Part 11

The destroyed villages and hamlets lay thick on either bank, and the steamer wove its course diagonally from side to side calling the people to the boat, finding a committee to receive and distribute, and learning as nearly as possible the number of destitute persons, put off the requisite quantity of clothing and coal, and steamed away quickly and quietly leaving sometimes an astonished _few_, sometimes a _multitude_ to gaze after and wonder who she was, whence she came, what that strange flag meant, and most of all, to thank God with tears and prayers for what she brought.

In this manner the Red Cross proceeded to Cairo, a distance of four hundred miles, where the Ohio joins the Mississippi River, which latter at that time had not risen and was exciting no apprehension. Returning, we revisited and resupplied the destitute points. The government boats running over the same track were genial and friendly with us, and faithful and efficient in their work.

It should be said that, notwithstanding all the material we had shipped and distributed, so abundant had been the liberality of the people that on our return to Evansville we found our supply greater than at any previous time.

At this moment, and most unexpectedly, commenced the great rise of the Mississippi River, and a _second_ cry went out to the government and the people for instant help. The strongest levees were giving way under the sudden pressure, and even the inundation of the city of New Orleans was threatened. Again the government appropriated money, and the War Department sent out its rescue and ration boats, and again the Red Cross prepared for its supplemental work.

In an overflow of the Mississippi, owing to the level face of the country and the immense body of water, the valley is inundated at times thirty miles in width, thus rendering it impossible to get animals to a place of safety. Great numbers drown and the remainder, in a prolonged overflow, have largely starved, the government having never included the domestic animals in its work of relief. This seemed an omission of vital importance, both humanely and economically considered, and the Red Cross prepared to go to the relief of the starving animals of the Mississippi valley. It would also supply clothing to the destitute people whom the government would feed.

The navigation of the Mississippi River calls for its own style of boats and pilotage, the latter being both difficult and dangerous, especially with the changed channels and yawning crevasses of a flood.

The steamer "Throop" was left at Evansville and the "Mattie Bell" chartered at St. Louis and laden with corn, oats, hay, meal and salt for cattle; clothing and cooking utensils for the destitute people; tea, coffee, rice, sugar and medicines for the sick: and as quickly as possible followed the government steamers leaving the same port with rations of meat and meal. These latter boats kindly burdened themselves with large quantities of our forage which _our_ overladen boat could not contain.

We soon found that our judgment in regard to the condition of the animals had been correct. Horses, mules, cows, sheep and pigs had been hastily gotten upon floating rafts and platforms of logs raised above the water, or had taken refuge, as many as could, on the narrow strips of land, known as broken levees, say eight to twelve feet in width, just peering above the water; and here they stood often crowded beyond the possibility of lying down, with no morsel of food save the wee green leaves and tips of the willow branches and gray moss which their pitying owners, largely poor negroes, could gather in skiffs and bring to them. Day by day they stood and wasted, starved, and their bodies floated down the stream, food for the birds of prey hovering above. Week after week hour after hour the mighty river, pouring through its monster crevasses, spread wider and wider every hour. We left our steamer at times and were rowed out in little boats for miles alongside of the levees, and went among the cattle. Some waded out into the water to their backs to reach after the green scum which gathered and swam delusively upon the surface. Some, unable to stand, lay stretched at length with head and horns dabbling in the mud, fearlessly turning great pitiful eyes upon us as we approached. Others, reeling, followed us tamely about, as if beseeching us to feed them. I need not add that they were fed. Committees of both white and colored persons were formed and the requisite quantity of food for the animals and clothing for the people were left with these committees at every needy point. Our steamer was reladen, or our supplies replenished at each available port, and in this manner we passed to New Orleans, and returning, resupplied our committees.

The necessity for a change of boat on the Ohio and Mississippi has been mentioned; that the "Throop" was discharged at Evansville and the Red Cross body passed over to St. Louis. Perhaps some reference to the journals of that date would best illustrate the necessity for these movements, as well as the spirit of the people and of the times.

