Glimpses of Christian History Presents Pastwords #171: Memoir of James Chisholm, Pastor Who Laid Down His Life for Plague Victims, by David Holmes Conrad ©2007

"How to know what our Sentence will be at the last Judgment: with an Exhortation to Reverence our own Consciences."

e come now to the fearful scourge that came down upon the devoted cities of Portsmouth and Norfolk, in the summer and autumn of 1855.

We have lingered around the threshold of this topic -- we dread to lift the pall -- we are pained to renew the griefs of that awful visitation.

But it is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting, for that is the end of all men. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning. We all have to mourn, and we may not, all, feast and rejoice. Let us recall these days of darkness, then; not with any wish to open up old wounds, to revive forgotten sorrows, but to exhibit the utter helplessness of man, the fearful fragility of his mortal body, the impotency of youth, and health, and riches, and station, to avert the arrow that flieth by day, the pestilence that walketh in darkness, the sickness that wasteth at noon-day; but to exhibit him, at the same fearful hour, rising above fear -- looking beyond the grave -- defying these arrows in the strength of a high and holy trust -- and calmly fulfilling the noblest duties of humanity, amidst squalor, dying groans, mortal terrors, and the last offices to the pestilential corpse. This brightening up of God's undying image, in his fallen creature, comes from a light which shines through the sepulcher. It first was lit up, on that memorable resurrection morn, succeeding the last typical Passover, in Joseph of Arimathea's "own new tomb;" it has ever since, through that open sepulcher, cast forth its heaven-derived radiance along a bright but narrow path. Blessed is the man that cometh to that Light.

We have no desire to follow in the track of Boccacio, or Defoe, or Pepys. We have no right to assume the office of historian of the Yellow Fever at Gosport, Portsmouth, and Norfolk, in the summer and autumn of 1855.

We were not eye-witness to the same, but Mr. Chisholm was. He never left the spot until he was carried to his grave, about the 11th of September. He was besides a voluntary sojourner there. He was urged to fly, as thousands of his neighbors did. He approved of their doing so, in his benign and charitable estimate of others, while he positively, and upon reasons assigned, chose himself to remain. It is due to his memory that these reasons should be given -- hence I publish his journal from the 27th day of July to the 11th of August, inclusive, and follow it up with his letters, subsequent to the day of his being seized himself. These details are needful; they may peradventure, in some cases renew sorrow, but they are never calculated to produce pain or shame. Certainly the reader will see that they were never so intended by the amiable narrator. If, however, there should be a sentence or an allusion calculated to do so, it has escaped the eye of the author, who has been compelled, by professional engagements, to prepare the narrative irregularly, out of continuity, and with many interruptions. He prays forgiveness and a kind construction of his motives, in limine. A History of the Plague will be sought for hereafter. Should not such authentic data as we can give be laid out for the future annalist of that dark and desolating pestilence?

JOURNAL OF EVENTS

Friday, July 27. -- On my arrival in Portsmouth the afternoon of the day I parted with you all at the depot in Petersburg, I learned that Mrs. M. had just died at the Crawford House. At dead of night on Thursday night, two gentlemen went from Mr. McFadden's sick chamber in quest of me, and not finding me, called on Mr. Hume, who had very satisfactory interviews with the dying man. The funeral, which took place at sunset, within three hours of dissolution, was the only one which has been followed by a procession of carriages. Throughout his illness, by day and by night, Mr. M. received every attention from the young gentlemen of Portsmouth. The weather is intensely sultry; the moon-light nights lovely. You know that it is nor a week since public attention was awakened to the existence of yellow fever in Gosport. This evening Mr. H. gave permission to the removal of Mr. And Mrs. G. to his farm-house.

