Part 13

The Baba Tree (Quercus Alba), grown on Cedar Green Farm, Battlefield of Chancellorsville, Virginia. Planted April, 1912, on Woodland Farm, two and one half miles from Bloody Angle, of said battlefield. White oak trees nearby, eleven feet in circumference, whose age (estimated) is between two hundred and three hundred years.—WILLIAM H. LEWIS, Chancellor Virginia. ]

“Do you know, I can get no help here; I thought when I came here I could get all the help I wanted, but it seems to be something that neither love nor money will buy. Haven’t been able to get a nurse to wait on me. But my tenants on the lower floor are very kind, and bring me my meals. I feel very much alone. I am the lonesomest lone woman in the world. You do not know how much I appreciate your coming such a long distance to see me; it has done me so much good—”

Moved by a sudden impulse I took her right hand in mine, kissed it and said “God bless you!” Faster than the mind thinks, she raised up in bed with a “No, no”—caught my left hand in both of her hands so excitedly that I could not divine her movements, other than to suspect that I had performed a breech of decorum. Holding tight my hand in both of hers she kissed it, and with tears in her eyes said: “I’ll never see you again, this is the last—”

“Oh! yes you will,” I said.

“No, not again. Good-bye!”

“No, Miss Barton, I’ll not say good-bye to you; you cannot die. You will live always. I will only say—God bless you!”

And then, backing out of the room, facing her all the while and watching her changing expressions as the shadows played over her features,—waved a kiss, and said “God bless you!”

LXVIII

I think I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree. JOYCE FILMER.

The trees are monuments with a meaning, for they live gloriously just as did those for whom they are planted. CHARLES LATHROP PACK, _President of the American Forestry Association_.

The soil is right and the husbandman will not fail. CLARA BARTON, _President The National First Aid_.

There never was any heart truly great and generous that was not also tender and compassionate. SOUTH.

Life is war; eternal war with woes.

YOUNG’S _Night Thoughts_.

Before any great national event I have always had the same dream.

I had it the other night; it is a ship sailing rapidly.

A. LINCOLN.

Whichever way it ends, I have the impression that I shall not last long after it is over. A. LINCOLN.

O, I have passed a miserable night, So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams. KING RICHARD III.

Always there have been believers in dreams. From Genesis to Revelation we read of dreams and visions and their influence for good or evil upon the acts and lives of numerous characters in Biblical history. In Genesis, Jacob dreams of a ladder to Heaven; Joseph’s rise to eminence is based on dreams and his solution of them. The Revelation of St. John the Divine in its entirety is given to us as a vision seen while on the Isle of Patmos.

_Queen of the Romanies._

STORY OF BABA—DREAM OF A WHITE HORSE—LIFE’S WOES

While in Santiago Clara Barton was presented with a beautiful white Arabian horse, named Baba. Baba was a pacer and an ideal saddle animal. Miss Barton was fond of Baba, and Baba just as fond of Miss Barton. Having been bred and reared on the Island of Jamaica, Baba was very fond of bananas and, when Miss Barton brought from the store any of this fruit, her first thought on returning home was to share it with Baba. On one occasion, when her little nephew was out riding Baba, Baba spied a banana on the side of the road; he refused to go further, and insisted on turning around and going back. Not knowing why Baba acted in this way, the little boy kicked him, struck him with his stick, but Baba won out, went back and got the banana. After eating it, he went on as if nothing had happened. When Miss Barton found it out she scolded the little boy for mistreating the horse. And when it was explained to the boy he cried piteously because he had been so cruel, for he too was fond of Baba.

Baba was a great traveler. He visited New York, Massachusetts, and Virginia, always living on the best in the land. Baba made friends wherever he went for he was not only kind and beautiful but he was fond of children. Baba was never happier than when the children were on his back, having a good time. Baba passed his last days in a pasture in Virginia and as the favored guest of a good friend of Miss Barton.

In the absence of Baba from Glen Echo, Miss Barton would frequently dream of a white horse. To dream of a white horse, she interpreted, was a bad omen. When she heard of Baba’s death Miss Barton became very despondent, and said to the members of her household “this means that I am not going to stay here a great while.”

Clara Barton, who was at that time preparing for herself a monument, wished also a monument for Baba. She philosophizes and thinks it should be a tree—the longest-lived of all living things. Of a tree’s longevity there is of record in England an oak 800 years, an elm 2,600 years, one yew 3,000 years, and another yew, with a diameter of 27 feet, 3,200 years; in Africa, baobabs 4,000 years; near the Castle of Chapultepec, Mexico, a cypress 26 feet in diameter, and said to be 6,000 years old.