From an editorial in the Chicago _Inter-Ocean_ of March 31, 1884, the following extract is taken:

The day is not far distant--if it has not already come--when the American people will recognize the Red Cross as one of the wisest and best systems of philanthropic work in modern times. Its mission is not accomplished when it has carried the generous offerings of the people to their brethren who have met with sudden calamity. It does not stop with the alleviation of bodily suffering and the clothing of the destitute--blessed as that work is, when wisely done, so as not to break down the manly spirit of self-help. The Red Cross has become a grand educator, embodying the best principles of social science, and that true spirit of charity which counts it a sacred privilege to serve one's fellowmen in time of trouble. The supplying of material wants--of food, raiment and shelter is only a small part of its ministry. In its work among suffering humanity, when fire or flood or pestilence has caused widespread desolation, the Red Cross seeks to carry to people's hearts that message which speaks of a universal brotherhood. It is all the time and everywhere sowing the seed of brotherly kindness and goodwill, which is destined in time to yield the fruits of world-wide peace. Once let the love of doing good unto others become deeply rooted and practiced as an international custom, and arsenals and ironclad navies will give way to the spirit of equity. War will cease as a relic of barbarism, and peace will shed its benedictions over all nations.

From the Evansville _Journal_ of April 3, the following:

The president of the Red Cross left for St. Louis last night, where she will take charge of a steamer which has been chartered under her direction for relief service in the lower Mississippi.... The mission of the Red Cross, which has done such wonderful and effective work in the Ohio valley, is not yet completed. The lower Mississippi cries for aid. The destruction of property below the mouth of the Ohio is, if possible, greater than was experienced on the Ohio. Life has not been in such desperate peril, but property has been swept away by oceans of water, and the landowner, with corn and cotton fields, has been reduced to pauperism.... This year the overflow has been of such a character that neither crop, mortgage, nor advance are safe, and the renter and half-share farmer must suffer. The Red Cross comes to the rescue. Miss Barton will be accompanied by several ladies from this city and will be joined by many gentlemen and ladies from St. Louis.

From the St. Louis _Democrat_, April 4, the following:

Miss Clara Barton arrived at the "Southern" yesterday morning. Miss Barton is accompanied by Mrs. De Bruler and Miss Enola Lee, of Evansville, Ind., Dr. J. B. Hubbell, field agent, and Mr. John Hitz, of Washington, D.C. The members of the party were busily engaged yesterday in superintending the loading of the steamer "Mattie Bell," which leaves for the inundated districts of the lower Mississippi this morning. Miss Octavia Dix, secretary of the St. Louis branch of the Red Cross, will accompany the expedition.

The brave men of the Fifth Corps in the Cuban War of 1898, endured hunger and thirst and other conditions better remembered than described. Some of them partook of the gracious offerings of hot gruel, malted milk, boiled rice, apple wine, and prune cordial at the hands of Mrs. Dr. Gardner. It will perhaps interest them to know that she is the same who, as Miss Enola Lee, was one of the company of the "Mattie Bell" in 1884.

Some of the men of the War of 1861 may remember the officer who had charge of the Commissary Department at Washington. I shall never forget the man who, despite all rank and position, stood many an hour of many a day beside my army wagons loading at his headquarters, and who wisely directed the selection of material best suited to and most needed at the proposed terminus of the dark and weary journey I was about to undertake--it was then Colonel, now General Beckwith of the regular army. He was in 1884, holding the position of Commissary at St. Louis. In the same old time spirit and in the old time way he came upon the deck of our little steamer, and directed the placing of the supplies of the "Mattie Bell." One will never forget the terror depicted on his fine face when he saw the bales of hay taken on board. "Great heavens, you are not going to risk that! Think of it--you in the middle of that great, rushing river, no land in sight, and your ship on fire!" Still, the risk was taken, and both the ship and the stock were saved.

A few hours previous to the sailing of the "Mattie Bell" from St. Louis a stranger came on board and asked to be permitted to go with us. There was nothing very remarkable in his appearance, either for or against; but on general principles we objected to taking on a stranger without some good reason for it. His quiet persistence, however, won, and perhaps through lack of active measures on the part of some one he went. He was a silent man--walked by himself, or stood alone on some unfrequented corner of the deck. As we got lower down and more tributaries were pouring their contributions into the mighty volume that rolled and seethed about and beneath us, the danger became more imminent. Running after dark was out of the question, and timely orders were given one afternoon to tie up for the night; but our captain, anxious to make a headland a few miles further on, begged permission to run a little later, sure he could reach it before dark.

