Mortal Remains: Death in Early America

3. A Tale of Two Cities: Epidemics and the Rituals of Death in Eighteenth-Century Boston and Philadelphia

Chapter 3 A Tale of Two Cities: Epidemics and the Rituals of Death in Eighteenth-Century Boston and Philadelphia Robert V.Wells What occurrence[is] so common as death ? —Elizabeth Drinker (February 25, 1798) In a meditation written in seventeenth-century England,John Donne observed , "No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. . . .Anyman's death diminishes me because I am involved in all mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."1 These words remind us of the importance of the social aspects of death rituals, that indeed, no man or woman is an island when it comes time to confront the last great passage. Historically,as well as today, rituals have provided both direction and comfort for the dying and their survivors , setting forth a script to be acted out with clearly defined roles and dialogue. Moreover, commonly accepted rituals link bereaved family and friends at a time when isolation is likely to be the least desirable of conditions.2 However clear and useful the rituals of death may be under normal circumstances , authors as varied as Thucydides, Edgar Allan Poe, and Albert Camus have reminded readers that during epidemics, rituals may become distorted or abandoned in the face of fears induced by unfamiliar and often loathsome forms of death.3 Although the rituals of death in early America were well defined, epidemics occurred which not only undermined the power of rituals to comfort and direct, but even forced their temporary abandonment.4 Twoindividuals who lived through such terrifying episodes were Puritan minister Cotton Mather,whose experiences with measles in 1713 and smallpox in 1721 illuminate tensions in his community , and Elizabeth Drinker, the wife of a Quaker merchant, who suffered A Tale of Two Cities 57 through social collapse during the yellowfever epidemic in Philadelphia in 1793.5 Before observing how epidemics distorted the rituals of death, we must establish some sense of what normal practice involved. In his survey of colonial American culture patterns, David H. Fischer argues for the existence of four culturally and regionally distinct "deathways."6 Here I will emphasize instead three broad sets of rituals, encompassing common expectations and their social contexts—because differences in the response to death were as often the result of personal circumstances as regional culture.7 The first set of rituals began at the moment when death was imminent , when one prepared to die—preferably with resignation to God's will. While obviously a personal if not spiritual exercise, preparation for death was most often accomplished amid family and friends. The second set of rituals involved separation beginning with the moment of actual death, extending through the preparing of the body and ultimately its interment. The deceased was literally and symbolically transferred from the world of the living to that of the dead, while survivors were consoled by various acquaintances . The final set of rituals emphasized the restoration of grieving survivors to a normal place in society and efforts to preserve the memory of the deceased. The diary of Elizabeth Drinker (discussed at greater length below) goes far in helping us establish a sense of the normal rituals of death. An old friend and neighbor, Rebecca Wain, died in April 1798, after suffering a relapse for having "ventured out too soon after her late illness." During Wain's last days, Drinker and her sister attended this old friend, who had grown "insensible to light and noise." As Drinker prepared for a follow-up visit, Wain's servant girl arrived in tears with news that Elizabeth's old friend had died. Drinker "went over and stayed with the afflicted children 'till their other friends and relations arrived." She remained until a woman arrived to layWain out, at which time Drinker left, not wanting to be present when "that awful business commenced." Two days later, on the morning of the funeral, she went back "to take a last look at my old friend." Wain's family had prepared two rooms for company, but an ill-timed rainstorm kept many away. Only a handful accompanied the corpse to the burial ground. Although Drinker herself did not go, she almost shuddered when she wrote that this was"one of the longest days I have known."8 One of the most poignant episodes in Drinker's diary is...