened. They hadgotten word to him that ten thousand people in those two cities weredown with four distinct epidemics--typhoid and typhus fevers, dysenteryand smallpox--that the victims were dying in overwhelming numbers, andthat there was not a physician among them, all being either sick ordead, with no medicine and little food. 

This was not a case for "persuasion, " but of heartfelt thanks from usall, that Sir Philip had remembered to call us, whom he had never met. But here was a hindrance. The only means of conveyance fromConstantinople to Alexandretta were coasting boats, belonging todifferent nationalities, which left only once in two weeks, andirregularly at that. Transport for our goods was secured on the firstboat to leave, the goods taken to the wharf at Galata, and at the latestmoment, in order to give time, a request was made to the government for_teskeres_, or traveling permits, for Dr. J. B. Hubbell and assistants. To our surprise they were granted instantly, but by some delay on thepart of the messenger sent for them they reached a moment too late. Theboat left a little more promptly, taking with it our relief goods, andleaving the men on the dock to receive their permits only when the boatwas beyond recall. It was really the fault of no one. 

With the least possible delay Dr. Hubbell secured passage by the firstboat at Smyrna, and a fortunate chance boat from there took him toAlexandretta, via Beyrout and Tripoli, Syria. The goods arrived insafety, and two other of our assistants, whom we had called by cablefrom America--Edward M. Wistar and Charles King Wood--were also passedover to the same point with more goods. There, caravans were fitted outto leave over the--to them--unknown track to Aintab, as a first base. From this point the reports of these three gentlemen made to me will beliving witnesses. They tell their own modest tales of exposure, severetravel, hard work, and hardship, of which no word of complaint has everpassed their lips. There have been only gratitude and joy, that theycould do something in a cause at once so great and so terrible. 

While this was in progress, a dispatch came to me at Constantinople fromDr. Shepard of Aintab, whose tireless hands had done the work of a scoreof men, saying that fevers, both typhoid and typhus, of the mostvirulent nature, had broken out in Arabkir, two or three days north ofHarpoot; could I send doctors and help? Passing the word on to Dr. Hubbell at Harpoot, prompt and courageous action was taken by him. It issomething to say that from a rising pestilence with a score of deathsdaily, in five weeks, himself and his assistants left the city in anormally healthful condition, the mortality ceasing at once under theircare and treatment. 

During this time the medical relief for the cities of Zeitoun and Marashwas in charge of Dr. Ira Harris, of Tripoli, who reached there March18th. The report of the consuls had placed the number of deaths from thefour contagious diseases at one hundred a day. This would be quiteprobable when it is considered that ten thousand were smitten with theprevailing diseases, and that added to this were the crowded conditionof the patients, the thousands of homeless refugees who had flocked fromtheir forsaken villages, the lack of all comforts, of air, cleanliness, and a state of prolonged starvation. 

Dr. Harris's first report to me was that he was obliged to set the soupkettles boiling and feed his patients before medicine could be retained. My reply was a draft for two hundred liras (something over eight hundreddollars) with the added dispatch: "Keep the pot boiling; let us knowyour wants. " The further reports show from this time an astonishinglysmall number of deaths. The utmost care was taken by all our expeditionsto prevent the spread of the contagion and there is no record of itsever having been carried out of the cities, where it was found, eitherat Zeitoun, Marash, or Arabkir. Lacking this precaution, it might wellhave spread throughout all Asia Minor, as was greatly feared by theanxious people. 

On the twenty-fourth of May, Dr. Harris reported the disease asovercome. His stay being no longer needed, he returned to his greatcharge in Tripoli, with the record of a medical work and success behindhim never surpassed if ever equaled. The lives he had saved were enoughto gain Heaven's choicest diadem. Never has America cause to be morejustly proud and grateful than when its sons and daughters in foreignlands perform deeds of worth like that. 

The closing of the medical fields threw our entire force into thegeneral relief of the vilayet of Harpoot, which the relievingmissionaries had well named their "bottomless pit. "

The apathy to which the state of utter nothingness, together with theirgrief and fear, had reduced the inhabitants, was by no means thesmallest difficulty to be overcome. Here was realized the great dangerfelt by all--that of continued alms-giving, lest they settle down into acondition of pauperism, and thus finally starve, from the inability ofthe world at large to feed them. The presence of a strange body offriendly working people, coming thousands of miles to help them, awakened a hope and stimulated the desire to help themselves. 

It was a new experience that these strangers _dared_ to come to them. Although the aforetime home lay a heap of stone and sand, and nothingbelonging to it remained, still the land was there, and when seed toplant the ground and the farming utensils and cattle were brought towork it with, the faint spirit revived, the weak, hopeless handsunclasped, and the farmer stood on his feet again. 

When the cities could no longer provide the spades, hoes, plows, picksand shovels, and the crude iron and steel to make these was purchasedand taken to them, the blacksmith found again his fire and forge andtraveled weary miles with his bellows on his back. The carpenter againswung his hammer and drew his saw. The broken and scatteredspinning-wheels and looms from under the storms and _débris_ of winteragain took form and motion, and the fresh bundles of wool, cotton, flax, and hemp in the waiting widow's hand brought hopeful visions of therevival of industries which should not only clothe but feed. 

At length, in early June, the great grain-fields of Diarbekir, Farkin, and Harpoot valleys, planted the year before, grew golden and bowedtheir heavy spear-crowned heads in waiting for the sickle. But nosickles were there, no scythes, not even knives. It was a new and sorrysight for our full-handed American farming men to see those poor, hardAsiatic hands trying, by main strength, to break the tough straw or pullit by the roots. This state of things could not continue, and theirsorrow and pity gave place to joy when they were able to drain thecities of Harpoot and Diarbekir of harvest tools, and turned the work ofall the village blacksmiths on to the manufacture of sickles andscythes, and of flint workers upon the rude threshing machines. 

They have told me since their return that the pleasantest memories leftto them were of those great valleys of golden grain, bending and fallingbefore the harvesters, men and women, each with the new, sharp sickle orscythe, the crude threshing planks, the cattle trampling out the grain, and the gleaners in the rear as in the days of Abraham and Moab. Godgrant that somewhere among them was a kind-hearted king of the harvestwho gave orders to let some sheaves fall. 

Even while this saving process was going on another condition no lessimperative arose. These fields must be replanted or starvation must besimply delayed. Only the strength of their old-time teams of oxen couldbreak up the hard sod and prepare for the fall sowing. Not ananimal--ox, cow, horse, goat, or sheep--had been left. All had beendriven to the Kourdish Mountains. When Mr. Wood's telegram came, callingfor a thousand oxen for the hundreds of villages, I thought of our notrapidly swelling bank account, and all that was needed everywhere else, and replied accordingly. 

When in return came the telegram from the Rev. Dr. Gates, president ofHarpoot College, the live, active, practical man of affairs, whosejudgment no one could question, saying that the need of oxen wasimperative, that unless the ground could be plowed before it dried andhardened it could not be done at all, and the next harvest would belost, also that "Mr. Wood's estimate was moderate, " the financialsecretary was directed to send a draft for five thousand liras(twenty-two thousand dollars) to the care of the Rev. Dr. Gates, to bedivided among the three expeditions for the purchase of cattle and theprogress of the harvest of 1897. 

As the sum sent would be immediately applied, the active services of themen would be no longer required, and directions went with the remittanceto report in person at Constantinople. 

Unheard-of toil, care, hard riding day and night, with risk of life, were all involved in the carrying out of that order. Among theuncivilized and robber bands of Kourds, the cattle that had been stolenand driven off must be picked up, purchased, and brought back to thewaiting farmer's field. There were routes so dangerous that a brigandchief was selected by those understanding the situation as the safestescort for our men. Perhaps the greatest danger encountered was in theregion of Farkin, beyond Diarbekir, where the official escort had notbeen waited for, and the leveled musket of the faithless guide told thedifference. 

At length the task was accomplished. One by one the expeditions closedand withdrew, returning by Sivas and Samsoun, and coming out by theBlack Sea. With the return of the expeditions we closed the field. Butcontributors would be glad to know that subsequent to this, beforeleaving Constantinople, funds from both the New York and Bostoncommittees came to us amounting to about fifteen thousand dollars. Thiswas happily placed with Mr. W. W. Pect, treasurer of the Board ofForeign Missions at Stamboul, to be used subject to our order; and withour concurrence it was employed in the building of little houses in theinterior, as a winter shelter and protection, where all had beendestroyed. 

The appearance of our men on their arrival at Constantinople confirmedthe impression that they had not been recalled too soon. They had goneout through the snows and ice of winter, and without change or rest hadcome back through the scorching suns of midsummer--five months of rough, uncivilized life, faring and sharing with their beasts of burden, well-nigh out of communication with the civilized world, but never outof danger. It seemed but just to themselves and to others who might needthem, that change and rest be given them. 

It would scarcely be permissible to express in words the obligation toour American Minister, Hon. A. W. Terrell, at Constantinople, withoutwhose unremitting care and generous aid our work could not have beenaccomplished. And, indeed, so many were the duties of that difficult anddelicate field that it seemed the help of no one hand or heart could bespared. We felt that we had them all; from the palace of the Sultan tobeloved Robert College, from the American Legation to the busy rooms ofthe American Board, with its masterly treasurer, Peet, were the sameoutstretched hands of protection and care for our little band. 

They knew we had taken our lives in our hands to come to them, and withno thought of ourselves. We had done the best we knew to accomplish themission so persistently sought of us in our own country. 

That our work had been acceptable to those who received its results, weknew. They had never failed to _make_ us know. If also acceptable to Himwho gave us the courage, protection, and strength to perform it, we needcare for little more. 

Funds to the total amount of $116, 326. 01 were cabled us by Mr. SpencerTrask's committee, all of which were placed in the hands of Mr. W. W. Peet, treasurer of the missionary board at Constantinople. All properreceipts were given and taken, and feeling that we had faithfully andsuccessfully accomplished the work we had been asked to perform, weclosed the field, and prepared to return to America. 

Some days of physical rest were needful for the men of the expeditionsafter reaching Constantinople before commencing their journey ofthousands of miles for home, worn as they were by exposure and incessantlabor--physical and mental. I need not attempt to say with whatgratitude I welcomed back these weary, brown-faced men and officersfrom a field so difficult and so perilous; none the less did thegratitude go out to my faithful and capable secretary, who had toiledearly and late, never leaving for a day, striving with tender heart thatall should go well. 

And when the first greetings were over, the full chorus of manlyvoices--"Home Again, " "Sweet Land of Liberty, " "Nearer My God toThee"--that rolled out through the open windows of the Red Crossheadquarters in Constantinople fell on the listening ears of Christianand Moslem alike, and though the tones were new and strange, all feltthat to some one, somewhere, they meant more than the mere notes ofmusic. 

