Chapter I: H. R. PRINCE GUY DE LUSIGNAN between pages (1)

342 and 343

ABDUL-HAMID 346

WILLIAM R. DAY 355

HER BUSINESS RECORD between pages
358 and 359

Benjamin F. Butler

Francis Atwater

Leonard F. Ross

REDFIELD PROCTOR between pages
358 and 359

THE AMERICAN RED CROSS BUILDING, WASHINGTON, D. C. 362

HENRY BRECKENRIDGE 369

REPRESENTATIVE OF UNITED STATES CONGRESS 380

Champ Clark

Charles F. Curry

Denver S. Church

REUNION OF 21ST MASSACHUSETTS REGIMEN between pages
390 and 391

THE MEMORIAL TREE PLANTING TO THE MEMORY OF CLARA between pages
BARTON, 1922 406 and 407

Lieutenant-General Nelson A. Miles, with the first
shovel of dirt

Mrs. John A. Logan, with second shovel of dirt

The Clara Barton Oak

Miss Carrie Harrison, planting the Clara Barton Rose

Charles Sumner Young, while delivering the memorial
address

WILLIAM HOWARD TAFT 417

THE INSIDE OF MEMORIAL BUILDING, OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS between pages
422 and 423

THE OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS, MEMORIAL BUILDING between pages
422 and 423

REPRESENTATIVE MASSACHUSETTS STATESMEN 428

Henry Wilson

Charles Sumner

George F. Hoar

UNITED STATES SENATORS WHO SAW THE WORK OF CLARA BARTON 430

Charles E. Townsend

Jacob H. Gallinger

H. D. Money

NELSON A. MILES 433

JOHN J. PERSHING 435

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 442

THE RED CROSS MONUMENT 444

The embossed cut on the front cover is a reproduction of a bronze bust by Mrs. Otto Heideman.

CLARA BARTON

There is a kind of character in thy life,
That to the observer doth thy history
Fully unfold.

I

I take my pencil (at 86 years of age) to describe the first moment of my life that I remember. CLARA BARTON—In _The Story of My Childhood._

Do not sin against the child. GENESIS.

The fir trees dark and high,
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky.
HOOD—_I remember, I remember_.

The rude wooden cradle in which Clara Barton was rocked is now one of the very interesting curios in possession of the Worcester (Mass.) Historical Society. THE AUTHOR.

The child’s grief throbs against the round of its little heart as heavily as the man’s sorrow. CHAPIN.

Baby lips will laugh me down. TENNYSON.

A child’s sob curseth deeper in the silence
Than the strong man in his wrath.
E. B. BROWNING.

Dispel not the happy delusions of children. GOETHE.

Happy child! The cradle is to thee a vast space.

SCHILLER.

Who can foretell for what high cause
This destiny of the gods was born.
ANDREW MARVELL.

BABYHOOD IMPRESSIONS

Babyhood repeats itself. Babyhood is practically the same yesterday, today and forever. And yet who does not try to recall first impressions and first experiences? Clara Barton says her first baby experience that she recalls was when she was two and one half years of age. She thus describes it:—

“Baby los’ ’im—pitty bird—baby los’ ’im—baby mos’ caught ’im.

“At length they succeeded in inducing me to listen to a question, ‘But where did it go, Baby?’

“Among my heart-breaking sobs I pointed to a small round hole under the doorstep. The terrified scream of my mother remained in my memory forevermore. Her baby had ‘mos’ caught’ a snake.”

Her second experience that she recalls was when four years old, at a funeral of a beloved friend of the family. She previously had been terrified by a large old ram on the farm. On this occasion she was left in care of a guardian, in a sitting room. The four windows were open. Suddenly there came up a thunder storm. Sharp flashes of lightning darted through the rising, rolling clouds. She thought the whole heavens were full of angry rams and they were coming down upon her. Her screams alarmed, and her brother rushed into the room only to find her on the floor in hysterics.

Sorrows put permanent wrinkles on the face, in maturity; on the mind, in childhood. Only strangeness may produce fear in babyhood but, with a baby, strangeness is everywhere. Darkness and strange noises frighten. Forms of phantasy float on the imagination; when gradually, it’s comedy; when suddenly, it’s tragedy.

These tragic moments left their impressions on Clara Barton’s plastic mind. Such impressions ever must remain. Miss Barton said she remembered nothing but fear in her earlier years; and terror-stricken she remained to the end, except when she could serve someone in distress, or rescue someone from danger of death. An English philosopher says: “the least and most imperceptible impressions received in our infancy have consequences very important and are of long duration.” The greatest minds of earth, in all ages, have tried to recall baby experiences, and have wondered what they had to do with success or failure.

II

At three years Clara Barton was taken a mile and one-half to school on the shoulders of her brother Stephen; at eleven years she ceased growing, then but five feet three inches. THE AUTHOR.

When I found myself on a strange horse, in a trooper’s saddle, flying for life or liberty in front of pursuit, I blessed the baby lessons of the wild gallops among the beautiful colts.

CLARA BARTON.

Clara Barton—The memories of her childhood belong to our little town, and are our most precious heritage.

MRS. ALLEN L. JOSLYN, Oxford, Mass.

Remember that you were once a child, full of childish thoughts and actions. CLARA BARTON.

Sweetly wild
Were the scenes that charmed me when a child.
LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

The sports of children satisfy the child. GOLDSMITH.

Children’s plays are not sports, and should be regarded as their most serious actions. MONTAGUE.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. I CORINTHIANS.

A sweet child is the sweetest thing in nature. C. LAMB.

Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.
S. WORDSWORTH.

The scenes of childhood are memories of future years.

J. O. CHOULES.

I do not like to beat my children—the world will beat them.

ELIHU BURRITT.

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood
When fond recollections present them to view.
S. WORDSWORTH.

Deep meaning often lies in childish plays. SCHILLER.

Backward, turn backward, O time, in your flight!
Make me a child again, just for to-night.
ELIZABETH A. ALLEN.

