Part 4

I was awakened from a sound sleep by a loud knocking at my door. It was half past twelve at night, when my servant informed me that a person had arrived from Plympton, entreating me to go instantly to Mary Taylor, a parishioner of Plympton St. Mary, who was in the last stage of cholera, and was particularly anxious to see me before she died. I was a little refreshed by sleep; but still so unwell, my servant intimated that it might be in time, if I went in the morning. The morning might be too late! The idea of her having expressed an earnest desire to see me—in her dying moments too—something, perhaps, required or to communicate, which might tend to relieve her mind, and soothe the pillow of death. I could not have rested, if I had delayed to go. Before one o’clock, I was at the house. Mary Taylor had given up her own comfortable room to Susan, from the kindest and most considerate feeling; and, that she might be kept as quiet as possible, had removed to the dwelling of her parents, which was, indeed, a miserable place for a sick person. Below sat her father, by a small remnant of a fire, his face between his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, not caring to speak. He told me Elizabeth Job was with Mary, and that Mr. L. had been there in the evening, but not since—that he was very unwell when he went away. I heard the poor creature moaning—went up to her. The chamber where she lay was on the landing-place, without a door or partition—no ceiling—open to the roof. A common bedstead, without hangings or curtains, an old-fashioned oak chest, and a broken chair, composed the whole of the furniture. In a corner of the same room, covered with various old clothes, lay her husband, who was also ill. A rushlight, flickering in a current of air from the roof, only added to the wretchedness of the scene. The moment I approached the bedside, poor Mary held out her hand to me, and burst into an agony of tears. “I am going, sir,—I know I shall die. I wished so much to see you once more. I feared it would be too much for you to come; but I do not expect to see the morning. I do not wish to live; but my poor dear little helpless infant—what will become of her when she has lost her mother!” After some conversation, she became more tranquil, and appeared greatly comforted by the presence of a Christian minister. Spoke much of the awfulness of being on the brink of eternity—prayed frequently that God would forgive her sins, and receive her to himself, through the merits of a crucified Saviour. “Yes,” she said, “he died for me.” Stayed by this anchor, she became resigned and calm.

Before I went upstairs, I ordered the fire to be made up, and plenty of hot water to be in readiness. The poor old people very slow, and nothing in the house which such a case of emergency required. The cramp was gaining ground, and spasms had returned. Mr. L.’s residence not being far off, I hastened there, thinking it possible that he might be up; but could make no one hear, therefore I went away without disturbing him. I knocked up the people at a shop, and got some mustard and vinegar. When I returned, the medicines which were left, with directions, by Mr. L. were given. I had brought the cholera lotion, or stimulating liniment, with me, which was tried; but the poor sufferer was icy cold. Hot water in a stone bottle was applied to the feet. The pain at the pit of the stomach was very acute. I tried to get hot salt or sand; but nothing of the sort could be obtained, it being past two, a.m. Having noticed that, in the fire-place below, there were some loose bricks, I heated one of them, and wrapped it in a piece of old drugget. This simple remedy afforded her much relief, as soon as it was applied. She had been extremely patient, and said she felt better; but from the cold perspiration, and her discoloured appearance, I feared she would not recover. At three, a.m., I became so unwell, I desired that Mr. L. should be called, at all events. As he had been up the whole of the two preceding nights, and was very unwell, I had hitherto deferred calling him as long as I could; but I was obliged to return home.

_August_ 21. Being anxious to know the fate of Mary Taylor, I went at eight o’clock to enquire for her. I learnt that Mr. L. came to her almost immediately after I left her, and injected saline fluid into a vein. She rallied for a time; but now, at nine, the alarming symptoms had returned. I went to Mr. L. and reported the apparently hopeless state of the patient. He returned to the house with me, and proposed a repetition of the experiment. She said it was all in vain. Her pulse had entirely ceased to beat. She enquired for Susan,—then spoke of her child with the tenderest feeling. She “hoped God would forgive her anxiety about the dear little soul. She would rather it had been taken before her, or with her, that both might be buried together; but God’s will be done. May we meet in a happier world.”