His request was rather reluctantly granted, and as we steamed on a fog and mist came up and night set in with us still afloat. In less than a half hour the stranger rushed to me with: "We are in a crevasse! We must pull out or we are lost! I have warned the engineer and captain." The forward rush of the boat ceased; she stood still, pulled first one way then the other, shivered and struggled amid the shrieks of the reversed engine, while we waited, thoroughly aware of the situation and the doom awaiting us all, depending on the power and strength of one mute body of steel and one firm man at the helm. At length the struggling ceased; the engines had triumphed over the current. We commenced to move slowly backward, and with a grateful awe in our hearts that no words could express we found a place of safety for the night.

Daylight revealed to us a crevasse opened the day before where the river had broken through to a width of thirty rods, with the water pouring down a depth of twelve or fifteen feet in a perfect torrent into the current below, and rolling off in a self-made track to some other stream or to the Gulf of Mexico.

I have no way of accounting for this incident, but the reader will perhaps not be "too hard" on me, if I say with the father of "Little Breeches," "I have believed in God and the angels ever since one night last spring."

DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI.

Down the Mississippi all was changed. Two worlds could scarcely differ more. The ofttimes shoreless waste of waters; the roaring crevasse through the broken levees; the anxious ebony faces and the hungry animals that "looked up and were not fed," among whom and which we floated, could not fail to carry our thoughts back at times to the history of the Deluge and the Ark. The simile, however, had this important difference; we were by no means so good as to be preserved, nor they so bad as to be destroyed.

Any bare description of this voyage constitutes only the woody framework of the structure. You will readily imagine that, when it should be clothed with its ever recurring incidents it would become a very different edifice. Never a day that did not bring us incidents to be remembered, sometimes sad and touching, sometimes laughable or ridiculous.

The rough, tattered and uncouth garb of the Ohio River farmer and woodsman was offset by his quick wit and sterling sense, and the rude dialect of the Southern negro was buried out of sight by his simple faith. But the most touching of all was the honest gratitude which poured out on every side.

These people adopted the Red Cross and those who bore it, and we, in turn, have held to them. We selected helpers from among them, banded them together, gave them responsibility and thus made them mutual helps to each other and to us as well, in case of subsequent disaster.

One day as we were near the left bank of the river we saw a small herd of cattle wading out far into the water for what they could reach. A few cabins stood back of them. Steaming as near as we could we made fast to the body of a small fig tree and called the negroes, men and women, to us in their skiff.

It proved to be a little neighborhood of negroes with no white "boss," as they say, but had their own mules and cows and were farming independently. But the food and feed were gone. The government boats had passed without seeing them, and no help had come to them. Their mules and cows were starving; they had no one to apply to. They had their little church; and their elder, a good, honest-faced man, who led them onto the boat, told the story of their sufferings and danger. We selected two men and two women, formed them into a committee of distribution and wrote out formal directions and authority for them. But before presenting it to them to sign, I asked them seriously if we left these supplies with them if they thought they could share them honestly with each other and not quarrel over them.

They were silent a moment. Then the tallest of the women rose up, and with commanding gesture said: "Miss, dese tings is from de Lord; dey is not from you, caze you is from Him. He sent you to bring dem. We would not dare to quarrel ober dem things; we would not dare not to be honest wid 'em."

I presented the paper with no further pledge. It was signed with one name and three marks. The supplies were put off on the only little spot of land that could be reached. The negroes left the boat and stood beside the pile, which seemed a little mountain in the level space of waters. We raised steam and prepared to put off, expecting as we did so some demonstration, some shout of farewell from our newfound friends on shore and held our handkerchiefs ready to wave in reply--not a sound--and as we "rounded to" and looked back, the entire group had knelt beside the bags of grain and food and not a head or hand was raised to bid us speed. A Greater than we had possessed them, and in tearful silence we bowed our heads as well and went our way.

