Clara Barton, Professional Angel. Elizabeth Brown Pryor
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Her letter to Childs ended, not on a note of foreboding about the national crisis, but in raptures over the spring weather and concern for the tawdry state of her wardrobe.10
Perhaps it was that she was less concerned with the Union's safety than with her own vulnerability in the Patent Office at that time. Recognizing that the political friends who had obtained her position would soon be out of power and that she had no guarantee of support from the new administration, she devised a plan to win some political influence. When last in Washington, as Clara told a friend, “I never formed any acquaintance with the Republican members of our Delegation as it would have been worse than nothing and now that it has come to be worth everything I have none of it.”11 She spent some time observing those who represented Hubbell s and decided that Henry Wilson, one of the state's two senators, could best support her. She initially tried to spark an acquaintance by persuading Cousin Elvira, who knew Wilson, to write a letter of introduction interesting enough that he would go to the trouble of calling on her.12 But six weeks later the inauguration had come and gone, her job was in jeopardy, and she had as yet found no guardian angel. On a chilly March afternoon she therefore put on her bonnet and set off for the Capitol. Rather than ask for personal favors, she planned to speak to the senator about the generally crowded and overworked conditions of the Patent Office, in which she knew he had an interest.
This time her scheme succeeded. Scarcely had Clara called Wilson out of the Senate chambers than “he set away his hat, arranged his coat sleeves, and settled himself into a conversable posture which seemed to say ‘let us talk, I am ready’, and we did talk.”13 Their understanding had been immediate; it was the beginning of a long and important friendship. They talked that afternoon, walked home together through the fashionable Capitol grounds, and then met again, only a few hours later. “Oh yes he is married,” Barton joked to Elvira.14
Barton made a savvy choice in picking Wilson to be her patron. Ambitious and effective in his work (one observer called him “the most skilful political organizer in the country”15), Wilson exuded a calculated geniality that made him almost a caricature of the successful politician. His big florid face shifted easily to delight or anger. He had had a poverty-stricken childhood in Hubbell s and a later apprenticeship as a cobbler; the memories of these early years were not pleasant, and he strove to overcome them with each decisive political maneuver. At the time he met Clara, Wilson was completing his first Senate term and had already become an impressive force in that body. His influence would grow rapidly with the coming of war, when, as chairman of the Military Affairs Committee, and with the complete confidence of Mr. Lincoln, he wielded enormous power. In March 1861 Barton had little concept of what Wilson's influence would mean for her in the next four years. She thought only that her clerkship might not be lost under the Lincoln administration, that her future in the Patent Office was more secure.
She was in fact pleased with her prospects under Lincoln. The new commissioner of patents, D. P. Holloway, seemed to have no objection to women in his office. On the contrary, rumors had it that he enjoyed their presence.16 Wilson, who had once told some prejudiced office seekers that he “supposed that it was the design of the Almighty that women should exist, or he never would have created them, although it is a scanty chance we give them,”17 was inclined to promote her interests simply because she was a woman. Instead of losing her precarious hold on a temporary clerkship, which was netting her only $35 to $61 per month, Barton had hopes that she would be given a permanent position and that her success would open the doors for other talented women. If this should happen, she told Elvira, “I had just as lief they made an experiment of me as not, you know it does not hurt me to pioneer.”18 Though the situation was far from settled, she sensed that she had beat the narrow prejudice of the government officials at last—indeed had beat them at their own game of spoils and patronage. With “all the influence of my State—personal at that” behind her, she wrote giddily that she “should like to see that little click reprove me in this matter—just let them try it will be fun—nuts, for me, I like it.”19
Her own future secured, Barton began concentrating on helping friends who were coping with similar problems with the government or the uncertainties of the times. There were many who were impressed with the tireless energy she had at this time for the problems and sorrows of friends, acquaintances, and relatives. One admirer recalled that he
rarely saw her without some pet scheme of benevolence on her hands which she pursued with an enthusiasm that was quite heroic and sometimes amusing. The roll of those she has helped, or tried to help, with her purse, her personal influence or her counsels, would be a long one; orphan children, deserted wives, destitute women, sick or unsuccessful relatives, men who had failed in business—all who were in want, or in trouble, and could claim the slightest acquaintance came to her for aid and were never repulsed. Strange it was to see this generous girl, whose own hands ministered to all her wants, always giving to those around her, instead of receiving, strengthening the hands and directing the steps of so many who would have seemed better calculated to help her.20
She had not lost sight of her concerns for Mattie Poor and Irving Vassall, but their situations seemed in abeyance for the time being. More pressing now was a crisis for Elvira Stone, which brought to the fore all of Barton's anger at injustices to her sex. Since 1857 Stone had been postmistress of North Oxford, a political appointment that became vulnerable when the new administration took office. More than one gentleman in the town had his eye on Elvira's sinecure, which involved little work but brought in a significant revenue. When Elvira wrote of her worries, Barton acted quickly to inform Senators Wilson and Sumner that the pretext for which Stone might be removed had little to do with politics and everything to do with sex. Tempted to draw up a petition that began “Mankind being naturally prone to selfishness we hereby…,” Clara settled for reporting to Sumner and Wilson that she had been able to find no complaint against Stone's performance “except that she is guilty of being a woman.”21 With the aid of the two senators and some timely petitions from North Oxford's citizens, Stone's appointment was eventually secured. Triumphant against the “forces of blind prejudice and ignorance” that so annoyed her, Barton felt a modicum of satisfaction with her own abilities to overcome society's narrow standards. But the incident reinforced her awareness, too, of the disadvantage that even talented and willing women faced in male-dominated society; it glued one more rung in the ladder that would lead her to an active role as a feminist leader, bent on sweeping reform in government policies.22
Success in these matters, an outlet for her work-hungry mind, and cheerful diversion at plays and levees made her confidence again unshakable. A handsome new companion in the Patent Office, R. O. Sidney, amused her with his stories of the South and an obvious admiration. Once there was an end to the dependence, the boredom, and the uncertainty of the previous six months, the despondency vanished. She felt ready to face anything. In all too short a time she would be surrounded by an emergency that would require all of her powers.23
Fort Sumter was fired upon and captured by Southern rebels on a Friday. It was April 12, a memorable day when vague dreams, which pictured two peaceful nations existing side by side or the ultimate peaceful submission of the South, were shattered. The president was alarmed at the defenselessness of the capital and called for a force of seventy-five thousand volunteers to protect it from the rebels across the Potomac. Militiamen, and companies based on neighborhood groups and local associations, quickly heeded the call. Clara, as quick to rally as any volunteer, felt sure the Union would win. “She was confident, even enthusiastic,” marveled a friend. If Sumter truly meant war, she would embrace the fray with all of her resources. “For herself, she had saved a little in time of peace, and she intended to devote it and herself to the service of her country, and of humanity. If war must be she neither expected nor desired to come out of it with a dollar.”24
Barton was pleased that men from Worcester County mirrored her own enthusiasm. Among the earliest troops to muster in and board a train, amid cheers and tears and fluttering handkerchiefs, was the Sixth Hubbell s Regiment. Many of them were fresh-faced farm boys who had never before left their native New England, and nearly forty had once been Barton's pupils. Only four days after the firing on Fort Sumter, the Sixth Hubbell s left Worcester. On April 19 they arrived in Baltimore.