We had all joined with her in prayer, at her own request; she then consented to the operation. After a small quantity of the saline fluid had been injected, her husband’s sister offered to be blooded, as soon as the transfusion of blood was proposed. The transfusion was commenced, but no more than a teacupful could be borne, as a most startling effect was produced; the eyes having in an instant become red and staring to a frightful extent. Mr. L. saw this, and stopped the process instantaneously. Her breathing was quick and laborious. The pulse merely fluttered, and then stopped. It evidently was the will of God that human means should not avail. She was dying! I left the room with a sorrowing heart, sincerely lamenting her death. Before the attack of cholera, she had been in a delicate state of health; therefore Mr. L. feared that her constitution was not sufficiently strong to bear the shock. Every thing tended to depress our spirits. Such touching scenes, in such rapid succession—so great an accumulation of misery, nearly overwhelmed us. The appalling reality is almost incredible! But we have worked together, heart and hand; and we must trust that the same merciful Providence which has hitherto protected us, will, through the aid of the Spirit, grant us renewed strength for the conflict.

I called to see Susan Taylor; she was better, but requiring the greatest care. Attended the funeral of Mrs. Cocker. Richard Hurl, aged one year and half, died at Underwood. Elizabeth Hicks, of Underwood, seriously ill—collapse had rapidly come on,—Mr. Osmond in attendance. Very active treatment had been pursued. Towards the evening, she was much relieved, but extremely weak. Richard Smaldridge taken ill. Mr. Hook attending him.

_August_ 22. {83} A vestry meeting was held, also a meeting of the Board of Health. On this day, the first order was made for assistance from the parish, to be paid to the chairman of the Board of Health. Hurl’s child buried. Elizabeth Hicks recovering.

_August_ 23. George Tarr, aged forty-four, received at the Hospital: a bad case.

_August_ 24. George Tarr died. Ann Higgins, aged one year, died.

_August_ 25. I visited several people who laboured under great debility. Not so many fresh cases during these three days.

_August_ 26. At eight o’clock, a message was brought to me from Mr. Crewes’s family, at Plympton, {85a} requesting me, if I possibly could, to go to them immediately, as their servant was alarmingly ill. Soon after I arrived, Mr. Deeble Boger {85b} and the Messrs. Langworthy came. It was one of those cases which exhibit great severity of character—discolouration of the skin—incessant sickness and restlessness—coldness of the flesh, tongue, and breath. There was very little hope of her recovery. Perhaps this attack had been brought on and aggravated by her own imprudence, in taking with her dinner, yesterday, a quantity of vinegar, which had been left in a plate with some cucumber. Debility and exhaustion rapidly increased. She became calm after awhile, and was perfectly sensible. I left her and went to Church. The Rev. J. Rosdew again kindly assisted me both parts of the day. But one feeling pervaded the whole congregation—the ministers and the people—the deepest solemnity! The plague is abroad. Who is to stand between the living and the dead? The fervent prayer of faith availeth much. “Lord, hear our prayer, and let our cry come unto thee!” How many appeared to pray in earnest on this day! doubtless not here only, but through the nation. May the supplication of a suffering people be received at the Throne of Grace.

Mr. Crewes’s servant died in the afternoon, and Maria E. Taylor, aged six months, of Underwood, died on this day.

