A JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR
By Daniel Defoe
being observations or
memorials
of the most remarkable
occurrences,
as well public as
private, which happened in
London during the last
great visitation in 1665.
Written by a Citizen
who continued
all the while in
London.
Never made public
before
It was about the beginning of September, 1664, that I, among
the rest of my neighbors, heard in ordinary discourse that the plague was
returned again in Holland; for it had been very violent there, and particularly
at Amsterdam and Rotterdam, in the year 1663, whither, they say, it was brought,
some said from Italy, others from the Levant, among some goods which were
brought home by their Turkey fleet; others said it was brought from Candia;
others from Cyprus. It mattered not from whence it came; but all agreed it was
come into Holland again.
We had no such thing as printed newspapers in those days to
spread rumors and reports of things, and to improve them by the invention of
men, as I have lived to see practiced since. But such things as these were
gathered from the letters of merchants and others who corresponded abroad, and
from them was handed about by word of mouth only; so that things did not spread
instantly over the whole nation, as they do now. But it seems that the
Government had a true account of it, and several councils were held about ways
to prevent its coming over; but all was kept very private. Hence it was that
this rumor died off again, and people began to forget it as a thing we were
very little concerned in, and that we hoped was not true; till the latter end
of November or the beginning of December 1664 when two men, said to be
Frenchmen, died of the plague in Long Acre, or rather at the upper end of Drury
Lane. The family they were in endeavored to conceal it as much as possible, but
as it had gotten some vent in the discourse of the neighborhood, the
Secretaries of State got knowledge of it; and concerning themselves to inquire
about it, in order to be certain of the truth, two physicians and a surgeon
were ordered to go to the house and make inspection. This they did; and finding
evident tokens of the sickness upon both the bodies that were dead, they gave
their opinions publicly that they died of the plague. Whereupon it was given in
to the parish clerk, and he also returned them to the Hall; and it was printed
in the weekly bill of mortality in the usual manner, thus—
Plague, 2.
Parishes infected, 1.
The people showed a great concern at this, and began to be
alarmed all over the town, and the more, because in the last week in December
1664 another man died in the same house, and of the same distemper. And then we
were easy again for about six weeks, when none having died with any marks of
infection, it was said the distemper was gone; but after that, I think it was
about the 12th of February, another died in another house, but in the same
parish and in the same manner.
This turned the people's eyes pretty much towards that end
of the town, and the weekly bills showing an increase of burials in St Giles's
parish more than usual, it began to be suspected that the plague was among the
people at that end of the town, and that many had died of it, though they had
taken care to keep it as much from the knowledge of the public as possible.
This possessed the heads of the people very much, and few cared to go through
Drury Lane, or the other streets suspected, unless they had extraordinary
business that obliged them to it
This increase of the bills stood thus: the usual number of
burials in a week, in the parishes of St Giles-in-the-Fields and St Andrew's, Hollyburn,
were from twelve to seventeen or nineteen each, few more or less; but from the
time that the plague first began in St Giles's parish, it was observed that the
ordinary burials increased in number considerably. For example: —
From December 27
to January 3 {St Giles's 16
" { St Andrew's 17
" January 3 " "
10 {St Giles's 12
" { St Andrew's 25
" January 10 " "
17 {St Giles's 18
" { St Andrew's 28
" January 17 " "
24 {St Giles's 23
" { St Andrew's 16
" January 24 " "
31 {St Giles's 24
" { St Andrew's 15
" January 30 " February 7 {St
Giles's 21
" { St Andrew's 23
" February 7 " "
14 {St Giles's 24
The like increase of the bills was observed in the parishes
of St Bride's, adjoining on one side of Hollyburn parish, and in the parish of
St James, Clerkenwell, adjoining on the other side of Hollyburn; in both which
parishes the usual numbers that died weekly were from four to six or eight,
whereas at that time they were increased as follows:—
From December 20
to December 27 {St Bride's 0
" { St James's 8
" December 27 to January 3 {St Bride's 6
" { St James's 9
" January 3 " "
10 {St Bride's 11
" { St James's 7
" January 10 " "
17 {St Bride's 12
" { St James's 9
" January 17 " "
24 {St Bride's 9
" { St James's 15
" January 24 " "
31 {St Bride's 8
" { St James's 12
" January 31 " February 7 {St Bride's 13
" { St James's 5
" February 7 " "
14 {St Bride's 12
" { St James's 6
Besides this, it was observed with great uneasiness by the
people that the weekly bills in general increased very much during these weeks,
although it was at a time of the year when usually the bills are very moderate.
The usual number of burials within the bills of mortality
for a week was from about 240 or thereabouts to 300. The last was esteemed a
pretty high bill; but after this we found the bills successively increasing as follows:
—
Buried. Increased.
December the 20th
to the 27th 291 ...
" "
27th " 3rd January 349 58
January the 3rd
" 10th " 394 45
" "
10th " 17th " 415 21
" "
17th " 24th " 474 59
This last bill was frightful, being a higher number than had
been known to have been buried in one week since the preceding visitation of
1656.
However, all this went off again, and the weather proving
cold, and the frost, which began in December, still continuing very severe even
till near the end of February, attended with sharp though moderate winds, the
bills decreased again, and the city grew healthy, and everybody began to look
upon the danger as good as over; only that still the burials in St Giles's
continued high. From the beginning of April especially they stood at
twenty-five each week, till the week from the 18th to the 25th, when there was
buried in St Giles's parish thirty, whereof two of the plague and eight of the
spotted-fever, which was looked upon as the same thing; likewise the number
that died of the spotted-fever in the whole increased, being eight the week
before, and twelve the week above-named.
This alarmed us all again, and terrible apprehensions were
among the people, especially the weather being now changed and growing warm,
and the summer being at hand. However, the next week there seemed to be some
hopes again; the bills were low, the number of the dead in all was but 388,
there was none of the plague, and but four of the spotted fever.
But the following week it returned again, and the distemper
was spread into two or three other parishes, viz., St Andrew's, Hollyburn; St
Clement Danes; and, to the great affliction of the city, one died within the
walls, in the parish of St Mary Wool church, that is to say, in Bear binder
Lane, near Stocks Market; in all there were nine of the plague and six of the
spotted-fever. It was, however, upon inquiry found that this Frenchman who died
in Bear binder Lane was one who, having lived in Long Acre, near the infected
houses, had removed for fear of the distemper, not knowing that he was already
infected.
This was the beginning of May, yet the weather was
temperate, variable, and cool enough, and people had still some hopes. That
which encouraged them was that the city was healthy: the whole ninety-seven
parishes buried but fifty-four, and we began to hope that, as it was chiefly
among the people at that end of the town, it might go no farther; and the
rather, because the next week, which was from the 9th of May to the 16th, there
died but three, of which not one within the whole city or liberties; and St
Andrew's buried but fifteen, which was very low. Tic true St Giles's buried
two-and-thirty, but still, as there was but one of the plagues, people began to
be easy. The whole bill also was very low, for the week before the bill was but
347, and the week above mentioned but 343. We continued in these hopes for a
few days, but it was but for a few, for the people were no more to be deceived
thus; they searched the houses and found that the plague was really spread
every way, and that many died of it every day. So that now all our extenuations
abated, and it was no more to be concealed; nay, it quickly appeared that the
infection had spread itself beyond all hopes of abatement. That in the parish
of St Giles it was gotten into several streets, and several families lay all
sick together; and, accordingly, in the weekly bill for the next week the thing
began to show itself. There was indeed but fourteen set down of the plague, but
this was all knavery and collusion, for in St Giles's parish they buried forty
in all, whereof it was certain most of them died of the plague, though they
were set down of other distempers; and though the number of all the burials
were not increased above thirty-two, and the whole bill being but 385, yet
there was fourteen of the spotted-fever, as well as fourteen of the plague; and
we took it for granted upon the whole that there were fifty died that week of
the plague.
The next bill was from the 23rd of May to the 30th, when the
number of the plague was seventeen. But the burials in St Giles's were
fifty-three—a frightful number!—of whom they set down but nine of the plague;
but on an examination more strictly by the justices of peace, and at the Lord
Mayor's request, it was found there were twenty more who were really dead of
the plague in that parish, but had been set down of the spotted-fever or other
distempers, besides others concealed.
But those were trifling things to what followed immediately
after; for now the weather set in hot, and from the first week in June the
infection spread in a dreadful manner, and the bills rose high; the articles of
the fever, spotted-fever, and teeth began to swell; for all that could conceal their
distempers did it, to prevent their neighbors shunning and refusing to converse
with them, and also to prevent authority shutting up their houses; which,
though it was not yet practiced, yet was threatened, and people were extremely
terrified at the thoughts of it.
The second week in June, the parish of St Giles, where still
the weight of the infection lay, buried 120, whereof though the bills said but
sixty-eight of the plague, everybody said there had been 100 at least,
calculating it from the usual number of funerals in that parish, as above.
Till this week the city continued free, there having never
any died, except that one Frenchman whom I mentioned before, within the whole
ninety-seven parishes. Now there died four within the city, one in Wood Street,
one in Fenchurch Street, and two in Crooked Lane. Southwark was entirely free,
having not one yet died on that side of the water.
I lived without Landgate, about midway between Landgate
Church and Whitechapel Bars, on the left hand or north side of the street; and
as the distemper had not reached to that side of the city, our neighborhood
continued very easy. But at the other end of the town their consternation was
very great: and the richer sort of people, especially the nobility and gentry
from the west part of the city, thronged out of town with their families and
servants in an unusual manner; and this was more particularly seen in Whitechapel;
that is to say, the Broad Street where I lived; indeed, nothing was to be seen
but wagons and carts, with goods, women, servants, children, &c.; coaches
filled with people of the better sort and horsemen attending them, and all
hurrying away; then empty wagons and carts appeared, and spare horses with
servants, who, it was apparent, were returning or sent from the countries to
fetch more people; besides innumerable numbers of men on horseback, some alone,
others with servants, and, generally speaking, all loaded with baggage and
fitted out for travelling, as anyone might perceive by their appearance.
This was a very terrible and melancholy thing to see, and as
it was a sight which I could not but look on from morning to night (for indeed
there was nothing else of moment to be seen), it filled me with very serious
thoughts of the misery that was coming upon the city, and the unhappy condition
of those that would be left in it.
This hurry of the people was such for some weeks that there
was no getting at the Lord Mayor's door without exceeding difficulty; there
were such pressing and crowding there to get passes and certificates of health
for such as travelled abroad, for without these there was no being admitted to
pass through the towns upon the road, or to lodge in any inn. Now, as there had
none died in the city for all this time, my Lord Mayor gave certificates of
health without any difficulty to all those who lived in the ninety-seven
parishes, and to those within the liberties too for a while.
This hurry, I say, continued some weeks, that is to say, all
the month of May and June, and the more because it was rumored that an order of
the Government was to be issued out to place turnpikes and barriers on the road
to prevent people travelling, and that the towns on the road would not suffer
people from London to pass for fear of bringing the infection along with them,
though neither of these rumors had any foundation but in the imagination,
especially at-first.
I now began to consider seriously with myself concerning my
own case, and how I should dispose of myself; that is to say, whether I should
resolve to stay in London or shut up my house and flee, as many of my neighbors
did. I have set this particular down so fully, because I know not but it may be
of moment to those who come after me, if they come to be brought to the same
distress, and to the same manner of making their choice; and therefore I desire
this account may pass with them rather for a direction to themselves to act by
than a history of my acting's, seeing it may not be of one farthing value to
them to note what became of me.
I had two important things before me: the one was the
carrying on my business and shop, which was considerable, and in which was
embarked all my effects in the world; and the other was the preservation of my
life in so dismal a calamity as I saw apparently was coming upon the whole
city, and which, however great it was, my fears perhaps, as well as other
people's, represented to be much greater than it could be.
The first consideration was of great moment to me; my trade
was a saddler, and as my dealings were chiefly not by a shop or chance trade,
but among the merchants trading to the English colonies in America, so my
effects lay very much in the hands of such. I was a single man, 'tis true, but
I had a family of servants whom I kept at my business; had a house, shop, and warehouses
filled with goods; and, in short, to leave them all as things in such a case
must be left (that is to say, without any overseer or person fit to be trusted
with them), had been to hazard the loss not only of my trade, but of my goods,
and indeed of all I had in the world.
I had an elder brother at the same time in London, and not
many years before come over from Portugal: and advising with him, his answer
was in three words, the same that was given in another case quite different,
viz., 'Master, save thyself.' In a word, he was for my retiring into the
country, as he resolved to do himself with his family; telling me what he had,
it seems, heard abroad, that the best preparation for the plague was to run
away from it. As to my argument of losing my trade, my goods, or debts, he
quite confuted me. He told me the same thing which I argued for my staying,
viz., that I would trust God with my safety and health, was the strongest
repulse to my pretensions of losing my trade and my goods; 'for', says he, 'is
it not as reasonable that you should trust God with the chance or risk of
losing your trade, as that you should stay in so eminent a point of danger, and
trust Him with your life?'
I could not argue that I was in any strait as to a place
where to go, having several friends and relations in Northampton shire, whence
our family first came from; and particularly, I had an only sister in
Lincolnshire, very willing to receive and entertain me.
My brother, who had already sent his wife and two children
into Bedfordshire, and resolved to follow them, pressed my going very
earnestly; and I had once resolved to comply with his desires, but at that time
could get no horse; for though it is true all the people did not go out of the
city of London, yet I may venture to say that in a manner all the horses did;
for there was hardly a horse to be bought or hired in the whole city for some
weeks. Once I resolved to travel on foot with one servant, and, as many did,
lie at no inn, but carry a soldier's tent with us, and so lie in the fields,
the weather being very warm, and no danger from taking cold. I say, as many
did, because several did so at last, especially those who had been in the
armies in the war which had not been many years past; and I must needs say
that, speaking of second causes, had most of the people that travelled done so,
the plague had not been carried into so many country towns and houses as it
was, to the great damage, and indeed to the ruin, of abundance of people.
But then my servant, whom I had intended to take down with
me, deceived me; and being freighted at the increase of the distemper, and not
knowing when I should go, he took other measures, and left me, so I was put off
for that time; and, one way or other, I always found that to appoint to go away
was always crossed by some accident or other, so as to disappoint and put it
off again; and this brings in a story which otherwise might be thought a
needless digression, viz., about these disappointments being from Heaven.
I mention this story also as the best method I can advise
any person to take in such a case, especially if he be one that makes
conscience of his duty, and would be directed what to do in it, namely, that he
should keep his eye upon the particular providences which occur at that time,
and look upon them complexly, as they regard one another, and as all together
regard the question before him: and then, I think, he may safely take them for
intimations from Heaven of what is his unquestioned duty to do in such a case;
I mean as to going away from or staying in the place where we dwell, when
visited with an infectious distemper.
It came very warmly into my mind one morning, as I was
musing on this particular thing, that as nothing attended us without the
direction or permission of Divine Power, so these disappointments must have
something in them extraordinary; and I ought to consider whether it did not
evidently point out, or intimate to me, that it was the will of Heaven I should
not go. It immediately followed in my thoughts, that if it really was from God
that I should stay, He was able effectually to preserve me in the midst of all
the death and danger that would surround me; and that if I attempted to secure
myself by fleeing from my habitation, and acted contrary to these intimations,
which I believe to be Divine, it was a kind of flying from God, and that He
could cause His justice to overtake me when and where He thought fit.
These thoughts quite turned my resolutions again, and when I
came to discourse with my brother again I told him that I inclined to stay and
take my lot in that station in which God had placed me, and that it seemed to
be made more especially my duty, on the account of what I have said.
My brother, though a very religious man himself, laughed at
all I had suggested about its being an intimation from Heaven, and told me
several stories of such foolhardy people, as he called them, as I was; that I
ought indeed to submit to it as a work of Heaven if I had been any way disabled
by distempers or diseases, and that then not being able to go, I ought to
acquiesce in the direction of Him, who, having been my Maker, had an undisputed
right of sovereignty in disposing of me, and that then there had been no
difficulty to determine which was the call of His providence and which was not;
but that I should take it as an intimation from Heaven that I should not go out
of town, only because I could not hire a horse to go, or my fellow was run away
that was to attend me, was ridiculous, since at the time I had my health and
limbs, and other servants, and might with ease travel a day or two on foot, and
having a good certificate of being in perfect health, might either hire a horse
or take post on the road, as I thought fit.
Then he proceeded to tell me of the mischievous consequences
which attended the presumption of the Turks and Mahomet Ans in Asia and in
other places where he had been (for my brother, being a merchant, was a few
years before, as I have already observed, returned from abroad, coming last
from Lisbon), and how, presuming upon their professed predestinating notions,
and of every man's end being predetermined and unalterably beforehand decreed,
they would go unconcerned into infected places and converse with infected
persons, by which means they died at the rate of ten or fifteen thousand a
week, whereas the Europeans or Christian merchants, who kept themselves retired
and reserved, generally escaped the contagion.
Upon these arguments my brother changed my resolutions
again, and I began to resolve to go, and accordingly made all things ready;
for, in short, the infection increased round me, and the bills were risen to
almost seven hundred a week, and my brother told me he would venture to stay no
longer. I desired him to let me consider of it but till the next day, and I
would resolve: and as I had already prepared everything as well as I could as
to MY business, and whom to entrust my affairs with, I had little to do but to
resolve.
I went home that evening greatly oppressed in my mind,
irresolute, and not knowing what to do. I had set the evening wholly—apart to
consider seriously about it, and was all alone; for already people had, as it
were by a general consent, taken up the custom of not going out of doors after
sunset; the reasons I shall have occasion to say more of by-and-by.
In the retirement of this evening I endeavored to resolve,
first, what was my duty to do, and I stated the arguments with which my brother
had pressed me to go into the country, and I set, against them the strong
impressions which I had on my mind for staying; the visible call I seemed to
have from the particular circumstance of my calling, and the care due from me
for the preservation of my effects, which were, as I might say, my estate; also
the intimations which I thought I had from Heaven, that to me signified a kind
of direction to venture; and it occurred to me that if I had what I might call
a direction to stay, I ought to suppose it contained a promise of being
preserved if I obeyed.
This lay close to me, and my mind seemed more and more
encouraged to stay than ever and supported with a secret satisfaction that I
should be kept. Add to this, that, turning over the Bible which lay before me,
and while my thoughts were more than ordinarily serious upon the question, I
cried out, 'Well, I know not what to do; Lord, direct me !' and the like; and
at that juncture I happened to stop turning over the book at the ninety-first
Psalm, and casting my eye on the second verse, I read on to the seventh verse
exclusive, and after that included the tenth, as follows: 'I will say of the
Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God, in Him will I trust. Surely, He
shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome
pestilence. He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt
thou trust: His truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid
for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that filet by day; nor for the
pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasted at
noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand;
but it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see
the reward of the wicked. Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge,
even the Highest, thy habitation; there shall no evil befall thee, neither
shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling,' &C.
I scarce need tell the reader that from that moment I
resolved that I would stay in the town, and casting myself entirely upon the
goodness and protection of the Almighty, would not seek any other shelter
whatever; and that, as my times were in His hands, He was as able to keep me in
a time of the infection as in a time of health; and if He did not think fit to
deliver me, still I was in His hands, and it was meet He should do with me as
should seem good to Him.
With this resolution I went to bed; and I was further
confirmed in it the next day by the woman being taken ill with whom I had
intended to entrust my house and all my affairs. But I had a further obligation
laid on me on the same side, for the next day I found myself very much out of
order also, so that if I would have gone away, I could not, and I continued ill
three or four days, and this entirely determined my stay; so I took my leave of
my brother, who went away to Dorking, in Surrey, and afterwards fetched a round
farther into Buckinghamshire or Bedfordshire, to a retreat he had found out
there for his family.
It was a very ill time to be sick in, for if any one complained,
it was immediately said he had the plague; and though I had indeed no symptom
of that distemper, yet being very ill, both in my head and in my stomach, I was
not without apprehension that I really was infected; but in about three days I
grew better; the third night I rested well, sweated a little, and was much
refreshed. The apprehensions of its being the infection went also quite away
with my illness, and I went about my business as usual.
These things, however, put off all my thoughts of going into
the country; and my brother also being gone, I had no more debate either with
him or with myself on that subject.
It was now mid-July, and the plague, which had chiefly raged
at the other end of the town, and, as I said before, in the parishes of St Giles,
St Andrew's, Hollyburn, and towards Westminster, began to now come eastward
towards the part where I lived. It was to be observed, indeed, that it did not
come straight on towards us; for the city, that is to say, within the walls,
was indifferently healthy still; nor was it got then very much over the water
into Southwark; for though there died that week 1268 of all distempers, whereof
it might be supposed above 600 died of the plague, yet there was but
twenty-eight in the whole city, within the walls, and but nineteen in
Southwark, Lambeth parish included; whereas in the parishes of St Giles and St
Martin-in-the-Fields alone there died 421.
But we perceived the infection kept chiefly in the
out-parishes, which being very populous, and fuller also of poor, the distemper
found more to prey upon than in the city, as I shall observe afterwards. We
perceived, I say, the distemper to draw our way, viz., by the parishes of Clerkenwell,
Cripple gate, Shore ditch, and Bishopsgate; which last two parishes joining to Landgate,
Whitechapel, and Stoney, the infection came at length to spread its utmost rage
and violence in those parts, even when it abated at the western parishes where
it began.
It was very strange to observe that in this particular week,
from the 4th to the 11th of July, when, as I have observed, there died near 400
of the plague in the two parishes of St Martin and St Giles-in-the-Fields only,
there died in the parish of Landgate but four, in the parish of Whitechapel
three, in the parish of Stoney but one.
Likewise, in the next week, from the 11th of July to the
18th, when the week's bill was 1761, yet there died no more of the plague, on
the whole Southwark side of the water, than sixteen. But this face of things
soon changed, and it began to thicken in Cripple gate parish especially, and in
Clerkenwell; so that by the second week in August, Cripple gate parish alone
buried 886, and Clerkenwell 155. Of the first, 850 might well be reckoned to
die of the plague; and of the last, the bill itself said 145 were of the
plague.
During the month of July, and while, as I have observed, our
part of the town seemed to be spared in comparison of the west part, I went
ordinarily about the streets, as my business required, and particularly went
generally once in a day, or in two days, into the city, to my brother's house,
which he had given me charge of, and to see if it was safe; and having the key
in my pocket, I used to go into the house, and over most of the rooms, to see
that all was well; for though it be something wonderful to tell, that any
should have hearts so hardened in the midst of such a calamity as to rob and
steal, yet certain it is that all sorts of villainies, and even levities and
debaucheries, were then practiced in the town as openly as ever—I will not say
quite as frequently, because the numbers of people were many ways lessened.
But the city itself began now to be visited too, I mean
within the walls; but the number of people there were indeed extremely lessened
by so great a multitude having been gone into the country; and even all this
month of July they continued to flee, though not in such multitudes as
formerly. In August, indeed, they fled in such a manner that I began to think
there would be really none, but magistrates and servants left in the city.
As they fled now out of the city, so I should observe that
the Court removed early, viz., in the month of June, and went to Oxford, where
it pleased God to preserve them; and the distemper did not, as I heard of, so
much as touch them, for which I cannot say that I ever saw they showed any
great token of thankfulness, and hardly anything of reformation, though they
did not want being told that their crying vices might without breach of charity
be said to have gone far in bringing that terrible judgement upon the whole
nation.
The face of London was—now indeed strangely altered: I mean
the whole mass of buildings, city, liberties, suburbs, Westminster, Southwark,
and altogether; for as to the particular part called the city, or within the
walls, that was not yet much infected. But in the whole the face of things, I
say, was much altered; sorrow and sadness sat upon every face; and though some
parts were not yet overwhelmed, yet all looked deeply concerned; and, as we saw
it apparently coming on, so everyone looked on himself and his family as in the
utmost danger. Were it possible to represent those times exactly to those that
did not see them, and give the reader due ideas of the horror 'that everywhere
presented itself, it must make just impressions upon their minds and fill them
with surprise? London might well be said to be all in tears; the mourners did
not go about the streets indeed, for nobody put on black or made a formal dress
of mourning for their nearest friends; but the voice of mourners was truly
heard in the streets. The shrieks of women and children at the windows and
doors of their houses, where their dearest relations were perhaps dying, or
just dead, were so frequent to be heard as we passed the streets, that it was
enough to pierce the stoutest heart in the world to hear them. Tears and
lamentations were seen almost in every house, especially in the first part of
the visitation; for towards the latter end men's hearts were hardened, and
death was so always before their eyes, that they did not so much concern
themselves for the loss of their friends, expecting that themselves should be
summoned the next hour.
Business led me out sometimes to the other end of the town,
even when the sickness was chiefly there; and as the thing was new to me, as
well as to everybody else, it was a most surprising thing to see those streets
which were usually so thronged now grown desolate, and so few people to be seen
in them, that if I had been a stranger and at a loss for my way, I might
sometimes have gone the length of a whole street (I mean of the by-streets),
and seen nobody to direct me except watchmen set at the doors of such houses as
were shut up, of which I shall speak presently.
One day, being at that part of the town on some special
business, curiosity led me to observe things more than usually, and indeed I
walked a great way where I had no business. I went up Hollyburn, and there the
street was full of people, but they walked in the middle of the great street,
neither on one side or other, because, as I suppose, they would not mingle with
anybody that came out of houses, or meet with smells and scent from houses that
might be infected.
The Inns of Court were all shut up; nor were very many of
the lawyers in the Temple, or Lincoln's Inn, or Gray's Inn, to be seen there.
Everybody was at peace; there was no occasion for lawyers; besides, it being in
the time of the vacation too, they were generally gone into the country. Whole
rows of houses in some places were shut close, the inhabitants all fled, and
only a watchman or two left.
When I speak of rows of houses being shut up, I do not mean
shut up by the magistrates, but that great numbers of persons followed the
Court, by the necessity of their employments and other dependences; and as
others retired, really freighted with the distemper, it was a mere desolating
of some of the streets. But the fright was not yet near so great in the city,
abstractly so called, and particularly because, though they were at first in a
most inexpressible consternation, yet as I have observed that the distemper
intermitted often at first, so they were, as it were, alarmed and unalarmed
again, and this several times, till it began to be familiar to them; and that
even when it appeared violent, yet seeing it did not presently spread into the
city, or the east and south parts, the people began to take courage, and to be,
as I may say, a little hardened. It is true a vast many people fled, as I have
observed, yet they were chiefly from the west end of the town, and from that we
call the heart of the city: that is to say, among the wealthiest of the people,
and such people as were unencumbered with trades and business. But of the rest,
the generality stayed, and seemed to abide the worst; so that in the place we
call the Liberties, and in the suburbs, in Southwark, and in the east part,
such as Wrapping, Ratcliff, Stoney, Rotherhithe, and the like, the people
generally stayed, except here and there a few wealthy families, who, as above,
did not depend upon their business.
It must not be forgot here that the city and suburbs were
prodigiously full of people at the time of this visitation, I mean at the time that
it began; for though I have lived to see a further increase, and mighty throngs
of people settling in London more than ever, yet we had always a notion that
the numbers of people which, the wars being over, the armies disbanded, and the
royal family and the monarchy being restored, had flocked to London to settle
in business, or to depend upon and attend the Court for rewards of services,
preferments, and the like, was such that the town was computed to have in it
above a hundred thousand people more than ever it held before; nay, some took
upon them to say it had twice as many, because all the ruined families of the
royal party flocked hither. All the old soldiers set up trades here, and
abundance of families settled here. Again, the Court brought with them a great
flux of pride, and new fashions. All people were grown gay and luxurious, and
the joy of the Restoration had brought a vast many family to London.
I often thought that as Jerusalem was besieged by the Romans
when the Jews were assembled together to celebrate the Passover—by which means
an incredible number of people were surprised there who would otherwise have
been in other countries—so the plague entered London when an incredible
increase of people had happened occasionally, by the particular circumstances
above-named. As this conflux of the people to a youthful and gay Court made a
great trade in the city, especially in everything that belonged to fashion and
finery, so it drew by consequence a great number of workmen, manufacturers, and
the like, being mostly poor people who depended upon their labor. And I
remember in particular that in a representation to my Lord Mayor of the
condition of the poor, it was estimated that there were no less than an hundred
thousand riband-weavers in and about the city, the chiefs number of whom lived
then in the parishes of Shore ditch, Stoney, Whitechapel, and Bishopsgate,
that, namely, about Spitalfields; that is to say, as Spitalfields was then, for
it was not so large as now by one fifth part.
By this, however, the number of people in the whole may be
judged of; and, indeed, I often wondered that, after the prodigious numbers of
people that went away at first, there was yet so great a multitude left as it
appeared there was.
But I must go back again to the beginning of this surprising
time. While the fears of the people were young, they were increased strangely
by several odd accidents which, put altogether, it was really a wonder the
whole body of the people did not rise as one man and abandon their dwellings,
leaving the place as a space of ground designed by Heaven for an Aceldama,
doomed to be destroyed from the face of the earth, and that all that would be
found in it would perish with it. I shall name but a few of these things; but sure,
they were so many, and so many wizards and cunning people propagating them,
that I have often wondered there was any (women especially) left behind.
In the first place, a blazing star or comet appeared for
several months before the plague, as there did the year after another, a little
before the fire. The old women and the phlegmatic hypochondriac part of the
other sex, whom I could almost call old women too, remarked (especially afterward,
though not till both those judgements were over) that those two comets passed
directly over the city, and that so very near the houses that it was plain they
imported something peculiar to the city alone; that the comet before the
pestilence was of a faint, dull, languid color, and its motion very heavy,
Solemn, and slow; but that the comet before the fire was bright and sparkling,
or, as others said, flaming, and its motion swift and furious; and that,
accordingly, one foretold a heavy judgement, slow but severe, terrible and
frightful, as was the plague; but the other foretold a stroke, sudden, swift,
and fiery as the conflagration. Nay, so particular some people were, that as
they looked upon that comet preceding the fire, they fancied that they not only
saw it pass swiftly and fiercely, and could perceive the motion with their eye,
but even they heard it; that it made a rushing, mighty noise, fierce and
terrible, though at a distance, and but just perceivable.
I saw both these stars, and, I must confess, had so much of
the common notion of such things in my head, that I was apt to look upon them
as the forerunners and warnings of God's judgements; and especially when, after
the plague had followed the first, I yet saw another of the like kind, I could
not but say God had not yet sufficiently scourged the city.
But I could not at the same time carry these things to the
height that others did, knowing, too, that natural causes are assigned by the
astronomers for such things, and that their motions and even their revolutions
are calculated, or pretended to be calculated, so that they cannot be so
perfectly called the forerunners or foretellers, much less the procurers, of
such events as pestilence, war, fire, and the like.
But let my thoughts and the thoughts of the philosophers be,
or have been, what they will, these things had a more than ordinary influence
upon the minds of the common people, and they had almost universal melancholy
apprehensions of some dreadful calamity and judgement coming upon the city; and
this principally from the sight of this comet, and the little alarm that was
given in December by two people dying at St Giles's, as above.
The apprehensions of the people were likewise strangely
increased by the error of the times; in which, I think, the people, from what
principle I cannot imagine, were more addicted to prophecies and astrological
conjurations, dreams, and old wives' tales than ever they were before or since.
Whether this unhappy temper was originally raised by the follies of some people
who got money by it—that is to say, by printing predictions and
prognostications—I know not; but certain it is, books freighted them terribly,
such as Lilly's Almanack, Cadbury's Astrological Predictions, Poor Robin's
Almanack, and the like; also several pretended religious books, one entitled,
Come out of her, my People, lest you be Partaker of her Plagues; another
called, Fair Warning; another, Britain's Remembrancer; and many such, all, or
most part of which, foretold, directly or covertly, the ruin of the city. Nay,
some were so enthusiastically bold as to run about the streets with their oral
predictions, pretending they were sent to preach to the city; and one in
particular, who, like Jonah to Nineveh, cried in the streets, 'Yet forty days,
and London shall be destroyed.' I will not be positive whether he said yet
forty days or yet a few days. Another ran about naked, except a pair of drawers
about his waist, crying day and night, like a man that Josephus mentions, who
cried, 'Woe to Jerusalem!' a little before the destruction of that city. So this
poor naked creature cried, 'Oh, the great and the dreadful God!' and said no
more, but repeated those words continually, with a voice and countenance full
of horror, a swift pace; and nobody could ever find him to stop or rest, or
take any sustenance, at least that ever I could hear of. I met this poor
creature several times in the streets, and would have spoken to him, but he
would not enter speech with me or anyone else but held on his dismal cries
continually.
These things terrified the people to the last degree, and
especially when two or three times, as I have mentioned already, they found one
or two in the bill's dead of the plague at St Giles's.
Next to these public things were the dreams of old women,
or, I should say, the interpretation of old women upon other people's dreams;
and these put abundance of people even out of their wits. Some heard voices
warning them to be gone, for that there would be such a plague in London, so
that the living would not be able to bury the dead. Others saw apparitions in
the air; and I must be allowed to say of both, I hope without breach of
charity, that they heard voices that never space, and saw sights that never
appeared; but the imagination of the people was really turned wayward and
possessed. And no wonder, if they who were pouring continually at the clouds
saw shapes and figures, representations and appearances, which had nothing in
them but air, and vapor. Here they told us they saw a flaming sword held in a
hand coming out of a cloud, with a point hanging directly over the city; there
they saw hearses and coffins in the air carrying to be buried; and there again,
heaps of dead bodies lying unburied, and the like, just as the imagination of
the poor terrified people furnished them with matter to work upon. So
hypochondriac fancies represent Ships, armies, battles in the firmament; Till
steady eyes the exhalations solve, and all to its first matter, cloud, resolve.
I could fill this account with the strange relations such
people gave every day of what they had seen; and every one was so positive of
their having seen what they pretended to see, that there was no contradicting
them without breach of friendship, or being accounted rude and unmannerly on the
one hand, and profane and impenetrable on the other. One time before the plague
was begun (otherwise than as I have said in St Giles's), I think it was in
March, seeing a crowd of people in the street, I joined with them to satisfy my
curiosity, and found them all staring up into the air to see what a woman told
them appeared plain to her, which was an angel clothed in white, with a fiery
sword in his hand, waving it or brandishing it over his head. She described
every part of the figure to the life, showed them the motion and the form, and
the poor people came into it so eagerly, and with so much readiness; 'Yes, I
see it all plainly,' says one; 'there's the sword as plain as can be.' Another
saw the angel. One saw his very face and cried out what a glorious creature he
was! One saw one thing, and one another. I looked as earnestly as the rest, but
perhaps not with so much willingness to be imposed upon; and I said, indeed,
that I could see nothing but a white cloud, bright on one side by the shining
of the sun upon the other part. The woman endeavored to show it me but could
not make me confess that I saw it, which, indeed, if I had I must have lied.
But the woman, turning upon me, looked in my face, and fancied I laughed, in
which her imagination deceived her too, for I really did not laugh, but was very
seriously reflecting how the poor people were terrified by the force of their
own imagination. However, she turned from me, called me profane fellow, and a
scoffer; told me that it was a time of God's anger, and dreadful judgements
were approaching, and that despisers such as I should wander and perish.
The people about her seemed disgusted as well as she; and I
found there was no persuading them that I did not laugh at them, and that I
should be rather mobbed by them than be able to undeceive them. So, I left
them; and this appearance passed for as real as the blazing star itself.
Another encounter I had in the open day also; and this was
in going through a narrow passage from Petty France into Bishopsgate
Churchyard, by a row of alms-houses. There are two churchyards to Bishopsgate
church or parish; one we go over to pass from the place called Petty France
into Bishopsgate Street, coming out just by the church door; the other is on
the side of the narrow passage where the alms-houses are on the left; and a
dwarf-wall with a palisade on it on the right hand, and the city wall on the
other side more to the right.
In this narrow passage stands a man looking through between
the palisades into the burying-place, and as many people as the narrowness of
the passage would admit to stop, without hindering the passage of others, and
he was talking mightily eagerly to them, and pointing now to one place, then to
another, and affirming that he saw a ghost walking upon such a gravestone
there. He described the shape, the posture, and the movement of it so exactly
that it was the greatest matter of amazement to him in the world that everybody
did not see it as well as he. On a sudden he would cry, 'There it is now it comes
this way.' Then, Tic turned back'; till at length he persuaded the people into
so firm a belief of it, that one fancied he saw it, and another fancied he saw
it; and thus he came every day making a strange hubbub, considering it was in
so narrow a passage, till Bishopsgate clock struck eleven, and then the ghost
would seem to start, and, as if he were called away, disappeared on a sudden.
I looked earnestly every way, and at the very moment that
this man directed, but could not see the least appearance of anything; but so
positive was this poor man, that he gave the people the vapors in abundance,
and sent them away trembling and freighted, till at length few people that knew
of it cared to go through that passage, and hardly anybody by night on any account
whatever.
This ghost, as the poor man affirmed, made signs to the
houses, and to the ground, and to the people, plainly intimating, or else they
so understanding it, that abundance of the people should come to be buried in
that churchyard, as indeed happened; but that he saw such aspects I must acknowledge
I never believed, nor could I see anything of it myself, though I looked most
earnestly to see it, if possible.
These things serve to show how far the people were really
overcome with delusions; and as they had a notion of the approach of a visitation,
all their predictions ran upon a most dreadful plague, which should lay the
whole city, and even the kingdom, waste, and should destroy almost all the
nation, both man and beast.
To this, as I said before, the astrologers added stories of
the conjunctions of planets in a malignant manner and with a mischievous
influence, one of which conjunctions was to happen, and did happen, in October,
and the other in November; and they filled the people's heads with predictions
on these signs of the heavens, intimating that those conjunctions foretold
drought, famine, and pestilence. In the two first of them, however, they were
entirely mistaken, for we had no droughty season, but in the beginning of the
year a hard frost, which lasted from December almost to March, and after that
moderate weather, rather warm than hot, with refreshing winds, and, in short,
very seasonable weather, and also several very great rains.
Some endeavors were used to suppress the printing of such
books as terrified the people, and to frighten the dispersers of them, some of
whom were taken up; but nothing was done in it, as I am informed, the
Government being unwilling to exasperate the people, who were, as I may say,
all out of their wits already.
Neither can I acquit those ministers that in their sermons
rather sank than lifted the hearts of their hearers. Many of them no doubt did
it for the strengthening the resolution of the people, and especially for
quickening them to repentance, but it certainly answered not their end, at
least not in proportion to the injury it did another way; and indeed, as God
Himself through the whole Scriptures rather draws to Him by invitations and
calls to turn to Him and live, than drives us by terror and amazement, so I
must confess I thought the ministers should have done also, imitating our
blessed Lord and Master in this, that His whole Gospel is full of declarations
from heaven of God's mercy, and His readiness to receive penitents and forgive
them, complaining, 'Ye will not come unto Me that ye may have life', and that
therefore His Gospel is called the Gospel of Peace and the Gospel of Grace.
But we had some good men, and that of all persuasions and
opinions, whose discourses were full of terror, who spoke nothing but dismal
things; and as they brought the people together with a kind of horror, sent
them away in tears, prophesying nothing but evil tidings, terrifying the people
with the apprehensions of being utterly destroyed, not guiding them, at least
not enough, to cry to heaven for mercy.
It was, indeed, a time of very unhappy breaches among us in
matters of religion. Innumerable sects and divisions and separate opinions
prevailed among the people. The Church of England was restored, indeed, with the
restoration of the monarchy, about four years before; but the ministers and
preachers of the Presbyterians and Independents, and of all the other sorts of
professions, had begun to gather separate societies and erect altar against
altar, and all those had their meetings for worship apart, as they have now,
but not so many then, the Dissenters being not thoroughly formed into a body as
they are since; and those congregations which were thus gathered together were
yet but few. And even those that were, the Government did not allow, but endeavored
to suppress them and shut up their meetings.
But the visitation reconciled them again, at least for a
time, and many of the best and most valuable ministers and preachers of the
Dissenters were suffered to go into the churches where the incumbents were fled
away, as many were, not being able to stand it; and the people flocked without
distinction to hear them preach, not much inquiring who or what opinion they
were of. But after the sickness was over, that spirit of charity abated; and
every church being again supplied with their own ministers, or others presented
where the minister was dead, things returned to their old channel again.
One mischief always introduces another. These terrors and
apprehensions of the people led them into a thousand weak, foolish, and wicked
things, which they wanted not a sort of people really wicked to encourage them
to: and this was running about to fortune-tellers, cunning-men, and astrologers
to know their fortune, or, as it is vulgarly expressed, to have their fortunes
told them, their nativities calculated, and the like; and this folly presently
made the town swarm with a wicked generation of pretenders to magic, to the
black art, as they called it, and I know not what; nay, to a thousand worse
dealings with the devil than they were really guilty of. And this trade grew so
open and so generally practiced that it became common to have signs and
inscriptions set up at doors: 'Here lives a fortune-teller', 'Here lives an
astrologer', 'Here you may have your nativity calculated', and the like; and
Friar Bacon's brazen-head, which was the usual sign of these people's
dwellings, was to be seen almost in every street, or else the sign of Mother
Shipton, or of Merlin's head, and the like.
