Beschreibung:

Autograph letter signed to his wife during the Yellow Fever epidemic.
Norriton: 22 October 1793. 1¼ pp., written on both sides of folded sheet with integral address leaf (205 x 162 mm). Signed “D. Rittenhouse” at the bottom of the first page, with a postscript written on verso. Condition : address leaf separated, folds, short edge tears and minor chips. written in the midst of the yellow fever epidemic, shortly after the death of his son-in-law from the virus. In the late summer of 1793 a devasting yellow fever epidemic attacked Philadelphia, then the largest city in the United States. At the outbreak of the fever, Philadelphia’s renowned man of science David Rittenhouse was among the leaders of those struggling to care for the sick. However, for a short time in October 1793 he travelled away from the fever-ridden city to his country house in Norriton. His wife, however, remained in Philadelphia. This letter was written in response to one received from his wife and begins immediately with a discussion of the virus and the health of their family: “ Your letter made me happy by informing me of your health, but still the reluctance with which you mention Mrs. Smith’s death alarms me, for how do I know what you may have conceal’d out of tenderness for me. I will however hope for the best, as I have ever been inclined to do when absent from you. I will hope that you & Betsy her family & Sister Parry’s are well & may long continue to do so .” The letter continues with Rittenhouse asking his wife to look after their daughter Besty (i.e. Elizabeth) whose husband Jonathan Dickinson Seargeant had died of the fever on 8 October: “ Can you keep up Betsy’s spirits, her situation is truly distressing, but we allways [sic] thought she did not want resolution. Her uneasiness at what Dr. [Benjamin] Rush said some weeks ago did not appear to me any proof of the contrary as Mr. Sargeant seemed to think. ” Congress, including George Washington, had fled the panicked city in August, but was set to resume its session in Germantown in November. Relating his travel plans to his wife, Rittenhouse probably refers to the meeting of Congress, writing, “ Had I not received your letter I should have set off tomorrow morning in expectation of finding you at Poplar Lane. I had thought the more necessary on account of my business at Germantown .” The letter then returns to the destructive nature of the fever: “ We have such uncertain & contradictory accounts from town that nothing can be depended on unless it be the death of particular persons. From the best information I am not satisfied that any of the country people who are dead or ill since being at Market, have had the yellow fever. One in this Neighbourhood certainly has not, tho’ he will probably not recover .” The letter closes with a postscript cautioning his wife to keep her health, writing, “ Neglect no precaution for you health. You may judge of mine when I assure you I have not thought it necessary to take any Bark since I came here. ” The treatment he refers to, alternatively referred to as the West Indian or Federalist cure, involved Cinchona bark and wine. “The 1793 yellow fever epidemic was no mere round of sickness but a major public health emergency that paralyzed city functions, halted business and trade, and caused a breakdown in social instututions. The fever’s devasting effect on what was then our nation’s capital is apparent in the grim statistics it left in its wake: more than 17,000 people fled the city for safer environs, nearly 5,000 died, and hundreds of children were orphaned” (“Foreward” in A Melancholy Scene of Devastation, Philadelphia: 1997).