Fever, 1793 Visions of America Quotes

My city, Philadelphia, was wide awake. My heart beat faster and my head cleared. Below the window, High Street teemed with horsemen, carriages, and carts. I could hear Mrs. Henning gossiping on her front stoop and dogs barking at a pig running loose in the street. (1.25)

By midafternoon the front room of the coffeehouse was thick with customers, pipe smoke, and loud arguments. A ship's captain finished telling a yarn, and the windowpanes rattled with laughter. Mother poured him a cup of coffee with a steady hand. (4.1)

The market stalls stretched for three blocks in the center of the street. West Indian women stood by their pepperpot kettles stirring fragrant stews, while the hot corn girls walked up and down the street. The distant call of the charcoal man's horn sounded at the far end of the market. Chickens clucked and geese honked, customers argued about the price of pears, and children ran everywhere. (5.35)

"They've taken over Rickett's Circus building on Twelfth Street to house the poor," said Mr. Brown.

"Isn't that why we have an almshouse?" asked Grandfather.

"The almshouse is closed. They want to protect their residents from the disease. So the fever victims lie on the floor of Rickett's with little water and no care. Once a day they remove the bodies for burial. A neighbor threatened to burn the place down if the sick are not removed," explained Mr. Carris." (8.44-8.47)

"Myself, I straddle a fence. One foot stays here in Philadelphia. The other foot is in the country. We know the air there is pure and the people safer. I say safer, mind, not safe. There are reports of fever in Bucks County and Delaware." (8.63)

The man hoeing a field of potatoes took one look at me and ran off. I followed him to a farmhouse, but the door was locked.

"Go away!" shouted a voice inside. "We have children in here. We can't help you if you have the fever."

What was wrong with the world? Would I next see birds flying backwards, or cows crocheting doilies? I walked on, stopping now and then to cough or rest my legs. (13.51-13.53)

Mrs. Bowles was a straight-backed woman dressed in Quaker gray. She was older than Mother, with kind eyes and laughter lines that curled around the sides of her mouth. As we drove away from the hospital, she picked up the smallest crying child and sat him in her lap. The child's sobs kept time with the rhythm of the rose hooves on the road. He wiped his nose on the front of her dress and snuggled closer in her arms. (16.7)

"It is good you have each other," said Mrs. Bowles in the same placid voice. "But you should not leave your house once you arrive. The streets of Philadelphia are more dangerous than your darkest nightmare. Fever victims lay in the gutters, thieves and wild men lurk on every corner. The markets have little food. You can't wander. If you are determined to return home with your grandfather, then you must stay there until the fever abates." (16.23)

"In the beginning of August, this was the largest city in the United States. Forty thousand people lived here. Near as I can tell, "he pointed to the jumble of notes and letters on the desk before him, "more than half the city has fled, twenty thousand people."

"How many dead, Sir?"

"More than three thousand, enough to fill house after house, street after street." (20.55-20.57)

The city was darker than I had ever seen. The moon had already set, but no light flickered in the whale oil lamps that lined High Street. The lamplighters had all fled the city or died. Candlelight spilled from only a few windows, and the stars were faint and distant, as far away as hope or the dawn. (25.10)

The market seemed like a festival, its stalls overflowing with food and rejoicing. It was noisier than ever before, talk, talk, talk, friends sharing the news, overblown laughter, strong-lunged farmers bellowing their wares. A welcome wave of noise and good cheer. (26.43)

With every hour that passed, Philadelphia shed the appearance of a ghost city and looked more and more like the capital of the United States. Like a wilted flower stuck in a bowl of water, it drew strength and blossomed. Nathaniel talked about painting the rebirth of the city. I thought he would do a grand job. (27.4)