History in the Margins

Women of the Great War: Edith Cavell – “Patriotism is not enough”

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For the last four years, the hundredth anniversary of the First World War has been a continuing theme here on the Margins and in other places where history buggs hang out. Now the anniversary of the Armistice is less than a month a away. In recognition of that anniversary, over the next two monthsI will be sharing posts about women who played a role in the Great War. First up, a story of unbounded courage and kindness.

Not all the heroes of the First World War fought in the trenches.

Forty-nine year old British nurse Edith Cavell was the director of the first nurses’ training school in Belgium. When Germany occupied Brussels in the first month of the war, Cavell refused to leave. She turned her clinic into a Red Cross hospital and cared for wounded soldiers from both armies.

On November 1, 1914, Cavell took her heroism to a new level when a Belgian resistance worker brought two British soldiers to her door. Hiding Allied soldiers was punishable by death, but Cavell took the soldiers in without question. She hid them for two weeks while plans were made to take them across the border into the Netherlands, which remained neutral throughout the war.

These two soldiers were the first of more than 200 Allied soldiers whom Cavell helped escape from German-occupied Belgium during the first year of the war. Working with a resistance network, she provided medical care for wounded soldiers, hid the healthy until a guide could escort them over the border, and made sure they had money in their pockets for the journey.

Catching Cavell in the act became a priority for the German political police, who assigned an officer to the task full-time. Searches of the clinic became more frequent. (On one occasion she hid a wounded soldier in an apple barrel, covered with apples.)

On August 5,1915, the Germans arrested Cavell. Told that the other prisoners had confessed, she admitted during interrogation that she had used the clinic to hide Allied soldiers. Ten weeks later, Cavell and 34 other resisters were tried for assisting the enemy. Five, including Cavell, received the death penalty.

American and Spanish diplomats tried to get her sentence commuted without success; her execution was scheduled to be carried out the next day at dawn. When an English chaplain visited her that night to offer her comfort, he was surprised to find her calm and collected. Cavell told him, “I realize that patriotism is not enough, I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone.” As he left, Rev. Gahan told her,”We will always remember you as a heroine and a martyr.” Cavell answered, “Don’t think of me like that. Think of me only as a nurse who tried to do her duty.”

Cavell’s hope to be remembered “only as a nurse” was idealistic–and unrealistic. The British propaganda office at Wellington House used her story both to increase enlistment in Britain (the number of volunteers doubled in the weeks after her death) and to increase anti-German sentiment in the United States.

Road Trip Through History: The Things We Missed on the Great River Road, Part 2

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For those of you who are coming in late, My Own True Love and I recently took a week-long road trip along the northern leg of the Great River Road along the Mississippi River. We drove north to the river’s headwaters in Lake Itasca and then worked our way south to the Minnesota-Iowa border, stopping at anything that caught our attention.*

We saw a lot of fascinating things, but there were also plenty of things we missed, including:

  • The Friday night country swing dance at Huckleberry Finn’s restaurant in Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin—which occurred right across the street from the hotel we stayed in. We’re already plotting to make that dance our first night out when we drive the next stretch of the road. A dance is a terrible thing to waste.
  • A number of small historical sites related to the days when Minnesota had active iron mines, most notably the Croft Mine Historical Park. It’s built on the site of the the Croft Mine, which was an active underground ore mine from 1916 to 1934 and includes a simulated tour of an underground mine. This is the sort of thing my nerdy heart delights in.
  • The Forest History Center near Grand Rapids, run by the Minnesota Historical Society. I must admit, this is the one I most regret because, as I realized over the course of the week, I know next to nothing about logging. Exhibits include a living history replica of a nineteenth century logging camp and a fire tower built by the Civilian Conservation Corps.
  • The Charles Lindbergh House and History Center at Little Falls and the Sinclair Lewis Historic Site in Sauk Center.
  • The Twin Cities: because realistically, we could have spent the entire week in Minneapolis and St. Paul. We’ll be back.

For the most part, the things we failed to see were the result of a fundamental scheduling problem. Many of Minnesota’s historical sites and tourist draws close or reduce their hours to weekends-only immediately after Labor Day. Because of the constraints of our own schedules, we were there a month too late. On the other hand, if you wait for the perfect time to make a trip, you may never go anywhere.

