Great doubt and dissatisfaction is felt here at the changeable course you seem to pursue—why you should propose to go first to the Black Sea, then to the Mediterranean, then not at all. Why to Smyrna, then to Alexandretta, points where nothing is the matter and no help needed? They feel that you do not understand your own course, or are being deceived—will never get into the country—a fact which, it is said, is clearly seen here.
To further elucidate the intense feeling in our sympathetic country we give a few sentences from other letters received at that time:
What are those folks doing over there? First we hear they are going to Harpoot by the Black Sea, next they have gone to Smyrna; there is nothing the matter at Smyrna; next to Alexandretta; what have they gone there for? that is no place to go; any one can go to Alexandretta. They don’t seem to know what they are about. They will never get into the country; we said so when they went; they ought to have known better themselves; we knew the Sultan would forbid them, as he has; they are only being duped.
Unpleasant and somewhat ludicrous as these criticisms were they served a purpose in coming back to us, as by them we were able to understand more fully the cables which had preceded them. “Give us news in full of your doings, it is important that we know.” Every cable was answered with all the news we could send by that costly method.
I had asked permission and escort for two caravans from Alexandretta, but had learned later from them that they would unite and go together to Aintab, in company with the Rev. Dr. Fuller, of that city, who requires no introduction to the missionary or religious world. At this junction Mr. Gargiulo, of the legation, came to me in great haste (he having been sent for by the Sublime Porte) to know where our expeditions were. They had provided for two and could only get trace of one; where was the other? Please get definite information and let them know at once. I had served on too many battlefields not to understand what this meant. I knew our men were in danger somewhere and some one was trying to protect them, and sent back the fullest information that there was but one expedition out, and waited. Two days later came the news of the massacre at Killis by the Circassians. Killis lay directly in their track, unknown to them, and the Turkish troops had unexpectedly come up and taken them on. I can perhaps, at this distant date, give no more correct note of this, and the condition of things as found, than by an extract from a letter written by me at the time to our world’s friend and mine, Frances Willard. We were at this moment securing the medical expedition for Marash and Zeitoun:
Dear Frances Willard: ... May I also send a message by you to our people, to your people and my people; in the name of your God and my God, ask them not to be discouraged in the good work they have undertaken. My heart would grow faint and words fail, were I to attempt to tell them the woes and the needs of these Christian martyrs. But what need to tell? They already know what words can say—alone, bereft, forsaken, sick and heartbroken, without food, raiment or shelter, on the snow-piled mountain sides and along the smoking valleys they wander and linger and perish. What more should I say to our people, but to show them the picture of what they themselves have already done.
The scores of holy men and women sustained by them, with prayers in their hearts, tears in their voices, hovering like angels and toiling like slaves, along all these borders of misery and woe, counting peril as gain and death as naught, so it is in His Name. But here another picture rises; as if common woe were not enough, the angel of disease flaps his black wings like a pall, and in once bright Zeitoun and Marash contagion reigns. By scores, by hundreds, they die; no help, no medicine, no skill, little food, and the last yard of cotton gone to cover the sick and dying. To whom came the cry, “Help or we perish! Send us physicians!” The contributed gifts of America open the doors of classic Beyrout, and Ira Harris, with his band of doctors, speeds his way. In Eskandaroon sleep the waiting caravans. The order comes, “Arise and go! henceforth your way is clear.” Camels heavy laden, not with ivory and jewels, gold in the ingot and silk in the bales, but food and raiment for the starving, the sick, and the dying. Onward they sweep toward dread Killis—the wild tribe’s knives before, the Moslem troops behind—“go on! we protect;” till at length the spires of Aintab rise in view. Weary the camels and weary the men—Hubbell, Fuller, Wistar, Wood, Mason—names that should live in story for the brave deeds of that march but just begun. The quick, glad cry of welcome of a city that had known but terror, sorrow and neglect for months—a little rest, help given, and over the mountains deep in snow, weary and worn their caravans go, toiling on toward fever and death. Let us leave them to their task. This is the work of America’s people abroad. My message, through you, to her people at home—not to her small and poor, but to her rich and powerful people, is, remember this picture and be not weary in well doing.
Clara Barton.
While the first and second expeditions were fitting out from Alexandretta, the terrible state of things at Zeitoun and Marash was confirmed by the leading missionaries there, and we were asked to assume the expense of physicians, druggists, medicines and medical relief in general. This we were only too glad to do. Negotiations had already been opened by them with Dr. George E. Post, of Beyrout, the glorious outcome of which was the going out of Dr. Ira Harris, of Tripoli, Syria, with his corps of local physicians, and the marvelous results achieved. For some cause the doctor took the route via Adana, rather than by Alexandretta, and found himself in the midst of an unsafe country with insufficient escort. After a delay of two or three days, he got a dispatch to us at Constantinople. This dispatch was immediately sent through our legation to the Porte, and directly returned to me with the written assurance that the proper steps had been instantly taken. On the same day Dr. Harris left Adana with a military escort that took his expedition through, leaving it only when safe in Marash.
Dr. Hubbell had arrived some days previous, but following instructions left immediately on the arrival of Dr. Harris, to pursue his investigations in the villages, and supply the general need of the people wherever found. This formed really the fourth expedition in the field at that early date, as the separate charges later so efficiently assumed by Messrs. Wistar and Wood, who were on the ground previous to the medical expedition, became known as the second and third expeditions.