“To give you an idea of the disease: You remember Sergeant Heyl? He was well at nine o’clock in the morning–he was at the bottom of Lake Michigan at seven o’clock in the afternoon! I was officer of the day when we arrived and had to move all the sick men to the shore; I had scarcely got through my task when I was thrown down on the deck almost as suddenly as if shot.
“As I was walking on the lower deck, I felt my legs growing stiff from my knees down. I went on the upper deck and walked violently to keep up a circulation of the blood. I felt suddenly a rush of blood from my feet upwards, and as it rose my veins grew cold and my blood curdled. I was seized with a nausea at the stomach and a desire to vomit. My legs and hands were cramped with violent pain. The doctor gave me eight grains of opium and made me rub my legs as fast as I could; he also made me drink a tumbler and a half of raw brandy, and told me if I did not throw up the opium I would certainly be relieved; but not until I had had a violent spasm. The pain is excruciating.”
Another letter, written by Capt. A. Walker to Capt. R.C. Bristol, which first appeared in the Chicago Democrat, March 23d, 1861, was afterward copied in “Fort Dearborn,” page 72, in an address delivered by John Wentworth, May 21st, 1881, and published the same year by the Chicago Historical Society, and is as follows:
“* * * It will also be remembered, as stated in my former communication, that four steamers, the Henry Clay, Superior, Sheldon Thompson and William Penn, were chartered by the United States Government for the purpose of transporting troops, equipments and provisions to Chicago during the Black Hawk war, but owing to the fearful ravages made by the breaking out of the Asiatic cholera among the troops and crews on board, two of those boats were compelled to abandon their voyage, proceeding no further than Fort Gratiot. The disease became so violent and alarming on board the Henry Clay that nothing like discipline could be observed; everything in the way of subordination ceased. As soon as the steamer came to the dock each man sprang on shore, hoping to escape from a scene so terrifying and appalling. Some fled to the fields, some to the woods, while others lay down in the streets, and under the cover of the river bank, where most of them died unwept and alone.
“There were no cases of cholera causing death on board my boat until we passed the Manitou Islands (Lake Michigan). The first person attacked died about four o’clock in the afternoon, some thirty hours before reaching Chicago. As soon as it was ascertained by the surgeon that life was extinct, the deceased was wrapped closely in his blanket, placing within some weights, secured by lashing some small cordage around the ankles, knees, waist and neck, and then committed, with but little ceremony, to the deep.
“This unpleasant, though imperative duty, was performed by the orderly sergeant, with a few privates detailed for that purpose. In like manner twelve others, including this same noble sergeant, who sickened and died in a few hours, were also thrown overboard before the balance of the troops were landed at Chicago.
“The sudden and untimely death of this veteran sergeant and his committal to a watery grave caused a deep sensation on board among the soldiers and crews, which I will not here attempt to describe. The effect produced upon General Scott and the other officers in witnessing the scene was too visible to be misunderstood, for the dead soldier had been a very valuable man, and evidently a favorite among the officers and soldiers of the regiment.
“Some very interesting and appropriate memoranda were made by the steward of the boat at the time on one of the leaves of his account book (which is still in my possession) by quotations from one of the poets, such as ‘Sleep, soldier, sleep; thy warfare’s o’er,’ etc.
“On another leaf is a graphic representation of a coffin, made by pen and ink, placed opposite the account on the credit side of one of the volunteer officers, who died after reaching Chicago, with this singular and concise device or inscription written upon the lid of the coffin: ‘Account settled by death.’
“‘H. Bradley, Clerk and Steward,