Saturday, July 28. -- It is reported that a corpse, uncoffined, was found this morning as late as 7 o'clock, in the Roman Catholic church-yard; the body of some member of that church who died over night, and whose friends were determined that it should be buried in consecrated ground. But this is against the town laws. In this state of things a portion of Portlock's Cemetery is appropriated to the future interment of Roman Catholics who may die of the disease. The poor Irish girl at Captain L's, who had lost one of her family, has now lost them all, and is alone in the world. Moreover, having gone over to Gosport in the midst of the infection, it is not deemed safe by the L-s to receive her back into their family. But Captain L, is making great exertions to secure some place for a nightly shelter to this and another poor Irish girl similarly situated. Until ten o'clock at night they were roaming about the streets, as many of their countrymen and women have been doing for several nights. At last a temporary refuge is obtained for these girls in the Academy for two nights.

Sunday, July 29. -- Very early in the morning it is discovered that several of the Irish from Gosport are hanging about the Academy inclosure. Soon a gathering of citizens from various quarters takes place, and the excitement occasioned by the apprehension that the Academy is to become a rendezvous for members from the seat of infection, become so great that the Irish all leave the spot, and the Academy becomes closed up again. However, these poor creatures received every humane attention, and good food and clean clothing come in to them in abundance from various families in this and the neighboring streets. Not having articles of food in the house myself, I handed Mrs. P. $1 to be appropriated to their relief. The pest-house, temporarily constructed out in the vicinity of Portlock Cemetery, and upon which many of our citizens have been working day and night for the past forty-eight hours, is completed and made ready for the reception of sufferers. But now, behold, unlooked-for difficulties arise and threaten to defeat the wise and benevolent plan of removal. In the first place, the wretched and squalid patients in Irish Row positively refused to abandon their pestilential abodes. These, in number between three hundred and four hundred, reeking in nameless abomination of filth and stench, and exhibiting in their conduct towards one another a hard-heartedness of which we would not have dared to believe human nature capable under such circumstances, reveling and fighting and quarrelling amongst the dying and over the dead -- they refuse to stir. It became necessary shortly before service-time to send away for their priest, Mr. D., to come among them and use such authority for this end as his official relation gave him over them. This difficulty being adjusted, and their consent to go being obtained by mingled ecclesiastical promises and fulminations, new trials present themselves. Neither the vehicles nor hands to assist in lifting in the patients and driving them over to the new pest-house can be obtained on any consideration. Thus the day wears away, and I never saw a more disheartened band of men than our physicians.

Monday, July 30. -- Applications having been renewedly made by the physicians in every direction, and steadily and flatly refused by the alarmed citizens, they finally, to-day, have to employ their own servants and carts. After numberless difficulties had been encountered and successively obviated, the removal of the great body of the patients from Irish Row, took place this morning. The creatures were actually unwilling to help one another -- the well, the invalids -- and the physicians and Mr. D. together, assisted most of them into the carts. A most melancholy spectacle is the removal, under the noon-day heat of an almost tropical sun. Nine carts were filled with sufferers, in some cases two in a cart, lying prostrate; in others, three or four sitting. Their agonized faces and their piteous groans awakened mingled horrors and compassion. Even after they had been transferred, these unfortunates became discontented and unruly, and in one instance, at least, actually escaped to town, hiding no one knows where. Between 11 o'clock and 1, I was engaged in going the rounds among my people in Newtown and Gosport. Found all perfectly well, though some were in the midst of pestilence and death. The R-s were on the borders of the ill-fated district. They were dejected and undecided what to do. Their beautiful floral garden, flaunting a gayety and glory of colors and forms which seem to mock the human misery around, had ceased to afford complacency to the enthusiastic horticulturist. Thence went over to S-'s. In the same block, now abandoned by all but themselves, there had been, the previous week, disease and death. On the opposite side of the narrow street was the house tenanted by Mrs. K. and her family, and Mr. G, her son-in-law; the latter and Mrs. K-'s two daughters very sick, (within forty-eight hours after, they all three died.) Mrs. S., so busy in her culinary preparations below stairs that she did not hear my knock for some time. Her doors and windows facing the sick houses, all closed. She tells me they can not remove; that they have taken every precaution in the use of disinfectants, etc., and that she trusts that God will preserve them in the midst of danger, or prepare them for His holy will, which contingency she seems desirous to meet in a Christian spirit. As I left the house, Mr. S. came home from the yard to dinner, well and cheerful. I begged them to apprise me in case they should be taken sick. To-day and yesterday have been dismal days in our community. The angel of death is, as it were, hovering in mid-air over our towns, waiting the divine mandate, to deal around pestilence and death; for to-day the alarming discovery is made that seventeen cases have broken out in one vicinity on Water street, in Norfolk. I can not describe the appearance of the streets at this intelligence, or the dejected and panic-stricken appearance of the inhabitants. But as yet there is no evidence that the uneasiness of the public mind has exerted a disturbing influence upon business. One store only, Mr. M-'s dry goods store has been closed, and thus far every case reported has been traced to the one locality in Gosport as its source. This morning I called upon Mrs. M., who is staying at Mr. W.'s.

