Part 3

July 30. Edward, the father of Ann Tretheway, taken ill. Mr. Langworthy having been sent for to attend another patient, in compliance with his wish, and under his directions, I watched the case, as it was of a serious nature, attended with incessant sickness, diarrhea, considerable cramp, weakness, and slight discoloration of the fingers and nails.

Five fresh cases reported.

July 31. All the patients going on favourably.

August 1. Edward Tretheway slightly salivated, but much better. Very sensible of the mercy he has experienced, and devoutly thankful. May the impression, arising from the death of their child, and the man’s own recovery from the threatened danger, never be obliterated from the minds of this family.

August 2. No new cases.

August 3. Several people came in the morning for castor oil, rhubarb, &c. Went to Venton and Lee-Mill-Bridge, to see some people who were ill.

August 4. At ten, a.m., sent for to William Williams, aged thirty-nine, at Underwood. His wife, in great distress, said he had been very ill on the preceding day, and all the night. He had tried to stop the pain in his bowels with hot brandy and water, and peppermint; but he had derived no relief. After eighteen hours’ sickness, the medical gentleman who always attended the family had been sent for. When he arrived, he did not consider the symptoms serious; but, being summoned to a very bad case, he went away, merely ordering the patient to be kept warm until his return. He had been gone two hours; and during that interval the poor man had fallen into the second stage of cholera.

Much valuable time having already elapsed, it was suggested that active measures should be immediately commenced, to restore warmth, if possible. Mustard poultices and friction, as in other cases, were then adopted. He was quite sensible; and, appearing somewhat easier, on being asked how he felt, he shook his head, saying, “It is a bad business: I shall never get over it.” He had become much weaker, and was perfectly aware of his danger. It was proposed that we should again address ourselves, in prayer, to the Throne of Grace. This, he most earnestly desired; his wife and aged mother, at the same time, kneeling by the bed, seeking refuge where alone it could be found. It was a sad and solemn scene,—no ray of hope that he would recover. These poor afflicted people, however, derived much comfort from having thus lifted up their sorrowing hearts in prayer to their God and Saviour; and they became more composed and resigned.

As medical advice had been procured, we did not feel justified in having recourse to other remedies than those of the simplest kind, our object being merely to allay, or prevent, suffering. When the medical attendant returned, he was much surprised to find the disease had made such a rapid and fatal progress. He ordered the patient to be immersed in cold water. This could be borne only one minute. The poor creature was sinking; and shortly afterwards he died.

The death of this man created great sympathy among the people of the village; many with tears lamenting the sudden loss of a quiet and respected neighbour. At the same time, increased alarm became very apparent throughout the little community around.

The neighbourhood was now considered to be infected with the awful disease. After the sad scene at this house, every precaution, to prevent it from spreading, was promptly attended to. Chloride of lime was abundantly used, and the rooms were whitewashed.

On the opposite side of the road, a woman, named Honey, was labouring under a serious attack of the disease. Several persons, from different houses, came to me and entreated me to step in, if only for one minute, to see a husband, a wife, or a child, who were unwell. This arose, not only from an anxiety for spiritual comfort; but, in many instances, from an apprehension of danger, on the least indication of indisposition, and a wish to know how to proceed, if medical advice could not be immediately obtained.

Sunday, August 5. As I passed through Underwood before the morning service, I visited Michael Mc. Kenny, who had been taken suddenly ill yesterday, whilst at work. The disease was gaining ground—Mr. Langworthy away from home, and his return uncertain; therefore, I adopted the same course which he had previously recommended me to pursue under similar circumstances.

A larger congregation than usual assembled at the Church, both parts of the day; and, although our services are generally observed with strict propriety, upon this occasion, a death-like stillness, and a marked solemnity of deportment prevailed. About double the usual number also availed themselves of the opportunity of receiving the Holy Communion. If the serious contemplation, that the fearful visitation, with which it has pleased God in his infinite wisdom to afflict our land, has now entered within the borders of our parish, and approached the threshold of our own homes—if the awful and sudden death of our near neighbours has awakened us to a sense of our mortality, and the uncertainty of our own lives—if this has added to the number of sincere worshippers in the sanctuary, and touched the hearts of the careless with a sense, not only of the danger of the perishable body, but especially of their immortal souls, thereby leading them to sincere repentance,—then this very dispensation at the hand of God, though an affliction heavy to be borne by poor, weak, sinful mortals, will be acknowledged to have been a blessing in disguise; and, although a severe chastisement to hundreds, a dispensation of mercy to tens of thousands.

May God, in mercy, hear the devout prayers of his people, which have been offered up this day.

After the services were ended, two fresh cases were reported, at Underwood. At Hurrell’s cottage, which joins that where Williams died, John Hurrell and his wife Jane, both aged twenty-seven, were in bed, very ill, with undoubted symptoms of cholera. At first, they expressed the greatest terror; but, having raised their thoughts to Him who is “mighty to save,” and being no strangers to religious habits, or the happiness which ever accompanies the true Christian in the exercise of religious duties, they soon became more tranquil, and could feel the truth of the words, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusted in thee.”

Medical assistance had been obtained. I was obliged to leave them for a time to attend the funeral of Wm. Williams.

