Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Bring Out The Dead - The Horror of Diphtheria


THE RIDERS IN THE NIGHT - BRING OUT THE DEAD - THE HOMESTEADER'S DEMISE

MEDICAL ASSISTANCE WAS DAYS AWAY - AND DEATH COULDN'T WAIT

     MAYBE I AM "OLD BEFORE MY TIME," AS SOME OF OUR FAMILY FRIENDS CLAIM. I CAN BUY THAT. HAVING SPENT SO MUCH OF MY TIME RESEARCHING THE PAST, I SUPPOSE IT'S POSSIBLE I HAVE ABSORBED QUITE A BIT OF HISTORY WITHOUT KNOWING IT! I'M NOT UNHAPPY ABOUT THIS. I REALLY FEEL I'VE LEARNED SOMETHING IMPORTANT, ABOUT THE PERILS OF DISCONNECTING FROM THE PAST……BECAUSE IT MISTAKENLY SEEMS IRRELEVANT. I FEEL DIFFERENTLY ABOUT THIS, AND I HAVE A GRAVE CONCERN THIS INCREASING IGNORANCE OF HISTORICAL PRECEDENTS, WILL SNAP BACK ON US ONE DAY, WHEN WE ARE MOST VULNERABLE. WE HAVE SEEN EXAMPLES OF THIS RECENTLY; AND THERE HAVE BEEN HUMBLING CIRCUMSTANCES, CREATED BY THE HAND OF NATURE, THAT HAVE MADE US ALL OF A SUDDEN, WONDER OUT LOUD, WHAT OUR PARENTS AND GRANDPARENTS WOULD HAVE DONE, DEALING WITH A SIMILAR CIRCUMSTANCE OF HARDSHIP.
     THERE SEEM TO BE A LOT OF PEOPLE THESE DAYS, WHO HAVE FORGOTTEN THE PASSED-DOWN STORIES, ABOUT THE INHERENT HARDSHIPS OF RESPECTIVE ERAS IN OUR FAMILY'S PAST. THE JOY AND TRAGEDY AS EXPERIENCED BY OUR ANCESTORS. MORE THAN EVER, I BELIEVE, WE ARE OBSESSED WITH THE RIGORS OF THE PRESENT, AND DRAW VERY LITTLE FROM THE EXPERIENCES OF THE PAST. WHICH OF COURSE, ARE LIFE EXPERIENCES THAT SHOULD MAKE US MORE RESOURCEFUL AND PREPARED. EVEN FOR WHAT WE ONLY PERCEIVE TODAY, AS ANNOYING INCONVENIENCES. YET IF YOU GO BACK INTO YOUR FAMILY TREE, YOU WILL CONNECT WITH A BLOOD-LINE THAT HAD IT VERY MUCH WORSE, THAN EVEN THE MOST TROUBLESOME DAY YOU CAN IMAGINE TODAY. AS AN HISTORIAN, I FIND THIS DISASSOCIATION WITH THE PAST RATHER DISTURBING, BECAUSE IN THAT SAME FAMILY HISTORY, WITH CENTURIES OF EXPERIENCE, THERE ARE LESSONS ABOUT SURVIVAL, AND ADAPTABILITY TO DO SO, THAT WE SUDDENLY FEEL WE DON'T NEED TO KNOW.
     WE ARE NOW BECOMING ISOLATED FROM A MEANS OF COPING WITH HARDSHIP THAT WAS ONCE COMMONPLACE. AS IF WE KNOW IT ALL, IN THIS MODERN TECHNOLOGICAL ERA, IT'S AS IF WE HAVE EVERYTHING WORKED OUT IN ADVANCE. WE CAN HANDLE CRISIS. THERE IS NO STORM BIG ENOUGH. NO EARTHQUAKE VIOLENT ENOUGH. NO FAMINE. NO DROUGHT SERIOUS ENOUGH TO DESTROY CROPS. THERE IS THE FEELING THE PAST WILL NEVER RETURN. SO WHY WORRY ABOUT THE WAY OUR ANCESTORS LIVED THEIR DAILY LIVES. WELL, THIS IS A BIG PROBLEM FOR MODERN SOCIETY. THE RECENT HURRICANE THAT HIT THE EASTERN SEABOARD OF THE UNITED STATES, TOOK THOSE AFFECTED, BACK TO PIONEER DAYS IN A MATTER OF HOURS. IF THEY HAD FOLLOWED SOME PIONEERING ADVISE BEFORE THE STORM, MAYBE THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN LESS HARDSHIP AND DEATH ASSOCIATED, WITH THIS VIOLENT BUT NATURAL TURN OF WEATHER.