Toil without recompense, tears all in vain;
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
E. A. ALLEN.

The Baker homestead (Bow, N. H.)—Around the memory thereof cluster the
golden days of my childhood.

MARY BAKER EDDY.

A long way seems the dear old New England home—its sheltering groves
and quiet hills; amid the clustering memories my tears are falling
thick and silently like the autumn leaves in forest dells.

CLARA BARTON.

Children have more need of models than of critics.

JOSEPH JOUBERT.

Children think not of what is past nor of what is to come but enjoy
the present time, which few of us do.

LA BRUYERE.

Women are only children of a larger growth.

CHESTERFIELD—_Letter to his son_.

The only fun is to do things. CLARA BARTON.

I pledged myself to strive only for the courage of the right and for
the blessedness of true womanhood. CLARA BARTON.

SCHOOL—CHILDISH MEMORIES—MILITARY

What woman has not said “I remember when I was a girl....” Clara Barton at eighty-six years said, in the story of her childhood, I remember ..., I remember riding wild colts when I was five years of age. I remember how frightened I was, but acquired assurance when my brother used to tell me to “cling fast to the mane.” To this day (at eighty-six years of age) my seat in the saddle, or on the bare back of a horse, is as secure and tireless as in a rocking chair. I remember I thought the President might be as large as the meeting house and the Vice President perhaps the size of the school house. I remember telling my teacher that I did not spell such little words as “cat” and “dog,” but I spell in artichoke, artichoke being the first word in the column of three syllables.

I remember writing verses, many of which for years were preserved—some of these verses by others recited to amuse people—some verses to tease me. I remember, in school, making a mistake in pronouncing ‘Ptolmy,’ when the children laughed at me, and I burst out crying and left the room.

I remember that my father taught me politics; and that, as an old soldier,[1] he amused the other children and myself by giving us practical lessons in military life. We used improvised material, such as children are accustomed to use in “playing soldier,”—paper caps, plumes, banners, kettle for the kettle drum, tin swords, sticks for guns and bayonets—all of which were perfectly satisfactory to us.

Footnote 1:

A Clara Barton paternal ancestor immigrated to America from
Lancashire, England, about twelve years after the landing of _The
Mayflower_. Since that date a direct descendant of his has
participated in every war, by this country.

Our muskets were of cedar wood
With ramrods bright and new;

With bayonets forever set,
And painted barrels, too.

We shouldered arms, we carried arms,
We charged the bayonet;
And woe unto the mullen stalk
That in our course we met!

The armies played havoc with each other, had fearful encounters and, what seemed to our young minds then, suffered disastrous results. Camps, regiments, brigades, military terms, she said, thus became familiar to her as the most ordinary matters of home.

Is it warm in that green valley,
Vale of childhood, where you dwell?
Is it calm in that green valley,
Round whose bowers such great hills swell?
Are there giants in the valley—
Giants leaving footprints yet?
Are there angels in the valley?
Tell me—I forget.

III

In my home here at Oxford, we would listen with intense interest to
the story of her early years, to childhood and girlhood, and to scenes
and events in her old home on the hillside. Clara Barton, by her
shining example to our children and our children’s children, has left
a rare legacy to the town of her birth.

MRS. A. L. JOSLYN—In _Clara Barton In Memoriam_.

Bucephalus was calmed, and subdued, by the presence of Alexander and
became his favorite war-horse.

ABBOTT.

My arms, my arms. My horse; come quick, my horse——.
JOAN OF ARC.

My brother David was the “Buffalo Bill” of all that surrounding
country.

CLARA BARTON.

My father was a lover of horses, one of the first in the vicinity to
introduce blooded stock.

CLARA BARTON.

The first horses imported into the United States were brought to New
England in 1629. Surviving the ocean voyage were one horse and seven
mares. Oxen being used for all farm work, horses did not come into
general use until one hundred years afterwards.

THE AUTHOR.

Joan of Arc, Clara Barton and Florence Nightingale was each an expert
horsewoman and each made use of her skill in horsemanship, in war.

THE AUTHOR.

ON HER FAVORITE BLACK HORSE

Like many other country girls, Clara Barton was fond of horseback riding. When twelve years of age, on one occasion, she ran away from home to go for a ride. She came down stairs quietly and slipped out for a ride on her favorite black horse.

What a wild triumph, that this “girlish hand”
Such a steed in the might of his strength may command!

Falling from the horse, she injured her knee. Determined to keep the injury a secret she joined her brothers in the field as though nothing had happened. But she limped, and her brothers noticed it. She merely told her brothers she had injured her knee, but would say no more. They sent for a doctor. By plying many questions as to how it happened, the doctor drew from her a confession. In later life—in the Civil War, in the Franco-Prussian War, in the Spanish American War, her skill as a horseback rider was of great service to her. On several occasions she had to “ride for her life.” In speaking of this accomplishment, she used to say “When I was a little girl I could ride like a Mexican.”

IV

Clara Barton—the pitying sweetness which fills her eyes and the
sympathetic lines which have been drawn about her mouth bear witness
to a long intimacy with suffering and death.

Central (Mo.) _Christian Advocate_. (1912)

Physiognomy is the language of the face. JEREMY COLLIER.

Physiognomy is reading the handwriting of nature upon the human
countenance. CHATFIELD.

Palmistry is a science as old as the history of the human race. The
mind deceives; the hand tells the truth; the thumb in particular, the
tell-tale of character.

DOLORES CORTEZ, _Queen of the Spanish Gypsies_.

Show me an outspread hand and I’ll show you whether or not its master
is honest, is kind, is affectionate.

ARTHUR DELROY, _Author_.

* * * * *

Human nature, as unfolded by phrenology, is being universally accepted
by all classes of people. CRANIUM.

Phrenology can be used in every phase of life. C. S. HARDISON.

Phrenology is very fruitful in its capacity to paint mental images.

MISS JESSIE ALLEN FOWLER.

Phrenology,—a science that has been of great help to us in the
progress of life. DOCTOR CHARLES H. SHEPARD.

