Newspaper Articles

Maximilian Hertweck and the Yellow Fever Epidemic of 1878 in Hickman, Fulton County, Kentucky

While looking through the photographs taken at Hickman Cemetery, in the city of Hickman, Fulton County, Kentucky, I came across two photos of the gravestone of Maximilian Hertweck.  Maximilian was born October 12, 1833, and died September 18, 1878, aged 44 years, 11 months and 6 days. 

Maximilian Hertweck, born October 12, 1833, died September 18, 1878, aged 44 years, 11 months and 6 days. Hickman Cemetery, Hickman, Fulton County, Kentucky.

His gravestone is beautiful, the clasped hands of husband and wife in the center of a wreath of flowers – roses and what looks like calla lilies, in addition to the funeral drapery above is very typical of the time period.

But then we look to the side and see that the entire grave is surrounded by stone, with his initials carved in the back section.  Evidently a man much loved – and one that left this earth too soon.

Yellow Fever Epidemic – August-November 1878 – 462 cases, 150 deaths. Dr. Luke Blackburn, Governor of Kentucky, 1879-1883, together with local and visiting doctors, rendered heroic services.

In the death records of Fulton County, we find that Maximilian Hertweck died September 29, 1878, (this is not the date on his gravestone, nor in the list of deaths in the newspaper below) of yellow fever, aged 45, born in Germany, a wagon maker.  Then I noticed that most of the 1878 deaths listed on this page were caused by yellow fever.  Out of 55 deaths, 47 were from yellow fever.  I realized this was not a single case but an epidemic.  And this was but one page of deaths from 1878.

Yellow fever is transmitted to humans by bites of infected mosquitoes.  This was not known in 1878.  Symptoms of yellow fever are fever, headache, muscle aches, nausea and vomiting, yellow skin and eyes (jaundice, hence the name), irregular heartbeats, delirium. 

The Yellow Fever Epidemic of 1878, the worst of the epidemics of this disease in the United States, began in New Orleans and spread up the Mississippi River and inland.  There were 120,000 cases recorded and approximately 13,000 to 20,000 deaths.  The small town of Hickman in Fulton County is one small piece of the story, but very well told in the following article.

The Hickman Courier, the local town paper, of November 8, 1878, gives the total number of deaths due to yellow fever as 153.  In addition to Maximilian’s death, his mother, Martha Hertweck, died September 12.

The print of this paper is faint, I have tried to type a correct account given.

The Hickman Courier, Hickman, Fulton County, Kentucky

Friday, November 8, 1878

The Epidemic

Total Number of Deaths 153

The Tribulations of a Lone Suffering and Grateful People

With feelings of thanks and gratitude to Almighty God for preservation and hearts bleeding at the scene of desolated homes, the citizens of Hickman who have been spared are one by one returning to resume their wanted avocations.  The appalling clouds of death which so lately hovered over our community yet linger in the horizon, and the bronzed monster yet shows its poisoned fangs here and there reluctant to loosen its grasp upon a people upon whom it has fed for two months, rioting in suffering, misery, desolation and death.  Some return to homes which have been shrouded in death, and all return to homes draped in sorrow and mourning.  The scourge has been fearful, terrible, appalling and numbers among its victims some of our bravest, purest and best citizens.  Oh, how many have fallen.  How many homes that two months ago were laughing in the contentment of happy innocence, father, mother, sister, brother – all there – all around the family table  the rose of health blooming in each cheek and the buoyancy of hope and expectation gladdening every heart – not a dream or expectation that the angel of death was even then lurking in their midst, toying with their joy as they walked side by side through the valley and under the shadow of his draped and merciless wings.  Their hearts are now torn and bleeding.  Here parents weep for an only child; there a widow mourns her husband, and her children piteously cry for their father; and yonder helpless orphans grieve for both father and mother; and yet again the cry of anguish is heard because the mother is gone forever; and in several instances, the insatiate monster claimed the whole family as its victims.  Not a family that remained in the stricken town escaped its remorseless touch, and the only evidence of a leniency is in the tottering and emaciated forms of the convalescents who were spared, and their staggering tread is but a mournful measure to the sad and horror of the rapacious monster.

