The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1847-04-08

8 week In another CABIN we discovered
s. mailer by the small light of his fire, working
k in space not three feet square. He too hat
d a large family, half of whom were down witt
+ the fever; and he could earn but two shil
4 lings week. About the middle of this filthy
} lane we came to the ruin of hovel which
: had fallen during the night and killed mar
t. who had taken shelter in it with his wife anC
: child He had come in from the country
and ready to perish with cold and hunger
had entered this falling house Of clay. He
was warned Of his danger, but answered that
die he must unless he found a shelter before
morning. He had kindled a small fire with
some straw and bits of turf, and was crouch
ing over it, when the whole roof and gable
end of earth and stones came down upon him
and his child, and crushed him to death over
the slow fire. The child had been pulled out
alive, and carried to the workhouse but the
father was still lying there upon the dung
heap Of the fallen roof, slightly covered with
a piece of canvass. On lifting this a humiliat-
ing spectacle presented itself What rags the
poor man had upon him when buried be-
meath the falling roof were mostly torn from
his body in the last faint struggle for life his
neck and shoulder and right arm were burnt
to cinder. There he lay in the ruin, like
the carcase of brute beast thrown upon the
dunghill. AS we continued our walk along
this filthy lane, half naked women and chill
dren would come out of their cabins, apparent
ly in the last stage Of the fever, to beg for
food " for the honor of God" As they stood
upon the wet ground, we could almost see it
smoke beneath their bare feet, burning with
the fever. We entered the grave yard, in
the midst of which was a small watch-house.
This miserable shed had served as a grave
whore the dying could bury themselves 1t
was seven feet long and six in breadth 1t
was already walled round on the outside with
an embankment Of graves half way to the
caves. The aperture Of this horrible den of
death would scarcely admit the entrance of a
common sized person. And into this noisome
scpulchre, living men, women and children
went down to die; to pillow upon the rotten
straw, the grave clothes vacated by preceding
Victims and fostering with their fever. Here
they lay as closely to each other as if crowd
ed side by side on the bottom of one grave
Six persons had been found in this fetid sep
ulchre at one time, and with one only able to
crawl to the door and to ask for water. Re-
moving board from the entrance of this
black hole of pestience, we found it crammed
with wan victims of famine, ready and will
ing to perish. A quiet, listless despair broods
over the population, and cradles men for the
grave.
Returned from this painful walk, nearly wet
through and sad at the thought that l could
not administer any relief to my perishing fell
low beings. Spent this evening in writing
letters to England.
iS1iJ6ereen, Feb. 81. DR.. Dono-
Io,1 y M o,NI 1,1 10
gether to visit a lane of novels on the oppo-
this little mud-city of the dead and dying was
day. Here human beings and their clayey |
gether into the earth / can find no language
nor illustration sufficiently impressive to por-
tray the spectacle to an American reader
of black filth into which it fell like ink drops
have not read of the scene exhibited on the |
by the surgeon. The cries of the wounded
and dying for help, have been described by !
many graphic pens The agonizing eutreaty /
to our minds with painful distinct
llCoS' L Gall DACll INC SCCIlC VIC Nllllt SSCI III
this low lane of famine and pestilence, TO moth
ing of greater family resemblance, than that
of the battle field, when the hostile armies |
have retired, leaving one-third of their num-
Der bleeding upon the ground AS soon as
it was filled with miserable beings, haggard,
some far gone in the consumption of the fam
r,,,o I'll ,r,,NIor;rrr lin, tbn bor
or of God" to 90 in and see "my MOTHER"
" my father" "my wife" "my boy" " who is
very bad your honor" And then interpreted
still would be raised for bread. In every
dead. In one Of these straw rooted burrows
and five more were lying upon the fctid, pes
to the grave had been consumed by the vast
of these most inhuman habitations was there
be found nor fuel to cook food, nor any thing
bed, unless it were thin layer
of filthy straw in one corner, upon which the
sick persons lay, partly covered with some
ragged garment. There being no window,
nor aperture 10 duilllJ INC llSHC, Ill IncSG
wretched cabins, except the door, we found
ourselves often in almost total darkness for
the first moment of our entrance But a
faint glimmering of handful of burning
straw in one end, would soon reveal to us the
images of wan-laced children group.
ed together, with their large, plaintve, still
eyes, looking out at us, like the sick young of
wild beasts in their dens. Then the groans,
and the choked, incohcrent entreaties for
help, of some man or woman wasting away
with the sickness, in some corner of the cab
in, would apprise us of the number and con-
dition of the family. The wife, mother or
child would frequently light wisp of straw;
and hold over the face of the sick person, dis
covering to us the sooty features of some
creature in the last stage of the fe-
.