Forty-nine
years ago today – July 4, 1854 – B. P. Leland, local agent in Hamilton for
Phinney and Company, Booksellers, Buffalo, developed the first pronounced case
of cholera that for the next seven weeks carried desolation and sorrow into the
homes in this city. Mr. Leland was an American citizen, and was helping to
prepare for a picnic in Land’s Bush in the afternoon, to celebrate the fourth
of July. The day was very warm, and Mr. Leland drank a deal of ice water, which
brought on cramps. He was removed to his home as speedily as possible, but
within a few hours, he expired. On the 28th of June, a Norwegian
emigrant died at the City
Hospital after a few
hours’ sickness, and, at the time, it was given out that he died from heat
prostration. Several deaths following in quick succession from similar symptoms
finally led the doctors to pronounce it cholera. During the first thirteen days
in July there were 90 deaths, and in the same month, the daily death rate
ranged from 9 to 24 – the 23rd of the month, the highest number in
one day, reaching to 24. The epidemic raged for about six weeks, when the
number of deaths began to diminish till, finally, on the 21st of
August, the last known cholera case was the child of emigrant persons, who died
at the emigrant sheds. The total number of deaths from July 1 to August 31, as
reported by the board of health, was 531 and on the latter day, the board
issued a proclamation congratulating the people that the epidemic was at an end.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
It was glad tidings to the afflicted
city, as for seven weeks little attention was paid to business, for men and
women were more interested in the health and lives of their families than in
money-making. Every man in the city who could use woodworking tools was employed
in the making of coffins. John Blachford and Arthur Snelgrove were the only
undertakers in town, and it was impossible for them to bury the dead, or even
to supply coffins, but their hearses were kept busy from early morning till
late in the evening. Men, with horses and wagons, who could be tempted by high
prices offered to attend to the funerals, supplied the places of the
undertakers. It was a gruesome sight every afternoon to see the line of
funerals passing out York and King
street to the Burlington
and Roman Catholic cemeteries, and one that has never been forgotten by those
who lived in Hamilton
during that terrible epidemic.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The second of August was set apart by
proclamation of the mayor as a day of mourning, prayer and humiliation, and
probably no day was ever more religiously observed in this city. Nearly every
home had been invaded by the terrible scourge, and grim death had selected some
loved one as his victim. Everything in the form of amusement was suspended, and
Nickerson’s theatre, on the corner of John and Rebecca streets, was closed. The
people were in too serious a frame of mind to think much of pleasure. Even the
churches were deserted, as it was thought that there was danger of infection in
promiscuous assemblies. The newspapers had but little to say about the
prevalence of cholera in the city, and had it not been for the daily published
reports of the board of health, no one outside would have known of the scourge
that was bereaving so many homes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the cholera first broke out,
there were a number of emigrants in the sheds down on the bay front who had
been reduced in health by the poor fare and long sea voyages that was the lot
of the unfortunate poor who were coming to Canada in those days; and the
streets and alleys were in a very unsanitary condition. Walter M. Wilson, the
city editor of the Banner, who belonged to what was then called the new school
of phrenological doctors, became very much excited from the first outbreak of
the epidemic, and while he omitted the use of the word cholera from his
articles, he devoted considerable space every day calling attention to the
unsanitary condition of the streets and alleys. The Russian war was then going
on, and Mr. Wilson got it into his head that the pestilence of cholera that was
ravaging not only in Canada
and the United States,
but also other countries was a prelude to the millennium, and this doctrine he
preached daily in his newspaper articles. He thought that only the wicked would
engage in war and kill one another, and when there was none but the just left,
then the reign of peace would begin. Wilson
would never go from his home without a bottle of cholera mixture and his
pockets filled with chloride of lime. He was a man of deep religious
convictions and a total abstainer from the use of intoxicating liquors. He was
probably the best writer and scholar connected with the daily press in this
city at that time, but the terrors of the increasing death roll and the
constant funeral processions seemed to unbalance his mind. Mr. Wilson had three
bright little boys and the heart of the father was centered in them. The boys
were taken down with cholera and their mother was with them day and night, till
finally she was prostrated with the disease, and died within a few hours after
the attack. The approaching dissolution of his wife made poor William frantic,
and when the end came, he left the house and went to the hotel on the corner of
James and Main streets – now occupied by the Victoria Insurance company –
leaving his three sick children in the care of others. A. T. Freed was then
working on the Banner, and when he heard of Mr. Wilson’s condition, he went to
the hotel and remained with him during the night. Sometime during the next day
Mr. Wilson died. The mother died on Sunday evening and that night, one of the
boys also died. Two of the children recovered, and had it not been for the kind
care of friends – for relatives, they had none – they might have suffered. It
was one of the pathetic cases, of which there were many, during that terrible epidemic.