August 6. Called between five and six in the morning, to go to Hurl’s, at Underwood. The man and his wife were in great distress; their eldest child, a fine boy, six years of age, being in a decided state of collapse. Before Mr. L.’s arrival, every thing requisite for such a case of emergency was prepared; but the sickness, &c., was so incessant, and the prostration of strength increased so rapidly, little hope could be entertained of his recovery. I endeavoured, as far as I could, to comfort the afflicted parents.

At ten o’clock, went to John Andrews’s to see his daughter, whose symptoms could not be mistaken. As she had medical aid, I returned to Hurl’s. Mr. L. was there, and we both went to see West, who had been unwell a few hours, but was becoming seriously ill. Mr. L. took a very small quantity of blood from him. West then expressed a desire to avail himself of the present opportunity to offer up a prayer to God.

We returned to Hurl’s. The little boy was much worse; but quite sensible, and very patient, though suffering much from cramp. At twelve o’clock, I went again to Andrews’s. The little girl relieved as to sickness, and other symptoms much mitigated. Went home for medicines, and was afterwards occupied at the houses of Hurl, Andrews, and West, all near neighbours, until late in the afternoon. At five o’clock, Hurl’s child died.

A messenger came in haste, begging me instantly to go to the western end of the village to see William Parsons, as he was in a fearful state of suffering, and no one could be induced to go near the house to help the family. On entering this cottage, the scene was truly appalling. The room inhabited by the family, consisting of the man, his wife, and five children, is sixteen feet by fourteen—two beds in it, and on the ground floor—every thing indicating poverty and confusion. The man, aged thirty-nine, lay on his bed, an object horrifying to the beholder,—writhing in torture from the cramp, and groaning dreadfully—his countenance much distorted—his flesh ashy blue—his fingers puckered and twisted, and his nails purple—his knees drawn up to his chin!

Medicine had been left, with directions, by Mr. L., who had been called away to other patients. Only one nurse could be found. A child, three years old, in a cradle in a corner of the room, discoloured and cold, put aside, by the mother and nurse as in a hopeless state, as “just dead.” I applied a mustard poultice to the pit of the stomach of the poor man, who was shrieking in agony; but he would not permit it to remain on five minutes. We rubbed his arms with a stimulating liniment. I gave him the medicine which was ordered. This frightful scene before me, and the offensive effluvia in this wretched place, overcame me. I thought I must have retreated from it; but if I had done so, the whole family must have perished, the case having been reported so malignant, that no one, excepting the two medical attendants, together with Susan Taylor, and one neighbour, who called occasionally, would venture near them.

An effort was made to revive the child, as by holding a piece of a broken looking glass to its mouth, it appeared that she still breathed.

A faggot having been obtained from a neighbour, a large fire was made up. The child was put between hot blankets, and brought near to the fire, and well rubbed. After a short time, some saline mixture trickled down her throat. In the course of three hours, she turned in her cradle, and the discoloured appearance of her body began to wear away. At intervals I attended to the father, and whenever he became tranquil, we had resource to prayer. He gave himself up; and it was extremely difficult to persuade him to take any medicine.

I went away to see the Hurrells,—both better,—then returned to Parsons. Susan Taylor remained, by my request, to assist as a nurse. The house was in a state of utter destitution. Not a morsel of food,—no fire, before the faggot was procured. Those necessaries which were immediately required, were provided from a neighbouring shop. The poor man was evidently sinking, and his end fast approaching; but his sufferings had been considerably diminished during the last three or four hours. The child was better. Upon observing a sudden change for the worse in her husband, his wife fainted; and the scene altogether of distress and terror was appalling. After awhile, the poor woman revived.

At twelve o’clock, I went to a neighbouring cottage, wrote a letter to the overseers, and sent it off. I entreated them to do something to save the lives of others, by adopting requisite measures for the speedy removal of the dead, as well as of every other cause which might increase the violence of the disease. I stated the circumstances at Parsons’s house, and that the man would most probably be a corpse before my letter was concluded. I returned home at one, a.m., very unwell, and so fatigued and excited, I could not sleep.

August 7. At six o’clock in the morning a messenger requested me to go to Underwood, several new cases having occurred. I was informed, that as soon as I left Parsons’s, the two Messrs. Langworthy arrived, and that the poor man lived about half-an-hour afterwards. Mary Pepperall (the daughter of M. Thorn, deceased) sent for me; she was in a state of extreme agitation, and was labouring under severe symptoms of cholera. She had taken calomel and ginger, in small doses. In accordance with the suggestions of Mr. L., I gave her powdered rhubarb and ginger, and at intervals, to allay sickness, carbonate of soda, salvolatile, &c. She appeared to be much relieved from pain, and expressed herself grateful in the highest degree.

Saw Richard Gullett, aged seventy-two. This was an aggravated case: he was much distressed with cramp, and had no interval of rest. I merely assisted the medical attendant, Mr. Osmond, in administering such things as he ordered. From thence I went to Hurrell’s: his wife was worse, suffering much from continual sickness and the cramp, and in a profuse perspiration, approaching to the cold damp of the second stage of cholera,—the husband, also, harassed by sickness, &c. complained of violent pain at the pit of the stomach, and was becoming very restless.