VIII

CUBA

1898

On our return to "civilization" we were rejoiced to find that as aresult of our three months' labors, the former tumult of Armenia haddied away into a peaceful echo, but a new murmur fast growing to clamorhad taken its place. Cuba had entered the ceaseless arena of American, gladiatorial, humanitarian contest. The cruelties of the reconcentradosystem of warfare had become apparent, and methods of relief wereuppermost in the minds of all persons. 

These methods were twofold and might well be classed under two distinctheads: those who for mere pity's sake sought simple relief; those whowith a further forecast sought the removal of a cause as well as itseffect, and "Cuba Libre" was its muffled cry. They asked money for armsas well as bread, and the struggle between the two held the country ina state of perplexed contradiction for months running into years. 

Our great-hearted President asked simple aid and was distressed at thedoubtful response. At length he suggested and we proffered the aid ofthe Red Cross on a call to the country, and the establishment of the"Central Cuban Relief Committee" in New York, within three days, was theresult. 

The activity and success of that committee are too fresh in the minds ofall our people to require the smallest description from me. Too muchpraise can not be given to our Auxiliary Societies from the Atlantic tothe Pacific for the splendid work in the camps at home, in Cuba, PortoRico, and in the care of our soldiers in transit to the Philippines. Their full and complete reports show the great work accomplished. Thememory of the work of the busy men and tireless women who joined heartand hand in this Heaven-sent task still brings tears to the eyes of anation at its recall. 

The service assigned me by our anxious President, and gladly accepted, was the distribution on the pitiful fields of Cuba. These scenes Iwould not recall. The starving mothers and motherless babes, thehomelessness and squalor, the hopelessness and despair, are beyond allwords and all conception, save to those who saw and lived among them. Itis past and let it rest. 

Then followed the declaration of hostilities, the blockade, the fleetsof war, and the stately, glistening white ships of relief that dottedthe sea--our navy after forty years of peace again doing service in itsown waters--and among them one inconspicuous, black-hulled sea-goingcraft, laden with food for the still famishing reconcentrados, when theycould be reached. 

Day after day, in its weary, waiting cruise, it watched out for anopening to that closed-in suffering island, till at length the thunderof the guns, Siboney, San Juan, opened the track, and the wounded troopsof our own army, hungering on their own fields, were the reconcentradosof the hour. 

Tampa became the gathering-point of the army. Its camps filled likemagic, first with regulars, then volunteers, as if the fiery torch ofDuncraigen had spread over the hills and prairies of America. The greatships gathered in the waters, the transports, with decks dark with humanlife, passed in and out, and the battleships of the sea held ever theircommanding sway. It seemed a strange thing, this gathering for war. Thirty years of peace had made it strange to all save the veterans ofthe days of the old war, long passed into history. Could it be possiblethat we were to learn this anew? Were men again to fall, and women weep?Were the youth of this generation to gain that experience their fathershad gained, to live the war-lives they had lived, and die the deathsthey had died?

At length the fleet moved on, and we prepared to move with, or ratherafter it. The quest on which it had gone, and the route it had taken, bordered something on the mystery shrouding the days when Shermanmarched to the sea. Where were the Spanish ships? What would be theresult when found and met? Where were we to break that Cuban wall andlet us in?

Always present in our minds were the food we carried, the willing handsthat waited, and the perishing thousands that needed. We knew the greathospital ships were fitting for the care of the men of both Army andNavy. Surely they could have no need of us. 

We had taken possession of our ship at Key West on the 29th of April. Itwas now the 20th of June and the national records of two countries atleast will always give the history of those days. It is our part to keepas clearly, truthfully, and kindly as possible, the record of the littlethat fell to us to perform in this great drama. 

Weighing anchor at Key West the State of Texas steamed for the openCaribbean, we having first taken the official advice of Commodore Remyto find Admiral Sampson and report to him. 

Sunrise of the twenty-fifth gave us our first view of the water atSantiago. Our transports and battle-ships were gathered there. Theadvice of Admiral Sampson was that we proceed to Guantanamo, where themarines had made a landing and were camped on the shore. There had beensome fighting at Guantanamo. The naval hospital ship Solace was there. 

Whoever has enjoyed this quiet, sheltered harbor, protected on threesides by beautiful wooded hills, will not require to be reminded of it. At six o'clock our anchor sunk in the deep, still waters and we had timeto look about and see the beginning of the war. The marines were campedalong the brow of a hill. On our right a camp of Cubans, and all aboutus the great war-ships with their guns, which told of forthcomingtrouble. Captain McCalla, who was in command of Guantanamo, had sent hiscompliments and a launch, leading us in to our place of anchorage. Thecourtesies of the navy so early commenced at Key West were continuedthroughout the war. 

By invitation of Commander Dunlap our entire company visited the Solacethe following day. If that beautiful ship or its management had leftroom on the records of our country's meed of gratitude, for more wordsof appreciative praise, I should be glad to speak them. Only thosefamiliar with the earliest history of the Red Cross in our country, andthe methods by which our navy alone--of all the Red Cross nations--hadgained even an approximately legal place, can judge what the sight ofthat first naval relief ship in American waters was to me. It broughtback so vividly the memory of the day in 1881 when President Arthurcalled me to him to carefully explain the conditions of the treaty whichhe had just signed, and that, Congress having generously included thenavy in its treaty for war, he would provide to hold it carefully untilthe probable widening of the original treaty would include the _navies_of the world, as well as the armies. 

Before the day closed news came to us of a serious character. The daringRough Riders had been hardly dealt by. Hamilton Fish and Allyn Capronhad been killed, and the wounded needed help. Wherever they might be, itmust be possible to reach them, and it was decided that no time be lost. Our men commenced work in the hold of the ship to get at medicalsupplies and dressings, and the captain took his orders. I find in mydiary at the close of that day the following paragraph: "It is the RoughRiders we go to, and the relief may be also rough, but it will be_ready_. A better body of helpers could scarcely be gotten together. "

Nine o'clock of the same night found us at Siboney, which can scarcelybe called a harbor, for it has no anchorage. The next morning atdaybreak we stood on deck to see the soldiers filing up over the hill, in heavy marching order, forming in lines by ones and twos, winding up, in and out among the hills, higher and higher. As we watched them theywere a moving line trailing on toward the clouds, till lost in the mist, and we could only think, as we looked at them, on how many and on which, is set the mark of death? He knew no more than we--poor fellow--andwith his swinging, steady gait, toils up and up and waits for--he knowsnot what. 

The hospitals, both American and Cuban, located on the shore just to theright of us, were visited by our men that same evening. Some of theirsurgeons called on us. All seemed interested in the Red Cross, but nonethought that a woman nurse would be in place in a soldiers'hospital--indeed, very much out of place. I suggested that that decisionwas hard for me, for I had spent a great deal of time in soldiers'hospitals myself. They appeared to understand that perfectly, but thereseemed to be a _later_ line which could not be crossed. 

The Cubans who had just come into camp expressed a desire for anyassistance we could give them. They would be glad to have the Red CrossSisters in their little hospital, but begged us to wait just a day untilit could be put in better order. The Sisters were not the persons togrant that day of preparation. 

On the contrary they at once went to work, thoroughly cleaned the littlethree-room building--Garcia's abandoned headquarters, to be used as ahospital--and when the day closed the transformation showed clean rooms, clean cots, and the grateful occupants wondering whether Heaven itselfcould be more comfortable, or anything more desirable than the palatablefood prepared for them by the Sisters. 

Three days later the following letter was received:

"To MISS CLARA BARTON, President, "American National Red Cross:

"I have the honor to request your assistance in caring for the patientsin a so-called hospital near the landing at this point. 

"The orders are to the effect that all patients now under treatment onthe shore shall be transferred to the Iroquois and Olivette, but thefacilities for carrying out this order are apparently inadequate. Inorder that the division hospital may remain unhampered for the care ofthe wounded in the engagement about to take place, it is necessary forme to request this favor of you, and I trust that you may find itpossible to comply with said request. 

"Your obedient servant, "LOUIS A. LE GARDE, "Major and Surgeon, U. S. A. , CommandingHospital. "

To this the following reply was immediately returned:

"Steamship State of Texas, "SIBONEY, SANTIAGO DE CUBA, _June 30, 1898_. 

"DR. LOUIS A. LE GARDE, "Major and Surgeon, U. S. A. , Commanding Hospital. 

"Major: Permit me to express the pleasure given me by your letterinviting the assistance of the persons here under my direction in thecare of the sick and wounded of the engagement about to take place. Although not here as a hospital ship by any means--not legitimatelyfitted for the work--still we have some hospital supplies, a fewintelligent workers, skill, experience, the willingness to serve, thereadiness to obey, and I believe the true spirit of the Red Cross, thatseeks to help humanity wherever its needs exist. I send them to you inthe hope that they may be of service. 

"Cordially yours, "CLARA BARTON, "President, American National Red Cross. "

Our surgeons and assistants went on shore, where Dr. Le Garde and Dr. Lesser secured a small house, and in a few hours this had undergone thesame transformation and by the same hands as the Cuban hospital. The RedCross flag was hoisted, Dr. Lesser placed in charge, and scores of oursoldiers who had been lying on the filthy floors of an adjacentbuilding, with no food but army rations, were carried over, placed inclean cots, and given proper food. From that on, no distinction wasmade, the Red Cross flag floating over both the American and Cubanhospitals. 

A few feet away, all the available army tents were put up as additionalaccommodation for the "wounded in the engagement about to take place. "It did take place the following day, and, as will be well remembered, inthose two days, Friday and Saturday, the first and second of July, thetents were more than filled with wounded in the battle of San Juan Hill. Three of the five Sisters went into the operating tent, and with thesurgeons worked for thirty hours with only a few moments' rest now andthen for a cup of coffee and a cracker or piece of bread. We heardnothing more about a woman nurse being out of place in a soldiers'hospital. 

On Saturday evening, the second day of the San Juan battle, a slip ofpaper with these penciled words was brought to the door of the hospital:

"Send food, medicines, anything. Seize wagons from the front fortransportation. 

"SHAFTER. "

The call for help was at once sent over to the State of Texas, and weworked all night getting out supplies and sending them ashore with aforce of Cubans, only too glad to work for food. 

I wish I could make apparent how difficult a thing it was to getsupplies from our ship to the shore in a surf which, after ten o'clockin the morning, allowed no small boats to touch even the bit of a pierthat was run out without breaking either the one or the other, andnothing in the form of a lighter save two dilapidated flat-boatpontoons. These had been broken and cast away by the engineer corps, picked up by ourselves, mended by the Cubans, and put in condition tofloat alongside of our ship, and receive perhaps three or four tons ofmaterial. This must then be rowed or floated out to the shore, run ontothe sand as far as possible, the men jumping into the water from knee towaist deep, pulling the boat up from the surf, and getting the materialon land. And this was what was meant by loading the "seized wagons fromthe front" and getting food to the wounded. After ten o'clock in the dayeven this was impossible, and we must wait until the calm of threeo'clock next morning to commence work again and go through the samestruggle to get something to load the wagons for that day. Our supplieshad been gotten ashore, and among the last, rocking and tossing in ourlittle boat, went ourselves, landing on the pier, which by that time wasbreaking in two, escaping a surf which every other moment threatened toenvelop one from feet to head, we reached the land. 