The shape of the brain may generally be ascertained by the form of the
skull. O. S. AND L. N. FOWLER.

Phrenology professes to point out a connection between certain
_manifestations of the mental and peculiar conditions and developments
of the brain_. O. S. AND L. N. FOWLER.

Of all the people in England, I was most glad to meet Doctor L. N.
Fowler, the same gentle, kind man he used to be so many years ago, and
who has done so much for the middle classes of England, giving them
helpful advice they could not get from other sources. CLARA BARTON.

Remembering that fully one-fifth of my life (1856) has been passed as
a teacher in schools, it is not strange that I should feel some
interest in the cause of education. CLARA BARTON.

’Tis education forms the common mind; just as the twig is bent the
tree is inclined. ALEXANDER POPE.

PHRENOLOGY—READ HER CHARACTERISTICS—BASIS OF FRIENDSHIP

The physiognomist reads character in the face; the palmist in the hand; the phrenologist in the skull. Physiognomy since the origin of man has been nature’s open book. The science of palmistry is at least five thousand years old; but the science of phrenology is of comparatively recent origin. When Clara Barton was a little girl phrenology received its really first great impulse in this country, through the lectures and writings of the Doctors Fowler of England. In England, as in this country, phrenology was then the subject of much ridicule. Of this strange science Thomas Hood sarcastically writes:

’Tis strange how like a very dunce,
Man, with his bumps upon his sconce,
Had lived so long; and yet no knowledge he
Has had, till lately, of phrenology—
A science that by simple dint of
Head-combining he should find a hint of,
When scratching o’er those little pole-hills
The faculties threw up like mole hills.

Little Clara was bashful, afraid of strangers, too timid to sit at the family table when guests were present; would not so much as tell her name when asked to do so. When spoken to by a stranger she would burst out crying—sometimes leaving the room. Now and then she would go hungry rather than ask a favor even of a member of the family. Doctor L. N. Fowler visited Oxford. While there he was a guest at the Barton home.

Doctor, what shall we do with this girl, asked the mother; she annoys us almost to death. We can hardly speak to her without her crying, from fear. The doctor examined her head. He replied, she is timid, that’s all. The “bump” of fear is over-developed. Nothing will change a child’s innate fear; that is a characteristic of her nature. She may outgrow it to some extent but her sensitive nature will remain as long as she lives. The doctor advised the parents to give her something to do; to keep her at work, and thus to let her forget herself. Don’t scold her; encourage her. When she does anything well, give her full credit—compliment her. Throw responsibility on her; when she is old enough give her a school to teach.

To be understood is the basis of friendship. The Doctor understood Clara; little Clara understood the Doctor. They became friends. That friendship lasted through life. Many years after the Doctor visited Oxford Clara Barton visited the Doctor, in London. They spent evenings together. The Doctor renewed his interest in the people of those early days in New England. He especially recalled the characteristics of Miss Barton’s father;—they became mutually reminiscent of the days of her childhood. The Doctor had then become old and decrepit but was still giving lectures on phrenology. The happiest hours Clara Barton spent in England were in the home of the Fowlers; with the Doctor, his charming wife and three beautiful daughters.

V

The earth can never have enough women like Clara Barton.

Detroit (Mich.) _Free Press._

Clara Barton belonged not only to the United States but to the entire
civilized world. Boston (Mass.) _Globe._

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine. PROVERBS.

Laugh and the world laughs with you. ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.

SHAKESPEARE.

A little nonsense now and then
Is relished by the best of men. ANONYMOUS.

The next best thing to a very good joke is a very bad one.

J. C. HARE.

Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he. GOLDSMITH.

If ever there were lost, or omitted, a well-turned joke or a bit of
humor by the various members of the Barton family it was clearly an
accident. CLARA BARTON.

Joking decides great things stronger and better of’t than earnest can.
MILTON-HORACE.

THE UNIVERSALIST CHURCH, MAIN STREET, OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS

Where Clara Barton attended church. Oldest Universalist Church in the
world, built 1792. Society second oldest. Organized April 27, 1785.
Denomination organized here, September 14, 1785.
]

SUMMER HOME OF CLARA BARTON, OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS

Arrow points towards the window of the room where Clara Barton was
bed-ridden for several months, through her last fatal illness, in
the latter part of 1911.
]

“SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION” LAID TO CLARA BARTON

A timid child is invariably the butt of jokes. Clara Barton, in her youth, was not an exception. As a little girl she had learned to weave, working in a North Oxford satinet mill. She had not been it work there very long when the mill took fire and burned down. Then, as no satisfactory explanation of the cause could be given by the members of the Barton family, the fire was attributed to spontaneous combustion, brought on because Clara had worked so fast as to set the mill on fire. Clara Barton did not object to, but rather enjoyed, a joke on herself. She used to tell her friends of this joke and said that in her own town and among her playmates that joke was “told on me for many years.”

VI

Forget not Christmas. HENRY _IV._ of England.

At Christmas be merry, and thankful withal,
And feast thy poor neighbors, the great with the small. TUSSER.

Those who at Christmas do repine,
And would fain hence despatch him,
May they with old Duke Humphry dine,
Or else may ‘Squire Ketch catch him.’
POOR ROBIN’S ALMANAC, 1684.

Without the door let sorrow lie,
And if, for cold, it hap to die,
Wee ’le bury ’t in a Christmas pye,
And evermore be merry.
WITHER’S JUVENILIA.

Now Christmas is come,
Let us beat up the drum,
And call all our neighbors together.
And when they appear,
Let us make them such cheer,
As will keep out the wind and the weather. OLD SONG.

A Christmas baby! Now, isn’t that the best kind of a Christmas gift
for us all? FATHER STEPHEN BARTON (1821).

Clara Barton was a Christmas present, given to the world.

Bridgeport (Conn.) _Standard_ (—In 1912).

The sweet love-planted Christmas tree. WILL CARLETON.

A good conscience is a continual Christmas.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

This day shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.

