On the evening of the 14th of April, 1865, Clara Barton was at 488½ Seventh Street, Washington, D. C. She saw two men on the opposite side of the street, talking, and then excited men and women running up and down the street. Not long afterwards she heard the footsteps of a man pacing up and down the hall outside of her door, on the third floor. She cautiously opened the door to see who it was. In the hall she saw a sentinel, with his gun, passing—she wanted to know what it was all about. He said that he had been sent there to guard her, but could only tell her that a general massacre was feared. The sentinel stood guard there all night.
The news came sometime in the night that Lincoln had been assassinated, and that there was a plot to assassinate W. H. Seward, Salmon P. Chase, U. S. Grant, and Andrew Johnson; that they were protecting her because they felt sure that she was also to be attacked, as she was close to Lincoln. She did not close her eyes in sleep, but paced the floor until morning. In the morning she opened the door and saw another sentinel outside the door. This other sentinel said it would not be safe for her to leave her room; that if she would give him her order for breakfast he would see that it was served; that if she had any letters to mail to pass them out, but she must remain a prisoner for the present.
The first person that came to see her in the morning was a messenger from General Grant—to see if she were all right. Soon after this she heard that Lincoln had died,—another messenger brought her the news. Describing the terrible events of the saddest of all nights at the Capital, Miss Barton said: “I heard a great commotion in the street and looking out the window I saw strong men standing everywhere, crying.” The people still feared there was going to be a general massacre. At the end of three days Miss Barton was told she might leave her room. The body of Lincoln was taken to Philadelphia to lie in state at the old State House, Sixth and Chestnut streets. Miss Barton received a letter from General Grant, asking her to go to Philadelphia. The General sent a companion to accompany her on the trip. Clara Barton attended the memorial in the “City of Brotherly Love,” and there paid her last tribute of respect to her friend, the immortal Lincoln.
XC
It is a wise benevolence that makes preparation in the hour of peace for assuaging the ills that are sure to accompany war.
Clara Barton.
The thoughtful mind will readily perceive that these responsibilities incurred by relief societies involve constant vigilance and effort, during periods of peace. Clara Barton.
The Red Cross has stood, unrecognized in the shades of obscurity, all the eighteen years of its existence among us, waiting for sure, alas, too sure the touch of war to light up its dark figure, and set in motion the springs of action. Clara Barton.
The fundamental principle of good citizenship is willing acquiescence. Clara Barton.
It will be history by and by to whom Cuba belongs and, while one has to study to learn past history, it is not worth while to let slip that which is all the time making history in our day and generation. Clara Barton, in 1874.