CHAPTER XI
.
Insanity Follows Frightful Sufferings of the Poor Victims--Five Hundred Demented Ones--Indifferent to the Loss of Relatives.
Hundreds of people became insane during the week succeeding the flood. They had bravely borne the loss of relatives, the hunger and fatigue, had apparently been unmindful of the horrors of the catastrophe, and had, as a rule, given no indications of mental aberration while the disaster was on, but when the danger was passed and relief from the great strain came, the overburdened mind gave way.
J. A. Fernandez, a prominent citizen of Galveston, who was connected with the relief work, told of many cases which came under his observation.
The second Sunday following the storm, September 16, he said, in recounting his experiences:
"There are at least 500 persons there whose minds have become unbalanced, and some have lost every vestige of their mental faculties, there being some raving maniacs among them; one of whom came under my personal observation. His name is Charles Thompson, a gardener. He occupied a room above me at the hotel, and during the night he kept raving and pacing the floor and kept calling on God to witness his action, continually invoking the mercy of the Deity. He has lost his family and home, and by a miracle saved himself.
"As soon as he was out of personal danger on that awful night he commenced rescuing women and children and saved seventy people, according to a gentleman who knew the circumstances. He then lost his mind. He created so much excitement at the hotel that two policemen were detailed to capture him. He heard them approaching and leaped out of a three-story window to an adjoining building. His fall was somewhat broken, but his body struck a bay window in my room. He was badly injured, but continued his mad flight. He baffled his pursuers and escaped. This occurred at 5 o'clock this morning. This is only one illustration of the conditions that prevail there.
"A man whose wife was drowned in the flood had been searching in vain for her remains for several days, and yesterday located the body in the water near Thirty-third street and Avenue G. Soldiers had also seen the body, and they took it in charge. He protested and rushed to take possession of the body. The soldiers were stern and had to discharge their duty, and the husband, practically demented, was bound while the body was thrown in the flames and soon burned to a crisp. The man made frantic efforts to get away from the soldiers, but to no avail.
"In the course of my rounds I saw a family of six half-naked, and they appeared crazy, and would look into the face of every stranger with a vacant stare that was pitiable in the extreme. They were hurrying in the direction of the places where provisions were being distributed. They had lost their homes, and had only the clothing on their backs. There were thousands in a similar condition."
I. Thompson, a young man who was very active in saving life during the night of the storm, became insane because of the awful scenes he witnessed. Thompson's friends first noticed his condition when he told them that one of the persons he rescued had deposited $10,000 in one of the Galveston banks to his credit and that he was going to live in luxury the rest of his life.
Thompson retired to his room on the third floor of the Washington hotel Saturday night seemingly sane. Soon afterward he became violent. The person engaged to watch him was compelled to leave the room for a short time, and when he returned found Thompson had wrenched the shutters off his window and leaped out upon an awning and thence to the street. He was seen running toward the bay, and in all probability threw himself in and was drowned.
Another case was that of a young woman who was caught in the storm, and with two other women and about fifty men and boys found refuge in an office. As the storm gradually subsided the young woman started for her home quite reassured. She found a wild waste of waters sweeping over the site of her home. Among the first victims carried into the temporary morgue were the young woman's mother, brother and two children. These were quickly followed by her brother's wife and her two sisters. The shock overthrew the girl's reason, and she became a nervous wreck, without a relative in the world.
STORM REFUGEES PRECIPITATE A PANIC IN A CONVENT.
The Ursuline convent and academy, in charge of the Sisters of St. Angelo, proved a haven of refuge for nearly 1,000 homeless and storm-driven unfortunates. No one was refused admittance to the sheltering institution. Negroes and whites were taken in without question and the asylum was thrown open to all who sought its protecting wings.
In the midst of the storm the hundreds or more negroes grew wild and shouted and sang in true camp-meeting style until the nerves of the other refugees were shattered and a panic seemed imminent. It was then that Mother Superioress Joseph rang the chancel bell and caused a hush of the pandemonium. When quiet had been restored the mother addressed the negroes and told them that it was no time nor place for such scenes; that if they wanted to pray they should do so from their hearts, and the Creator of all things would hear their offerings above the roar of the hurricane, which raged with increased fury as she spoke to the awe-stricken assemblage.
The negroes listened attentively and when the mother told them that all those who wished to be baptized and resign themselves to God could do so nearly every one asked that the sacrament be administered. The panic had been precipitated by the falling of the north wall of that section of the building in which the negroes had sought refuge. Order and silent prayer were brought about by the nun's determination and presence of mind.
Families that had been separated by the conflict of elements were united by the waters of the gulf tossing them into this haven of refuge. Heart-moving scenes were presented by these unions as the half-dead, mangled and bruised unfortunates were rescued and dragged from the waters by the more fortunate members of their families.
The academy was to have opened for the fall session on Tuesday and forty-two boarding scholars from all parts of the State had arrived at the convent, preparatory to resuming their studies on that date. The community of nuns comprised forty sisters, and they, too, were there administering cheer and mercy to the sufferers, many of whom were more dead than alive when brought into the shelter. Within this religious home and in the cells of the nuns four babies came into this world during that dark night.