Tuesday, July 31. -- Early this morning three graves have been dug for those who had died in the night. The hands employed in digging for became exhausted. To-day, about 2 P.M., a fine thunder-shower, after which the weather became much cooler, an agreeable contrast to the intense sultriness of the previous week. This morning the deputation of citizens who had been to Washington to solicit the use of the Naval Hospital, returned, announcing the successful result of their suit. The wife of Mr. F., who a few days ago had removed from the infected district to King street, but convalescent. Manifestly the excitement is subsiding. At 5 P.M., called on Mrs. C., whom I found very well and cheerful. Whilst conversing upon the great calamity of the day she evinced her characteristic tranquility and self-command as well as considerate allowance for the timidity of those who could not control their fears, as Mr. M., who had left town. It is characteristic of her to be thoughtful for others. In the course of conversation she remarked that she had allotted to-morrow (Wednesday) to making a quantity of that powerful disinfectant, thieves' vinegar, for the supply of several of her friends who had requested it, her own former supply being well-nigh exhausted. She expressed her intention of sending me some to use in case of being called to attend in sick rooms. She then proceeded to narrate to me the tradition in regard to the origin of the name of this preparation. I took leave just as the Weldon train was entering Crawford street, and we indulged in some playful comment on the extreme timidity manifested by some of the passengers. Took tea with Mr. R. at Mr. W.'s last night. Near midnight the captain of the Augusta in alarm left his wharf at N., and sailed away to Old Point.

Wednesday, August 1. -- Very damp atmosphere, with frequent showers all day long. Mr. M., of Gosport, gunner, was carried over to the hospital, sick of the fever, (he did not survive his removal forty-eight hours.) At tidings of M-'s sickness, his neighbor, R., took the alarm, and made arrangements for removing his family to Baltimore, having been warned by his physician that if he spent another night in Gosport it would be at the risk of his life. The Baltimore papers of Saturday evening, had notified that henceforward no one from Gosport would be received on the boats of the daily line. R., to his amazement, learned this prohibition just as he was about to take the boat. He sat down and wept bitterly, asking if they would require him and his to stay in Gosport to die. Then arousing to the conviction that no time must be lost, he went and procured a wagon to take himself and family to a house about three miles from town, whose occupant had offered to board him, or rent him apartments. But scarcely had they got seated in the house, when the family began to give signs of the utmost alarm. After remaining an hour or so, and entirely failing to quell their apprehensions, he was obliged (the night had come on, and it was raining,) to look up some conveyance in the neighborhood for the removal of his family to town. With some difficulty he succeeded, and they reached town after 9 o'clock at night, and sought and found shelter from the elements, and a hospitable reception, with a family of connection on Court street. A few days afterwards they left for Philadelphia. In the afternoon, funeral of old Gen. Hodges. P.M., called on Mr. And Mrs. S. At night, called on the L-s. This afternoon, H., a German, of neat personal habits and steady, excellent character, died of yellow fever, and was buried. He resided back of Hugh street, between it and King street, in the vicinity of the F-s and G-s. Also, in the same vicinity, the police-officer is very sick, (he died in forty-eight hours.)

