Angel Agnes, or, The heroine of the yellow fever plague in Shreveport: The strangely romantic history and sad death of Miss Agnes Arnold, the adopted ... city (Wesley Bradshaw's real life series)

ANGEL AGNES:

Or, the Heroine of the Yellow Fever Plague in Shreveport.

The Strangely Romantic History and Sad Death
of
Miss Agnes Arnold,
the Adopted Daughter of the Late Samuel Arnold, of This City.

Wealthy, Lovely, and Engaged to Be Married, Yet
This Devoted Girl Volunteered to Go and
Nurse Yellow Fever Patients at
Shreveport, Louisiana.

After Three Weeks of Incessant Labor She Met with a
Painful and Fatal Accident.

_She Died in the Hope of a Blessed Immortality_.

Her Intended Husband, Who Had Followed Her to
Shreveport, Had Already Died, and the Two
Were Buried Side by Side.

Terrible Scenes during the Plague.

by

WESLEY BRADSHAW.







Issued by
Old Franklin Publishing House in Philadelphia, Pa.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
C. W. Alexander, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at
Washington, D.C.





ANGEL AGNES.


May God protect you, reader of this book, from all manner of sickness;
but above all, from that thrice dreaded pestilence, yellow fever. Of
all the scourge ever sent upon poor sinful man, none equals in horror
and loathsomeness yellow fever. Strong fathers and husbands, sons and
brothers, who would face the grape-shot battery in battle, have fled
dismayed from the approach of yellow fever. They have even deserted
those most dear to them. Courageous, enduring women, too, who feared
hardly any other form of sickness, have been terrified into cowardice
and flight when yellow fever announced its awful presence.

Such was the state of affairs when, a short time ago, the startling
announcement was made that yellow fever had broken out in Shreveport,
Louisiana, and that it was of the most malignant type. At once
everybody who could do so left the stricken city for safer localities,
and, with equal promptitude, other cities and towns quarantined
themselves against Shreveport, for fear of the spread of the frightful
contagion to their own homes and firesides.

Daily the telegraph flashed to all parts of the land the condition of
Shreveport, until the operators themselves were cut down by the
disease and carried to the graveyard. Volunteers were then called for
from among operators in the places, and several of these, who came in
response to the call, though acclimated, and fanciedly safe, took it
and died. Then it was that terror really began to take hold of the
people in earnest. A man was alive and well in the morning, and at
night he was a horrible corpse. The fond mother who thanked heaven, as
she put her children to bed, that she had no signs of the malady, and
would be able to nurse them if they got sick, left those little ones
orphans before another bedtime came around. In some cases even, the
fell destroyer within forty-eight hours struck down whole families,
leaving neither husband, mother nor orphans to mourn each other, but
sweeping them all into eternity on one wave as it were.

Then it was that a great wail of mortal distress rose from
Shreveport--a call for help from one end of the land to another.
Business came to a stand-still, the ordinary avocations of life were
suspended. No work! no money! no bread! Nothing but sickness! nothing
but horror! nothing but despair! nothing but death! Alas! was there no
help in this supreme moment? There was plenty of money forthcoming,
but no nurses. Philanthropic men and women in near and also distant
States, sent their dollars even by telegraph. But who would go thither
and peril his or her life for the good of the city in sackcloth and
ashes?