SHAKESPEARE.

I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year.
CHARLES DICKENS.

On Christmas Day we will shut out from our fireside nothing.

CHARLES DICKENS.

’Tis the season for kindling the fire of hospitality in the hall, the
genial fire of charity in the heart. WASHINGTON IRVING.

I was born on one bright Christmas day, and I am told that there was a
great family jubilation upon the occasion. CLARA BARTON.

For which the shepherds at their festivals
Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays. JOHN MILTON.

The winds ever chant on the bright Christmas morn,
The sweetest of carols for “Two” that were born.
E. MAY GLENN TOON.

CHRISTMAS
A CHRISTMAS CAROL
(1894)

For my 30,000 Sea Island Friends

A Loving Greeting and Merry Christmas. CLARA BARTON.

Lo! The Christmas morn is breaking,
Bring the angels bright array,
For the Christian world is waking,
And the Lord is born to-day.
Shout then, brothers; shout and pray,
For the blessed Lord is born to-day.

No more tears and pain and sorrow,
Hark! I hear the angels say
Blessed be the bright to-morrow,
For the Lord is born to-day.
Shout then, sisters; shout and pray,
For the blessed Lord is born to-day.

Forget your night of sad disaster,
Cast your burdens all away,
Wait the coming of the Master,
For the Lord is born to-day.
Shout then, children; shout and pray,
For the blessed Lord is born to-day.

In the sunlight, soft and golden,
Round the babe the angels play;
List, their notes so grand and olden,
Lo! The Lord is born to-day.
Shout, all people; shout and pray,
For the blessed Lord is born to-day.

VII

The life of Clara Barton should be familiarized to every child.

Woonsocket (R. I.) _Call._

Learning to ride, Clara, is just learning a horse.

BROTHER DAVID (“Buffalo Bill”) in 1826.

How can I learn a horse, David? SISTER CLARA.

Catch hold of his mane, baby, and just feel the horse a part of
yourself—the big half of the task being.

BROTHER DAVID. _Heroines of Service._

Love me, love my dog. HEYWARD’S PROVERBS.

The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this
selfish world, the one that never deserts him, and the one that never
proves ungrateful, or traitorous, is his dog. SENATOR VEST.

We are two travellers, Roger and I—Roger’s my dog—so fond, so
unselfish, so forgiving. JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE.

I have seen many friends in my travels,
Some friends whom the world would call game,
But the friendship of my old dog Roger
Would put all the others to shame.
WILLIAM DEVERE.

I would rather be a dog and bay at the moon
Than such a Roman. JULIUS CAESAR.

Every dog has his day, why not I?
Dogs are very much like people—
I am Preacher Smith’s dog, whose dog are you?
ABBIE N. SMITH, “_Bobtail Dixie_.”

A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! SHAKESPEARE.

O for a horse with wings. CYMBELINE.

Champing his foam, and bounding o’er the plain,
Arch his high neck and graceful spread his mane.
SIR R. BLACKMORE.

A good rider on a good horse is as much above himself and others as
the world can make him. LORD HERBERT.

I die,—but first have possessed
And come what may, I _have been blessed_. BYRON.

Aspiration sees only one side of every question; possession, many.

LOWELL.

How senseless is the love of wealth and treasure. GUARINI.

Remember not one penny can we take with us into the unknown land.
SENECA.

“BUTTON”—“BILLY”—CLARA BARTON OWNERSHIP

A dog is a real philanthropist, his whole existence is living for others. The best “war-scout” known is the Red Cross dog, wearing the insignia. In a dog Miss Barton found a congenial spirit. Her first ownership was a dog, and known by the name of “Button.” He was medium-sized, very white, with silky ears, sparkling black eyes, and a very short tail. “Button” was Clara Barton’s guardian in the cradle, her playmate in childhood.

Some little dogs are very good,
And very useful too:—

“Button” would try to pick her up when she fell down, sympathize with her in her troubles,—ever unselfish, helpful, loyal.

Clara Barton’s second individual ownership was “Billy.” “Billy” was a horse. She said he was high stepping; in color, brown; of Morgan ancestry, with glossy coat, slim legs, pointed ears, long black mane and tail, and weighing nearly nine hundred pounds.

Ownership endowed “Billy” with wonderful characteristics. He could trot, rack, pace, single-foot,—a Bucephalus worthy of world fame. “Like beads upon a rosary” she would count and recount the joys of memory, memory of her saddle horse, and she on his back, riding like mad, at ten years of age. He had many characteristics, doubtless, that she didn’t recount. As a horse is known to be “a vain thing for safety” “Billy” could probably run away, get frightened at a shadow, senselessly “kick up” and “smash-up,” as do other horses. But fun is in the danger; the greater the danger to life and limb the greater the fun. “Billy” would not stand over her to guard her, nor help her up when she fell down, but was useful and gave her pleasure. “The true, living love is love of soul for soul,” hence mankind loves, in return for love, only what gives love; but mankind also pretends to love what it can force to serve man’s purpose. The dog spirit and the horse spirit satisfy the longings of human nature—all the world loves a dog and assumes to love a horse.

In hearing of the cannon’s roar one afternoon, an officer galloped up asking, “Miss Barton, can you ride?” “Yes sir.” “But you have no saddle—could you ride mine?” “Yes sir, or without it, if you have blanket and surcingle.” “Then you can risk an hour.” An hour later the officer returned at breakneck speed—and leaping from his horse said: “Now is your time Miss Barton; the enemy is already breaking over the hills.”

Oh! not all the pleasures that poets may praise,—
Not the wildering waltz in the ballrooms blaze,
Nor the chivalrous joust, nor the daring race,
Nor the swift regatta, nor the merry chase,
Nor the sail heaving waters o’er,
Nor the rural dance on the moonlight shore,—
Can the wild and fearless joy exceed
Of a fearless leap on a fiery steed.

