Edgefield Junction, Tenn., Sept. 15, 1873
11%Page 126
Edgefield Junction, Tenn., Sept. 15, 1873
By R. K. McCune
[Note.—The following letter was not written for publication. Hoping the writer will excuse the liberty I take, I submit it to the Review, believing it will interest, and touch the sympathies of all who read it. In the prayers of God’s people may the interest of the cause in the South be remembered. E. B. Lane.] Dear Bro. Lane: I have postponed writing to you from time to time, hoping to have something of interest to write, and I can now only write a gloomy letter. About a week after you left us, we were visited by a plague; the doctors, at first, could not agree upon a name for it; but, finally, concluded to call it cholera, which had a run of about four weeks, and made the most distressing time I ever saw. It was the most fatal among the negroes, but spared neither high nor low. Some buried the whole family but perhaps the father, or one other member. One man buried seven, and put up a monument, “All dead but me.” One family was found all dead and dying but an infant which was sucking its dead mother’s breast. And another black family of five were all found lying around over the floor in their filth, dead, with the doors and windows all open. It is said that the mortality was greater than Calcutta ever produced, ranging from ten to twenty per cent of the inhabitants left who remained in the country. We had in this little village five deaths, all blacks but one child. We had a visitation of it though, in almost every family. My wife had a slight attack, and Sr. O., a severe one, but recovered. We are the only family in the whole country that I know of that has not had to have the doctor, while some have had the doctor visiting them about half the time for the last three months. Part of the time, the doctors could not give the people here half the attention they required, especially while one of them was sick. After the cholera abated, the flux set in, and had a prevailing time for several weeks, then chills and fever, congestive chills, and malarious fever, while, now, meningitis is getting quite common. A Mr. G. of this place lost his only son with it, and Mr. P., his second eldest son, with only ten hours’ sickness. It has thus far been as fatal as the cholera. All these diseases have peculiar symptoms not given in books, and ought really to have new names. It is astonishing to see a Christian community wrangling, disputing, and trying to account for these diseases, and what will prevent them. There is no theory any doctor has given but has been disproved by another equally eminent. It is so severe and strange, I fear it is a scourge from God, sent in such a strange way no one can account for it, and should be acknowledged as such. Providence has mercifully spared us, yet we have not been well, or able to do much. In fact, there is nothing doing but what people are obliged to do. I have made seven coffins, which is the principal amount of work I have done since you left us. All the Sabbath-keepers are still holding on to the truth, and all cheerfully take part in our little meetings, which have not failed a single Sabbath through all our troubles, while all other meetings were more or less postponed. One of our members has moved to Murray Co., where I think is an excellent opening for a course of lectures. It has been quite healthy there all summer. We hope you will remember us in your prayers, that we may all live to the honor and glory of God. May you soon return to labor here, bringing a tent. We look for much good to be done. All join in sending love. Edgefield Junction, Tenn., Sept. 15, 1873