POETICAL LINES, On the DESTRUCTION of the Citizens of Philadelphia, by a pestilential Infection, A. D. 1793

From Philadelphia comes a doleful sound, Of thousands slain, and buried in the ground! Who were alive and well three months ago; But of their fate at that time did not know. The young, the old, those of a middle age, With rapid force, have been swept from the stage! By an infection, which some people say From distant lands, somehow, has found the way: But some with boldness do this thing deny, And say the venom from the earth did fly; From filth expanded by Sol's burning heat, Or fumes proceeding from a dirty street; Thus generated, did infect the air With putrid exhalations ev'ry where, Within the limits of the city's bound; But not in places which the same surround. In Water-street this mortal Plague began, And with great slaughter through the city ran; From house to house the dread contagion flew, And on its way a num'rous train hath slew! In diff'rent ways the exhalations strike, And all the patients are not seiz'd alike; Their constitutions diff'ring much likewise, Make symptoms too of diff'rent kinds arise. Some who were seiz'd, had on the first attack Cold chills, and pains, both in the head and back, And in their limbs, and also in their bones, Exciting horror, gloom, and dismal groans! Within the stomach humours did convene, And vomiting did often supervene; The bile was black, and putrid too indeed, And haemorrhages sometimes did succeed; The pulse run high, but often very low. Sometimes too quick, and then as much too slow; The eyes grew red, their pupils did dilate; The fluids rush'd into a putrid state; The thirst was great, the urine colour'd high; The tongue turn'd white, the skin was hot and dry. The dang'rous fever often did remit; And was succeeded by an ague fit. Sometimes eruptions rose upon the skin, Exceeding thick on some, on others thin. Amongst great numbers of the human race, The putrefaction did gain ground apace: Its raging force at last became so keen, That death stept in, and clos'd the awful scene!

About this Plague physicians disagree, And other men, who from its virus flee: Great numbers who have seen its raging flames, By promulgation gave it diff'rent names, Some say it is the pestilence, indeed, Which from a foreign country did proceed. Another name few men of skill do find, Call it a fever of some yellow kind; Think it arose, as we do understand, By exhalations from the filthy land. We are inform'd, that no man can deny, That some knew not what med'cines to apply For this disease, which ne'er was known before To make an entrance on our solid shore!

The celebrated Doctor Rush did find, That calomel, with jalap well combin'd, Was the best purge, by far, that could be giv'n By any medicaster under heav'n, Phlebotomy he highly recommends To all physicians, and to other friends. Evacuations of these kinds repress'd The raging Plague, and thus sav'd the distress'd: But antiseptics often were employ'd; Till putrefaction was thereby destroy'd. For my own part, I do applaud his plan, And, with esteem, call him a skilful man.

From his infection but few have been free, But few exempt, of high or low degree, Unless they have from the great city fled, Before the virus o'er the same was spread; Or have not been in that large place at all, In August last, or any time this fall. Some people fell, 'tis said, on the first day! Though some liv'd longer, yet were swept away! Sometimes an hundred in one day, 'tis said, And often more, have in their graves been laid! Some thousands by the putrefaction fell! But some by chance have of the Plague got well. The air corrupt, made people then believe 'Twas dang'rous for them in the same to breathe! Hence many fled to keep off from its force, And settled in the country towns of course; The shops were shut, and business at a stand; The Plague, 'twas thought, would desolate the land! The people, pent as in a lonesome den, Sell not their goods unto their countrymen; The vessels too lay loaded by the shore, For want of hands the num'rous goods to store; The sweeping illness, by its rapid sail, Did cause the markets in the town to fail! For in the city ev'ry one did know, The country people were afraid to go, Lest the contagion they might thus convey, Lose their own lives, and fill men with dismay!

Perhaps, by writing, no man can express What people suffer'd in this great distress! For want of food, some very hand did fare, Some dy'd, no doubt, for want of proper care! Distressed objects on their beds did lie; The want of help produc'd a dismal cry! Their friends gone off, and their kind neighbours fled, That they might not be number'd with the dead! Whilst death and horror spread themselves around, Young children were by their dead mothers found! A shocking sight, indeed, for to behold! Made the spectator's very blood run cold! Thus parents slain! their infants left so small, Can't tell their names—some are not known at all! The sad destruction made the people groan! Bereav'd of wives, some Husbands live alone! The widows too (it cannot be deny'd) By this infection have been multiply'd. The fatherless and orphans did increase, Until the time the dreadful Plague did cease, Which did commence, as we've been often told, Upon the revolution of the cold; Which soon condens'd the stagnant atmosphere, And made the noxious vapours disappear; Fall to the ground, where they in ambush stay, Till Sol once more rolls on the northern way; His heat may then the poison filth expand, And desolate, for aught we know, the land!