With what blind, absurd, and ridiculous stuff these oracles
of the devil pleased and satisfied the people I really know not, but certain it
is that innumerable attendants crowded about their doors every day. And if but
a grave fellow in a velvet jacket, a band, and a black coat, which was the
habit those quack-conjurers generally went in, was but seen in the streets the
people would follow them in crowds, and ask them questions as they went along.
I need not mention what a horrid delusion this was, or what
it tended to; but there was no remedy for it till the plague itself put an end
to it all—and, I suppose, cleared the town of most of those calculators
themselves. One mischief was, that if the poor people asked these mock astrologers
whether there would be a plague or no, they all agreed in general to answer
'Yes', for that kept up their trade. And had the people not been kept in a
fright about that, the wizards would presently have been rendered useless, and
their craft had been at an end. But they always talked to them of such-and-such
influences of the stars, of the conjunctions of such-and-such planets, which
must necessarily bring sickness and distempers, and consequently the plague.
And some had the assurance to tell them the plague was begun already, which was
too true, though they that said so knew nothing of the matter.
The ministers, to do them justice, and preachers of most
sorts that were serious and understanding persons, thundered against these and
other wicked practices, and exposed the folly as well as the wickedness of them
together, and the most sober and judicious people despised and abhorred them.
But it was impossible to make any impression upon the middling people and the
working laboring poor. Their fears were predominant over all their passions,
and they threw away their money in a most distracted manner upon those
whimsies. Maidservants especially, and menservants, were the chief of their
customers, and their question generally was, after the first demand of 'Will
there be a plague?' I say, the next question was, 'Oh, sir I for the Lord's
sake, what will become of me? Will my mistress keep me, or will she turn me
off? Will she stay here, or will she go into the country? And if she goes into
the country, will she take me with her, or leave me here to be starved and
undone?' And the like of menservants.
The truth is, the case of poor servants was very dismal, as
I shall have occasion to mention again by-and-by, for it was apparent a
prodigious number of them would be turned away, and it was so. And of them
abundance perished, and particularly of those that these false prophets had
flattered with hopes that they should be continued in their services, and
carried with their masters and mistresses into the country; and had not public
charity provided for these poor creatures, whose number was exceeding great and
in all cases of this nature must be so, they would have been in the worst
condition of any people in the city.
These things agitated the minds of the common people for
many months, while the first apprehensions were upon them, and while the plague
was not, as I may say, yet broken out. But I must also not forget that the more
serious part of the inhabitants behaved after another manner. The Government
encouraged their devotion, and appointed public prayers and days of fasting and
humiliation, to make public confession of sin and implore the mercy of God to
avert the dreadful judgement which hung over their heads; and it is not to be
expressed with what alacrity the people of all persuasions embraced the
occasion; how they flocked to the churches and meetings, and they were all so
thronged that there was often no coming near, no, not to the very doors of the
largest churches. Also, there were daily prayers appointed morning and evening
at several churches, and days of private praying at other places; at all which
the people attended, I say, with an uncommon devotion. Several private families
also, as well of one opinion as of another, kept family fasts, to which they
admitted their near relations only. So that, in a word, those people who were serious
and religious applied themselves in a truly Christian manner to the proper work
of repentance and humiliation, as a Christian people ought to do.
Again, the public showed that they would bear their share in
these things; the very Court, which was then gay and luxurious, put on a face
of just concern for the public danger. All the plays and interludes which,
after the manner of the French Court, had been set up, and began to increase
among us, were forbid to act; the gaming-tables, public dancing-rooms, and
music-houses, which multiplied and began to debauch the manners of the people,
were shut up and suppressed; and the jack-puddings, merry-andrews, puppet-shows,
rope-dancers, and such-like doings, which had bewitched the poor common people,
shut up their shops, finding indeed no trade; for the minds of the people were
agitated with other things, and a kind of sadness and horror at these things
sat upon the countenances even of the common people. Death was before their
eyes, and everybody began to think of their graves, not of mirth and
diversions.
But even those wholesome reflections—which, rightly managed,
would have most happily led the people to fall upon their knees, make
confession of their sins, and look up to their merciful Savior for pardon,
imploring His compassion on them in such a time of their distress, by which we
might have been as a second Nineveh—had a quite contrary extreme in the common
people, who, ignorant and stupid in their reflections as they were brutishly
wicked and thoughtless before, were now led by their fright to extremes of
folly; and, as I have said before, that they ran to conjurers and witches, and
all sorts of deceivers, to know what should become of them (who fed their
fears, and kept them always alarmed and awake on purpose to delude them and
pick their pockets), so they were as mad upon their running after quacks and
mountebanks, and every practicing old woman, for medicines and remedies;
storing themselves with such multitudes of pills, potions, and preservatives,
as they were called, that they not only spent their money but even poisoned
themselves beforehand for fear of the poison of the infection; and prepared
their bodies for the plague, instead of preserving them against it. On the
other hand it is incredible and scarce to be imagined, how the posts of houses
and corners of streets were plastered over with doctors' bills and papers of
ignorant fellows, quacking and tampering in physic, and inviting the people to
come to them for remedies, which was generally set off with such flourishes as
these, viz.: 'Infallible preventive pills against the plague.' 'Never-failing
preservatives against the infection.' 'Sovereign cordials against the
corruption of the air.' 'Exact regulations for the conduct of the body in case
of an infection.' 'Anti-pestilential pills.' 'Incomparable drink against the
plague, never found out before.' 'A universal remedy for the plague.' 'The only
true plague water.' 'The royal antidote against all kinds of infection'; —and
such a number more that I cannot reckon up; and if I could, would fill a book
of themselves to set them down.
Others set up bills to summon people to their lodgings for
directions and advice in the case of infection. These had specious titles also,
such as these: —
'An eminent High Dutch physician, newly come over from
Holland, where he resided during all the time of the great plague last year in
Amsterdam, and cured multitudes of people that actually had the plague upon them.'
'An Italian gentlewoman just arrived from Naples, having a
choice secret to prevent infection, which she found out by her great experience,
and did wonderful cures with it in the late plague there, wherein there died
20,000 in one day.'
'An ancient gentlewoman, having practiced with great success
in the late plague in this city, anno 1636, gives her advice only to the female
sex. To be spoken with,' &c.
'An experienced physician, who has long studied the doctrine
of antidotes against all sorts of poison and infection, has, after forty years'
practice, arrived to such skill as may, with God's blessing, direct persons how
to prevent their being touched by any contagious distemper whatsoever. He
directs the poor gratis.'
I take notice of these by way of specimen. I could give you
two or three dozen of the like and yet have abundance left behind. Tic
sufficient from these to apprise any one of the humor of those times, and how a
set of thieves and pickpockets not only robbed and cheated the poor people of their
money, but poisoned their bodies with odious and fatal preparations; some with
mercury, and some with other things as bad, perfectly remote from the thing
pretended to, and rather hurtful than serviceable to the body in case an
infection followed.
I cannot omit a subtility of one of those quack operators,
with which he gulled the poor people to crowd about him but did nothing for
them without money. He had, it seems, added to his bills, which he gave about
the streets, this advertisement in capital letters, viz., 'He gives advice to
the poor for nothing.'
Abundance of poor people came to him accordingly, to whom he
made a great many fine speeches, examined them of the state of their health and
of the constitution of their bodies, and told them many good things for them to
do, which were of no great moment. But the issue and conclusion of all was,
that he had a preparation which if they took such a quantity of every morning,
he would pawn his life they should never have the plague; no, though they lived
in the house with people that were infected. This made the people all resolve
to have it; but then the price of that was so much, I think 'twas half-a-crown.
'But, sir,' says one poor woman, 'I am a poor almswoman and am kept by the
parish, and your bills say you give the poor your help for nothing.' 'Ay, good
woman,' says the doctor, 'so I do, as I published there. I give my advice to
the poor for nothing, but not my physic.' 'Alas, sir!' says she, 'that is a
snare laid for the poor, then; for you give them advice for nothing; that is to
say, you advise them gratis, to buy your physic for their money; so does every
shop-keeper with his wares.' Here the woman began to give him ill words, and
stood at his door all that day, telling her tale to all the people that came,
till the doctor finding she turned away his customers, was obliged to call her
upstairs again, and give her his box of physic for nothing, which perhaps, too,
was good for nothing when she had it.
But to return to the people, whose confusions fitted them to
be imposed upon by all sorts of pretenders and by every mountebank. There is no
doubt but these quacking sort of fellows raised great gains out of the
miserable people, for we daily found the crowds that ran after them were
infinitely greater, and their doors were more thronged than those of Dr Brooks,
Dr Upton, Dr Hodges, Dr Berwick, or any, though the most famous men of the time.
And I was told that some of them got five pounds a day by their physic.
But there was still another madness beyond all this, which
may serve to give an idea of the distracted humor of the poor people at that
time: and this was their following a worse sort of deceivers than any of these;
for these petty thieves only deluded them to pick their pockets and get their
money, in which their wickedness, whatever it was, lay chiefly on the side of
the deceivers, not upon the deceived. But in this part I am going to mention,
it lay chiefly in the people deceived, or equally in both; and this was in
wearing charms, philters, exorcisms, amulets, and I know not what preparations,
to fortify the body with them against the plague; as if the plague was not the
hand of God, but a kind of possession of an evil spirit, and that it was to be
kept off with crossings, signs of the zodiac, papers tied up with so many
knots, and certain words or figures written on them, as particularly the word
Abracadabra, formed in triangle or pyramid, thus:—
ABRACADABRA
ABRACADABR Others had the Jesuits'
ABRACADAB mark in a cross:
ABRACADA I H
ABRACAD S.
ABRACA
ABRAC Others nothing but this
ABRA mark, thus:
ABR
AB * *
A {*}
I might spend a great deal of time in my exclamations
against the follies, and indeed the wickedness, of those things, in a time of
such danger, in a matter of such consequences as this, of a national infection.
But my memorandums of these things relate rather to take notice only of the fact
and mention only that it was so. How the poor people found the insufficiency of
those things, and how many of them were afterwards carried away in the
dead-carts and thrown into the common graves of every parish with these hellish
charms and trumpery hanging about their necks, remains to be spoken of as we go
along.
All this was the effect of the hurry the people were in,
after the first notion of the plague being at hand was among them, and which
may be said to be from about Michaela's 1664, but more particularly after the
two men died in St Giles's in the beginning of December; and again, after
another alarm in February. For when the plague evidently spread itself, they
soon began to see the folly of trusting to those performing creatures who had gulled
them of their money; and then their fears worked another way, namely, to
amazement and stupidity, not knowing what course to take or what to do either
to help or relieve themselves. But they ran about from one neighbor's house to
another, and even in the streets from one door to another, with repeated cries
of, 'Lord, have mercy upon us! What shall we do?'
Indeed, the poor people were to be pitied in one particular
thing in which they had little or no relief, and which I desire to mention with
a serious awe and reflection, which perhaps every one that reads this may not
relish; namely, that whereas death now began not, as we may say, to hover over
every one's head only, but to look into their houses and chambers and stare in
their faces. Though there might be some stupidity and dullness of the mind (and
there was so, a great deal), yet there was a great deal of just alarm sounded
into the very inmost soul, if I may so say, of others. Many consciences were
awakened; many hard hearts melted into tears; many a penitent confession was
made of crimes long concealed. It would wound the soul of any Christian to have
heard the dying groans of many a despairing creature, and none durst come near
to comfort them. Many a robbery, many a murder, was then confessed aloud, and
nobody surviving to record the accounts of it. People might be heard, even into
the streets as we passed along, calling upon God for mercy through Jesus
Christ, and saying, 'I have been a thief, 'I have been an adulterer', 'I have
been a murderer', and the like, and none durst stop to make the least inquiry
into such things or to administer comfort to the poor creatures that in the
anguish both of soul and body thus cried out. Some of the ministers did visit
the sick at first and for a little while, but it was not to be done. It would
have been present death to have gone into some houses. The very buriers of the
dead, who were the hardened Est creatures in town, were sometimes beaten back
and so terrified that they durst not go into houses where the whole families
were swept away together, and where the circumstances were more particularly
horrible, as some were; but this was, indeed, at the first heat of the
distemper.
Time inured them to it all, and they ventured everywhere
afterwards without hesitation, as I shall have occasion to mention at large
hereafter.
I am supposing now the plague to be begun, as I have said,
and that the magistrates began to take the condition of the people into their
serious consideration. What they did as to the regulation of the inhabitants
and of infected families, I shall speak to by itself; but as to the affair of
health, it is proper to mention it here that, having seen the foolish humor of
the people in running after quacks and mountebanks, wizards and fortune-tellers,
which they did as above, even to madness, the Lord Mayor, a very sober and
religious gentleman, appointed physicians and surgeons for relief of the poor—I
mean the diseased poor and in particular ordered the College of Physicians to
publish directions for cheap remedies for the poor, in all the circumstances of
the distemper. This, indeed, was one of the most charitable and judicious
things that could be done at that time, for this drove the people from haunting
the doors of every disperser of bills, and from taking down blindly and without
consideration poison for physic and death instead of life.
This direction of the physicians was done by a consultation
of the whole College; and, as it was particularly calculated for the use of the
poor and for cheap medicines, it was made public, so that everybody might see
it, and copies were given gratis to all that desired it. But as it is public,
and to be seen on all occasions, I need not give the reader of this the trouble
of it.
I shall not be supposed to lessen the authority or capacity
of the physicians when I say that the violence of the distemper, when it came
to its extremity, was like the fire the next year. The fire, which consumed
what the plague could not touch, defied all the application of remedies; the
fire-engines were broken, the buckets thrown away, and the power of man was
baffled and ended. So the Plague defied all medicines; the very physicians were
seized with it, with their preservatives in their mouths; and men went about
prescribing to others and telling them what to do till the tokens were upon
them, and they dropped down dead, destroyed by that very enemy they directed
others to oppose. This was the case of several physicians, even some of them
the most eminent, and of several of the most skillful surgeons. Abundance of
quacks too died, who had the folly to trust to their own medicines, which they
must needs be conscious to themselves were good for nothing, and who rather
ought, like other sorts of thieves, to have run away, sensible of their guilt,
from the justice that they could not but expect should punish them as they knew
they had deserved.
Not that it is any derogation from the labor or application
of the physicians to say they fell in the common calamity; nor is it so intended
by me; it rather is to their praise that they ventured their lives so far as
even to lose them in the service of mankind. They endeavored to do good, and to
save the lives of others. But we were not to expect that the physicians could
stop God's judgements, or prevent a distemper eminently armed from heaven from
executing the errand it was sent about.
Doubtless, the physicians assisted many by their skill, and
by their prudence and applications, to the saving of their lives and restoring
their health. But it is not lessening their character or their skill, to say
they could not cure those that had the tokens upon them, or those who were
mortally infected before the physicians were sent for, as was frequently the
case.
It remains to mention now what public measures were taken by
the magistrates for the general safety, and to prevent the spreading of the
distemper, when it first broke out. I shall have frequent occasion to speak of
the prudence of the magistrates, their charity, their vigilance for the poor,
and for preserving good order, furnishing provisions, and the like, when the
plague was increased, as it afterwards was. But I am now upon the order and
regulations they published for the government of infected families.
I mentioned above shutting of houses up; and it is needful
to say something particularly to that, for this part of the history of the
plague is very melancholy, but the most grievous story must be told.
About June the Lord Mayor of London and the Court of
Aldermen, as I have said, began more particularly to concern themselves for the
regulation of the city.
The justices of Peace for Middlesex, by direction of the
Secretary of State, had begun to shut up houses in the parishes of St
Giles-in-the-Fields, St Martin, St Clement Danes, &c., and it was with good
success; for in several streets where the plague broke out, upon strict
guarding the houses that were infected, and taking care to bury those that died
immediately after they were known to be dead, the plague ceased in those
streets. It was also observed that the plague decreased sooner in those
parishes after they had been visited to the full than it did in the parishes of
Bishopsgate, Shore ditch, Landgate, Whitechapel, Stoney, and others; the early
care taken in that manner being a great means to the putting a check to it.
This shutting up of houses was a method first taken, as I
understand, in the plague which happened in 1603, at the coming of King James
the First to the crown; and the power of shutting people up in their own houses
was granted by Act of Parliament, entitled, 'An Act for the charitable Relief
and Ordering of Persons infected with the Plague'; on which Act of Parliament
the Lord Mayor and aldermen of the city of London founded the order they made
at this time, and which took place the 1st of July 1665, when the numbers
infected within the city were but few, the last bill for the ninety-two
parishes being but four; and some houses having been shut up in the city, and
some people being removed to the pest-house beyond Bunhill Fields, in the way
to Islington,—I say, by these means, when there died near one thousand a week
in the whole, the number in the city was but twenty-eight, and the city was
preserved more healthy in proportion than any other place all the time of the
infection.
These orders of my Lord Mayors were published, as I have
said, the latter end of June, and took place from the 1st of July, and were as
follows, viz.: —
ORDERS CONCEIVED AND PUBLISHED BY THE LORD MAYOR AND
ALDERMEN OF THE CITY OF LONDON CONCERNING THE INFECTION OF THE PLAGUE, 1665.
'WHEREAS in the reign of our late Sovereign King James, of
happy memory, an Act was made for the charitable relief and ordering of persons
infected with the plague, whereby authority was given to justices of the peace,
mayors, bailiffs, and other head-officers to appoint within their several
limits examiners, searchers, watchmen, keepers, and buriers for the persons and
places infected, and to minister unto them oaths for the performance of their
offices. And the same statute did also authorize the giving of other
directions, as unto them for the present necessity should seem good in their
directions. It is now, upon special consideration, thought very expedient for
preventing and avoiding of infection of sickness (if it shall so please
Almighty God) that these officers following be appointed, and these orders
hereafter duly observed.
Examiners to be appointed in every Parish.
'First, it is thought requisite, and so ordered, that in
every parish there be one, two, or more persons of good sort and credit chosen
and appointed by the alderman, his deputy, and common council of every ward, by
the name of examiners, to continue in that office the space of two months at
least. And if any fit person so appointed shall refuse to undertake the same,
the said parties so refusing to be committed to prison until they shall conform
themselves accordingly.
The Examiner's Office.
'That these examiners be sworn by the aldermen to inquire
and learn from time to time what houses in every parish be visited, and what
persons be sick, and of what diseases, as near as they can inform themselves;
and upon doubt in that case, to command restraint of access until it appear
what the disease shall prove. And if they find any person sick of the infection,
to give order to the constable that the house be shut up; and if the constable
shall be found remiss or negligent, to give present notice thereof to the
alderman of the ward.
Watchmen.
'That to every infected house there be appointed two
watchmen, one for every day, and the other for the night; and that these
watchmen have a special care that no person go in or out of such infected
houses whereof they have the charge, upon pain of severe punishment. And the
said watchmen to do such further offices as the sick house shall need and
require: and if the watchman be sent upon any business, to lock up the house
and take the key with him; and the watchman by day to attend until ten of the
clock at night, and the watchman by night until six in the morning.
Searchers.
'That there be a special care to appoint women searchers in
every parish, such as are of honest reputation, and of the best sort as can be
got in this kind; and these to be sworn to make due search and true report to
the utmost of their knowledge whether the persons whose bodies they are
appointed to search do die of the infection, or of what other diseases, as near
as they can. And that the physicians who shall be appointed for cure and
prevention of the infection do call before them the said searchers who are, or
shall be, appointed for the several parishes under their respective cares, to
the end they may consider whether they are fitly qualified for that employment,
and charge them from time to time as they shall see cause, if they appear
defective in their duties.
'That no searcher during this time of visitation be
permitted to use any public work or employment, or keep any shop or stall, or
be employed as a laundress, or in any other common employment whatsoever.
Chirurgeons.
'For better assistance of the searchers, forasmuch as there
hath been heretofore great abuse in misreporting the disease, to the further
spreading of the infection, it is therefore ordered that there be chosen and
appointed able and discreet chirurgeons, besides those that do already belong
to the pest-house, amongst whom the city and Liberties to be quartered as the
places lie most apt and convenient; and every of these to have one quarter for
his limit; and the said chirurgeons in every of their limits to join with the
searchers for the view of the body, to the end there may be a true report made
of the disease.
'And further, that the said chirurgeons shall visit and
search such-like persons as shall either send for them or be named and directed
unto them by the examiners of every parish and inform themselves of the disease
of the said parties.
'And forasmuch as the said chirurgeons are to be sequestered
from all other cures, and kept only to this disease of the infection, it is
ordered that every of the said chirurgeons shall have twelve-pence a body
searched by them, to be paid out of the goods of the party searched, if he be
able, or otherwise by the parish.
Nurse-keepers.
'If any nurse-keeper shall remove herself out of any
infected house before twenty-eight days after the decease of any person dying
of the infection, the house to which the said nurse-keeper doth so remove
herself shall be shut up until the said twenty-eight days be expired.'
ORDERS CONCERNING INFECTED HOUSES AND PERSONS SICK OF THE
PLAGUE.
Notice to be given of the Sickness.
'The master of every house, as soon as anyone in his house complained,
either of blotch or purple, or swelling in any part of his body, or fillet
otherwise dangerously sick, without apparent cause of some other disease, shall
give knowledge thereof to the examiner of health within two hours after the
said sign shall appear.
Sequestration of the Sick.
'As soon as any man shall be found by this examiner,
chirurgeon, or searcher to be sick of the plague, he shall the same night be
sequestered in the same house; and in case he be so sequestered, then though he
afterwards die not, the house wherein he sickened should be shut up for a
month, after the use of the due preservatives taken by the rest.
Airing the Stuff.
'For sequestration of the goods and stuff of the infection,
their bedding and apparel and hangings of chambers must be well aired with fire
and such perfumes as are requisite within the infected house before they be
taken again to use. This to be done by the appointment of an examiner.
Shutting up of the House.
'If any person shall have visited any man known to be
infected of the plague, or entered willingly into any known infected house,
being not allowed, the house wherein he inhabited shall be shut up for certain
days by the examiner's direction.
None to be removed out of infected Houses, but, &C.
'Item, that none be removed out of the house where he fillet
sick of the infection into any other house in the city (except it be to the
pest-house or a tent, or unto some such house which the owner of the said
visited house Hildreth in his own hands and occupied by his own servants); and
so as security be given to the parish whither such remove is made, that the
attendance and charge about the said visited persons shall be observed and
charged in all the particularities before expressed, without any cost of that
parish to which any such remove shall happen to be made, and this remove to be
done by night. And it shall be lawful to any person that hath two houses to
remove either his sound or his infected people to his spare house at his
choice, so as, if he send away first his sound, he not after send thither his
sick, nor again unto the sick the sound; and that the same which he sanded be
for one week at the least shut up and secluded from company, for fear of some
infection at the first not appearing.
Burial of the Dead.
'That the burial of the dead by this visitation be at most
convenient hours, always either before sun-rising or after sun-setting, with
the privity of the churchwardens or constable, and not otherwise; and that no neighbors
nor friends be suffered to accompany the corpse to church, or to enter the
house visited, upon pain of having his house shut up or be imprisoned.
'And that no corpse dying of infection shall be buried or
remain in any church in time of common prayer, sermon, or lecture. And that no
children be suffered at time of burial of any corpse in any church, churchyard,
or burying place to come near the corpse, coffin, or grave. And that all the
graves shall be at least six feet deep.
'And further, all public assemblies at other burials are to
be forborne during the continuance of this visitation.
No infected Stuff to be uttered.
'That no clothes, stuff, bedding, or garments be suffered to
be carried or conveyed out of any infected houses, and that the criers and
carriers abroad of bedding or old apparel to be sold or pawned be utterly
prohibited and restrained, and no brokers of bedding or old apparel be
permitted to make any outward show, or hang forth on their stalls, shop-boards,
or windows, towards any street, lane, common way, or passage, any old bedding
or apparel to be sold, upon pain of imprisonment. And if any broker or other
person shall buy any bedding, apparel, or other stuff out of any infected house
within two months after the infection hath been there, his house shall be shut
up as infected, and so shall continue shut up twenty days at the least.
No Person to be conveyed out of any infected House.
'If any person visited do fortune, by negligent looking
unto, or by any other means, to come or be conveyed from a place infected to
any other place, the parish from whence such party hath come or been conveyed,
upon notice thereof given, shall at their charge cause the said party so
visited and escaped to be carried and brought back again by night, and the
parties in this case offending to be punished at the direction of the alderman
of the ward, and the house of the receiver of such visited person to be shut up
for twenty days.
Every visited House to be marked.
'That every house visited be marked with a red cross of a
foot long in the middle of the door, evident to be seen, and with these usual
printed words, that is to say, "Lord, have mercy upon us," to be set
close over the same cross, there to continue until lawful opening of the same
house.
Every visited House to be watched.
'That the constables see every house shut up, and to be
attended with watchmen, which may keep them in, and minister necessaries unto
them at their own charges, if they be able, or at the common charge, if they
are unable; the shutting up to be for the space of four weeks after all be
whole.
'That precise order to be taken that the searchers,
chirurgeons, keepers, and buriers are not to pass the streets without holding a
red rod or wand of three feet in length in their hands, open and evident to be
seen, and are not to go into any other house than into their own, or into that
whereunto they are directed or sent for; but to forbear and abstain from
company, especially when they have been lately used in any such business or
attendance.
Inmates.
'That where several inmates are in one and the same house,
and any person in that house happens to be infected, no other person or family
of such house shall be suffered to remove him or themselves without a
certificate from the examiners of health of that parish; or in default thereof,
the house whither he or they so remove shall be shut up as in case of
visitation.
Hackney-Coaches.
'That care be taken of hackney-coachmen, that they may not
(as some of them have been observed to do after carrying of infected persons to
the pest-house and other places) be admitted to common use till their coaches
be well aired, and have stood unemployed by the space of five or six days after
such service.'
ORDERS FOR CLEANSING AND KEEPING OF THE STREETS SWEPT.
The Streets to be kept Clean.
'First, it is thought necessary, and so ordered, that every
householder do cause the street to be daily prepared before his door, and so to
keep it clean swept all the weeklong.
That Racers take it from out the Houses.
'That the sweeping and filth of houses be daily carried away
by the racers, and that the racer shall give notice of his coming by the
blowing of a horn, as hitherto hath been done.
Lay stalls to be made far off from the City.
'That the lay stalls be removed as far as may be out of the
city and common passages, and that no nightman or other be suffered to empty a
vault into any garden near about the city.
Care to be had of unwholesome Fish or Flesh, and of musty
Corn.
'That special care be taken that no stinking fish, or
unwholesome flesh, or musty corn, or other corrupt fruits of what sort sever,
be suffered to be sold about the city, or any part of the same.
'That the brewers and tippling-houses be looked into for musty
and unwholesome casks.
'That no hogs, dogs, or cats, or tame pigeons, or ponies, be
suffered to be kept within any part of the city, or any swine to be or stray in
the streets or lanes, but that such swine be impounded by the beadle or any
other officer, and the owner punished according to Act of Common Council, and
that the dogs be killed by the dog-killers appointed for that purpose.'
ORDERS CONCERNING LOOSE PERSONS AND IDLE ASSEMBLIES.
Beggars.
'Forasmuch as nothing is more complained of than the multitude
of rogues and wandering beggars that swarm in every place about the city, being
a great cause of the spreading of the infection, and will not be avoided,
notwithstanding any orders that have been given to the contrary: It is
therefore now ordered, that such constables, and others whom this matter may
any way concern, take special care that no wandering beggars be suffered in the
streets of this city in any fashion or manner whatsoever, upon the penalty
provided by the law, to be duly and severely executed upon them.
Plays.
'That all plays, bearbaiting, games, singing of ballads,
buckler-play, or such-like causes of assemblies of people be utterly
prohibited, and the parties offending severely punished by every alderman in
his ward.
Feasting prohibited.
'That all public feasting, and particularly by the companies
of this city, and dinners at taverns, ale-houses, and other places of common
entertainment, be forborne till further order and allowance; and that the money
thereby spared be preserved and employed for the benefit and relief of the poor
visited with the infection.
Tippling-houses.
'That disorderly tippling in taverns, ale-houses,
coffee-houses, and cellars be severely looked unto, as the common sin of this
time and greatest occasion of dispersing the plague. And that no company or
person be suffered to remain or come into any tavern, ale-house, or
coffee-house to drink after nine of the clock in the evening, according to the
ancient law and custom of this city, upon the penalties ordained in that
behalf.
'And for the better execution of these orders, and such
other rules and directions as, upon further consideration, shall be found
needful: It is ordered and enjoined that the aldermen, deputies, and common
councilmen shall meet together weekly, once, twice, thrice or oftener (as cause
shall require), at someone general place accustomed in their respective wards
(being clear from infection of the plague), to consult how the said orders may
be duly put in execution; not intending that any dwelling in or near places
infected shall come to the said meeting while their coming may be doubtful. And
the said aldermen, and deputies, and common councilmen in their several wards
may put in execution any other good orders that by them at their said meetings
shall be conceived and devised for preservation of his Majesty's subjects from
the infection.
'SIR JOHN LAWRENCE, Lord Mayor.
SIR GEORGE WATERMAN
SIR CHARLES DOE, Sheriffs.'
I need not say that these orders extended only to such
places as were within the Lord Mayor's jurisdiction, so it is requisite to
observe that the justices of Peace within those parishes and places as were
called the Hamlets and out-parts took the same method. As I remember, the
orders for shutting up of houses did not take Place so soon on our side,
because, as I said before, the plague did not reach to these eastern parts of
the town at least, nor begin to be very violent, till the beginning of August.
For example, the whole bill from the 11th to the 18th of July was 1761, yet
there died but 71 of the plague in all those parishes we call the Tower
Hamlets, and they were as follows: —
- The next week and to the 1st
- was thus: of Aug. thus:
Landgate 14 34 65
Stoney 33 58 76
Whitechapel 21 48 79
St Katherine,
Tower 2 4 4
Trinity, Minorizes 1 1 4
- —- —- —-
- 71
145 228
It was indeed coming on again, for the burials that same
week were in the next adjoining parishes thus: —
- The next week
-
prodigiously to the 1st of
- increased,
as: Aug. thus:
St Leonard's, Shore
ditch 64 84 110
St Botolph's,
Bishopsgate 65 105 116
St Giles's, Cripple
gate 213 421 554
- —- —- —-
- 342 610 780
This shutting up of houses was at first counted a very cruel
and unchristian method, and the poor people so confined made bitter
lamentations. Complaints of the severity of it were also daily brought to my
Lord Mayor, of houses causelessly (and some maliciously) shut up. I cannot say;
but upon inquiry many that complained so loudly were found in a condition to be
continued; and others again, inspection being made upon the sick person, and
the sickness not appearing infectious, or if uncertain, yet on his being
content to be carried to the pest-house, were released.
It is true that the locking up the doors of people's houses,
and setting a watchman there night and day to prevent their stirring out or any
coming to them, when perhaps the sound people in the family might have escaped
if they had been removed from the sick, looked very hard and cruel; and many
people perished in these miserable confinements which, 'tis reasonable to
believe, would not have been distempered if they had had liberty, though the
plague was in the house; at which the people were very clamorous and uneasy at
first, and several violence's were committed and injuries offered to the men
who were set to watch the houses so shut up; also several people broke out by
force in many places, as I shall observe by-and-by. But it was a public good
that justified the private mischief, and there was no obtaining the least
mitigation by any application to magistrates or government at that time, at
least not that I heard of. This put the people upon all manner of stratagem in
order, if possible, to get out; and it would fill a little volume to set down
the arts used by the people of such houses to shut the eyes of the watchmen who
were employed, to deceive them, and to escape or break out from them, in which
frequent scuffles and some mischief happened; of which by itself.
As I went along Houndsditch one morning about eight o'clock
there was a great noise. It is true, indeed, there was not much crowd, because
people were not very free to gather, or to stay long together when they were
there; nor did I stay long there. But the outcry was loud enough to prompt my
curiosity, and I called to one that looked out of a window and asked what the
matter was.
A watchman, it seems, had been employed to keep his post at
the door of a house which was infected, or said to be infected, and was shut
up. He had been there all night for two nights together, as he told his story,
and the day-watchman had been there one day and was now come to relieve him.
All this while no noise had been heard in the house, no light had been seen;
they called for nothing, sent him of no errands, which used to be the chief
business of the watchmen; neither had they given him any disturbance, as he
said, from the Monday afternoon, when he heard great crying and screaming in
the house, which, as he supposed, was occasioned by some of the family dying
just at that time. It seems, the night before, the dead-cart, as it was called,
had been stopped there, and a servant-maid had been brought down to the door
dead, and the buriers or bearers, as they were called, put her into the cart, wrap
only in a green rug, and carried her away.
The watchman had knocked at the door, it seems, when he
heard that noise and crying, as above, and nobody answered a great while; but
at last one looked out and said with an angry, quick tone, and yet a kind of
crying voice, or a voice of one that was crying, 'What dye want, that ye make
such a knocking?' He answered, 'I am the watchman! How do you do? What is the
matter?' The person answered, 'What is that to you? Stop the dead-cart.' This,
it seems, was about one o'clock. Soon after, as the fellow said, he stopped the
dead-cart, and then knocked again, but nobody answered. He continued knocking,
and the bellman called out several times, 'Bring out your dead'; but nobody
answered, till the man that drove the cart, being called to other houses, would
stay no longer, and drove away.
The watchman knew not what to make of all this, so he let
them alone till the morning-man or day-watchman, as they called him, came to
relieve him. Giving him an account of the particulars, they knocked at the door
a great while, but nobody answered; and they observed that the window or
casement at which the person had looked out who had answered before continued
open, being up two pair of stairs.
Upon this the two men, to satisfy their curiosity, got a
long ladder, and one of them went up to the window and looked into the room,
where he saw a woman lying dead upon the floor in a dismal manner, having no
clothes on her but her shift. But though he called aloud, and putting in his
long staff, knocked hard on the floor, yet nobody stirred or answered; neither
could he hear any noise in the house.
He came down again upon this, and acquainted his fellow, who
went up also; and finding it just so, they resolved to acquaint either the Lord
Mayor or some other magistrate of it, but did not offer to go in at the window.
The magistrate, it seems, upon the information of the two men, ordered the
house to be broke open, a constable and other persons being appointed to be
present, that nothing might be plundered; and accordingly it was so done, when
nobody was found in the house but that young woman, who having been infected
and past recovery, the rest had left her to die by herself, and were every one
gone, having found some way to delude the watchman, and to get open the door,
or get out at some back-door, or over the tops of the houses, so that he knew
nothing of it; and as to those cries and shrieks which he heard, it was
supposed they were the passionate cries of the family at the bitter parting,
which, to be sure, it was to them all, this being the sister to the mistress of
the family. The man of the house, his wife, several children, and servants,
being all gone and fled, whether sick or sound, that I could never learn; nor,
indeed, did I make much inquiry after it.
Many such escapes were made out of infected houses, as
particularly when the watchman was sent of some errand; for it was his business
to go of any errand that the family sent him of; that is to say, for
necessaries, such as food and physic; to fetch physicians, if they would come,
or surgeons, or nurses, or to order the dead-cart, and the like; but with this
condition, too, that when he went he was to lock up the outer door of the house
and take the key away with him, To evade this, and cheat the watchmen, people
got two or three keys made to their locks, or they found ways to unscrew the
locks such as were screwed on, and so take off the lock, being in the inside of
the house, and while they sent away the watchman to the market, to the
bakehouse, or for one trifle or another, open the door and go out as often as
they pleased. But this being found out, the officers afterwards had orders to
padlock up the doors on the outside, and place bolts on them as they thought
fit.
At another house, as I was informed, in the street next
within Landgate, a whole family was shut up and locked in because the maidservant
was taken sick. The master of the house had complained by his friends to the
next alderman and to the Lord Mayor, and had consented to have the maid carried
to the pest-house, but was refused; so the door was marked with a red cross, a
padlock on the outside, as above, and a watchman set to keep the door,
according to public order.
After the master of the house found there was no remedy, but
that he, his wife, and his children were to be locked up with this poor
distempered servant, he called to the watchman, and told him he must go then
and fetch a nurse for them to attend this poor girl, for that it would be
certain death to them all to oblige them to nurse her; and told him plainly
that if he would not do this, the maid must perish either of the distemper or
be starved for want of food, for he was resolved none of his family should go
near her; and she lay in the garret four story high, where she could not cry
out, or call to anybody for help.
The watchman consented to that, and went and fetched a
nurse, as he was appointed, and brought her to them the same evening. During
this interval the master of the house took his opportunity to break a large
hole through his shop into a bulk or stall, where formerly a cobbler had sat,
before or under his shop-window; but the tenant, as may be supposed at such a
dismal time as that, was dead or removed, and so he had the key in his own
keeping. Having made his way into this stall, which he could not have done if
the man had been at the door, the noise he was obliged to make being such as
would have alarmed the watchman; I say, having made his way into this stall, he
sat still till the watchman returned with the nurse, and all the next day also.
But the night following, having contrived to send the watchman of another
trifling errand, which, as I take it, was to an apothecary's for a plaster for
the maid, which he was to stay for the making up, or some other such errand
that might secure his staying some time; in that time he conveyed himself and
all his family out of the house, and left the nurse and the watchman to bury
the poor wench—that is, throw her into the cart—and take care of the house.
I could give a great many such stories as these, diverting
enough, which in the long course of that dismal year I met with—that is, heard
of—and which are very certain to be true, or very near the truth; that is to
say, true in the general: for no man could at such a time learn all the
particulars. There was likewise violence used with the watchmen, as was
reported, in abundance of places; and I believe that from the beginning of the
visitation to the end, there was not less than eighteen or twenty of them
killed, or so wounded as to be taken up for dead, which was supposed to be done
by the people in the infected houses which were shut up, and where they
attempted to come out and were opposed.
Nor, indeed, could less be expected, for here were so many
prisons in the town as there were houses shut up; and as the people shut up or
imprisoned so were guilty of no crime, only shut up because miserable, it was
really the more intolerable to them.
It had also this difference, that every prison, as we may
call it, had but one jailer, and as he had the whole house to guard, and that
many houses were so situated as that they had several ways out, some more, some
less, and some into several streets, it was impossible for one man so to guard
all the passages as to prevent the escape of people made desperate by the
fright of their circumstances, by the resentment of their usage, or by the
raging of the distemper itself; so that they would talk to the watchman on one
side of the house, while the family made their escape at another.
For example, in Coleman Street there are abundance of
alleys, as appears still. A house was shut up in that they call White's Alley;
and this house had a back-window, not a door, into a court which had a passage
into Bell Alley. A watchman was set by the constable at the door of this house,
and there he stood, or his comrade, night and day, while the family went all
away in the evening out at that window into the court, and left the poor
fellows warding and watching for near a fortnight.
Not far from the same place they blew up a watchman with
gunpowder, and burned the poor fellow dreadfully; and while he made hideous
cries, and nobody would venture to come near to help him, the whole family that
were able to stir got out at the windows one story high, two that were left
sick calling out for help. Care was taken to give them nurses to look after
them, but the persons fled were never found, till after the plague was abated,
they returned; but as nothing could be proved, so nothing could be done to
them.
It is to be considered, too, that as these were prisons
without bars and bolts, which our common prisons are furnished with, so the
people let themselves down out of their windows, even in the face of the
watchman, bringing swords or pistols in their hands, and threatening the poor
wretch to shoot him if he stirred or called for help.
In other cases, some had gardens, and walls or pales,
between them and their neighbors, or yards and back-houses; and these, by friendship
and entreaties, would get leave to get over those walls or pales, and so go out
at their neighbors' doors; or, by giving money to their servants, get them to
let them through in the night; so that in short, the shutting up of houses was
in no wise to be depended upon. Neither did it answer the end at all, serving
more to make the people desperate, and drive them to such extremities as that they
would break out at all adventures.
And that which was still worse, those that did thus break
out spread the infection farther by their wandering about with the distemper
upon them, in their desperate circumstances, than they would otherwise have
done; for whoever considers all the particulars in such cases must acknowledge,
and we cannot doubt but the severity of those confinements made many people
desperate, and made them run out of their houses at all hazards, and with the
plague visibly upon them, not knowing either whither to go or what to do, or,
indeed, what they did; and many that did so were driven to dreadful exigencies
and extremities, and perished in the streets or fields for mere want, or
dropped down by the raging violence of the fever upon them. Others wandered
into the country, and went forward any way, as their desperation guided them,
not knowing whether they went or would go: till, faint and tired, and not
getting any relief, the houses and villages on the road refusing to admit them
to lodge whether infected or no, they have perished by the roadside or gotten
into barns and died there, none daring to come to them or relieve them, though
perhaps not infected, for nobody would believe them.