The First Case

Charlie Hendricks, a little German boy about 10 years of age, was the first case.  He was taken August 12th and died on the 16th.  He peddled apples to passengers on steamboats and thereupon prevailed with many that he contracted the disease while passing on some steamer, though no certain knowledge exists that he had been on any for some weeks.  His little sister, Louisa, died the following day, the 17th, affected precisely similarly, each having the black vomit and symptoms exactly as characterized and the subsequent cases during the epidemic.  No deaths occurred from the 17th to the 28th, though a number of cases occurred in the meantime, which were supposed to be cases of bilious fever.  On the 28th Edward Mangel died, on the 29th Mrs. John Witting, and on the 30th little Jimmie Young and new cases were occurring thick and fast, and the worst fears of the people began to be realized.  About this date the doctors began to pronounce it yellow fever and, on the Sunday, and Monday following the terrible epidemic may be said to have been fairly inaugurated and acknowledged.  The following is a correct list of the dead, which we obtain from Mr. Ed. Case, who had the fever early and kept a daily record during the epidemic:

List of the Dead

Aug. 16 – Charlie Hendricks

Aug. 17 – Louisa Hendricks

Aug 28 – Edward Mangel

Aug. 29 – Mrs. John Witting

Aug. 30 – Jimmie Young

Sep. 1 – Gus Davis, Mac Heatherly

Sep. 2 – W. W. Hancock

Sep. 3 – W. T. Buckner, Jr., F. Gibbs, Rallie Gieeson, Mrs. Hendricks, Mrs. F. Segrist, Lula Davis, Willie Coffee

Sep. 4 – N. P. Harness, William Reasoner

Sep. 5 – L. T. Wooten, Geo. W. Puckett, John Simones, Mrs. Ed. Mangel, F. Funk

Sep. 6 – Mrs. W. H. Gardner, A. D. Kingman, Jr., Miss Annie Hendricks

Sep. 7 – Geo. Dunevant, William (Betts) McCain

Sep. 8 – Steven Meyer, Mrs. Holeman

Sep. 9 – David F. Bright, Mrs. Frank Miller

Sep. 11 – Ben Ashworth, John Millet, B. W. Fortune

Sep. 12 – Miss Enricka Sohm, Mrs. M. Hertweck

Sep. 13 – Otto Segrist, Mrs. Ab. Young, Casper Sohm, Dr. C. Blanton

Sep. 14 – Frank Segrist, Henry Sames, Miss Irene Amberg, Willie Sohm, T. D. Barnes, N. L. Nelson

Sep. 15 – O. P. Smith, William Barnes, Edgar Bayliss, Mrs. Cora Halyburton and son, Mrs. N. L. Nelson, Miss Mary Karcher, daughter of Wm. Parham

Sep. 16 – T. C. Dozier, R. D. Holt, F. Samse, Frank Miller, R. I. Reid, Jr., W. A. Brevarl, Fred Stoner, Dr. H. C. Catlett, Ab. Young

Sep. 17 – Charlie Sams, John Shoemaker, Miss Eliza Whal, Miss Louisa Eckert, Mrs. Nancy Young, Phil Balizer, Louis Monroe

Sep. 18 – Dr. R. C. Prather, Max Hertweck, Herman Bearger

Sep. 19 – Andy Buncho

Sep. 20 – Miss Eileen Young, John Hendricks, James C. Thomas

Sep. 21 – William Frenz, M. Neal

Sep. 22 – T. M. Jones, Joe Miller, John Witting’s son

Sep. 23 – Miss Annie Mrs. E. Scharfe, Mrs. Lacy

Sep. 24 – Josephine Karcher

Sep. 25 – Miss Vickie Ambert, Joseph Amberg, Michael O’Neal

Sep. 26 – Bobbie Methany, James McConnell, R. O. Lattrell

Sep. 27 – Dr. James W. Faris, Miss Louisa Person, Jennie Bondurant, Dr. Hugh L. Prather

Sep. 29 – Mrs. Stephens

Sep. 30 – Charlie Mason, Mrs. J. J. C. Bondurant

Oct. 1 – T. J. Lane, Dr. J. L. Cook, John G. Bearger

Oct. 2 – Geo. Rouhac, T. C. Buck, Geo. B. Prather, Thad. W. Thomas, Robbie Glaser

Oct. 3 – Ida Samge

Oct. 5 – Charlies Couhs, Ed M. Pollard

Oct. 6 – Tom Sherron, daughter of John Luttrell

Oct. 8 – Mrs. W. D. Corbett, Maggie Overton

Oct. 9 – Eva Karcher

Oct. 10 – Mrs. John Barry, Mrs. F. Samge, Joseph Glaser, E. H. Kesterson (convict)

Oct. 11 – Mrs. J. G. Bearger, Mrs. Kate Stoner, Cappie Luttrell, Dr. W. D. Corbett

Oct. 13 – Henry Wilburn, John Greenup, Frankfort, KY.

Oct. 14 – Johnnie Sohm

Oct. 18 – Sallie Thomas, Dr. J. M. Alexander

Oct. 23 – Joe Black, A. S. Anderson, Tom Farris

Oct. 24 – Mrs. Mary E. Thomas

Oct. 25 – Lotta Cole

Oct. 30 – Belie Alexander

Nov. 3 – Mrs. Vandever

Nov. 6 – Mrs. James A. Overton

List of Colored

Joe Pullum, Wiley Bennett, Dick Yancy, Pauline Upshaw, child of Harrison Adkins, Bob Dodds, son of Dick Bennett, Steve Redick, Emily Watson, Phil. Matison, Louis Woodson, son of A. Devine, Henry Landrum, Nelson Titus, Henry Maddox, Eliza Freeman, Tom Cross, wife of Phil. Matison.

This sad list of numbers from the flower of our community, some of our best businessmen and some of the truest and noblest in all the walks of life.  Their loss is irreparable, and their good names will be cherished by their spared fellow citizens as long as time pulses a sad memory.  Others may assume their places – and the busy throngs on the streets may soon know other faces – but the hearts and affections of this community will remain knitted around the memory of these dead until time shall be no more.

When the epidemic developed into an appalling reality and the bravest of brave men – men who had never quailed on hard fought battlefields – were not ashamed to confess themselves cowards before the fearful scourge and were fleeing anywhere and anyway for protection – the following noble names organized themselves into a

Relief Committee:

Dr. A. A. Farris, President

Wm. T. Frenz, Treasurer

J. A. Overton

James Warner

Charles Hackett

Thad W. Thomas

Thomas M. Jones

N. L. Nelson

These noble names should remain enshrined in all our hearts with every memory that speaks of gratitude, love, honor and respect.  Four of them fell at their post of duty, Frenz, Thomas Jones and Nelson; three others, Farris, Hackett and Warner, were stricken down but recovered, while our noble-hearted friend, James A. Overton, was the only member of the original committee which passed through the terrible conflict unscathed.  Indeed, he was the only white man who remained in town day and night, constantly at work, who escaped.  A large majority of the other noble, bravehearted friends who were at work sought protection in the pure air of the country at night, but he alone stood at his post throughout the whole term day and night, unscathed.  There were others who stood equally as true and steady, but they were stricken with the fever or fell in the icy hands of death.  Mr. Wm. Frenz, a true and gentlemanly a young man as ever sacrificed his life for humanity – with no immediate ties binding him to remain – did remain at his post until death claimed him as his own, which lamentable event occurred the 21st of September.  Thad. W. Thomas, a printer, connected with the Hickman Courier for 19 years – a faithful, true and honest man – died at the post of duty.  He remained at work in the commissary department until 5 o’clock on the evening of October 1st and at 1 o’clock on the evening of the 2d, the next day, he was dead.  His grown son had preceded him the 20th of September and was followed by a grown daughter on the 18th of October and his wife on the 24th.  Poor Thad, it was his pride in life to say that when he died, he only wanted as inscription, ‘Here lies an honest man,’ to mark his resting place.  So did he live, and his death proved his honest merit.  Mr. Nelson, of the committee, a conscientious, Christian gentleman, and a distinguished Mason, died on the 14th of September; and Mr. Jones, a good man, active in all benevolent institutions, followed on the 22nd.

Mr. Frenz, the treasurer of the committee, having been stricken about the 14th September.

Hon. Henry A. Tyler, who had been for weeks prostrate on his sick bed and who had retired to his brother’s farm, nine miles in the county (his sickness has since been pronounced yellow fever) gallantly volunteered to take Mr. Frenz’s place.  He did so and came to town almost daily for several weeks while the epidemic was at its highest pitch.  In this noble work as all things else that he undertakes, he entered his whole soul, and not only discharged his duty on the committee, he, personally and daily visited the home of the sick to see to their needs and wants.  The recital of some of the former’s actions sounds like the reading of a heroic poem.  They used to account for his courage during the war by saying that he ‘was so deaf he couldn’t hear the bullets whistle’ and hence didn’t know the danger.  In this epidemic he proved that he had a heart that was quick to hear and answer the cries of distress and suffering that came from the ever-parched lips of his people.  The Commercial Hotel was used as the principal hospital, and it became so infected that it staggered the truest and noblest of the physicians to enter its death dwelling doors.  At this juncture it was determined to remove the sick from this hospital and scatter them to points where the air was not reeking with such poison.  Few could be found to enter, physicians recoiled, and nurses fled.  Tyler blanched and trembled, but he entered, and once in, passed to the third floor and carried patients wrapped in blankets and burning with fever, in his arms to his carriage, and thence to purer quarters.  Too much honor cannot be given.

Nor can too much honor be awarded James Warner and Charles Hacker, for their services on the relief committee, and their superintendence of the police force during the epidemic.  They did noble work, and their people will ever appreciate them for it.

As a part in fact of the committee, and who deserve alike the lasting gratitude of the people, for their noble efforts in the cause of humanity, the names of R. T. Tyler, Jeff Alexander, M. D. Johnson, P. A. Dulin, Jeff Rogers, J. Dodds and others will ever shine bright in the hearts and affections of all.  In fact, so many of our county men, and those of our neighboring county of Hickman, were actively engaged in getting up provisions and doing any and other good work, that it seems almost wrong to mention any name unless all were printed.  Hundreds of hospitable homes were thrown open to flying refugees, sometimes without money and price, and always when received at all they were treated with true sympathy and genuine generosity.  The sad, sad history of this most terrible epidemic in all of memories, bitter recollections, can never treasure but one bright page and that will be devoted to the nobility of soul developed by the fearful occasion.

Those of us who knew the men – their worth – their goodness – their nobility – can scarcely command our emotions to speak or write of that noble band of home physicians who yielded their lives in the effort to save the lives of others.  No words, no tribute, no tears, nothing in human power can express a proper gratitude and condolence.

The first to fall was the modest, gifted, much loved Dr. Carter Blanton.  He was in all respects a true gentleman, as modest and diffident as a woman, sincerely sympathetic, kindhearted and true.  He had for many years determined to quit the practice of medicine at the age of fifty, and at the beginning of the epidemic lacked only a month or two of having attained that long fixed and anxiously awaited age.  Stouter hearts might have waived such brief time and shirked the danger which his medical ability early detected, but prompted by the highest type of courage, a true sense of duty, he remained and died at his post, on the 13th of September.

The next to fall was the benevolent and venerable Dr. Henry C. Catlett.  A man who had nearly attained his three score years and ten, and who was always full of kind words, sympathy and encouragement for one and all, rich or poor, high or low, or whatever condition of life.  He was not only a physician but a father in the sick room.  He was possessed of ample fortune and might have retired from the arduous duties of his profession and passed his declining years in ease and contentment; but no doubt he died as he would have preferred to die – in his profession at the post.

The next to fall was the young, talented and promising young physician Dr. R. C. Prather, Jr.  He loved his profession and died one of its noblest and truest martyrs.  Night and day he went, doing all the good in his power, until he himself was prostrated by the fatal poison.  These people will ever treasure his memory with pride.  He died September 18th.

Perhaps the noblest death in the dread record of these horrific times was that of Dr. James W. Farris.  He was in Missouri – out of the reach of danger.  His brother, A. A. Farris, was sick – broken down.  He left safety and came to volunteer into the midst of death to take his stricken brother’s place.  He appealed to Dr. B? and others to compel his brother to leave – pointing to the fact that his brother was already sick and that he had a wife and children to suffer his death, while “I have none; no one dependent upon me if I fall, it was as the falling of a drop of water in a grand and mighty river – once lost and soon forgotten.”  He stood at his post about two weeks when the fatal fangs of the fiery dragon snapped his young life.  To use the words of this noble young man he “had no one depending on him” but the hearts of all who love great and noble will never cease to pay tribute to the memory of his name.

The next to fall was Dr. Hugh L. Prather.  Located in Missouri in a lucrative practice – and an invalid himself, he heard the cry of anguish in his native county and hastened to the bedside of his sick brother.  He stayed with him until his own veins had absorbed the lethal poison, and when he returned home, he returned only to die.  Hugh Prather was a noble young man, bright and talented – with a useful life before him.  We call him a home physician because his name and that of Dr. Farris is held in the hearts of these people with too much pride and respect, to now acknowledge that any other place was their home.  These young men had left here, and were practicing their profession across the river, but our people always regarded them as home people and they no doubt always regarded this as their real home.  May God’s mercies be with them.

The next was the old veteran Dr. W. D. Corbett, a man always remarkable for nerve and courage.  He faltered – but not for his own personal safety – but at the seeming powerlessness of medical knowledge to do anything to counteract the dreadful scourge.  For six weeks of the pestilence, when all the home physicians were dead or down, he battled in the cause of humanity.  He did his duty nobly; but as the pestilence began to show some signs of loosening its grasp some faint glimmer that the end was approaching, and that he might be numbered among the spared, the hydra poison infested his blood, and he sank to his long rest on the 11th of October.  His funeral cortege consisted of Dr. Luke P. Blackburn and Dr. John Marshall Alexander; two as noble heroes as were ever warmed by human hearts.  It was the request of Dr. Corbett that the Episcopal service should be read at his grave.  Drs. Blackburn and Alexander, equal to any noble duty, discharged the solemn wish of their dead comrade.  There, in that lonely, desolate cemetery, with more than a hundred new made graves shallowing the sacred solemnity of the grief burdened scene, these two old men knelt on the fresh earth, with no witnesses but their God and some colored grave diggers, and Dr. Blackburn read slowly and solemnly every word of that impressive burial service.  Oh, what a picture for the painter!  These two old heroes bowed by the grave of a brother who had met danger and death in the discharge of duty, the air of desolation and despair marked on almost everything except the bright hope of Him to whom they knelt, the noble Alexander, even as he knelt there, nursing the death chalice in his own veins.  The one nor the other knowing but that a few hours might number them among the silent sepulchers whose new made graves were spread around and about them.  How grand!  How noble!  What a reverent scene!

One week from the burial of Dr. Corbett, the brave, fearless Dr. John Marshall Alexander was laid in his silent grave, the victim of the same disease.  A nobler old Roman ever surrendered life.  He was a man to take all in all, that had few equals.  He prized his own life only as a power of doing good to others, and during a life of 59 years, with which Heaven blessed him, he would at any time have sacrificed his existence rather than shrink from a manifest duty.  His was undaunted courage interwoven with a whole name of virtues.  The name of ‘Alexander’ always honorable and worthy – will henceforth be an idol them because of this good man’s deeds and death.

The Physicians From Abroad

Scarcely had the wires flashed the dread instance of the existence of the pestilence at Hickman, than the noble old

Dr. Luke P. Blackburn

was back to a suffering and terrified people.  “I am at your service.”  “Anything I can do for my suffering fellow beings I will do.”  For weeks and weeks, he battled the scourge.  The hero of 18 epidemics, he pronounced the disease at Hickman the most malignant and treacherous form in all his experience.  Into the hovel of the Negro, the cabin of the poor, the mansion of the rich, he went to all, like a ministering angel, to alleviate the sufferings and lighten the burdens of accumulated woes and affliction.  The universal love and gratitude in the hearts of the people knows no expression, no limit, no bounds, but exhausts itself in the highest feelings of love and prayer for heaven to shower blessings upon the old man’s head.

Dr. Blackburn brought with him to Hickman, a man, a doctor, a stranger, a Northern man, a “Yankee” if you like, who embodied more of honor, courage, goodness, benevolence, brotherly love and all the elements that go to make up a noble man than we had ever accorded to actual humanity.  We mean

Dr. J. D. Leslie

of Lincoln, Nebraska.  He is a man that humanity should be proud of.  Among all the noble band of hero physicians – who risked life for life – if there is one who occupies a higher niche in the gratitude of convalescents – that one is J. D. Leslie.  He had charge of the Commercial Hospital – where the reeking death poison was concentrated like a heavy dew – and the bravest trembled to enter its death dealing doors.  Night and day he went through this hospital and the facts show as fair a percentage of recoveries under his treatment from this dreaded hospital as elsewhere.  If he knew fear no mortal eye could ever detect.  Of the kindest, tenderest, most sympathetic nature and manner, he yet confessed that the dread dangers wrapped him in a strange fascination – that he could not if he would leave the fatal field.  What a strangely noble nature!  An invincible courage, clothed in the love and kindness, and tenderness of a brother.

When death had claimed in its icy embrace so many much-loved physicians the cry for doctors again went out, and in response Dr. Gober of Louisville, and the ill-fated Dr. Cook of Henderson, came in their mission of mercy and love right in the midst of the raging tempest of death.  In only a few days service, the noble

Dr. J. L. Cook

fell – a martyr upon the altar of common brotherhood of man.  He came to our rescue when the very clouds were dripping with poison, and death seemed to be written between the stars as they peeped down on agonized homes.  He died in the effort to save the lives of our people.  The prayers of principal suffering, whom he gave his life trying to save, will rise to the throne on high for this noble martyr.  His name shall be honored and revered as long as the world has afflictions or humanity woes.  Our people mingle their sorrow with the anguish of the bereaved family of the martyred hero.  He was ‘faithful unto death’ and his memory will be on the roll of honor.

In this fearful roar when the compassion of heaven seemed closed, and the Death Angel hesitated only to aim his shaft at the shining light of his comrades,

Dr. Gober of Louisville

stood firm and steady in his holy work.  In the darkest hours of suffering and sorrow he continued in his faithful effort to save others until his own veins and drank the poison and for weeks he was prostrate with the fearful tortures of this dreadful fever; but a merciful God snatched him from the very portals of death.  He has gone to his home in Louisville but as the fatal poison yet lurks in his system and that his feeble step yet attest the fearful struggle through which he passed.  God bless him is the prayer of these people.  It is said he contemplates locating at Hickman, and if he should, a people’s gratitude, now bathed in tears and anguish, will welcome him to their homes.

