Woman on the American Frontier: A Valuable and Authentic History of the Heroism, Adventures, Privations, Captivities, Trials, and Noble Lives and Deaths of the "Pioneer Mothers of the Republic"Fowler, William Worthington
History
Woman on the American Frontier: A Valuable and Authentic History of the Heroism, Adventures, Privations, Captivities, Trials, and Noble Lives and Deaths of the "Pioneer Mothers of the Republic"
Fowler, William Worthington
Frontier and pioneer life -- United States; Women -- United States -- Biography
Of all the widely isolated and remote cabins which sent their smoke curling
into the dank morning air of the region thereabouts, there was not one in
which disease was not already raging with fearful malignity. Doctors or
hired nurses there were none; each stricken household was forced to battle
single-handed with the destroyer who dealt his blows stealthily, suddenly,
and alas! too often, effectually. The news of the dreadful visitation soon
reached the family of Mr. H.--and for a period they were in a fearful
suspense. They were surrounded by the same malarial influences that had
made such havoc among their neighbors, and why should they escape? They
were living directly over a noisome cess-pool; their cellar was filled with
water which could not be drained away, nor would the saturated earth drink
it up. Centuries of vegetable accumulations forming the rich mould in which
the cellar was dug, gave out their emanations to the water, and the fiery
rays of the sun made the mixture a decoction whose steams were laden with
death.
There was no escape unless they abandoned their house, and this they were
reluctant to do, hoping that the disease would pass by them. But this was a
vain hope; in a few days Mr. H. was prostrated by the fever. Mrs. H. had
preserved her courage and energy till now, but her impressible nature began
to yield before the onset of this new danger. Her life had been sunny and
care-free from a child; her new home had till recently been the realization
of her dreams of happiness; but the loss of her husband would destroy at
once every fair prospect for the future. All that a loving wife could do as
a nurse or watcher or doctress, was done by her, but long before her
husband had turned the sharp corner between death and life, Mrs. H. was
attacked and both lay helpless, dependent upon the care of their only hired
man. Neighbors whose hearts had been made tender and sympathetic by their
own bereavements, came from their far-off cabins and for several weeks
watched beside their bedside. The attack of the wife commenced with a fever
which continued till after the birth of her child. For three days longer
she lingered in pain, sinking slowly till the last great change came, and
Mr. H., now convalescent, saw her eyes closed for ever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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