Our "seized" wagons had already gone on, loaded with our best hospitalsupplies--meal, flour, condensed milk, malted milk, tea, coffee, sugar, dried fruits, canned fruits, canned meats, and such other things as wehad been able to get out in the haste of packing--entirely filling thetwo wagons already in advance. 

An ambulance had been spoken of. We waited a little while by theroadside, but the ambulance did not appear. Then, halting a wagon loadedwith bales of hay, we begged a ride of the driver, and our little party, Dr. And Mrs. Gardner, James McDowell, and myself, took our seats on thehay and made our way to the front, Dr. Hubbell following afoot. Fourhours' ride brought us to the First Division Hospital of the Fifth ArmyCorps--General Shafter's headquarters. 

The sight that met us on going into the so-called hospital grounds wassomething indescribable. The land was perfectly level; no drainagewhatever; covered with long, tangled grass; skirted by trees, brush, and shrubbery; a few little dog-tents not much larger than could havebeen made of an ordinary table-cloth thrown over a short rail, and underthese lay huddled together the men fresh from the field or from theoperating-tables, with no covering over them save such as had clung tothem through their troubles, and in the majority of cases no blanketunder them. 

Those who had come from the tables, having been compelled to leave allthe clothing they had, as too wet, muddy, and bloody to be retained, were entirely nude, lying on the stubble grass, the sun fitfully dealingwith them, sometimes clouding over and again streaming out in a blazeabove them. Fortunately, among our supplies were some bolts ofunbleached cotton, and this we cut in sheet lengths, and the men of ourparty went about and covered the poor fellows, who lay there with noshelter either from the elements or the eyes of the passers-by. 

A half dozen bricks laid about a yard apart, a couple of pieces ofwagon-tire laid across these, so low and so near the ground that no fireof any strength or benefit could be made--the bits of wet wood putunder crosswise, with the smoke streaming a foot out on either side, twokettles of coffee or soup, and a small frying-pan with some meat init--appeared to be the cook-house for these men. They told us there wereabout eight hundred men under the tents and lying in the grass, and moreconstantly coming in. 

After a few moments' consultation as to the best methods to be pursued, we too gathered stones and bricks and constructed a longer, higherfireplace, got more wagon-tires, found the water, and soon our greatagate kettles of seven and ten gallons were filled. 

The rain, that had been drizzling more or less all day, increased. Oursupplies were taken from the wagons, a piece of tarpaulin found toprotect them, and as the fire began to blaze and the water to heat, Mrs. Gardner and I found the way into the bags and boxes of flour, salt, milk, and meal, and got material for the first gallons of gruel. I hadnot thought to ever make gruel again over a camp-fire. I can not say howfar it carried me back in the lapse of time, or really where, or who Ifelt that I was. 

It did not seem to be me, and still I seemed to know how to do it. 

When the bubbling contents of our kettle thickened and grew white withthe condensed milk, and we began to give it out--putting it into thehands of men detailed as nurses, and our own men, to take around to thepoor sufferers, shivering and naked in the rain--I felt that perhaps itwas not in vain that history had repeated itself. When the nurses cameback and told us of the surprise with which it was received, and thetears that rolled down the sun-burned, often bloody face, into the cupas the poor fellow drank his hot gruel, and asked where it came from, who sent it, and said it was the first food he had tasted in three days(for they had gone into the fight hungry), I felt that it was again thesame old story and wondered what gain there had been in the last thirtyyears. 

The fires burned, the gruel steamed and boiled--bucket after bucket wentout--until those eight hundred men had each a cup of gruel and knew thathe could have another and as many as he wanted. The day waned, thedarkness came, and still the men were unsheltered, uncovered, naked, and wet--scarcely a groan, no word of complaint--no man said he was notwell treated. 

The operating-tables were full of the wounded. Man after man was takenoff, brought on his litter and laid beside other men, and somethinggiven him to keep the little life in his body that seemed fast oozingout. All night it went on. It grew cold--for naked men bittercold--before morning. We had no blankets, nothing to cover them, onlythe strips of cotton cloth. 

Early in the morning ambulances started, and such of the wounded ascould be loaded in were taken to be carried back over that rough, pitiless road, down to Siboney, to the hospitals there--that we had donethe best we could toward fitting up--where our hundred cots, hundred andfifty blankets had gone, cups, spoons, and delicacies, that would helpto strengthen these poor, fainting men, if they could get there, andwhere also the Sisters would care for them. 

They brought man after man, stretcher after stretcher, to the waitingambulances, and they took out seventeen who had died in the night, unattended, save by the nurse. 

More supplies arrived, and this time came large tarpaulins, moreutensils, more food, and more things to make it a little comfortable. Weremoved our first kitchens across the road, up alongside the headquartertent of Major Wood, in charge of the camp. Words can not do justice tohis kind-hearted generosity. He strove in every way to do all that couldbe done, and the night before had given us a small tent in which we hadhuddled from the pouring rain, for a couple of hours, in the middle ofthe night, the water rushing through like a rivulet. 

The tarpaulins were put over supplies, a new fireplace made nearus--magnificent in its dimensions--shelter given for boxes and barrelsthat by this time had accumulated about us, and there was even somethingthat looked like a table, on which Mrs. Gardner prepared her delicacies. 

Early in the day there came to our improvised headquarters an officer inkhaki uniform showing hard service, and a bandanna handkerchief hangingfrom his hat, to protect the back of his head and neck from the fiercerays of the sun. 

It was Colonel Roosevelt, and we were very glad to meet the gallantleader of the "Rough Riders. " After a few moments conversation he said:

"I have some sick men with the regiment who refuse to leave it. Theyneed such delicacies as you have here, which I am ready to pay for outof my own pocket. Can I buy them from the Red Cross?"

"Not for a million dollars, " Dr. Gardner replied. 

"But my men need these things, " he said, his tone and face expressinganxiety. "I think a great deal of my men. I am proud of them. "

"And we know they are proud of you, Colonel. But we can't sell Red Crosssupplies, " answered Dr. Gardner. 

"Then, how can I get them? I must have proper food for my sick men, " hesaid. 

"Just ask for them, Colonel, " replied Dr. Gardner. 

"Oh, " he said, his face suddenly lighting up with a bright smile; "thenI do ask for them. "

"All right, Colonel; what is your list?"

The list included malted milk, condensed milk, oatmeal, cornmeal, cannedfruits, dried fruits, rice, tea, chocolate, and even prepared beefsteakand vegetables, and other things good for men who could not eat armyrations. 

"Now, Colonel, when will you send for these supplies?" asked Dr. Gardner. "They will be ready any time. "

"Lend me a sack and I'll take them right along, " he answered withcharacteristic decision. 

Mrs. Gardner at once looked up a sack, and when filled it must have helda good many pounds of supplies. Before we had recovered from oursurprise, the incident was closed by the future President of the UnitedStates slinging the big sack over his shoulders, striding off, and outof sight through the jungle. 

The gruel still remained the staple, but malted milk, chocolate, rice, and tea had come in, and little by little various things were added bywhich our _menage_ quite resembled a hotel. The wounded were still beingtaken away by ambulance and wagon, assorted and picked over like fruit. Those who would bear transportation were taken away, the others leftwhere they were. By the third day our patients seemed strong enough thatwe might risk giving them food as solid as rice, and the great kettleswere filled with that, cooked soft, mixed with condensed and maltedmilk. The number of wounded grew less day by day, and better care couldbe taken of them. 

At Siboney, the great needs of the hour were met by the little band ofsurgeons and nurses, working night and day. The following is from aletter in the Times-Herald, now Record-Herald, of Chicago, by Miss JanetJennings, who volunteered her service in the hospital. One gets fromthis simple, direct picture, a better appreciation of that heroism whichlives after excitement, which survives the rush and shouting of assault, which is sustained without comradeship:

"SIBONEY, _July 8, 1898_. 

"Above hospital tents Red Cross flags are flying, and here is the reallife--the suffering and heroism. Everybody who can do even so little ascarry a cup of water lends willing hands to help the wounded. Most ofthe wounded are from the first day's engagement, when the infantry wasordered to lead the attack on Santiago, instead of using the artillery. 

"And it all came at once--a quick blow--with little or no preparationto meet it. I mentioned in a former letter the lack of preparation onthe part of the army to care for the sick. There was then almostnothing--no cots, bedding or proper food, for less than one hundred sickmen. 

"Two days later, when the wounded came in, the needs of the hour wereoverwhelming. The situation can not be described. Thousands of our menhad been hurried to the front to fight. It was well understood that itwould be a hard fight. The dead would need only burial, but the woundedwould need care. And yet, with the exception of a limited number ofstretchers, a medicine-chest and a few bandages, no preparation had beenmade--neither cots nor food--practically no hospital supplies. 

"It is not strange that surgeons were desperate and nurses distressed. The force of each was wholly inadequate. The exact number of wounded maynever be known. But the estimate at this time is about 1, 000wounded--some 1, 500 killed and wounded. 

"Wounded men who made their way down on foot eight miles over the rough, hilly road will never know just how their strength held out. Others werebrought down in army wagons by the load, as few ambulances were athand. Fortunately, there were some tents here that had been used bytroops before going to the front. Under these hay was spread and coveredwith blankets, and the improvised hospital was ready. One tent was takenfor operating-tables, and the work of surgeons and nurses began. Theyworked night and day for forty-eight hours, with only brief intervalsfor coffee and hard-tack. 

"Wounded men had to wait for hours before bullets could be extracted andwounds dressed. But there was no word of complaint--only silent, patientsuffering, borne with a courage that was sublime. As the woundedcontinued to come in, tent-room gave out, and hay with blankets wereplaced outside, and to these 'beds' the less severely wounded wereassigned. It was evident that the medical department of the army hadfailed absolutely to send hospital supplies, or by this time they wouldhave been landed. As it was, the surgeons turned to the Red Cross ship'State of Texas' for help, and the supplies originally intended for thestarving Cubans were sent ashore for our wounded. 

"Miss Barton had been urged and advised to wait until the army openedand made the way safe to land supplies for reconcentrados and refugees. But she had foreseen the situation to a certain degree and followed thearmy as quickly as possible--to wait for the emergency, rather than havethe emergency wait for her. The 'State of Texas' was here a week beforethe attack on Santiago. 

