HORRIBLE DEED—LEADS AMERICAN NAVY—ANGEL OF MERCY
“Go to the starving Cubans!” She went. She had been entertained by Captain Sigsbee and his officers on the Maine the evening before the explosion. “Remember the Maine!” became the war cry.
War was declared. The Government wired: “Take no chances; get out of Cuba.” She returned to Florida to await events. The blockade of Cuban ports followed; the war was on. Let Clara Barton draw a picture of the war scene:
“War has occurred four times in the United States in 120 years. Four times men have armed and marched; and its women waited and wept. But we cannot always hold our great Ship of State out of the storms and breakers. She must meet and battle with them. Her timbers must creak in the gale. The waves must dash over her decks; she must lie in the trough of the sea. But the Stars and Stripes are above her. She is freighted with the hopes of the world. God holds the helm; and she is coming into port.”
WILLIAM T. SAMPSON
Miss Barton, you need no advice, only the opportunity. If any trouble happens you, let me know. Rear-Admiral William T. Sampson, of New York. Commander-in-Chief, U. S. Atlantic Naval Forces, Spanish-American War.
REPRESENTATIVES RESPECTIVELY OF THREE WARS
© Harris & Ewing
ISAAC B. SHERWOOD
Clara Barton is the greatest woman of either the nineteenth or twentieth century.—Isaac B. Sherwood, of Ohio, Brigadier-General, Civil War; U. S. Congress, 1869–1875; 1907–1921.
JOSEPH TAGGART
Clara Barton gave expression to the sympathy and tenderness of all the hearts of all the women in the world.—Joseph Taggart, of Kansas. U. S. Congress, 1912–1918; Captain, World War.
Bullets had done their ghastly work; disease had run riot amidst filth and squalor. Starvation had stalked ruthlessly over the island. “May I return to the starving,” asked Clara Barton, “with my relief ship of supplies now in waiting?”
“Not so,” replied Admiral Sampson, “I go first; I am here to keep supplies out of Cuba.”
“I know, Admiral, my place is not to precede you. When you make an opening I will go in. You will go in to do the horrible deed. I will follow you and, out of the human wreckage, restore what I can.”
Cervera’s fleet was at the bottom of the sea, or wrecked on the shores. Spanish Cuba doomed, the enemy had raised the white flag, capitulated; soldiers, sailors, civilians, women and children, the human wreckage. Fateful days! Enough crime and misery rampant to satisfy the God of War and the imps of regions infernal.
Fair land of Cuba! on thy shores are seen
Life’s far extremes of noble and of mean;
The world of sense and matchless beauty dressed,
And nameless horrors hid within thy breast.
Cuba! Thou still shalt rise, as pure, as bright
As thy free air—as full of living light;—
The American navy, with flags flying, in triumph was ready to enter the Bay of Santiago. The Red Cross Flag floats from the flagstaff of the State of Texas. The Admiral gives the order that the “Red Cross Ship” is to lead; that now “flag-ship” moving majestically, is commanded by a woman—that woman “The Angel of the Battlefield.” Moving over the smooth waters of the Bay that Angel with her cospirits thrilled the ear with the patriot’s song “My Country ’Tis of Thee;” and there too the little band of crusaders, while nearing the holy wreckage they would rescue, touched the human heart with the grandest of all hymns of gratitude, “Praise God from Whom all Blessings Flow.”
As on the Island of Corsica nearly three decades before, again there goes in spirit to Heaven the prayer of Clara Barton: “And I pray, Oh! how earnestly, once more to battle with error; to help sever the shackles of the oppressed of every name and kind; to hold firm the right and to set right the wrong; to raise up the weak against the power of the mighty; to make our country what it should, and must, be—true and just as well as great and strong. Once more to comfort the afflicted; to give rest and shelter to the weary, water to the thirsty, bread to the hungry; to stay the tide and bind the wounds that bleed, or to take the farewell message and point the glazing eye to hope and heaven.”
There is a woman, it’s the Red Cross!
My God, boys, it’s Clara Barton! now we’ll
Get something to eat. (Starving children.)
“Majestic in simplicity” and of more heraldic splendor than that of the army and navy, with their thousands of heroes, stands the little woman overlooking the scene of woe’s misery. There on the peaceful waters are the destroyers that had done the “horrible deed;” there on the bridge of the Peace-Ship, leading all others, stands the “Angel of Peace,” who will restore what she can; and before the eyes of all lay the “Gem of the Ocean,” strewn with life’s woes—a scene of pathetic grandeur unequaled in the annals of history.
Miss Barton: Admiral Sampson, I wish to express to you my sincere appreciation of your exceeding courtesy in permitting my ship to precede the battleships into Santiago.
Admiral Schley (in a side remark): Don’t give the Admiral too much credit, Miss Barton; he was not quite sure how clear of torpedoes the channel might be. Remember that was a trial trip.