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.