Thursday, August 2. -- This is a morning of frowning skies and dreary prospects. Coffins are being ordered before the deaths of patients. This morning, Mr. S. received from the hospital an order for three coffins at once, and a request to have two more in readiness within a few hours, as they would be inevitably required. In several instances within the last few days, it has been found next to impossible to obtain persons to shroud the corpses, and lift them into the coffins. It is found equally impractable to procure any to assist in removing the sick from their homes to the hospital. This morning the family of H., (the German,) who died yesterday, consisting of his wife and daughter, sick with the fever, were carried from their house to the cart by the physician and his brother, and the priest. No other aid could be obtained, though the opposite pavement was crowded with curious spectators. Two little boys of the family yet remained at the now desolate home. The spectacle of these children sitting out on the pavement, after the removal of their family, was heart-touching. Mrs. H. and daughter lingered a few days, and died. There are daily new indications of the gradual shutting off of the various avenues of communication between this place and the rest of the country. On Tuesday, the decree of the Mayor of New-York was received, announcing that the Jamestown and Roanoke would no longer come to Norfolk, but touch at Old Point for exchange of freight, passengers, etc., on her way to and from Richmond. Yesterday, Wednesday, the stage-coach running between Portsmouth and Elizabeth City, was arrested within ten miles of the latter place, and sent back with its load of passengers, the U.S. Mail alone being allowed to go to Elizabeth City. New cases of fever are occurring in M-'s and B-'s family. It now becomes palpably plain that the district inclosed by High, Crawford, King, and Middle streets, is an infected district. There is sickness all through it, and in part of Middle and County streets adjacent. To-day, a man has been employed to convey the sick to the hospital. He was W-'s baggage-wagon, fitted up with bed and a canvas covering. He is driving like Jehu up and down the streets, smoking furiously, and, I am told, drinking inordinately. He has done a heavy day's work in this line. When at night-fall he arrived with his last load at the hospital, he complained of feeling excessively fatigued, and the physician jocosely remarked to him that he himself would be the next one brought thither. And sure enough, the next morning, Friday, he was brought in, and on the next Monday night, died. Called at Mrs. R-'s and N-'s and Mrs. G-'s. Court street is alive this afternoon with fires of tar. Very cool and damp evening. The disease is manifestly alarmingly on the increase. Among others who have been taken to-day to the hospital, are S. and his wife and child, whom I saw well on Monday. Streets at night begin to have a dreary appearance, nearly all the stores being closed by dark. Families and individuals have been leaving town for several days past, but there are growing indications of a wide-spread, uncontrollable panic, and the ensuing days will probably witness a great exodus.

Friday, August 3. -- By day-break every part of the town is astir. Hacks, carts, wheelbarrows, porters laden with trunks, valises, and boxes, and hastening as if for life, are seen in every street: whole families are seen in a body, threading their way with agitated countenances and hurried steps, each parent's arms laden with helpless children; and by sun-rise the depot wharf presents a scene of crowded human life and personal effects, such as I have never before seen. Many hundreds left this morning by the Richmond, and the other morning boats. The stream of migration which commenced this morning, continued all day long. At 8 A.M. the cars carry away their unwontedly large freight of human life. Throughout the day private conveyances are moving in every direction, and dray-loads of trunks and baggage. In the afternoon the Baltimore boat bears away its scores perhaps hundreds. It is estimated that two or three thousand inhabitants have already gone. The day is bright, beautiful, and cool. In the course of the day Mr. A. G. died. A tragic tale has been the history of his family, for the past two weeks. His household consisted of himself and wife, his young son, and a married daughter with her husband, Mr. And Mrs. G. The latter had an infant only a fortnight old. They resided on Henry street, Gosport. The yellow fever broke out in Mrs. G-'s family about the 20th. His son, and daughter, and son-in-law were taken sick. His sister, Mrs. J.D., of Southampton county, was residing with them. A cousin also, Mrs. J., came over from Portsmouth, on hearing of the indisposition of the family, to stay and minister among them. About Monday, the 23d, Mrs. G-'s son died. By Thursday, the 26th, Mr. And Mrs. G. were added to the victims. At this stage, Mrs. D. fled, alarmed, by the cars, to her residence in the country, and a few days after was seized with yellow fever; she was abandoned by every attendant and left to die alone. No one could be induced to enshroud her remains, or to put them into a coffin for decent interment. At length the corpse was hastily wrapped up in a blanket by the physician's servants and thus interred. Mrs. J., who had gone unsuspecting into danger, petitioned to be received again amongst the friends she had left; but it was not deemed prudent to permit her to return. On Saturday morning, July 28, the family, now reduced to three persons, were conveyed to the farm house, tendered to their occupancy by Mr. H., where on Monday morning, 30th, Mrs. J. died. Mr. G. continued to linger in a dying condition, until to-day. This evening he died. But for the ceaseless, self-sacrificing and heroic attention of their kinsman, Mr. Holliday, who has been with them the chief part of each day and night, their sufferings would have been more deplorable than they were; for it was impossible to procure, for money or any other consideration, the requisite nursing and attendance. [Mrs. G., the last of the seven victims out of one house, was removed after her husband's death, on Saturday, to the hospital, where she expired on Monday, August 6. I saw her at the hospital on Saturday, but she was too ill to notice any one.]

