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AN ACCOUNT OF THE Terrible EFFECTS of the Pestilential INFECTION IN THE City of PHILADELPHIA. WITH AN ELEGY on the Deaths of the People. ALSO A SONG of PRAISE and THANKSGIVING, Composed for those who have recovered, after having been smitten with that dreadful Contagion.
By the Honourable SAMUEL STEARNS, J. U. [...].
Righteous art thou, O LORD,
and upright are thy Judgments.
Psal. cxix. 137.
But when GOD'
s Judgments are abroad in the Earth, let the Inhabitants thereof learn Righteousness.
PROVIDENCE: Printed for WILLIAM CHILD, in Johnston.
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PREFACE.
Kind Reader,
HOW many people have fallen in the city of Philadelphia, by the pestilential Infection, is unknown to the Author—and he believes to the inhabitants of the same place; for the accounts are very different, as some mention four, others five, six, and even more than seven thousand: and the latter has been supposed to be not too large.—Some have given the disorder one name, and others another, &c. It has been called a genuine Plague;—a putrid malignant Fever;—a yellow Fever, and a pestilential Infection. It seems that the mortality began about the beginning of August, and raged with great violence till the weather grew colder.
THE Author has composed the following lines at his leisure hours, in which he has given a true description of the terrible effects of this contagion, according to the best information he has been able to obtain from recent publications; and as many people have called it a Plague, and as he knows not its proper name, he hopes he shall be excused for calling it so in the subsequent pages.—From, kind Reader, your's and the public's most obedient humble servant,
THE AUTHOR.
November 13, 1793.
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POETICAL LINES, On the DESTRUCTION of the Citizens of Philadelphia, by a pestilential Infection, A. D. 1793.
FROM Philadelphia comes a doleful sound,
Of thousands slain, and buried in the ground!
Who were alive and well three months ago;
But of their fate at that time did not know.
The young, the old, those of a middle age,
With rapid force, have been swept from the stage!
By an infection, which some people say
From distant lands, somehow, has found the way:
But some with boldness do this thing deny,
And say the
venom from the earth did fly;
From
filth expanded by
Sol's burning heat,
Or
fumes proceeding from a dirty street;
Thus generated, did infect the air
With putrid exhalations ev'ry where,
Within the limits of the city's bound;
But not in places which the same surround.
In Water-street this
mortal Plague began,
And with great slaughter through the city ran;
From house to house the dread contagion flew,
And on its way a num'rous train hath slew!
In diff'rent ways the exhalations strike,
And all the patients are not seiz'd alike;
Their constitutions diff'ring much likewise,
Make symptoms too of diff'rent kinds arise.
Some who were seiz'd, had on the first attack
Cold chills, and pains, both in the head and back,
And in their limbs, and also in their bones,
Exciting horror, gloom, and dismal groans!
Within the stomach humours did convene,
And vomiting did often supervene;
The bile was black, and putrid too indeed,
And haemorrhages sometimes did succeed;
[Page 2] The pulse run high, but often very low.
Sometimes too quick, and then as much too slow;
The eyes grew red, their pupils did dilate;
The fluids rush'd into a putrid state;
The thirst was great, the urine colour'd high;
The tongue turn'd white, the skin was hot and dry.
The dang'rous fever often did remit;
And was succeeded by an ague fit.
Sometimes eruptions rose upon the skin,
Exceeding thick on some, on others thin.
Amongst great numbers of the human race,
The putrefaction did gain ground apace:
Its raging force at last became so keen,
That
death stept in, and clos'd the awful
scene!
About this
Plague physicians disagree,
And other men, who from its
virus flee:
Great numbers who have seen its raging flames,
By promulgation gave it diff'rent names,
Some say it is the
pestilence, indeed,
Which from a foreign country did proceed.
Another name few men of skill do find,
Call it a fever of some
yellow kind;
Think it arose, as we do understand,
By
exhalations from the filthy land.
We are inform'd, that no man can deny,
That some knew not what med'cines to apply
For this
disease, which ne'er was
known before
To make an entrance on our solid shore!