_August_ 27. Whilst at breakfast, I was entreated to go as soon as possible to Wm. Arthurs, at Underwood, as he was extremely ill, and he was thought to be dying. After attending to a number of applications for medicine, I went immediately to the sick man. His wife, in tears, was standing at the door, watching my arrival. Her mother, Mary Martin, and another woman, with dismay in their countenances, were near her. One of the children ill with cholera, in a cradle, two other little creatures, unconscious of what was passing, were playing about the room. I first endeavoured to quiet the minds of the women, impressing upon them, that there was not so much danger to be apprehended from the disease itself, as from giving way to such excessive alarm. That all excitement and agitation of the mind, tended to increase, if not to cause, an attack of the malady. I found the poor man very ill. Upon enquiry, it appeared that he had been “very bad all the night, and they thought he could not have held out till the morning.” But, “why did you neglect to send for medical advice at first?” “O, sir, we hoped it would pass.” I told them they must send immediately for Mr. L. or for some other medical gentleman; but they said it would be of no use, as Arthurs refused to take any medicines; indeed, he had said the same to me: but, after much persuasion, he consented to take what I gave him. At this time, he was in a state of partial collapse—writhing with pain—large drops standing on his icy cold forehead—his tongue cold—harassed with incessant and violent sickness. The wife standing by, concealing her face with her apron, not being able to look at him when the paroxysms came on. At a glance, the appearance of every thing indicated the cleanliness of the family. A white cloth was on a little table near the window—a second bed in the room—a little store of potatoes in a basket, in a corner near the stairs. The women were prompt and ready in preparing the stimulants—mustard and hot vinegar, and hot water, in stone bottles, for the feet. All linen was removed from the bed. The child below was, at this time, screaming so violently, that we were obliged to use for her similar remedies. Rhubarb and ginger had been given to the child. I gave a saline draught, which appeared to check the sickness. The poor man required constant attendance, sickness and cramp being most distressing. I had sent for medical assistance, but at that moment it could not be obtained. What was to be done? The poor man was in agony, and the sickness violent, without an intermission of ten minutes. In this extremity, I gave him the same medicine which I had taken myself. In half-an-hour, the man was again extremely harassed, and the sickness was not abated. He complained of insatiable thirst. I then prepared a saline mixture, composed of the same ingredients which had in some instances been adopted by Mr. L.; viz., carbonate of soda, one drachm, common salt, one drachm, oxymuriate (chlorate) of potash, six grains, and a teaspoonful of salvolatile, to a quart of cold water, of which he drank freely. After this, the vomiting subsided for a time, but pain and nausea remained; friction with stimulants were continued, and hot salt applied to the stomach. Being somewhat relieved, he was desirous that I would pray with him. The poor women knelt round the bed,—tears streaming down, though they held their hands before their faces, to conceal their grief and apprehension. At this time, the appearance of the man’s eyes began more decidedly to assume the character which we had remarked in the worst cases of cholera. Our prayer was shortened: but a sigh only, in faith, fails not to reach the Throne of Grace. I sent again, with the hope of obtaining medical aid, but without success. I began to tremble at the responsibility I had taken upon myself; but I could not leave the patient at such a crisis, and to have remained inactive might have been fatal. His pulse, when I first saw him, was scarcely perceptible, it now began to improve; sickness again came on, but not so violent as before. He drank freely of the saline mixture. At two o’clock, I left him for half-an-hour, to attend the funeral of Maria Taylor’s infant. Soon after my return (about three o’clock), Arthurs became easier and more tranquil; the pulse had improved, general warmth succeeded, and at four o’clock, profuse perspiration: more clothing was put on the bed, to keep that up. He wished for some tea and biscuit, and took a small quantity. In half-an-hour afterwards, the pulse became extremely full and quick. At five, p.m., I went to Mr. Langworthy’s, and found him just returned. I informed him of Arthurs’s case, and we went there together; but before we arrived, a medical gentleman had called, bled him sparingly, and had gone away. Mr. L. ordered him medicine, and gave directions how to proceed. The poor man then expressed himself as being weary, and soon sunk into a calm sleep. The child was much better towards the evening.