On the other hand, when the plague at first seized a family
that is to say, when anybody of the family had gone out and unwarily or
otherwise catcher the distemper and brought it home—it was certainly known by
the family before it was known to the officers, who, as you will see by the
order, were appointed to examine into the circumstances of all sick persons
when they heard of their being sick.
In this interval, between their being taken sick and the
examiners coming, the master of the house had leisure and liberty to remove
himself or all his family, if he knew whither to go, and many did so. But the
great disaster was that many did thus after they were really infected
themselves, and so carried the disease into the houses of those who were so
hospitable as to receive them, which, it must be confessed, was very cruel and
ungrateful.
And this was in part the reason of the general notion, or
scandal rather, which went about of the temper of people infected: namely, that
they did not take the least care or make any scruple of infecting others,
though I cannot say but there might be some truth in it too, but not so general
as was reported. What natural reason could be given for so wicked a thing at a
time when they might conclude themselves just going to appear at the bar of
Divine justice I know not. I am very well satisfied that it cannot be
reconciled to religion and principle any more than it can be to generosity and
Humanity, but I may speak of that again.
I am speaking now of people made desperate by the
apprehensions of their being shut up, and their breaking out by stratagem or
force, either before or after they were shut up, whose misery was not lessened
when they were out, but sadly increased. On the other hand, many that thus got
away had retreats to go to and other houses, where they locked themselves up
and kept hid till the plague was over; and many families, foreseeing the
approach of the distemper, laid up stores of provisions sufficient for their
whole families, and shut themselves up, and that so entirely that they were
neither seen or heard of till the infection was quite ceased, and then came
abroad sound and well. I might recollect several such as these, and give you
the particulars of their management; for doubtless it was the most effectual
secure step that could be taken for such whose circumstances would not admit
them to remove, or who had not retreats abroad proper for the case; for in
being thus shut up they were as if they had been a hundred miles off. Nor do I
remember that any one of those families miscarried. Among these, several Dutch
merchants were particularly remarkable, who kept their houses like little
garrisons besieged suffering none to go in or out or come near them,
particularly one in a court in Throgmorton Street whose house investigated
Draper's Garden.
But I come back to the case of families infected and shut up
by the magistrates. The misery of those families is not to be expressed; and it
was generally in such houses that we heard the most dismal shrieks and outcries
of the poor people, terrified and even freighted to death by the sight of the
condition of their dearest relations, and by the terror of being imprisoned as
they were.
I remember, and while I am writing this story I think I hear
the very sound of it, a certain lady had an only daughter, a young maiden about
nineteen years old, and who was possessed of a very considerable fortune. They
were only lodgers in the house where they were. The young woman, her mother,
and the maid had been abroad on some occasion, I do not remember what, for the
house was not shut up; but about two hours after they came home the young lady
complained she was not well; in a quarter of an hour more she vomited and had a
violent pain in her head. 'Pray God', says her mother, in a terrible fright,
'my child has not the distemper!' The pain in her head increasing, her mother
ordered the bed to be warmed, and resolved to put her to bed, and prepared to
give her things to sweat, which was the ordinary remedy to be taken when the
first apprehensions of the distemper began.
While the bed was airing the mother undressed the young
woman, and just as she was laid down in the bed, she, looking upon her body with
a candle, immediately discovered the fatal tokens on the inside of her thighs.
Her mother, not being able to contain herself, threw down her candle and
shrieked out in such a frightful manner that it was enough to place horror upon
the stoutest heart in the world; nor was it one scream or one cry, but the
fright having seized her spirits, she—fainted first, then recovered, then ran
all over the house, up the stairs and down the stairs, like one distracted, and
indeed really was distracted, and continued screeching and crying out for
several hours void of all sense, or at least government of her senses, and, as
I was told, never came thoroughly to herself again. As to the young maiden, she
was a dead corpse from that moment, for the gangrene which occasions the spots
had spread [over] her whole body, and she died in less than two hours. But
still the mother continued crying out, not knowing anything more of her child,
several hours after she was dead. It is so long ago that I am not certain, but
I think the mother never recovered, but died in two or three weeks after.
This was an extraordinary case, and I am therefore the more
particular in it, because I came so much to the knowledge of it; but there were
innumerable such-like cases, and it was seldom that the weekly bill came in but
there were two or three put in, 'freighted'; that is, that may well be called freighted
to death. But besides those who were so freighted as to die upon the spot,
there were great numbers freighted to other extremes, some freighted out of
their senses, some out of their memory, and some out of their understanding.
But I return to the shutting up of houses.
As several people, I say, got out of their houses by
stratagem after they were shut up, so others got out by bribing the watchmen,
and giving them money to let them go privately out in the night. I must confess
I thought it at that time the most innocent corruption or bribery that any man
could be guilty of, and therefore could not but pity the poor men, and think it
was hard when three of those watchmen were publicly whipped through the streets
for suffering people to go out of houses shut up.
But notwithstanding that severity, money prevailed with the
poor men, and many families found means to make sallies out, and escape that
way after they had been shut up; but these were generally such as had some
places to retire to; and though there was no easy passing the roads any whither
after the 1st of August, yet there were many ways of retreat, and particularly,
as I hinted, some got tents and set them up in the fields, carrying beds or
straw to lie on, and provisions to eat, and so lived in them as hermits in a
cell, for nobody would venture to come near them; and several stories were told
of such, some comical, some tragical, some who lived like wandering pilgrims in
the deserts, and escaped by making themselves exiles in such a manner as is
scarce to be credited, and who yet enjoyed more liberty than was to be expected
in such cases.
I have by me a story of two brothers and their kinsman, who
being single men, but that had stayed in the city too long to get away, and
indeed not knowing where to go to have any retreat, nor having wherewith to
travel far, took a course for their own preservation, which though in itself at
first desperate, yet was so natural that it may be wondered that no more did so
at that time. They were but of mean condition, and yet not so very poor as that
they could not furnish themselves with some little conveniences such as might
serve to keep life and soul together; and finding the distemper increasing in a
terrible manner, they resolved to shift as well as they could, and to be gone.
One of them had been a soldier in the late wars, and before
that in the Low Countries, and having been bred to no particular employment but
his arms, and besides being wounded, and not able to work very hard, had for
some time been employed at a baker's of sea-biscuit in Wrapping.
The brother of this man was a seaman too, but somehow or
other had been hurt of one leg, that he could not go to sea, but had worked for
his living at a sailmaker's in Wrapping, or thereabouts; and being a good
husband, had laid up some money, and was the richest of the three.
The third man was a joiner or carpenter by trade, a handy
fellow, and he had no wealth but his box or basket of tools, with the help of
which he could at any time get his living, such a time as this excepted,
wherever he went—and he lived near Shadwell.
They all lived in Stoney parish, which, as I have said,
being the last that was infected, or at least violently, they stayed there till
they evidently saw the plague was abating at the west part of the town, and
coming towards the east, where they lived.
The story of those three men, if the reader will be content
to have me give it in their own persons, without taking upon me to either vouch
the particulars or answer for any mistakes, I shall give as distinctly as I
can, believing the history will be a very good pattern for any poor man to
follow, in case the like public desolation should happen here; and if there may
be no such occasion, which God of His infinite mercy grant us, still the story
may have its uses so many ways as that it will, I hope, never be said that the
relating has been unprofitable.
I say all this before the history, having yet, for the
present, much more to say before I quit my own part.
I went all the first part of the time freely about the
streets, though not so freely as to run myself into apparent danger, except
when they dug the great pit in the churchyard of our parish of Landgate. A
terrible pit it was, and I could not resist my curiosity to go and see it. As
near as I may judge, it was about forty feet in length, and about fifteen or
sixteen feet broad, and at the time I first looked at it, about nine feet deep;
but it was said they dug it near twenty feet deep afterwards in one part of it,
till they could go no deeper for the water; for they had, it seems, dug several
large pits before this. For though the plague was long a-coming to our parish,
yet, when it did come, there was no parish in or about London where it raged
with such violence as in the two parishes of Landgate and Whitechapel.
I say they had dug several pits in another ground, when the
distemper began to spread in our parish, and especially when the dead-carts
began to go about, which was not, in our parish, till the beginning of August.
Into these pits they had put perhaps fifty or sixty bodies each; then they made
larger holes wherein they buried all that the cart brought in a week, which, by
the middle to the end of August, came to from 200 to 400 a week; and they could
not well dig them larger, because of the order of the magistrates confining
them to leave no bodies within six feet of the surface; and the water coming on
at about seventeen or eighteen feet, they could not well, I say, put more in
one pit. But now, at the beginning of September, the plague raging in a
dreadful manner, and the number of burials in our parish increasing to more
than was ever buried in any parish about London of no larger extent, they
ordered this dreadful gulf to be dug—for such it was, rather than a pit.
They had supposed this pit would have supplied them for a
month or more when they dug it, and some blamed the churchwardens for suffering
such a frightful thing, telling them they were making preparations to bury the
whole parish, and the like; but time made it appear the churchwardens knew the
condition of the parish better than they did: for, the pit being finished the
4th of September, I think, they began to bury in it the 6th, and by the 20th,
which was just two weeks, they had thrown into it 1114 bodies when they were
obliged to fill it up, the bodies being then come to lie within six feet of the
surface. I doubt not but there may be some ancient persons alive in the parish
who can justify the fact of this and are able to show even in what place of the
churchyard the pit lay better than I can. The mark of it also was many years to
be seen in the churchyard on the surface, lying in length parallel with the
passage which goes by the west wall of the churchyard out of Houndsditch, and
turns east again into Whitechapel, coming out near the Three Nuns' Inn.
It was about the 10th of September that my curiosity led, or
rather drove, me to go and see this pit again, when there had been near 400
people buried in it; and I was not content to see it in the day-time, as I had
done before, for then there would have been nothing to have been seen but the
loose earth; for all the bodies that were thrown in were immediately covered
with earth by those they called the buriers, which at other times were called
bearers; but I resolved to go in the night and see some of them thrown in.
There was a strict order to prevent people coming to those
pits, and that was only to prevent infection. But after some time that order
was more necessary, for people that were infected and near their end, and
delirious also, would run to those pits, wrap in blankets or rugs, and throw
themselves in, and, as they said, bury themselves. I cannot say that the
officers suffered any willingly to lie there; but I have heard that in a great
pit in Fins bury, in the parish of Cripple gate, it lying open then to the
fields, for it was not then walled about, [many] came and threw themselves in,
and expired there, before they threw any earth upon them; and that when they
came to bury others and found them there, they were quite dead, though not
cold.
This may serve a little to describe the dreadful condition
of that day, though it is impossible to say anything that is able to give a
true idea of it to those who did not see it, other than this, that it was
indeed very, very, very dreadful, and such as no tongue can express.
I got admittance into the churchyard by being acquainted
with the sexton who attended; who, though he did not refuse me at all, yet
earnestly persuaded me not to go, telling me very seriously (for he was a good,
religious, and sensible man) that it was indeed their business and duty to
venture, and to run all hazards, and that in it they might hope to be
preserved; but that I had no apparent call to it but my own curiosity, which,
he said, he believed I would not pretend was sufficient to justify my running
that hazard. I told him I had been pressed in my mind to go, and that perhaps
it might be an instructing sight, that might not be without its uses. 'Nay,'
says the good man, 'if you will venture upon that score, name of God go in;
for, depend upon it, 'twill be a sermon to you, it may be, the best that ever
you heard in your life. Tic a speaking sight,' says he, 'and has a voice with
it, and a loud one, to call us all to repentance'; and with that he opened the
door and said, 'Go, if you will.'
His discourse had shocked my resolution a little, and I stood
wavering for a good while, but just at that interval I saw two links come over
from the end of the Minorizes, and heard the bellman, and then appeared a
dead-cart, as they called it, coming over the streets; so I could no longer
resist my desire of seeing it, and went in. There was nobody, as I could
perceive at first, in the churchyard, or going into it, but the buriers and the
fellow that drove the cart, or rather led the horse and cart; but when they
came up to the pit they saw a man go to and again, muffled up in a brown Cloak,
and making motions with his hands under his cloak, as if he was in great agony,
and the buriers immediately gathered about him, supposing he was one of those
poor delirious or desperate creatures that used to pretend, as I have said, to
bury themselves. He said nothing as he walked about, but two or three times
groaned very deeply and loud and sighed as he would break his heart.
When the buriers came up to him they soon found he was
neither a person infected and desperate, as I have observed above, or a person
distempered—in mind, but one oppressed with a dreadful weight of grief indeed,
having his wife and several of his children all in the cart that was just come
in with him, and he followed in an agony and excess of sorrow. He mourned
heartily, as it was easy to see, but with a kind of masculine grief that could
not give itself vent by tears; and calmly defying the buriers to let him alone,
said he would only see the bodies thrown in and go away, so they left
importuning him. But no sooner was the cart turned round and the bodies shot
into the pit promiscuously, which was a surprise to him, for he at least
expected they would have been decently laid in, though indeed he was afterwards
convinced that was impracticable; I say, no sooner did he see the sight but he
cried out aloud, unable to contain himself. I could not hear what he said, but
he went backward two or three steps and fell in a swoon. The buriers ran to him
and took him up, and in a little while he came to himself, and they led him
away to the Pie Tavern over against the end of Houndsditch, where, it seems,
the man was known, and where they took care of him. He looked into the pit
again as he went away, but the buriers had covered the bodies so immediately
with throwing in earth, that though there was light enough, for there were
lanterns, and candles in them, placed all night round the sides of the pit,
upon heaps of earth, seven or eight, or perhaps more, yet nothing could be
seen.
This was a mournful scene indeed and affected me almost as
much as the rest; but the other was awful and full of terror. The cart had in
it sixteen or seventeen bodies; some were wrap up in linen sheets, some in
rags, some little other than naked, or so loose that what covering they had
fell from them in the shooting out of the cart, and they fell quite naked among
the rest; but the matter was not much to them, or the indecency much to anyone
else, seeing they were all dead, and were to be huddled together into the
common grave of mankind, as we may call it, for here was no difference made,
but poor and rich went together; there was no other way of burials, neither was
it possible there should, for coffins were not to be had for the prodigious
numbers that fell in such a calamity as this.
It was reported by way of scandal upon the buriers, that if
any corpse was delivered to them decently wound up, as we called it then, in a
winding-sheet tied over the head and feet, which some did, and which was
generally of good linen; I say, it was reported that the buriers were so wicked
as to strip them in the cart and carry them quite naked to the ground. But as I
cannot easily credit anything so vile among Christians, and at a time so filled
with terrors as that was, I can only relate it and leave it undetermined.
Innumerable stories also went about of the cruel behaviors
and practices of nurses who tended the sick, and of their hastening on the fate
of those they tended in their sickness. But I shall say more of this in its
place.
I was indeed shocked with this sight; it almost overwhelmed
me, and I went away with my heart most afflicted, and full of the afflicting
thoughts, such as I cannot describe just at my going out of the church, and
turning up the street towards my own house, I saw another cart with links, and
a bellman going before, coming out of Harrow Alley in the Butcher Row, on the
other side of the way, and being, as I perceived, very full of dead bodies, it
went directly over the street also toward the church. I stood a while, but I
had no stomach to go back again to see the same dismal scene over again, so I
went directly home, where I could not but consider with thankfulness the risk I
had run, believing I had gotten no injury, as indeed I had not.
Here the poor unhappy gentleman's grief came into my head
again, and indeed I could not but shed tears in the reflection upon it, perhaps
more than he did himself; but his case lay so heavy upon my mind that I could
not prevail with myself, but that I must go out again into the street, and go
to the Pie Tavern, resolving to inquire what became of him.
It was by this time one o'clock in the morning, and yet the
poor gentleman was there. The truth was, the people of the house, knowing him,
had entertained him, and kept him there all the night, notwithstanding the
danger of being infected by him, though it appeared the man was perfectly sound
himself.
It is with regret that I take notice of this tavern. The
people were civil, mannerly, and an obliging sort of folks enough, and had till
this time kept their house open and their trade going on, though not so very
publicly as formerly: but there was a dreadful set of fellows that used their
house, and who, in the middle of all this horror, met there every night,
behaved with all the reveling and roaring extravagances as is usual for such
people to do at other times, and, indeed, to such an offensive degree that the
very master and mistress of the house grew first ashamed and then terrified at
them.
They sat generally in a room next the street, and as they
always kept late hours, so when the dead-cart came across the street-end to go
into Houndsditch, which was in view of the tavern windows, they would
frequently open the windows as soon as they heard the bell and look out at
them; and as they might often hear sad lamentations of people in the streets or
at their windows as the carts went along, they would make their impudent mocks
and jeers at them, especially if they heard the poor people call upon God to
have mercy upon them, as many would do at those times in their ordinary passing
along the streets.
These gentlemen, being something disturbed with the clutter
of bringing the poor gentleman into the house, as above, were first angry and
very high with the master of the house for suffering such a fellow, as they
called him, to be brought out of the grave into their house; but being answered
that the man was a neighbor, and that he was sound, but overwhelmed with the
calamity of his family, and the like, they turned their anger into ridiculing
the man and his sorrow for his wife and children, taunted him with want of
courage to leap into the great pit and go to heaven, as they jeeringly
expressed it, along with them, adding some very profane and even blasphemous
expressions.
They were at this vile work when I came back to the house,
and, as far as I could see, though the man sat still, mute and disconsolate,
and their affronts could not divert his sorrow, yet he was both grieved and
offended at their discourse. Upon this I gently reproved them, being well
enough acquainted with their characters, and not unknown in person to two of
them.
They immediately fell upon me with ill language and oaths,
asked me what I did out of my grave at such a time when so many monster men
were carried into the churchyard, and why I was not at home saying my prayers
against the dead-cart came for me, and the like.
I was indeed astonished at the impudence of the men, though
not at all discomposed at their treatment of me. However, I kept my temper. I
told them that though I defied them or any man in the world to tax me with any
dishonesty, yet I acknowledged that in this terrible judgement of God many
better than I were swept away and carried to their grave. But to answer their
question directly, the case was, that I was mercifully preserved by that great
God whose name they had blasphemed and taken in vain by cursing and swearing in
a dreadful manner, and that I believed I was preserved in particular, among
other ends of His goodness, that I might reprove them for their audacious
boldness in behaving in such a manner and in such an awful time as this was,
especially for their jeering and mocking at an honest gentleman and a neighbor
(for some of them knew him), who, they saw, was overwhelmed with sorrow for the
breaches which it had pleased God to make upon his family.
I cannot call exactly to mind the hellish, abominable
raillery which was the return they made to that talk of mine: being provoked,
it seems, that I was not at all afraid to be free with them; nor, if I could
remember, would I fill my account with any of the words, the horrid oaths,
curses, and vile expressions, such as, at that time of the day, even the worst
and ordinaries people in the street would not use; for, except such hardened
creatures as these, the most wicked wretches that could be found had at that
time some terror upon their minds of the hand of that Power which could thus in
a moment destroy them.
But that which was the worst in all their devilish language
was, that they were not afraid to blaspheme God and talk atheistically, making
a jest of my calling the plague the hand of God; mocking, and even laughing, at
the word judgement, as if the providence of God had no concern in the
inflicting such a desolating stroke; and that the people calling upon God as
they saw the carts carrying away the dead bodies was all enthusiastic, absurd,
and impertinent.
I made them some reply, such as I thought proper, but which
I found was so far from putting a check to their horrid way of speaking that it
made them rail the more, so that I confess it filled me with horror and a kind
of rage, and I came away, as I told them, lest the hand of that judgement which
had visited the whole city should glorify His vengeance upon them, and all that
were near them.
They received all reproof with the utmost contempt, and made
the greatest mockery that was possible for them to do at me, giving me all the
opprobrious, insolent scoffs that they could think of for preaching to them, as
they called it, which indeed grieved me, rather than angered me; and I went
away, blessing God, however, in my mind that I had not spared them, though they
had insulted me so much.
They continued this wretched course three or four days after
this, continually mocking and jeering at all that showed themselves religious
or serious, or that were any way touched with the sense of the terrible
judgement of God upon us; and I was informed they flouted in the same manner at
the good people who, notwithstanding the contagion, met at the church, fasted,
and prayed to God to remove His hand from them.
I say, they continued this dreadful course three or four
days—I think it was no more—when one of them, particularly he who asked the
poor gentleman what he did out of his grave, was struck from Heaven with the
plague, and died in a most deplorable manner; and, in a word, they were every
one of them carried into the great pit which I have mentioned above, before it
was quite filled up, which was not above a fortnight or thereabout.
These men were guilty of many extravagances, such as one
would think human nature should have trembled at the thoughts of at such a time
of general terror as was then upon us, and particularly scoffing and mocking at
everything which they happened to see that was religious among the people,
especially at their thronging zealously to the place of public worship to
implore mercy from Heaven in such a time of distress; and this tavern where
they held their dub being within view of the church-door, they had the more
particular occasion for their atheistically profane mirth.
But this began to abate a little with them before the
accident which I have related happened, for the infection increased so
violently at this part of the town now, that people began to be afraid to come
to the church; at least such numbers did not resort thither as was usual. Many
of the clergymen likewise were dead, and others gone into the country; for it
really required a steady courage and a strong faith for a man not only to
venture being in town at such a time as this, but likewise to venture to come
to church and perform the office of a minister to a congregation, of whom he
had reason to believe many of them were actually infected with the plague, and
to do this every day, or twice a day, as in some places was done.
It is true the people showed an extraordinary zeal in these
religious exercises, and as the church-doors were always open, people would go
in single at all times, whether the minister was officiating or no, and locking
themselves into separate pews, would be praying to God with great fervency and
devotion.
Others assembled at meetinghouses, everyone as their
different opinions in such things guided, but all were promiscuously the
subject of these men's drollery, especially at the beginning of the visitation.
It seems they had been checked for their open insulting
religion in this manner by several good people of every persuasion, and that,
and the violent raging of the infection, I suppose, was the occasion that they
had abated much of their rudeness for some time before, and were only roused by
the spirit of ribaldry and atheism at the clamor which was made when the
gentleman was first brought in there, and perhaps were agitated by the same
devil, when I took upon me to reprove them; though I did it at first with all
the calmness, temper, and good manners that I could, which for a while they
insulted me the more for thinking it had been in fear of their resentment,
though afterwards they found the contrary.
I went home, indeed, grieved and afflicted in my mind at the
abominable wickedness of those men, not doubting, however, that they would be
made dreadful examples of God's justice; for I looked upon this dismal time to
be a particular season of Divine vengeance, and that God would on this occasion
single out the proper objects of His displeasure in a more especial and
remarkable manner than at another time; and that though I did believe that many
good people would, and did, fall in the common calamity, and that it was no
certain rule to judge of the eternal state of any one by their being
distinguished in such a time of general destruction neither one way or other;
yet, I say, it could not but seem reasonable to believe that God would not
think fit to spare by His mercy such open declared enemies, that should insult
His name and Being, defy His vengeance, and mock at His worship and worshippers
at such a time; no, not though His mercy had thought fit to bear with and spare
them at other times; that this was a day of visitation, a day of God's anger,
and those words came into my thought, Jer. v. 9: 'Shall I not visit for these
things? saith the Lord: and shall not My soul be avenged of such a nation as
this?'
These things, I say, lay upon my mind, and I went home very
much grieved and oppressed with the horror of these men's wickedness, and to
think that anything could be so vile, so hardened, and notoriously wicked as to
insult God, and His servants, and His worship in such a manner, and at such a
time as this was, when He had, as it were, His sword drawn in His hand on
purpose to take vengeance not on them only, but on the whole nation.
I had, indeed, been in some passion at first with
them—though it was really raised, not by any affront they had offered me
personally, but by the horror their blaspheming tongues filled me with.
However, I was doubtful in my thoughts whether the resentment I retained was
not all upon my own private account, for they had given me a great deal of ill
language too—I mean personally; but after some pause, and having a weight of
grief upon my mind, I retired myself as soon as I came home, for I slept not
that night; and giving God most humble thanks for my preservation in the
eminent danger I had been in, I set my mind seriously and with the utmost
earnestness to pray for those desperate wretches, that God would pardon them,
open their eyes, and effectually humble them.
By this I not only did my duty, namely, to pray for those
who despitefully used me, but I fully tried my own heart, to my full
satisfaction, that it was not filled with any spirit of resentment as they had
offended me in particular; and I humbly recommend the method to all those that
would know, or be certain, how to distinguish between their zeal for the honor
of God and the effects of their private passions and resentment.
But I must go back here to the particular incidents which
occur to my thoughts of the time of the visitation, and particularly to the
time of their shutting up houses in the first part of their sickness; for
before the sickness was come to its height people had more room to make their
observations than they had afterward; but when it was in the extremity there
was no such thing as communication with one another, as before.
During the shutting up of houses, as I have said, some
violence was offered to the watchmen. As to soldiers, there were none to be
found. The few guards which the king then had, which were nothing like the
number entertained since, were dispersed, either at Oxford with the Court, or
in quarters in the remoter parts of the country, small detachments excepted,
who did duty at the Tower and at Whitehall, and these but very few. Neither am
I positive that there was any other guard at the Tower than the warders, as
they called them, who stand at the gate with gowns and caps, the same as the
yeomen of the guard, except the ordinary gunners, who were twenty-four, and the
officers appointed to look after the magazine, who were called armorers. As to
trained bands, there was no possibility of raising any; neither, if the
Lieutenancy, either of London or Middlesex, had ordered the drums to beat for
the militia, would any of the companies, I believe, have drawn together,
whatever risk they had run.
This made the watchmen be the less regarded, and perhaps
occasioned the greater violence to be used against them. I mention it on this
score to observe that the setting watchmen thus to keep the people in was,
first of all, not effectual, but that the people broke out, whether by force or
by stratagem, even almost as often as they pleased; and, second, that those
that did thus break out were generally people infected who, in their
desperation, running about from one place to another, valued not whom they
injured: and which perhaps, as I have said, might give birth to report that it
was natural to the infected people to desire to infect others, which report was
really false.
And I know it so well, and in so many several cases, that I
could give several relations of good, pious, and religious people who, when
they have had the distemper, have been so far from being forward to infect
others that they have forbid their own family to come near them, in hopes of
their being preserved, and have even died without seeing their nearest
relations lest they should be instrumental to give them the distemper, and
infect or endanger them. If, then, there were cases wherein the infected people
were careless of the injury they did to others, this was certainly one of them,
if not the chief, namely, when people who had the distemper had broken out from
houses which were so shut up, and having been driven to extremities for
provision or for entertainment, had endeavored to conceal their condition, and
have been thereby instrumental involuntarily to infect others who have been
ignorant and unwary.
This is one of the reasons why I believed then, and do
believe still, that the shutting up houses thus by force, and restraining, or
rather imprisoning, people in their own houses, as I said above, was of little
or no service in the whole. Nay, I am of opinion it was rather hurtful, having
forced those desperate people to wander abroad with the plague upon them, who
would otherwise have died quietly in their beds.
I remember one citizen who, having thus broken out of his
house in Alders gate Street or thereabout, went along the road to Islington; he
attempted to have gone in at the Angel Inn, and after that the White Horse, two
inns known still by the same signs, but was refused; after which he came to the
Pied Bull, an inn also still continuing the same sign. He asked them for
lodging for one night only, pretending to be going into Lincolnshire, and
assuring them of his being very sound and free from the infection, which also
at that time had not reached much that way.
They told him they had no lodging that they could spare but
one bed up in the garret, and that they could spare that bed for one night,
some drovers being expected the next day with cattle; so, if he would accept of
that lodging, he might have it, which he did. So, a servant was sent up with a
candle with him to show him the room. He was very well dressed, and looked like
a person not used to lie in a garret; and when he came to the room he fetched a
deep sigh, and said to the servant, 'I have seldom lain in such a lodging as
this. 'However, the servant assuring him again that they had no better, 'Well,'
says he, 'I must makeshift; this is a dreadful time; but it is but for one
night.' So, he sat down upon the bedside, and bade the maid, I think it was,
fetch him up a pint of warm ale. Accordingly, the servant went for the ale, but
some hurry in the house, which perhaps employed her other ways, put it out of
her head, and she went up no more to him.
The next morning, seeing no appearance of the gentleman,
somebody in the house asked the servant that had showed him upstairs what was
become of him. She started. 'Alas I,' says she, 'I never thought more of him.
He bade me carry him some warm ale, but I forgot.' Upon which, not the maid,
but some other person was sent up to see after him, who, coming into the room,
found him stark dead and almost cold, stretched out across the bed. His clothes
were pulled off, his jaw fallen, his eyes open in a most frightful posture, the
rug of the bed being grasped hard in one of his hands, so that it was plain he
died soon after the maid left him; and 'tis probable, had she gone up with the
ale, she had found him dead in a few minutes after he sat down upon the bed.
The alarm was great in the house, as anyone may suppose, they are having been
free from the distemper till that disaster, which, bringing the infection to
the house, spread it immediately to other houses round about it. I do not
remember how many died in the house itself, but I think the maid-servant who
went up first with him fell presently ill by the fright, and several others;
for, whereas there died but two in Islington of the plague the week before,
there died seventeen the week after, whereof fourteen were of the plague. This
was in the week from the 11th of July to the 18th.
There was one shift that some families had, and that not a
few, when their houses happened to be infected, and that was this: the families
who, in the first breaking-out of the distemper, fled away into the country and
had retreats among their friends, generally found some or other of their neighbors
or relations to commit the charge of those houses to for the safety of the
goods and the like. Some houses were, indeed, entirely locked up, the doors
padlocked, the windows and doors having deal boards nailed over them, and only
the inspection of them committed to the ordinary watchmen and parish officers;
but these were but few.
It was thought that there were not less than 10,000 houses
forsaken of the inhabitants in the city and suburbs, including what was in the
out-parishes and in Surrey, or the side of the water they called Southwark.
This was besides the numbers of lodgers, and of persons who were fled out of
other families; so that in all it was computed that about 200,000 people were
fled and gone. But of this I shall speak again. But I mention it here on this
account, namely, that it was a rule with those who had thus two houses in their
keeping or care, that if anybody was taken sick in a family, before the master
of the family let the examiners or any other officer know of it, he immediately
would send all the rest of his family, whether children or servants, as it fell
out to be, to such other house which he had so in charge, and then giving
notice of the sick person to the examiner, have a nurse or nurses appointed,
and have another person to be shut up in the house with them (which many for
money would do), so to take charge of the house in case the person should die.
This was, in many cases, the saving a whole family, who, if
they had been shut up with the sick person, would inevitably have perished.
But, on the other hand, this was another of the inconveniences of shutting up
houses; for the apprehensions and terror of being shut up made many run away
with the rest of the family, who, though it was not publicly known, and they
were not quite sick, had yet the distemper upon them; and who, by having an
uninterrupted liberty to go about, but being obliged still to conceal their
circumstances, or perhaps not knowing it themselves, gave the distemper to
others, and spread the infection in a dreadful manner, as I shall explain
further hereafter.
And here I may be able to see or two of my own, which may be
of use hereafter to those into whose hands these may come, if they should ever
see the like dreadful visitation. (1) The infection generally came into the
houses of the citizens by the means of their servants, whom they were obliged
to send up and down the streets for necessaries; that is to say, for food or
physic, to bakehouses, brew-houses, shops, &c.; and who going necessarily
through the streets into shops, markets, and the like, it was impossible but
that they should, one way or other, meet with distempered people, who conveyed
the fatal breath into them, and they brought it home to the families to which
they belonged. (2) It was a great mistake that such a great city as this had
but one pest-house; for had there been, instead of one pest-house—viz., beyond
Bunhill Fields, where, at most, they could receive, perhaps, two hundred or
three hundred people—I say, had there, instead of that one, been several
pest-houses, every one able to contain a thousand people, without lying two in
a bed, or two beds in a room; and had every master of a family, as soon as any
servant especially had been taken sick in his house, been obliged to send them
to the next pest-house, if they were willing, as many were, and had the
examiners done the like among the poor people when any had been stricken with
the infection; I say, had this been done where the people were willing (not
otherwise), and the houses not been shut, I am persuaded, and was all the while
of that opinion, that not so many, by several thousands, had died; for it was
observed, and I could give several instances within the compass of my own
knowledge, where a servant had been taken sick, and the family had either time
to send him out or retire from the house and leave the sick person, as I have
said above, they had all been preserved; whereas when, upon one or more
sickening in a family, the house has been shut up, the whole family have
perished, and the bearers been obliged to go in to fetch out the dead bodies,
not being able to bring them to the door, and at last none left to do it.
(3) This put it out of question to me, that the calamity was
spread by infection; that is to say, by some certain steams or fumes, which the
physicians call effluvia, by the breath, or by the sweat, or by the stench of
the sores of the sick persons, or some other way, perhaps, beyond even the
reach of the physicians themselves, which effluvia affected the sound who came
within certain distances of the sick, immediately penetrating the vital parts
of the said sound persons, putting their blood into an immediate ferment, and
agitating their spirits to that degree which it was found they were agitated;
and so those newly infected persons communicated it in the same manner to others.
And this I shall give some instances of, that cannot but convince those who
seriously consider it; and I cannot but with some wonder find some people, now
the contagion is over, talk of its being an immediate stroke from Heaven,
without the agency of means, having commission to strike this and that
particular person, and none other—which I look upon with contempt as the effect
of manifest ignorance and enthusiasm; likewise the opinion of others, who talk
of infection being carried on by the air only, by carrying with it vast numbers
of insects and invisible creatures, who enter into the body with the breath, or
even at the pores with the air, and there generate or emit most acute poisons,
or poisonous ova or eggs, which mingle themselves with the blood, and so infect
the body: a discourse full of learned simplicity, and manifested to be so by
universal experience; but I shall say more to this case in its order.
I must here take further notice that nothing was more fatal
to the inhabitants of this city than the supine negligence of the people
themselves, who, during the long notice or warning they had of the visitation,
made no provision for it by laying in store of provisions, or of other
necessaries, by which they might have lived retired and within their own
houses, as I have observed others did, and who were in a great measure
preserved by that caution; nor were they, after they were a little hardened to
it, so shy of conversing with one another, when actually infected, as they were
at first: no, though they knew it.
I acknowledge I was one of those thoughtless ones that had
made so little provision that my servants were obliged to go out of doors to
buy every trifle by penny and halfpenny, just as before it began, even till my
experience showing me the folly, I began to be wiser so late that I had scarce
time to store myself sufficient for our common subsistence for a month.
I had in family only an ancient woman that managed the
house, a maid-servant, two apprentices, and myself; and the plague beginning to
increase about us, I had many sad thoughts about what course I should take, and
how I should act. The many dismal objects which happened everywhere as I went
about the streets, had filled my mind with a great deal of horror for fear of
the distemper, which was indeed very horrible, and in some more than in others.
The swellings, which were generally in the neck or groin, when they grew hard
and would not break, grew so painful that it was equal to the most exquisite
torture; and some, not able to bear the torment, threw themselves out at
windows or shot themselves, or otherwise made themselves away, and I saw
several dismal objects of that kind. Others, unable to contain themselves,
vented their pain by incessant roaring's, and such loud and lamentable cries
were to be heard as we walked along the streets that would pierce the very
heart to think of, especially when it was to be considered that the same
dreadful scourge might be expected every moment to seize upon ourselves.
I cannot say but that now I began to faint in my
resolutions; my heart failed me very much, and sorely I repented of my
rashness. When I had been out and met with such terrible things as these I have
talked of, I say I repented my rashness in venturing to abide in town. I wished
often that I had not taken upon me to stay but had gone away with my brother
and his family.
Terrified by those frightful objects, I would retire home
sometimes and resolve to go out no more; and perhaps I would keep those
resolutions for three or four days, which time I spent in the most serious
thankfulness for my preservation and the preservation of my family, and the
constant confession of my sins, giving myself up to God every day, and applying
to Him with fasting, humiliation, and meditation. Such intervals as I had I
employed in reading books and in writing down my memorandums of what occurred
to me every day, and out of which afterwards I took most of this work, as it
relates to my observations without doors. What I wrote of my private meditations
I reserve for private use, and desire it may not be made public on any account
whatever.
I also wrote other meditations upon divine subjects, such as
occurred to me at that time and were profitable to myself, but not fit for any
other view, and therefore I say no more of that.
I had a very good friend, a physician, whose name was Heath,
whom I frequently visited during this dismal time, and to whose advice I was
very much obliged for many things which he directed me to take, by way of
preventing the infection when I went out, as he found I frequently did, and to
hold in my mouth when I was in the streets. He also came very often to see me,
and as he was a good Christian as well as a good physician, his agreeable
conversation was a very great support to me in the worst of this terrible time.
It was now the beginning of August, and the plague grew very
violent and terrible in the place where I lived, and Dr Heath coming to visit
me, and finding that I ventured so often out in the streets, earnestly persuaded
me to lock myself up and my family, and not to suffer any of us to go out of
doors; to keep all our windows fast, shutters and curtains close, and never to
open them; but first, to make a very strong smoke in the room where the window
or door was to be opened, with frozen and pitch, brimstone or gunpowder and the
like; and we did this for some time; but as I had not laid in a store of
provision for such a retreat, it was impossible that we could keep within doors
entirely. However, I attempted, though it was so very late, to do something
towards it; and first, as I had convenience both for brewing and baking, I went
and bought two sacks of meal, and for several weeks, having an oven, we baked
all our own bread; also I bought malt, and brewed as much beer as all the casks
I had would hold, and which seemed enough to serve my house for five or six
weeks; also I laid in a quantity of salt butter and Cheshire cheese; but I had
no flesh-meat, and the plague raged so violently among the butchers and
slaughter-houses on the other side of our street, where they are known to dwell
in great numbers, that it was not advisable so much as to go over the street
among them.
And here I must observe again, that this necessity of going
out of our houses to buy provisions was in a great measure the ruin of the
whole city, for the people catcher the distemper on these occasions one of
another, and even the provisions themselves were often tainted; at least I have
great reason to believe so; and therefore I cannot say with satisfaction what I
know is repeated with great assurance, that the market-people and such as
brought provisions to town were never infected. I am certain the butchers of Whitechapel,
where the greatest part of the flesh-meat was killed, were dreadfully visited,
and that at least to such a degree that few of their shops were kept open, and
those that remained of them killed their meat at Mile End and that way, and
brought it to market upon horses.
However, the poor people could not layup provisions, and
there was a necessity that they must go to market to buy, and others to send
servants or their children; and as this was a necessity which renewed itself
daily, it brought abundance of unsound people to the markets, and a great many
that went thither sound brought death home with them.
It is true people used all possible precaution. When anyone
bought a joint of meat in the market, they would not take it off the butcher's
hand, but took it off the hooks themselves. On the other hand, the butcher
would not touch the money, but have it put into a pot full of vinegar, which he
kept for that purpose. The buyer carried always small money to make up any odd
sum, that they might take no change. They carried bottles of scents and
perfumes in their hands, and all the means that could be used were used, but
then the poor could not do even these things, and they went at all hazards.
Innumerable dismal stories we heard every day on this very
account. Sometimes a man or woman dropped down dead in the very markets, for
many people that had the plague upon them knew nothing of it till the inward
gangrene had affected their vitals, and they died in a few moments. This caused
that many died frequently in that manner in the streets suddenly, without any
warning; others perhaps had time to go to the next bulk or stall, or to any
door-porch, and just sit down and die, as I have said before.
These objects were so frequent in the streets that when the
plague came to be very raging on one side, there was scarce any passing by the
streets but that several dead bodies would be lying here and there upon the
ground. On the other hand, it is observable that though at first the people
would stop as they went along and call to the neighbors to come out on such an
occasion, yet afterward no notice was taken of them; but that if at any time we
found a corpse lying, go across the way and not come near it; or, if in a
narrow lane or passage, go back again and seek some other way to go on the
business we were upon; and in those cases the corpse was always left till the
officers had notice to come and take them away, or till night, when the bearers
attending the dead-cart would take them up and carry them away. Nor did those
undaunted creatures who performed these offices fail to search their pockets,
and sometimes strip off their clothes if they were well dressed, as sometimes
they were, and carry off what they could get.
But to return to the markets. The butchers took that care
that if any person died in the market they had the officers always at hand to take
them up upon hand-barrows and carry them to the next churchyard; and this was
so frequent that such were not entered in the weekly bill, 'Found dead in the
streets or fields', as is the case now, but they went into the general articles
of the great distemper.
