[Thomas Waters to his parents]
addressed to Mrs or Capt Waters R.M., Surbiton Hill, Kingston on Thames
Surry, England
Gipsey New York port
Oct 1st (postmark 1846)
My Dear Father and Mother
Do not have the least anxiety about my welfare, I can assure you I am getting on first rate, quite well. I am mate of a craft called the Gipsey with the same Capt I was with before, so you see no blame can be attached to me for our mishap, I am in want of nothing but what I am able to get, do not put yourself to any inconvenience about what I wrote in my former letter, as I can do without it. I am sure you must have plenty of trouble at home. I have no news to write so will fill up this letter with a description of my winter residence, Smallpox Hospital: it was first built to accomodate the Yellow fever, and four acres grave yard around it shews strong evidence of the fatality of the gold colour’d disease: afterwards on the increase of Small pox it was used for that purpose, and for the last 10 or 12 years has not wanted tenants, it is kept by a Dutchman and his wife who are sole managers, and who are so used to the sufferings of the human kind, that they think nothing of increasing them by their usage and neglect: a high hoard fence surrounds the whole, in walking through the grave yard where no stone tells the passing stranger who lies beneath, may be seen large square places sunk below the level: it is where the dead were thrown in by cartloads, sprinkle a few skull and other bones with a scatering of all kinds of clothing with here and there a black burnt spot where the clothes of those affected have been burnt, and you will have a view, such as I had of the Hospital yard, not a very pleasant sight to the sick. I forgot the black coach and hearse with some large spare coffins made to suit all sizes six feet long, I did not see any the size of me but the Dutchman said a small man would go in a large coffin. They keep a cow in the grave yard, very sick when I was there, the milk of which goes to the establishment. The lower part of the Hospital is used by the aforesaid Dutchman and wife, the middle part by the whites, and the upper part by the blacks, who are held in slavery here, the blacks are used most shamefully, we could hear them screaching in the dead room, which was the next room over ours where those who are not likely to recover are shut up to die, no fire or bed in fact with nothing “complete murder” but they are considered dogs in this country: the student visited us twice while I was there. I was not very sick myself in comparison with the others, and I had a row the second day with the Dutchman, and threatened to report him. Our room was large and cold snow was on the ground, not a bit of fire would the Dutchman light, except when he expected the visit from Mr Physic, he told me he did not care for me, but I saw that he did, for after that we always had a fire. He never gave me any occasion to growl after that for he and his wife were quite kind to me. Brandy is very useful in the disease, at least it was ordered by Mr P. to some and two or three times a day, he would bring in a good horn, and after a little time when I could walk he got me a pipe and tobacco, things not used in the hospital, hut very acceptable to me: “he was soft soaping me”; I could go into the kitchen when I liked and all over the hospital so that I was as comfortable as could be, they had an easy plan to get the dead bodies from the top rooms to the door below, the Dutchman would drag the empty coffin up the staircase put the dead in and then give it a shove and down it with its cargo would come, sometimes it would fetch up at the bottom with such a jerk that the top would burst off and pitch the body out. It would not do for me to describe the filth and smell, but I know I have eat more than a peck of dirt besides what I swallowed without eating so my allowance of that article is done for.
I will now finish my yarn, as I have three other letters under weigh: hoping Papa and Mama sisters and brothers uncles and aunts and every body in this world are quite well as I am at present
I remain
Your affectionate son Thomas
I received your letter No 1. write quick about John to Halifax, as I do not know how long my next voyage may be, and after the end of Nov write to New York as before