Saturday, August 4. -- Yesterday afternoon I called to take leave of Mrs. P., when Miss B. mentioned to me Mrs. C-'s indisposition, and spoke of the suffering she experienced in her head. I made some allusion to the singular effects produced upon the system by the homeopathic treatment. It seems that on Tuesday night, about 9 o'clock, (only three hours after my call,) Mrs. C., who had been sitting in the damp air for a considerable time, remarked that she felt a chilly sensation, and withdrew to substitute for her dress a thicker one. In the act of doing so, she had a decided chill, and immediately went to bed and sent for the physician. She continued indisposed, as she and the inmates of the house all thought, but slightly, until Friday night. Last night at half-past ten, after I had undressed and as I was about to extinguish my light, a step was heard at my door. It was Mr. K., announcing to me that Mrs. C. was very ill of yellow fever, and there was no hope of her recovery. I found her very calm -- perfectly resigned to the will of God -- placing her trust in the merits of her Saviour; she was suffering, occasionally vomiting. I prayed with her, and then returned home. About half-past one, I was again roused up to go and see her. She was probably aware of the nature of her disease, and had already intimated the day before to Miss B., that she had presentiment of death. At this second visit she was constantly vomiting dark blood; but she was still calm, and expressed the hope that she would soon be with Christ in glory. I reminded her of the promise: "Leave with me thy fatherless children." The servants who constantly attended her, bear witness to the lovely and uniform submission to the Lord's will which characterized her every utterance. She seemed fearful of even entertaining a thought other than "the will of the Lord be done." About an hour before her departure she remarked, whilst turning herself over in the bed: "I think I shall die now, in a short time;" and then immediately added, "But it is wrong for me to say so - I ought not to say so; when the Lord pleases, is the right time: I desire only that the Lord's holy will be done." She desired her pious servant, Richard, to pray with and for her. At her instance, a lady was sent for who had indulged a groundless and wicked resentment towards her, and when she came, assured her that for herself she entertained no ill-feeling whatever, desired that if she had ever given occasion of offense to her, she would forgive it; and then she proceeded in the sweetest, most persuasive tone, to exhort her to be converted and become a happy Christian, and thus be in readiness for the final summons, come when and how it might. Similar language she used to other family connections who called to see her. She lingered through Saturday, and expired on Sunday morning about three -- just a year and twelve hours after her husband, a coincidence to which she herself adverted. Her interment took place at 2 P.M. on Sunday. The burial service was pronounced by me, at the grave, Mr. J.C., G. H., and one or two others being present. By sun-rise this morning the depot wharf was again crowded by an anxious multitude, several hundred in number, seeking safety in flight; and from that hour onward throughout the day, has there been a continued stream of egress from every possible or conceivable avenue. The tidings of Mrs. C-'s illness this morning spread perfect consternation far and wide, and determined hundreds who had not even entertained a serious purpose of the kind, upon leaving the town before set of sun. Throughout the day, new cases of the fever are reported on every street. Such a day of mortal panic and flight as to-day has been, I desire never to see again. -- Sunset. -- The town would seem to be by this time nearly deserted. Whole streets, of the best located and built in town, are left without a white occupant, (Isai. 5: 9:) "Of a truth, many houses are desolute, even great and fair, without inhabitant." As a friend observed to-day: "Houses and lots, and lands, are of no account now." What a comment are the incidents of to-day upon these words in Job: "All that a man hath will he give for his life;" upon these words of our Saviour, "The life is more than meat, and the body than raiment." Oh ! that amidst this fearful crisis, I could have witnessed some evidence of heed to this admonition of our Lord: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and all things shall be added thereto." There is a little fulfillment in our midst, from house to house, of that fearful judgment denounced upon the disobedient Israelites of old: "The Lord hath given us a trembling heart, and failing of eyes, and sorrow of mind; and our lives hang in doubt before us; and we fear, day and night, and have none assurance of our lives. In the morning we say, Would God it were morning; for the fear of our heart wherewith we fear, and for the sight of our eyes which we see." The Suffolk proclamation is received, interdicting either public entertainment or private hospitality to any citizens of Portsmouth, and threatening a penalty of $100 to any one who should dare come.