But now the fury of the distemper increased to such a degree
that even the markets were but very thinly furnished with provisions or frequented
with buyers compared to what they were before; and the Lord Mayor caused the
country people who brought provisions to be stopped in the streets leading into
the town, and to sit down there with their goods, where they sold what they
brought, and went immediately away; and this encouraged the country people
greatly-to do so, for they sold their provisions at the very entrances into the
town, and even in the fields, as particularly in the fields beyond Whitechapel,
in Spittle fields; also in St George's Fields in Southwark, in Bunhill Fields,
and in a great field called Wood's Close, near Islington. Thither the Lord
Mayor, aldermen, and magistrates sent their officers and servants to buy for
their families, themselves keeping within doors as much as possible, and the
like did many other people; and after this method was taken the country people
came with great cheerfulness, and brought provisions of all sorts, and very
seldom got any harm, which, I suppose, added also to that report of their being
miraculously preserved.
As for my little family, having thus, as I have said, laid
in a store of bread, butter, cheese, and beer, I took my friend and physician's
advice, and locked myself up, and my family, and resolved to suffer the
hardship of living a few months without flesh-meat, rather than to purchase it
at the hazard of our lives.
But though I confined my family, I could not prevail upon my
unsatisfied curiosity to stay within entirely myself; and though I generally
came freighted and terrified home, yet I could not restrain; only that indeed I
did not do it so frequently as at first.
I had some little obligations, indeed, upon me to go to my
brother's house, which was in Coleman Street parish and which he had left to my
care, and I went at first every day, but afterwards only once or twice a week.
In these walks I had many dismal scenes before my eyes, as
particularly of persons falling dead in the streets, terrible shrieks and screeching
of women, who, in their agonies, would throw open their chamber windows and cry
out in a dismal, surprising manner. It is impossible to describe the variety of
postures in which the passions of the poor people would express themselves.
Passing through Token house Yard, in Lathbury, of a sudden a
casement violently opened just over my head, and a woman gave three frightful
screeches, and then cried, 'Oh! death, death, death!' in a most inimitable
tone, and which struck me with horror and a chillness in my very blood. There
was nobody to be seen in the whole street, neither did any other window open,
for people had no curiosity now in any case, nor could anybody help one
another, so I went on to pass into Bell Alley.
Just in Bell Alley, on the right hand of the passage, there
was a more terrible cry than that, though it was not so directed out at the
window; but the whole family was in a terrible fright, and I could hear women
and children run screaming about the rooms like distracted, when a
garret-window opened and somebody from a window on the other side the alley
called and asked, 'What is the matter?' upon which, from the first window, it
was answered, 'Oh Lord, my old master has hanged himself!' The other asked
again, 'Is he quite dead?' and the first answered, 'Ay, ay, quite dead; quite
dead and cold!' This person was a merchant and a deputy alderman, and very
rich. I care not to mention the name, though I knew his name too, but that
would be a hardship to the family, which is now flourishing again.
But this is but one; it is scarce credible what dreadful
cases happened families every day. People in the rage of the distemper, or in
the torment of their swellings, which was indeed intolerable, running out of
their own government, raving and distracted, and oftentimes laying violent
hands upon themselves, throwing themselves out at their windows, shooting
themselves &c.; mothers murdering their own children in their lunacy, some
dying of mere grief as a passion, some of mere fright and surprise without any
infection at all, others freighted into idiotism and foolish distractions, some
into despair and lunacy, others into melancholy madness.
The pain of the swelling was very violent, and to some
intolerable; the physicians and surgeons may be said to have tortured many poor
creatures even to death. The swellings in some grew hard, and they applied
violent drawing-plasters or poultices to break them, and if these did not do,
they cut and scarified them in a terrible manner. In some those swellings were
made hard partly by the force of the distemper and partly by their being too
violently drawn, and were so hard that no instrument could cut them, and then
they burnt them with caustics, so that many died raving mad with the torment,
and some in the very operation. In these distresses, some, for want of help to
hold them down in their beds, or to look to them, laid hands upon themselves as
above. Some broke out into the streets, perhaps naked, and would run directly
down to the river if they were not stopped by the watchman or other officers
and plunge themselves into the water wherever they found it.
It often pierced my very soul to hear the groans and cries
of those who were thus tormented, but of the two this was counted the most
promising particular in the whole infection, for if these swellings could be
brought to a head, and to break and run, or, as the surgeons call it, to
digest, the patient generally recovered; whereas those who, like the
gentlewoman's daughter, were struck with death at the beginning, and had the
tokens come out upon them, often went about indifferent easy till a little
before they died, and some till the moment they dropped down, as in apoplexies
and epilepsies is often the case. Such would be taken suddenly very sick, and
would run to a bench or bulk, or any convenient place that offered itself, or
to their own houses if possible, as I mentioned before, and there sit down,
grow faint, and die. This kind of dying was much the same as it was with those
who die of common mortifications, who die swooning, and, as it were, go away in
a dream. Such as died thus had very little notice of their being infected at
all till the gangrene was spread through their whole body; nor could physicians
themselves know certainly how it was with them till they opened their breasts
or other parts of their body and saw the tokens.
We had at this time a great many frightful stories told us
of nurses and watchmen who looked after the dying people; that is to say, hired
nurses who attended infected people, using them barbarously, starving them,
smothering them, or by other wicked means hastening their end, that is to say,
murdering of them; and watchmen, being set to guard houses that were shut up
when there has been but one person left, and perhaps that one lying sick, that
they have broken in and murdered that body, and immediately thrown them out
into the dead-cart! And so, they have gone scarce cold to the grave.
I cannot say but that some such murders were committed, and
I think two were sent to prison for it, but died before they could be tried;
and I have heard that three others, at several times, were excused for murders
of that kind; but I must say I believe nothing of its being so common a crime
as some have since been pleased to say, nor did it seem to be so rational where
the people were brought so low as not to be able to help themselves, for such
seldom recovered, and there was no temptation to commit a murder, at least none
equal to the fact, where they were sure persons would die in so short a time,
and could not live.
That there were a great many robberies and wicked practices
committed even in this dreadful time I do not deny. The power of avarice was so
strong in some that they would run any hazard to steal and to plunder; and
particularly in houses where all the families or inhabitants have been dead and
carried out, they would break in at all hazards, and without regard to the
danger of infection, take even the clothes off the dead bodies and the
bed-clothes from others where they lay dead.
This, I suppose, must be the case of a family in
Houndsditch, where a man and his daughter, the rest of the family being, as I
suppose, carried away before by the dead-cart, were found stark naked, one in
one chamber and one in another, lying dead on the floor, and the clothes of the
beds, from whence 'tis supposed they were rolled off by thieves, stolen and
carried quite away.
It is indeed to be observed that the women were in all this
calamity the most rash, fearless, and desperate creatures, and as there were
vast numbers that went about as nurses to tend those that were sick, they
committed a great many petty thieveries in the houses where they were employed;
and some of them were publicly whipped for it, when perhaps they ought rather
to have been hanged for examples, for numbers of houses were robbed on these
occasions, till at length the parish officers were sent to recommend nurses to
the sick, and always took an account whom it was they sent, so as that they
might call them to account if the house had been abused where they were placed.
But these robberies extended chiefly to wearing-clothes, linen,
and what rings or money they could come at when the person died who was under
their care, but not to a general plunder of the houses; and I could give you an
account of one of these nurses, who, several years after, being on her
deathbed, confessed with the utmost horror the robberies she had committed at
the time of her being a nurse, and by which she had enriched herself to a great
degree. But as for murders, I do not find that there was ever any proof of the
facts in the manner as it has been reported, except as above.
They did tell me, indeed, of a nurse in one place that laid
a wet cloth upon the face of a dying patient whom she tended, and so put an end
to his life, who was just expiring before; and another that smothered a young
woman she was looking to when she was in a fainting fit, and would have come to
herself; some that killed them by giving them one thing, some another, and some
starved them by giving them nothing at all. But these stories had two marks of
suspicion that always attended them, which caused me always to slight them and
to look on them as mere stories that people continually freighted one another
with. First, that wherever it was that we heard it, they always placed the
scene at the farther end of the town, opposite or most remote from where you
were to hear it. If you heard it in Whitechapel, it had happened at St Giles's,
or at Westminster, or Hollyburn, or that end of the town. If you heard of it at
that end of the town, then it was done in Whitechapel, or the Minorizes, or about
Cripple gate parish. If you heard of it in the city, why, then it happened in
Southwark; and if you heard of it in Southwark, then it was done in the city,
and the like.
In the next place, of what part sever you heard the story,
the particulars were always the same, especially that of laying a wet double
cloth on a dying man's face, and that of smothering a young gentlewoman; so
that it was apparent, at least to my judgement, that there was more of tale
than of truth in those things.
However, I cannot say but it had some effect upon the
people, and particularly that, as I said before, they grew more cautious whom
they took into their houses, and whom they trusted their lives with, and had
them always recommended if they could; and where they could not find such, for
they were not very plenty, they applied to the parish officers.
But here again the misery of that time lay upon the poor
who, being infected, had neither food or physic, neither physician or
apothecary to assist them, or nurse to attend them. Many of those died calling
for help, and even for sustenance, out at their windows in a most miserable and
deplorable manner; but it must be added that whenever the cases of such persons
or families were represented to my Lord Mayor they always were relieved.
It is true, in some houses where the people were not very
poor, yet where they had sent perhaps their wives and children away, and if
they had any servants they had been dismissed;—I say it is true that to save
the expenses, many such as these shut themselves in, and not having help, died
alone.
A neighbor and acquaintance of mine, having some money owing
to him from a shopkeeper in Whitecross Street or thereabouts, sent his
apprentice, a youth about eighteen years of age, to endeavor to get the money.
He came to the door, and finding it shut, knocked pretty hard; and, as he
thought, heard somebody answer within, but was not sure, so he waited, and
after some stay knocked again, and then a third time, when he heard somebody
coming downstairs.
At length the man of the house came to the door; he had on
his breeches or drawers, and a yellow flannel waistcoat, no stockings, a pair
of slipped-shoes, a white cap on his head, and, as the young man said, 'death
in his face'.
When he opened the door, says he, 'What do you disturb me
thus for?' The boy, though a little surprised, replied, 'I come from such a
one, and my master sent me for the money which he says you know of.' 'Very
well, child,' returns the living ghost; 'call as you go by at Cripple gate
Church, and bid them ring the bell'; and with these words shut the door again,
and went up again, and died the same day; nay, perhaps the same hour. This the
young man told me himself, and I have reason to believe it. This was while the
plague was not come to a height. I think it was in June, towards the latter end
of the month; it must be before the dead-carts came about, and while they used
the ceremony of ringing the bell for the dead, which was over for certain, in
that parish at least, before the month of July, for by the 25th of July there
died 550 and upwards in a week, and then they could no more bury in form, rich
or poor.
I have mentioned above that notwithstanding this dreadful
calamity, yet the numbers of thieves were abroad upon all occasions, where they
had found any prey, and that these were generally women. It was one morning
about eleven O'clock, I had walked out to my brother's house in Coleman Street
parish, as I often did, to see that all was safe.
My brother's house had a little court before it, and a brick
wall and a gate in it, and within that several warehouses where his goods of
several sorts lay. It happened that in one of these warehouses were several
packs of women's high-crowned hats, which came out of the country and were, as
I suppose, for exportation: whither, I know not.
I was surprised that when I came near my brother's door,
which was in a place they called Swan Alley, I met three or four women with
high-crowned hats on their heads; and, as I remembered afterwards, one, if not
more, had some hats likewise in their hands; but as I did not see them come out
at my brother's door, and not knowing that my brother had any such goods in his
warehouse, I did not offer to say anything to them, but went across the way to
shun meeting them, as was usual to do at that time, for fear of the plague. But
when I came nearer to the gate, I met another woman with more hats come out of
the gate. 'What business, mistress,' said I, 'have you had there?' 'There are
more people there,' said she; 'I have had no more business there than they.' I
was hasty to get to the gate then, and said no more to her, by which means she
got away. But just as I came to the gate, I saw two more coming across the yard
to come out with hats also on their heads and under their arms, at which I
threw the gate to behind me, which having a spring lock fastened itself; and
turning to the women, 'Forsooth,' said I, 'what are you doing here?' and seized
upon the hats, and took them from them. One of them, who, I confess, did not
look like a thief—'Indeed,' says she, 'we are wrong, but we were told they were
goods that had no owner. Be pleased to take them again; and look yonder, there
are more such customers as we.' She cried and looked pitifully, so I took the
hats from her and opened the gate, and bade them be gone, for I pitied the
women indeed; but when I looked towards the warehouse, as she directed, there
were six or seven more, all women, fitting themselves with hats as unconcerned
and quiet as if they had been at a hatter's shop buying for their money.
I was surprised, not at the sight of so many thieves only,
but at the circumstances I was in; being now to thrust myself in among so many
people, who for some weeks had been so shy of myself that if I met anybody in
the street I would cross the way from them.
They were equally surprised, though on another account. They
all told me they were neighbors, that they had heard anyone might take them,
that they were nobody's goods, and the like. I talked big to them at first,
went back to the gate and took out the key, so that they were all my prisoners,
threatened to lock them all into the warehouse, and go and fetch my Lord
Mayor's officers for them.
They begged heartily, protested they found the gate open,
and the warehouse door open; and that it had no doubt been broken open by some
who expected to find goods of greater value: which indeed was reasonable to
believe, because the lock was broke, and a padlock that hung to the door on the
outside also loose, and an abundance of the hats carried away.
At length I considered that this was not a time to be cruel
and rigorous; and besides that, it would necessarily oblige me to go much
about, to have several people come to me, and I go to several whose circumstances
of health I knew nothing of; and that even at this time the plague was so high
as that there died 4000 a week; so that in showing my resentment, or even in
seeking justice for my brother's goods, I might lose my own life; so I
contented myself with taking the names and places where some of them lived, who
were really inhabitants in the neighborhood, and threatening that my brother
should call them to an account for it when he returned to his habitation.
Then I talked a little upon another foot with them, and
asked them how they could do such things as these in a time of such general
calamity, and, as it were, in the face of God's most dreadful judgements, when
the plague was at their very doors, and, it may be, in their very houses, and
they did not know but that the dead-cart might stop at their doors in a few
hours to carry them to their graves.
I could not perceive that my discourse made much impression
upon them all that while, till it happened that there came two men of the neighborhood,
hearing of the disturbance, and knowing my brother, for they had been both
dependents upon his family, and they came to my assistance. These being, as I
said, neighbors, presently knew three of the women and told me who they were
and where they lived; and it seems they had given me a true account of
themselves before.
This brings these two men to a further remembrance. The name
of one was John Hayward, who was at that time under sexton of the parish of St
Stephen, Coleman Street. By under sexton was understood at that time
gravedigger and bearer of the dead. This man carried, or assisted to carry, all
the dead to their graves which were buried in that large parish, and who were
carried in form; and after that form of burying was stopped, went with the
dead-cart and the bell to fetch the dead bodies from the houses where they lay,
and fetched many of them out of the chambers and houses; for the parish was,
and is still, remarkable particularly, above all the parishes in London, for a
great number of alleys and thoroughfares, very long, into which no carts could
come, and where they were obliged to go and fetch the bodies a very long way;
which alleys now remain to witness it, such as White's Alley, Cross Key Court,
Swan Alley, Bell Alley, White Horse Alley, and many more. Here they went with a
kind of hand-barrow and laid the dead bodies on it, and carried them out to the
carts; which work he performed and never had the distemper at all, but lived
about twenty years after it, and was sexton of the parish to the time of his
death. His wife at the same time was a nurse to infected people, and tended
many that died in the parish, being for her honesty recommended by the parish
officers; yet she never was infected neither.
He never used any preservative against the infection, other
than holding garlic and rue in his mouth, and smoking tobacco. This I also had
from his own mouth. And his wife's remedy was washing her head in vinegar and
sprinkling her head-clothes so with vinegar as to keep them always moist, and
if the smell of any of those she waited on was more than ordinary offensive,
she snuffed vinegar up her nose and sprinkled vinegar upon her head-clothes,
and held a handkerchief wetted with vinegar to her mouth.
It must be confessed that though the plague was chiefly
among the poor, yet were the poor the most venturous and fearless of it, and
went about their employment with a sort of brutal courage; I must call it so,
for it was founded neither on religion nor prudence; scarce did they use any
caution, but ran into any business which they could get employment in, though
it was the most hazardous. Such was that of tending the sick, watching houses
shut up, carrying infected persons to the pest-house, and, which was still
worse, carrying the dead away to their graves.
It was under this John Hayward's care, and within his
bounds, that the story of the piper, with which people have made themselves so
merry, happened, and he assured me that it was true. It is said that it was a
blind piper; but, as John told me, the fellow was not blind, but an ignorant,
weak, poor man, and usually walked his rounds about ten o'clock at night and
went piping along from door to door, and the people usually took him in at
public-houses where they knew him, and would give him drink and victuals, and
sometimes farthings; and he in return would pipe and sing and talk simply,
which diverted the people; and thus he lived. It was but a very bad time for
this diversion while things were as I have told, yet the poor fellow went about
as usual, but was almost starved; and when anybody asked how he did he would
answer, the dead cart had not taken him yet, but that they had promised to call
for him next week.
It happened one night that this poor fellow, whether
somebody had given him too much drink or no—John Hayward said he had not drink
in his house, but that they had given him a little more victuals than ordinary
at a public-house in Coleman Street—and the poor fellow, having not usually had
a bellyful for perhaps not a good while, was laid all along upon the top of a
bulk or stall, and fast asleep, at a door in the street near London Wall,
towards Cripple gate-, and that upon the same bulk or stall the people of some
house, in the alley of which the house was a corner, hearing a bell which they
always rang before the cart came, had laid a body really dead of the plague
just by him, thinking, too, that this poor fellow had been a dead body, as the
other was, and laid there by some of the neighbors.
Accordingly, when John Hayward with his bell and the cart
came along, finding two dead bodies lie upon the stall, they took them up with
the instrument they used and threw them into the cart, and, all this while the
piper slept soundly.
From hence they passed along and took in other dead bodies,
till, as honest John Hayward told me, they almost buried him alive in the cart;
yet all this while he slept soundly. At length the cart came to the place where
the bodies were to be thrown into the ground, which, as I do remember, was at
Mount Mill; and as the cart usually stopped some time before they were ready to
shoot out the melancholy load they had in it, as soon as the cart stopped the
fellow awaked and struggled a little to get his head out from among the dead
bodies, when, raising himself up in the cart, he called out, 'Hey! where am I?'
This freighted the fellow that attended about the work; but after some pause
John Hayward, recovering himself, said, 'Lord, bless us! There's somebody in
the cart not quite dead!' So, another called to him and said, 'Who are you?'
The fellow answered, 'I am the poor piper. Where am I?' 'Where are you?' says
Hayward. 'Why, you are in the dead-cart, and we are going to bury you.' 'But I can't
dead though, am I?' says the piper, which made them laugh a little though, as
John said, they were heartily freighted at first; so they helped the poor
fellow down, and he went about his business.
I know the story goes he set up his pipes in the cart and freighted
the bearers and others so that they ran away; but John Hayward did not tell the
story so, nor say anything of his piping at all; but that he was a poor piper,
and that he was carried away as above I am fully satisfied of the truth of.
It is to be noted here that the dead-carts in the city were
not confined to particular parishes, but one cart went through several
parishes, according as the number of dead presented; nor were they tied to
carry the dead to their respective parishes, but many of the dead taken up in
the city were carried to the burying-ground in the out-parts for want of room.
I have already mentioned the surprise that this judgement
was at first among the people. I must be allowed to give some of my
observations on the more serious and religious part. Surely never city, at
least of this bulk and magnitude, was taken in a condition so perfectly
unprepared for such a dreadful visitation, whether I am to speak of the civil
preparations or religious. They were, indeed, as if they had had no warning, no
expectation, no apprehensions, and consequently the least provision imaginable
was made for it in a public way. For example, the Lord Mayor and sheriffs had
made no provision as magistrates for the regulations which were to be observed.
They had gone into no measures for relief of the poor. The citizens had no
public magazines or storehouses for corn or meal for the subsistence of the
poor, which if they had provided themselves, as in such cases is done abroad,
many miserable families who were now reduced to the utmost distress would have
been relieved, and that in a better manner than now could be done.
The stock of the city's money I can say but little to. The
Chamber of London was said to be exceedingly rich, and it may be concluded that
they were so, by the vast of money issued from thence in the rebuilding the
public edifices after the fire of London, and in building new works, such as,
for the first part, the Guildhall, Blackwell Hall, part of Leadenhall, half the
Exchange, the Session House, the Computer, the prisons of Ludgate, Negate,
&c., several of the wharfs and stairs and landing-places on the river; all
which were either burned down or damaged by the great fire of London, the next
year after the plague; and of the second sort, the Monument, Fleet Ditch with
its bridges, and the Hospital of Bethel or Bedlam, &c. But possibly the
managers of the city's credit at that time made more conscience of breaking in
upon the orphan's money to show charity to the distressed citizens than the
managers in the following years did to beautify the city and re-edify the
buildings; though, in the first case, the losers would have thought their
fortunes better bestowed, and the public faith of the city have been less
subjected to scandal and reproach.
It must be acknowledged that the absent citizens, who,
though they were fled for safety into the country, were yet greatly interested
in the welfare of those whom they left behind, forgot not to contribute
liberally to the relief of the poor, and large sums were also collected among
trading towns in the remotest parts of England; and, as I have heard also, the
nobility and the gentry in all parts of England took the deplorable condition
of the city into their consideration, and sent up large sums of money in
charity to the Lord Mayor and magistrates for the relief of the poor. The king
also, as I was told, ordered a thousand pounds a week to be distributed in four
parts: one quarter to the city and liberty of Westminster; one quarter or part
among the inhabitants of the Southwark side of the water; one quarter to the
liberty and parts within of the city, exclusive of the city within the walls;
and one-fourth part to the suburbs in the county of Middlesex, and the east and
north parts of the city. But this latter I only speak of as a report.
Certain it is, the greatest part of the poor or families who
formerly lived by their labor, or by retail trade, lived now on charity; and
had there not been prodigious sums of money given by charitable, well-minded
Christians for the support of such, the city could never have subsisted. There
were, no question, accounts kept of their charity, and of the just distribution
of it by the magistrates. But as such multitudes of those very officers died
through whose hands it was distributed, and also that, as I have been told,
most of the accounts of those things were lost in the great fire which happened
in the very next year, and which burnt even the chamberlain's office and many
of their papers, so I could never come at the particular account, which I used
great endeavors to have seen.
It may, however, be a direction in case of the approach of a
like visitation, which God keep the city from;—I say, it may be of use to
observe that by the care of the Lord Mayor and aldermen at that time in
distributing weekly great sums of money for relief of the poor, a multitude of
people who would otherwise have perished, were relieved, and their lives
preserved. And here let me enter into a brief state of the case of the poor at
that time, and what way apprehended from them, from whence may be judged
hereafter what may be expected if the like distress should come upon the city.
At the beginning of the plague, when there was now no more
hope but that the whole city would be visited; when, as I have said, all that
had friends or estates in the country retired with their families; and when,
indeed, one would have thought the very city itself was running out of the
gates, and that there would be nobody left behind; you may be sure from that
hour all trade, except such as related to immediate subsistence, was, as it
were, at a full stop.
This is so lively a case, and contains in it so much of the
real condition of the people, that I think I cannot be too particular in it,
and therefore I descend to the several arrangements or classes of people who
fell into immediate distress upon this occasion. For example:
1. All master-workmen in manufactures, especially such as
belonged to ornament and the less necessary parts of the people's dress,
clothes, and furniture for houses, such as riband-weavers and other weavers,
gold and silver lace makers, and gold and silver wire drawers, seamstresses,
milliners, shoemakers, hatmakers, and glovemakers; also upholsterers, joiners,
cabinet-makers, looking-glass makers, and innumerable trades which depend upon
such as these;—I say, the master-workmen in such stopped their work, dismissed
their journeymen and workmen, and all their dependents.
2. As merchandising was at a full stop, for very few ships
ventured to come up the river and none at all went out, so all the
extraordinary officers of the customs, likewise the watermen, carmen, porters,
and all the poor whose labor depended upon the merchants, were at once
dismissed and put out of business.
3. All the tradesmen usually employed in building or
repairing of houses were at a full stop, for the people were far from wanting
to build houses when so many thousand houses were at once stripped of their
inhabitants; so that this one article turned all the ordinary workmen of that
kind out of business, such as bricklayers, masons, carpenters, joiners,
plasterers, painters, glaziers, smiths, plumbers, and all the laborer's
depending on such.
4. As navigation was at a stop, our ships neither coming in
or going out as before, so the seamen were all out of employment, and many of
them in the last and lowest degree of distress; and with the seamen were all
the several tradesmen and workmen belonging to and depending upon the building
and fitting out of ships, such as ship-carpenters, caulkers, ropemakers, dry
coopers, sailmakers, anchor smiths, and other smiths; block makers, carvers,
gunsmiths, ship-chandlers, ship-carvers, and the like. The masters of those
perhaps might live upon their substance, but the traders were universally at a
stop, and consequently all their workmen discharged. Add to these that the
river was in a manner without boats, and all or most part of the watermen,
lightermen, boat-builders, and lighter-builders in like manner idle and laid
by.
5. All families retrenched their living as much as possible,
as well those that fled as those that stayed; so that an innumerable multitude
of footmen, serving-men, shopkeepers, journeymen, merchants' bookkeepers, and
such sort of people, and especially poor maid-servants, were turned off, and
left friendless and helpless, without employment and without habitation, and
this was really a dismal article.
I might be more particular as to this part, but it may
suffice to mention in general, all trades being stopped, employment ceased: the
labor, and by that the bread, of the poor were cut off; and at first indeed the
cries of the poor were most lamentable to hear, though by the distribution of
charity their misery that way was greatly abated. Many indeed fled into the
counties, but thousands of them having stayed in London till nothing but
desperation sent them away, death overtook them on the road, and they served
for no better than the messengers of death; indeed, others carrying the infection
along with them, spread it very unhappily into the remotest parts of the
kingdom.
Many of these were the miserable objects of despair which I
have mentioned before and were removed by the destruction which followed. These
might be said to perish not by the infection itself but by the consequence of
it; indeed, namely, by hunger and distress and the want of all things: being
without lodging, without money, without friends, without means to get their
bread, or without anyone to give it them; for many of them were without what we
call legal settlements, and so could not claim of the parishes, and all the
support they had was by application to the magistrates for relief, which relief
was (to give the magistrates their due) carefully and cheerfully administered
as they found it necessary, and those that stayed behind never felt the want
and distress of that kind which they felt who went away in the manner above
noted.
Let anyone who is acquainted with what multitudes of people
get their daily bread in this city by their labor, whether artificers or mere
workmen—I say, let any man consider what must be the miserable condition of
this town if, on a sudden, they should be all turned out of employment, that labor
should cease, and wages for work be no more.
This was the case with us at that time; and had not the sums
of money contributed in charity by well-disposed people of every kind, as well
abroad as at home, been prodigiously great, it had not been in the power of the
Lord Mayor and sheriffs to have kept the public peace. Nor were they without
apprehensions, as it was, that desperation should push the people upon tumults,
and cause them to rifle the houses of rich men and plunder the markets of
provisions; in which case the country people, who brought provisions very
freely and boldly to town, would have been terrified from coming any more, and
the town would have sunk under an unavoidable famine.
But the prudence of my Lord Mayor and the Court of Aldermen
within the city, and of the justices of peace in the out-parts, was such, and
they were supported with money from all parts so well, that the poor people
were kept quiet, and their wants everywhere relieved, as far as was possible to
be done.
Two things besides this contributed to prevent the mob doing
any mischief. One was, that really the rich themselves had not laid up stores
of provisions in their houses as indeed they ought to have done, and which if
they had been wise enough to have done, and locked themselves entirely up, as
some few did, they had perhaps escaped the disease better. But as it appeared
they had not, so the mob had no notion of finding stores of provisions there if
they had broken in as it is plain they were sometimes very near doing, and
which: if they had, they had finished the ruin of the whole city, for there
were no regular troops to have withstood them, nor could the trained bands have
been brought together to defend the city, no men being to be found to bear
arms.
But the vigilance of the Lord Mayor and such magistrates as
could be had (for some, even of the aldermen, were dead, and some absent)
prevented this; and they did it by the most kind and gentle methods they could
think of, as particularly by relieving the most desperate with money, and
putting others into business, and particularly that employment of watching
houses that were infected and shut up. And as the number of these were very
great (for it was said there was at one time ten thousand houses shut up, and
every house had two watchmen to guard it, viz., one by night and the other by
day), this gave opportunity to employ a very great number of poor men at a
time.
The women and servants that were turned off from their
places were likewise employed as nurses to tend the sick in all places, and
this took off a very great number of them.
And, which though a melancholy article in itself, yet was a
deliverance in its kind: namely, the plague, which raged in a dreadful manner
from the middle of August to the middle of October, carried off in that time
thirty or forty thousand of these very people which, had they been left, would
certainly have been an insufferable burden by their poverty; that is to say,
the whole city could not have supported the expense of them, or have provided
food for them; and they would in time have been even driven to the necessity of
plundering either the city itself or the country adjacent, to have subsisted
themselves, which would first or last have put the whole nation, as well as the
city, into the utmost terror and confusion.
It was observable, then, that this calamity of the people
made them very humble; for now for about nine weeks together there died near a
thousand a day, one day with another, even by the account of the weekly bills,
which yet, I have reason to be assured, never gave a full account, by many
thousands; the confusion being such, and the carts working in the dark when
they carried the dead, that in some places no account at all was kept, but they
worked on, the clerks and sextons not attending for weeks together, and not
knowing what number they carried. This account is verified by the following
bills of mortality: —
- Of all the
- Diseases. Plague
From August 8 to August 15 5319 3880
" "
15 " 22
5568 4237
" "
22 " 29
7496 6102
" "
29 to September 5
8252 6988
" September 5 " 12
7690 6544
" "
12 " 19
8297 7165
" "
19 " 26
6460 5533
" "
26 to October 3 5720 4979
" October
3 " 10
5068 4327
- ——- ——-
-
59,870 49,705
So that the gross of the people were carried off in these
two months; for, as the whole number which was brought in to die of the plague
was but 68,590, here is 50,000 of them, within a trifle, in two months; I say
50,000, because, as there wants 295 in the number above, so there wants two
days of two months in the account of time.
Now when I say that the parish officers did not give in a full
account, or were not to be depended upon for their account, let anyone but
consider how men could be exact in such a time of dreadful distress, and when
many of them were taken sick themselves and perhaps died in the very time when
their accounts were to be given in; I mean the parish clerks, besides inferior
officers; for though these poor men ventured at all hazards, yet they were far
from being exempt from the common calamity, especially if it be true that the
parish of Stoney had, within the year, 116 sextons, gravediggers, and their
assistants; that is to say, bearers, bellmen, and drivers of carts for carrying
off the dead bodies.
Indeed the work was not of a nature to allow them leisure to
take an exact tale of the dead bodies, which were all huddled together in the
dark into a pit; which pit or trench no man could come nigh but at the utmost
peril. I observed often that in the parishes of Landgate and Cripple gate, Whitechapel
and Stoney, there were five, six, seven, and eight hundred in a week in the
bills; whereas if we may believe the opinion of those that lived in the city
all the time as well as I, there died sometimes 2000 a week in those parishes;
and I saw it under the hand of one that made as strict an examination into that
part as he could, that there really died an hundred thousand people of the
plague in that one year whereas in the bills, the articles of the plague, it
was but 68,590.
If I may be allowed to give my opinion, by what I saw with
my eyes and heard from other people that were eye-witnesses, I do verily
believe the same, viz., that there died at least 100,000 of the plague only,
besides other distempers and besides those which died in the fields and
highways and secret Places out of the compass of the communication, as it was
called, and who were not put down in the bills though they really belonged to
the body of the inhabitants. It was known to us all that abundance of poor
despairing creatures who had the distemper upon them, and were grown stupid or
melancholy by their misery, as many were, wandered away into the fields and
Woods, and into secret uncouth places almost anywhere, to creep into a bush or
hedge and die.
The inhabitants of the villages adjacent would, in pity,
carry them food and set it at a distance, that they might fetch it, if they
were able; and sometimes they were not able, and the next time they went they
should find the poor wretches lie dead and the food untouched. The number of
these miserable objects were many, and I know so many that perished thus, and
so exactly where, that I believe I could go to the very place and dig their
bones up still; for the country people would go and dig a hole at a distance
from them, and then with long poles, and hooks at the end of them, drag the
bodies into these pits, and then throw the earth in from as far as they could
cast it, to cover them, taking notice how the wind blew, and so coming on that
side which the seamen call to windward, that the scent of the bodies might blow
from them; and thus great numbers went out of the world who were never known,
or any account of them taken, as well within the bills of mortality as without.
This, indeed, I had in the main only from the relation of
others, for I seldom walked into the fields, except towards Bethan Green and
Hackney, or as hereafter. But when I did walk, I always saw a great many poor
wanderers at a distance; but I could know little of their cases, for whether it
were in the street or in the fields, if we had seen anybody coming, it was a
general method to walk away; yet I believe the account is exactly true.
As this puts me upon mentioning my walking the streets and
fields, I cannot omit taking notice what a desolate place the city was at that
time. The great street I lived in (which is known to be one of the broadest of
all the streets of London, I mean of the suburbs as well as the liberties) all
the side where the butchers lived, especially without the bars, was more like a
green field than a paved street, and the people generally went in the middle
with the horses and carts. It is true that the farthest end towards Whitechapel
Church was not all paved, but even the part that was paved was full of grass
also; but this need not seem strange, since the great streets within the city,
such as Leadenhall Street, Bishopsgate Street, Cornhill, and even the Exchange
itself, had grass growing in them in several places; neither cart or coach were
seen in the streets from morning to evening, except some country carts to bring
roots and beans, or peas, hay, and straw, to the market, and those but very few
compared to what was usual. As for coaches, they were scarce used but to carry sick
people to the pest-house, and to other hospitals, and some few to carry
physicians to such places as they thought fit to venture to visit; for really
coaches were dangerous things, and people did not care to venture into them,
because they did not know who might have been carried in them last, and sick,
infected people were, as I have said, ordinarily carried in them to the
pest-houses, and sometimes people expired in them as they went along.
It is true, when the infection came to such a height as I have
now mentioned, there were very few physicians which cared to stir abroad to
sick houses, and very many of the most eminent of the faculty were dead, as
well as the surgeons also; for now it was indeed a dismal time, and for about a
month together, not taking any notice of the bills of mortality, I believe
there did not die less than 1500 or 1700 a day, one day with another.
One of the worst days we had in the whole time, as I
thought, was in the beginning of September, when, indeed, good people began to
think that God was resolved to make a full end of the people in this miserable
city. This was at that time when the plague was fully come into the eastern
parishes. The parish of Landgate, if I may give my opinion, buried above a
thousand a week for two weeks, though the bills did not say so many;—but it
surrounded me at so dismal a rate that there was not a house in twenty
uninfected in the Minorizes, in Houndsditch, and in those parts of Landgate
parish about the Butcher Row and the alleys over against me. I say, in those places'
death reigned in every corner. Whitechapel parish was in the same condition,
and though much less than the parish I lived in, yet buried near 600 a week by
the bills, and in my opinion near twice as many. Whole families, and indeed
whole streets of families, were swept away together; insomuch that it was
frequent for neighbors to call to the bellman to go to such-and-such houses and
fetch out the people, for that they were all dead.
And, indeed, the work of removing the dead bodies by carts
was now grown so very odious and dangerous that it was complained of that the
bearers did not take care to clear such houses where all the inhabitants were
dead, but that sometimes the bodies lay several days unburied, till the neighboring
families were offended with the stench, and consequently infected; and this
neglect of the officers was such that the churchwardens and constables were summoned
to look after it, and even the justices of the Hamlets were obliged to venture
their lives among them to quicken and encourage them, for innumerable of the
bearers died of the distemper, infected by the bodies they were obliged to come
so near. And had it not been that the number of poor people who wanted
employment and wanted bread (as I have said before) was so great that necessity
drove them to undertake anything and venture anything, they would never have
found people to be employed. And then the bodies of the dead would have lain
above ground and have perished and rotted in a dreadful manner.
But the magistrates cannot be enough commended in this, that
they kept such good order for the burying of the dead, that as fast as any of
these they employed to carry off and bury the dead fell sick or died, as was
many times the case, they immediately supplied the places with others, which,
by reason of the great number of poor that was left out of business, as above,
was not hard to do. This occasioned, that notwithstanding the infinite number
of people which died and were sick, almost all together, yet they were always
cleared away and carried off every night, so that it was never to be said of
London that the living were not able to bury the dead.
As the desolation was greater during those terrible times,
so the amazement of the people increased, and a thousand unaccountable things
they would do in the violence of their fright, as others did the same in the
agonies of their distemper, and this part was very affecting. Some went roaring
and crying and wringing their hands along the street; some would go praying and
lifting their hands to heaven, calling upon God for mercy. I cannot say,
indeed, whether this was not in their distraction, but, be it so, it was still
an indication of a more serious mind, when they had the use of their senses,
and was much better, even as it was, than the frightful yelling's and crying
that every day, and especially in the evenings, were heard in some streets. I
suppose the world has heard of the famous Solomon Eagle, an enthusiast. He,
though not infected at all but in his head, went about denouncing of judgement
upon the city in a frightful manner, sometimes quite naked, and with a pan of
burning charcoal on his head. What he said, or pretended, indeed I could not
learn.
I will not say whether that clergyman was distracted or not,
or whether he did it in pure zeal for the poor people, who went every evening
through the streets of Whitechapel, and, with his hands lifted up, repeated
that part of the Liturgy of the Church continually, 'Spare us, good Lord; spare
Thy people, whom Thou has redeemed with Thy most precious blood.' I say, I
cannot speak positively of these things, because these were only the dismal
objects which represented themselves to me as I looked through my chamber
windows (for I seldom opened the casements), while I confined myself within
doors during that most violent raging of the pestilence; when, indeed, as I
have said, many began to think, and even to say, that there would none escape;
and indeed I began to think so too, and therefore kept within doors for about a
fortnight and never stirred out. But I could not hold it. Besides, there were
some people who, notwithstanding the danger, did not omit publicly to attend
the worship of God, even in the most dangerous times; and though it is true
that a great many clergymen did shut up their churches, and fled, as other
people did, for the safety of their lives, yet all did not do so. Some ventured
to officiate and to keep up the assemblies of the people by constant prayers,
and sometimes sermons or brief exhortations to repentance and reformation, and
this if any would come to hear them. And Dissenters did the like also, and even
in the very churches where the parish ministers were either dead or fled; nor
was there any room for making difference at such a time as this was.
It was indeed a lamentable thing to hear the miserable
lamentations of poor dying creatures calling out for ministers to comfort them
and pray with them, to counsel them and to direct them, calling out to God for
pardon and mercy, and confessing aloud their past sins. It would make the
stoutest heart bleed to hear how many warnings were then given by dying
penitents to others not to put off and delay their repentance to the day of
distress; that such a time of calamity as this was no time for repentance, was
no time to call upon God. I wish I could repeat the very sound of those groans
and of those exclamations that I heard from some poor dying creatures when in
the height of their agonies and distress, and that I could make him that reads
this hear, as I imagine I now hear them, for the sound seems still to ring in
my ears.
If I could but tell this part in such moving accents as should
alarm the very soul of the reader, I should rejoice that I recorded those
things, however short and imperfect.
It pleased God that I was still spared, and very hearty and
sound in health, but very impatient of being pent up within doors without air,
as I had been for fourteen days or thereabouts; and I could not restrain
myself, but I would go to carry a letter for my brother to the post-house. Then
it was indeed that I observed a profound silence in the streets. When I came to
the post-house, as I went to put in my letter I saw a man stand in one corner
of the yard and talking to another at a window, and a third had opened a door
belonging to the office. In the middle of the yard lay a small leather purse
with two keys hanging at it, with money in it, but nobody would meddle with it.
I asked how long it had lain there; the man at the window said it had lain
almost an hour, but that they had not meddled with it, because they did not
know but the person who dropped it might come back to look for it. I had no such
need of money, nor was the sum so big that I had any inclination to meddle with
it, or to get the money at the hazard it might be attended with; so I seemed to
go away, when the man who had opened the door said he would take it up, but so
that if the right owner came for it he should be sure to have it. So he went in
and fetched a pail of water and set it down hard by the purse, then went again
and fetch some gunpowder, and cast a good deal of powder upon the purse, and
then made a train from that which he had thrown loose upon the purse. The train
reached about two yards. After this he goes in a third time and fetches out a
pair of tongs red hot, and which he had prepared, I suppose, on purpose; and
first setting fire to the train of powder, that singed the purse and also
smoked the air sufficiently. But he was not content with that, but he then
takes up the purse with the tongs, holding it so long till the tongs burnt
through the purse, and then he shook the money out into the pail of water, so he
carried it in. The money, as I remember, was about thirteen shilling and some
smooth groats and brass farthings.
