of these miles of wreckage and the dead on the
Galveston seashore?

At this distant day it may be safe to tell. I recall that at the time
much criticism was indulged in.

All were burned.

The heat grew greater and the stench stronger every day. They tried to
remove the _debris_ and get the bodies out for burial. No human being
could work in that putrefying mass. Previously had come the glorious
thought of getting them into boats and shipping them a mile out to sea.
With hopeful hearts this experiment was tried for one day. Alas! the
night tide brought them all back to shore. The elements of earth and
water had refused--what remained but fire? Openings in the long
continuous lines were cut through at given spaces, the fire engines set
to play on the open, and the torch applied to the end of sections; thus
a general conflagration of the city was prevented, and from day to day
the pile diminished.

The stench of burning flesh permeated every foot of the city. Who could
long withstand this? Before the end of three months there was scarcely a
well person in Galveston. My helpers grew pale and ill, and even I, who
have resisted the effect of so many climates, needed the help of a
steadying hand as I walked to the waiting Pullman on the track,
courteously tendered free of charge to take us away.

This is a tedious story; but if gone through, one has a little insight
into the labor of a Red Cross field of relief. There are twenty in my
recollection, and this was by no means the hardest or the most useful.
They have been lived, but never told.

I beg my readers to bear in mind that this is not romance that I am
writing, where I can place my characters in the best light and shape
results at will, but history, with my personages still alive, ready to
attest the reality of this statement. That grand committee of Galveston
relief--than whom no nobler body of men I have ever met--are, I hope,
all yet alive to testify to the conditions and statements made.

I have dedicated this little volume to the people with whom, and for
whom, have gone the willing labors of twenty-five years--initial labors,
untried methods, and object lessons. Well or ill, they have carried with
them the best intentions and the best judgment given for the purpose.
Whatever may betide or the future have in store for the little work so
simply commenced, so humbly carried on, merely a helper with no thought
of leadership, it bears along with it the memori