------------------------------------------------------------------
One morning, an Irish lady, aged about
80 years, died within a few hours from the time she was stricken down, and
before sunset that evening, her remains were taken out to the cemetery for
internment. On account of the number of deaths it was impossible to get the
number of graves dug in time, and many of the coffins were stored in the chapel
till the next day. The old lady’s son had read of people being buried alive
during the time of great epidemics, and so impressed was he that he returned to
the cemetery after the funeral and told the caretaker that he believed his mother
was not dead, and asked that the coffin be opened to at least satisfy him. At
first the caretaker tried to persuade the young man that if his mother was not
dead when they put her in the coffin, she could not then be alive, for she
would have smothered for want of air, but finding that he was bent on making
the investigation, the coffin was opened. The mother was alive. As soon as a
cab could be had the old lady was lifted from the coffin and brought back to
her home. The family physician was called and he worked for several hours with
restoratives, and by the next morning the lady was able tell the story of her
returning to consciousness, when she found herself in the coffin. She tried to
call out, but her voice was so weak that it doubtful if one could have heard
her even though he had been in the chapel. When the coffin lid was taken off,
she felt as if some great weight had been removed from her body and she
swooned. The next she knew was when she was restored to consciousness and
recognized her son and the family doctor. The old lady lived for many years
after and finally died of good old age. The son is still a citizen of Hamilton and is now
nearing four score. He never forgets the close call his mother had. There may
have been others.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hamilton
in 1854 had a population of less than 12,000 people; and when 44 out of each
thousand died within seven weeks, it is no wonder that the people were excited.
In New York City, with a population of 700,000 –
numbering nearly seven times more people than Hamilton had at that time – only 1,807 deaths
occurred from cholera, and not one hundred of those were adult Americans, the
great majority being foreigners. In Barbados, the mortality from
cholera, during six weeks of the same year was over 8,000. The science of
medicine has progress since those days, and epidemics are of rare occurrence
now. Sanitary laws are being enforced everywhere in civilized countries, and
the people have learned how to eat if they would be healthy. Before the civil
war in the United States,
yellow fever visited New Orleans
and other Southern cities as regularly as the year came around, and the
mortality list was fearful to contemplate. No one remained in New Orleans during the fever season who could
possibly get away. There were no underground sewers – nor are there any now,
though they are arranging to begin a system – in New Orleans and the polluted
sewage was carried off in surface drains by the constant flowing of water. When
Gen. Butler took command of that city in 1863, the first thing he did was to
organize a thorough system to clean the streets, and as a result, there were
but comparatively fewer cases of yellow fever that summer. Before the union
army evacuated New Orleans
at the close of the war, the yellow fever was almost stamped out. The city
government followed up the cleansing process, and such a thing as yellow fever
epidemics is unknown in that city now, and that disease is about stamped out
throughout the south. Cleanliness is the handmaid of godliness. Since the
Spanish-American war, the cities in Cuba have been passing through a purifying
process, and the city of Havana that was a perfect hotbed of yellow fever is
now almost as free from the disease as is New Orleans. Filth produces disease,
and the more energetic the board of health the less danger there is of
epidemics.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hamilton
has done much along sanitary lines in its enlarged system of sewers and in
scientific methods adopted for the final disposal of sewage. It is the only city
in Canada that has adopted
such a thoroughly scientific system, and there are less than a dozen cities in
the United States
with similar disposal works. As every Hamiltonian is supposed to know the
principle involved in the sewage disposal system, it is not necessary to go
into details; but for the ignorant outside world the statement is made that the
sewage of this city passes through a purifying process in the two disposals
works, the solids being separated from the liquids; and when the liquid passes
into the bay it is free from smell and looks as clear and sparkling as spring
water. The bay is no longer polluted by the outflow of filth being emptied into
it from the sewers. Hamiltonians can feel a just pride that there home city was
the first and only city in Canada
to stop the pollution of its bay and of Lake Ontario.
The time will come when it will be criminal to pollute the lakes and rivers and
streams with the filth from the cities and towns along the banks. There is one
thing yet for Hamilton
to do to make a perfect sanitary system, and that is to compel the connection
of all water closets and cesspools with the sewers. When that is done,
contagious diseases will be almost unknown in this city.
No comments:
Post a Comment