Romance enters into ownership of pet animals. Probably “Button” was _just_ a dog and “Billy” _only_ a horse. But one has said that the right of ownership is the cornerstone of civilization. Ownership of what is worthy of love at least enriches character—contributes to the happiness of human existence. If the Father of his Country was right, that the object of all government is the happiness of the people, then the love of animals serves a very high purpose.

With the first “gold dust” suddenly acquired, an illiterate Western miner built on the desert a stone mansion. He ornamented it with gold door knobs door hinges of silver—the doors opening but to golden keys.

Yet some there be that by due steps aspire
To lay their just hands on that golden key,
That opes the palace to eternity,—
To such my errand is:—

Where human beings throng, and men and women suffer, Clara Barton built a structure and ornamented it with a RED CROSS on a white ground—the emblem of service to the suffering. With unusual earning capacity for seventy-five years, and at all times practicing greatest economy, Clara Barton’s ownership at her passing was but $21,000. The Glen Echo Red Cross home that had been used, free of cost to the RED CROSS, was valued at $5,000. While the owner lived she continued to keep it as a charity center—a home for the homeless and indigent—ex-soldiers, civilians, children.

In her closing years she had, therefore, for her own personal and exclusive use in money and realty, not to exceed $21,000. This was nine thousand dollars less than the value of her property when she first became interested in Red Cross work. “Mere money,” she said, “never separates me from my friends. I don’t care for money; I wish only not to become an object of charity, and to be a burden to my friends when I am unable to work for others.”

BIRTHPLACE OF CLARA BARTON, NEAR OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS

On March 14, 1921, the title to the Barton Homestead was transferred
by Carl O. Carlson to The Woman’s National Missionary Society of the
Universalist Church. It is now known as The Clara Barton Memorial
Home. Mementoes, Red Cross literature and all else possible to
obtain that appertain to Clara Barton’s life work will be assembled
here and become a part of the Memorial. The homestead consists of
the house where Clara Barton was born, and eighty-five acres of
land. It was dedicated as a shrine for the public, October 12, 1921.

Arrow points to the room where Clara Barton was born. Size of the room
8 × 10 feet. Ceiling 8 feet high. Clothes closet 5 feet 2 inches × 2
feet 5 inches. Two windows each 4 feet 5 inches high × 2 feet 3
inches wide. Two sashes in each window; six panes of glass in each
sash.
]

OFFICERS OF THE W. N. M. A. PRESENT AT THE DEDICATION OF THE CLARA
BARTON MEMORIAL ON OCTOBER 12, 1921.

Left to Right: Mrs. Bertram O. Blaisdell, Trustee; Mrs. Ethel M.
Allen, Rec. Sec’y (now President); Mrs. Marietta B. Wilkins,
President; Mrs. Fred A. Moore, Literature Secretary; Miss Susan M.
Andrew, Trustee (Chairman Clara Barton Guild).
]

VIII

Every child in the country has known of Clara Barton.

Oakland (Calif.) _Tribune_.

Pestalozzi was the Father of the Public School; Washington the Father
of his Country; Lincoln, the Father of a Race; Clara Barton, the
Mother of the Red Cross. THE AUTHOR.

The building which housed Clara Barton in her efforts for popular
education is still standing along with other historic landmarks.

Bordentown (N. J.) _Register_.

If you will let me try, I will teach the children free for six months.
CLARA BARTON.

I thank God that we have no free schools—in the colony—and I hope we
shall not have these hundred years.

GOVERNOR BERKELEY of Virginia in 1670.

The first incorporation to provide free schools, under the provisions
of the State, was passed in New York in 1805.

THE MODERN SCHOOL SYSTEM.

The basis of free government is in education; in a republic the hope
of the millions is the free public school.

THE TWO REPUBLICS.

The hope of all modern civilization is the public free school.

ANCIENT SCHOOL SYSTEMS.

I taught in an uninclosed shed at North Oxford, there being no house
for that purpose. CLARA BARTON.

The first meetings for the establishment of a kindergarten system at
Washington was held at the Clara Barton home, in Washington; among
others present Phoebe Hearst and Mrs. Grover Cleveland, wife of the
President, the chairman. THE AUTHOR.

Let us live in our children. FREDERICK FROEBEL.

PAUPER SCHOOLS; FROM SIX TO SIX HUNDRED

New Jersey had no public schools. The people said they were not paupers and would not have their children taught at public expense—would not send them to “pauper schools.” In New Jersey Clara Barton opened, for the first time, what was called a “free school for paupers.” Since those puritan days, what a change in public sentiment! Then it was “Pauper school” education; now

Free education is the poor man’s marble staircase that leads upward,
and into, the palaces of wealth, health and happiness.

Clara Barton was told that a public school was impossible; every time it had been tried, it had failed. At Bordentown she found herself with six bright boys, and the public school[2] commenced. At the end of twelve months her six pupils had grown to six hundred pupils—among whom no corporal punishment had been administered.

Footnote 2:

The School Building, erected in 1837. School taught by Clara Barton,
in 1853. Building and site the property of New Jersey, purchased
through contributions by teachers and pupils. Building dedicated June
11, 1921, and now known as The Clara Barton Memorial School but used
as a Clara Barton Museum.

“Pauper schools” became thence in fact the free public school; now the free public school is the one institution from whose flagstaff freedom’s flag is never hauled down.

IX

Clara Barton taught the rich to be unselfish and the strong to be
gentle. CHARLES E. TOWNSEND, U. S. Senate.

Her voice was soft,
Gentle and low; an excellent thing in woman.
SHAKESPEARE.

Miss Barton was a soft-voiced, retiring little woman, yet she had a
way of approaching her work in a most telling manner.

Buffalo (N. Y.) _Express_.

Miss Barton followed her own light with steadfast steps.

Springfield (Mass.) _Republican_.

Clara Barton—a model of the beautiful simplicity of a life given to
others. Bridgeport (Conn.) _Standard_.

The severest test of discipline is its absence. CLARA BARTON.

Social, friendly and human, Clara Barton joined with the children in
the playgrounds;—instead of being locked out as the previous teachers
had been she “locked” herself “in” the hearts of every boy and girl.
_The Life of Clara Barton_, by Epler.

