CHAPTER V.
THE RED CROSS OF GENEVA
A week after the runaway the handsomest collar that could be bought intown was fastened around Hero's neck. It had taken a long time to get it,for Mr. Sherman went to many shops before he found material that heconsidered good enough for the rescuer of his little daughter. Then thejeweller had to keep it several days while he engraved an inscription onthe gold name-plate--an inscription that all who read might know whathappened on a certain July day in the old Swiss town of Geneva. On theunder side of the collar was a stout link like the one on his old one, towhich the flask could be fastened when he was harnessed for service, andon the upper side, finely wrought in enamel, was a red cross on a whitesquare.
"Papa Jack!" exclaimed Lloyd, examining it with interest, "that is thesame design that is on his blanket and shouldah-bags. Why, it's just likethe Swiss flag!" she cried, looking out at the banner floating from thepier. "Only the colours are turned around. The flag has a white cross on ared ground, and this is a red cross on a white ground. Why did you have itput on the collah, Papa Jack?"
"Because he is a Red Cross dog," answered her father.
"No, Papa Jack. Excuse me for contradictin', but the Majah said he was aSt. Bernard dog."
Mr. Sherman laughed, but before he could explain he was called to theoffice to answer a telegram. When he returned Lloyd had disappeared tofind the Major, and ask about the symbol on the collar. She found him inhis favourite seat near the fountain, in the shady courtyard. Perching ona bench near by with Hero for a foot-stool, she asked, "Majah, is Hero aSt. Bernard or a Red Cross dog?"
"He is both," answered the Major, smiling at her puzzled expression. "Heis the first because he belongs to that family of dogs, and he is thesecond because he was adopted by the Red Cross Association, and trainedfor its service. You know what that is, of course."
Still Lloyd looked puzzled. She shook her head. "No, I nevah heard of it.Is it something Swiss or French?"
"Never heard of it!" repeated the Major. He spoke in such a surprisedtone that his voice sounded gruff and loud, and Lloyd almost jumped. Theharshness was so unexpected.
"Think again, child," he said, sternly. "Surely you have been told, atleast, of your brave countrywoman who is at the head of the organisationin America, who nursed not only the wounded of your own land, but followedthe Red Cross of mercy on many foreign battle-fields!"
"Oh, a hospital nurse!" said Lloyd, wrinkling her forehead and trying tothink. "Miss Alcott was one. Everybody knows about her, and her 'HospitalSketches' are lovely."
"No! no!" exclaimed the Major, impatiently. Lloyd, feeling from his tonethat ignorance on this subject was something he could not excuse, triedagain.
"I've heard of Florence Nightingale. In one of my books at home, a_Chatterbox_, I think, there is a picture of her going through a hospitalward. Mothah told me how good she was to the soldiahs, and how they lovedher. They even kissed her shadow on the wall as she passed. They were sograteful."
"Ah, yes," murmured the old man. "Florence Nightingale will live long insong and story. An angel of mercy she was, through all the horrors of theCrimean War; but she was an English woman, my dear. The one I mean is anAmerican, and her name ought to go down in history with the bravest of itspatriots and the most honoured of its benefactors. I learned to know herfirst in that long siege at Strasburg. She nursed me there, and I havefollowed her career with grateful interest ever since, noting withadmiration all that she has done for her country and humanity the worldover.
"If America ever writes a woman's name in her temple of fame, dear child(I say it with uncovered head), that one should be the name of _ClaraBarton_."
The old soldier lifted his hat as he spoke, and replaced it so solemnlythat Lloyd felt very uncomfortable, as if she were in some way to blamefor not knowing and admiring this Red Cross nurse of whom she had neverheard. Her face flushed, and much embarrassed, she drew the toe of herslipper along Hero's back, answering, in an abused tone:
"But, Majah, how could I be expected to know anything about her? There isnothing in ou' school-books, and nobody told me, and Papa Jack won't letme read the newspapahs, they're so full of horrible murdahs and things. Sohow could I evah find out? I couldn't learn _everything_ in twelve yeahs,and that's all the longah I've lived."
The Major laughed. "Forgive me, little one!" he cried, seeing the distressand embarrassment in her face. "A thousand pardons! The fault is notyours, but your country's, that it has not taught its children to honourits benefactor as she deserves. I am glad that it has been given to me totell you the story of one of the most beautiful things that ever happenedin Switzerland--the founding of the Red Cross. You will remember it withgreater interest, I am sure, because, while I talk, the cross of the Swissflag floats over us, and it was here in this old town of Geneva themerciful work had its beginning."
Lloyd settled herself to listen, still stroking Hero's back with herslipper toe.
"He was my friend, Henri Durant, and in the old days of chivalry theywould have made him knight for the noble thought that sprang to flower inhis heart and to fruitage in so worthy a deed. He was travelling in Italyyears ago, and happening to be near the place where the battle ofSolferino was fought, he was so touched by the sufferings of the woundedthat he stopped to help care for them in the hospitals. The sights he sawthere were horrible. The wounded men could not be cared for properly.They died by the hundreds, because there were not enough nurses andsurgeons and food.
"It moved him to write a book which was translated into several languages.People of many countries became interested and were aroused to a desire todo something to relieve the deadly consequences of war. Then he called ameeting of all the nations of Europe. That was over thirty years ago.Sixteen of the great powers sent men to represent them. They met here inGeneva and signed a treaty. One by one other countries followed theirexample, until now forty governments are pledged to keep the promises ofthe Red Cross.
"They chose that as their flag in compliment to Switzerland, where themovement was started. You see they are the same except that the coloursare reversed.
