We are waiting at the cotside and closing their eyes one by one as they pass away … I cannot but think that we shall win at last, but oh the cost
When I reached [home], and looked in the mirror, my face was still the color of gunpowder, a deep blue. Oh yes, I went to the front!
It was a miserable night. There was a sense of impending doom. We knew, everyone knew, that two great armies of 80,000 men were lying there face to face, only waiting for dawn to begin the battle.
I only wish I could work to some purpose. I have no right to these easy comfortable days and our poor men suffering and dying thirsting … My lot is too easy and I am sorry for it.
Though it is little that one woman can do, still I crave the privilege of doing it.
I ask neither pay or praise, simply a soldier’s fare and the sanction of your Excellency to go and do with my might, whatever my hands can find to do.
I don’t know how long it has been since my ear has been free from the roll of a drum. It is the music I sleep by and I love it.
I may sometimes be willing to teach for nothing, but if paid at all, I shall never do a man’s work for less than a man’s pay.
The patriot blood of my father was warm in my veins.
I was lucky enough to visit this bit of hidden history while in town for an American Red Cross meeting. Even those of us familiar with Clara Barton’s story learned something. Well worth a visit!