One man, this
morning, while I was taking the name of one who had just died, to write to his
friends, told me that people throughout the whole land, will bless me for what
I am doing. Wonder if I am doing good. I cannot help knowing that some will
hear from their friends who die here, who otherwise would not.
There is a singular
case in Dr. C's. division. Upon entering the tent the first day after my
arrival, with reading matter for distribution, I inquired of a young German if
he could read that language presenting a paper. He said "no," I then
offered one in the English language, asking the same question He said he could
read, but didn't wish the paper. The next day I did not notice him
particularly, as he was sitting up, but the day following found him lying in
bed, and that he would not answer when spoken to. While feeding another man
with canned peaches who lay near, the nurse said :"You cannot make that
man speak to you."
"What is the
trouble," was asked. "Well, it is this," was the reply. He says
that day before yesterday, when you asked him if he could read English, he told
you a falsehood, for he cannot read at all. He has been dreadfully distressed
about it ever since, and says the Lord has appeared to him and told him not to
eat a mouthful, nor speak to any one except once a day, to the surgeon and
myself, until he has forgiven him for the sin. He will speak to no one, not
even the other nurse who has charge a part of the time, and says, he will not,
until he gets religion."
"What is his
name?"
"Oswald."
"Wouldn't you
like some of these nice canned peaches, Oswald?" we ask, dipping up some
of the delicious fruit. He looked at us smiling but with tightly pressed lips.
"These are very
nice—they'll do you good, and we want to make you well as soon as possible.
Won't you have some, Oswald?"
No answer.
"Not going to
speak to me? Why only think—here's a man trying to get religion and be a
Christian and he won't speak to somebody else who is a Christian. I've
professed to be one these many years, and you won't speak to me! Now, if you
could only read the Bible, you'd know that it says "speak often to each
other. You cannot read, can you?" He shakes his head.
"Well, it's a
pity, but don't you see that if the Bible says so, you ought to speak, and
don't you see that Christian ministers have to talk to sinners to teach them to
be good—and if ministers talk to sinners, shouldn't sinners talk to Christians—don't
you see that?"
"Yes, yes, I
do," he ejaculated, seizing my hand—"I will talk to you for you're a
Christian."
We gave him some
peaches and left him. The next morning, however, nothing could induce him to
speak. He has continued thus ever since—five days and has eaten nothing. He
received a forcible cold bath this morning with the promise of its repetition
if he does not speak and eat. [This was continued till he both spoke and ate.
But he was believed to be a hopeless monomaniac, and after some weeks received
his discharge and was sent home.] It is possible that this is mere pretence and
his object the same as that of another soldier of whom we have heard, at
Jefferson Barracks, Mo. This one used to go daily with a bent pin for a
fishhook, and sit for hours upon a stump on the hillside, waiting quietly for
the bite which never came, at least in the estimation of others. He was the
butt of ridicule for the whole camp, who, while they pitied him on account of
his supposed insanity, could but laugh at his perseverance in fishing upon dry ground.
He received his discharge, when flourishing it in their faces, he informed them
that it was "now his turn to laugh, as he had received what he had all
along been fishing for—viz: a discharge!"
SOURCE: Elvira J.
Powers, Hospital Pencillings: Being a Diary While in Jefferson General
Hospital, Jeffersonville, Ind., and Others at Nashville, Tennessee, as Matron
and Visitor, pp. 48-50
