THE story of Charlie Coulson’s last days, as told by Dr Rossvally, the surgeon who attended him in his last hours, is full of interest and deeply pathetic. Charlie, a young lad of 17 years, had joined the Northern Army during the American Civil War as a drummer boy. He was severely wounded at the Battle of Gettysburg and was among those who required the army surgeon’s attention at once. On the assistant surgeon and steward approaching him to get him in readiness for the surgeon, he refused the chloroform that was about to be administered and the brandy that afterwards was offered as a stimulant. He told the surgeon that he had put his trust in Jesus, and added: “I know I can trust Him now. He is my strength; He will support me while you amputate my arm and leg.” The surgeon, who was a Jew, tells that at this time he hated Jesus, but that he could not help respecting the boy’s loyalty to his Saviour, and he says: “When I saw how he loved and trusted Him to the last, there was something that touched my heart, and I did for that boy what I had never done for any other soldier—I asked him if he wished to see his chaplain.” The chaplain was sent for at Charlie’s request, and the wounded youth indicated that he was not to be long in this world. “Chaplain,” he then said, “Please put your hand under my pillow and take my little Bible; in it you will find my mother’s address. Please send it to her, and write a letter and tell her that since the day I left home I have never let a day pass without reading a portion of God’s Word, and daily praying that God would bless my dear mother—no matter whether on the march, on the battlefield, or in the hospital.” After giving some other instructions he then turned to the surgeon and said: “Now, doctor, I am ready, and I promise you that I will not even groan while you take off my arm and leg, if you will
not offer me chloroform.” The ordeal was telling more on the surgeon than on the patient, for he writes: “I had not the courage to take the knife in my hand to perform the operation without first going into the next room and taking a little stimulant to nerve myself to perform the duty.” When the surgeon was cutting through the flesh no groan escaped Charlie’s lips, but when he saw the surgeon taking the saw to sever the bone the young lad took the corner of the pillow in his mouth, and the surgeon heard him utter the words: “O Jesus, blessed Jesus, stand by me now!”
That night no sleep came to the surgeon’s eyes, wherever his eyes turned they seemed to be met by Charlie’s soft blue eyes, while the words of his prayer kept ringing in his ears—”O Jesus, blessed Jesus, stand by me now!” Between twelve and one o’clock in the early morning the surgeon rose and was informed that twenty-six of the hopeless cases had died. “How is Charlie Coulson?” he asked. “He is sleeping as sweetly as a lamb, sir,” was the answer. Five days after the amputation Charlie sent for the surgeon. “Doctor,” he said, “my time has come; I do not expect to see another sun rise, but, thank God, I am ready to go, and before I die, I desire to thank you with all my heart for your kindness to me. Doctor, you are a Jew; you do not believe in Jesus; will you please stand here and see me die, trusting my Saviour to the last moment of my life?” “I tried to stay,” says the surgeon, “but I could not, for I had not the courage to stand by and see a Christian boy die rejoicing in the love of that Jesus whom I had been taught to hate, so I hurriedly left the room.” About twenty minutes after this one of the stewards came with the message: “Doctor, Charlie Coulson wishes to see you.” “I have just seen him,” said the surgeon, “and I cannot see him again.” “But, doctor, he says he must see you once before he dies.” The surgeon, in obedience to the urgent request, hastened to his bedside, but determined to steel himself against anything that would change his mind towards the Redeemer. He purposed to say an endearing word to the dying boy and then leave him. When he entered the room he saw that Charlie was sinking fast. He sat down by his bedside, and the dying boy asked him to take hold of his hand, and then addressed him thus:—”Doctor, I love you because you are a Jew; the best Friend I have found in this world was a Jew.” “Who was that?” asked the surgeon. “Jesus Christ, to
whom I want to introduce you before I die; and will you promise me, doctor, that what I am about to say to you, you will never forget?” On the doctor promising, Charlie said—”Five days ago, while you amputated my arm and my leg, I prayed to the Lord Jesus Christ to convert your soul.” “These words,” says the doctor, “went deep into my heart. I could not understand how, when I was causing him the most intense pain, he could forget all about himself, and think of nothing but his Saviour and my unconverted soul. All I could say to him was—”Well, my dear boy, you will soon be all right.” With these words I left him, and twelve minutes later he fell asleep, safe in the arms of Jesus.” “Hundreds of soldiers,” he further adds, “died in my hospital during the war, but I only followed one to the grave, and that one was Charlie Coulson, the drummer boy, and I rode three miles to see him buried. I had him dressed in a new uniform and placed in an officer’s coffin, with a United States flag over it. That dear boy’s dying words made a deep impression on me. I was rich at that time, so far as money is concerned, but I would have given every penny I possessed if I could have felt towards Christ as Charlie did; but that feeling cannot be bought with money. Alas! I soon forgot all about my Christian soldier’s little sermon, but I could not forget the boy himself. I now know that at that time I was under deep conviction of sin, but I fought against Christ with all the hatred of an orthodox Jew for nearly ten years until, finally, the boy’s prayer was answered and God converted my soul.”
Eighteen months after the surgeon’s conversion he was quite unexpectedly brought into touch with Charlie’s mother. It was a happy meeting, and the converted man joyfully announced to the dead lad’s mother, “Your boy’s prayer has been heard and answered. I am the Jewish doctor for whom your Charlie prayed, and his Saviour is now my Saviour.”
Hath not thy heart said, “I will go and hear such a man, and get comfort?” And dost thou wonder that thou art weak and barren? Are ordinances God, that they should make you comfortable? They are but Christ’s servants; therefore, pass through all the crowd of ordinances, and ask to speak with Jesus, and virtue will come forth.—Sibbes.