Few had secured to themselves an asylum; some were without the means of paying for victuals or lodging for the coming night; others, who were not thus destitute, yet knew not whither to apply for entertainment, every house being already overstocked with inhabitants, or barring its inhospitable doors at their approach.
Families of weeping mothers and dismayed children, attended with a few pieces of indispensable furniture, were carried in vehicles of every form.

The parent or husband had perished; and the price of some movable, or the pittance handed forth by public charity, had been expended to purchase the means of retiring from this theatre of disasters, though uncertain and hopeless of accommodation in the neighbouring districts.
Between these and the fugitives whom curiosity had led to the road, dialogues frequently took place, to which I was suffered to listen.

From every mouth the tale of sorrow was repeated with new aggravations.
Pictures of their own distress, or of that of their neighbours, were exhibited in all the hues which imagination can annex to pestilence and poverty.
My preconceptions of the evil now appeared to have fallen short of the truth.

The dangers into which I was rushing seemed more numerous and imminent than I had previously imagined.

I wavered not in my purpose.