Sunday, August 5. -- What a Sabbath stillness pervaded sea and land, streets and by-ways, as the sun rose upon the place. But in an hour or two, the car-bell was the signal of a new stampede of multitudes. Had but one service to-day, and scarce a dozen in attendance. Reports of the deaths of some, and the etreme illness of others, who had been sick only a day or two. Saw the S-s at the hospital. She is perfectly unconscious; has not been heard to speak since Saturday morning; has had the black vomit most violently; great apparent suffering; every breath accompanied by a groan, which I could hear at some distance. She expired about three hours after I saw her. He is quite calm, but his case is doubtful. Addressed him a few words of advice, begging him to pray. Saw him frequently afterwards.

Monday, August 6. -- The day dawns in clouds and gloom. Very cool, as last week, with repeated showers. The condition of the atmosphere is believed to favor the rapid dissemination of the disease. New cases reported hourly. Mr. S., the cabinet-maker and undertaker, finding it utterly impossible to meet the demand for coffins, when some ten or twelve are required daily, has been obliged, this morning, to make application to the commander of the Navy-Yard for aid. He received fifty-two coffins, four of which were in immediate requisition. It is observed that the streets through which the "sick-cart" holds its dreary way, to and fro, are now specially smitten by the fever. John P. died this morning. Others of his father's family are quite sick of the fever. This young man entertained a high regard for old Mr. H., who lived next door, and whose death took place last Wednesday. He staid almost constantly with Mr. H., attending and nursing him day and night. He continued his visits and attentions even after the appearance of black vomit convinced him of Mr. H-'s disease. In a day or two he was taken, and yesterday and last night the hearts of his friends were gladdened by the evidences of convalescence -- a fine night's rest, all tranquil and promising; and then of a sudden, towards morning, a little uneasiness supervened, and them, in a few minutes, the appearance of the dreaded black vomit conveyed the astounding announcement that all was over. And my own observation is, that generally, yellow-fever patients in the collapsed stage look comparatively well, only a little languid, even when all hope has been surrendered, and they are within a few hours of dissolution. It is announced, to-day, that the last regular trip will be made to-day by the Weldon train. In future the train will stop at Suffolk as its terminus, and may send on a small car with the daily mail to this place. The Baltimore boat will enter the harbor to-morrow morning for the last time. Every person leaving Portsmouth by public conveyance in any direction, for the future, must present a written pass or permit, certifying that he is in good health, and signed by the President of the Sanitary Committee. No bundle is allowed to passengers, only a trunk, and even when the condition imposed by these restrictions are strictly complied with, they find it difficult to escape.