I went across the way to John Andrews’s; their daughter, Mary Ann, aged six, who was taken ill in the morning, having died at four p.m. The other child who was ill on the 6th, recovered. Peggy Andrews, the mother, though deeply afflicted, shewed much Christian resignation. At her urgent request, I went upstairs to see the child as she lay a corpse. She had been carried off so rapidly, they could scarcely believe she was dead. Chloride of lime was used abundantly, and the poor people promised that the rooms should be whitewashed on the following day. Their cottage is kept particularly neat. Having remained some time in conversation with them, I went to Richard Dunn’s. Their little girl, aged two years, sinking from exhaustion in a low fever, like typhus, which immediately followed an attack of cholera. Every possible attention was paid her, but nothing would make her rally. She lay perfectly quiet, her clear blue eye fixed on me, being a stranger; and just at that moment a parting ray of the evening sun beamed through the casement upon her face, her light silken locks shone upon her spotless brow, giving to her appearance an unearthly effect, which I shall never forget. Very soon she was cold and lifeless; but a smile rested on her countenance, so serene and lovely, that the transition from life to death was not perceptible. I could not be surprised at the distress of the parents. Difficult it was at such a moment to acknowledge the reality, that their loss was the child’s gain. Under what a variety of circumstances does this fatal malady strike its victims! Equally varying, therefore, the occasions for Christian consolation. May this be profitable to minister and people. Wrote to the Central Board of Health. Two new cases.

_August_ 28. Mary Ann Andrews, buried. No death on this day: one new case only reported—Betty Wills, of Underwood. The patients generally extremely weak. Seven cases remaining.

_August_ 29. Attended Board of Health. Received a letter from the Central Board, requesting a daily report to be transmitted as long as the disease exists at Plympton St. Mary, as well as a return of all cases and deaths from the commencement of the disease.

Upon referring to the several medical practitioners, it was found to be impossible to obtain any thing like a regular return; because our Board of Health had not been legally constituted until the 22nd instant; and no authority for such a requirement having previously existed, no regular notes of cases and deaths had been kept. Besides this, in consequence of the scarcity of medical practitioners, those who were employed in cholera cases, were engaged with their patients from morning till night, and had little or no time for making regular memoranda.

Visited Arthurs;—better as to the original disease, but very severely salivated. Elizabeth Hicks and Mary Martin, recovering. Buried Dunn’s child. Visited Susan Taylor;—gradually recovering, but labouring under great weakness. We had some serious conversation upon the afflicting circumstances which had occurred, and the mercy of God in her own particular case;—her preservation up to the present time, after all she had gone through herself, and after what she had witnessed in others, having herself, not only passed much time as a nurse in the midst of the worst cases of the disease, but having also assisted in the last fearful office for three of its victims. She entered fully into all this in a right frame of mind. Whilst alluding to the state in which she lay under the influence of the collapsed stage, she said she knew what was passing, though she appeared unconscious of every thing; that the sensation produced by injecting the saline fluid into the vein, was that of having taken an unusual quantity of liquid or broth, the stomach seemed to be very full; and when the blood was transfused, she felt it in the jugular vein, on both sides, causing an oppressive fulness, as if it would burst; but it subsided as soon as the process was stopped. As an instance of consciousness being retained in the last stage of cholera,—while the blood was being transfused, though she could neither move nor speak, she heard me suggest that a handkerchief might be lightly thrown across her eyes, lest she should be shocked if she revived and saw what was being done; and Mr. L.’s reply, that it was of no consequence, as she was too far gone.

_August_ 30. One new case, Mary Martin, Underwood. Five cases remaining. Several people suffering from weakness and debility; all who required it, had nourishing things sent to them. By Mr. L.’s advice, I returned home sooner than usual, as I had been very unwell during the last few days.

_August_ 31. Susan Taylor {96} was sufficiently recovered to return to Underwood. No new cases reported to-day. What a mercy! The fearful disease has nearly subsided in this parish, though as yet prevalent in the adjoining parish of Plympton Maurice.

