The Middlebury people's press. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1841-1843, 1841-12-07
MISCELLANEOUS.
A THRILLING STORY.
1.-THE important question is not that we die,
But how we dien

| iucd. uefe lnNdIluS are Cuielly StIdnScIS3 idi
from home, kindred and friends. Upon their
entrance through its massive halls and into ITS
sombre cells, their names are recorded upon
the books of the institution, with the place OF
birth, time of arrival, &C., and their departure
from thence is as scrupulously noted. The IA
tai word DEAD opposite many of the names
meets the eye of the visitor, and calls up feel
iugs in no wise calculated to render his soJourn
there one of mere pleasure or amusement; 1t
is, in fact, a visit to charnel house, where
death revels in his majesty of strength, and
makes the human frame the the scene of his
banquet song, the music of which is
.The groan, the kneI, the pail, the bcr.'
Death becomes fmiliar amid such scenes,
and the heart callous to his power they look
upon it as one of the privileges of human ma
ture, and as "if life without it were not worth
taking" 1t is indeed here
-----HThe poor, the prisoner and the mourner
Fly for relief, AND LAY THEIR BURDENS DOWN"
The writer of this has frequently looked over
the books of entry, and among the recorded
names of its deceased occupants he has recog
nized many who have left their peaceful homes
and ''ain firesides," to satisfy either rowing
disposition, or to avoid mans inhumanity to
man, which in northern cities pursue the poor
and nescesitous even to the prison walls. The
widows son here breathed his last, while she
mourned his absence-not his death her let
tiers remained at the post office, and she GEN.
sures him in her silent hours of grief for his
neglect But she excuses him on the ground
of youth and smiles in her widowhood on the
hope-little dreaming it is but hope deferred,
"meting even in the ray in which 1t glltters."
The lover, too, sleeps in death, and the mai
den, in her far off home dreams OF Joy and hope
which can never be hers. One name among
those is written on memory's tablet, and will
only disappear when the mirrored surface is
broken, and recorded things washed out by the
stream of time, leading, as it does, down to
the ocean of oblivion. The name of HUGH
REINAGLE is engraved on the piece of marble
in the American burying ground, New Orleans,
erected to his memory by one who loved him
living, and mourns him dead. Peace to his
ashes
Many blooming cheek has faded, and ma
ny bright eye grown dim and lustreless; ma
ny joyous heart has fallen beneath the Upas
breath of the fiend of the South.
What contrast there is between the sum-
mer and the winter of the South; the first
which in other chimes is all sunshine and Joy
to the young heart, is there all gloom and sor
row. There, winters arc the sunshine and
spring Of the year.
But let us return TO the Hospital. The rea-
der must imagine TO himself long room, on
each side of which, extending the whole length,
is range of single beds on each one, (Which
is frequently the case during an epidemic) let
him picture victim lying in all the agony of
Il, -Iat leo
imagine the effect of the disease upon the In
mates, which, according TO the different con-
situations, or the nature of attack, act In dit
ferent ways. One in the last gasp of death
vomits up the dark particles, formed by mortl-
fication, and which is termed ''black vomit !"
his eyes are fixed, his senses gone, his limbs
writing. Another raves in frenzy wild, tear
ing the clothes in pieces, and rolling of on
the floor, dies ere attendants can replace him.
Let the reader picture such scene, and he
will form tolerable idea of the place which
words are inadequate to describe. In no city,
however, are the poor more carefully attended,
during the severe scourge, than they are IN
New Orleans but my readers must take into
consideration the number misfortune renders
amenable to the cause of death.
On one of the beds near the centre of the
room lies sick man in the last agonies of dis
ease. The officiating physicians had Just in
formed him there was no hope-death was
doing its work. The man resigned himself
calmly to his hard fate. On the bed which
stood Immediately opposite that of the dying
mans, was one who had Just been brought In
from his boarding house; his case was consId-
cred desperate.
In sick room-and who has not experien-
ced the agonizing feelings and sufferings of
one there are objects upon which the eye
rests, in those moments when pain permltst the
reason to roam in its mental wanderlngs, and
pazes upon some object, calling up as it
were the dreams of the past, when health and
strength went hand in hand with hope, and the
bright sunshine of the happy future cleaned
before us; there is dreamy luxury IN this,
which can only be realized by those who have
experienced this exercise of mind in the mo-
ment of danger, and who love to dwell upon
it.
= The writer of this, in 1882, during the pre-
valence of as severe an epidemic as ever pre-
vailed in New Orleans, suffered an attack of
yellow fever and believes that his life was spar
ed by his strength of mind, overcoming the
alarm created by the idea Of dying among
strangers, and of disease considered by many
incurable. The imagination does more harm
in cases of sickness than the disease itself.
One of these men to whom particularly al
Jude, the nature of the disease permitted to in
dulge in this ''ftful dream" between life and
death modification had already taken place,
and his pains were lulled. The light of lie
was going out, and the shadowy outline OF tne
grave was before him. His eyes wandered
around the vast room. At this moment the
man opposite him turned-theiI eyes met