This evening we all remove out to the Poor House; a vast relief; for the heart, almost sick with the dire incidents of daily town life, is ready to sigh:

"Oh ! for a lodge in some vast wilderness."

Tuesday, August 7 -- Wednesday, 8 -- Thursday. -- I remark the adherence to truth and nature with which famine is coupled, in the deprecations of the Litany, with plague and pestilence, as an attendant calamity. Great fears are entertained lest there may be actual suffering, from failure of the necessaries of life, between the present time and the reopening of the now-closed stores, which can not take place under two months hence. Throughout the earlier part of this week, not a quart of meal was to be obtained in town. Since then Mr. M. has obtained some forty bushels by a roundabout course, from Suffolk. His store, the only grocery except B-'s now daily open on High street, opens about 9 A.M. and closes at 4 P.M.. (the hours observed on the Pontine Marshes.) The only other stores open throughout our main business street are the dispensaries, whose doors are beset by an anxious throng in quest of medicines; and the undertaker's, when those who have time and inclination call in order to know the number of deaths reported, coffins ordered, and interments in progress. There are no sounds, either of mirth or of business, in the main avenues; no groups of grave men on the pavement; no bands of frolicsome children in the highways or byways; no social gatherings; no hearty salutations and accostings when men meet, for every one seems to be dubious about his approaching neighbor; no bridals; no baptisms; not even "dirges dire and sad funereal array," at the constantly-occurring burials. The ominous "sick wagon," with its tall white canopy, dashes up and down the empty streets; and the black hearse, bearing its coffined burden, (or burdens, for sometimes there are more than one carried out at a time,) rattle by one with an indecent and revolting haste, not one emblem of sorrow, or accompaniment of human sympathy, relieving its sinister effect. On Wednesday, August 8, there were eleven burials -- not funerals -- for in these woful days man receives an interment but little better than the burial of a dog. The daily average of deaths, from the beginning of this month, is about eight. When the deaths occur in the daytime, the interments take place between one and three hours after dissolution. Amongst the distressful accompaniments of our calamity is the almost callous indifference manifested by the bereaved after the first day or two. Those who have lost their dearest friends within a week past, are in several instances observed to be walking about, and conversing and smiling as if nothing had happened. Much of this lack of sensibility, however, is assumed through "dire necessity;" some of the afflicted, anxious to effect their escape from the place, actually assumed the air of cheerfulness, and put away mourning habiliments, as travellers, lest some keenly scrutinizing glance might read their recent history, and divine the place and occasion of their departure, and the sad tale of their present circumstances; some ominous wink or finger-end might seem to say: "That person was also one of them -- his troubled appearance and faltering speech bewrayeth him." And thus the wo-worn fugitives forfeit every rite of public entertainment or private hospitality. On Tuesday 7, visited Mrs. Y. Her daughter is the Mrs. F. who moved from Gosport to King street, near the market, about two weeks ago, to escape disease, and was immediately seized with the pestilence, and is supposed to have infected that district. Last Saturday they again moved from King street to Washington street, where I found them. Mrs. Y. is past recovery, having the black vomit. But she is conscious, although so deaf in consequence of the influence of quinine, that I am obliged, in conversation and in prayer, to raise my voice to the loudest tones. Repeated my call on Wednesday, and on Thursday at 6 1/2 P.M., when one of those scenes of unmitigated distress presented itself, such as can only take place during the reign of pestilence. Mrs. Y. had just died in agony indescribable, and her daughter was alone in the house (save a little girl about ten years of age) to close her parent's eyes, and to render the last offices to her corpse in preparation for the burial. She, Mrs. F., was sitting, holding in her arms her only child, three years old -- yesterday, well; now, in a dying condition. The floor around was covered with black vomit, which the child had just thrown up. Its little dress was likewise smeared with vomit and blood from the nostrils. Meantime the sad tidings had just reached Mrs. F. that her husband at the hospital was in a most unpromising condition. Thus, in one short hour, the relations of mother, wife, and daughter, which she had previously sustained, amid circumstances of unruffled happiness, were dissolving before her eyes. And she who, as she then observed, had never before known a trouble or affliction, was about to be left alone and desolate in the world. What a night of horror was before her. Alone with her mother's corpse and her dying child, and every watch of the night ringing as it were the knell of her dying husband. Ah! it was a difficult work to apply the consolations of our holy religion to one overtaken by such a storm of calamities. The actual history of the past eight or ten days, and the present condition of our afflicted town, have realized more than the apprehensions which the most timid or despondent could have ventured to forecast. It is awful! Not only is all communication by public lines, wither by land or by water, utterly cut off, or so fettered and obstructed as to amount to nearly the same thing, but all approach of any one from Portsmouth to any settlement or village in the vicinity is absolutely interdicted. At Old Point, fugitives from our town are met by the point of the bayonet. And I very much fear many will be the cases of suffering of our poor inhabitants, fleeing from their homes for their own lives and the lives of their families, and refused a reception in the places whither they flee. Already have several such fugitives died, and died without one of the few solaces they would have enjoyed in sickness in their own plague-smitten town. The instance has been reported to me of a Mrs. - who, with her mother, fled to the premises of a near relation some seven or eight miles from town; was there seized with yellow fever; was forsaken by every friend and neighbor; in her extremity desired to have Christian ministration or at least to hear hymns sung, but asked in vain, and at last sung herself till her utterance and breath failed. It was with the utmost difficulty that a rude cart could be procured to carry her body to the burial. And it was drawn by a steer. At Hampton the privilege of interment in the church-yard was denied in the case of a young lady, and only child, from Portsmouth, who had sickened and died a mile from Hampton. All her family connection for generations were interred in the church-yard. Her father, the same day returning to Portsmouth, was not permitted to pass through Hampton, on his way to the steamboat which stopped there for passengers.