Of the first class at Bowdoin was George Thorndike. He planted the Bowdoin Oak, and is the only one of that class remembered by the students of that American college. The boy died in 1802, at the age of twenty-one years, but the tree is still the pride of that great institution of learning, and sacred to the memory of him who planted it.

In this instance, Miss Barton thought “Woodman, spare that tree” might be a sentiment to be respected for hundreds of years. She, therefore, selected for a monument to Baba a tree,

Jove’s own tree, That holds the woods in awful sovereignty.

Characteristic of the heart that quickened to sympathy for life’s woes the peoples of the world is the sentimental philosophizing of Clara Barton on the death of Baba in the following remarkable letter:

Glen Echo, Maryland, November 19, 1911.

My Dear Mr. Lewis:

Your letter telling me of the last of our dear Baba came yesterday; and I hasten to reply, for I know you need sympathy as well as myself. We both loved him, and are alike grieved; and yet there is much to be thankful for. He went quickly and was not left to suffer, nor to give pain or trouble to others.

His future care and keeping are no longer questions. He no more needs me. He lived without harm and died well. I do not think he ever knowingly nor intentionally did a wrong thing in his life. Could a human being blest with intelligence and language do better? He had a language of his own which we both understood, and I always felt that he largely understood ours. Kindly as a brother and obedient as a child,—I am glad my last act was for his welfare. He lived with you, and loved you, to the last. He has gone from our hands and our care, leaving with us a loving memory tinctured with respect for the virtues he possessed, and knew not of.

Let me thank you, dear Mr. Lewis, for the tender care given his remains, and for the grave you have given him on your own farm. Some time when the spring days come, if you see a thrifty oak sapling and have time, will you kindly transplant it beside the grave? His body will nourish it, and let it be his monument. The children will love and protect it as Baba’s tree. His saddle and bridle you ask; you keep them and his little belongings as no one else could hold them so tenderly as you.

I will take back the check for his winter feed as useless now; but wish to enclose in this ten dollars for the last tender care and burial, with the assurance that you will always hold a high place in my esteem and affection for the kind and manly part you have taken in this little episode of life’s woes.

Let me repeat from your letter this sentiment, the hope that we may be friends while life shall last.

Yours gratefully, CLARA BARTON.

LXIX

Resolved, in behalf of the State of Texas especially does the legislature thank Clara Barton, President of the Red Cross Society.

Approved February 1, 1901.

A tribute of honor, of which sovereigns might be proud, clothed in language the eloquence of which our English tongue does not surpass. CLARA BARTON.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. ST. JOHN.

Clara Barton is the embodiment of the saving principle of laying down one’s life for one’s friends. Her achievements are greater than the conquest of nations or the inventions of genius, and who is justly crowned in the even-tide of her life with the love and admiration of all humanity.

Central Relief Committee of Galveston, Texas.

The name of Clara Barton has ever been a cherished one in our Southland, and the Red Cross the symbol of the most noble charity. MRS. ROSENE RYAN, Chairman, the Governor’s Relief Committee for Clothing, March 5, 1901.

It proves to us more strongly than ever, after the experience we have had since the arrival of Miss Barton, that “woman rules the world, as she has always done.” MRS. JENS MOLLER, of the Central Relief Committee, November 13, 1900.

No name in Texas is today dearer to its people than that of Clara Barton. Red Cross Committee, 1903.

How much of the heroic there is in our people when it is needed.

CLARA BARTON.

The Red Cross has come to be the first thought of any community suddenly overtaken by disaster. CLARA BARTON.

The Red Cross creates an organized neutral volunteer force, from the people, supplied by the people. CLARA BARTON.

The Red Cross is the outward and practical expression of that universal sympathy that goes out from millions of homes and firesides; from the heart of the nation to humanity in distress.

CLARA BARTON.

Not one dollar, for twenty years or more, on twenty fields of national disaster, has there been drawn from the Treasury of the United States,—the beneficence of the people through their awakened characters were equal to all needs. CLARA BARTON.

High or low, rich or poor, we are the people of this God-given nation; we are also the arbiters of its fate.

“For sure as sin and suffering’s born We walk to fate abreast.” CLARA BARTON.

I am here at Galveston, my fingers are in the wound, and I assure you that the side was pierced and the nails did go through.

CLARA BARTON.

Despite all its woes and terrors, the memory of Galveston comes ever back to me with a gleam of pleasure for the hope in humanity, which it has kindled, and the noble characteristics of our country which it disclosed. CLARA BARTON.

In every instance the gratitude of the people has been the glad heritage of the Red Cross and its willing servers.

CLARA BARTON.