There might perhaps have been several poor people, as I have
observed above, that would have been hardy enough to have ventured for the sake
of the money; but you may easily see by what I have observed that the few
people who were spared were very careful of themselves at that time when the
distress was so exceeding great.
Much about the same time I walked out into the fields
towards Bow; for I had a great mind to see how things were managed in the river
and among the ships; and as I had some concern in shipping, I had a notion that
it had been one of the best ways of securing one's self from the infection to
have retired into a ship; and musing how to satisfy my curiosity in that point,
I turned away over the fields from Bow to Bromley, and down to Blackwell to the
stairs which are there for landing or taking water.
Here I saw a poor man walking on the bank, or seawall, as
they call it, by himself. I walked a while also about, seeing the houses all
shut up. At last I fell into some talk, at a distance, with this poor man;
first I asked him how people did thereabouts. 'Alas, sir!' says he, 'almost
desolate; all dead or sick. Here are very few families in this part, or in that
village' (pointing at Poplar), 'where half of them are not dead already, and
the rest sick.' Then he pointing to one house, 'There they are all dead', said
he, 'and the house stands open; nobody dares go into it. A poor thief', says he,
'ventured in to steal something, but he paid dear for his theft, for he was
carried to the churchyard too last night.' Then he pointed to several other
houses. 'There', says he, 'they are all dead, the man and his wife, and five
children. There', says he, 'they are shut up; you see a watchman at the door';
and so, of other houses. 'Why,' says I, 'what do you here all alone?' 'Why,'
says he, 'I am a poor, desolate man; it has pleased God I am not yet visited,
though my family is, and one of my children dead.' 'How do you mean, then,'
said I, 'that you are not visited?' 'Why,' says he, 'that's my house' (pointing
to a very little, low-boarded house), 'and there my poor wife and two children
live,' said he, 'if they may be said to live, for my wife and one of the
children are visited, but I do not come at them.' And with that word I saw the
tears run very plentifully down his face; and so, they did down mine too, I
assure you.
'But,' said I, 'why do you not come at them? How can you
abandon your own flesh and blood?' 'Oh, sir,' says he, 'the Lord forbid! I do
not abandon them; I work for them as much as I am able; and, blessed be the
Lord, I keep them from want'; and with that I observed he lifted up his eyes to
heaven, with a countenance that presently told me I had happened on a man that
was no hypocrite, but a serious, religious, good man, and his ejaculation was
an expression of thankfulness that, in such a condition as he was in, he should
be able to say his family did not want. 'Well,' says I, 'honest man, that is a
great mercy as things go now with the poor. But how do you live, then, and how
are you kept from the dreadful calamity that is now upon us all?' 'Why, sir,'
says he, 'I am a waterman, and there's my boat,' says he, 'and the boat serves
me for a house. I work in it in the day, and I sleep in it in the night; and
what I get I lay down upon that stone,' says he, showing me a broad stone on
the other side of the street, a good way from his house; 'and then,' says he,
'I halloo, and call to them till I make them hear; and they come and fetch it.'
'Well, friend,' says I, 'but how can you get any money as a
waterman? Does anybody go by water these times?' 'Yes, sir,' says he, 'in the
way I am employed there does. Do you see there,' says he, 'five ships lie at
anchor' (pointing down the river a good way below the town), 'and do you see',
says he, 'eight or ten ships lie at the chain there, and at anchor yonder?'
(pointing above the town). 'All those ships have families on board, of their
merchants and owners, and such-like, who have locked themselves up and live on
board, close shut in, for fear of the infection; and I tend on them to fetch
things for them, carry letters, and do what is absolutely necessary, that they
may not be obliged to come on shore; and every night I fasten my boat on board
one of the ship's boats, and there I sleep by myself, and, blessed be God, I am
preserved hitherto.'
'Well,' said I, 'friend, but will they let you come on board
after you have been on shore here, when this is such a terrible place, and so
infected as it is?'
'Why, as to that,' said he, 'I very seldom go up the shipside,
but deliver what I bring to their boat, or lie by the side, and they hoist it
on board. If I did, I think they are in no danger from me, for I never go into
any house on shore, or touch anybody, no, not of my own family; but I fetch
provisions for them.'
'Nay,' says I, 'but that may be worse, for you must have
those provisions of somebody or other; and since all this part of the town is
so infected, it is dangerous so much as to speak with anybody, for the
village', said I, 'is, as it were, the beginning of London, though it be at
some distance from it.'
'That is true,' added he; 'but you do not understand me
right; I do not buy provisions for them here. I grow up to Greenwich and buy
fresh meat there, and sometimes I row down the river to Woolwich and buy there;
then I go to single farm-houses on the Kentish side, where I am known, and buy
fowls and eggs and butter, and bring to the ships, as they direct me, sometimes
one, sometimes the other. I seldom come on shore here, and I came now only to
call on my wife and hear how my family do, and give them a little money, which
I received last night.'
'Poor man!' said I; 'and how much hast thou gotten for them?'
'I have gotten four shillings,' said he, 'which is a great
sum, as things go now with poor men; but they have given me a bag of bread too,
and a salt fish and some flesh; so all helps out.' 'Well,' said I, 'and have
you given it them yet?'
'No,' said he; 'but I have called, and my wife has answered
that she cannot come out yet, but in half-an-hour she hopes to come, and I am
waiting for her. Poor woman!' says he, 'she is brought sadly down. She has a
swelling, and it is broke, and I hope she will recover; but I fear the child
will die, but it is the Lord—'
Here he stopped and wept very much.
'Well, honest friend,' said I, 'thou hast a sure Comforter,
if thou hast brought thyself to be resigned to the will of God; He is dealing
with us all in judgement.'
'Oh, sir!' says he, 'it is infinite mercy if any of us are
spared, and who am I to repine!'
'Safest thou so?' said I, 'and how much less is my faith
than thine?' And here my heart smote me, suggesting how much better this poor
man's foundation was on which he stayed in the danger than mine; that he had
nowhere to fly; that he had a family to bind him to attendance, which I had
not; and mine was mere presumption, his a true dependence and a courage resting
on God; and yet that he used all possible caution for his safety.
I turned a little way from the man while these thoughts
engaged me, for, indeed, I could no more refrain from tears than he.
At length, after some further talk, the poor woman opened
the door and called, 'Robert, Robert'. He answered, and bid her stay a few
moments and he would come; so he ran down the common stairs to his boat and
fetched up a sack, in which was the provisions he had brought from the ships;
and when he returned he hallooed again. Then he went to the great stone which
he showed me and emptied the sack, and laid all out, everything by themselves,
and then retired; and his wife came with a little boy to fetch them away, and
called and said such a captain had sent such a thing, and such a captain such a
thing, and at the end adds, 'God has sent it all; give thanks to Him.' When the
poor woman had taken up all, she was so weak she could not carry it at once in,
though the weight was not much neither; so she left the biscuit, which was in a
little bag, and left a little boy to watch it till she came again.
'Well, but', says I to him, 'did you leave her the four
shillings too, which you said was your week's pay?'
'Yes, yes,' says he; 'you shall hear her own it.' So, he
calls again, 'Rachel, Rachel,' which it seems was her name, 'did you take up
the money?' 'Yes,' said she. 'How much was it?' said he. 'Four shillings and a great,'
said she. 'Well, well,' says he, 'the Lord keep you all'; and so, he turned to
go away.
As I could not refrain contributing tears to this man's
story, so neither could I refrain my charity for his assistance. So I called
him, 'Hark thee, friend,' said I, 'come hither, for I believe thou art in
health, that I may venture thee'; so I pulled out my hand, which was in my
pocket before, 'Here,' says I, 'go and call thy Rachel once more, and give her
a little more comfort from me. God will never forsake a family that trust in
Him as thou dost.' So, I gave him four other shillings, and bid him go lay them
on the stone and call his wife.
I have not words to express the poor man's thankfulness,
neither could he express it himself but by tears running down his face. He
called his wife and told her God had moved the heart of a stranger, upon
hearing their condition, to give them all that money, and a great deal more
such as that he said to her. The woman, too, made signs of the like
thankfulness, as well to Heaven as to me, and joyfully picked it up; and I
parted with no money all that year that I thought better bestowed.
I then asked the poor man if the distemper had not reached
to Greenwich. He said it had not till about a fortnight before; but that then
he feared it had, but that it was only at that end of the town which lay south
towards Deptford Bridge; that he went only to a butcher's shop and a grocer's,
where he generally bought such things as they sent him for, but was very
careful.
I asked him then how it came to pass that those people who
had so shut themselves up in the ships had not laid in enough stores of all
things necessary. He said some of them had—but, on the other hand, some did not
come on board till they were freighted into it and till it was too dangerous
for them to go to the proper people to lay in quantities of things, and that he
waited on two ships, which he showed me, that had laid in little or nothing but
biscuit bread and ship beer, and that he had bought everything else almost for
them. I asked him if there were any more ships that had separated themselves as
those had done. He told me yes, all the way up from the point, right against
Greenwich, to within the shore of Limehouse and Rediff, all the ships that
could have room rid two and two in the middle of the stream, and that some of
them had several families on board. I asked him if the distemper had not
reached them. He said he believed it had not, except two or three ships whose
people had not been so watchful to keep the seamen from going on shore as
others had been, and he said it was a very fine sight to see how the ships lay
up the Pool.
When he said he was going over to Greenwich as soon as the
tide began to come in, I asked if he would let me go with him and bring me
back, for that I had a great mind to see how the ships were ranged, as he had
told me. He told me, if I would assure him on the word of a Christian and of an
honest man that I had not the distemper, he would. I assured him that I had
not; that it had pleased God to preserve me; that I lived in Whitechapel, but
was too impatient of being so long within doors, and that I had ventured out so
far for the refreshment of a little air, but that none in my house had so much has
been touched with it.
Well, sir,' says he, 'as your charity has been moved to pity
me and my poor family, sure you cannot have so little pity left as to put yourself
into my boat if you were not sound in health which would be nothing less than
killing me and ruining my whole family.' The poor man troubled me so much when
he spoke of his family with such a sensible concern and in such an affectionate
manner, that I could not satisfy myself at first to go at all. I told him I
would lay aside my curiosity rather than make him uneasy, though I was sure,
and very thankful for it, that I had no more distemper upon me than the
freshest man in the world. Well, he would not have me put it off neither, but
to let me see how confident he was that I was just to him, now importuned me to
go; so when the tide came up to his boat I went in, and he carried me to
Greenwich. While he bought the things which he had in his charge to buy, I
walked up to the top of the hill under which the town stands, and on the east
side of the town, to get a prospect of the river. But it was a surprising sight
to see the number of ships which lay in rows, two and two, and some places two
or three such lines in the breadth of the river, and this not only up quite to
the town, between the houses which we call Ratcliff and Rediff, which they name
the Pool, but even down the whole river as far as the head of Long Reach, which
is as far as the hills give us leave to see it.
I cannot guess at the number of ships, but I think there
must be several hundreds of sail; and I could not but applaud the contrivance:
for ten thousand people and more who attended ship affairs were certainly
sheltered here from the violence of the contagion, and lived very safe and very
easy.
I returned to my own dwelling very well satisfied with my
day's journey, and particularly with the poor man; also, I rejoiced to see that
such little sanctuaries were provided for so many families in a time of such
desolation. I observed also that, as the violence of the plague had increased,
so the ships which had families on board removed and went farther off, till, as
I was told, some went quite away to sea, and put into such harbors and safe
roads on the north coast as they could best come at.
But it was also true that all the people who thus left the
land and lived on board the ships were not entirely safe from the infection,
for many died and were thrown overboard into the river, some in coffins, and
some, as I heard, without coffins, whose bodies were seen sometimes to drive up
and down with the tide in the river.
But I believe I may venture to say that in those ships which
were thus infected it either happened where the people had recourse to them too
late, and did not fly to the ship till they had stayed too long on shore and
had the distemper upon them (though perhaps they might not perceive it) and so
the distemper did not come to them on board the ships, but they really carried
it with them; or it was in these ships where the poor waterman said they had
not had time to furnish themselves with provisions, but were obliged to send
often on shore to buy what they had occasion for, or suffered boats to come to
them from the shore. And so, the distemper was brought insensibly among them.
And here I cannot but take notice that the strange temper of
the people of London at that time contributed extremely to their own
destruction. The plague began, as I have observed, at the other end of the town,
namely, in Long Acre, Drury Lane, &c., and came on towards the city very
gradually and slowly. It was felt at first in December, then again in February,
then again in April, and always but a very little at a time; then it stopped
till May, and even the last week in May there was but seventeen, and all at
that end of the town; and all this while, even so long as till there died above
3000 a week, yet had the people in Rediff, and in Wrapping and Ratcliff, on
both sides of the river, and almost all Southwark side, a mighty fancy that
they should not be visited, or at least that it would not be so violent among
them. Some people fancied the smell of the pitch and tar, and such other things
as oil and rosin and brimstone, which is so much used by all trades relating to
shipping, would preserve them. Others argued it, because it was in its extremist
violence in Westminster and the parish of St Giles and St Andrew, &c., and
began to abate again before it came among them—which was true indeed, in part.
For example—
From the 8th to
the 15th August—
- St Giles-in-the-Fields 242
- Cripple gate 886
- Stoney 197
- St Margaret, Barondess 24
- Rotherhithe 3
- Total this week 4030
From the 15th to
the 22nd August—
- St Giles-in-the-Fields 175
- Cripple gate 847
- Stoney
273
- St Margaret, Barondess 36
- Rotherhithe 2
- Total this week 5319
N.B.—That it was observed the numbers mentioned in Stoney
parish at that time were generally all on that side where Stoney parish joined
to Shore ditch, which we now call Spittle fields, where the parish of Stoney
comes up to the very wall of Shore ditch Churchyard, and the plague at this
time was abated at St Giles-in-the-Fields, and raged most violently in Cripple
gate, Bishopsgate, and Shore ditch parishes; but there was not ten people a
week that died of it in all that part of Stoney parish which takes in
Limehouse, Ratcliff Highway, and which are now the parishes of Shadwell and Wrapping,
even to St Katherine's by the Tower, till after the whole month of August was
expired. But they paid for it afterwards, as I shall observe by-and-by.
This, I say, made the people of Rediff and Wrapping,
Ratcliff and Limehouse, so secure, and flatter themselves so much with the
plague's going off without reaching them, that they took no care either to fly
into the country or shut themselves up. Nay, so far were they from stirring
that they rather received their friends and relations from the city into their
houses, and several from other places really took sanctuary in that part of the
town as a Place of safety, and as a place which they thought God would pass
over, and not visit as the rest was visited.
And this was the reason that when it came upon them they
were more surprised, more unprovided, and more at a loss what to do than they
were in other places; for when it came among them really and with violence, as
it did indeed in September and October, there was then no stirring out into the
country, nobody would suffer a stranger to come near them, no, nor near the
towns where they dwelt; and, as I have been told, several that wandered into
the country on Surrey side were found starved to death in the woods and
commons, that country being more open and more woody than any other part so
near London, especially about Norwood and the parishes of Camber well, Delegee,
and Kusum, where, it seems, nobody durst relieve the poor distressed people for
fear of the infection.
This notion having, as I said, prevailed with the people in
that part of the town, was in part the occasion, as I said before, that they
had recourse to ships for their retreat; and where they did this early and with
prudence, furnishing themselves so with provisions that they had no need to go
on shore for supplies or suffer boats to come on board to bring them,—I say,
where they did so they had certainly the safest retreat of any people
whatsoever; but the distress was such that people ran on board, in their
fright, without bread to eat, and some into ships that had no men on board to
remove them farther off, or to take the boat and go down the river to buy
provisions where it might be done safely, and these often suffered and were
infected on board as much as on shore.
As the richer sort got into ships, so the lower rank got
into hoys, smacks, lighters, and fishing-boats; and many, especially watermen,
lay in their boats; but those made sad work of it, especially the latter, for,
going about for provision, and perhaps to get their subsistence, the infection
got in among them and made a fearful havoc; many of the watermen died alone in
their wherries as they rid at their roads, as well as above bridge as below, and
were not found sometimes till they were not in condition for anybody to touch
or come near them.
Indeed, the distress of the people at this seafaring end of
the town was very deplorable and deserved the greatest commiseration. But,
alas! this was a time when every one's private safety lay so near them that
they had no room to pity the distresses of others; for everyone had death, as it
were, at his door, and many even in their families, and knew not what to do or
whither to fly.
This, I say, took away all compassion; self-preservation,
indeed, appeared here to be the first law. For the children ran away from their
parents as they languished in the utmost distress. And in some places, though
not so frequent as the other, parents did the like to their children; nay, some
dreadful examples there were, and particularly two in one week, of distressed
mothers, raving and distracted, killing their own children; one whereof was not
far off from where I dwelt, the poor lunatic creature not living herself long
enough to be sensible of the sin of what she had done, much less to be punished
for it.
It is not, indeed, to be wondered at: for the danger of
immediate death to we took away all bowels of love, all concern for one
another. I speak in general, for there were many instances of immovable
affection, pity, and duty in many, and some that came to my knowledge, that is
to say, by hearsay; for I shall not take upon me to vouch the truth of the
particulars.
To introduce one, let me first mention that one of the most
deplorable cases in all the present calamity was that of women with child, who,
when they came to the hour of their sorrows, and their pains come upon them,
could neither have help of one kind or another; neither midwife or neighboring
women to come near them. Most of the midwives were dead, especially of such as
served the poor; and many, if not all the midwives of note, were fled into the
country; so that it was next to impossible for a poor woman that could not pay
an immoderate price to get any midwife to come to her—and if they did, those
they could get were generally unskillful and ignorant creatures; and the
consequence of this was that a most unusual and incredible number of women were
reduced to the utmost distress. Some were delivered and spoiled by the rashness
and ignorance of those who pretended to lay them. Children without number were,
I might say, murdered by the same but a more justifiable ignorance: pretending
they would save the mother, whatever became of the child; and many times both
mother and child were lost in the same manner; and especially where the mother
had the distemper, there nobody would come near them and both sometimes
perished. Sometimes the mother has died of the plague, and the infant, it may
be, half born, or born but not parted from the mother. Some died in the very
pains of their travail, and not delivered at all; and so many were the cases of
this kind that it is hard to judge of them.
Something of it will appear in the unusual numbers which are
put into the weekly bills (though I am far from allowing them to be able to
give anything of a full account) under the articles of—
Childbed.
Abortive and Still
born.
Chrisoms and
Infants.
Take the weeks in which the plague was most violent and
compare them with the weeks before the distemper began, even in the same year.
For example: —
Childbed.
Abortive. Still born.
From January 3 to January
10 7 1 13
" "
10 " 17
8 6 11
" "
17 " 24
9 5 15
" "
24 " 31
3 2 9
" "
31 to February 7 3
3 8
" February
7 " 14
6 2 11
"
" 14 " 21
5 2 13
" "
21 " 28
2 2 10
" "
28 to March 7 5
1 10
- —- —-
——
- 48 24 100
From August 1 to
August 8 25
5 11
" "
8 " 15
23 6 8
" "
15 " 22
28 4 4
" "
22 " 29
40 6 10
" "
29 to September 5 38
2 11
September 5 " 12
39 23 ...
" "
12 " 19
42 5 17
" "
19 " 26
42 6 10
" "
26 to October 3 14
4 9
- —- —
—-
- 291 61 80
To the disparity of these numbers it is to be considered and
allowed for, that according to our usual opinion who were then upon the spot,
there were not one-third of the people in the town during the months of August
and September as were in the months of January and February. In a word, the
usual number that used to die of these three articles, and, as I hear, did die
of them the year before, was thus: —
1664. 1665.
Childbed 189 Childbed 625
Abortive and
still-born 458 Abortive and still-born 617
- —— ——
- 647 1242
This inequality, I say, is exceedingly augmented when the
numbers of people are considered. I pretend not to make any exact calculation
of the numbers of people which were at this time in the city, but I shall make
a probable conjecture at that part by-and-by. What I have said now is to
explain the misery of those poor creatures above; so that it might well be
said, as in the Scripture, Woe be to those who are with child, and to those
which give suck in that day. For, indeed, it was a woe to them.
I was not conversant in many families where these things
happened, but the outcries of the miserable were heard afar off. As to those
who were with child, we have seen some calculation made; 291 women dead in childbed
in nine weeks, out of one-third part of the number of whom there usually died
in that time but eighty-four of the same disaster. Let the reader calculate the
proportion.
There is no room to doubt but the misery of those that gave
suck was in proportion as great. Our bills of mortality could give but little
light in this, yet some it did. There were several more than usual starved at
nurse, but this was nothing. The misery was where they were, first, starved for
want of a nurse, the mother dying and all the family and the infants found dead
by them, merely for want; and, if I may speak my opinion, I do believe that
many hundreds of poor helpless infants perished in this manner. Secondly, not
starved, but poisoned by the nurse. Nay, even where the mother has been nurse,
and having received the infection, has poisoned, that is, infected the infant
with her milk even before they knew they were infected themselves; nay, and the
infant has died in such a case before the mother. I cannot but remember to
leave this admonition upon record, if ever such another dreadful visitation
should happen in this city, that all women that are with child or that give
suck should be gone, if they have any possible means, out of the place, because
their misery, if infected, will so much exceed all other people's.
I could tell here dismal stories of living infants being
found sucking the breasts of their mothers, or nurses, after they have been
dead of the plague. Of a mother in the parish where I lived, who, having a
child that was not well, sent for an apothecary to view the child; and when he
came, as the relation goes, was giving the child suck at her breast, and to all
appearance was herself very well; but when the apothecary came close to her he
saw the tokens upon that breast with which she was suckling the child. He was
surprised enough, to be sure, but, not willing to fright the poor woman too
much, he desired she would give the child into his hand; so he takes the child,
and going to a cradle in the room, lays it in, and opening its cloths, found
the tokens upon the child too, and both died before he could get home to send a
preventive medicine to the father of the child, to whom he had told their
condition. Whether the child infected the nurse-mother or the mother the child
was not certain, but the last most likely. Likewise of a child brought home to
the parents from a nurse that had died of the plague, yet the tender mother
would not refuse to take in her child, and laid it in her bosom, by which she
was infected; and died with the child in her arms dead also.
It would make the hardest heart move at the instances that
were frequently found of tender mothers tending and watching with their dear
children, and even dying before them, and sometimes taking the distemper from
them and dying, when the child for whom the affectionate heart had been
sacrificed has got over it and escaped.
The like of a tradesman in East Smithfield, whose wife was
big with child of her first child, and fell in labor, having the plague upon
her. He could neither get midwife to assist her or nurse to tend her, and two
servants which he kept fled both from her. He ran from house to house like one distracted
but could get no help; the utmost he could get was, that a watchman, who
attended at an infected house shut up, promised to send a nurse in the morning.
The poor man, with his heart broke, went back, assisted his wife what he could,
acted the part of the midwife, brought the child dead into the world, and his
wife in about an hour died in his arms, where he held her dead body fast till
the morning, when the watchman came and brought the nurse as he had promised;
and coming up the stairs (for he had left the door open, or only latched), they
found the man sitting with his dead wife in his arms, and so overwhelmed with
grief that he died in a few hours after without any sign of the infection upon
him, but merely sunk under the weight of his grief.
I have heard also of some who, on the death of their
relations, have grown stupid with the insupportable sorrow; and of one, in
particular, who was so absolutely overcome with the pressure upon his spirits
that by degrees his head sank into his body, so between his shoulders that the
crown of his head was very little seen above the bone of his shoulders; and by
degrees losing both voice and sense, his face, looking forward, lay against his
collarbone and could not be kept up any otherwise, unless held up by the hands
of other people; and the poor man never came to himself again, but languished
near a year in that condition, and died. Nor was he ever once seen to lift his
eyes or to look upon any object.
I cannot undertake to give any other than a summary of such
passages as these, because it was not possible to come at the, where sometimes
the whole families where such things happened were carried off by the
distemper. But there were innumerable cases of this kind which presented to the
eye and the ear, even in passing along the streets, as I have hinted above. Nor
is it easy to give any story of this or that family which there was not divers
parallel stories to be met with of the same kind.
But as I am now talking of the time when the plague raged at
the easternmost part of the town—how for a long time the people of those parts
had flattered themselves that they should escape, and how they were surprised
when it came upon them as it did; for, indeed, it came upon them like an armed
man when it did come;—I say, this brings me back to the three poor men who wandered
from Wrapping, not knowing whither to go or what to do, and whom I mentioned
before; one a biscuit-baker, one a sailmaker, and the other a joiner, all of Wrapping,
or there-abouts.
The sleepiness and security of that part, as I have
observed, was such that they not only did not shift for themselves as others
did, but they boasted of being safe, and of safety being with them; and many
people fled out of the city, and out of the infected suburbs, to Wrapping,
Ratcliff, Limehouse, Poplar, and such Places, as to Places of security; and it
is not at all unlikely that their doing this helped to bring the plague that
way faster than it might otherwise have come. For though I am much for people
flying away and emptying such a town as this upon the first appearance of a
like visitation, and that all people who have any possible retreat should make
use of it in time and be gone, yet I must say, when all that will fly are gone,
those that are left and must stand it should stand stock-still where they are,
and not shift from one end of the town or one part of the town to the other;
for that is the bane and mischief of the whole, and they carry the plague from
house to house in their very clothes.
Wherefore were we ordered to kill all the dogs and cats, but
because as they were domestic animals, and are apt to run from house to house
and from street to street, so they are capable of carrying the effluvia or
infectious streams of bodies infected even in their furs and hair? And
therefore it was that, in the beginning of the infection, an order was
published by the Lord Mayor, and by the magistrates, according to the advice of
the physicians, that all the dogs and cats should be immediately killed, and an
officer was appointed for the execution.
It is incredible, if their account is to be depended upon,
what a prodigious number of those creatures were destroyed. I think they talked
of forty thousand dogs, and five times as many cats: few houses being without a
cat, some having several, sometimes five or six in a house. All possible endeavors
were used also to destroy the mice and rats, especially the latter, by laying rats
bane and other poisons for them, and a prodigious multitude of them were also
destroyed.
I often reflected upon the unprovided condition that the
whole body of the people were in at the first coming of this calamity upon
them, and how it was for want of timely entering into measures and managements,
as well public as private, that all the confusions that followed were brought
upon us, and that such a prodigious number of people sank in that disaster,
which, if proper steps had been taken, might, Providence concurring, have been
avoided, and which, if posterity think fit, they may take a caution and warning
from. But I shall come to this part again.
I come back to my three men. Their story has a moral in
every part of it, and their whole conduct, and that of some whom they joined
with, is a pattern for all poor men to follow, or women either, if ever such a
time comes again; and if there was no other end in recording it, I think this a
very just one, whether my account be exactly according to fact or no.
Two of them are said to be brothers, the one an old soldier,
but now a biscuit-maker; the other a lame sailor, but now a sailmaker; the
third a joiner. Says John the biscuit-maker one day to Thomas his brother, the
sailmaker, 'Brother Tom, what will become of us? The plague grows hot in the city
and increases this way. What shall we do?'
'Truly,' says Thomas, 'I am at a great loss what to do, for
I find if it comes down into Wrapping, I shall be turned out of my lodging.'
And thus, they began to talk of it beforehand.
John. Turned out of your lodging, Tom! If you are, I don't
know who will take you in; for people are so afraid of one another now, there's
no getting a lodging anywhere.
Thomas. Why, the people where I lodge are good, civil
people, and have kindness enough for me too; but they say I go abroad every day
to my work, and it will be dangerous; and they talk of locking themselves up
and letting nobody come near them.
John. Why, they are in the right, to be sure, if they
resolve to venture staying in town.
Thomas. Nay, I might even resolve to stay within doors too,
for, except a suit of sails that my master has in hand, and which I am just
finishing, I am like to get no more work a great while. There are no trade
stirs now. Workmen and servants are turned off everywhere, so that I might be
glad to be locked up too; but I do not see they will be willing to consent to
that, any more than to the other.
John. Why, what will you do then, brother? And what shall I
do? for I am almost as bad as you. The people where I lodge are all gone into
the country but a maid, and she is to go next week, and to shut the house quite
up, so that I shall be turned adrift to the wide world before you, and I am
resolved to go away too, if I knew but where to go.
Thomas. We were both distracted we did not go away at first;
then we might have travelled anywhere. There's no stirring now; we shall be
starved if we pretend to go out of town. They won't let us have victuals, no,
not for our money, nor let us come into the towns, much less into their houses.
John. And that which is almost as bad, I have but little money
to help myself with neither.
Thomas. As to that, we might makeshift, I have a little,
though not much; but I tell you there's no stirring on the road. I know a
couple of poor honest men in our street have attempted to travel, and at
Barnet, or Whetstone, or thereabouts, the people offered to fire at them if
they pretended to go forward, so they are come back again quite discouraged.
John. I would have ventured their fire if I had been there.
If I had been denied food for my money, they should have seen me take it before
their faces, and if I had tendered money for it, they could not have taken any
course with me by law.
Thomas. You talk your old soldier's language, as if you were
in the Low Countries now, but this is a serious thing. The people have good
reason to keep anybody off that they are not satisfied are sound, at such a
time as this, and we must not plunder them.
John. No, brother, you mistake the case, and mistake me too.
I would plunder nobody; but for any town upon the road to deny me leave to pass
through the town in the open highway, and deny me provisions for my money, is
to say the town has a right to starve me to death, which cannot be true.
Thomas. But they do not deny you liberty to go back again
from whence you came, and therefore they do not starve you.
John. But the next town behind me will, by the same rule,
deny me leave to go back, and so they do starve me between them. Besides, there
is no law to prohibit my travelling wherever I will on the road.
Thomas. But there will be so much difficulty in disputing
with them at every town on the road that it is not for poor men to do it or
undertake it, at such a time as this is especially.
John. Why, brother, our condition at this rate is worse than
anybody else's, for we can neither go away nor stay here. I am of the same mind
with the lepers of Samaria: 'If we stay here we are sure to die', I mean
especially as you and I are stated, without a dwelling-house of our own, and
without lodging in anybody else's. There is no lying in the street at such a
time as this; we had as good go into the dead-cart at once. Therefore, I say,
if we stay here, we are sure to die, and if we go away, we can but die; I am
resolved to be gone.
Thomas. You will go away. Whither will you go, and what can
you do? I would as willingly go away as you, if I knew whither. But we have no
acquaintance, no friends. Here we were born, and here we must die.
John. Look you, Tom, the whole kingdom is my native country
as well as this town. You may as well say I must not go out of my house if it
is on fire as that I must not go out of the town I was born in when it is
infected with the plague. I was born in England and have a right to live in it
if I can.
Thomas. But you know every vagrant person may by the laws of
England be taken up and passed back to their last legal settlement.
John. But how shall they make me vagrant? I desire only to
travel on, upon my lawful occasions.
Thomas. What lawful occasions can we pretend to travel, or
rather wander upon? They will not be put off with words.
John. Is not flying to save our lives a lawful occasion? And
do they not all know that the fact is true? We cannot be said to dissemble.
Thomas. But suppose they let us pass, whither shall we go?
John. Anywhere, to save our lives; it is time enough to
consider that when we are got out of this town. If I am once out of this dreadful
place, I care not where I go.
Thomas. We shall be driven to great extremities. I know not
what to think of it.
John. Well, Tom, consider of it a little.
This was about the beginning of July; and though the plague
was come forward in the west and north parts of the town, yet all Wrapping, as
I have observed before, and Rediff, and Ratliff, and Limehouse, and Poplar, in
short, Deptford and Greenwich, all both sides of the river from the Hermitage,
and from over against it, quite down to Blackwell, was entirely free; there had
not one person died of the plague in all Stoney parish, and not one on the
south side of Whitechapel Road, no, not in any parish; and yet the weekly bill
was that very week risen up to 1006.
It was a fortnight after this before the two brothers met
again, and then the case was a little altered, and the plague was exceedingly
advanced and the number greatly increased; the bill was up at 2785, and
prodigiously increasing, though still both sides of the river, as below, kept
pretty well. But some began to die in Rediff, and about five or six in Ratcliff
Highway, when the sailmaker came to his brother John express, and in some
fright; for he was absolutely warned out of his lodging, and had only a week to
provide himself. His brother John was in as bad a case, for he was quite out,
and had only begged leave of his master, the biscuit-maker, to lodge in an
outhouse belonging to his workhouse, where he only lay upon straw, with some
biscuit-sacks, or bread-sacks, as they called them, laid upon it, and some of
the same sacks to cover him.
Here they resolved (seeing all employment being at an end,
and no work or wages to be had), they would make the best of their way to get
out of the reach of the dreadful infection, and, being as good husbands as they
could, would endeavor to live upon what they had as long as it would last, and
then work for more if they could get work anywhere, of any kind, let it be what
it would.
While they were considering to put this resolution in
practice in the best manner they could, the third man, who was acquainted very
well with the sailmaker, came to know of the design, and got leave to be one of
the number; and thus they prepared to set out.
It happened that they had not an equal share of money; but
as the sailmaker, who had the best stock, was, besides his being lame, the most
unfit to expect to get anything by working in the country, so he was content
that what money they had should all go into one public stock, on condition that
whatever any one of them could gain more than another, it should without any
grudging be all added to the public stock.
They resolved to load themselves with as little baggage as
possible because they resolved at first to travel on foot, and to go a great
way that they might, if possible, be effectually safe; and a great many
consultations they had with themselves before they could agree about what way
they should travel, which they were so far from adjusting that even to the
morning they set out they were not resolved on it.
At last the seaman put in a hint that determined it.
'First,' says he, 'the weather is very hot, and therefore I am for travelling
north, that we may not have the sun upon our faces and beating on our breasts,
which will heat and suffocate us; and I have been told', says he, 'that it is
not good to overheat our blood at a time when, for aught we know, the infection
may be in the very air. In the next place,' says he, 'I am for going the way that
may be contrary to the wind, as it may blow when we set out, that we may not
have the wind blow the air of the city on our backs as we go.' These two
cautions were approved of, if it could be brought so to hit that the wind might
not be in the south when they set out to go north.
John the baker, who had been a soldier, then put in his
opinion. 'First,' says he, 'we none of us expect to get any lodging on the
road, and it will be a little too hard to lie just in the open air. Though it
be warm weather, yet it may be wet and damp, and we have a double reason to
take care of our health's at such a time as this; and therefore,' says he,
'you, brother Tom, that are a sailmaker, might easily make us a little tent,
and I will undertake to set it up every night, and take it down, and a fig for
all the inns in England; if we have a good tent over our heads we shall do well
enough.'
The joiner opposed this, and told them, let them leave that
to him; he would undertake to build them a house every night with his hatchet
and mallet, though he had no other tools, which should be fully to their satisfaction,
and as good as a tent.
The soldier and the joiner disputed that point some time,
but at last the soldier carried it for a tent. The only objection against it
was, that it must be carried with them, and that would increase their baggage
too much, the weather being hot; but the sailmaker had a piece of good hap,
fell in which made that easy, for his master whom he worked for, having a
rope-walk as well as sail making trade, had a little, poor horse that he made
no use of then; and being willing to assist the three honest men, he gave them
the horse for the carrying their baggage; also for a small matter of three
days' work that his man did for him before he went, he let him have an old
top-gallant sail that was worn out, but was sufficient and more than enough to
make a very good tent. The soldier showed how to shape it, and they soon by his
direction made their tent, and fitted it with poles or staves for the purpose; and
thus they were furnished for their journey, viz., three men, one tent, one horse,
one gun—for the soldier would not go without arms, for now he said he was no
more a biscuit-baker, but a trooper.
The joiner had a small bag of tools such as might be useful
if he should get any work abroad, as well for their subsistence as his own. What
money they had they brought all into one public stock, and thus they began
their journey. It seems that in the morning when they set out the wind blew, as
the sailor said, by his pocket-compass, at N.W. by W. So, they directed, or
rather resolved to direct, their course N.W.
But then a difficulty came in their way, that, as they set
out from the higher end of Wrapping, near the Hermitage, and that the plague
was now very violent, especially on the north side of the city, as in Shore
ditch and Cripple gate parish, they did not think it safe for them to go near
those parts; so they went away east through Ratcliff Highway as far as Ratcliff
Cross, and leaving Stoney Church still on their left hand, being afraid to come
up from Ratcliff Cross to Mile End, because they must come just by the
churchyard, and because the wind, that seemed to blow more from the west, blew
directly from the side of the city where the plague was hottest. So, I say,
leaving Stoney they fetched a long compass, and going to Poplar and Bromley,
came into the great road just at Bow.
Here the watch placed upon Bow Bridge would have questioned
them, but they, crossing the road into a narrow way that turns out of the higher
end of the town of Bow to Old Ford, avoided any inquiry there, and travelled to
Old Ford. The constables everywhere were upon their guard not so much, It
seems, to stop people passing by as to stop them from taking up their abode in
their towns, and withal because of a report that was newly raised at that time:
and that, indeed, was not very improbable, viz., that the poor people in
London, being distressed and starved for want of work, and by that means for
want of bread, were up in arms and had raised a tumult, and that they would
come out to all the towns round to plunder for bread. This, I say, was only a rumor,
and it was very well it was no more. But it was not so far off from being a
reality as it has been thought, for in a few weeks more the poor people became
so desperate by the calamity they suffered that they were with great difficulty
kept from going out into the fields and towns, and tearing all in pieces
wherever they came; and, as I have observed before, nothing hindered them but
that the plague raged so violently and fell in upon them so furiously that they
rather went to the grave by thousands than into the fields in mobs by
thousands; for, in the parts about the parishes of St Sepulcher, Clerkenwell, Cripple
gate, Bishopsgate, and Shore ditch, which were the places where the mob began
to threaten, the distemper came on so furiously that there died in those few
parishes even then, before the plague was come to its height, no less than 5361
people in the first three weeks in August; when at the same time the parts
about Wrapping, Radcliff, and Rotherhithe were, as before described, hardly
touched, or but very lightly; so that in a word though, as I said before, the
good management of the Lord Mayor and justices did much to prevent the rage and
desperation of the people from breaking out in rabbles and tumults, and in short
from the poor plundering the rich,—I say, though they did much, the dead-carts
did more: for as I have said that in five parishes only there died above 5000
in twenty days, so there might be probably three times that number sick all
that time; for some recovered, and great numbers fell sick every day and died
afterwards. Besides, I must still be allowed to say that if the bills of
mortality said five thousand, I always believed it was near twice as many in
reality, there being no room to believe that the account they gave was right,
or that indeed they were among such confusions as I saw them in, in any
condition to keep an exact account.
But to return to my travelers. Here they were only examined,
and as they seemed rather coming from the country than from the city, they
found the people the easier with them; that they talked to them, let them come
into a public-house where the constable and his warders were, and gave them
drink and some victuals which greatly refreshed and encouraged them; and here it
came into their heads to say, when they should be inquired of afterwards, not
that they came from London, but that they came out of Essex.
To forward this little fraud, they obtained so much favor of
the constable at Old Ford as to give them a certificate of their passing from
Essex through that village, and that they had not been at London; which, though
false in the common acceptance of London in the county, yet was literally true,
Wrapping or Ratcliff being no part either of the city or liberty.
This certificate directed to the next constable that was at
Homerton, one of the hamlets of the parish of Hackney, was so serviceable to
them that it procured them, not a free passage there only, but a full
certificate of health from a justice of the peace, who upon the constable's
application granted it without much difficulty; and thus they passed through
the long divided town of Hackney (for it lay then in several separated
hamlets), and travelled on till they came into the great north road on the top
of Stamford Hill.
By this time they began to be weary, and so in the back-road
from Hackney, a little before it opened into the said great road, they resolved
to set up their tent and encamp for the first night, which they did
accordingly, with this addition, that finding a barn, or a building like a
barn, and first searching as well as they could to be sure there was nobody in
it, they set up their tent, with the head of it against the barn. This they did
also because the wind blew that night very high, and they were but young at
such a way of lodging, as well as at the managing their tent.
Here they went to sleep; but the joiner, a grave and sober
man, and not pleased with their lying at this loose rate the first night, could
not sleep, and resolved, after trying to sleep to no purpose, that he would get
out, and, taking the gun in his hand, stand sentinel and guard his companions. So,
with the gun in his hand, he walked to and again before the barn, for that
stood in the field near the road, but within the hedge. He had not been long
upon the scout, but he heard a noise of people coming on, as if it had been a
great number, and they came on, as he thought, directly towards the barn. He
did not presently awake his companions; but in a few minutes more, their noise
growing louder and louder, the biscuit-baker called to him and asked him what the
matter was, and quickly started out too. The other, being the lame sailmaker
and most weary, lay still in the tent.
As they expected, so the people whom they had heard came on
directly to the barn, when one of our travelers challenged, like soldiers upon
the guard, with 'Who comes there?' The people did not answer immediately, but
one of them speaking to another that was behind him, 'Alas! alas! we are all
disappointed,' says he. 'Here are some people before us; the barn is taken up.'