Further daily entries in this form are not found.

. . . . This last letter was written on a sheet containing a longer detailed report from Mr. Chisholm's friend, host, and parishioner, E.A. Hatton, who wrote almost daily to the anxious family in Cumberland county.

To the Author.

"Portsmouth, August 25, 1855.
"MY BELOVED FRIEND: Again I am able to report myself, in rejoinder to your last most acceptable letter, as a pensioner upon the bounties of an indulgent and forbearing Creator. The week now drawing to a close has surpassed, in features of woful interest, either preceding week. On Tuesday there were seventeen interments; on Wednesday, nineteen; yesterday, twenty-one. Occasionally a day occurs in which the destroying angel seems to be passing, and suspending his terrible work. Since sunset of yesterday, I suppose some fifteen must have been buried. Often has the faithful wife, after days and nights of incredible endurance and exertion, been obliged to lave and shroud, unassisted, the corpse of her husband; the daughter or son, a parent; the father or mother, a beloved child; the husband, his wife. And not only this, but the very nearest of kin are called on by the emergency of the case to deposit the loved and deplored one's mortal remains in the coffin, and perhaps to assist to bear it forth, over the threshold of home, to the hearse. By these and similar occurrences the sensibilities of the most tender-hearted are in a measure blunted; and we learn to take our part, with calm apathy, in scenes, the report of which, in other times, would have 'harrowed up our souls.' But even amid all these appalling incidents -- incidents which seem almost involuntarily to force the cry, 'Hath the Lord forgotten to be gracious? and are His mercies clean gone for ever?' God mercifully vouchsafes glorious manifestations of His presence amongst us, as a faithful Creator and most merciful Saviour. Amid the involuntary groans of vanquished nature in the sufferer, and the wails of heart-stricken friends around, the calm, holy response of triumphant Faith is oft-times heard, proclaiming that the last foe has been conquered, and more than conquered, through Him who loved us, and that already 'Heaven lifts its everlasting portals high.' What was my gratification to meet yesterday, in my daily visit to the hospital, my old friend Randolph Harrison. He has been ordered hither for the present. He looks in good condition, and we had a most pleasant chat. In hope of being able to resume this correspondence at an early date, and desiring you to continue to write to me whenever you have a period of leisure, I remain devotedly yours,
J. CHISHOLM.