PEOPLE, LIKE JACK RABBITS—NO “SHOW-WOMAN”

In 1900 a devastating flood visited Galveston. Thousands of human lives were destroyed. For two miles back from the shore not a house remained standing. Only here and there on the barren sands were seen the wreckage of the storm-swept city. Suffering and death held sway in that city of once happy homes. Clara Barton, with a corps of able assistants, was there having come from Washington at the urgent solicitation of the authorities of the City of Galveston.

From overwork and nervous strain she had been taken ill. She was in bed at the Tremont Hotel. For three weeks her life hung in the balance. The writer, with a party of California tourists, happened to be in the city on his way east. He incidentally “dropped in” the hotel, only to learn of the serious condition of his friend. Fanny Ward was standing guard at the door of the sick room. Undaunted, the writer ventured to suggest: “I’d like to see Miss Barton.” “Well, sir, you can’t see Miss Barton.” “Why not?” “She is ill, and nobody is permitted to see her.” “But she is a friend of mine.” “That makes no difference. I have orders from her physician not to let _anybody_ go to her room. No one but the nurse has been permitted to enter this room for three weeks.” “Well, if that’s so, I don’t expect to see her, but kindly take in my card.” “No, I’ll not do that either.” “Well, it seems strange to me that I cannot at least send a card of sympathy to my friend.” “Oh, well, if you insist, I’ll take in your card, but it won’t do you any good.” “All right, I insist.”

The messenger returned, and reported that Miss Barton wanted to see me and would be ready in about fifteen minutes, but she could see no one else in the party. As I entered the room, she was half sitting and half reclining in her bed, having two large pillows at her back. She had her hair neatly arranged, a pink bow adjusted tastefully at the neck, a little white shawl hanging loosely over her shoulders and otherwise attired as for a state occasion, as similarly was her custom when receiving any friend.

Miss Barton: “Mr. —— I am glad to see you. The Doctor said two weeks ago that I had but one chance to live. I told him that I would take that chance. I did; and I know I am going to get well.”

Mr. ——: “Miss Barton, do you know that on the barren sands between here and the shore they already have two or three ‘shacks’ going up?”

Miss Barton: “That does not surprise me. People are like jack-rabbits. Scared out of their nice warm nests, they soon forget and return from where they started. That whole sand waste will soon be built on again, and the people will forget that there has been a flood.”

M. ——: “Miss Barton, there is a very wealthy young lady in our party who wants to see you.”

Miss Barton: “But I cannot see her.”

Mr. ——: “I know, Miss Barton, but she told me to tell you that, if your assistant would open the door wide enough so that she could just see your face, she would give a hundred dollars to charity, and you could use it among the sufferers.”

Miss Barton: “I have worked very hard here, and am a very sick woman, but I have not yet become a ‘show-woman,’ and I don’t think I will. I do not understand such curiosity, nor why your young lady friend would care to see me,” and she unconcernedly passed on to another subject apparently more agreeable to her modest nature.

LXX

Clara Barton was loved by the people of the whole world.

_The Two Martyrs_—By HON. FRANCIS ATWATER.

Love is the life of the soul. WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING.

The law of Heaven is love. HOSEA BALLOU.

The soul of woman lives in love. MRS. SIGOURNEY.

Love—’tis woman’s whole existence. BYRON.

The religion of humanity is love. MAZZINI.

Love is the Amen of the universe. NOVALIS.

Love is indestructible; The holy flame forever burneth From heaven it came, to heaven returneth. SOUTHEY—_Curse of Kehama_.

There is in the heart of woman such a deep well of love that no age can freeze it. BULWER-LYTTON.

Love is the beginning, the middle, and the end of everything.

LA CORDAIRE.

Love lives on, and hath a power to bless when they who loved are hidden in their grave. LOWELL.

Julia—His little speaking shows his love but small.

Lucetta—Fire that’s closest kept burns most of all. _The Two Gentlemen of Verona._

CLARA BARTON’S HEART SECRET—$10,000 IN “GOLD DUST”

Clara Barton was very non-communicative as to her personal affairs, confiding in no one her heart’s secrets. But a woman’s curiosity got the best of the closest friend Clara ever had, and on a certain occasion “Sister Harriette” ventured to draw out of her heart what she had long wanted to know:

“Clara, have you never had a sweetheart?”

“Oh yes!” she replied, “just the same as all other girls.”

“But tell me about yours,” Harriette ventured further.

“I will, sometime,” Clara said.

“Oh, no, tell me now,” Harriette continued.

“No, not now—some other time I’ll tell you all about it,” persisted Clara. Then she said: “Oh, well, I’ll tell you I had a dear friend in my younger days, but he went to California in the rush to the gold fields with my brother David, and never came back.”

“Did you really love him?” asked Harriette again, trying to draw her out.

“Now, don’t ask me anything more, for I am not going to tell you,” replied Clara.

“But you said you would and I am really curious,” continued Harriette.