"While surgeons and nurses were probing for bullets and dressing wounds, a force of men on the Red Cross ship worked half the night getting outcots and blankets, food and bandages, and at daylight next morning thesupplies were landed, taking advantage of the smooth sea between fourand nine o'clock, as later in the day the high surf makes it extremelydifficult for landings. There were six tables in the operating-tent andeight surgeons. In twenty-four hours the surgeons had operated upon anddressed the wounds of 475 men. Four Red Cross sisters, trained nurses, assisted the surgeons. They were Sister Bettina, wife of Dr. Lesser, surgeon-in-chief of the Red Cross; Sister Minna, Sister Isabel, andSister Blanche. Their knowledge of surgery, skill, and nerve were arevelation to the army surgeons. These young women, all under thirty, went from one operating-table to another, and, whatever was the natureof the wound or complication, proved equal to the emergency. 

"In the Red Cross Hospital, across the way, Sister Anna was in chargeof the sick men, turned over to the Red Cross two days before, when armysurgeons with troops were all ordered to the front. With 475 wounded mento feed there was not a camp-kettle to be found in which gruel could beprepared, coffee made or anything cooked, not a kettle of any sort to befurnished by the army. The whole camp outfit at Tampa in the way ofcooking utensils must have been left behind. 

"But there was an overruling Providence when the 'State of Texas' wasloaded for Cuba. So far everything needed has been found in the hold ofthis old ship, which deserves to have and will have a credit page in thehistory of the war in Cuba. There were kettles, charcoal braziers, andcooking utensils carried over to the Red Cross Hospital. To preparegruel, rice, coffee, and various other proper and palatable dishes forforty or fifty sick men by the slow process of a charcoal brazier, tea-kettle, and boiler is by no means easy cooking. But to prepare foodfor 475 wounded men, some of whom had had nothing to eat for twenty-fourhours, cooking over a little charcoal pot is something that one musttake a 'hand in' to fully appreciate. 

"There was the feeling as if one were dazed and unnatural to hearAmerican soldiers, men from comfortable homes, literally begging for'just a spoonful of gruel. ' The charcoal pot burned night and day, gallons of gruel were made and quantities of rice cooked until thegreatest stress had passed. It was no time to stand on trained service, and everybody, man or woman, was ready to lend a hand. 

"A striking feature of the first day's engagement was the number of menwounded in the head, arm, and upper part of the body. Some of thesecases, the most serious, were taken into the Red Cross Hospital, wherethey received the most skilful and gentle nursing. 

"Two days' steady strain began to show on the Sisters. 

"The strain had been the greater because there were no facilities foranything like a regular meal short of the ship, reached by a long, hardtramp in the sand, then a row over the tossing waves. But nobody thoughtof meals. The one thing was to feed and nurse the 500 wounded and sickmen. Human endurance, however, has its limit, and unless the Sisterscould get a little rest they would give out. I went on duty fortwenty-four hours, at night, with the assistance of one man, taking careof forty patients, fever, measles, and dysentery cases, and half a dozenbadly wounded men. Among the latter was Captain Mills, of the FirstCavalry, and William Clark, a colored private in the Twenty-fifthInfantry, regulars. They were brought over from the hospital tents andplaced on cots out on the little porch, where there was just room topass between the cots. 

"Their wounds were very similar--in the head--and of such a character asto require cool applications to the eyes constantly. Ice was scarce andworth its weight in gold, for the lives of these men as well as othersdepended chiefly on cool applications to the eyes, with as uniformtemperature as possible. We had one small piece of ice, carefullywrapped in a blanket. There never was a small piece of ice that went sofar. If I were to tell the truth about it nobody would believe me. 

"Never in my whole life, I think, have I wished for anything so much asI wished for plenty of ice that night. It was applied by chipping insmall bits, laid in thin, dry cotton cloth, folded over in just theright size and flat, to place across the eyes and forehead, enough of itto be cold, but not heavy, on the wounds. 

"The ears of the sick are strangely acute. Whenever the sick men heardthe sound of chipping ice they begged for ice-water; even the smallestbit of ice in a cup of water was begged with an eagerness that waspitiful. I felt conscience-smitten. But it was a question of saving theeyes of the wounded men, and there was no other way. To make the icelast till morning I stealthily chipped it off so the sick men would nothear the sound. 

"At midnight a surgeon came over from his tent ward with a little pieceof ice not larger than his hand. I do not know his name, but it does notmatter, it is inscribed above. 'This is all we can spare, ' he said. 'Take it. You must keep those wounds cool at all hazards. I have anothercase very like these--a man wounded in the head. I want to bring himover here, where he will be sure of exactly the same nursing. His lifedepends on the care he gets in the next twenty-four hours. Have you avacant cot?'

"There was not a vacant cot, but we could make room for one on the porchif he could find the cot. He thought he could, and went back, taking theprecious piece of ice that he really needed more than we did. In thecourse of a half hour the surgeon returned to say it was impossible toget a cot anywhere, and the wounded man must be left where he was in thetent, at least until morning. 

"And so it went on through the long night--the patient suffering of thesick men, the heroism of the wounded, all fearing to give any trouble, desiring not to do so, find grateful for the smallest attention. 

"The courage that faces death on the battlefield or calmly awaits it inthe hospital is not a courage of race or color. Two of the bravest men Iever saw were here, almost side by side on the little porch--CaptainMills and Private Clark--one white, the other black. They were woundedalmost at the same time, and in the same way. The patient suffering andheroism of the black soldier was fully equal to that of the Anglo-Saxon. It was quite the same, the gentleness and appreciation. They were astudy, these men so widely apart in life, but here strangely close andalike on the common ground of duty and sacrifice. They receivedprecisely the same care; each fed like a child, for with their bandagedeyes they were as helpless as blind men. When the ice pads were renewedon Captain Mills's eyes the same change was made on Private Clark'seyes. There was no difference in their beds or food. Neither uttered aword of complaint. The nearest to a regret expressed by Captain Millswas a heavy sigh, followed by the words: 'Oh, we were not ready. Ourarmy was not prepared. '

"Of himself he talked cheerfully, strong, and hopeful. 'I think I shallgo home with the sight of one eye, ' he said. That was all. 

"In the early part of the night he was restless, his brain was active, cool, and brave as he might be. The moonlight was very bright, a floodof silver, seen only in the tropics. Hoping to divert him I said: 'Themoonlight is too bright, captain. I will put up a paper screen so youcan get to sleep. '

"He realized at once the absurdity and the ludicrous side, and with anamused smile replied: 'But you know I can't see the moonlight. '

"I said it was time to get more ice for his head and half stumbledacross the porch, blinded by tears. When told who his nearest neighborwas, Captain Mills expressed great sympathy for Private Clark and paid ahigh tribute to the bravery of the colored troops and their faithfulperformance of duty. 

"Private Clark talked but little. He would lie apparently asleep untilthe pain in his head became unbearable. Then he would try to sit up, always careful to keep the ice-pad on his eyes over the bandage. 

"'What can I do for you, Clark?' I would ask, anxious to relieve hispain. 

"'Nothing, thank you, ' he would answer. 'It's very nice and comfortablehere. But it's only the misery in my head--the misery is awful. '

"Poor fellow! there was never a moan, merely a little sigh now andthen, but always that wonderful patience that seemed to me not without atouch of divine philosophy, complete acceptance. 

"I have mentioned these two men, not as exceptional in bravery, but toillustrate the rule of heroism, and because they were among the patientsunder my immediate care that night. It was a strange night picture--apicture that could never be dimmed by time but live through all theyears of one's life. 

"After midnight a restful atmosphere pervaded the hospital and theblessing of sleep fell upon the suffering men, one by one. In the littleinterval of repose I dropped into an old chair on the porch, looked awayto the beautiful mountains sharply outlined in the moonlight, and thesea like waves of silver, the camp on the shore; near by thirty or fortyhorses standing motionless. Then the hospital tents, with now and thenthe flickering light of a candle; in the background the cliffs, withhere and there a Spanish blockhouse. Over all the tragedy of life anddeath, the pain and sorrow, there was the stillness of a peacefulnight--a stillness broken only by the sound of the surf brought back onthe cool breeze, the cool, refreshing breeze, for which we all thankedGod. "

Later on, as will be remembered, Miss Jennings went North--a volunteernurse on the transport Seneca. The brave men whose lives hung in thebalance that night--with little hope that, if life were spared, theywould ever see again--recovered, but each with the loss of an eye. Aftera long furlough Private Clark returned to his regiment. Captain Mills, now General Mills, is the Superintendent of the West Point MilitaryAcademy. 

Three times in the first week I went over those terrible roads from thefront to Siboney and return. Arriving at Siboney late one night, therewas no way I could get on board the State of Texas and I was obliged toremain on shore. The Postmaster insisted that I occupy a room in thebuilding used for a post-office. Such a courtesy could not be refused, and against all feeling of acquiescence, and with a dread as if therewere something wrong about it, I allowed myself to be helped out of thewagon and entered the house. The Postmaster sat down and talked with mea little while. I thought he seemed ill. I had never met him before, butmy heart went out in sympathy for him. I feared I was taking his room, although he did not admit it. 

I was shown into a room where there was a cot, a table, and a candlewithout a stick, burning upon the table. The men went outside and laiddown upon the steps for the night. I laid down upon the cot, but it wasimpossible for me to remain there. Something constantly warned me toleave it. I got up, went to the door, looked out upon the night anddarkness, and waited for the gray of the morning. I went out and stoodupon the beach beside the sea and waited more and more, until finallysome of the men appeared, and I went with them down to the water. 

Six days later they told me that the rightful occupant of the cot--thePostmaster, who had seemed so ill--had died of a fever raging here thatthey called "yellow fever. " I had occupied his cot. I wonder who it wasthat so continually warned me that night to keep away from that room, away from the cot, away from all connected with it? "Yellow fever" wasnot then talked of. Did some one tell me? I do not know--but somethingtold me. 

The negotiations between General Shafter and the Spanish army atSantiago were going on. The flag of truce, that threatened every day tocome down, still floated. The Spanish soldiers had been led by theirofficers to believe that every man who surrendered--and the people aswell--would be butchered whenever the city should fall and the Americantroops should come in. But when General Shafter commenced to send backconvoys of captured Spanish officers, their wounds dressed, andcarefully placed on stretchers, borne under flags of truce to theSpanish lines at Santiago, and set down at the feet of General Toral, and when in astonishment that officer learned the object of the flag oftruce and sent companies of his soldiers to form in line and presentarms, while the cortege of wounded were borne through by Americantroops, a lesson was learned that went far toward the surrender of thatcity. 

I happen to know that it was not without some very natural homecriticism that General Shafter persisted in his course in the face ofthe time-honored custom of "hostages. " One can readily understand thatthe voluntary giving up of prisoners--officers at that--in view of animpending battle, might seem in the light of old-time army usages awaste, to characterize it by no harder term. It is possible that none ofthe officers in that field had ever read the Articles of the Treaty ofGeneva, or fully recalled that the treaty had become a law, or thattheir commander was acting in full accord with its wise and humaneprinciples. 