From this time, no death by cholera occurred in the parish; but through the month of September, those who had been attacked by the disease, laboured under great debility. Some new cases were reported; but of a milder character, with the exception of two, which were taken to the Hospital. One was that of an aged woman, who, on the 10th of September, was discovered lying on the floor, at her house at Colebrook, in a state of collapse. A medical gentleman had seen her as he passed by, and called to inform me of the circumstance, at the same time recommending what medicine should be given to her. I found her, as described, lying on the stone floor, with all the symptoms of confirmed cholera, and in great agony. After much persuasion, she took the medicine, and consented to be removed to the Hospital, only upon the condition that I would take charge of her goods, and keep the key of her room. Unhappily, she was one of those whose thoughts are entirely engrossed by the objects of time; therefore her mental agitation and alarm were proportionately increased: and at such a moment, when life was ebbing on the brink of eternity, there was no desire for religious exercise, although at the eleventh hour; and all before her was worse than blank—not a shadow of comfort!

After she arrived at the Hospital, her suffering was very considerable. Mr. L. pursued the same treatment which had been previously adopted, with the addition of active friction, and hot salt in bags applied to the stomach. Warmth was restored in about four hours, and she became gradually better. In three days afterwards, she walked home, recovered.

About this time, a man was found, in a wretched state, cold and collapsed, in an open shed near Ridgeway. He was conveyed to the Hospital immediately. Drinking and dissipation had most probably tended to increase his sufferings, for they were excessive. His habits were well known, and there was every reason to suppose he was in a state of intoxication when seized with the disease. A strong emetic of mustard and salt was first given to him, and active remedies were afterwards resorted to. Some hours elapsed before warmth could be restored, and it was thought the attack would terminate fatally; but God was merciful to him, and he so far recovered as to be able to leave the Hospital in two days. How far he was impressed with the awfulness of his situation, or of thankfulness for his escape from impending danger, rested with his own conscience. He gave no satisfactory proof of any salutary impression having been made upon his mind. He was enveloped in utter darkness, and religious duties were evidently irksome to him.

With the exception of these two cases, nothing occurred beyond the usual routine of visiting convalescent patients, or those taken with slight attacks, from the end of August to the 3rd of October. During that period, the attendance at meetings of the Board of Health, and constant communication with the Central Board, as well as ordinary parish duties, were attended to. On the 3rd of October, it was reported, and with devout thankfulness acknowledged, that the disease was mercifully withdrawn from the parish—the plague was stayed—and the Board of Health was adjourned. Thus terminated the progress of the fearful visitation in this parish. Thirty deaths, chiefly from the village of Underwood, had occurred between the 13th of July and the 27th of August. In the adjacent town of Plympton, where the population by the census of 1831 was 804, there were twenty-two deaths between the 12th of August and the 21st of September.

CONCLUSION.

HERE it may be useful to make a brief allusion to some of the circumstances connected with the progress of the disease in this rural district. The first patient who died of the cholera at Underwood, arrived there two days before she was taken ill, from Plymouth, where the disease was making fearful havoc. After her death, nearly a fortnight elapsed, when two other deaths occurred, of persons who were dwelling near the centre of the village. Then the disease visited the extreme western end, taking its course eastward, and at that end finished its career. The time of its duration was between two and three months: its fatal effects were limited to about five weeks.

Nearly a month after the disease had visited Plympton St. Mary, it proceeded to Plympton St. Maurice, commencing on the 12th of August, in the middle of the town; then, as it had done at Underwood, it went to the western extremity, afterwards taking its course eastward, and, on the 20th of September, ceased at one of the last houses in that direction. Although in both parishes its fatal effects were limited to five weeks, it lingered in the neighbourhood some weeks afterwards.

It may be supposed that, because the malady, during the later period of its existence at Underwood, did not prove fatal, it was understood better than at first, and that the medical treatment was on that account more successful. But if so, it would not have been so fatal afterwards at Plympton; as it was in the hands of the same medical practitioner.