Obituaries (November 6)

Calamity in Sherburne

Chenango American, March 25, 1858

Sherburne [Chenango Co., NY] is at present the scene of profound gloom and sorrow.  An extraordinary disease has broken out in their midst which baffles the skill of the physicians, and in a few short hours hurries to an untimely grave the robust and the healthy.  The disease, though appearing in no two cases alike, is apparently a variety of fever.  Daniel S. Church, was the first victim.  On the day of his burial, Monday, the 8th inst., Irving Cook, a young man well known to some of our citizens, was taken ill, and in two days, died.  Alvin Shipman, taken on Tuesday, after seventy-eight hours illness, also fell a victim.  On Wednesday, Julia Donohoe, aged 19 died.  She was sick four days.  On Friday, the 19th, Lucius Dow, after forty-eight hours illness, expired.

 

In addition ito the above cases arising from this disease, there are other sources of grief.  Edward R. Merrell, aged 19, died of consumption, on the 8th last.  Charles B. Baker, a young lawyer of much promise, died on the 19th inst. of a chronic disease of the kidneys.  On the same day a son of Chas. Lathrop, aged 18, died of scrofula.

 

There have also been six cases of sudden death, all of them young men, in the neighboring town of Columbus.  This is truly a fearful record, and the citizens of these stricken villages have the entire sympathy of community in their great calamity.

 

Esther (Clyde) Ripley

Chenango Telegraph, August 22, 1860

Died in Cherry Valley [Otsego Co., NY], on Monday, July 30th, Mrs. Esther Ripley, wife of the late Horace Ripley, Esq., aged 82 years. She was the daughter of Col. Clyde, and her life is the history of Cherry Valley.  She was nine months old when the place was sacked by the Indians.  Her mother dreamed for three successive nights that the Indians were upon them. The third morning she looked out and saw them at hand.  She instantly took her child and dog, and hid herself with them in a hollow log.  Here she had great anxiety for fear either the child or the animal should make some noise to betray them, but they remained perfectly still, whilst the Indians prowled around and ransacked the house and premises at pleasure.  When night came she left her retreat, and finding the Indians gone, returned to her house. The daughter lived to see the village rise again; to see the church twice reorganized; and having connected herself with that church, she lived to show through a long life of patient suffering, that power of Christian faith and fortitude which made her ancestors and ours both brave and strong.

 

Our Sarah - by Anna Nevins

Chenango Telegraph, November 7, 1860

Yes, we once had a Sarah, a fair gentle creature--too fair, too fragile to brave earth's rude storms.  Yet she was so young, only sixteen short summers had passed over her head ere she laid down the burden of life and went home.  We loved her much, yet that could not save her.  She was a poetess of rare talent for one so young and oh how proud we were of her and with what pleasure we looked forward to the time when she would take her place amid the poets of our land - But God had other plans than ours, and ours he nipped in the bod.  While we, looking with such pride upon her were making her our idol, consumption, that tell destroyer fastened it deadly fangs upon her. We saw it in the hacking cough, the hectic flush on her usually pale cheek and the strange light in her eye.  Yet still we cherished the fond  hope that she was recovering - that she would soon be with us again - until conviction fastened itself upon us and we knew that she must die.  Yet it was so hard to give her up.  We saw her failing day by day never complaining, although slowly but surely passing from us.  At time one of those deceitful lulls came on and then we thought that she was recovering, and hope whispered bright dreams for the future.  But, alas! it was but a brief respite, and ere long she was called away.  It was a calm still evening, the setting sun threw its golden rays upon the couch where she was lying and formed a halo of light over her head. We gathered around her to receive the farewell kiss.  her low, melodious voice whispered us, "Good bye dear friends, do not weep for me for I am only going home." And must she pass thorough the dark valley alone?  No not alone, for she leaned confidingly upon the arm of her Saviour and sweetly sank to rest.  While we weep for her, we know that our loss is her gain, for she has left a world of care and sorrow and is at rest where we hope to meet her again, never more to part.

 

Chauncey S. Swain

Chenango Telegraph, December 26, 1860

A notice of the death of Mr. Chauncey S. Swain of this village [Norwich, Chenango Co., NY], appears under our obituary head this week.  Mr. Swain had been deaf from childhood in consequence of a disorder in the ear, which was brought on by canker rash, and which caused frequent discharges of matter from the ear. Anxious to have this cured and his hearing restored, Mrs. S., not long since, placed himself under the treatment of a physician who was temporarily stopping in this place (but whose name we have failed to get) and received from him a preparation to put into the ear, which on being applied according to directions, stopped the discharges and drove the disease upwards into the head, causing death in a few days.  There are the particulars, as related to us, and we have no reason to doubt that they are correct. We understand this same practitioner has had a similar case in West Rutland, which resulted also in death.--Mr. Swain leaves a wife and two children.  He was a machinist by trade and was universally respected and esteemed in this community.