By this time the main talk of the camp was "yellow fever. " It was soondiscovered by the medical authorities that, from there having been atfirst one case of fever, there were now one hundred and sixteen, andthat a fever camp would probably be made there, and the wounded gottenaway. It was advisable then that we return to our ship and attempt, asfar as possible, to hold that free from contagion. I was earnestlysolicited to do this, in view of what was expected of our ship, and ofwhat was expected of us, that we not only protect ourselves but ourcargo and ship from all contamination and even suspicion. 

I faithfully promised to do so, and again called for an army wagon, leaving all supplies that were useful for the men in camp--sending to ElCaney what was most needed there--and taking only our personal effects, started for Siboney. In less than twenty minutes the rain was pouring onus and for two hours it fell as if from buckets. The water was from afoot and a half to two feet deep in the road as we passed along. At onetime our wagon careened, the mules were held up, and we waited to seewhether it should go over or could be brought out, the water a fewinches only from the top of the lower side. It was scarcely possible forus to stir, hemmed in as we were, but the men from the other wagonssprang to our wheels, hanging in the air on the upper side, and we weresimply saved by an inch. 

But like other things, this cleared away. We came into Siboney aboutthree o'clock, in a bright glare of sunshine, to find the town entirelyburned--all buildings gone or smoking--and a "yellow fever" hospitalestablished a mile and a half out from Siboney. 

All effort was made to hold our ship free from suspicion. The process ofreasoning leading to the conclusion that a solid cargo, packed in tightboxes in the hold of a ship, anchored at sea, could become infected ina day from the land or a passing individual, is indeed an intricateprocess. But we had some experience in this direction. Captain McCalla, in his repeated humane attempts to feed the refugees around Guantanamo, had called again for a hundred thousand rations, saying that if we couldbring them to him soon he could get them to the starving people in thewoods. We lost no time, but got the food out and started with it in thenight. On reaching Guantanamo we were met some distance out, called to, and asked if any one on our ship had been on shore at Siboney withinfour days; if so, our supplies could not be received. We took them away, leaving the starving to perish. 

The constantly recurring news of the surrender of Santiago was so wellestablished that we drew anchor, came up to the flag-ship, and sent thefollowing letter to Admiral Sampson:

"State of Texas, "_July 16, 1898_. 

"ADMIRAL SAMPSON, Commanding U. S. Fleet offSantiago, Flag-Ship New York. 

"Admiral: It is not necessary for me to explain to you my errand, norits necessity; both your good head and heart divine it more clearlythan any words of mine can represent. 

"I send this to you by one of our men who can tell all you wish to know. Mr. John Elwell has resided and done mercantile and shipping business inSantiago for the last seven years; is favorably known to all its people;has in his possession the keys of the best warehouses and residences inthe city, to which he is given welcome by the owners. He is the personappointed four months ago to help distribute this food, and did so withme until the blockade. There seems to be nothing in the way of gettingour twelve hundred tons of food into a Santiago warehouse and giving itintelligently to the thousands who _need_ and _own_ it. I have twentygood helpers with me. The New York committee is urging the discharge ofthe State of Texas, which has been raised in price to four hundreddollars a day. 

"If there is still more explanation needed, I pray you, Admiral, let mesee you. 

"Respectfuly and cordially, "CLARA BARTON. "

These were anxious days. While the world outside was making up warhistory, we thought of little beyond the terrible needs about us; ifSantiago had any people left, they must be in sore distress; and ElCaney, with its thirty thousand homeless, perishing sufferers, how couldthey be reached?

On that Sunday morning, never to be forgotten, the Spanish fleet cameout of Santiago Harbor, to meet death and capture. That afternoonLieutenant Capehart, of the flag-ship, came on board with the courteousreply of Admiral Sampson, that if we would come alongside the New Yorkhe would put a pilot on board. This was done, and we moved on throughwaters we had never traversed; past Morro Castle, long, low, silent, andgrim; past the wrecks of the Spanish ships on the right; past theMerrimac in the channel. We began to realize that we were alone, of allthe ships about the harbor there were none with us. The stillness of theSabbath was over all. The gulls sailed and flapped and dipped about us. The lowering summer sun shot long golden rays athwart the green hills oneither side and tinged the water calm and still. The silence grewoppressive as we glided along with scarce a ripple. We saw on the rightas the only moving thing, a long, slim yacht dart out from among thebushes and steal its way up half-hidden in the shadows. Suddenly it wasovertaken by either message or messenger, and like a collared houndglided back as if it had never been. 

Leaning on the rail, half lost in reverie over the strange, quiet beautyof the scene, the thought suddenly burst upon me--are we really goinginto Santiago, and alone? Are we not to be run out, and wait aside, andsalute with dipping colors, while the great battle-ships come up withmusic and banners and lead the way?

As far as the eye could reach no ship was in sight. Was this to remainso? Could it be possible that the commander who had captured a citydeclined to be the first to enter, that he would hold back his flag-shipand himself, and send forward and first a cargo of food on a plain ship, under direction of a woman? Did our commands, military or naval, holdmen great enough of soul for such action? It must be true, for thespires of Santiago rise before us, and turning to the score ofcompanions beside me I ask: "Is there any one here who will lead theDoxology?" In an instant the full rich voice of Enola Gardner rang out:"Praise God from whom all blessings flow. " By that time the chorus wasfull, and the tears on many a face told more plainly than words howgenuine was that praise, and when in response to a second suggestion "MyCountry 'Tis of Thee" swelled out on the evening air in the farewellrays of the setting sun, the State of Texas was nearing the dock, andquietly dropping her anchor she lay there through the silence of thenight in undisputed possession, facing a bare wind-swept wharf and thedeserted city of Santiago. 

Daybreak brought quiet to an end. The silence was no longer oppressive. A hundred and twenty stevedores lined up on the wharf for work andbreakfast. The dock had tracks, and trucks running to its openwarehouses. Boxes, barrels, and bales, pitched out of that ship, thrownonto the trucks and wheeled away, told the story of better days to come. It was something to see the lank, brawny little army of stevedores taketheir first breakfast in line, alongside of the ship. 

Later in the day the flag-ship brought Admiral Sampson and AdmiralSchley, who spent several hours with us. They had every opportunity tosee how our work was done, and if we were equal to unloading our ship. When they were about to leave Admiral Sampson was asked what orders ordirections he had for us. He replied: "You need no directions from me, but if any one troubles you let me know. "

The amiable pleasantries of these two gallant officers during that visitare a pleasure to recall. As I was, at an opportune moment, attemptingto express my appreciation and thanks to Admiral Sampson for thecourtesy of allowing us to precede him into Santiago, Admiral Schley, with that _naïveté_ and apt turn of expression so characteristic of him, in a half undertone side-remark, cautioned me with "Don't give him toomuch credit, Miss Barton; he was not quite sure how clear the channelmight be. Remember that was a trial trip. "

How sadly the recollection of that pleasant, memorable day has sincerecurred to me; brave, gallant brothers in arms, and in heart; knowingonly a soldier's duty; each holding his country's honor first, his ownlast; its glory his glory, and for himself seeking nothing more. Ah, people, press, and politics! How deal ye with your servants?

A message was received from General Shafter, who telegraphed from hisheadquarters; "The death rate at El Caney is terrible; can you sendfood?" The answer was to send the thirty thousand refugees of El Caneyat once back to Santiago; we were there and could feed them; that theState of Texas had still twelve hundred tons of supplies. 

The thirty thousand inhabitants of Santiago had been driven to El Caney, a village designed for five hundred. In two days all were called backand fed, ten thousand the first day, twenty thousand the second. Thencame our troops, and Santiago was lived and is remembered. Itshospitals, the ante-chamber to Montauk, are never to be forgotten. 

A general committee was formed, the city districted into sections, witha commissioner for each district, selected by the people themselvesliving there. Every family or person residing within the city wassupplied by the commissioner of that district, and all transientpersons were fed at the kitchens, the food being provided by the RedCross. 

The discharge of the cargo of the State of Texas commenced at sixo'clock Monday morning, July 18th. One hundred and twenty-fivestevedores were employed and paid in food issued as rations. Four dayslater the discharge was completed. 

Although the army had entered the city during the latter part of thattime, there had been no confusion, no groups of disorderly persons seen, no hunger in the city more than in ordinary times. We had done all thatcould be done to advantage at that time in Santiago. The United Statestroops had mainly left. The Spanish soldiers were coming in to theirwaiting ships, bringing with them all the diseases that unprovided anduncleanly camps would be expected to hold in store. Five weeks before wehad brought into Santiago all the cargo of the State of Texas exceptingthe hospital supplies, which had been used the month previous among ourown troops at Siboney, General Shafter's front, and El Caney during thedays of fighting. 

These were the last days of General Shafter in Santiago, who was, as hehad at all times been, the kind and courteous officer and gentleman. General Wood, who was made Governor of the Province of Santiago upon theday of surrender--alert, wise, and untiring, with an eye single to thegood of all--toiled day and night. 

The State of Texas steamed away to its northern home. Peace and plentycame. The reconcentrados we went in search of were never reached. Tothose who could not withstand, Heaven came. To those who could, _CubaLibre_. 

Later on, general efforts were made for the protection of the thousandsof orphans over the island, in which efforts the Red Cross joined. Butthe people of Cuba solved the question themselves--by a general adoptionin their own homes--and orphanages in Cuba became a thing of the past. 

Thus our work on that distressful field closed, after nearly two yearsof such effort as one would never desire to repeat. The financialmanagement of that field, so far as the Red Cross was concerned, wasdone under the attorneyship of the Central Cuban Relief Committee of NewYork, whose reports are models of accuracy and accountability, and towhich any person desiring information may be referred. 

Cuba was a hard field, full of heart-breaking memories. It gave thefirst opportunity to test the cooperation between the government and itssupplemental handmaiden, the Red Cross. That these relations might nothave been clearly understood at this initial date may well beappreciated, but that time and experience will remedy this may beconfidently hoped. 

Through all our discouragements the steady hand and calm approval of ourgreat head of the army and navy was our solace and our strength. Andwhen at length it was all over, his hand could trace for his message tohis people the following testimonial, what need had one even to rememberpast discouragements, however great? It was as if the hand of the martyrhad set its undying seal upon the brow of the American Red Cross. Whatgreater justification could it have? What greater riches could it crave?

"In this connection it is a pleasure for me to mention in terms ofcordial appreciation the timely and useful work of the American RedCross, both in relief measures preparatory to the campaigns, in sanitaryassistance at several of the camps of assemblage, and, later, under theable and experienced leadership of the president of the society, MissClara Barton, on the fields of battle and in the hospitals at the frontin Cuba. Working in conjunction with the governmental authorities andunder their sanction and approval, and with the enthusiastic cooperationof many patriotic women and societies in the various States, the RedCross has fully maintained its already high reputation for intenseearnestness and ability to exercise the noble purposes of itsinternational organization, thus justifying the confidence and supportwhich it has received at the hands of the American people. To themembers and officers and all who aided them in their philanthropicwork, the sincere and lasting gratitude of the soldiers and the publicis due and freely accorded. 