They all stopped upon that, as under some surprise, and it
seems there was about thirteen of them in all, and some women among them. They
consulted together what they should do, and by their discourse our travelers
soon found they were poor, distressed people too, like themselves, seeking
shelter and safety; and besides, our travelers had no need to be afraid of
their coming up to disturb them, for as soon as they heard the words, 'Who
comes there?' these could hear the women say, as if freighted, 'Do not go near
them. How do you know but they may have the plague?' And when one of the men
said, 'Let us but speak to them', the women said, 'No, don't by any means. We
have escaped thus far by the goodness of God; do not let us run into danger
now, we beseech you.'
Our travelers found by this that they were a good, sober
sort of people, and flying for their lives, as they were; and, as they were
encouraged by it, so John said to the joiner, his comrade, 'Let us encourage
them too as much as we can'; so he called to them, 'Hark ye, good people,' says
the joiner, 'we find by your talk that you are flying from the same dreadful
enemy as we are. Do not be afraid of us; we are only three poor men of us. If
you are free from the distemper you shall not be hurt by us. We are not in the
barn, but in a little tent here in the outside, and we will remove for you; we
can set up our tent again immediately anywhere else'; and upon this a parley
began between the joiner, whose name was Richard, and one of their men, who
said his name was Ford.
Ford. And do you assure us that you are all sound men?
Richard. Nay, we are concerned to tell you of it, that you may
not be uneasy or think yourselves in danger; but you see we do not desire you
should put yourselves into any danger, and therefore I tell you that we have
not made use of the barn, so we will remove from it, that you may be safe and
we also.
Ford. That is very kind and charitable; but if we have
reason to be satisfied that you are sound and free from the visitation, why
should we make you remove now you are settled in your lodging, and, it may be,
are laid down to rest? We will go into the barn, if you please, to rest
ourselves a while, and we need not disturb you.
Richard. Well, but you are more than we are. I hope you will
assure us that you are all of you sound too, for the danger is as great from
you to us as from us to you.
Ford. Blessed be God that some do escape, though it is but
few; what may be our portion still we know not, but hitherto we are preserved.
Richard. What part of the town do you come from? Was the
plague come to the places where you lived?
Ford. Ay, ay, in a most frightful and terrible manner, or
else we had not filed away as we do; but we believe there will be very few left
alive behind us.
Richard. What part do you come from?
Ford. We are most of us of Cripple gate parish, only two or
three of Clerkenwell parish, but on the hither side.
Richard. How then was it that you came away no sooner?
Ford. We have been away some time, and kept together as well
as we could at the higher end of Islington, where we got leave to lie in an old
uninhabited house, and had some bedding and conveniences of our own that we
brought with us; but the plague is come up into Islington too, and a house next
door to our poor dwelling was infected and shut up; and we are come away in a
fright.
Richard. And what way are you going?
Ford. As our lot shall cast us; we know not whither, but God
will guide those that look up to Him.
They parleyed no further at that time, but came all up to
the barn, and with some difficulty got into it. There was nothing but hay in
the barn, but it was almost full of that, and they accommodated themselves as
well as they could, and went to rest; but our travelers observed that before
they went to sleep an ancient man who it seems was father of one of the women,
went to prayer with all the company, recommending themselves to the blessing
and direction of Providence, before they went to sleep.
It was soon day at that time of the year, and as Richard the
joiner had kept guard the first part of the night, so John the soldier relieved
him, and he had the post in the morning, and they began to be acquainted with
one another. It seems when they left Islington they intended to have gone
north, away to Highgate, but were stopped at Holloway, and there they would not
let them pass; so they crossed over the fields and hills to the eastward, and
came out at the Boarded River, and so avoiding the towns, they left Horsey on
the left hand and Newington on the right hand, and came into the great road
about Stamford Hill on that side, as the three travelers had done on the other
side. And now they had thoughts of going over the river in the marshes, and
make forwards to Epping Forest, where they hoped they should get leave to rest.
It seems they were not poor, at least not so poor as to be in want; at least
they had enough to subsist them moderately for two or three months, when, as
they said, they were in hopes the cold weather would check the infection, or at
least the violence of it would have spent itself, and would abate, if it were
only for want of people left alive to be infected.
This was much the fate of our three travelers, only that
they seemed to be the better furnished for travelling, and had it in their view
to go farther off; for as to the first, they did not propose to go farther than
one day's journey, that so they might have intelligence every two or three days
how things were at London.
But here our travelers found themselves under an unexpected
inconvenience: namely that of their horse, for by means of the horse to carry
their baggage they were obliged to keep in the road, whereas the people of this
other band went over the fields or roads, path or no path, way or no way, as
they pleased; neither had they any occasion to pass through any town, or come
near any town, other than to buy such things as they wanted for their necessary
subsistence, and in that indeed they were put too much difficulty; of which in
its place.
But our three travelers were obliged to keep the road, or
else they must commit spoil, and do the country a great deal of damage in
breaking down fences and gates to go over enclosed fields, which they were loath
to do if they could help it.
Our three travelers, however, had a great mind to join
themselves to this company and take their lot with them; and after some
discourse they laid aside their first design which looked northward, and
resolved to follow the other into Essex; so in the morning they took up their
tent and loaded their horse, and away they travelled all together.
They had some difficulty in passing the ferry at the
river-side, the ferryman being afraid of them; but after some parley at a
distance, the ferryman was content to bring his boat to a place distant from
the usual ferry, and leave it there for them to take it; so putting themselves
over, he directed them to leave the boat, and he, having another boat, said he
would fetch it again, which it seems, however, he did not do for above eight
days.
Here, giving the ferryman money beforehand, they had a
supply of victuals and drink, which he brought and left in the boat for them;
but not without, as I said, having received the money beforehand. But now our travelers
were at a great loss and difficulty how to get the horse over, the boat being
small and not fit for it: and at last could not do it without unloading the
baggage and making him swim over.
From the river they travelled towards the forest, but when
they came to Waltham stow the people of that town denied admitting them, as was
the case everywhere. The constables and their watchmen kept them off at a
distance and parleyed with them. They gave the same account of themselves as
before, but these gave no credit to what they said, giving it for a reason that
two or three companies had already come that way and made the like pretenses,
but that they had given several people the distemper in the towns where they
had passed; and had been afterwards so hardly used by the country (though with
justice, too, as they had deserved) that about Brentwood, or that way, several
of them perished in the fields—whether of the plague or of mere want and
distress they could not tell.
This was a good reason indeed why the people of Waltham stow
should be very cautious, and why they should resolve not to entertain anybody
that they were not well satisfied of. But, as Richard the joiner and one of the
other men who parleyed with them told them, it was no reason why they should
block up the roads and refuse to let people pass through the town, and who
asked nothing of them but to go through the street; that if their people were
afraid of them, they might go into their houses and shut their doors; they
would neither show them civility nor incivility, but go on about their
business.
The constables and attendants, not to be persuaded by
reason, continued obstinate, and would hearken to nothing; so, the two men that
talked with them went back to their fellows to consult what was to be done. It
was very discouraging in the whole, and they knew not what to do for a good
while; but at last John the soldier and biscuit-maker, considering a while,
'Come,' says he, 'leave the rest of the parley to me.' He had not appeared yet,
so he sets the joiner, Richard, to work to cut some poles out of the trees and
shape them as like guns as he could, and in a little time he had five or six
fair muskets, which at a distance would not be known; and about the part where
the lock of a gun is he caused them to wrap cloth and rags such as they had, as
soldiers do in wet weather to preserve the locks of their pieces from rust; the
rest was discolored with clay or mud, such as they could get; and all this
while the rest of them sat under the trees by his direction, in two or three bodies,
where they made fires at a good distance from one another.
While this was doing he advanced himself and two or three
with him, and set up their tent in the lane within sight of the barrier which
the town's men had made, and set a sentinel just by it with the real gun, the
only one they had, and who walked to and for with the gun on his shoulder, so
as that the people of the town might see them. Also, he tied the horse to a
gate in the hedge just by, and got some dry sticks together and kindled a fire
on the other side of the tent, so that the people of the town could see the
fire and the smoke, but could not see what they were doing at it.
After the country people had looked upon them very earnestly
a great while, and, by all that they could see, could not but suppose that they
were a great many in company, they began to be uneasy, not for their going away,
but for staying where they were; and above all, perceiving they had horses and
arms, for they had seen one horse and one gun at the tent, and they had seen
others of them walk about the field on the inside of the hedge by the side of
the lane with their muskets, as they took them to be, shouldered; I say, upon
such a sight as this, you may be assured they were alarmed and terribly freighted,
and it seems they went to a justice of the peace to know what they should do.
What the justice advised them to I know not, but towards the evening they
called from the barrier, as above, to the sentinel at the tent.
'What do you want?' says John. *
'Why, what do you intend to do?' says the constable. 'To
do,' says John; 'what would you have us to do?' Constable. Why don't you be
gone? What do you stay there for?
John. Why do you stop us on the king's highway, and pretend
to refuse us leave to go on our way?
Constable. We are not bound to tell you our reason, though
we did let you know it was because of the plague.
John. We told you we were all sound and free from the
plague, which we were not bound to have satisfied you of, and yet you pretend
to stop us on the highway.
Constable. We have a right to stop it up, and our own safety
obliges us to it. Besides, this is not the king's highway; 'tis a way upon
sufferance. You see here is a gate, and if we do let people pass here, we make
them pay toll.
John. We have a right to seek our own safety as well as you,
and you may see we are flying for our lives: and 'tis very unchristian and
unjust to stop us.
Constable. You may go back from whence you came; we do not
hinder you from that.
John. No; it is a stronger enemy than you that keeps us from
doing that, or else we should not have come hither.
Constable. Well, you may go any other way, then.
John. No, no; I suppose you see we are able to send you
going, and all the people of your parish, and come through your town when we
will; but since you have stopped us here, we are content. You see we have
encamped here, and here we will live. We hope you will furnish us with
victuals.
*It seems John
was in the tent, but hearing them call, he
steps out, and
taking the gun upon his shoulder, talked to
them as if he had
been the sentinel placed there upon the
guard by some
officer that was his superior. [Footnote in
the original.]
Constable. We furnish you! What mean you by that?
John. Why, you would not have us starve, would you? If you
stop us here, you must keep us.
Constable. You will be ill kept at our maintenance.
John. If you stint us, we shall make ourselves the better
allowance.
Constable. Why, you will not pretend to quarter upon us by
force, will you?
John. We have offered no violence to you yet. Why do you
seem to oblige us to it? I am an old soldier, and cannot starve, and if you
think that we shall be obliged to go back for want of provisions, you are
mistaken.
Constable. Since you threaten us, we shall take care to be
strong enough for you. I have orders to raise the county upon you.
John. It is you that threaten, not we. And since you are for
mischief, you cannot blame us if we do not give you time for it; we shall begin
our march in a few minutes. *
Constable. What is it you demand of us?
John. At first, we desired nothing of you but leave to go
through the town; we should have offered no injury to any of you, neither would
you have had any injury or loss by us. We are not thieves, but poor people in
distress, and flying from the dreadful plague in London, which devours
thousands every week. We wonder how you could be so unmerciful!
Constable. Self-preservation obliges us.
John. What! To shut up your compassion in a case of such
distress as this.
Constable. Well, if you will pass over the fields on your
left hand, and behind that part of the town, I will endeavor to have gates
opened for you.
John. Our horsemen ** cannot pass with our baggage that way;
it does not lead into the road that we want to go, and why should you force us
out of the road? Besides, you have kept us here all day without any provisions
but such as we brought with us. I think you ought to send us some provisions
for our relief.
* This freighted
the constable and the people that were with
him, that they
immediately changed their note.
** They had but
one horse among them.
[Footnotes in the
original.]
Constable. If you will go another way, we will send you some
provisions.
John. That is the way to have all the towns in the county
stop up the ways against us.
Constable. If they all furnish you with food, what will you
be the worse? I see you have tents; you want no lodging.
John. Well, what quantity of provisions will you send us?
Constable. How many are you?
John. Nay, we do not ask enough for all our company; we are
in three companies. If you will send us bread for twenty men and about six or
seven women for three days, and show us the way over the field you speak of, we
desire not to put your people into any fear for us; we will go out of our way
to oblige you, though we are as free from infection as you are.*
Constable. And will you assure us that your other people
shall offer us no new disturbance?
John. No, no you may depend on it.
Constable. You must oblige yourself, too, that none of your
people shall come a step nearer than where the provisions we send you shall be
set down.
John. I answer for it we will not.
Accordingly they sent to the place twenty loaves of bread
and three or four large pieces of good beef, and opened some gates, through
which they passed; but none of them had courage so much as to look out to see
them go, and, as it was evening, if they had looked they could not have seen
them as to know how few they were.
This was John the soldier's management. But this gave such
an alarm to the county, that had they really been two or three hundred the
whole county would have been raised upon them, and they would have been sent to
prison, or perhaps knocked on the head.
* Here he called
to one of his men, and bade him order
Captain Richard
and his people to march the lower way on the
side of the
marches, and meet them in the forest, which was
all a sham, for
they had no Captain Richard, or any such
company.
[Footnote in the original.]
They were soon made sensible of this, for two days
afterwards they found several parties of horsemen and footmen also about, in
pursuit of three companies of men, armed, as they said, with muskets, who were
broke out from London and had the plague upon them, and that were not only
spreading the distemper among the people, but plundering the country.
As they saw now the consequence of their case, they soon saw
the danger they were in; so, they resolved by the advice also of the old
soldier to divide themselves again. John and his two comrades, with the horse,
went away, as if towards Waltham; the other in two companies, but all a little
asunder, and went towards Epping.
The first night they encamped all in the forest, and not far
off one another, but not setting up the tent, lest that should discover them.
On the other hand, Richard went to work with his axe and his hatchet, and
cutting down branches of trees, he built three tents or hovels, in which they
all encamped with as much convenience as they could expect.
The provisions they had at Waltham stow served them very
plentifully this night; and as for the next, they left it to Providence. They
had fared so well with the old soldier's conduct that they now willingly made
him their leader, and the first of his conduct appeared to be very good. He
told them that they were now at a proper distance enough from London; that as
they need not be immediately beholden to the country for relief, so they ought
to be as careful the country did not infect them as that they did not infect
the country; that what little money they had, they must be as frugal of as they
could; that as he would not have them think of offering the country any
violence, so they must endeavor to make the sense of their condition go as far
with the country as it could. They all referred themselves to his direction, so
they left their three houses standing, and the next day went away towards
Epping. The captain also (for so they now called him), and his two fellow-travelers,
laid aside their design of going to Waltham, and all went together.
When they came near Epping they halted, choosing out a
proper place in the open forest, not very near the highway, but not far out of
it on the north side, under a little cluster of low pollard-trees. Here they
pitched their little camp—which consisted of three large tents or huts made of
poles which their carpenter, and such as were his assistants, cut down and
fixed in the ground in a circle, binding all the small ends together at the top
and thickening the sides with boughs of trees and bushes, so that they were
completely close and warm. They had, besides this, a little tent where the
women lay by themselves, and a hut to put the horse in.
It happened that the next day, or next but one, was
market-day at Epping, when Captain John and one of the other men went to market
and bought some provisions; that is to say, bread, and some mutton and beef;
and two of the women went separately, as if they had not belonged to the rest,
and bought more. John took the horse to bring it home, and the sack which the
carpenter carried his tools in, to put it in. The carpenter went to work and
made them benches and stools to sit on, such as the wood he could get would
afford, and a kind of table to dine on.
They were taken no notice of for two or three days, but
after that abundance of people ran out of the town to look at them, and all the
country was alarmed about them. The people at first seemed afraid to come near
them; and, on the other hand, they desired the people to keep off, for there
was a rumor that the plague was at Waltham, and that it had been in Epping two
or three days; so John called out to them not to come to them, 'for,' says he,
'we are all whole and sound people here, and we would not have you bring the
plague among us, nor pretend we brought it among you.'
After this the parish officers came up to them and parleyed
with them at a distance, and desired to know who they were, and by what
authority they pretended to fix their stand at that place. John answered very
frankly, they were poor distressed people from London who, foreseeing the misery
they should be reduced to if plague spread into the city, had fled out in time
for their lives, and, having no acquaintance or relations to fly to, had first
taken up at Islington; but, the plague being come into that town, were fled
farther; and as they supposed that the people of Epping might have refused them
coming into their town, they had pitched their tents thus in the open field and
in the forest, being willing to bear all the hardships of such a disconsolate
lodging rather than have any one think or be afraid that they should receive
injury by them.
At first the Epping people talked roughly to them, and told
them they must remove; that this was no place for them; and that they pretended
to be sound and well, but that they might be infected with the plague for aught
they knew, and might infect the whole country, and they could not suffer them
there.
John argued very calmly with them a great while, and told
them that London was the place by which they—that is, the townsmen of Epping
and all the country round them—subsisted; to whom they sold the produce of
their lands, and out of whom they made their rent of their farms; and to be so
cruel to the inhabitants of London, or to any of those by whom they gained so
much, was very hard, and they would be loath to have it remembered hereafter,
and have it told how barbarous, how inhospitable, and how unkind they were to
the people of London when they fled from the face of the most terrible enemy in
the world; that it would be enough to make the name of an Epping man hateful
through all the city, and to have the rabble stone them in the very streets
whenever they came so much as to market; that they were not yet secure from
being visited themselves, and that, as he heard, Waltham was already; that they
would think it very hard that when any of them fled for fear before they were
touched, they should be denied the liberty of lying so much as in the open
fields.
The Epping men told them again, that they, indeed, said they
were sound and free from the infection, but that they had no assurance of it;
and that it was reported that there had been a great rabble of people at Waltham
stow, who made such pretenses of being sound as they did, but that they
threatened to plunder the town and force their way, whether the parish officers
would or no; that there were near two hundred of them, and had arms and tents
like Low Country soldiers; that they extorted provisions from the town, by
threatening them with living upon them at free quarter, showing their arms, and
talking in the language of soldiers; and that several of them being gone away
toward Rumford and Brentwood, the country had been infected by them, and the
plague spread into both those large towns, so that the people durst not go to
market there as usual; that it was very likely they were some of that party;
and if so, they deserved to be sent to the county jail, and be secured till
they had made satisfaction for the damage they had done, and for the terror and
fright they had put the country into.
John answered that what other people had done was nothing to
them; that they assured them they were all of one company; that they had never
been more in number than they saw them at that time (which, by the way, was
very true); that they came out in two separate companies, but joined by the
way, their cases being the same; that they were ready to give what account of
themselves anybody could desire of them, and to give in their names and places
of abode, that so they might be called to an account for any disorder that they
might be guilty of; that the townsmen might see they were content to live
hardly, and only desired a little room to breathe in on the forest where it was
wholesome; for where it was not they could not stay, and would decamp if they
found it otherwise there.
'But,' said the townsmen, 'we have a great charge of poor
upon our hands already, and we must take care not to increase it; we suppose
you can give us no security against your being chargeable to our parish and to
the inhabitants, any more than you can of being dangerous to us as to the
infection.'
'Why, look you,' says John, 'as to being chargeable to you,
we hope we shall not. If you will relieve us with provisions for our present
necessity, we will be very thankful; as we all lived without charity when we
were at home, so we will oblige ourselves fully to repay you, if God pleases to
bring us back to our own families and houses in safety, and to restore health
to the people of London.
'As to our dying here: we assure you, if any of us die, we
that survive will bury them, and put you to no expense, except it should be
that we should all die; and then, indeed, the last man not being able to bury
himself, would put you to that single expense which I am persuaded', says John,
'he would leave enough behind him to pay you for the expense of.
'On the other hand,' says John, 'if you shut up all bowels
of compassion, and not relieve us at all, we shall not extort anything by
violence or steal from any one; but when what little we have is spent, if we
perish for want, God's will be done.'
John wrought so upon the townsmen, by talking thus
rationally and smoothly to them, that they went away; and though they did not
give any consent to their staying there, yet they did not molest them; and the
poor people continued their three or four days longer without any disturbance.
In this time they had got some remote acquaintance with a victualling-house at
the outskirts of the town, to whom they called at a distance to bring some
little things that they wanted, and which they caused to be set down at a
distance, and always paid for very honestly.
During this time the younger people of the town came
frequently pretty near them, and would stand and look at them, and sometimes
talk with them at some space between; and particularly it was observed that the
first Sabbath-day the poor people kept retired, worshipped God together, and
were heard to sing psalms.
These things, and a quiet, inoffensive behavior, began to
get them the good opinion of the country, and people began to pity them and
speak very well of them; the consequence of which was, that upon the occasion
of a very wet, rainy night, a certain gentleman who lived in the neighborhood
sent them a little cart with twelve trusses or bundles of straw, as well for
them to lodge upon as to cover and thatch their huts and to keep them dry. The
minister of a parish not far off, not knowing of the other, sent them also
about two bushels of wheat and half a bushel of white peas.
They were very thankful, to be sure, for this relief, and
particularly the straw was a—very great comfort to them; for though the
ingenious carpenter had made frames for them to lie in like troughs, and filled
them with leaves of trees, and such things as they could get, and had cut all
their tent-cloth out to make them coverlids, yet they lay damp and hard and
unwholesome till this straw came, which was to them like feather-beds, and, as
John said, more welcome than feather-beds would have been at another time.
This gentleman and the minister having thus begun, and given
an example of charity to these wanderers, others quickly followed, and they
received every day some benevolence or other from the people, but chiefly from
the gentlemen who dwelt in the country round them. Some sent them chairs,
stools, tables, and such household things as they gave notice they wanted; some
sent them blankets, rugs, and coverlids, some earthenware, and some kitchen
ware for ordering their food.
Encouraged by this good usage, their carpenter in a few days
built them a large shed or house with rafters, and a roof in form, and an upper
floor, in which they lodged warm: for the weather began to be damp and cold in
the beginning of September. But this house, being well thatched, and the sides
and roof made very thick, kept out the cold well enough. He made, also, an earthen
wall at one end with a chimney in it, and another of the company, with a vast
deal of trouble and pains, made a funnel to the chimney to carry out the smoke.
Here they lived comfortably, though coarsely, till the
beginning of September, when they had the bad news to hear, whether true or
not, that the plague, which was very hot at Waltham Abbey on one side and at
Rumford and Brentwood on the other side, was also coming to Epping, to
Woodford, and to most of the towns upon the Forest, and which, as they said,
was brought down among them chiefly by the hagglers, and such people as went to
and from London with provisions.
If this was true, it was an evident contradiction to that
report which was afterwards spread all over England, but which, as I have said,
I cannot confirm of my own knowledge: namely, that the market-people carrying
provisions to the city never got the infection or carried it back into the
country; both which, I have been assured, has been false.
It might be that they were preserved even beyond
expectation, though not to a miracle, that abundance went and came and were not
touched; and that was much for the encouragement of the poor people of London,
who had been completely miserable if the people that brought provisions to the
markets had not been many times wonderfully preserved, or at least more
preserved than could be reasonably expected.
But now these new inmates began to be disturbed more
effectually, for the towns about them were really infected, and they began to
be afraid to trust one another so much as to go abroad for such things as they
wanted, and this pinched them very hard, for now they had little or nothing but
what the charitable gentlemen of the country supplied them with. But, for their
encouragement, it happened that other gentlemen in the country who had not sent
them anything before, began to hear of them and supply them, and one sent them
a large pig—that is to say, a porker—another two sheep, and another sent them a
calf. In short, they had meat enough, and sometimes had cheese and milk, and
all such things. They were chiefly put to it for bread, for when the gentlemen
sent them corn, they had nowhere to bake it or to grind it. This made them eat
the first two bushel of wheat that had sent them in parched corn, as the Israelites
of old did, without grinding or making bread of it.
At last they found means to carry their corn to a windmill
near Woodford, where they had it ground, and afterwards the biscuit-maker made
a hearth so hollow and dry that he could bake biscuit-cakes tolerably well; and
thus they came into a condition to live without any assistance or supplies from
the towns; and it was well they did, for the country was soon after fully
infected, and about 120 were said to have died of the distemper in the villages
near them, which was a terrible thing to them.
On this they called a new council, and now the towns had no
need to be afraid they should settle near them; but, on the contrary, several
families of the poorer sort of the inhabitants quitted their houses and built
huts in the forest after the same manner as they had done. But it was observed
that several of these poor people that had so removed had the sickness even in
their huts or booths; the reason of which was plain, namely, not because they
removed into the air, but, (1) because they did not remove time enough; that is
to say, not till, by openly conversing with the other people their neighbors,
they had the distemper upon them, or (as may be said) among them, and so
carried it about them whither they went. Or (2) because they were not careful
enough, after they were safely removed out of the towns, not to come in again
and mingle with the diseased people.
But be it which of these it will, when our travelers began
to perceive that the plague was not only in the towns, but even in the tents
and huts on the forest near them, they began then not only to be afraid, but to
think of decamping and removing; for had they stayed they would have been in
manifest danger of their lives.
It is not to be wondered that they were greatly afflicted at
being obliged to quit the place where they had been so kindly received, and
where they had been treated with so much humanity and charity; but necessity
and the hazard of life, which they came out so far to preserve, prevailed with
them, and they saw no remedy. John, however, thought of a remedy for their
present misfortune: namely, that he would first acquaint that gentleman who was
their principal benefactor with the distress they were in, and to crave his
assistance and advice.
The good, charitable gentleman encouraged them to quit the
Place for fear they should be cut off from any retreat at all by the violence
of the distemper; but whither they should go, that he found very hard to direct
them to. At last John asked of him whether he, being a justice of the peace,
would give them certificates of health to other justices whom they might come
before; that so whatever might be their lot, they might not be repulsed now
they had been also so long from London. This his worship immediately granted,
and gave them proper letters of health, and from thence they were at liberty to
travel whither they pleased.
Accordingly they had a full certificate of health,
intimating that they had resided in a village in the county of Essex so long
that, being examined and scrutinized sufficiently, and having been retired from
all conversation for above forty days, without any appearance of sickness, they
were therefore certainly concluded to be sound men, and might be safely
entertained anywhere, having at last removed rather for fear of the plague
which was come into such a town, rather than for having any signal of infection
upon them, or upon any belonging to them.
With this certificate they removed, though with great
reluctance; and John inclining not to go far from home, they moved towards the
marshes on the side of Waltham. But here they found a man who, it seems, kept a
weir or stop upon the river, made to raise the water for the barges which go up
and down the river, and he terrified them with dismal stories of the sickness
having been spread into all the towns on the river and near the river, on the
side of Middlesex and Hertfordshire; that is to say, into Waltham, Waltham
Cross, Enfield, and Ware, and all the towns on the road, that they were afraid
to go that way; though it seems the man imposed upon them, for that the thing
was not really true.
However, it terrified them, and they resolved to move across
the forest towards Rumford and Brentwood; but they heard that there were
numbers of people fled out of London that way, who lay up and down in the
forest called Health Forest, reaching near Rumford, and who, having no
subsistence or habitation, not only lived oddly and suffered great extremities
in the woods and fields for want of relief, but were said to be made so
desperate by those extremities as that they offered many violence's to the
county, robbed and plundered, and killed cattle, and the like; that others,
building huts and hovels by the roadside, begged, and that with an importunity
next door to demanding relief; so that the county was very uneasy, and had been
obliged to take some of them up.
This in the first place intimated to them, that they would
be sure to find the charity and kindness of the county, which they had found
here where they were before, hardened and shut up against them; and that, on
the other hand, they would be questioned wherever they came, and would be in
danger of violence from others in like cases as themselves.
Upon all these considerations John, their captain, in all
their names, went back to their good friend and benefactor, who had relieved
them before, and laying their case truly before him, humbly asked his advice;
and he as kindly advised them to take up their old quarters again, or if not,
to remove but a little farther out of the road, and directed them to a proper
place for them; and as they really wanted some house rather than huts to
shelter them at that time of the year, it growing on towards Michaela's, they
found an old decayed house which had been formerly some cottage or little
habitation but was so out of repair as scarce habitable; and by the consent of
a farmer to whose farm it belonged, they got leave to make what use of it they
could.
The ingenious joiner, and all the rest, by his directions
went to work with it, and in a very few days made it capable to shelter them
all in case of bad weather; and in which there was an old chimney and old oven,
though both lying in ruins; yet they made them both fit for use, and, raising
additions, sheds, and lean-tos on every side, they soon made the house capable
to hold them all.
They chiefly wanted boards to make window-shutters, floors,
doors, and several other things; but as the gentlemen above favored them, and
the country was by that means made easy with them, and above all, that they
were known to be all sound and in good health, everybody helped them with what
they could spare.
Here they encamped for good and all and resolved to remove
no more. They saw plainly how terribly alarmed that county was everywhere at
anybody that came from London, and that they should have no admittance anywhere
but with the utmost difficulty; at least no friendly reception and assistance
as they had received here.
Now, although they received great assistance and
encouragement from the country gentlemen and from the people round about them,
yet they were put to great straits: for the weather grew cold and wet in October
and November, and they had not been used to so much hardship; so that they got
colds in their limbs, and distempers, but never had the infection; and thus
about December they came home to the city again.
I give this story thus at large, principally to give an
account what became of the great numbers of people which immediately appeared
in the city as soon as the sickness abated; for, as I have said, great numbers
of those that were able and had retreats in the country fled to those retreats.
So, when it was increased to such a frightful extremity as I have related, the
middling people who had not friends fled to all parts of the country where they
could get shelter, as well those that had money to relieve themselves as those
that had not. Those that had money always fled farthest, because they were able
to subsist themselves; but those who were empty suffered, as I have said, great
hardships, and were often driven by necessity to relieve their wants at the
expense of the country. By that means the country was made very uneasy at them,
and sometimes took them up; though even then they scarce knew what to do with
them, and were always very backward to punish them, but often, too, they forced
them from place to place till they were obliged to come back again to London.
I have, since my knowing this story of John and his brother,
inquired and found that there were a great many of the poor disconsolate
people, as above, fled into the country every way; and some of them got little
sheds and barns and outhouses to live in, where they could obtain so much
kindness of the country, and especially where they had any the least
satisfactory account to give of themselves, and particularly that they did not
come out of London too late. But others, and that in great numbers, built
themselves little huts and retreats in the fields and woods, and lived like
hermits in holes and caves, or any place they could find, and where, we may be
sure, they suffered great extremities, such that many of them were obliged to
come back again whatever the danger was; and so those little huts were often
found empty, and the country people supposed the inhabitants lay dead in them
of the plague, and would not go near them for fear—no, not in a great while;
nor is it unlikely but that some of the unhappy wanderers might die so all
alone, even sometimes for want of help, as particularly in one tent or hut was
found a man dead, and on the gate of a field just by was cut with his knife in
uneven letters the following words, by which it may be supposed the other man
escaped, or that, one dying first, the other buried him as well as he could:—
O misery!
We Both Shall Dye,
Woe, Woe.
I have given an account already of what I found to have been
the case down the river among the seafaring men; how the ships lay in the
offing, as it's called, in rows or lines astern of one another, quite down from
the Pool as far as I could see. I have been told that they lay in the same
manner quite down the river as low as Gravesend, and some far beyond: even
everywhere or in every place where they could ride with safety as to wind and
weather; nor did I ever hear that the plague reached to any of the people on
board those ships—except such as lay up in the Pool, or as high as Deptford
Reach, although the people went frequently on shore to the country towns and
villages and farmers' houses, to buy fresh provisions, fowls, pigs, calves, and
the like for their supply.
Likewise I found that the watermen on the river above the
bridge found means to convey themselves away up the river as far as they could
go, and that they had, many of them, their whole families in their boats,
covered with tilts and bales, as they call them, and furnished with straw
within for their lodging, and that they lay thus all along by the shore in the
marshes, some of them setting up little tents with their sails, and so lying
under them on shore in the day, and going into their boats at night; and in
this manner, as I have heard, the river-sides were lined with boats and people
as long as they had anything to subsist on, or could get anything of the
country; and indeed the country people, as well Gentlemen as others, on these
and all other occasions, were very forward to relieve them—but they were by no
means willing to receive them into their towns and houses, and for that we
cannot blame them.
There was one unhappy citizen within my knowledge who had
been visited in a dreadful manner, so that his wife and all his children were
dead, and himself and two servants only left, with an elderly woman, a near
relation, who had nursed those that were dead as well as she could. This
disconsolate man goes to a village near the town, though not within the bills
of mortality, and finding an empty house there, inquires out the owner, and
took the house. After a few days he got a cart and loaded it with goods, and
carries them down to the house; the people of the village opposed his driving
the cart along; but with some arguing and some force, the men that drove the
cart along got through the street up to the door of the house. There the
constable resisted them again, and would not let them be brought in. The man
caused the goods to be unloaded and laid at the door, and sent the cart away;
upon which they carried the man before a justice of peace; that is to say, they
commanded him to go, which he did. The justice ordered him to cause the cart to
fetch away the goods again, which he refused to do; upon which the justice
ordered the constable to pursue the carters and fetch them back, and make them
reload the goods and carry them away, or to set them in the stocks till they
came for further orders; and if they could not find them, nor the man would not
consent to take them away, they should cause them to be drawn with hooks from
the house-door and burned in the street. The poor distressed man upon this
fetched the goods again, but with grievous cries and lamentations at the
hardship of his case. But there was no remedy; self-preservation obliged the
people to those severities which they would not otherwise have been concerned
in. Whether this poor man lived or died I cannot tell, but it was reported that
he had the plague upon him at that time; and perhaps the people might report
that to justify their usage of him; but it was not unlikely that either he or
his goods, or both, were dangerous, when his whole family had been dead of the
distempers so little a while before.
I know that the inhabitants of the towns adjacent to London
were much blamed for cruelty to the poor people that ran from the contagion in
their distress, and many very severe things were done, as may be seen from what
has been said; but I cannot but say also that, where there was room for charity
and assistance to the people, without apparent danger to themselves, they were
willing enough to help and relieve them. But as every town were indeed judges
in their own case, so the poor people who ran abroad in their extremities were
often ill-used and driven back again into the town; and this caused infinite
exclamations and outcries against the country towns, and made the clamor very
popular.
And yet (with) all the caution, there was not a town of any
note within ten (or, I believe, twenty) miles of the city but what was infected
and had some died among them. I have heard the accounts of several, such as
they were reckoned up, as follows: —
In Enfield 32 In Uxbridge 117
" Horsey 58 " Hertford 90
" Newington 17 " Ware 160
" Tottenham 42 " Hodson 30
" Edmonton 19 " Waltham Abbey 23
" Barnet and Hadley
19 " Epping 26
" St
Albans 121 " Deptford 623
" Watford 45
" Greenwich 231
" Eltham and Kusum
85 " Kingston 122
" Croydon 61 " Stans 82
" Brentwood 70 " Chertsey 18
" Rumford 109 " Windsor 103
" Barking
Abbot 200
" Brantford 432 Cum alias.
Another thing might render the country more strict with
respect to the citizens, and especially with respect to the poor, and this was
what I hinted at before: namely, that there was a seeming propensity or a
wicked inclination in those that were infected to infect others.
There have been great debates among our physicians as to the
reason of this. Some will have it to be in the nature of the disease, and that
it impresses every one that is seized upon by it with a kind of a rage, and a
hatred against their own kind—as if there was a malignity not only in the
distemper to communicate itself, but in the very nature of man, prompting him
with evil will or an evil eye, that, as they say in the case of a mad dog, who
though the gentlest creature before of any of his kind, yet then will fly upon
and bite any one that comes next him, and those as soon as any who had been
most observed by him before.
Others placed it to the account of the corruption of human
nature, who cannot bear to see itself more miserable than others of its own
species, and has a kind of involuntary wish that all men were as unhappy or in
as bad a condition as itself.
Others say it was only a kind of desperation, not knowing or
regarding what they did, and consequently unconcerned at the danger or safety
not only of anybody near them, but even of themselves also. And indeed, when
men are once come to a condition to abandon themselves and be unconcerned for
the safety or at the danger of themselves, it cannot be so much wondered that
they should be careless of the safety of other people.
But I choose to give this grave debate a quite different turn
and answer it or resolve it all by saying that I do not grant the fact. On the
contrary, I say that the thing is not really so, but that it was a general
complaint raised by the people inhabiting the outlying villages against the
citizens to justify, or at least excuse, those hardships and severities so much
talked of, and in which complaints both sides may be said to have injured one
another; that is to say, the citizens pressing to be received and harbored in
time of distress, and with the plague upon them, complain of the cruelty and injustice
of the country people in being refused entrance and forced back again with
their goods and families; and the inhabitants, finding themselves so imposed
upon, and the citizens breaking in as it were upon them whether they would or
no, complain that when they were infected they were not only regardless of
others, but even willing to infect them; neither of which were really true—that
is to say, in the colors they were described in.
It is true there is something to be said for the frequent
alarms which were given to the country of the resolution of the people of
London to come out by force, not only for relief, but to plunder and rob; that
they ran about the streets with the distemper upon them without any control;
and that no care was taken to shut up houses, and confine the sick people from
infecting others; whereas, to do the Londoners justice, they never practiced
such things, except in such particular cases as I have mentioned above, and
such like. On the other hand, everything was managed with so much care, and
such excellent order was observed in the whole city and suburbs by the care of
the Lord Mayor and aldermen and by the justices of the peace, church-wardens,
&c., in the out parts, that London may be a pattern to all the cities in
the world for the good government and the excellent order that was everywhere
kept, even in the time of the most violent infection, and when the people were
in the utmost consternation and distress. But of this I shall speak by itself.
One thing, it is to be observed, was owing principally to
the prudence of the magistrates, and ought to be mentioned to their honor:
viz., the moderation which they used in the great and difficult work of
shutting up of houses. It is true, as I have mentioned, that the shutting up of
houses was a great subject of discontent, and I may say indeed the only subject
of discontent among the people at that time; for the confining the sound in the
same house with the sick was counted very terrible, and the complaints of
people so confined were very grievous. They were heard into the very streets,
and they were sometimes such that called for resentment, though oftener for
compassion. They had no way to converse with any of their friends but out at
their windows, where they would make such piteous lamentations as often moved
the hearts of those they talked with, and of others who, passing by, heard
their story; and as those complaints oftentimes reproached the severity, and
sometimes the insolence, of the watchmen placed at their doors, those watchmen
would answer saucily enough, and perhaps be apt to affront the people who were
in the street talking to the said families; for which, or for their
ill-treatment of the families, I think seven or eight of them in several places
were killed; I know not whether I should say murdered or not, because I cannot
enter into the particular cases. It is true the watchmen were on their duty,
and acting in the post where they were placed by a lawful authority; and
killing any public legal officer in the execution of his office is always, in
the language of the law, called murder. But as they were not authorized by the
magistrates' instructions, or by the power they acted under, to be injurious or
abusive either to the people who were under their observation or to any that
concerned themselves for them; so when they did so, they might be said to act
themselves, not their office; to act as private persons, not as persons
employed; and consequently, if they brought mischief upon themselves by such an
undue behavior, that mischief was upon their own heads; and indeed they had so
much the hearty curses of the people, whether they deserved it or not, that
whatever befell them nobody pitied them, and everybody was apt to say they
deserved it, whatever it was. Nor do I remember that anybody was ever punished,
at least to any considerable degree, for whatever was done to the watchmen that
guarded their houses.
What variety of stratagems were used to escape and get out
of houses thus shut up, by which the watchmen were deceived or overpowered, and
that the people got away, I have taken notice of already, and shall say no more
to that. But I say the magistrates did moderate and ease families upon many
occasions in this case, and particularly in that of taking away, or suffering
to be removed, the sick persons out of such houses when they were willing to be
removed either to a pest-house or other Places; and sometimes giving the well
persons in the family so shut up, leave to remove upon information given that
they were well, and that they would confine themselves in such houses where
they went so long as should be required of them. The concern, also, of the
magistrates for the supplying such poor families as were infected—I say,
supplying them with necessaries, as well physic as food—was very great, and in
which they did not content themselves with giving the necessary orders to the
officers appointed, but the aldermen in person, and on horseback, frequently
rode to such houses and caused the people to be asked at their windows whether
they were duly attended or not; also, whether they wanted anything that was
necessary, and if the officers had constantly carried their messages and
fetched them such things as they wanted or not. And if they answered in the
affirmative, all was well; but if they complained that they were ill supplied,
and that the officer did not do his duty, or did not treat them civilly, they
(the officers) were generally removed, and others placed in their stead.
It is true such complaint might be unjust, and if the officer
had such arguments to use as would convince the magistrate that he was right,
and that the people had injured him, he was continued, and they reproved. But
this part could not well bear an inquiry, for the parties could very ill be
well heard and answered in the street from the windows, as was the case then.