Show me a child well disciplined, perfectly governed at home, and I
will show you a child that never breaks a rule at school.

CLARA BARTON.

Whenever corporal punishment is inflicted on a pupil it is a sign of
negligence and indolence on the part of the teacher, says Seneca.

ANCIENT SCHOOL SYSTEMS.

In refinement of taste and beauty of action, or purity of thought and
delicacy of expression, nature’s own best teacher is woman.

THE MODERN SCHOOL SYSTEM.

CHILD LOVE—JOE AND CHARLIE—APPRECIATION

To the child nothing is small; nor does the child forget. Whatever kindness comes to the child is stored in one of the cells of the brain for future years. As an heirloom, the longer it is possessed the more it is cherished.

Referring to her teacher of long ago, Dr. Eleanor Burnside recently related this incident in her school life: “I recall when a little girl in her school Clara Barton’s friendly interest in the progress of her pupils; unvarying patience, no matter what the circumstances might be. I do not think she knew how to scold, nor were scoldings and other manifestations of ill temper necessary. Her quiet, firm word, pleasantly expressed, seemed sufficient always.”

Speak gently; it is better far
To rule by love than fear—

Speak gently; ’tis a little thing
Dropped in the heart’s deep well;
The good, the joy, which it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.

Not easily disturbed, Miss Barton did not notice little misdemeanors by the children at all. She seemed not to observe one day when some fun was started by a boy sitting back of Joe Davis. The mischievous boy was putting his finger in Joe’s red hair and pretending his finger was burnt. Of course it amused the children, but only for a moment. To govern too much is worse than to govern too little. This was an incident merely of a child’s humor, requiring no reprimand. “But no matter what happened, Clara Barton did not scold. Her pupils loved her and that made what she did, and what she said too, right.”

The old desk used by Clara Barton recently has been found in possession of one of the old families at Bordentown, New Jersey. By tracing back the ownership it has been proved conclusively to be the original desk used by Miss Barton. The desk refuted the libel that she was a disciplinarian, and not a humanitarian. The libel referred to was that she had a particularly unruly boy; that she seized him by the nape of the neck, lifted the lid of the desk and dropped him inside. Now that the desk has been discovered, her admirers point to the interesting fact that it doesn’t have a top lid; it has a small drawer.

Childhood is ever of the living present. Up the stream of time the eye keeps fixed on memory’s treasures of youth. In one of the battles of the Civil War, Clara Barton stooped down to place the empty sleeve, then useless to the bullet-shattered right arm, over the shoulder of a soldier boy. Recognizing the face of his former teacher the fair-haired lad dropped his face into the folds of her dress, then threw his left arm around her neck, in deepest grief, crying: “Why, Miss Barton, don’t you know me? I am Charlie Hamilton who used to carry your satchel to school.”

X

Like a patriotic soldier Clara Barton responded in the youth of her
womanhood to the call of service to others.

York (Pa.) _Gazette_.

Clara Barton is one of the greatest heroic figures of her time.

_Buffalo Press._

Clara Barton—our greatest national heroine. _Literary Digest._

We reckon heroism today, not so much on account of the thing done as
the motive behind the act. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW.

Yes, it is over. The calls are answered, the marches have ended, the
nation saved. CLARA BARTON.

The best blood of America has flowed like water.

CLARA BARTON.

The soldier is lost in the citizen. CLARA BARTON.

The proudest of America’s sons have struggled for the honors of a
soldier’s name. CLARA BARTON.

Their glory, bright as it shone in war, is out-lustered by the
nobleness of their lives in peace. CLARA BARTON.

I shall never take to myself more honesty of purpose, faithfulness of
zeal, nor patriotism, than I award to another. CLARA BARTON.

What can be added to the glory of a nation whose citizens are its
soldiers? Whose warriors, armed and mighty,—spring from its bosom in
the hour of need, and peacefully retire when the need is over. CLARA
BARTON.

I have taught myself to look upon the government as the band which the
people bind around a bundle of sticks to hold it firm, where every
patriot must grapple the knot tighter.

CLARA BARTON.

If our government be too weak to act vigorously and energetically,
strengthen it till it can act; then comes the peace we all wait for,
as kings and prophets waited—and without which like them we seek and
never find. CLARA BARTON.

Henry Wilson worked on a farm at six dollars per month. Then he tied
up his scanty wardrobe in a pocket handkerchief, and walked to Natick,
Massachusetts, more than one hundred miles, to become a cobbler. The
trip cost him but $1.88.

HENRY MAKEPEACE THAYER.

I am the son of a hireling manual laborer who, with the frosts of
seventy winters on his head, lives by daily labor. I too lived by
daily labor. HENRY WILSON.

Henry Wilson, born in New Hampshire, February 16, 1812; elected to U.
S. Senate, 1855; elected Vice-President, 1872; died November 22, 1875.
THE AUTHOR.

We should yield nothing to our principles of right.

HENRY WILSON.

The sorrows of drunkenness glare on us from the cradle to the grave.
HENRY WILSON.

I would not have upon my soul the consciousness that I had by precept
or example lured any young man to drunkenness for all the honors of
the universe. HENRY WILSON.

Clara Barton’s never-failing friend, Senator Henry Wilson.

PERCY H. EPLER.

TEMPERANCE—CLARA BARTON AND THE HIRED MAN—STRANGER THAN FICTION

Way back in 1857 in Worcester, Massachusetts, Clara Barton showed her humanitarian spirit and organization ability. Under the Reverend Horace James, she assisted in the organization of the Band of Hope,[3] a society originating in Scotland whose object was: “To Promote the Cause of Temperance and Good Morals of the Children and Youth.”

Footnote 3:

First Temperance Society organized in America, in 1789; First National
Temperance Convention, in 1833; a “temperance revolution” urged, in
1842, by Abraham Lincoln; Women’s Christian Temperance Union organized
in 1874; National Prohibition went into effect January 16, 1920.