     OUR PIONEER COMMUNITY DIDN'T HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF ANYTHING MORE THAN BASIC PROVISIONS, IN ORDER TO SURVIVE THE HARD LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS. THEY HAD LITTLE CHOICE BUT TO PREPARE FOR THE COMING WINTER, EVEN IF IT WAS THE EARLY SPRING. IT WOULD TAKE THE BETTER PART OF A YEAR, TO MAKE SURE THERE WAS A FULL SUPPLY OF FOOD AND WOOD IN TIME FOR THE TURN OF WEATHER IN OCTOBER. AS FOR PROFIT, IT WASN'T NEARLY AS IMPORTANT AS PREPARING FOR WINTER WITH THE RESOURCES AT HAND. ANY PROFIT WAS TURNED BACK INTO THE FARMSTEADS, TO MAKE A MORE COMFORTABLE LIFE FOR THOSE KNOWING FEW COMFORTS IN A SMALL, DRAFTY LOG CABIN CARVED FROM THE MUSKOKA BUSH.
     ONE OF THE GREAT HARDSHIPS ENDURED, OF COURSE, WAS THE DISTANCE FROM MEDICAL ASSISTANCE. IT WAS BAD ENOUGH TO BE A CONSIDERABLE WALK OR WAGON RIDE TO THE NEAREST CHURCH, OR GENERAL STORE, BUT THE LIFE AND DEATH STRUGGLE IN ISOLATION, COST A LOT OF LIVES THAT COULD HAVE BEEN SPARED, HAD THEY BEEN RESIDENTS OF ONE OF THE LARGER SETTLEMENTS…..WHERE A DOCTOR OR TWO HAD SET UP PRACTICE. IN TERMS OF HEALTH, THE HOMESTEADERS WERE CONSTANTLY AT HIGH RISK, BECAUSE OF THE NATURE OF THEIR LIFESTYLE, SHORTAGE OF NUTRITIOUS FOOD, LACK OF MONEY TO PAY FOR A DIVERSE FOOD SUPPLY, AND THE PHYSICAL STRESSES OF THE HOMESTEAD. THERE IS A STORY TOLD BY SUZANNE'S UNCLE, BERT SHEA, IN HIS WELL KNOWN TALES OF PIONEER TIMES, IN THE THREE MILE LAKE AREA OF THE PRESENT TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES, ABOUT AN ELDERLY WOMAN, LEFT ALONE AT HER CABIN, WHO WAS INJURED WHILE SPLITTING WOOD TO KEEP THE HOME FIRE BURNING. A SHARP FRAGMENT OF WOOD FLEW-UP WHEN THE AXE HIT THE LOG, AND HIT HER EYE, EDGE FIRST. THE WOOD SHARD IMBEDDED SO DEEPLY INTO HER EYE SOCKET, THAT SHE COULDN'T PULL IT OUT BY HERSELF. MEDICAL HELP WAS A LONG DISTANCE AWAY, AND SHE HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO WAIT FOR SOMEONE TO COME BY HER CABIN, SO SHE COULD ASK FOR ASSISTANCE. SHE LIVED WITH THAT WOOD SPLINTER IN HER EYE FOR SOME TIME AFTER, BUT THE INFECTION PROVED TOO MUCH FOR THE ELDER SETTLER, WHO EVENTUALLY SUCCUMBED. THERE ARE MANY SIMILAR STORIES ABOUT SICKNESSES THAT HAD TO BE TENDED BY THE SETTLERS THEMSELVES, AS DOCTORS OF COURSE, WERE NOT AS NUMEROUS AS THEY ARE TODAY.