Mother Joseph, in speaking of the incidents of the night within the convent walls, said that she believed it was the first time in the history of the world that a baby had been born in the nuns' cell of a convent. They were christened, for no one expected to live to see the light of day, and it was voted that these babes should not leave the world they had just entered without baptism, and, regardless of the religious belief of the parents, the little ones were baptized.
WASHED UP IN A TRUNK.
Mrs. William Henry Haldeman was one of the mothers and whose new-born babe was christened William Henry. The experiences of this mother were horrible. Only a chapter was learned by a reporter, as told by Mother Joseph. Mrs. Haldeman was thrown on the mercies of the storm when her home went down and was swept away. The family had separated when they started to abandon their home to the greed of the storm. When Mrs. Haldeman was carried away on the roof of the wrecked cottage she lost all trace of the other members of the family, but never lost faith and courage. The roof struck some obstruction and the next instant Mrs. Haldeman was hurled from her improvised raft and landed in a trunk which was rocked on the waves.
Cramped up in the trunk, the poor woman, suffering agonies, was protected to a limited extent and was afforded some warmth. On went the trunk, tossed high on the sea, bumping against driftwood until the crude bark was hurled against the Ursuline convent walls and was pulled into the building. The little babe was born a few hours later, and while the good sisters and some of the women in the building were attending to the mother and child another chapter in this family's history was being enacted just without the convent walls. In a tree in the convent yard a young man, a brother of Mrs. Haldeman, battled with the wind and waters while clinging fast to the limb of the tree which swayed and bowed to the wind.
He knew not where he was. He could but merely discern the outlines of the academy building. While not knowing his chance of life or death he heard the plaintive cry of a child near by. Reaching out with one hand he caught the dress of a little tot, who, child-like, cried out, "Me swimming." The child had run the mill race buoyed by the force of the storm and had not had time to realize her peril. The young man in the tree was Mrs. Haldeman's brother, and the child which had come to him on the waves was Mrs. Haldeman's little girl. A few minutes afterward a rescuing party was sent out from the convent in response to cries for help and found the young man and his niece and brought him to the sheltering institution. The reunion of at least a part of the family followed a few minutes later.
Dr. Truhart, chairman of the organization of physicians for the relief of the wounded and sick, states that there is absolutely no further necessity for trained nurses and physicians.
SAVED AS BY A MIRACLE.
Destitute save for a few personal effects carried in a small valise, and with nerves shattered by a week of horror, Mr. and Mrs. C. A. Prutsman, with their two daughters, 12 and 6 years old, reached Chicago Sunday morning, September 16, from the flood-swept district of Texas.
"Yes, we were fortunate," said Mrs. Prutsman, as she leaned wearily back in a rocking chair and tenderly contemplated the two children at her side. "It seems to me just like an awful dream, and when I think of the hundreds and hundreds of children who were killed right before our very eyes, I feel as though I always ought to be satisfied no matter what comes."
Mr. Prutsman said:
"The reports from Galveston are not half as appalling as the situation really is. We left the fated city Wednesday afternoon, going by boat to Texas City, and by rail to Houston. The condition of Galveston at that time, while showing an improvement, was awful, and never shall I forget the terrible scenes that met our eyes as the boat on which we left steamed out of the harbor. There were bodies on all sides of us. In some places they were piled six and seven deep, and the stench was horrible.
"I resided with my family at 718 Nineteenth street. This is fourteen blocks away from the beach, yet my house was swept away at 5 p. m. Saturday, and with it went everything we had in the world. Fifteen minutes before I took my wife and children to the courthouse and we were saved, along with about 1,000 others who sought refuge there. When we went through the streets the water was up to our arms and we carried the children on our heads.
"I assisted for several days in the work of rescue. In one pile of debris we found a woman who seemed to have escaped the flood, but who was injured and pinned down so she could not escape. A guard came along, and, after failing to rescue her, deliberately shot her to end her misery.
"The streets present a grewsome appearance. Every available wagon and vehicle in the city is being used to transport the dead, and it is no uncommon thing to see a load of bodies ten deep. The stench in the city is nauseating. Since the flood the only water that could be used for drinking purposes was in cisterns, and it has become tainted with the slime and filth that covers the city until it is little better than no water at all.
"Since the city was placed under martial law conditions have been much better and there is little lawlessness. The soldiers have shown no quarter and have orders to shoot on sight. This has had a wonderful effect on the disreputable characters who have flocked into the city.
"Everybody who remains in Galveston is made to work, and the punishment for a refusal is about the same as that meted out to ghouls. I saw four colored men shot in one day. There were confined in the hold of a steamer in the harbor six colored men who were found by the soldiers with a flour sack almost filled with fingers and ears on which were jewels. These men probably have been publicly executed before this time.
"In the work of rescue we found whole families tied together with ropes, and in several instances mothers had their babes clasped in their arms.
"Scores of unfortunates straggle into Houston every day and their condition is pitiable. Several have lost their reason. The citizens of Houston are doing all in their power to meet the demands of the sufferers, and every available building in the city has been converted into a hospital. When we arrived in Houston we scarcely had clothes enough to cover us and the citizens fitted us out and started us north. The fear of fever or some awful plague drove us from Galveston.
"Already speculators are flocking into the city, and there is some
## activity among them over tax-title real estate. In several instances whole
families were wiped out of existence, and the opportunities in this line seem to be great."
##