The celebrated Doctor
Rush did find,
That
calomel, with
jalap well combin'd,
Was the best
purge, by far, that could be giv'n
By any
medicaster under heav'n,
Phlebotomy he highly recommends
To all
physicians, and to other
friends.
Evacuations of these kinds repress'd
The raging
Plague, and thus sav'd the distress'd:
But
antiseptics often were employ'd;
Till putrefaction was thereby destroy'd.
For my own part, I do applaud his
plan,
And, with esteem, call him a
skilful man.
From his
infection but few have been free,
But few exempt, of high or low degree,
[Page 3] Unless they have from the great city fled,
Before the
virus o'er the same was spread;
Or have not been in that large place at all,
In August last, or any time this fall.
Some people
fell, 'tis said, on the first day!
Though some liv'd longer, yet were swept away!
Sometimes an hundred in one day, 'tis said,
And often more, have in their graves been laid!
Some thousands by the putrefaction fell!
But some by chance have of the
Plague got well.
The air
corrupt, made people then believe
'Twas dang'rous for them in the same to breathe!
Hence many
fled to keep off from its force,
And settled in the country towns of course;
The shops were shut, and business at a stand;
The Plague, 'twas thought, would desolate the land!
The people, pent as in a lonesome den,
Sell not their goods unto their countrymen;
The vessels too lay loaded by the shore,
For want of hands the num'rous goods to store;
The sweeping
illness, by its rapid sail,
Did cause the markets in the town to fail!
For in the city ev'ry one did know,
The country people were afraid to go,
Lest the
contagion they might thus convey,
Lose their own
lives, and fill men with
dismay!
Perhaps, by writing, no man can express
What people suffer'd in this great distress!
For want of
food, some very hand did fare,
Some dy'd, no doubt, for want of
proper care!
Distressed objects on their beds did lie;
The want of help produc'd a dismal cry!
Their friends gone off, and their kind neighbours fled,
That they might not be number'd with the dead!
Whilst
death and
horror spread themselves around,
Young
children were by their
dead mothers found!
A shocking sight, indeed, for to behold!
Made the
spectator's very
blood run cold!
Thus parents slain! their infants left so small,
Can't tell their names—some are not known at all!
The sad
destruction made the people groan!
Bereav'd of wives, some Husbands live alone!
[Page 4] The widows too (it cannot be deny'd)
By this
infection have been multiply'd.
The fatherless and orphans did increase,
Until the time the dreadful Plague did cease,
Which did commence, as we've been often told,
Upon the revolution of the cold;
Which soon
condens'd the stagnant atmosphere,
And made the
noxious vapours disappear;
Fall to the ground, where they in
ambush stay,
Till
Sol once more rolls on the northern way;
His
heat may then the poison
filth expand,
And
desolate, for aught we know, the land!
A FORM OF PRAYER.
ALMIGHTY GOD, wilt thou thy people
spare?
Deliver them from this
contagious snare!
This
mortal Plague at thy command began,
And thou thereby hast
humbled sinful man!
Thou art the fountain of all good and love,
And dost thy will on earth—in heav'n above!
Thou givest life, thou givest health and ease,
To all thy creatures, just as thou dost please!
In thine own time thou smitest them with death,
Their bodies fall when thou dost take their breath!
Thou hast ordain'd that this shall be the fate
Of
ev'ry creature in this mortal state!
These works of thine, if rightly understood,
Promote, we find, the universal good;
Remove thy
children to a better
shore,
To realms of
joy, to live for evermore!
A FORM OF THANKSGIVING.
WE give thee
thanks, most good and gracious Lord,
That this
infection was not spread abroad;
That to thy people thou hast been so kind,
That this contagion has been much confin'd:
[Page 5] Confin'd, indeed, unto a narrow space,
Preventing death amongst the human race!
May all thus favour'd their glad voices raise,
In celebrating the
Creator's praise,
That he's been pleas'd in dang'rous times to save
Them from
destruction and the
silent grave!
That on thy earth they're yet allow'd to dwell,
Whilst thousands by the pestilence have fell!
May all who from the raging Plague recover,
Their thankfulness unto the world discover,
By rend'ring praise to thee, the GOD above,
For preservation and thy boundless love;
For all the favours that from thee have came,
Especially for health's new kindled flame!
That strength is now to them restor'd again,
Whilst by thy will some of their friends are slain!
Lord, wilt thou
grant that those who've liv'd in
sin,
May all refrain, and a new life begin!
Live temperate, be holy, just, and pure,
So long as time with them shall yet endure;
Conduct, indeed, like very righteous men,
Be
blest by
thee, for evermore.
AMEN.
AN ELEGY, On the DEATHS of the Citizens of Philadelphia, who were destroyed by a pestilential Infection, in the Year 1793.
IN Philadelphia has been slain,
Indeed it is a doleful sound!
Of diff'rent sects, a num'rous train.
Which now lie silent in the ground!
2.
A pestilence, which there did rage
With rapid force, has swept away
An hundred people from the stage,
Within the compass of a day!
3.
But sometimes less, and sometimes more,
The daily publications tell,
[Page 6] Upon that mournful city's shore,
In that short time, have often fell!
4.
The life and vigour they enjoy'd,
Alas! it was their dismal fate!
By this disease have been destroy'd,
And they mov'd from the present state!
5.
But happy is their lot indeed!
Their bodies now need no relief;
For in the silent grave they're freed
From trouble, sorrow, pain, and grief!
6.
Some worthy characters are dead!
Young children too, just in their bloom!
The middle-ag'd, the hoary head,
Have hurry'd been into the tomb!
7.
Alas! alas! we may relate,
That by experience we have found,
These losses truly have been great,
To relatives and all around!
8.
Let not the relatives repine,
Since the great GOD, who reigns on high,
By death, which is an act divine,
Rais'd their good friends above the sky!
9.
With patience run the heav'nly race,
Trust in the
Lord, and do not faint;
For the
Almighty, by his grace,
Supplies the wants of every faint.
10.
In prosp'rous times, or in distress,
You're in the great
Creator's care;
As ye pass through this wilderness,
Let nothing lead you to despair.
11.
He saves alive, and he doth kill;
For life and death from him do slow!
In heav'n above he does his will,
And on his footstool here below!
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12.
The famine, sword, and pestilence,
He sends to desolate the land!
Against the
Lord there's no defence.
None can restrain his mighty hand!
13.
As all he doth is good and right,
Let all his servants be content:
Be humble-minded day and night,
Under the troubles he hath sent.
14.
Serve ye the
Lord, and in him trust:
That when your days on earth shall cease,
Ye may be seated with the just,
In boundless realms of
joy and
peace!
A SONG OF PRAISE AND THANKS GIVING, Composed for THOSE who have RECOVERED of the pestilential Infection, in Philadelphia.
LET us praise GOD, who reigns on high,
The universal King,
Who rais'd the arches of the sky,
And formed ev'ry thing.
2.
Who gave the human species birth,
And pass'd a firm decree,
That all the sons of men on earth
Should grief and trouble see.
3.
He hath afflicted us with
pain,
Whilst thousands all around
Have by his
pestilence been slain,
And level'd with the ground!
4.
But in a time of deep distress,
He rais'd us up again;
[Page 8] And we within his wilderness
As monuments remain!
5.
We give thee thanks,
Almighty GOD,
That it was not our doom,
To be cast by thy chast'ning rod
Into the silent tomb!
6.
Assist us, by thy quick'ning grace,
To number so our days,
That we ourselves in every place
May walk in wisdom's ways.
7.
May we to
thee due homage pay,
Do good to all mankind,
Thy written laws always obey,
Live to thy will resign'd.
8.
And when we die, may we arise
Where thy good saints are blest,
In realms of joy, above the skies,
With happiness and rest!
November 13, 1793.
FINIS.
The AMERICAN ORACLE, Written by the AUTHOR of this, Containing A great Variety of useful and profitable Subjects, necessary to be known in all Families, may be had at the Post-Offices in Providence, Newport, and New-Haven; also of Mr. SAMUEL CAMPBELL, in New-York, and of Mr. DOBSON, in Philadelphia.
Likewise,
The FREEMASON's CALENDAR, for 1794, may be had at the Places already mentioned in Providence, Newport, and New-York.