THE SUDDEN ONSET OF A SICKNESS THAT COULD KILL OFF A HOUSEHOLD WITHIN HOURS

     DIPHTHERIA: "AN EPIDEMIC INFLAMMATORY DISEASE OF THE AIR-PASSAGES, AND ESPECIALLY OF THE THROAT, CHARACTERIZED BY THE FORMATION OF A FALSE MEMBRANE." BY ANY OTHER NAME, A KILLER DISEASE THAT SPREAD RAPIDLY UNDER THE RIGHT CONDITIONS.

     Suzanne's grandfather, John Shea, a former clerk in the present Township of Muskoka Lakes, and farm owner in the hamlet of Ufford, on the shore of Three Mile Lake, took it upon himself, to erect a fence around a small previously unmarked multi-plot gravesite, belonging to a family, wiped out by an outbreak of diphtheria, sometime, we believe, in the late 1800's. The Dougherty family, of which "Dougherty Road" was named, in Ufford, (near Windermere), had contracted the deadly disease, at a time when it was ravaging the pioneer communities in this vicinity of Muskoka. From what we can find, of this tragic circumstance, upwards of five family members died within twenty-four hours, and had to be hastily buried in the late hours of the night to avoid spectators, who could also become infected by close proximity. A number of lilacs were planted by neighbors at the gravesite, some time after, and it was how John Shea knew where to find the plots, when he decided to create a fence to mark the family plot as a latent memorial. This came many years after their deaths. Suzanne and I have visited the site numerous times, and it was always the same lilacs, that led us to the spot. The fence has long since deteriorated. It is located only feet from the route of the present Dougherty Road, not far from the present Ufford Community Cemetery.
     "Diphtheria, in the old days, took its course - whole families were wiped out. Burials after midnight by law," wrote family historian, Bert Shea. "The ghastly sound of wagon wheels and horses feet, or the thump of the jumper and the rattle of the bullchair, as slowly the oxen drew the caskets in the dead of night to the place of burial. I will not write more of the terrible procedure, save to say that there are cemeteries in Watt, where there were none present at the midnight burial, save the dim oil lantern…..two figures, one at each side of the grave, shovels in hand, and the good man at the head, conscious of the risk he was taking with his own family, but who, in faith, stood with his parishioners to declare the words of the Master….'I am the resurrection and the life."
     He also notes that fumigations were ordered by doctors to prevent diphtheria outbreaks, including after infectious events had occurred. Diphtheria was an agonizing ailment marked by severe fever, coughing, choking, and sore throat. Having a whole house infected, must have sounded horrible, to the attending doctors, nurses, and preachers, if in fact, they were able to attend, related to proximity from established villages. One can imagine the fury of activity around these affected homesteads, and the worry in the surrounding neighborhood, with rampant fear that they would be the next victims of this most vicious illness, that killed children in front of their helpless parents…..the weakest succumbing first. Then the elderly and parents meeting the same fate, often in the same day. There were survivors. But it depended on the care the victims received.
     Imagine hearing what Mr. Shea reported, on those fateful nights, the eerie sounds of wagon wheels on the hard packed dirt roads, and the twinkle of lamplights on the sides, helping to guide the way through the woods and partly cleared pastures, to the afflicted household, where death was imminent, some family having already succumbed, and been hastily prepared for a quick funeral before sunrise. This was not the work of an author penning a horror story, or a movie script for profit. It was reality at its most unfortunate, and there were many heroes from this period, and one of them was known as the "Tramp," an Anglican missionary of considerable acclaim, and compassion, by the name of Gowan Gillmor. From his Ministry in the Village of Rosseau, and the Diocese of Algoma, he moved his residence to nearby Ullswater, at the time of a smallpocks outbreak, (and circulated similarly during the diphtheria epidemic) and was one of very few who would tend the sick and those near death, medically and spiritually, and of this, he became a Muskoka legend in his time and beyond.
     "Gillmor of Algoma, (written by E. Newton White), is the story of a missionary's life, his struggles, heartaches and joys in those early wilderness areas, along the base of the Canadian Shield, which one Bishop used to describe as 'a land of rock of ages and Christmas trees.' It is the story of a beloved priest who tramped over those rocks and probably even slept under some of those trees, here and there, carving upon them, 'The Tramp'."
     "During the years Gowan Gillmor was at North Bay, the scourge of diphtheria was sweeping the north country. It was then a lethal disease and caused terror in the backwoods communities," notes E. Newton White. "What his son in Canada did, is best pictured in Gowan's own tribute to a predecessor in the Parish of Rosseau; the Rev. A. W.H. Chowne - "when there was a terrible epidemic of diphtheria and scarlet fever, he himself nursed the child patients; with his own hands, he prepared the dead for burial, put them in their coffins, dug their graves, and committed them therein, - in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to Eternal Life."
     "The epidemic diseases did not spare Rosseau, and Gowan took up his self appointed duties again. Smallpox broke out in Ullswater, and he closed up the Rosseau Rectory, to take up residence there to minister to the sick. When diphtheria was rife in Rosseau, he had his parsonage quarantined and spent all his time among the stricken homes; only stopping when, as he said, 'there are no more throats to look down'." Additionally, according to White, there was also a case further north, when, on a bitterly cold winter night, with a storm brewing, he planned to attend a family suffering from diphtheria, more than ten miles away. He was to travel on foot, as he usually did. Before he left, he had secured groceries and medicine for the family. Eleven children were infected. According to Gillmor, "Arrived safely." He nursed the family until all were well.
     "Gowan used to tell Rosseau people what he told many others in his long experience….that only he and death had undisputed entry into the homes where contagion had taken hold; quarantines notwithstanding. Death kept very close vigil while his own presence lent help, hope and consolation. He did not tell them that he often disputed death's entry, and many a time was able to bar the door to him," notes the author / historian.
     There were others throughout our district who defied the deadly disease, to help those in need. It is known that amongst the bravest, were those who tended the burials of the deceased, risking the possibility of carrying the contagion into their own homes. Often there were no doctors attending, and it was family that had to send for help to bury the deceased. This was life and survival on the frontier.
     "I have heard the voices of his loved ones in mourning, and the men of the river in silent groups, standing around, the slow tread of the horses and wheels of the carriages, as they bore him away to the quiet burying ground." From the book written by Bert Shea.
     Thanks so much for joining today's historical blog. It's always good to have you aboard.

No comments: