The Smallpox Patients Nobody Would Haul
Three new cases at the American House left Seattle's health officer begging for a carriage while three patients sawed their way out of quarantine.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Three more cases of smallpox developed yesterday in the American House, on Washington street. The patients' names are A. Berrara, B. Spada and Mrs. A. Speller. Health Officer Sparling endeavored to get a team from one of the livery stables to take the patients to the pest house, but was unsuccessful. He gives as an explanation that, in addition to objecting to have their vehicles used for carrying smallpox patients, the liverymen are afraid that their bills will not be allowed when they reach the auditing board after being passed by the board of health. A messenger was sent to the county farm to get the carriage used for conveying patients, but the superintendent refused to allow it to be used for smallpox patients.
The police department officials were much disturbed about the state of affairs, and all day were continually urging Dr. Sparling to remove the patients. When he told them he would like to, but could not obtain a conveyance, the statement was discredited. How or when the patients will be taken from the building remains to be seen. In the meantime those in the building who are well will have a chance to contract the disease.
At 10 o'clock last night Health Officer Sparling succeeded in hiring a carriage, and the patients were taken to the pest house.
Three Italians escaped from the quarantined house some time between 12 and 3 o'clock yesterday morning in a very clever manner. One was captured at 3:20 and returned to the house, but the other two are at large. The police have nothing to say of the matter, but it is known they have the fugitives' descriptions, and expect to have them back in the quarters today. One of them was on the sidewalk in front of the house yesterday afternoon, and laughed at the forlorn faces in the windows.
The manner in which they escaped was obtained from a person who is in the building. The men went down into the saloon, and from there into the basement wine room. They took a saw and cut off the planks of the floor. The ground was not solid when the building was erected, and a space of about a foot was open for them to crawl through. When they reached the street, which is not yet filled in under the planking, it was an easy matter to come out through one of the numerous holes at the foot of the street. Detective Cave and Officer Powers caught one of the men about an hour later. At first he denied having escaped, but his clothes were covered with mud, and he gave up when near the building. It is not likely that any more will escape, as three officers have been put on guard.
“How or when the patients will be taken from the building remains to be seen. In the meantime those in the building who are well will have a chance to contract the disease.”
In 1892, as now, a quarantine is only as strong as the institutions asked to carry it out. Liverymen worried about unpaid bills and the county farm refused its carriage while smallpox patients remained in a crowded lodging house. The episode is a reminder that public health emergencies quickly become disputes over money, jurisdiction, and who is forced to bear the risk.
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