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