"In tracing these events we are constantly reminded of our obligationsto the Divine Master for His watchful care over us, and His safeguidance, for which the nation makes reverent acknowledgment and offershumble prayers for the continuance of His favors. "--FROM PRESIDENTMCKINLEY'S MESSAGE TO CONGRESS, DECEMBER 6, 1898. 

IX

GALVESTON

1900

This time there was no murmur in the air, no warning of approachingdanger. Even the watchful press, that knows so much before it everhappens, slumbered quiet and deep, till the hissing wires shrieked theterrifying word--Galveston. 

Then we learned that, as at Port Royal, the sea had overleaped itsbounds and its victims by thousands were in its grasp. 

In all the land no one slept then. To us it was the clang of thefire-bell, and the drop of the harness. The Red Cross clans commenced togather. 

In two days a little coterie of near a dozen left Washington underescort of the competent agency of the New York World, which had on thefirst day telegraphed that it would open a subscription for the reliefof Galveston, and would be glad to send all supplies and money receivedto the Red Cross, if its president, Miss Clara Barton, would go anddistribute it. It was the acceptance of this generous offer that hadbrought to the station in Washington the escort; and a palace-car, provided with all comforts for the journey to Galveston, was under themanagement of the World's efficient correspondent and agent, RobertAdamson. 

The direfulness of the news gathered as we proceeded on our journey, anddelays were gotten over as quickly as possible. A detention of severalhours in New Orleans gave opportunity for consultation with the officersof the Red Cross Society of that city, which had held its loyal ranksunbroken since 1882, and became a tower of strength in this relief. Aday of waiting in Houston for a passage over the Gulf gave us a glimpseof what the encroachment had been on the mainland. We found the passageacross to Galveston difficult, and with one night of waiting by theshore in almost open cars, at Texas City, we at length arrived inGalveston on the morning of the 15th of September. 

Here again no description could adequately serve its purpose. The sea, with fury spent, had sullenly retired. The strongest buildings, halfstanding, roofless and tottering, told what once had been the make-up ofa thriving city. But that cordon of wreckage skirting the shore formiles it seemed, often twenty feet in height, and against which the hightide still lapped and rolled! What did it tell? The tale is all toodreadful to recall--the funeral pyre of at least five thousand humanbeings. The uncoffined dead of the fifth part of a city lay there. Thelifeless bodies festering in the glaring heat of a September sun toldonly too fatally what that meant to that portion of the city left alive. The streets were well-nigh impassable, the animals largely drowned, theworking force of men diminished, dazed, and homeless. The men who hadbeen the fathers of the city, its business and its wealth, looked onaghast at their overwhelmed possessions, ruined homes, and, worse thanall, mourned their own dead. 

Yet these men, to the number of thirty or more, had, as one may say, pulled themselves together, and were even at that early date a reliefcommittee, holding their meetings at the wrecked and half-ruined hotel, almost the only public house left standing. To this hotel we also wentand reported to the committee. To say that we were kindly andgratefully received by them says nothing that would satisfy eitherourselves or them. 

The conditions were so new to them that it was a relief to meet personswho had seen such things before. We were asked not only to act withthem, but to assume charge of the administration of relief. This, ofcourse, we would not do, but that we would meet with, counsel, and aidthem in every way in our power, is needless to affirm. That we did dothis, through every day of our stay of three months, not only our ownconviction, but the unasked and unexpected testimony of both Galvestonand the Legislature of the State of Texas, go to assure. 

On the third day after our arrival we were joined by Mr. Stephen E. Barton, President of the former Central Cuban Relief Committee, and Mr. Fred L. Ward, its competent secretary, who became our secretary from thetime of his arrival until the close of the field, continuing until afterour return to headquarters and settling the last account. Not only thethanks of the Red Cross are due for his faithful, painstaking work, buthis name is still a household word through the score of countiesskirting the shore on the mainland of Texas. 

It may be interesting to readers to know what is done first, or just howa relief party commence under circumstances like that. A few words willgive an outline. First the ground must be overlooked and conditionslearned. This is not easy when it is remembered that broken houses, cars, wagons, church steeples, and grand pianos were liable to beencountered in the middle of the leading streets, themselves buriedthree feet in the coarse black sand, brought in by the great tidal wave. 

Nevertheless, a building must be found in which to store and distributethe supplies that would immediately come. How needful these supplieswould be can be inferred when it is recalled that scores of persons camealive out of that wreck, with simply the band of a shirt or anight-dress held by its button about the neck as the only reminder thatever a cover of clothing had been theirs. 

A little meeting of my assistants early held assigned each to his dutyand his place. A warehouse, fortunately still intact, was generouslysupplied by Mr. John Sealy. Major James A. McDowell, with theexperience of this branch of Red Cross work from Johnstown down, and therecord of twenty-six battles in the old civil war, was placed in charge. Here is one of the scenes given by a casual eye-witness:

A poor feeble-looking man, with scant clothing, enters the warehouse andwaits. "Hello there, " calls the observant major--with his Grand Armybutton--overhauling clothes for the visitor. "But, major, I was aConfederate soldier. " "Lord bless your poor suffering soul, whatdifference does that make? Here, this will suit you. "

It was thought advisable by some of the party to establish an orphanage, which was done and carried through, regardless of the common-sense ideathat few children would survive, when the parents were drowned. And soit proved, although the work was faithfully administered. 

Homes must be made, lumber obtained, and houses built. The Red Crosssent out the appeal for lumber and aided in the work of shelter. 

Mrs. Fannie B. Ward was placed in charge of a special clothingdepartment. Need I remind thoughtful readers that in a disaster likethat, where people of affluence, culture, and position are in a nightbereft of all, one of the cruelest features might be to go to the openboxes of a relief station for clothing, such as never before worn, andcould not be asked for through the choking tears. In all humanity thesecases must be properly, respectfully, and discreetly met, as one ladycould meet another in distress. 

No more vivid picture of the conditions by which we were surrounded canbe imagined than the following extract from Mrs. Ward's report:

"Just seven days after the storm we found ourselves stranded at TexasCity, on the mainland opposite Galveston Island, waiting fortransportation across the six-mile stretch of water. Bridges had beenswept away, and new sand-bars thrown up in the bay; floating roofs andtimbers impeded navigation, and the only method of communication betweenthe mainland and Galveston was one poor little ferry-boat, which had tofeel her now dangerous way very cautiously, by daylight only. She hadalso to carry nearly a quarter of her capacity in soldiers to preventher being swamped by waiting crowds of people, frantic to learn thefate of their friends on the island. Each trip to the mainland, the boatcame filled with refugees from the city of doom--the sick, the maimed, the sorrowing--many with fearful bodily injuries inflicted by the storm, and others with deeper wounds of grief;--mothers whose babies had beentorn from their arms, children whose parents were missing, fathers whoseentire families were lost--a dazed and tearless throng, such as Dantémight have met in his passage through Inferno. These were dumped bythousands on the sandy beach at Texas City, and then conveyed by rail toHouston, to be cared for by the good people of that city, who, notwithstanding their own grievous losses, were doing noble work fortheir stricken neighbors. 

"Of Texas City--a flourishing town of four or five thousandhouses--nothing remained but heaps of bricks and splintered wood, soddenbales of cotton and bits of household furniture, scattered over theplain; not a standing habitation within miles, nor any shelter for thecrowds above-mentioned, except two or three hospital-tents, hastily setup for the sick and wounded, but inadequate for their accommodation. What was our dismay when told that here we must remain at leasttwenty-four hours, for the return of the boat! However, we were betteroff, even physically, than most of the waiting crowd, though wearinessof the flesh amounted to actual suffering, after more than fifty hours'travel. As a special courtesy to Miss Barton, the railway company left acar to shelter her during the night. Luxurious Pullmans did not aboundat Texas City, and this was the shabbiest of day-coaches, equipped withfew 'modern conveniences. ' But this was no time to think of personalcomfort, on the threshold of so much misery; and who could murmur whenthe head of our little company set such an heroic example of patience. Ihave seen her in many trying situations, that threatened the fortitudeand endurance of the strongest--and have yet to hear the first word ofcomplaint from her lips. She smilingly 'bunked' upon two seats laidtogether--compared to which, for softness, the _penitente's_ slab ofstone would be as 'downy beds of ease'--and encouraged her companions todo the same. Hunger and thirst would also have been our portion, had itnot been for a Salvation Army Corps encamped in the vicinity, and theRelief Train of the Philadelphia North American, stranded likeourselves. Thanks to those good Samaritans, we dined and breakfasted ontinned beef, bread and coffee; and what more could good soldiersrequire?

"That night in Texas City will be long remembered. Sleep was out of thequestion--stretched on those cross-bars, like St. Lawrence on hisgridiron. Soldiers patrolled the beach, not only to prevent a stampedeof the boat, but to protect both the quick and the dead from fiends inhuman guise, who prowled the devastated region, committing atrocitiestoo horrible to name. All night the steady tramp, tramp, of the guardsounded beneath the car-windows, while at either door stood twosentinels, muskets on shoulders. Skies of inky blackness, studded withstars of extraordinary brilliancy, seemed to bend much nearer the earththan at the North; and the Great Dipper hung low on the horizon--foronly just across the Gulf it disappears to give place to the SouthernCross. Myriads of big, bright fire-flies, resembling balls of flame, flitted restlessly over the plain, like the disembodied souls whosehomes were here one short week before, searching for their scatteredtreasures. Over on Galveston Island, a long line of flame, mounting tothe heavens, marked the burning of ruined homes and corpses; while otherfires, in all directions on the mainland, told of similar ghastlycremations. At one time I counted twenty-three of these fires, notincluding those on the island. Early in the morning a strange odor drewattention to a fresh funeral-pyre, only a few rods away, around thehorse-shoe curve of the shore. We were told that thirty bodies, foundsince daybreak in the immediate vicinity, were being consumed in it. That peculiar smell of burning flesh, so sickening at first, becamehorribly familiar within the next two months, when we lived in it andbreathed it, day after day. 

"We found the situation in Galveston infinitely worse than had beendescribed. The most sensational accounts of the yellowest journals fellfar short of the truth--simply because its full horror was beyond thepower of words to portray. Figures and statistics can give little ideaof the results of such an appalling calamity; and to this day, peopleat a distance have no realization of the unutterable woe which our RedCross band of less than a dozen, strove to alleviate. We arrived on theeighth day after the tragedy, in which upward of ten thousand lives wentsuddenly out in storm and darkness; and the survivors were justbeginning to realize the extent of their losses. 