As the week went on, however, we became aware of one thing we weren’t seeing because it didn’t seem to be there: information on the history and culture of the Native American peoples of the region, specifically the Ojibwe and Dakota. At best the various historical sites and museums that we visited gave us hints of events, half-told stories, and broad generalities. I wanted the same level of detail that was devoted to say, the mining industry. If you know of museums or historical sites that would help us fill the gap, let me know.  In the meantime,  I’m making a reading list.

We’re not done with the Great River Road: the stretch from Iowa to Arkansas remains as yet unexplored. Next up, Indian mounds in northern Iowa!

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Travel Tips:

We made several fabulous stops that were not exactly historical, but that I strongly recommend:

  • The National Eagle Center at Wabasha, Minnesota—Excellent exhibits and a close up view of rescued eagles.
  • The Red Wing Shoe Museum—Unexpectedly fascinating. The history of an iconic American company, an introduction to how boots are made, different ways to evaluate a pair of boots, and profiles of Red Wing boot wearers. Be warned: you’re apt to fall in love with an expensive pair of boots in the store downstairs from the museum. I’m saving my pennies.
  • Red Wing Pottery—A tour of a working pottery. (Soup bowls are cheaper than boots.)

 

* If I haven’t said it before, kudos to Minnesota for making it easy to stay on the Great River Road. Great signage, people.  We almost didn’t need a map.

Road Trip Through History: Local History Museums, Logging Trivia, and the Lumberjack Sister

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My Own True Love and I make a point of stopping in local history museums when we’re on the road. On our recent road trip along the northern leg of the Great River Road, we visited three local and/or county historical museums.(1) There were several others that we failed to visit because they were closed for the season,(2) closed on the day we were in their town, or their hours didn’t accommodate our schedule in some way. (Or perhaps our schedule didn’t accommodate their hours.)

The museums that we visited were different in fundamental ways, but they shared one common thread: the changing role of natural resources in the development of their communities. We saw discussions of the interaction between waterways, prairies and wetlands and how the arrival of European-American settlers changed the balance between them. (I, for one, had never heard of the oak savanna, a transition area between prairie and hardwood forest.) We saw exhibits on the fur trade, agriculture, logging, and granite quarries, and the support industries that grew up around them. (Wheat farms, for instance, led to the establishment of flour mills, horse markets and wagon makers in country towns. So obvious once you think about it.) And exhibits that demonstrated the impact of the rise and fall those industries on specific towns.

Several bits of historical detail from the logging industry particularly caught my imagination:

• In the early days of logging in the north woods, the loggers used oxen to pull logs to the rivers and lakes. Once the logs reached the water, they were transported to timber mills in the form of rough rafts by river drivers, known as “river pigs.”(3)

• In the winter, loggers made ices roads to allow them to pull loads of logs on sleighs. They cleared and leveled the road in the fall. Once the weather was cold enough, they used a water tank wagon to flood the road bed with enough water to create about a foot of solid ice. Then a “rut cutter” made ruts for the sleigh runners. Throughout the hauling season, night crews worked to maintain the quality of the ice roads.

• In 1887, the sisters of Saint Benedict built a hospital in Duluth and then created a primitive form of health insurance for loggers. They sold logging companies and individual loggers “hospital tickets”. At an annual cost that ranged from one to nine dollars, a hospital ticket entitled its holder to care at one of the Benedictine hospitals in the region, assuming the lumberjack’s injury was not due to drinking or fighting. One member of the order, Sister Amata Mackett, became known as the Lumberjack Sister. Possibly because she was almost six feet tall and weighed two hundred pounds. For thirty years she went from camp to camp, traveling by train when possible and by foot or snowshoe if necessary. Men eagerly awaited her annual visits. She not only sold lumbermen hospital tickets, she also darned socks, baked pies, listened to lonesome lumberjacks, and provided onsite medical care.

Who knew?

(1) Four if we count the Crow Wing County Museum, which we arrived at fifteen minutes before it closed: just long enough to use the washrooms, whip through a single gallery, have a meaningful conversation with a museum staff member, and curse the fact that we didn’t have more time.
(2) Unlike places further south, where October 12th has become the official end of the tourist season, Minnesota takes a conservative view and begins to shut down tourist draws at the end of September.
(3)This pinged memories for me of a book I read as child in which a young girl escaping from something bad floated down the river on a timber raft (probably disguised as a boy).   She also cut and stacked cords of wood for sale. Anyone?