On the breaking out of the Civil War, the Reverend James became Chaplain of the Twenty-fifth Massachusetts Regiment, and two of the boys that Clara Barton induced to join the society became officers of the Fifty-seventh Massachusetts Regiment. One was Colonel J. Brainard Hall and the other Captain George E. Barton. At the Battle of the Wilderness the Colonel Hall referred to was seriously, then thought to be fatally, wounded. Clara Barton was the first at his side to nurse, and to care for, him. As soon as he was able to be moved, she sent him to Washington to be cared for there by one whom she told him was her very dear friend. Stranger than fiction, on reaching Washington, Colonel Hall discovered this friend to be the “Hired Man,” previous to 1839, who worked in his grandmother’s shoe-shop,—the late Henry Wilson, Vice-President of the United States.

XI

Every woman who loves her country and who realizes what true
patriotism means will always revere the name of Clara Barton, and
connect it with the highest ideal of service to one’s country. DR.
ANNA H. SHAW _President American Woman Suffrage Association_.

Clara Barton has won the hearts of the women of the world. CARRIE
CHAPMAN CATT, _President American Woman Suffrage Association_.

John Marshall, for thirty-five years Chief Justice of the U. S.
Supreme Court, held the female sex the equals of men.

JUSTICE JOSEPH STORY.

I had not learned to equip myself—for I was no Pallas ready armed but
grew into my work by hard thinking and sad experience.

CLARA BARTON.

I am a woman and know what barriers oppose all womanly efforts.
HARRIET G. HOSMER.

Clara Barton is the best clerk, either man or woman, I ever had in my
office. MR. MASON, _Commissioner of Patents_.

It is less difficult for a woman to obtain celebrity by her genius
than to be forgiven for it. BRISSOT.

Only the machinery and plans of Heaven move unerringly and we
short-sighted mortals are, half our time, fain to complain of these.
CLARA BARTON.

It is possible for the wisest even to build better than he knows.

CLARA BARTON.

Who furnished the Armies; who but the Mothers? Who reared the sons and
taught them that liberty and their country was worth their blood? Who
gave them up and wept their fall, nursed them in their suffering and
mourned them, _dead_? CLARA BARTON.

There is none to give woman the right to govern herself, as men govern
themselves by self-made and self-approved laws of the land.

CLARA BARTON.

Only the Great Jehovah can crown and anoint man for his work, and he
reaches out and takes the crown and places it upon his head with his
own hand. CLARA BARTON.

Whenever I have been urged as a petitioner to ask equal suffrage for
women a kind of dazed, bewildered feeling comes over me.

CLARA BARTON.

In making an appeal to her soldiers for “votes for women” Clara Barton
said: “When you were weak and I was strong, I toiled for you; now you
are strong, and I am weak. Because of my work for you, I ask your aid;
I ask the ballot for myself and my sex. As I stood by you, I pray you
stand by me and mine.” THE AUTHOR.

Clara Barton advocated “Votes for Women” on the platform of the First
National Suffrage Convention in this country.

Buffalo (New York) _Courier_.

LOOKING FOR A JOB—EQUAL SUFFRAGE

Among the ancients, controlling the certain affairs worthy of man, were many goddesses; of these, Venus, Ceres, Juno, Diana, Pomona, Minerva. Such man’s inherent respect for femininity that feminine names in classic days were given to temples of worship; to the continents, Europe, Asia, Africa, and later to America.[4] Feminine names with few exceptions, also, have been given to all countries,—“she” and not “he,” likewise the word used to identify great things mechanical and useful. Long and hard has been the contest for woman to achieve in fact what in spirit seemingly comports with womanhood. In this contest through the last half of the nineteenth, and the first half of the twentieth, century Clara Barton was conspicuous.

Footnote 4:

In 1507, by Martin Waldseemuller, the name of America was given to the
then newly discovered continent.

THE SCHOOL HOUSE

Built of brick, in 1839, where Clara Barton taught school in 1853. See
page 47.
]

THE DESK USED BY CLARA BARTON

See page 47.
]

HISTORIC IN EDUCATION

Bordentown, N. J.

THE CLARA BARTON MUSEUM

The old school house reconstructed. See page 47.
]

Alone in the world, dependent upon her own efforts for a living and looking for a “job,” the following is what in letters Miss Barton says of herself in 1854 and 1860 respectively:

In a letter to her friend Miss Lydia F. Haskell, Washington, D. C., January 20, 1854, Clara Barton said:

“Well, I am a clerk in the United States Patent Office, writing my
fingers stiff every day of my life.... The truth is, I have written
nights until one or two o’clock for the last two weeks. I shall not be
so very busy long. I am just now fitting the mechanical report for the
press; that off my hands and I shall be quite at ease, I suppose.”

In a letter to Frank Clinton, Bordentown, New Jersey, dated January 2, 1860, Clara Barton said:

“I can teach English, French, drawing and painting.... I am a rapid
writer or copyist, and have the reputation of being a very good
accountant ... and if, in your travels through the South, you see an
opening for me, tell me.”

As the pioneer woman in Government service Clara Barton was the object of commiseration. And only because she was a woman, she suffered through jeers and hoots and cat-calls, and tobacco smoke in her face, and slanderous whisperings in the hallways and boisterous talks about “crinoline”—all sorts of offensiveness, on the part of Government employees. Clara Barton in the public school, in the patent office, in the Civil War, in the Franco-Prussian War, in the Cuban War, in national disasters, in the presidency of the Red Cross, now filled by the President of the United States, is a series of object lessons of the greatest significance in the progress of womankind in the public service. Clara Barton the _intruder_ among men in the patent office in 1855, and Jeannette Rankin, the _honorable_ among men in Congress in 1918, are the exponents respectively of two conditions of American sentiment as to the public function of women in the United States.