"At first they seemed stunned to partial insensibility by the verymagnitude of their grief--as a man who has been mangled almost untodeath in a railroad disaster is said to be oblivious to pain. Deadcitizens lay by thousands amid the wreck of their homes, and ravingmaniacs searched the _débris_ for their loved ones, with the organizedgangs of workers. Corpses, dumped by barge-loads into the Gulf, camefloating back to menace the living; and the nights were lurid withincinerations of putrefying bodies, piled like cord-wood, black andwhite together, irrespective of age, sex, or previous condition. Atleast four thousand dwellings had been swept away, with all theircontents, and fully half of the population of the city was withoutshelter, food, clothes, or any of the necessaries of life. Of these, some were living in tents; others crowded in with friends hardly lessunfortunate; many half-crazed, wandering aimlessly about the streets, and the story of their sufferings, mental and physical, is past thetelling. Every house that remained was a house of mourning. Of manyfamilies every member had been swept away. Even sadder were the numerouscases where one or two were left out of recently happy households; andsaddest of all was the heart-breaking suspense of those whose friendswere numbered among the 'missing. '

"We find it hard enough to lay away our dead in consecrated ground, withall the care and tenderness that love can suggest, where we may waterthe sacred spot with our tears and place upon it the flowers they lovedin life; but never to know whether their poor bodies were swallowed bythe merciless Gulf, or fed to the fishes with those grewsomebarge-loads, or left above ground to become an abomination in thenostrils of the living, or burned in indiscriminate heaps with horsesand dogs and the mingled ashes scattered to the winds--must indeed havebeen well-nigh unbearable. No wonder there were lunatics in Galveston, and unnumbered cases of nervous prostration. 

"After weeks had passed and two thousand men, aided by several hundredteams, had partially reduced the mountain of wreckage, cremation firesyet burned continuously--fed not only by human bodies, but by thousandsof carcasses of domestic animals. By that time, in the hot, moistatmosphere of the latitude, decomposition had so far advanced that thecorpses--which at first were decently carried in carts or on stretchers, then shoveled upon boards or blankets--had finally to be scooped up withpitchforks, in the hands of negroes, kept at their awful task by thesoldiers' bayonets. And still the 'finds' continued, at the average rateof seventy a day. The once beautiful driving beach was strewn withmounds and trenches, holding unrecognized and uncoffined victims of theflood; and between this improvised cemetery and a ridge of _débris_, three miles long and in places higher than the houses had been, a lineof cremation fires poisoned the air. 

"I think it was during our sixth week in Galveston, when, happening topass one of these primitive crematories, I stopped to interview the manin charge. Boards, water-soaked mattresses, rags of blankets andcurtains, part of a piano, baby-carriages, and the framework ofsewing-machines, piled on top, gave it the appearance of a festivebonfire, and only the familiar odor betrayed its purpose. 

"'Have you burned any bodies here?' I inquired. The custodian regardedme with a stare that plainly said, 'Do you think I am doing this foramusement?' and shifted his quid from cheek to cheek before replying. 

"'Ma'am, ' said he, 'this 'ere fire's been goin' on more'n a month. To myknowledge, upwards of sixty bodies have been burned in it--to saynothin' of dogs, cats, hens, and three cows. '

"'What is in there now?' I asked. 

"'Wa'al, ' said he meditatively, 'it takes a corpse several days to burnall up. I reckon thar's a couple of dozen of 'em--jest bones, youknow--down near the bottom. Yesterday we put seven on top of this 'erepile, and by now they are only what you might call baked. To-day we havebeen working over there (pointing to other fires a quarter of a miledistant), where we found a lot of 'em, 'leven under one house. We haveput only two in here to-day. Found 'em just now, right in that puddle. '

"'Could you tell me who they are?' I asked. 

"'Lord! No, ' was the answer. 'We don't look at 'em any more'n we haveto, else we'd been dead ourselves before to-day. One of these was acolored man. They are all pretty black, now; but you can tell 'em by thekinky hair. He had nothin' but an undershirt and one shoe. The other wasa woman; young, I reckon. 'Tenny rate she was tall and slim and had lotsof long brown hair. She wore a blue silk skirt and there was a rope tiedaround her waist, as if somebody had tried to save her. '

"Taking a long pole he prodded an air-hole near the center of thesmoldering heap, from which now issued a frightful smell, that caused ahasty retreat to the windward side. The withdrawal of the pole wasfollowed by a shower of charred bits of bone and singed hair. I pickedup a curling, yellow lock and wondered, with tears, what mother's handhad lately caressed it. 

"'That's nothin', ' remarked the fireman. 'The other day we found part ofa brass chandelier, and wound all around it was a perfect mop of long, silky hair--with a piece of skin, big as your two hands, at the end ofit. Some woman got tangled up that way in the flood and jest na'cherlyscalped. '

"I mention these incidents merely to show some of the conditions thathad to be met. The most we could do for the grief-stricken survivors wasto mitigate in some degree their bodily distress. The world knows howgenerously the whole country responded to the call--how contributionscame pouring in by trainloads and shiploads, consigned to the Red Cross. To distribute all this bounty judiciously was a herculean task--and ourworking force was very small. The ladies and gentlemen of Galveston whohad suffered less than their neighbors, formed themselves intocommittees, which opened relief stations in the several wards; andthrough these channels the bulk of supplies was issued. If mistakes weremade, it was not from lack of faithful endeavor on the part of thedistributers; and let us hope that the errors, if any, were all on theside of too liberal giving. 

"Merely to sort over one carload of garments, so as to make themimmediately available--to put the infants' clothes in one department, the shoes in another, grown-up dresses in another, coats and trousers inanother, underwear in another--was a work of time and strength; as thewriter, who for a while was 'Mistress of the Robes, ' can testify. From 7A. M. Till dark we toiled; and when at last we dragged ourselves back tothe hotel, too wearied for anything but bed, 'tired Nature's sweetrestorer' was hard to woo, because of aching feet and swollen muscles. But the experience was well worth it! Besides the joy of administeringto the suffering, what we learned of human nature (mostly good, I amglad to say) would fill volumes. To be sure, there were shadows, as wellas lights, in the picture. Greed and hypocrisy, jealousy, malice, andthe reverse of Christian charity, came sometimes unpleasantly to thefore, to be offset by the magnificent generosity of the American nation, and the knowledge that in most quarters our efforts were appreciated. Most of us were unused to manual labor, and all had left comfortablehomes--some at considerable financial sacrifice of well-salariedpositions, not for earthly gain or self-aggrandizement, but from purelove of the splendid cause of the Cross of Geneva. 

"In that Rag Fair department of old clothes, the ludicrous and patheticcalled for an equal blending of smiles and tears. It seemed as if everyhousehold, from Maine to California, from the St. Lawrence to the RioGrande, had rummaged its attics for the flood sufferers. Merchantsdelivered themselves of years' accumulations of shop-worngoods--streaked, faded, of fashions long gone by--but a great dealbetter than nothing for the destitute. There were at least a millionshirtwaists, all thin and summery, though cold winter was at hand, whenfrequent 'northers' chill the very marrow in one's bones, and ice andsnow are not unknown on Galveston Island. There was another million of'Mother Hubbard' wrappers, all of the sleaziest print and scrimpestpattern, with inch-wide hems at bottom and no fastening to speakof--wrappers enough to disfigure every female in Southern Texas. Fancy awhole city full of women masquerading in those shapeless garments--thepoorest of their class; and then remember that, a few years ago, thegreat and glorious State of Pennsylvania found it necessary to pass alaw--presumably for the peace of mind of her male citizens--forbiddingthe wearing of 'Mother Hubbards' in the street!

"One day there came to our warehouse a large case of beautiful, buttonedshoes, of the kind called 'Sorosis. ' 'What a bonanza!' we thought, whenthat box was opened--and through our minds went trooping a procession ofthe shoeless feet we had longed to comfort. But behold! every blessedshoe of the one hundred and forty-four was for the left foot!

"There was an enormous box from a city laundry, containing the unclaimed'washings' of many years--hundreds of waiters' aprons and cooks' caps, worn hotel towels and napkins, ragged shirts and collars--not a thingworth the lumber in the box, except as old linen for the hospitals. There was a great deal of bedraggled finery, than which nothing couldhave been less appropriate, when nine out of every ten women who appliedfor clothes, wanted plain black in which to mourn for their dead. Andthe hats and bonnets were of every shape and style within the memory ofman! They were mostly so crushed in careless packing that to haveworshiped them would have been no sin, according to Scripture, as theywere no longer in the 'likeness of anything in the heavens above, or theearth beneath, or the waters under the earth. ' There were workmen'sblouses and overalls, evidently shed in haste, under a sudden impulse ofgenerosity--plastered with grease, paint, and mortar, and odoriferous ofthat by which honest bread is said to be earned. 

"Occasionally a box or barrel was found to contain garmentsdisgracefully dirty and ragged, or dropping in pieces from the ravagesof moths. Possibly the sending of such worthless trash produced in thehearts of the donors that comfortable feeling of lending to theLord--but it was no use at our end of the line. What to do with it was aproblem. The lowest plantation darky would regard the gift as an insult, and to burn even the filthiest rags would give rise to stories of wantonwaste. So we hit upon an expedient which had been successfully employedin other fields--that of putting worthless articles in nice, cleanbarrels, rolling them out on the doorstep, and forgetting to bring themin at night; and every morning the barrels were found empty. 

"In striking contrast to these few 'shadows' were such gifts as that ofthe New England girl, who sent a large, carefully packed satchel, accompanied by a letter, explaining that she was seventeen years of age, and had taken from her own wardrobe an outfit, intended for aflood-sufferer of about her own age, whom the clothes would fit. Thesatchel contained three good suits complete, from hat to hose--all thata girl would need--even veil, handkerchiefs and fan; and it is needlessto add that they soon found their way to a most grateful young'sufferer. ' Here a poor widow divided her well-worn 'mourning' with somestranger sister-in-grief; there the bereaved mother brought out thetreasured garments her little one had worn, for some happier mother whohad lost only earthly possessions. 

"Letters by hundreds were found in the packages, pertinent andimpertinent, but all demanding answers. They were stuffed into old shoesand the linings of hats, cracked tea-pots and boxes of soap, combs andmatches. Every small boys' knickerbockers contained a note--generallyof original spelling and laboriously written in large capitals, from'Tommy' or 'Johnnie' or 'Charley, ' asking a reply, telling all about thestorm, from the boy who should receive the gift. Sentimental epistlesfrom ladies were hidden in the pockets of coats and trousers, invitingcorrespondence with the future wearers; and billet-doux fromdisconsolate widowers, presumably beginning to 'take notice, ' werepinned to the raiment of deceased wives. Such manifold phases have ourpoor human nature! Happily there was another and far more numerous classof letters, from charitable men and women, offering to adopt children, or to assist in any way in their power; from Sunday-school classes andsewing societies and day-schools, enclosing small sums of money, ortelling of gifts to come. There was even a letter from an almshouse, enclosing a check for eighty dollars, raised by thirty aged pensioners, who gave up their only luxuries--coffee, sugar, and tobacco--to swellthe fund for Galveston's relief. Another came from the poor, forgottennegroes of the Carolina sea islands, to whose assistance the Red Crosswent, after their disastrous floods a few years ago. Impelled bygratitude for the benefits then received, those simple-minded peoplecontributed a surprising amount, considering their poverty. Truly, inheaven's reckoning those unselfish 'mites' of the poor and lowly willcount for as much as the millions given by the great cities. 