"Now, according to that treaty, wherever the Red Cross goes, on sea or onland, it means peace and safety for the wounded soldiers. In the midst ofthe bloodiest battle, no matter who is hurt, Turk or Russian, Japanese orSpaniard, Armenian or Arab, he is bound to be protected and cared for. Nonurse, surgeon, or ambulance bearing that Red Cross can be fired upon.They are allowed to pass wherever they are needed.
"Before the nations joined in that treaty, the worst horror of war was thefate of a wounded soldier, falling into the hands of the enemy. Better athousand times to be killed in battle, than to be taken prisoner. Think ofbeing left, bleeding and faint, on an enemy's field till your clothes_froze to the ground_, and no one merciful enough to give you a crust ofbread or a drop of water. Think of the dying piled with the dead and leftto the pitiless rays of a scorching, tropic sun. That can never happenagain, thank Heaven!
"In time of peace, money and supplies are gathered and stored by eachcountry, ready for use at the first signal of war. To show her approval,the empress became the head of the branch in Germany. Soon after theFranco-Prussian war began, and then her only daughter, the Grand DuchessLouise of Baden, turned all her beautiful castles into military hospitals,and went herself to superintend the work of relief.
"Your country did not join with us at first. You were having a terriblewar at home; the one in which your grandfather fought. All this time ClaraBarton was with the soldiers on their bloodiest battle-fields. When yougo home, ask your grandfather about the battles of Bull Run and Antietam,Fredericksburg and the Wilderness. She was there. She stood the strain ofnursing in sixteen such awful places, going from cot to cot among thethousands of wounded, comforting the dying, and dragging many a man backfrom the very grave by her untiring, unselfish devotion.
"When the war was over, she spent four years searching for the soldiersreported missing. Hundreds and hundreds of pitiful
letters came to her,giving name, regiment, and company of some son or husband or brother, whohad marched away to the wars and never returned. These names could not befound among the lists of the killed. They were simply reported as'missing'; whether dead or a deserter, no one could tell. She had spentweeks at Andersonville the summer after the war, identifying and markingthe graves there. She marked over twelve thousand. So when these letterscame imploring her aid, she began the search, visiting the old prisons,and trenches and hospitals, until she removed from twenty thousand namesthe possible suspicion that the men who bore them had been deserters.
"No wonder that she came to Europe completely broken down in health, soexhausted by her long, severe labours that her physicians told her shemust rest several years. But hardly was she settled here in Switzerlandwhen the Franco-Prussian war broke out, and the Red Cross sought her aid,knowing how valuable her long experience in nursing would be to them. Shecould not refuse their appeals, and once more started in the wake ofpowder smoke, and cannon's roar.
"But I'll not start on that chapter of her life, for, if I did, I wouldnot know where to stop. It was there I met her, there she nursed me backto life; then I learned to appreciate her devotion to the cause ofhumankind. This second long siege against suffering made her an invalidfor many years.
"The other nations wondered why America refused to join them in theirhumane work. All other civilised countries were willing to lend a hand.But Clara Barton knew that it was because the people were ignorant of itsreal purpose that they did not join the alliance, and she promised thatshe would devote the remainder of her life, if need be, to showing Americathat as long as she refused to sign that treaty, she was standing on alevel with barbarous and heathen countries.
"For years she was too ill to push the work she had set for herself. Whenher strength at last returned, she had to learn to walk. At last, however,she succeeded. America signed the treaty. Then, through her efforts, theAmerican National Red Cross was organised. She was made president of it.While no war, until lately, has called for its services, the Red Cross hasfound plenty to do in times of great national calamities. You have hadterrible fires and floods, cyclones, and scourges of yellow fever. Thentoo, it has taken relief to Turkey and lately has found work in Cuba.
"I know that you would like to look into Miss Barton's jewel-box. OldEmperor William himself gave her the Iron Cross of Prussia. The Grand Dukeand Duchess of Baden sent her the Gold Cross of Remembrance. Medals anddecorations from many sovereigns are there--the Queen of Servia, theSultan of Turkey, the Prince of Armenia. Never has any American woman beenso loved and honoured abroad, and never has an American woman been moreworthy of respect at home. It must be a great joy to her now, as she sitsin the evening of life, to count her jewels of remembrance, and feel thatshe has done so much to win the gratitude of her fellow creatures.
"You came to visit Switzerland because it is the home of many heroes; butlet me tell you, my child, this little republic has more to show the worldthan its William Tell chapels and its Lion of Lucerne. As long as the oldtown of Geneva stands, the world will not forget that here was given auniversal banner of peace, and here was signed its greatest treaty--thetreaty of the Red Cross."
As the Major stopped, the Little Colonel looked up at the white crossfloating above the pier, and then down at the red one on Hero's collar,and drew a long breath.
"I wish I could do something like that!" she exclaimed, earnestly. "I usedto wish that I could go out like Joan of Arc to do some great thing thatwould make people write books about me, and carve me on statues, and paintpictures and sing songs in my honah, but I believe that now I'd rathah dosomething bettah than ride off to battle on a prancin' white chargah.Thank you, Majah, for tellin' me the story. I'm goin' for a walk now. MayI take Hero?"
A few minutes later the two were wandering along beside the watertogether, the Little Colonel dreaming day-dreams of valiant deeds that shemight do some day, so that kings would send _her_ a Gold Cross ofRemembrance, and men would say with uncovered heads, as the old Major haddone, "If America ever writes a woman's name in her temple of fame, thatone should be the name of Lloyd Sherman--_The Little Colonel_!"
The Little Colonel's Hero Page 6