Possibly because of her sad experience as a woman in the public service, she became one of those who, with Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and other suffragettes, blazed the way to equal rights for women—equal rights now approved by the President, the United States Congress and the American people. At a meeting of the American Suffrage Association held in Washington, D. C., in language most caustic and argumentative, in part in a public address Clara Barton said:

A woman shan’t say there shall be no war—and she shan’t take any part
in it when there is one; and because she doesn’t take part in the war,
she must not vote; and because she can’t vote she has no voice in her
Government. And because she has no voice in her Government she is not
a citizen; and because she isn’t a citizen she has no rights, and
because she has no rights she must submit to wrong; and because she
submits to wrong she isn’t anybody. Becoming optimistic, she said, the
number of thoughtful and right minded men who will approve equal
suffrage are much smaller than we think and, when equal suffrage[5] is
an accomplished fact, all will wonder as I have done, what the
objection ever was.

Footnote 5:

The Nineteenth Amendment to the Constitution proclaimed August 26,
1920.

XII

Clara Barton’s simple life was long, and so full of stirring incidents
that all the books will not record the whole of it.

Worcester (Mass.) _Telegram_.

Be not like dumb-driven cattle.

LONGFELLOW—_The Psalm of Life_.

The Ox has therefore stretched his yoke in vain.

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM.

And the plain ox,
That harmless, honest guileless animal,
In what has he offended? he whose toil,
Patient and ever ready, clothes the land
With all the pomp of harvest.
THOMPSON—_The Seasons_.

A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.

BRILLAT SAVARIN.

The sign of true, not casual, progress, ... is the progress of
vegetarianism ... more and more people have given up animal food.
TOLSTOI.

I had not then learned the mystery of nerves. CLARA BARTON.

CREDULOUS OX—INNOCENT CHILD—CLARA BARTON, A VEGETARIAN

Among the Puritans the horse was a luxury; the beast of burden was the ox. In the first half of the nineteenth century the ox made possible in Massachusetts even the existence of man. In the snows of winter, at seed time and at harvest, the toiling ox was loyal—faithful to the best interests of the family. The ox himself was unsuspecting, and untutored in the art of deceiving others. He couldn’t think his kindly attentive Master, Man, unappreciative, disloyal—wholly obsessed with greed. He didn’t know that money was above life,—he hadn’t read war-history. He didn’t know that through the love of money, by man, come life’s woes. The ox knew only that _he_ was the friend to man; and he thought man must be _his_ friend. Poor credulous ox! And yet in the child the friendship of the ox is not misplaced. Innocent child! to man and beast Heaven’s best gift, a loyal friend.

Captain Stephen Barton kept a dairy. When a small girl Clara used to drive the cows and oxen to, and from, the pasture. Clara also assisted morning and evening in milking the cows. One evening she observed three men, one holding in his hand an axe, driving a big, red, fat ox into the barn. She saw the man with the axe strike the ox in the head, then saw the ox drop to the floor. At the same moment she fell unconscious to the ground. She was carried to the house, placed on a bed, and a camphor bottle freely used. When she regained consciousness, in reply as to why she fell, she said: “Someone struck me.” “Oh, no, no one struck you,” they said. “Then what makes my head sore,” she asked. At that time her desire for meat left her; and in later years she used to say, “all through life to the present, I have eaten meat only when I must for the sake of appearances. The bountiful ground always yields enough for all of my needs and wants.”

ANNIE WITTENMEYER

Clara Barton is second to none of womankind.—MRS. ANNIE WITTENMEYER,
First President W. C. T. U.
]

JOHN B. GOUGH

Clara Barton’s lecture—I never heard anything more thrilling in my
life.—JOHN B. GOUGH, America’s Greatest Temperance Lecturer.
]

REPRESENTATIVE TEMPERANCE ADVOCATES

MARY STEWART POWERS

Clara Barton was prominent among women as an advocate of the cause of
temperance. Through her leadership in practical humanitarianism she
endeared herself to the whole world. Her good name will live
forever.—MRS. MARY STEWART POWERS, Public Lecturer and State
Superintendent of Scientific Temperance of Ohio.
]

FRANCES WILLARD
President W. C. T. U.

In the name of your God and my God, ask your people and my people not
to be discouraged in the good work (Red Cross) they have
undertaken.—CLARA BARTON. From Armenia, in 1896, to Miss Willard.

See page 347.
]

XIII

The Mother, patriot though she were, uttered her sentiments through
choking voice and tender trembling words, and the young man caring
nothing, fearing nothing, rushed gallantly on to doom and to death.
CLARA BARTON.

The soldier’s fear is the fear of being thought to fear. BOVEE.

Self trust is the essence of heroism. EMERSON.

I have no fear of the battle field; I want to go to the suffering men.
CLARA BARTON.

I was always afraid of everything except when someone was to be
rescued from danger or pain. CLARA BARTON.

Like the true Anglo-Saxon, loyal and loving, tender and true, the
Mother held back her tears with one hand while with the other she
wrung her fond farewell and passed her son on to the State.

CLARA BARTON.

FELL DEAD ON THE GROUND BESIDE HER

The first time Clara Barton visited in New Haven, she wore a gray dress that had bullet holes in it—received in caring for the wounded at Fredericksburg. In describing the battle scene Clara Barton said: “Over into that City of Death; its roofs riddled by shells, its very Church a crowded hospital, every street a battle line, every hill a rampart, every rock a fortress, and every stone wall a blazing line of forts!”

At Fredericksburg
They rated blood as water,
And all the slope shone red,
Past Valor’s call
By bristling wall;
Defeat linked arms with slaughter
Astride the blue-robed dead.

As Miss Barton was being assisted off the bridge by an officer, an exploding shell hissed between them, passing below their arms as they were upraised, carrying away both the skirts of his coat and her dress. A moment later, on his horse, the gallant officer was struck by a solid shot from the enemy; the horse bounded in the air and the officer fell to the ground dead, not thirty feet in the rear.

In her usual modest manner, in relating _war incidents_, she described the experience to a lady friend and said: “I never mended that dress. I wonder whether or not a soldier ever mends a bullet hole in his clothes.”

XIV