The magistrates, therefore, generally chose to favor the people and remove the
man, as what seemed to be the least wrong and of the least ill consequence;
seeing if the watchman was injured, yet they could easily make him amends by
giving him another post of the like nature; but if the family was injured, there
was no satisfaction could be made to them, the damage perhaps being
irreparable, as it concerned their lives.
A great variety of these cases frequently happened between
the watchmen and the poor people shut up, besides those I formerly mentioned
about escaping. Sometimes the watchmen were absent, sometimes drunk, sometimes
asleep when the people wanted them, and such never failed to be punished
severely, as indeed they deserved.
But after all that was or could be done in these cases, the
shutting up of houses, so as to confine those that were well with those that
were sick, had very great inconveniences in it, and some that were very
tragical, and which merited to have been considered if there had been room for
it. But it was authorized by a law, it had the public good in view as the end
chiefly aimed at, and all the private injuries that were done by the putting it
in execution must be put to the account of the public benefit.
It is doubtful to this day whether, in the whole, it
contributed anything to the stop of the infection; and indeed I cannot say it
did, for nothing could run with greater fury and rage than the infection did when
it was in its chief violence, though the houses infected were shut up as
exactly and as effectually as it was possible. Certain it is that if all the
infected persons were effectually shut in, no sound person could have been
infected by them, because they could not have come near them. But the case was
this (and I shall only touch it here): namely, that the infection was propagated
insensibly, and by such persons as were not visibly infected, who neither knew
whom they infected or who they were infected by.
A house in Whitechapel was shut up for the sake of one
infected maid, who had only spots, not the tokens come out upon her, and
recovered; yet these people obtained no liberty to stir, neither for air or
exercise, forty days. Want of breath, fear, anger, vexation, and all the other
gifts attending such an injurious treatment cast the mistress of the family
into a fever, and visitors came into the house and said it was the plague,
though the physicians declared it was not. However, the family were obliged to
begin their quarantine anew on the report of the visitors or examiner, though
their former quarantine wanted but a few days of being finished. This oppressed
them so with anger and grief, and, as before, straitened them also so much as
to room, and for want of breathing and free air, that most of the family fell
sick, one of one distemper, one of another, chiefly scorbutic ailments; only
one, a violent colic; till, after several prolonging's of their confinement,
some or other of those that came in with the visitors to inspect the persons
that were ill, in hopes of releasing them, brought the distemper with them and
infected the whole house; and all or most of them died, not of the plague as
really upon them before, but of the plague that those people brought them, who
should have been careful to have protected them from it. And this was a thing
which frequently happened and was indeed one of the worst consequences of
shutting houses up.
I had about this time a little hardship put upon me, which I
was at first greatly afflicted at, and very much disturbed about though, as it
proved, it did not expose me to any disaster; and this was being appointed by
the alderman of Ports ken Ward one of the examiners of the houses in the
precinct where I lived. We had a large parish, and had no less than eighteen
examiners, as the order called us; the people called us visitors. I endeavored
with all my might to be excused from such an employment, and used many
arguments with the alderman's deputy to be excused; particularly I alleged that
I was against shutting up houses at all, and that it would be very hard to
oblige me to be an instrument in that which was against my judgement, and which
I did verily believe would not answer the end it was intended for; but all the abatement
I could get was only, that whereas the officer was appointed by my Lord Mayor
to continue two months, I should be obliged to hold it but three weeks, on
condition nevertheless that I could then get some other sufficient housekeeper
to serve the rest of the time for me—which was, in short, but a very small favor,
it being very difficult to get any man to accept of such an employment, that
was fit to be entrusted with it.
It is true that shutting up of houses had one effect, which
I am sensible was of moment, namely, it confined the distempered people, who
would otherwise have been both very troublesome and very dangerous in their
running about streets with the distemper upon them—which, when they were
delirious, they would have done in a most frightful manner, and as indeed they
began to do at first very much, till they were thus restrained; nay, so very
open they were that the poor would go about and beg at people's doors, and say
they had the plague upon them, and beg rags for their sores, or both, or
anything that delirious nature happened to think of.
A poor, unhappy gentlewoman, a substantial citizen's wife,
was (if the story be true) murdered by one of these creatures in Alders gate
Street, or that way. He was going along the street, raving mad to be sure, and
singing; the people only said he was drunk, but he himself said he had the
plague upon him, which it seems was true; and meeting this gentlewoman, he
would kiss her. She was terribly freighted, as he was only a rude fellow, and
she ran from him, but the street being very thin of people, there was nobody
near enough to help her. When she saw he would overtake her, she turned and
gave him a thrust so forcibly, he is being but weak, and pushed him down
backward. But very unhappily, she being so near, he caught hold of her and
pulled her down also, and getting up first, mastered her and kissed her; and
which was worst of all, when he had done, told her he had the plague, and why
should not she have it as well as he? She was freighted enough before, being
also young with child; but when she heard him say he had the plague, she
screamed out and fell down into a swoon, or in a fit, which, though she
recovered a little, yet killed her in a very few days; and I never heard
whether she had the plague or no.
Another infected person came and knocked at the door of a
citizen's house where they knew him very well; the servant let him in, and
being told the master of the house was above, he ran up and came into the room
to them as the whole family was at supper. They began to rise, a little
surprised, not knowing what the matter was; but he bid them sit still, he only
came to take his leave of them. They asked him, 'Why, Mr.—, where are you
going?' 'Going,' says he; 'I have got the sickness and shall die tomorrow
night.' Tic easy to believe, though not to describe, the consternation they
were all in. The women and the man's daughters, which were but little girls,
were freighted almost to death and got up, one running out at one door and one
at another, some downstairs and some upstairs, and getting together as well as
they could, locked themselves into their chambers and screamed out at the
window for help, as if they had been freighted out of their wits. The master,
more composed than they, though both freighted and provoked, was going to lay
hands on him and throw him downstairs, being in a passion; but then,
considering a little the condition of the man and the danger of touching him,
horror seized his mind, and he stood still like one astonished. The poor distempered
man all this while, being as well diseased in his brain as in his body, stood
still like one amazed. At length he turns around: 'Ay!' says he, with all the
seeming calmness imaginable, 'is it so with you all? Are you all disturbed at
me? Why, then I'll even go home and die there.' And so, he goes immediately
downstairs. The servant that had let him in goes down after him with a candle
but was afraid to go past him and open the door, so he stood on the stairs to
see what he would do. The man went and opened the door and went out and flung
the door after him. It was some while before the family recovered the fright,
but as no ill consequence attended, they have had occasion since to speak of it
(You may be sure) with great satisfaction. Though the man was gone, it was some
time—nay, as I heard, some days before they recovered themselves of the hurry
they were in; nor did they go up and down the house with any assurance till
they had burnt a great variety of fumes and perfumes in all the rooms, and made
a great many smokes of pitch, of gunpowder, and of Sulphur, all separately
shifted, and washed their clothes, and the like. As to the poor man, whether he
lived or died I don't remember.
It is most certain that, if by the shutting up of houses the
sick had not been confined, multitudes who in the height of their fever were
delirious and distracted would have been continually running up and down the
streets; and even as it was a very great number did so, and offered all sorts
of violence to those they met, even just as a mad dog runs on and bites at
every one he meets; nor can I doubt but that, should one of those infected,
diseased creatures have bitten any man or woman while the frenzy of the
distemper was upon them, they, I mean the person so wounded, would as certainly
have been incurably infected as one that was sick before, and had the tokens
upon him.
I heard of one infected creature who, running out of his bed
in his shirt in the anguish and agony of his swellings, of which he had three
upon him, got his shoes on and went to put on his coat; but the nurse
resisting, and snatching the coat from him, he threw her down, ran over her,
ran downstairs and into the street, directly to the Thames in his shirt; the
nurse running after him, and calling to the watch to stop him; but the
watchman, freighted at the man, and afraid to touch him, let him go on; upon
which he ran down to the Still yard stairs, threw away his shirt, and plunged
into the Thames, and, being a good swimmer, swam quite over the river; and the
tide being coming in, as they call it (that is, running westward) he reached
the land not till he came about the Falcon stairs, where landing, and finding
no people there, it being in the night, he ran about the streets there, naked
as he was, for a good while, when, it being by that time high water, he takes
the river again, and swam back to the Still yard, landed, ran up the streets
again to his own house, knocking at the door, went up the stairs and into his
bed again; and that this terrible experiment cured him of the plague, that is
to say, that the violent motion of his arms and legs stretched the parts where
the swellings he had upon him were, that is to say, under his arms and his
groin, and caused them to ripen and break; and that the cold of the water abated
the fever in his blood.
I have only to add that I do not relate this any more than
some of the other, as a fact within my own knowledge, so as that I can vouch
the truth of them, and especially that of the man being cured by the
extravagant adventure, which I confess I do not think very possible; but it may
serve to confirm the many desperate things which the distressed people falling
into deliriums, and what we call light-headedness, were frequently run upon at
that time, and how infinitely more such there would have been if such people
had not been confined by the shutting up of houses; and this I take to be the
best, if not the only good thing which was performed by that severe method.
On the other hand, the complaints and the murmurings were very
bitter against the thing itself. It would pierce the hearts of all that came by
to hear the piteous cries of those infected people, who, being thus out of
their understandings by the violence of their pain or the heat of their blood,
were either shut in or perhaps tied in their beds and chairs, to prevent their
doing themselves hurt—and who would make a dreadful outcry at their being
confined, and at their being not permitted to die at large, as they called it,
and as they would have done before.
This running of distempered people about the streets was
very dismal, and the magistrates did their utmost to prevent it; but as it was
generally in the night and always sudden when such attempts were made, the
officers could not be at hand to prevent it; and even when any got out in the
day, the officers appointed did not care to meddle with them, because, as they
were all grievously infected, to be sure, when they were come to that height,
so they were more than ordinarily infectious, and it was one of the most dangerous
things that could be to touch them. On the other hand, they generally ran on,
not knowing what they did, till they dropped down stark dead, or till they had
exhausted their spirits so as that they would fall and then die in perhaps
half-an-hour or an hour; and, which was most piteous to hear, they were sure to
come to themselves entirely in that half-hour or hour, and then to make most
grievous and piercing cries and lamentations in the deep, afflicting sense of
the condition they were in. This was much of it before the order for shutting
up of houses was strictly put in execution, for at first the watchmen were not
so vigorous and severe as they were afterward in the keeping the people in;
that is to say, before they were (I mean some of them) severely punished for
their neglect, failing in their duty, and letting people who were under their
care slip away, or conniving at their going abroad, whether sick or well. But
after they saw the officers appointed to examine into their conduct were resolved
to have them do their duty or be punished for the omission, they were more
exact, and the people were strictly restrained; which was a thing they took so
ill and bore so impatiently that their discontents can hardly be described. But
there was an absolute necessity for it, that must be confessed, unless some
other measures had been timely entered upon, and it was too late for that.
Had not this particular (of the sick being restrained as
above) been our case at that time, London would have been the most dreadful
place that ever was in the world; there would, for aught I know, have as many
people died in the streets as died in their houses; for when the distemper was
at its height it generally made them raving and delirious, and when they were
so they would never be persuaded to keep in their beds but by force; and many
who were not tied threw themselves out of windows when they found they could
not get leave to go out of their doors.
It was for want of people conversing one with another, in
this time of calamity, that it was impossible any particular person could come
at the knowledge of all the extraordinary cases that occurred in different
families; and particularly I believe it was never known to this day how many
people in their deliriums drowned themselves in the Thames, and in the river
which runs from the marshes by Hackney, which we generally called Ware River,
or Hackney River. As to those which were set down in the weekly bill, they were
indeed few; nor could it be known of any of those whether they drowned
themselves by accident or not. But I believe I might reckon up more who within
the compass of my knowledge or observation really drowned themselves in that
year, than are put down in the bill of all put together: for many of the bodies
were never found who yet were known to be lost; and the like in other methods
of self-destruction. There was also one man in or about Whitecross Street
burned himself to death in his bed; some said it was done by himself, others
that it was by the treachery of the nurse that attended him; but that he had
the plague upon him was agreed by all.
It was a merciful disposition of Providence also, and which
I have many times thought of at that time, that no fires, or no considerable
ones at least, happened in the city during that year, which, if it had been
otherwise, would have been very dreadful; and either the people must have let
them alone unquenched, or have come together in great crowds and throngs,
unconcerned at the danger of the infection, not concerned at the houses they
went into, at the goods they handled, or at the persons or the people they came
along. But so, it was, that excepting that in Cripple gate parish, and two or
three little eruptions of fires, which were presently extinguished, there was
no disaster of that kind happened in the whole year. They told us a story of a
house in a place called Swan Alley, passing from Goswell Street, near the end
of Old Street, into St John Street, that a family was infected there in so
terrible a manner that every one of the house died. The last person lay dead on
the floor, and, as it is supposed, had lain herself all along to die just
before the fire; the fire, it seems, had fallen from its place, being of wood,
and had taken hold of the boards and the joists they lay on, and burnt as far
as just to the body, but had not taken hold of the dead body (though she had
little more than her shift on) and had gone out of itself, not burning the rest
of the house, though it was a slight timber house. How true this might be I do
not determine, but the city being to suffer severely the next year by fire,
this year it felt very little of that calamity.
Indeed, considering the deliriums which the agony threw
people into, and how I have mentioned in their madness, when they were alone,
they did many desperate things, it was very strange there were no more
disasters of that kind.
It has been frequently asked me, and I cannot say that I
ever knew how to give a direct answer to it, how it came to pass that so many
infected people appeared abroad in the streets at the same time that the houses
which were infected were so vigilantly searched, and all of them shut up and
guarded as they were.
I confess I know not what answer to give to this, unless it
be this: that in so great and populous a city as this is it was impossible to
discover every house that was infected as soon as it was so, or to shut up all
the houses that were infected; so that people had the liberty of going about
the streets, even where they Pleased, unless they were known to belong to
such-and-such infected houses.
It is true that, as several physicians told my Lord Mayor,
the fury of the contagion was such at some particular times, and people
sickened so fast and died so soon, that it was impossible, and indeed to no purpose,
to go about to inquire who was sick and who was well, or to shut them up with
such exactness as the thing required, almost every house in a whole street
being infected, and in many places every person in some of the houses; and that
which was still worse, by the time that the houses were known to be infected,
most of the persons infected would be stone dead, and the rest run away for
fear of being shut up; so that it was to very small purpose to call them
infected houses and shut them up, the infection having ravaged and taken its
leave of the house before it was really known that the family was any way
touched.
This might be sufficient to convince any reasonable person
that as it was not in the power of the magistrates or of any human methods of
policy, to prevent the spreading the infection, so that this way of shutting up
of houses was perfectly insufficient for that end. Indeed it seemed to have no
manner of public good in it, equal or proportionable to the grievous burden
that it was to the particular families that were so shut up; and, as far as I
was employed by the public in directing that severity, I frequently found
occasion to see that it was incapable of answering the end. For example, as I
was desired, as a visitor or examiner, to inquire into the particulars of
several families which were infected, we scarce came to any house where the
plague had visibly appeared in the family but that some of the family were fled
and gone. The magistrates would resent this and charge the examiners with being
remiss in their examination or inspection. But by that means houses were long
infected before it was known. Now, as I was in this dangerous office but half
the appointed time, which was two months, it was long enough to inform myself
that we were no way capable of coming at the knowledge of the true state of any
family but by inquiring at the door or of the neighbors. As for going into
every house to search, that was a part no authority would offer to impose on
the inhabitants, or any citizen would undertake: for it would have been
exposing us to certain infection and death, and to the ruin of our own families
as well as of ourselves; nor would any citizen of probity, and that could be
depended upon, have stayed in the town if they had been made liable to such a
severity.
Seeing then that we could come at the certainty of things by
no method but that of inquiry of the neighbors or of the family, and on that we
could not justly depend, it was not possible but that the uncertainty of this
matter would remain as above.
It is true masters of families were bound by the order to
give notice to the examiner of the place wherein he lived, within two hours
after he should discover it, of any person being sick in his house (that is to
say, having signs of the infection)—but they found so many ways to evade this
and excuse their negligence that they seldom gave that notice till they had
taken measures to have every one escape out of the house who had a mind to
escape, whether they were sick or sound; and while this was so, it is easy to
see that the shutting up of houses was no way to be depended upon as a
sufficient method for putting a stop to the infection because, as I have said
elsewhere, many of those that so went out of those infected houses had the
plague really upon them, though they might really think themselves sound. And
some of these were the people that walked the streets till they fell down dead,
not that they were suddenly struck with the distemper as with a bullet that
killed with the stroke, but that they really had the infection in their blood
long before; only, that as it preyed secretly on the vitals, it appeared not
till it seized the heart with a mortal power, and the patient died in a moment,
as with a sudden fainting or an apoplectic fit.
I know that some even of our physicians thought for a time
that those people that so died in the streets were seized but that moment they
fell, as if they had been touched by a stroke from heaven as men are killed by
a flash of lightning—but they found reason to alter their opinion afterward;
for upon examining the bodies of such after they were dead, they always either
had tokens upon them or other evident proofs of the distemper having been
longer upon them than they had otherwise expected.
This often was the reason that, as I have said, we that were
examiners were not able to come at the knowledge of the infection being entered
into a house till it was too late to shut it up, and sometimes not till the
people that were left were all dead. In Petticoat Lane two houses together were
infected, and several people sick; but the distemper was so well concealed, the
examiner, who was my neighbor, got no knowledge of it till notice was sent him
that the people were all dead, and that the carts should call there to fetch
them away. The two heads of the families concerted their measures, and so
ordered their matters as that when the examiner was in the neighborhood they
appeared generally at a time, and answered, that is, lied, for one another, or
got some of the neighborhood to say they were all in health—and perhaps knew no
better—till, death making it impossible to keep it any longer as a secret, the
dead-carts were called in the night to both the houses, and so it became
public. But when the examiner ordered the constable to shut up the houses there
was nobody left in them but three people, two in one house and one in the
other, just dying, and a nurse in each house who acknowledged that they had
buried five before, that the houses had been infected nine or ten days, and
that for all the rest of the two families, which were many, they were gone,
some sick, some well, or whether sick or well could not be known.
In like manner, at another house in the same lane, a man
having his family infected but very unwilling to be shut up, when he could
conceal it no longer, shut up himself; that is to say, he set the great red
cross upon his door with the words, 'Lord have mercy upon us', and so deluded
the examiner, who supposed it had been done by the constable by order of the
other examiner, for there were two examiners to every district or precinct. By
this means he had free egress and regress into his house again and out of it,
as he pleased, notwithstanding it was infected, till at length his stratagem
was found out; and then he, with the sound part of his servants and family,
made off and escaped, so they were not shut up at all.
These things made it very hard, if not impossible, as I have
said, to prevent the spreading of an infection by the shutting up of
houses—unless the people would think the shutting of their houses no grievance,
and be so willing to have it done as that they would give notice duly and
faithfully to the magistrates of their being infected as soon as it was known
by themselves; but as that cannot be expected from them, and the examiners
cannot be supposed, as above, to go into their houses to visit and search, all
the good of shutting up houses will be defeated, and few houses will be shut up
in time, except those of the poor, who cannot conceal it, and of some people who
will be discovered by the terror and consternation which the things put them
into.
I got myself discharged of the dangerous office I was in as
soon as I could get another admitted, whom I had obtained for a little money to
accept of it; and so, instead of serving the two months, which was directed, I
was not above three weeks in it; and a great while too, considering it was in
the month of August, at which time the distemper began to rage with great
violence at our end of the town.
In the execution of this office I could not refrain speaking
my opinion among my neighbors as to this shutting up the people in their
houses; in which we saw most evidently the severities that were used, though
grievous in themselves, had also this particular objection against them:
namely, that they did not answer the end, as I have said, but that the
distempered people went day by day about the streets; and it was our united
opinion that a method to have removed the sound from the sick, in case of a
particular house being visited, would have been much more reasonable on many
accounts, leaving nobody with the sick persons but such as should on such
occasion request to stay and declare themselves content to be shut up with
them.
Our scheme for removing those that were sound from those
that were sick was only in such houses as were infected, and confining the sick
was no confinement; those that could not stir would not complain while they
were in their senses and while they had the power of judging. Indeed, when they
came to be delirious and light-headed, then they would cry out of the cruelty
of being confined; but for the removal of those that were well, we thought it
highly reasonable and just, for their own sakes, they should be removed from
the sick, and that for other people's safety they should keep retired for a
while, to see that they were sound, and might not infect others; and we thought
twenty or thirty days enough for this.
Now, certainly, if houses had been provided on purpose for
those that were sound to perform this demi-quarantine in, they would have much
less reason to think themselves injured in such a restraint than in being
confined with infected people in the houses where they lived.
It is here, however, to be observed that after the funerals
became so many that people could not toll the bell, mourn or weep, or wear
black for one another, as they did before; no, nor so much as make coffins for
those that died; so after a while the fury of the infection appeared to be so
increased that, in short, they shut up no houses at all. It seemed enough that
all the remedies of that kind had been used till they were found fruitless, and
that the plague spread itself with an irresistible fury; so that as the fire
the succeeding year spread itself, and burned with such violence that the
citizens, in despair, gave over their endeavors to extinguish it, so in the
plague it came at last to such violence that the people sat still looking at
one another, and seemed quite abandoned to despair; whole streets seemed to be
desolated, and not to be shut up only, but to be emptied of their inhabitants;
doors were left open, windows stood shattering with the wind in empty houses
for want of people to shut them. In a word, people began to give up themselves
to their fears and to think that all regulations and methods were in vain, and
that there was nothing to be hoped for but an universal desolation; and it was
even in the height of this general despair that it Pleased God to stay His
hand, and to slacken the fury of the contagion in such a manner as was even
surprising, like its beginning, and demonstrated it to be His own particular
hand, and that above, if not without the agency of means, as I shall take
notice of in its proper place.
But I must still speak of the plague as in its height,
raging even to desolation, and the people under the most dreadful
consternation, even, as I have said, to despair. It is hardly credible to what
excess the passions of men carried them in this extremity of the distemper, and
this part, I think, was as moving as the rest. What could affect a man in his
full power of reflection, and what could make deeper impressions on the soul,
than to see a man almost naked, and got out of his house, or perhaps out of his
bed, into the street, come out of Harrow Alley, a populous conjunction or
collection of alleys, courts, and passages in the Butcher Row in Whitechapel,—I
say, what could be more affecting than to see this poor man come out into the
open street, run dancing and singing and making a thousand antic gestures, with
five or six women and children running after him, crying and calling upon him
for the Lord's sake to come back, and entreating the help of others to bring
him back, but all in vain, nobody daring to lay a hand upon him or to come near
him?
This was a most grievous and afflicting thing to me, who saw
it all from my own windows; for all this while the poor afflicted man was, as I
observed it, even then in the utmost agony of pain, having (as they said) two
swellings upon him which could not be brought to break or to suppurate; but, by
laying strong caustics on them, the surgeons had, it seems, hopes to break
them—which caustics were then upon him, burning his flesh as with a hot iron. I
cannot say what became of this poor man, but I think he continued roving about
in that manner till he fell and died.
No wonder the aspect of the city itself was frightful. The
usual concourse of people in the streets, and which used to be supplied from
our end of the town, was abated. The Exchange was not kept shut, indeed, but it
was no more frequented. The fires were lost; they had been almost extinguished
for some days by a very smart and hasty rain. But that was not all; some of the
physicians insisted that they were not only no benefit, but injurious to the
health of people. This they made a loud clamor about and complained to the Lord
Mayor about it. On the other hand, others of the same faculty, and eminent too,
opposed them, and gave their reasons why the fires were, and must be, useful to
assuage the violence of the distemper. I cannot give a full account of their
arguments on both sides; only this I remember that they caviled very much with
one another. Some were for fires, but that they must be made of wood and not
coal, and of particular sorts of wood too, such as fir in particular, or cedar,
because of the strong effluvia of turpentine; others were for coal and not
wood, because of the Sulphur and bitumen; and others were for neither one or
other. Upon the whole, the Lord Mayor ordered no more fires, and especially on
this account, namely, that the plague was so fierce that they saw evidently it
defied all means, and rather seemed to increase than decrease upon any
application to check and abate it; and yet this amazement of the magistrates
proceeded rather from want of being able to apply any means successfully than
from any unwillingness either to expose themselves or undertake the care and
weight of business; for, to do them justice, they neither spared their pains
nor their persons. But nothing answered; the infection raged, and the people
were now freighted and terrified to the last degree: so that, as I may say,
they gave themselves up, and, as I mentioned above, abandoned themselves to
their despair.
But let me observe here that, when I say the people
abandoned themselves to despair, I do not mean to what men call a religious
despair, or a despair of their eternal state, but I mean a despair of their
being able to escape the infection or to outlive the plague which they saw was
so raging and so irresistible in its force that indeed few people that were
touched with it in its height, about August and September, escaped; and, which
is very particular, contrary to its ordinary operation in June and July, and
the beginning of August, when, as I have observed, many were infected, and
continued so many days, and then went off after having had the poison in their
blood a long time; but now, on the contrary, most of the people who were taken
during the two last weeks in August and in the three first weeks in September,
generally died in two or three days at furthest, and many the very same day
they were taken; whether the dog-days, or, as our astrologers pretended to
express themselves, the influence of the dog-star, had that malignant effect,
or all those who had the seeds of infection before in them brought it up to a
maturity at that time altogether, I know not; but this was the time when it was
reported that above 3000 people died in one night; and they that would have us
believe they more critically observed it pretend to say that they all died
within the space of two hours, viz., between the hours of one and three in the
morning.
As to the suddenness of people's dying at this time, more
than before, there were innumerable instances of it, and I could name several
in my neighborhood. One family without the Bars, and not far from me, were all
seemingly well on the Monday, being ten in family. That evening one maid and
one apprentice were taken ill and died the next morning—when the other
apprentice and two children were touched, whereof one died the same evening,
and the other two on Wednesday. In a word, by Saturday at noon the master,
mistress, four children, and four servants were all gone, and the house left
entirely empty, except an ancient woman who came in to take charge of the goods
for the master of the family's brother, who lived not far off, and who had not
been sick.
Many houses were then left desolate, all the people being
carried away dead, and especially in an alley farther on the same side beyond
the Bars, going in at the sign of Moses and Aaron, there were several houses
together which, they said, had not one person left alive in them; and some that
died last in several of those houses were left a little too long before they
were fetched out to be buried; the reason of which was not, as some have
written very untruly, that the living were not sufficient to bury the dead, but
that the mortality was so great in the yard or alley that there was nobody left
to give notice to the buriers or sextons that there were any dead bodies there
to be buried. It was said, how true I know not, that some of those bodies were
so much corrupted and so rotten that it was with difficulty they were carried;
and as the carts could not come any nearer than to the Alley Gate in the High
Street, it was so much the more difficult to bring them along; but I am not
certain how many bodies were then left. I am sure that ordinarily it was not
so.
As I have mentioned how the people were brought into a
condition to despair of life and abandon themselves, so this very thing had a
strange effect among us for three or four weeks; that is, it made them bold and
venturous: they were no more shy of one another, or restrained within doors,
but went anywhere and everywhere, and began to converse. One would say to
another, 'I do not ask you how you are, or say how I am; it is certain we shall
all go; so 'tis no matter who is all sick or who is sound'; and so they ran
desperately into any place or any company.
As it brought the people into public company, so it was
surprising how it brought them to crowd into the churches. They inquired no
more into whom they sat near to or far from, what offensive smells they met
with, or what condition the people seemed to be in; but, looking upon
themselves all as so many dead corpses, they came to the churches without the
least caution, and crowded together as if their lives were of no consequence
compared to the work which they came about there. Indeed, the zeal which they
showed in coming, and the earnestness and affection they showed in their
attention to what they heard, made it manifest what a value people would all
put upon the worship of God if they thought every day they attended at the
church that it would be their last.
Nor was it without other strange effects, for it took away,
all manner of prejudice at or scruple about the person whom they found in the
pulpit when they came to the churches. It cannot be doubted but that many of
the ministers of the parish churches were cut off, among others, in so common
and dreadful a calamity; and others had not courage enough to stand it, but
removed into the country as they found means for escape. As then some parish
churches were quite vacant and forsaken, the people made no scruple of desiring
such Dissenters as had been a few years before deprived of their livings by
virtue of the Act of Parliament called the Act of Uniformity to preach in the
churches; nor did the church ministers in that case make any difficulty of
accepting their assistance; so that many of those whom they called silenced
ministers had their mouths opened on this occasion and preached publicly to the
people.
Here we may observe and I hope it will not be amiss to take
notice of it that a near view of death would soon reconcile men of good principles
one to another, and that it is chiefly owing to our easy situation in life and
our putting these things far from us that our breaches are fomented, ill blood
continued, prejudices, breach of charity and of Christian union, so much kept
and so far carried on among us as it is. Another plague year would reconcile
all these differences; a close conversing with death, or with diseases that
threaten death, would scum off the gall from our tempers, remove the
animosities among us, and bring us to see with differing eyes than those which
we looked on things with before. As the people who had been used to join with
the Church were reconciled at this time with the admitting the Dissenters to
preach to them, so the Dissenters, who with an uncommon prejudice had broken
off from the communion of the Church of England, were now content to come to
their parish churches and to conform to the worship which they did not approve
of before; but as the terror of the infection abated, those things all returned
again to their less desirable channel and to the course they were in before.
I mention this but historically. I have no mind to enter
arguments to move either or both sides to a more charitable compliance one with
another. I do not see that it is probable such a discourse would be either
suitable or successful; the breaches seem rather to widen, and tend to a
widening further, than to closing, and who am I that I should think myself able
to influence either one side or other? But this I may repeat again, that 'tis
evident death will reconcile us all; on the other side the grave we shall be
all brethren again. In heaven, whither I hope we may come from all parties and
persuasions, we shall find neither prejudice or scruple; there we shall be of
one principle and of one opinion. Why we cannot be content to go hand in hand
to the Place where we shall join heart and hand without the least hesitation,
and with the most complete harmony and affection—I say, why we cannot do so
here I can say nothing to, neither shall I say anything more of it but that it
remains to be lamented.
I could dwell a great while upon the calamities of this dreadful
time, and go on to describe the objects that appeared among us every day, the
dreadful extravagancies which the distraction of sick people drove them into;
how the streets began now to be fuller of frightful objects, and families to be
made even a terror to themselves. But after I have told you, as I have above,
that one man, being tied in his bed, and finding no other way to deliver himself,
set the bed on fire with his candle, which unhappily stood within his reach,
and burnt himself in his bed; and how another, by the insufferable torment he
bore, danced and sung naked in the streets, not knowing one ecstasy from
another; I say, after I have mentioned these things, what can be added more?
What can be said to represent the misery of these times livelier to the reader,
or to give him a more perfect idea of a complicated distress?
I must acknowledge that this time was terrible, that I was
sometimes at the end of all my resolutions, and that I had not the courage that
I had at the beginning. As the extremity brought other people abroad, it drove
me home, and except having made my voyage down to Blackwell and Greenwich, as I
have related, which was an excursion, I kept afterwards very much within doors,
as I had for about a fortnight before. I have said already that I repented
several times that I had ventured to stay in town, and had not gone away with
my brother and his family, but it was too late for that now; and after I had
retreated and stayed within doors a good while before my impatience led me abroad,
then they called me, as I have said, to an ugly and dangerous office which
brought me out again; but as that was expired while the height of the distemper
lasted, I retired again, and continued close ten or twelve days more, during
which many dismal spectacles represented themselves in my view out of my own
windows and in our own street—as that particularly from Harrow Alley, of the poor
outrageous creature which danced and sung in his agony; and many others there
were. Scarce a day or night passed over but some dismal thing or other happened
at the end of that Harrow Alley, which was a place full of poor people, most of
them belonging to the butchers or to employments depending upon the butchery.
Sometimes heaps and throngs of people would burst out of the
alley, most of them women, making a dreadful clamor, mixed or compounded of
screeches, crying, and calling one another, that we could not conceive what to
make of it. Almost all the dead part of the night the dead-cart stood at the
end of that alley, for if it went in it could not well turn again and could go
in but a little way. There, I say, it stood to receive dead bodies, and as the
churchyard was but a little way off, if it went away full it would soon be back
again. It is impossible to describe the most horrible cries and noise the poor
people would make at their bringing the dead bodies of their children and
friends out of the cart, and by the number one would have thought there had
been none left behind, or that there were people enough for a small city living
in those places. Several times they cried 'Murder', sometimes 'Fire'; but it
was easy to perceive it was all distraction, and the complaints of distressed
and distempered people.
I believe it was everywhere thus as that time, for the
plague raged for six or seven weeks beyond all that I have expressed, and came
even to such a height that, in the extremity, they began to break into that
excellent order of which I have spoken so much in behalf of the magistrates;
namely, that no dead bodies were seen in the street or burials in the daytime:
for there was a necessity in this extremity to bear with its being otherwise
for a little while.
One thing I cannot omit here, and indeed I thought it was
extraordinary, at least it seemed a remarkable hand of Divine justice: viz.,
that all the predictors, astrologers, fortune-tellers, and what they called
cunning-men, conjurers, and the like: calculators of nativities and dreamers of
dream, and such people, were gone and vanished; not one of them was to be
found. I am verily persuaded that a great number of them fell in the heat of
the calamity, having ventured to stay upon the prospect of getting great
estates; and indeed their gain was but too great for a time, through the
madness and folly of the people. But now they were silent; many of them went to
their long home, not able to foretell their own fate or to calculate their own
nativities. Some have been critical enough to say that every one of them died.
I dare not affirm that; but this I must own, that I never heard of one of them
that ever appeared after the calamity was over.
But to return to my observations during this dreadful part
of the visitation. I am now come, as I have said, to the month of September,
which was the most dreadful of its kind, I believe, that ever London saw; for,
by all the accounts which I have seen of the preceding visitations which have
been in London, nothing has been like it, the number in the weekly bill
amounting to almost 40,000 from the 22nd of August to the 26th of September,
being but five weeks. The particulars of the bills are as follows, viz.: —
From August
the 22nd to the 29th 7496
" " 29th "
5th September 8252
" September the 5th "
12th 7690
" " 12th "
19th 8297
" " 19th "
26th 6460
- ——-
- 38,195
This was a prodigious number of itself, but if I should add
the reasons which I have to believe that this account was deficient, and how
deficient it was, you would, with me, make no scruple to believe that there
died above ten thousand a week for all those weeks, one week with another, and
a proportion for several weeks both before and after. The confusion among the
people, especially within the city, at that time, was inexpressible. The terror
was so great at last that the courage of the people appointed to carry away the
dead began to fail them; nay, several of them died, although they had the
distemper before and were recovered, and some of them dropped down when they
have been carrying the bodies even at the pit side, and just ready to throw
them in; and this confusion was greater in the city because they had flattered
themselves with hopes of escaping, and thought the bitterness of death was
past. One cart, they told us, going up Shore ditch was forsaken of the drivers,
or being left to one man to drive, he died in the street; and the horses going
on overthrew the cart, and left the bodies, some thrown out here, some there,
in a dismal manner. Another cart was, it seems, found in the great pit in Fins
bury Fields, the driver being dead, or having been gone and abandoned it, and
the horses running too near it, the cart fell in and drew the horses in also.
It was suggested that the driver was thrown in with it and that the cart fell
upon him, by reason his whip was seen to be in the pit among the bodies; but
that, I suppose, could not be certain.
In our parish of Landgate the dead-carts were several times,
as I have heard, found standing at the churchyard gate full of dead bodies, but
neither bellman or driver or anyone else with it; neither in these or many
other cases did they know what bodies they had in their cart, for sometimes
they were let down with ropes out of balconies and out of windows, and
sometimes the bearers brought them to the cart, sometimes other people; nor, as
the men themselves said, did they trouble themselves to keep any account of the
numbers.
The vigilance of the magistrates was now put to the utmost
trial—and, it must be confessed, can never be enough acknowledged on this
occasion also; whatever expense or trouble they were at, two things were never
neglected in the city or suburbs either:—
(1) Provisions were always to be had in full plenty, and the
price not much raised neither, hardly worth speaking.
(2) No dead bodies lay unburied or uncovered; and if one
walked from one end of the city to another, no funeral or sign of it was to be
seen in the daytime, except a little, as I have said above, in the three first
weeks in September.
This last article perhaps will hardly be believed when some
accounts which others have published since that shall be seen, wherein they say
that the dead lay unburied, which I am assured was utterly false; at least, if
it had been anywhere so, it must have been in houses where the living were gone
from the dead (having found means, as I have observed, to escape) and where no
notice was given to the officers. All which amounts to nothing at all in the
case in hand; for this I am positive in, having myself been employed a little
in the direction of that part in the parish in which I lived, and where as
great a desolation was made in proportion to the number of inhabitants as was
anywhere; I say, I am sure that there were no dead bodies remained unburied;
that is to say, none that the proper officers knew of; none for want of people
to carry them off, and buriers to put them into the ground and cover them; and
this is sufficient to the argument; for what might lie in houses and holes, as
in Moses and Aaron Alley, is nothing; for it is most certain they were buried
as soon as they were found. As to the first article (namely, of provisions, the
scarcity or dearness), though I have mentioned it before and shall speak of it
again, yet I must observe here: —
(1) The price of bread in particular was not much raised;
for in the beginning of the year, viz., in the first week in March, the penny
wheaten loaf was ten ounces and a half; and in the height of the contagion it
was to be had at nine ounces and a half, and never dearer, no, not all that
season. And about the beginning of November it was sold ten ounces and a half
again; the like of which, I believe, was never heard of in any city, under so
dreadful a visitation, before.
(2) Neither was there (which I wondered much at) any want of
bakers or ovens kept open to supply the people with the bread; but this was
indeed alleged by some families, viz., that their maidservants, going to the
bakehouses with their dough to be baked, which was then the custom, sometimes
came home with the sickness (that is to say the plague) upon them.
In all this dreadful visitation there were, as I have said
before, but two pest-houses made use of, viz., one in the fields beyond Old
Street and one in Westminster; neither was there any compulsion used in
carrying people thither. Indeed there was no need of compulsion in the case,
for there were thousands of poor distressed people who, having no help or
conveniences or supplies but of charity, would have been very glad to have been
carried thither and been taken care of; which, indeed, was the only thing that
I think was wanting in the whole public management of the city, seeing nobody
was here allowed to be brought to the pest-house but where money was given, or
security for money, either at their introducing or upon their being cured and
sent out—for very many were sent out again whole; and very good physicians were
appointed to those places, so that many people did very well there, of which I
shall make mention again. The principal sort of people sent thither were, as I
have said, servants who got the distemper by going on errands to fetch
necessaries to the families where they lived, and who in that case, if they
came home sick, were removed to preserve the rest of the house; and they were
so well looked after there in all the time of the visitation that there was but
156 buried in all at the London pest-house, and 159 at that of Westminster.
By having more pest-houses I am far from meaning a forcing
all people into such places. Had the shutting up of houses been omitted and the
sick hurried out of their dwellings to pest-houses, as some proposed, it seems,
at that time as well as since, it would certainly have been much worse than it
was. The very removing the sick would have been a spreading of the infection,
and rather because that removing could not effectually clear the house where
the sick person was of the distemper; and the rest of the family, being then
left at liberty, would certainly spread it among others.
The methods also in private families, which would have been
universally used to have concealed the distemper and to have concealed the
persons being sick, would have been such that the distemper would sometimes
have seized a whole family before any visitors or examiners could have known of
it. On the other hand, the prodigious numbers which would have been sick at a
time would have exceeded all the capacity of public pest-houses to receive
them, or of public officers to discover and remove them.
This was well considered in those days, and I have heard
them talk of it often. The magistrates had enough to do to bring people to
submit to having their houses shut up, and many ways they deceived the watchmen
and got out, as I have observed. But that difficulty made it apparent that they
would have found it impracticable to have gone the other way to work, for they
could never have forced the sick people out of their beds and out of their
dwellings. It must not have been my Lord Mayor's officers, but an army of
officers, that must have attempted it; and the people, on the other hand, would
have been enraged and desperate, and would have killed those that should have
offered to have meddled with them or with their children and relations,
whatever had befallen them for it; so that they would have made the people,
who, as it was, were in the most terrible distraction imaginable, I say, they
would have made them stark mad; whereas the magistrates found it proper on
several accounts to treat them with lenity and compassion, and not with
violence and terror, such as dragging the sick out of their houses or obliging
them to remove themselves, would have been.
This leads me again to mention the time when the plague
first began; that is to say, when it became certain that it would spread over
the whole town, when, as I have said, the better sort of people first took the
alarm and began to hurry themselves out of town. It was true, as I observed in
its place, that the throng was so great, and the coaches, horses, wagons, and
carts were so many, driving and dragging the people away, that it looked as if
all the city was running away; and had any regulations been published that had
been terrifying at that time, especially such as would pretend to dispose of
the people otherwise than they would dispose of themselves, it would have put
both the city and suburbs into the utmost confusion.