"Notwithstanding the vast amount of old clothes that came to us, we werealways particularly short of the most important articles of an outfit, such as underwear, respectable skirts and dresses, and shoes--except ofextraordinary sizes, sent because unsalable. It frequently happenedthat, for days together, there was hardly a thing in stock fit forpeople of the better class. It must be remembered that we were notsupplying tramps and beggars, nor the ordinary applicants for charity, but ladies and gentlemen, accustomed to the luxuries of life, whosepossessions had been suddenly swept away. How could we offer thosedreadful wrappers, or bedraggled finery, or soiled and ragged garmentswhich our servants would despise, to ladies of taste, culture, andrefinement, whom we had come to assist in their misfortune, not toinsult? Therefore, in many cases, the only decent thing to do was to goout and buy what was needed, with some of those blessed contributionswhich bore the message, 'to be used at your own discretion. ' That wasChristian charity, pure and simple, in its most practical form. Forexample: A widow, of highest social standing and former wealth, livedwith her three daughters in one of those ill-fated cottages near thebeach, which was swept away with all its contents. Thus the fourhelpless women were left entirely destitute, even the clothes on theirbacks borrowed from neighbors a little less unfortunate. Friends in aNorthern city wrote, offering them a home. Transportation could beeasily provided, but the four must be fitted out for the journey. Wesearched the Rag Fair over, but found few suitable articles. Perhapssomething better might come in by and by, next week, some other time;but for every hoped-for article were a hundred waiting applicants--andmeanwhile those ladies must be supported until sent to their friends. Tosay nothing of their own feelings, and ours, we could not disgrace theRed Cross by sending that stately gray-haired mother and the threedelicate young ladies out into the world equipped by our alleged bountyin scanty calico 'Mother Hubbards, ' men's cow-hide brogans, andscare-crow headgear. So we picked out what would answer--here and therea garment which might be altered, the only pair of shoes in the placethat came near to fitting one of the ladies, a bolt of unbleached muslinwhich they, themselves, could fashion into underclothes, and fourdisreputable old hats. The latter we gave to a local milliner to remodeland trim, simply but respectably. Then we went to the store andpurchased shoes and other necessary articles, including enoughinexpensive but serviceable cloth for four gowns and jackets, andemployed a woman to make them. 

"This was not extravagance, but good use of the money, all around:--forthe poor little milliner whose shop had been destroyed and businessruined, whose children were then eating the bread of charity; and forthe customless dressmaker, who was also a grievous sufferer by theflood, with younger sisters to support. We gave her the first work shehad had for weeks, and her gratitude was good to see. 

"As for merchants, who were all on the verge of failure, but makingheroic efforts to keep afloat--Heaven knows we did them injury enoughevery day of our stay in Galveston, to be thankful for the privilege ofoccasionally becoming their patrons. Not only had they suffered immenselosses by the storm, their stocks being practically ruined and customersgone--but who would buy, so long as the Red Cross had food and clothesto give away, without money and without price? Though ours is a nobleand necessary work, it is never to the advantage of the local merchants, as a little reflection will show. 

"Another case was that of a young woman, who, with an aged relative, waskeeping a hotel in a near-by village, when the floods lifted their housefrom its foundations and ruined everything in it. Its four walls stood, however, and furnished shelter for all the houseless neighbors, whoflocked in, naked and hungry, and with whom the generous girl dividedher last garment and bit of food. Death also entered the family, twicewithin a few weeks--the last time leaving a sister's four half-grownchildren for this young woman to maintain. Take them she must, becausethey had nowhere else to go. Finding her in terrible straits, withouteven clothes to wear to her sister's funeral, were we not justified inbuying the heroic young woman a decent suit of black, besides sendingher a box of food supplies? Why were we there, if not to exercisejudgment in the matter of relief? If merely to distribute second-handarticles, without discrimination, we might have saved ourselves muchperil and hardship by remaining at home, and sending the boxes down totake care of themselves. 

"None of us will ever forget the grandniece of an ex-President of theUnited States--a handsome and imposing woman of middle age, traveled, educated, and evidently accustomed to the best society. She called oneday at headquarters, and although she did not ask for aid, the truthcame out in a heart-to-heart talk with Miss Barton that she had lost allin the storm and had not where to lay her head, nor food for the morrow;even the clothes she wore were not her own. Nobody living could put thislady on the pauper list, and none with a spark of human feeling couldwish to wound her pride. Our honored President, who reads hearts asothers do open books, clasped this unfortunate sister's hand--and leftin it a bank-note--I do not know of what denomination, but let us hopeit was not a small one. The look of surprise and gratitude that flashedover that woman's face was worth going far to see, as, speechless withemotion, the tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned away. 

"One might go on multiplying incidents by the hour, did time permit. There were teachers to be fitted out with suitable clothes before theopening of the schools; boys and girls needing school-books and shoes, caps, and jackets; new-born babes to be provided, whose wardrobes, prepared in advance, had been swept away; mothers of families, destituteof the commonest conveniences of life, to whom the gift of a pan orkettle was a godsend; aged people, whose declining years must becomforted; invalids to be cheered with little luxuries. My greatestregret is that we had not hundreds of dollars to use for every one thatwas expended in these directions. "

My stenographer, Miss Agnes Coombs, found her post by me, and sixty toeighty letters a day, taken from dictation, made up the clerical roundof the office of the president. This duty fell in between attending thedaily meetings of the relief committee and receiving constant calls bothin and out of the city. 

Our men made up their living-room at the warehouse. The few womenremained at the hotel, the only suitable place in the town. 

Later on arrived a shipload of supplies from the business people of NewYork, which were stored with the Galveston committee, and we were askedto aid in the distribution of these supplies, and to a certain extent wedid, but succeeded in organizing a committee of citizens, ladies andgentlemen, to carry out and complete this distribution. 

From lack of knowledge of the real conditions of the disaster and itsgeographical extent, this munificent donation had been assigned to the"Relief of Galveston, " and thus, technically, Galveston had no authorityto administer a pound or a dollar to any communities or persons outsideof the precincts of the city proper. This left at least twenty countieson the mainland on the other side of the Gulf, some of which were asbadly wrecked and ruined as Galveston itself, without a possibility ofthe slightest benefit from this great, generous gift. 

Seeing this pitiful and innocently unjust condition of affairs, theresult of ignorance of relief work, undertaken with much zeal but scantknowledge and no experience, we sought a way to atone for the mistake, so far as we might be able. 

Immediately closing our relief rooms in Galveston I had all Red Crosssupplies shipped to Houston, and relief for the mainland opened there. These were farming districts, and I directed intelligent inquiry to bemade as to what was most needed by the devastated farm lands and theirowners. All was swept away--sometimes as far as forty miles back intothe level country; often the soil itself was washed away, the home andall smaller animals destroyed, and no feed for the larger ones tosubsist on. The poor farmers walked their desolated fields and wrungtheir hands. 

It proved that this was the strawberry section of Southern Texas, andthese were the strawberry growers that supplied the early berries to ourNorthern market. For miles not a plant was left and no means toreplant. This was reported to me on the first day's investigation, andalso that if plants could be obtained and set within two weeks a halfcrop could be grown this year and the industry restored. That seemed abetter occupation for these poor fellows than walking the ground andwringing their hands. The messenger was sent back at daybreak toascertain how many plants would be needed to replant these lands, wherethey were accustomed to procure them, and what varieties were bestadapted to their use. 

That night brought again the messenger to say that a million and a halfof plants would reset the lands and that their supply came from thenurseries in North Carolina, Illinois, Arkansas, and Louisiana. Directions were sent back to Mr. Ward to order the plants to be there intwo weeks. This was done. Only thirty-eight thousand plants were injuredin transit, and those were generously resupplied by the shippers. Withinthe two weeks this million and a half of strawberry plants were set. Itwas estimated that fully a third of a crop was realized that year, andit is safe to predict that one-half the readers of this little sketchwill partake of the fruits of these Red Cross relief strawberry fieldsthis very springtime. 

Other needs to a large amount were supplied by Mr. Ward, and we left noidle, wringing hands on the mainlands of Texas. 

I had never left Galveston. Some other thoughtful reader may pitifullyask, what became of these miles of wreckage and the dead on theGalveston seashore?

At this distant day it may be safe to tell. I recall that at the timemuch criticism was indulged in. 

All were burned. 

The heat grew greater and the stench stronger every day. They tried toremove the _débris_ and get the bodies out for burial. No human beingcould work in that putrefying mass. Previously had come the gloriousthought of getting them into boats and shipping them a mile out to sea. With hopeful hearts this experiment was tried for one day. Alas! thenight tide brought them all back to shore. The elements of earth andwater had refused--what remained but fire? Openings in the longcontinuous lines were cut through at given spaces, the fire engines setto play on the open, and the torch applied to the end of sections; thusa general conflagration of the city was prevented, and from day to daythe pile diminished. 

The stench of burning flesh permeated every foot of the city. Who couldlong withstand this? Before the end of three months there was scarcely awell person in Galveston. My helpers grew pale and ill, and even I, whohave resisted the effect of so many climates, needed the help of asteadying hand as I walked to the waiting Pullman on the track, courteously tendered free of charge to take us away. 

This is a tedious story; but if gone through, one has a little insightinto the labor of a Red Cross field of relief. There are twenty in myrecollection, and this was by no means the hardest or the most useful. They have been lived, but never told. 

I beg my readers to bear in mind that this is not romance that I amwriting, where I can place my characters in the best light and shaperesults at will, but history, with my personages still alive, ready toattest the reality of this statement. That grand committee of Galvestonrelief--than whom no nobler body of men I have ever met--are, I hope, all yet alive to testify to the conditions and statements made. 

I have dedicated this little volume to the people with whom, and forwhom, have gone the willing labors of twenty-five years--initial labors, untried methods, and object lessons. Well or ill, they have carried withthem the best intentions and the best judgment given for the purpose. Whatever may betide or the future have in store for the little work sosimply commenced, so humbly carried on, merely a helper with no thoughtof leadership, it bears along with it the memories of pain assuaged, hope revived, endeavor strengthened, and lives saved. 

To the noble sympathies of generous hearts these results are due, andyet it is not in its past that the glories or the benefits of the RedCross lie, but in the possibilities it has created for the future; inthe lessons it has taught; in the avenues to humane effort it hasopened, and in the union of beneficent action between people andGovernment, when once comprehended and effected, that shall constitutea bulwark against the mighty woes sure to come sooner or later to allpeoples and all nations. 

To you--the people of America--this sacred trust is committed, in yourhands the charge is laid. To none will your help ever be so precious asit has been to me, for in its proud growth and strength none will everso need you.