Dr. A. A. Farris

He was in from the beginning and nay, except a brief respite for the sickness and the almost compulsory pleading of his brother physicians, demanding of him to take some rest.  No man has done his duty more nobly or deserves higher consideration.  He is the truest of the true.  Long may he live to enjoy the unbounded honor and respect in which his name people hold him.

Among the

Noble Citizens

who fell, the name of Thomas C. Buck, druggist, will ever be held in the holiest respect.  He literally died at his post.  For days after he knew himself infested, he stood in his store serving the afflicted.  From the beginning he believed he would take the fever – when he shall take it that he would die.  With this belief he still stayed at his post.  When attacked the physicians pronounced it a mild case, but his already overtaxed and feeble body had no resistive power, and so he died – a noble self-sacrifice to his home people.  Blessed be his honored memory.

Another noble victim was

George B. Prather

Mayor of Hickman County, Attorney, and Master Commissioner.  His young manhood was full of promise.  He felt that his duty was to assist a people who had so often honored and trusted him and so he came backwards and forth to town to discharge his duty, until the raging tempest swept him before us, devastating, and his proud young soul passed to his maker.  Peace to his ashes.  “Noble friend may be inscribed over the tomb of George, Dick and Hugh Prather.

As an example of pure

Christian Heroism

the name and actions of William Young challenge the admiration of the good and worthy.  Modest, quiet and unpretentious, yet with no ties to bind him, that he remained is evidence of nobleness through the epidemic.  There are convalescents now who bypass his honor.  Stricken with fever himself, as no sooner had he recuperated than he entered the sick rooms again as nurse.  Never for one day or night did he seek rest or refuge in country air, but with a nobleness inspired from on high, he gave his whole time in nursing his stricken townsmen.  He did a noble part.

Deserving honorable mention, also, was

Thomas Slover

A comparative stranger, he came in the midst of the pestilence to serve as express agent, and while here entered bravely into the noble duty of nursing the sick.  He was stricken with fever, but happily recovered.

A sad, sad example was that of

Edward Pollard

a stranger who came from his distant Northern home to act as graph operator,  he was a young man – just entering manhood – but his manhood, with such carnage, was rare to have ripened into full honors.

The Colored People

of Hickman bore themselves with generally conceded praise, and in many instances deserve the highest thanks of the whites.  The police affairs of the city during the epidemic devolved almost exclusively upon them and they discharged them well and faithfully.  Besides policing, many of them made efficient nurses.  The white people will ever properly appreciate their good conduct.  Those on duty acted well and their actions will not be forgotten.

Corporation With A Soul

The service and liberality of the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad, in running a train nearly every day, bringing provisions and medicines, which a sympathizing world was contributing to this locality, speaks in exalted terms of the management of that corporation.  Superintendent Thomas never refused a request, and nearly always anticipated the wants of our suffering.  He is certainly a kind, generous Christian gentleman.

Sympathy of the Outside World

From the first cry of want the generous donations from the outside world began to pour in, and never ceased until our Relief Committee announced their necessities supplied.  Brave hearted Louisville telegraphed: “Don’t let your people want for anything – call on us and it shall be supplied.”  The cities, towns, and hamlets of the whole country caught the sentiment and responded nobly.  Our Citizen Relief committee received donations in money, provisions, medicines and supplies, cannot be accurately calculated, but it was more than ample, equal to every want.  The fast outpouring of sympathy challenges the admiration of the world.  Gratitude knows no expression of thanks for such grand beneficence.  The committee yet has some funds on hand, but on what amount we are not advised.  There will be quite a number of  

Helpless Families

to care for this winter, which will soon exhaust their funds but tax largely besides the generosity of our home people.  We doubt not our people will prove equal to the holy duty of caring to these helpless ones.

Our people having

Experienced Yellow Fever

Have as little knowledge now as to its cause, origin or propagation, as before the epidemic.  Whether it was brought here, or originated here is an unsolved question.  One thing is certain that the month immediately preceding its outbreak, Hickman was remarkably healthy.  It gave no warning of its approach by any local sickness. 

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