When They Were Girls

by Rebecca Deming Moore

It was Big Brother David who taught the little sister many things that were to make her a very practical “Angel of the Battlefield.” At five years of age, thanks to his training, she rode wild horses like a young Mexican. This skill in managing any horse meant the saving of countless lives when she had to gallop all night in a trooper’s saddle to reach the wounded men. David taught her, also, to drive a nail straight, to tie a knot that would hold, and to think and act quickly.

From her father Clara heard thrilling tales of his fighting in the Revolutionary War under “Mad Anthony” Wayne. These stories doubtless made a deep impression on the youthful listener. Little did she realize that in the years to come she, too, would play an important part on many battlefields.

Clara Barton attended a boarding school for a short time. However, she received her education chiefly at home, being taught by her brother and then by a tutor. Later she had an opportunity for more advanced study at a near-by school.

The little farm girl was busy and happy from morning until night, for she loved to do things. She went for the cows, helped with the milking and churning, and had a hand in planting the potatoes. When the house was being painted, she begged to help with that, too, and she learned how to mix the paint as well as to put it on. Once she went into her brother’s factory and learned how to weave cloth.

Her first experience as a nurse came at the age of eleven when Big Brother David was injured by a fall. For two years this cheerful, patient little nurse scarcely left his bedside.

When she was only fifteen years old, Clara Barton began to teach school. She taught well, too, for she understood girls and boys. It seemed as if she had found the work that she best liked to do. However, after eighteen years of teaching, her health necessitated her giving up this profession. Clara Barton did not know how to be idle, so she went to Washington and secured a position in the Patent Office.

When the Civil War broke out many wounded soldiers were brought to Washington. Clara Barton helped to care for these boys, some of whom were her former pupils from Massachusetts. She also sent out appeals for money and supplies.

As Miss Barton saw the wounded taken from the transports, she was extremely sorry for them because they did not have proper care. She felt that she must go to nurse the soldiers who were close to the battlefields. This was entirely against army regulations, but Miss Barton was very persistent. She was finally allowed to take her store of bandages and other supplies to the front, where they were most needed.

People used to ask Miss Barton if she had not always been brave. The woman who walked coolly through Fredericksburg when every street was a firing line answered, telling of her childhood: “I was a shrinking little bundle of fears—fears of thunder, fears of strange faces, fears of my strange self.” It was when the shy girl forgot herself in working for others that she forgot her fears.

Bravery and willingness to help others, however, would have been of little use to Clara Barton had she not been level headed. The ability to see what should be done next and to do it quickly and well were of equal value. It seemed as if Clara Barton worked magic, but her magic was only a mixture of common sense and a great pity for the suffering.