Clara hesitated, then said: “I don’t feel like it now, but sometime I’ll tell you the story.”

She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud, Feed on her damask cheek; she pined in thought; And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat (like patience on a monument) Smiling at grief.

On a certain other occasion it became necessary for her attorneys to know in detail of her finances, and their origin, so they plied her with questions:—

Attorney—Now, Miss Barton, tell us where you got all your wealth.

Miss Barton—I haven’t much wealth—what do you mean?—Everything?

Attorney—You inherited some money did you not? Tell us about that.

Miss Barton—I inherited, no—Oh! yes, I got some money once, but why should I tell you?

Attorney—It may be brought up in “the investigation” by the attorney on the other side and we don’t want any surprise sprung on us.

Miss Barton—Well, that seems reasonable—I’ll tell you. My brother and _another_ went to the California gold fields; my brother returned,—the other _never did_ return. But he left me all his savings, $10,000 in gold.

Attorney—What did you do with the $10,000?

Miss Barton—I always regarded this too sacred to use, so I placed it in a New York bank. This was in 1851. I kept it there on interest until President Lincoln commissioned me to look up the names of the missing soldiers. I did not consider it _too sacred_ for this purpose, and so in 1865 I drew it out of the bank, then with the interest about $15,000, and used it to pay the expenses....

The romance includes the trip in a sailing vessel around the “Horn,” the “49ers outfit” in San Francisco, and on the way to the “placer diggins,” the death scene in the pueblo of Los Angeles, the story of the sack of “gold dust” that reached the sweetheart, and its use later in giving cheer to thousands of unhappy homes.

Only on the two occasions were these disclosures of that heart secret, and yet visions of her sweetheart are said to have appeared to Clara in her dying hours. The most sacred of the heart secrets of womankind Clara Barton carried with her to the other world—a secret of her love affair which her closest friends think may have been the inspiration of her self-sacrifice for humanity.

LXXI

Clara Barton represented the spirit that knows not race nor color.

_New York Globe._

Charity and beneficence are degraded by being reduced to a dependence on a system of beggary. CLARA BARTON.

A grateful mind is a great mind. T. SECKER.

There is not a more pleasing attitude of mind than gratitude.

JOSEPH ADDISON.

A grateful mind is not only the greatest of virtues but the greatest of all virtues. CICERO.

Don’t kneel to me—that is not right. You must kneel to God only, and thank Him for the liberty you will now enjoy. I am but God’s humble instrument. A. LINCOLN.

Grateful to me! It is I who should be grateful, and I am.

CLARA BARTON.

We of South Carolina can never forget her contributions to the storm-wrecked people on our desolated sea-coast, after the fearful tempest of 1893. She came as an angel of mercy. With uncovered heads, and with profound deference, we bow to the blessed name of Clara Barton. _The Southern Reporter._

FELL ON THEIR KNEES BEFORE “MIS’ RED CROSS”

A terrific hurricane and tidal wave had struck the coasts of North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia. It was estimated that at least thirty thousand people were rendered homeless,—the larger number of these being of the colored population. Governor Tillman and Senator M. C. Butler sent an urgent request to Clara Barton to come to their assistance.

Clothing was so scarce among the poor colored people that only the men could appear on the streets. About four o’clock in the morning, a crowd gathered about the warehouse. Only men were present and these were attired in such garments as could be found, mostly ragged at the best. In some cases only rags were tied about them, just enough to enable them to come for their rations of food, for their starving families. A motley crowd it was, but there was never any jostling or crowding, nor confusion of any sort.

“Many pathetic scenes come to my mind as I remember this work,” says “Sister Harriette.” “When Miss Barton was engaged and could not be seen, it was my place to receive the visitors, ascertain their wishes, and dispose of them as seemed best. They called Miss Barton ‘Mis’ Red Cross,’ came to see her, sometimes in crowds and, when she was not otherwise engaged, they were taken to her office. Many of them were old women, and upon entering the room one and all fell upon their knees and bowed their heads, as if in the presence of a superior being. She approached them graciously; some seized her hands and kissed them; others reached a fold of her skirts and carried it to their lips, never saying a word, asking for nothing, satisfied with just being permitted to look at her. They left as quietly as they had come in and went out to their homes satisfied that they had been permitted to see ‘Mis’ Red Cross.’”

LXXII

While the American Navy (in 1899) was sinking the ships of Spain, the Spanish Cortes, by unanimous vote, granted Clara Barton a “Diploma,” a “Decoration,” and a “Vote of Thanks”; and following the war, a “Diploma of Gratitude.” THE AUTHOR.

I am with the wounded. CLARA BARTON.

Cuba was a hard field, full of heart-breaking memories.

CLARA BARTON.

Send food, medicine—anything. CLARA BARTON.