After the first rush of danger was over and repairs commenced among the business men, it was not always easy to find faithful willing agents to distribute supplies among those who had nothing left to repair but their stomachs, and no material for this.

At Point Coupee the Mississippi sends out a false branch of thirty miles in length, forming an island, and again joining the main river at Hermitage. These are known as False River and Island. The government boats had not entered False River, and there was great want among both people and cattle.

All the way down we were besought to hold something back for this point. At Hermitage we found the one business man, owner of the boat which plied the thirty miles of river, its warehouse and all. He, of course, was the only man who could take charge of and distribute relief around the island; and Captain Trudeau was sought. He was a young, active man, full of business, just pulling out of his own disaster, and did not know how to attend to it. "Guessed the trouble was most over up there; hadn't heard much about it lately." We knew better and felt discouraged that persons could not be found of sufficient humanity to distribute relief when brought to them.

I was sitting heart sore and perplexed in my stateroom trying to think out a way when two rather young women of prepossessing appearance entered with a bouquet of early flowers for me, introducing themselves as Mrs. and Miss Trudeau, wife and sister of the captain. I scarcely felt gracious, but those fair womanly faces were strong to win, and I entered into conversation asking Mrs. Trudeau what she thought of the condition of the people of the island. Her face grew sad as she said in touching tones, "Indeed, I cannot say, Miss Barton; my husband's boat runs around twice a week and I tried to go on it for a while, but the sight of such destitution and those starving cattle, mules, cows, horses and sheep were beyond my endurance. I had nothing to give them, and I could not see it, and so left off going."

"Would you ladies take the agency of the Red Cross to deliver supplies to these people?"

I shall not forget the appropriate and womanly manner in which this delicate lady received the abrupt proposition--no hesitation, no surprise, no self-depreciation, no simpering, but the straightforward reply, "We would, most willingly and gladly, and do our best. Our warehouse could store them, our boat take and we distribute them." The customary official document was at once drawn up and signed.

An hour later the busy captain rushed in to see how much was really expected of him.

"Captain," I said, "I have found agents to distribute our relief, and very satisfactorily, I think, and shall be able to release you from all responsibility." His fine face fell; he had not expected this and in spite of all did not relish being quite relieved from duty. I went on: "You will have some share in it, captain. For instance, you will supply storage in your warehouse; your boat will take supplies on any day when demanded. Your men will handle and load all material. You will, in short, provide all accommodations, do all the work, meet all the cost, obey orders implicitly, but have none of the credit! Mrs. and Miss Trudeau are my agents."

The good fellow fairly threw up his hat. "Good! That's just what I'm used to. It shall be done." And it was done; but how well it was done I could not describe to you--not only wisely and well, but elegantly.

The captain's warehouse had little empty space after our cargo of supplies had gone into it The next day but one would be the day appointed for Governor McEnnery, of Louisiana, to make at Point Coupee his re-election speech, which would call all the people of the island who could reach it to that point to see and hear the popular governor. The little steamer "Governor Wiltz" was laden with supplies, and under direction of Madame Trudeau proceeded to Point Coupee in order to meet the people, learn the needs, and inform everyone that supplies and relief were at hand. The gallant governor addressed the crowd from the deck of the "Governor Wiltz" under the Red Cross flag, and took passage on her down the river.

We resupplied these agents on our return. We did this all the way among both white and black. And from that time the Red Cross has had faithful, willing agents along all the uncertain track of the lower Mississippi.

Months later, in January, 1885, when a sea voyage, foreign travel, the cares of an international conference of military men, the splendor of foreign courts, much of weariness and illness had passed between, and I had thought all those little days of river work gone from memory, I found myself in the upper gallery of the New Orleans Exposition, and stepping in at a restaurant at the end of the hall was met by Colonel Lewis, the noted colored caterer of the South. He had been on the relief committee of New Orleans appointed to meet our steamer at the time of our visit in May.

He came with cordial recognition, seated me and was telling me of his success in the restaurant when all his waiters, men and women, seemed to forget their work and stood gazing at us. The colonel smiled and said, "They have caught sight of the Red Cross brooch at your neck and recognize you by it. They will come to themselves in a few minutes."