But the magistrates wisely caused the people to be
encouraged, made very goodbye laws for the regulating the citizens, keeping
good order in the streets, and making everything as eligible as possible to all
sorts of people.
In the first place, the Lord Mayor and the sheriffs, the Court
of Aldermen, and a certain number of the Common Council men, or their deputies,
came to a resolution and published it, viz., that they would not quit the city
themselves, but that they would be always at hand for the preserving good order
in every place and for the doing justice on all occasions; as also for the
distributing the public charity to the poor; and, in a word, for the doing the
duty and discharging the trust reposed in them by the citizens to the utmost of
their power.
In pursuance of these orders, the Lord Mayor, sheriffs,
&c., held councils every day, more or less, for making such dispositions as
they found needful for preserving the civil peace; and though they used the
people with all possible gentleness and clemency, yet all manner of presumptuous
rogues such as thieves, housebreakers, plunderers of the dead or of the sick,
were duly punished, and several declarations were continually published by the
Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen against such.
Also all constables and churchwardens were enjoined to stay
in the city upon severe penalties, or to depute such able and sufficient
housekeepers as the deputy aldermen or Common Council men of the precinct
should approve, and for whom they should give security; and also security in
case of mortality that they would forthwith constitute other constables in
their stead.
These things re-established the minds of the people very
much, especially in the first of their fright, when they talked of making so
universal a flight that the city would have been in danger of being entirely
deserted of its inhabitants except the poor, and the country of being plundered
and laid waste by the multitude. Nor were the magistrates deficient in
performing their part as boldly as they promised it; for my Lord Mayor and the
sheriffs were continually in the streets and at places of the greatest danger,
and though they did not care for having too great a resort of people crowding
about them, yet in emergent cases they never denied the people access to them,
and heard with patience all their grievances and complaints. My Lord Mayor had
a low gallery built on purpose in his hall, where he stood a little removed
from the crowd when any complaint came to be heard, that he might appear with
as much safety as possible.
Likewise the proper officers, called my Lord Mayor's
officers, constantly attended in their turns, as they were in waiting; and if
any of them were sick or infected, as some of them were, others were instantly
employed to fill up and officiate in their places till it was known whether the
other should live or die.
In like manner the sheriffs and aldermen did in their
several stations and wards, where they were placed by office, and the sheriff's
officers or sergeants were appointed to receive orders from the respective
aldermen in their turn, so that justice was executed in all cases without
interruption. In the next place, it was one of their particular cares to see
the orders for the freedom of the markets observed, and in this part either the
Lord Mayor or one or both of the sheriffs were every market-day on horseback to
see their orders executed and to see that the country people had all possible
encouragement and freedom in their coming to the markets and going back again,
and that no nuisances or frightful objects should be seen in the streets to
terrify them or make them unwilling to come. Also the bakers were taken under
particular order, and the Master of the Bakers' Company was, with his court of
assistants, directed to see the order of my Lord Mayor for their regulation put
in execution, and the due assize of bread (which was weekly appointed by my
Lord Mayor) observed; and all the bakers were obliged to keep their oven going
constantly, on pain of losing the privileges of a freeman of the city of
London.
By this means bread was always to be had in plenty, and as
cheap as usual, as I said above; and provisions were never wanting in the
markets, even to such a degree that I often wondered at it, and reproached
myself with being so timorous and cautious in stirring abroad, when the country
people came freely and boldly to market, as if there had been no manner of
infection in the city, or danger of catching it.
It was indeed one admirable piece of conduct in the said
magistrates that the streets were kept constantly clear and free from all
manner of frightful objects, dead bodies, or any such things as were indecent
or unpleasant—unless where anybody fell down suddenly or died in the streets,
as I have said above; and these were generally covered with some cloth or
blanket, or removed into the next churchyard till night. All the needful works
that carried terror with them, that were both dismal and dangerous, were done in
the night; if any diseased bodies were removed, or dead bodies buried, or
infected clothes burnt, it was done in the night; and all the bodies which were
thrown into the great pits in the several churchyards or burying-grounds, as
has been observed, were so removed in the night, and everything was covered and
closed before day. So that in the daytime there was not the least signal of the
calamity to be seen or heard of, except what was to be observed from the
emptiness of the streets, and sometimes from the passionate outcries and
lamentations of the people, out at their windows, and from the numbers of
houses and shops shut up.
Nor was the silence and emptiness of the streets so much in
the city as in the out-parts, except just at one time when, as I have
mentioned, the plague came east and spread over all the city. It was indeed a merciful
disposition of God, that as the plague began at one end of the town first (as
has been observed at large) so it proceeded progressively to other parts, and did
not come on this way, or eastward, till it had spent its fury in the West part
of the town; and so, as it came on one way, it abated another. For example, it
began at St Giles's and the Westminster end of the town, and it was in its
height in all that part by about the middle of July, viz., in St
Giles-in-the-Fields, St Andrew's, Hollyburn, St Clement Danes, St
Martin-in-the-Fields, and in Westminster. The latter end of July it decreased
in those parishes; and coming east, it increased prodigiously in Cripple gate,
St Sepulcher's, St James's, Clerkenwell, and St Bride's and Alders gate. While
it was in all these parishes, the city and all the parishes of the Southwark
side of the water and all Stoney, Whitechapel, Landgate, Wrapping, and
Ratcliff, were very little touched; so that people went about their business
unconcerned, carried on their trades, kept open their shops, and conversed
freely with one another in all the city, the east and north-east suburbs, and
in Southwark, almost as if the plague had not been among us.
Even when the north and north-west suburbs were fully
infected, viz., Cripple gate, Clerkenwell, Bishopsgate, and Shore ditch, yet
still all the rest were tolerably well. For example, from 25th July to 1st
August the bill stood thus of all diseases: —
St Giles, Cripple
gate 554
St Sepulchers 250
Clerkenwell 103
Bishopsgate 116
Shore ditch 110
Stoney parish 127
Landgate 92
Whitechapel 104
All the
ninety-seven parishes within the walls
228
All the parishes
in Southwark 205
-
——-
- Total 1889
So that, in short, there died more that week in the two
parishes of Cripple gate and St Sepulcher by forty-eight than in all the city,
all the east suburbs, and all the Southwark parishes put together. This caused
the reputation of the city's health to continue all over England—and especially
in the counties and markets adjacent, from whence our supply of provisions
chiefly came even much longer than that health itself continued; for when the
people came into the streets from the country by Shore ditch and Bishopsgate,
or by Old Street and Smithfield, they would see the out-streets empty and the
houses and shops shut, and the few people that were stirring there walk in the
middle of the streets. But when they came within the city, there things looked
better, and the markets and shops were open, and the people walking about the
streets as usual, though not quite so many; and this continued till the latter
end of August and the beginning of September.
But then the case altered quite; the distemper abated in the
west and north-west parishes, and the weight of the infection lay on the city
and the eastern suburbs, and the Southwark side, and this in a frightful
manner. Then, indeed, the city began to look dismal, shops to be shut, and the
streets desolate. In the High Street, indeed, necessity made people stir abroad
on many occasions; and there would be in the middle of the day a pretty many
people, but in the mornings and evenings scarce any to be seen, even there, no,
not in Cornhill and Cheapside.
These observations of mine were abundantly confirmed by the
weekly bills of mortality for those weeks, an abstract of which, as they
respect the parishes which I have mentioned and as they make the calculations I
speak of very evident, take as follows.
The weekly bill, which makes out this decrease of the
burials in the west and north side of the city, stands thus—
From the 12th of
September to the 19th—
- St Giles, Cripple gate 456
- St Giles-in-the-Fields 140
- Clerkenwell 77
- St Sepulcher 214
- St Leonard, Shore ditch 183
- Stoney parish 716
- Landgate 623
- Whitechapel 532
- In the ninety-seven parishes within the
walls 1493
- In the eight parishes on Southwark
side 1636
- ——-
- Total 6060
Here is a strange change of things indeed, and a sad change
it was and had it held for two months more than it did, very few people would
have been left alive. But then such, I say, was the merciful disposition of God
that, when it was thus, the west and north part which had been so dreadfully
visited at first, grew, as you see, much better; and as the people disappeared
here, they began to look abroad again there; and the next week or two altered
it still more; that is, more to the encouragement of the other part of the
town. For example: —
From the 19th of
September to the 26th—
- St Giles, Cripple gate 277
- St Giles-in-the-Fields 119
- Clerkenwell 76
- St Sepulchers 193
- St Leonard, Shore ditch 146
- Stoney
parish 616
- Landgate 496
- Whitechapel 346
- In the ninety-seven parishes within the walls
1268
- In the eight parishes on Southwark side 1390
-
——-
- Total 4927
From the 26th of
September to the 3rd of October—
- St Giles, Cripple gate 196
- St Giles-in-the-Fields 95
- Clerkenwell 48
- St Sepulchers 137
- St Leonard, Shore ditch 128
- Stoney
parish
674
- Landgate 372
- Whitechapel 328
- In the ninety-seven parishes within the walls
1149
- In the eight parishes on Southwark
side 1201
-
——-
- Total 4382
And now the misery of the city and of the said east and south
parts was complete indeed; for, as you see, the weight of the distemper lay
upon those parts, that is to say, the city, the eight parishes over the river,
with the parishes of Landgate, Whitechapel, and Stoney; and this was the time
that the bills came up to such a monstrous height as that I mentioned before,
and that eight or nine, and, as I believe, ten or twelve thousand a week, died;
for it is my settled opinion that they never could come at any just account of
the numbers, for the reasons which I have given already.
Nay, one of the most eminent physicians, who has since
published in Latin an account of those times, and of his observations says that
in one week there died twelve thousand people, and that particularly there died
four thousand in one night; though I do not remember that there ever was any
such particular night so remarkably fatal as that such a number died in it.
However, all this confirms what I have said above of the uncertainty of the
bills of mortality, &c., of which I shall say more hereafter.
And here let me take leave to enter again, though it may
seem a repetition of circumstances, into a description of the miserable
condition of the city itself, and of those parts where I lived at this time.
The city and those other parts, notwithstanding the great numbers of people
that were gone into the country, was vastly full of people; and perhaps the
fuller because people had for a long time a strong belief that the plague would
not come into the city, nor into Southwark, no, nor into Wrapping or Ratcliff
at all; nay, such was the assurance of the people on that head that many
removed from the suburbs on the west and north sides, into those eastern and
south sides as for safety; and, as I verily believe, carried the plague amongst
them there perhaps sooner than they would otherwise have had it.
Here also I ought to leave a further remark for the use of
posterity, concerning the manner of people's infecting one another; namely,
that it was not the sick people only from whom the plague was immediately
received by others that were sound, but the well. To explain myself: by the
sick people I mean those who were known to be sick, had taken their beds, had
been under cure, or had swellings and tumors upon them, and the like; these
everybody could beware of; they were either in their beds or in such condition
as could not be concealed.
By the well I mean such as had received the contagion, and
had it really upon them, and in their blood, yet did not show the consequences
of it in their countenances: nay, even were not sensible of it themselves, as
many were not for several days. These breathed death in every place, and upon
everybody who came near them; nay, their very clothes retained the infection,
their hands would infect the things they touched, especially if they were warm
and sweaty, and they were generally apt to sweat too.
Now it was impossible to know these people, nor did they
sometimes, as I have said, know themselves to be infected. These were the
people that so often dropped down and fainted in the streets; for oftentimes
they would go about the streets to the last, till on a sudden they would sweat,
grow faint, sit down at a door and die. It is true, finding themselves thus,
they would struggle hard to get home to their own doors, or at other times
would be just able to go into their houses and die instantly; other times they
would go about till they had the very tokens come out upon them, and yet not
know it, and would die in an hour or two after they came home, but be well as
long as they were abroad. These were the dangerous people; these were the
people of whom the well people ought to have been afraid; but then, on the
other side, it was impossible to know them.
And this is the reason why it is impossible in a visitation
to prevent the spreading of the plague by the utmost human vigilance: viz.,
that it is impossible to know the infected people from the sound, or that the
infected people should perfectly know themselves. I knew a man who conversed
freely in London all the season of the plague in 1665, and kept about him an
antidote or cordial on purpose to take when he thought himself in any danger,
and he had such a rule to know or have warning of the danger by as indeed I
never met with before or since. How far it may be depended on I know not. He
had a wound in his leg, and whenever he came among any people that were not
sound, and the infection began to affect him, he said he could know it by that
signal, viz., that his wound in his leg would smart, and look pale and white;
so as soon as ever he felt it smart it was time for him to withdraw, or to take
care of himself, taking his drink, which he always carried about him for that
purpose. Now it seems he found his wound would smart many times when he was in
company with such who thought themselves to be sound, and who appeared so to
one another; but he would presently rise up and say publicly, 'Friends, here is
somebody in the room that has the plague', and so would immediately break up
the company. This was indeed a faithful monitor to all people that the plague
is not to be avoided by those that converse promiscuously in a town infected,
and people have it when they know it not, and that they likewise give it to
others when they know not that they have it themselves; and in this case shutting
up the well or removing the sick will not do it, unless they can go back and
shut up all those that the sick had conversed with, even before they knew
themselves to be sick, and none knows how far to carry that back, or where to
stop; for none knows when or where or how they may have received the infection,
or from whom.
This I take to be the reason which makes so many people talk
of the air being corrupted and infected, and that they need not be cautious of
whom they converse with, for that the contagion was in the air. I have seen
them in strange agitations and surprises on this account. 'I have never come
near any infected body', says the disturbed person; 'I have conversed with none
but sound, healthy people, and yet I have gotten the distemper!' 'I am sure I
am struck from Heaven', says another, and he falls to the serious part. Again,
the first goes on exclaiming, 'I have come near no infection or any infected
person; I am sure it is the air. We draw in death when we breathe, and
therefore 'tis the hand of God; there is no withstanding it.' And this at last
made many people, being hardened to the danger, grow less concerned at it; and
less cautious towards the latter end of the time, and when it was come to its
height, than they were at first. Then, with a kind of a Turkish predestinarians,
they would say, if it pleased God to strike them, it was all one whether they
went abroad or stayed at home; they could not escape it, and therefore they
went boldly about, even into infected houses and infected company; visited sick
people; and, in short, lay in the beds with their wives or relations when they
were infected. And what was the consequence, but the same that is the
consequence in Turkey, and in those countries where they do those
things—namely, that they were infected too, and died by hundreds and thousands?
I would be far from lessening the awe of the judgements of
God and the reverence to His providence which ought always to be on our minds
on such occasions as these. Doubtless the visitation itself is a stroke from
Heaven upon a city, or country, or nation where it falls; a messenger of His
vengeance, and a loud call to that nation or country or city to humiliation and
repentance, according to that of the prophet Jeremiah (xviii. 7, 8): 'At what instant
I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and
to pull down, and to destroy it; if that nation against whom I have pronounced
turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil that I thought to do unto
them.' Now to prompt due impressions of the awe of God on the minds of men on
such occasions, and not to lessen them, it is that I have left those minutes
upon record.
I say, therefore, I reflect upon no man for putting the
reason of those things upon the immediate hand of God, and the appointment and
direction of His providence; nay, on the contrary, there were many wonderful
deliverances of persons from infection, and deliverances of persons when
infected, which intimate singular and remarkable providence in the particular
instances to which they refer; and I esteem my own deliverance to be one next
to miraculous, and do record it with thankfulness.
But when I am speaking of the plague as a distemper arising
from natural causes, we must consider it as it was really propagated by natural
means; nor is it at all the less a judgement for its being under the conduct of
human causes and effects; for, as the Divine Power has formed the whole scheme
of nature and maintains nature in its course, so the same Power thinks fit to
let His own acting's with men, whether of mercy or judgement, to go on in the
ordinary course of natural causes; and He is pleased to act by those natural
causes as the ordinary means, excepting and reserving to Himself nevertheless a
power to act in a supernatural way when He sees occasion. Now 'tis evident that
in the case of an infection there is no apparent extraordinary occasion for
supernatural operation, but the ordinary course of things appears sufficiently
armed, and made capable of all the effects that Heaven usually directs by a
contagion. Among these causes and effects, this of the secret conveyance of
infection, imperceptible and unavoidable, is more than enough to execute the
fierceness of Divine vengeance, without putting it upon supernatural and
miracle.
The acute penetrating nature of the disease itself was such,
and the infection was received so imperceptibly, that the most exact caution
could not secure us while in the place. But I must be allowed to believe—and I
have so many examples fresh in my memory to convince me of it, that I think
none can resist their evidence—I say, I must be allowed to believe that no one
in this whole nation ever received the sickness or infection but who received
it in the ordinary way of infection from somebody, or the clothes or touch or
stench of somebody that was infected before.
The manner of its coming first to London proves this also,
viz., by goods brought over from Holland, and brought thither from the Levant;
the first breaking of it out in a house in Long Acre where those goods were
carried and first opened; its spreading from that house to other houses by the
visible unwary conversing with those who were sick; and the infecting the
parish officers who were employed about the persons dead, and the like. These
are known authorities for this great foundation point—that it went on and
proceeded from person to person and from house to house, and not otherwise. In
the first house that was infected there died four persons. A neighbor, hearing
the mistress of the first house was sick, went to visit her, and went home and
gave the distemper to her family, and died, and all her household. A minister,
called to pray with the first sick person in the second house, was said to
sicken immediately and die with several more in his house. Then the physicians
began to consider, for they did not at first dream of a general contagion. But
the physicians being sent to inspect the bodies, they assured the people that
it was neither more or less than the plague, with all its terrifying particulars,
and that it threatened an universal infection, so many people having already
conversed with the sick or distempered, and having, as might be supposed,
received infection from them, that it would be impossible to put a stop to it.
Here the opinion of the physicians agreed with my
observation afterwards, namely, that the danger was spreading insensibly, for
the sick could infect none but those that came within reach of the sick person;
but that one man who may have really received the infection and knows it not,
but goes abroad and about as a sound person, may give the plague to a thousand
people, and they to greater numbers in proportion, and neither the person
giving the infection or the persons receiving it know anything of it, and
perhaps not feel the effects of it for several days after.
For example, many persons in the time of this visitation
never perceived that they were infected till they found to their unspeakable
surprise, the tokens come out upon them; after which they seldom lived six
hours; for those spots they called the tokens were really gangrene spots, or
mortified flesh in small knobs as broad as a little silver penny, and hard as a
piece of callus or horn; so that, when the disease was come up to that length,
there was nothing could follow but certain death; and yet, as I said, they knew
nothing of their being infected, nor found themselves so much as out of order,
till those mortal marks were upon them. But everybody must allow that they were
infected in a high degree before, and must have been so some time, and
consequently their breath, their sweat, their very clothes, were contagious for
many days before. This occasioned a vast variety of cases which physicians
would have much more opportunity to remember than I; but some came within the
compass of my observation or hearing, of which I shall name a few.
A certain citizen who had lived safe and untouched till the
month of September, when the weight of the distemper lay more in the city than
it had done before, was mighty cheerful, and something too bold (as I think it
was) in his talk of how secure he was, how cautious he had been, and how he had
never come near any sick body. Says another citizen, a neighbor of his, to him
one day, 'Do not be too confident, Mr.—; it is hard to say who is sick and who
is well, for we see men alive and well to outward appearance one hour, and dead
the next.' 'That is true', says the first man, for he was not a man
presumptuously secure, but had escaped a long while—and men, as I said above,
especially in the city began to be over-easy upon that score. 'That is true,'
says he; 'I do not think myself secure, but I hope I have not been in company
with any person that there has been any danger in.' 'No?' says his neighbor.
'Was not you at the Bull Head Tavern in Gracechurch Street with Mr.—the night
before last?' 'Yes,' says the first, 'I was but there was nobody there that we
had any reason to think dangerous.' Upon which his neighbor said no more, being
unwilling to surprise him; but this made him more inquisitive, and as his neighbor
appeared backward, he was the more impatient, and in a kind of warmth says he
aloud, 'Why, he is not dead, is he?' Upon which his neighbor still was silent,
but cast up his eyes and said something to himself; at which the first citizen
turned pale, and said no more but this, 'Then I am a dead man too', and went
home immediately and sent for a neighboring apothecary to give him something
preventive, for he had not yet found himself ill; but the apothecary, opening
his breast, fetched a sigh, and said no more but this, 'Look up to God'; and
the man died in a few hours.
Now let any man judge from a case like this if it is
possible for the regulations of magistrates, either by shutting up the sick or
removing them, to stop an infection which spreads itself from man to man even
while they are perfectly well and insensible of its approach, and may be so for
many days.
It may be proper to ask here how long it may be supposed men
might have the seeds of the contagion in them before it discovered itself in
this fatal manner, and how long they might go about seemingly whole, and yet be
contagious to all those that came near them. I believe the most experienced
physicians cannot answer this question directly any more than I can; and
something an ordinary observer may take notice of, which may pass their observations.
The opinion of physicians abroad seems to be that it may lie dormant in the
spirits or in the blood-vessels a very considerable time. Why else do they
exact a quarantine of those who came into their harbors and ports from
suspected places? Forty days is, one would think, too long for nature to
struggle with such an enemy as this, and not conquer it or yield to it. But I
could not think, by my own observation, that they can be infected so as to be
contagious to others above fifteen or sixteen days at furthest; and on that
score it was, that when a house was shut up in the city and any one had died of
the plague, but nobody appeared to be ill in the family for sixteen or eighteen
days after, they were not so strict but that they would connive at their going
privately abroad; nor would people be much afraid of them afterward, but rather
think they were fortified the better, having not been vulnerable when the enemy
was in their own house; but we sometimes found it had lain much longer
concealed.
Upon the foot of all these observations I must say that
though Providence seemed to direct my conduct to be otherwise, yet it is my
opinion, and I must leave it as a prescription, viz., that the best physic
against the plague is to run away from it. I know people encourage themselves
by saying God is able to keep us in the midst of danger, and able to overtake
us when we think ourselves out of danger; and this kept thousands in the town
whose carcasses went into the great pits by cartloads, and who, if they had fled
from the danger, had, I believe, been safe from the disaster; at least 'tis
probable they had been safe.
And were this very fundamental only duly considered by the
people on any future occasion of this or the like nature, I am persuaded it
would put them upon quite different measures for managing the people from those
that they took in 1665, or than any that have been taken abroad that I have
heard of. In a word, they would consider of separating the people into smaller
bodies, and removing them in time farther from one another—and not let such a
contagion as this, which is indeed chiefly dangerous to collected bodies of
people, find a million of people in a body together, as was very near the case
before, and would certainly be the case if it should ever appear again.
The plague, like a great fire, if a few houses only are
contiguous where it happens, can only burn a few houses; or if it begins in a
single, or, as we call it, a lone house, can only burn that lone house where it
begins. But if it begins in a close-built town or city and gets a head, there
its fury increases: it rages over the whole place and consumes all it can
reach.
I could propose many schemes on the foot of which the government
of this city, if ever they should be under the apprehensions of such another
enemy (God forbid they should), might ease themselves of the greatest part of
the dangerous people that belong to them; I mean such as the begging, starving,
laboring poor, and among them chiefly those who, in case of a siege, are called
the useless mouths; who being then prudently and to their own advantage
disposed of, and the wealthy inhabitants disposing of themselves and of their
servants and children, the city and its adjacent parts would be so effectually
evacuated that there would not be above a tenth part of its people left
together for the disease to take hold upon. But suppose them to be a fifth
part, and that two hundred and fifty thousand people were left: and if it did
seize upon them, they would, by their living so much at large, be much better
prepared to defend themselves against the infection, and be less liable to the
effects of it than if the same number of people lived close together in one
smaller city such as Dublin or Amsterdam or the like.
It is true hundreds, yea, thousands of families fled away at
this last plague, but then of them, many fled too late, and not only died in
their flight, but carried the distemper with them into the countries where they
went and infected those whom they went among for safety; which confounded the
thing, and made that be a propagation of the distemper which was the best means
to prevent it; and this too is an evidence of it, and brings me back to what I
only hinted at before, but must speak more fully to here, namely, that men went
about apparently well many days after they had the taint of the disease in
their vitals, and after their spirits were so seized as that they could never
escape it, and that all the while they did so they were dangerous to others; I
say, this proves that so it was; for such people infected the very towns they
went through, as well as the families they went among; and it was by that means
that almost all the great towns in England had the distemper among them, more
or less, and always they would tell you such a Londoner or such a Londoner
brought it down.
It must not be omitted that when I speak of those people who
were really thus dangerous, I suppose them to be utterly ignorant of their own
conditions; for if they really knew their circumstances to be such as indeed
they were, they must have been a kind of willful murderers if they would have
gone abroad among healthy people—and it would have verified indeed the
suggestion which I mentioned above, and which I thought seemed untrue: viz.,
that the infected people were utterly careless as to giving the infection to
others, and rather forward to do it than not; and I believe it was partly from
this very thing that they raised that suggestion, which I hope was not really
true in fact.
I confess no case is enough to prove a general, but I could
name several people within the knowledge of some of their neighbors and
families yet living who showed the contrary to an extreme. One man, a master of
a family in my neighborhood, having had the distemper, he thought he had it
given him by a poor workman whom he employed, and whom he went to his house to
see, or went for some work that he wanted to have finished; and he had some
apprehensions even while he was at the poor workman's door, but did not discover
it fully; but the next day it discovered itself, and he was taken very in, upon
which he immediately caused himself to be carried into an outbuilding which he
had in his yard, and where there was a chamber over a workhouse (the man being
a brazier). Here he lay, and here he died, and would be tended by none of his neighbors,
but by a nurse from abroad; and would not suffer his wife, nor children, nor
servants to come up into the room, lest they should be infected—but sent them
his blessing and prayers for them by the nurse, who spoke it to them at a
distance, and all this for fear of giving them the distemper; and without which
he knew, as they were kept up, they could not have it.
And here I must observe also that the plague, as I suppose
all distempers do, operated in a different manner on differing constitutions;
some were immediately overwhelmed with it, and it came to violent fevers, vomiting,
insufferable headaches, pains in the back, and so up to ravings and raging with
those pains; others with swellings and tumors in the neck or groin, or armpits,
which till they could be broke put them into insufferable agonies and torment;
while others, as I have observed, were silently infected, the fever preying
upon their spirits insensibly, and they seeing little of it till they fell into
swooning, and fainting's, and death without pain. I am not physician enough to
enter into the particular reasons and manner of these differing effects of one
and the same distemper, and of its differing operation in several bodies; nor
is it my business here to record the observations which I really made, because
the doctors themselves have done that part much more effectually than I can do,
and because my opinion may in some things differ from theirs. I am only
relating what I know, or have heard, or believe of the particular cases, and
what fell within the compass of my view, and the different nature of the
infection as it appeared in the particular cases which I have related; but this
may be added too: that though the former sort of those cases, namely, those
openly visited, were the worst for themselves as to pain—I mean those that had
such fevers, vomiting, headaches, pains, and swellings, because they died in
such a dreadful manner—yet the latter had the worst state of the disease; for
in the former they frequently recovered, especially if the swellings broke; but
the latter was inevitable death; no cure, no help, could be possible, nothing
could follow but death. And it was worse also to others, because, as above, it
secretly and unperceived by others or by themselves, communicated death to
those they conversed with, the penetrating poison insinuating itself into their
blood in a manner which it is impossible to describe, or indeed conceive.
This infecting and being infected without so much as its
being known to either person is evident from two sorts of cases which
frequently happened at that time; and there is hardly anybody living who was in
London during the infection but must have known several of the cases of both
sorts.
(1) Fathers and mothers have gone about as if they had been
well, and have believed themselves to be so, till they have insensibly infected
and been the destruction of their whole families, which they would have been
far from doing if they had the least apprehensions of their being unsound and
dangerous themselves. A family, whose story I have heard, was thus infected by
the father; and the distemper began to appear upon some of them even before he
found it upon himself. But searching more narrowly, it appeared he had been
affected some time; and as soon as he found that his family had been poisoned
by himself he went distracted, and would have laid violent hands upon himself,
but was kept from that by those who looked to him, and in a few days died.
(2) The other particular is, that many people having been
well to the best of their own judgement, or by the best observation which they
could make of themselves for several days, and only finding a decay of
appetite, or a light sickness upon their stomachs; nay, some whose appetite has
been strong, and even craving, and only a light pain in their heads, have sent
for physicians to know what ailed them, and have been found, to their great
surprise, at the brink of death: the tokens upon them, or the plague grown up
to an incurable height.
It was very sad to reflect how such a person as this last
mentioned above had been a walking destroyer perhaps for a week or a fortnight
before that; how he had ruined those that he would have hazarded his life to save,
and had been breathing death upon them, even perhaps in his tender kissing and embracing's
of his own children. Yet thus certainly it was, and often has been, and I could
give many cases where it has been so. If then the blow is thus insensibly
striking—if the arrow flies thus unseen, and cannot be discovered—to what
purpose are all the schemes for shutting up or removing the sick people? Those
schemes cannot take place but upon those that appear to be sick, or to be
infected; whereas there are among them at the same time thousands of people who
seem to be well, but are all that while carrying death with them into all
companies which they come into.
This frequently puzzled our physicians, and especially the
apothecaries and surgeons, who knew not how to discover the sick from the
sound; they all allowed that it was really so, that many people had the plague
in their very blood, and preying upon their spirits, and were in themselves but
walking putrefied carcasses whose breath was infectious and their sweat poison,
and yet were as well to look on as other people, and even knew it not
themselves; I say, they all allowed that it was really true in fact, but they
knew not how to propose a discovery.
My friend Dr Heath was of opinion that it might be known by
the smell of their breath; but then, as he said, who durst smell to that breath
for his information? since, to know it, he must draw the stench of the plague
up into his own brain, in order to distinguish the smell! I have heard it was
the opinion of others that it might be distinguished by the party's breathing
upon a piece of glass, where, the breath condensing, there might living
creatures be seen by a microscope, of strange, monstrous, and frightful shapes,
such as dragons, snakes, serpents, and devils, horrible to behold. But this I
very much question the truth of, and we had no microscopes at that time, as I
remember, to make the experiment with.
It was the opinion also of another learned man, that the
breath of such a person would poison and instantly kill a bird; not only a
small bird, but even a cock or hen, and that, if it did not immediately kill
the latter, it would cause them to be ropy, as they call it; particularly that
if they had laid any eggs at any time, they would be all rotten. But those are
opinions which I never found supported by any experiments, or heard of others
that had seen it; so I leave them as I find them; only with this remark,
namely, that I think the probabilities are very strong for them.
Some have proposed that such persons should breathe hard
upon warm water, and that they would leave an unusual scum upon it, or upon
several other things, especially such as are of a glutinous substance and are
apt to receive a scum and support it.
But from the whole I found that the nature of this contagion
was such that it was impossible to discover it at all, or to prevent its
spreading from one to another by any human skill.
Here was indeed one difficulty which I could never thoroughly
get over to this time, and which there is but one way of answering that I know
of, and it is this, viz., the first person that died of the plague was on
December 20, or thereabouts, 1664, and in or about long Acre; whence the first
person had the infection was generally said to be from a parcel of silks
imported from Holland, and first opened in that house.
But after this we heard no more of any person dying of the
plague, or of the distemper being in that place, till the 9th of February,
which was about seven weeks after, and then one more was buried out of the same
house. Then it was hushed, and we were perfectly easy as to the public for a
great while; for there were no more entered in the weekly bill to be dead of
the plague till the 22nd of April, when there was two more buried, not out of
the same house, but out of the same street; and, as near as I can remember, it
was out of the next house to the first. This was nine weeks asunder, and after
this we had no more till a fortnight, and then it broke out in several streets
and spread every way. Now the question seems to lie thus: Where lay the seeds
of the infection all this while? How came it to stop so long, and not stop any
longer? Either the distemper did not come immediately by contagion from body to
body, or, if it did, then a body may be capable to continue infected without
the disease discovering itself many days, nay, weeks together; even not a
quarantine of days only, but zooxanthine; not only forty days, but sixty days
or longer.
It is true there was, as I observed at first, and is well
known to many yet living, a very cold winter and a long frost which continued
three months; and this, the doctors say, might check the infection; but then the
learned must allow me to say that if, according to their notion, the disease
was (as I may say) only frozen up, it would like a frozen river have returned
to its usual force and current when it thawed—whereas the principal recess of
this infection, which was from February to April, was after the frost was
broken and the weather mild and warm.
But there is another way of solving all this difficulty,
which I think my own remembrance of the thing will supply; and that is, the
fact is not granted—namely, that there died none in those long intervals, viz.,
from the 20th of December to the 9th of February, and from thence to the 22nd
of April. The weekly bills are the only evidence on the other side, and those
bills were not of credit enough, at least with me, to support an hypothesis or
determine a question of such importance as this; for it was our received
opinion at that time, and I believe upon very good grounds, that the fraud lay
in the parish officers, searchers, and persons appointed to give account of the
dead, and what diseases they died of; and as people were very loth at first to
have the neighbors believe their houses were infected, so they gave money to
procure, or otherwise procured, the dead persons to be returned as dying of
other distempers; and this I know was practiced afterwards in many places, I
believe I might say in all places where the distemper came, as will be seen by
the vast increase of the numbers placed in the weekly bills under other
articles of diseases during the time of the infection. For example, in the
months of July and August, when the plague was coming on to its highest pitch,
it was very ordinary to have from a thousand to twelve hundred, nay, to almost
fifteen hundred a week of other distempers. Not that the numbers of those
distempers were really increased to such a degree, but the great number of
families and houses where really the infection was, obtained the favor to have
their dead be returned of other distempers, to prevent the shutting up their
houses. For example: —
Dead of other
diseases beside the plague—
- From the 18th July to the 25th 942
- " 25th July " 1st August 1004
- " 1st August " 8th 1213
-
" 8th " 15th 1439
- " 15th " 22nd 1331
- " 22nd " 29th 1394
- " 29th " 5th September 1264
- " 5th September to the 12th 1056
- " 12th " 19th 1132
- " 19th " 26th 927
Now it was not doubted but the greatest part of these, or a
great part of them, were dead of the plague, but the officers were prevailed
with to return them as above, and the numbers of some particular articles of
distempers discovered is as follows:—
- Aug.
Aug. Aug. Aug.
Aug. Sept. Sept.
Sept.
- 1 8
15 22 29
5 12 19
- to 8
to 15 to 22 to 29 to Sept.5 to 12 to 19 to 26
Fever 314
353 348 383
364 332 309
268
Spotted 174
190 166 165
157 97
101 65
Fever
Surfeit 85
87 74 99
68 45 49
36
Teeth 90
113 111 133
138 128 121
112
- —-
—— —— ——
—— —— ——
——
- 663
743 699 780
727 602 580
481
There were several other articles which bore a proportion to
these, and which, it is easy to perceive, were increased on the same account,
as aged, consumptions, vomiting, impostures, gripes, and the like, many of
which were not doubted to be infected people; but as it was of the utmost
consequence to families not to be known to be infected, if it was possible to
avoid it, so they took all the measures they could to have it not believed, and
if any died in their houses, to get them returned to the examiners, and by the
searchers, as having died of other distempers.
This, I say, will account for the long interval which, as I
have said, was between the dying of the first persons that were returned in the
bill to be dead of the plague and the time when the distemper spread openly and
could not be concealed.
Besides, the weekly bills themselves at that time evidently
discover the truth; for, while there was no mention of the plague, and no
increase after it had been mentioned, yet it was apparent that there was an
increase of those distempers which bordered nearest upon it; for example, there
were eight, twelve, seventeen of the spotted fever in a week, when there were
none, or but very few, of the plague; whereas before, one, three, or four were
the ordinary weekly numbers of that distemper. Likewise, as I observed before,
the burials increased weekly in that particular parish and the parishes
adjacent more than in any other parish, although there were none set down of
the plague; all which tells us, that the infection was handed on, and the
succession of the distemper really preserved, though it seemed to us at that
time to be ceased, and to come again in a manner surprising.
It might be, also, that the infection might remain in other
parts of the same parcel of goods which at first it came in, and which might
not be perhaps opened, or at least not fully, or in the clothes of the first
infected person; for I cannot think that anybody could be seized with the
contagion in a fatal and mortal degree for nine weeks together, and support his
state of health so well as even not to discover it to themselves; yet if it
were so, the argument is the stronger in favor of what I am saying: namely,
that the infection is retained in bodies apparently well, and conveyed from
them to those they converse with, while it is known to neither the one nor the
other.
Great were the confusions at that time upon this very
account, and when people began to be convinced that the infection was received
in this surprising manner from persons apparently well, they began to be
exceeding shy and jealous of every one that came near them. Once, on a public
day, whether a Sabbath-day or not I do not remember, in Landgate Church, in a
pew full of people, on a sudden one fancied she smelt an ill smell. Immediately
she fancies the plague was in the pew, whispers her notion or suspicion to the
next, then rises and goes out of the pew. It immediately took with the next,
and so to them all; and every one of them, and of the two or three adjoining
pews, got up and went out of the church, nobody knowing what it was offended
them, or from whom.
This immediately filled everybody's mouths with one
preparation or other, such as the old woman directed, and some perhaps as
physicians directed, in order to prevent infection by the breath of others;
insomuch that if we came to go into a church when it was anything full of
people, there would be such a mixture of smells at the entrance that it was
much more strong, though perhaps not so wholesome, than if you were going into
an apothecary's or druggist's shop. In a word, the whole church was like a
smelling-bottle; in one corner it was all perfumes; in another, aromatics, balsamic,
and variety of drugs and herbs; in another, salts and spirits, as everyone was
furnished for their own preservation. Yet I observed that after people were
possessed, as I have said, with the belief, or rather assurance, of the
infection being thus carried on by persons apparently in health, the churches
and meeting-houses were much thinner of people than at other times before that
they used to be. For this is to be said of the people of London, that during
the whole time of the pestilence the churches or meetings were never wholly shut
up, nor did the people decline coming out to the public worship of God, except
only in some parishes when the violence of the distemper was more particularly
in that parish at that time, and even then no longer than it continued to be
so.
Indeed nothing was more strange than to see with what
courage the people went to the public service of God, even at that time when
they were afraid to stir out of their own houses upon any other occasion; this,
I mean, before the time of desperation, which I have mentioned already. This
was a proof of the exceeding patulousness of the city at the time of the
infection, notwithstanding the great numbers that were gone into the country at
the first alarm, and that fled out into the forests and woods when they were
further terrified with the extraordinary increase of it. For when we came to
see the crowds and throngs of people which appeared on the Sabbath-days at the
churches, and especially in those parts of the town where the plague was
abated, or where it was not yet come to its height, it was amazing. But of this
I shall speak again presently. I return in the meantime to the article of
infecting one another at first, before people came to right notions of the
infection, and of infecting one another. People were only shy of those that
were sick, a man with a cap upon his head, or with clothes round his neck,
which was the case of those that had swellings there. Such was indeed
frightful; but when we saw a gentleman dressed, with his band on and his gloves
in his hand, his hat upon his head, and his hair combed, of such we had not the
least apprehensions, and people conversed a great while freely, especially with
their neighbors and such as they knew. But when the physicians assured us that
the danger was as well from the sound (that is, the seemingly sound) as the
sick, and that those people who thought themselves entirely free were
oftentimes the most fatal, and that it came to be generally understood that
people were sensible of it, and of the reason of it; then, I say, they began to
be jealous of everybody, and a vast number of people locked themselves up, so
as not to come abroad into any company at all, nor suffer any that had been
abroad in promiscuous company to come into their houses, or near them—at least
not so near them as to be within the reach of their breath or of any smell from
them; and when they were obliged to converse at a distance with strangers, they
would always have preservatives in their mouths and about their clothes to
repel and keep off the infection.
It must be acknowledged that when people began to use these
cautions they were less exposed to danger, and the infection did not break into
such houses so furiously as it did into others before; and thousands of
families were preserved (speaking with due reserve to the direction of Divine
Providence) by that means.
But it was impossible to beat anything into the heads of the
poor. They went on with the usual impetuosity of their tempers, full of
outcries and lamentations when taken, but madly careless of themselves,
foolhardy and obstinate, while they were well. Where they could get employment
they pushed into any kind of business, the most dangerous and the most liable
to infection; and if they were spoken to, their answer would be, 'I must trust
to God for that; if I am taken, then I am provided for, and there is an end of
me', and the like. Or thus, 'Why, what must I do? I can't starve. I had as good
have the plague as perish for want. I have no work; what could I do? I must do
this or beg.' Suppose it was burying the dead, or attending the sick, or
watching infected houses, which were all terrible hazards; but their tale was
generally the same. It is true, necessity was a very justifiable, warrantable
plea, and nothing could be better; but their way of talk was much the same
where the necessities were not the same. This adventurous conduct of the poor
was that which brought the plague among them in a most furious manner; and
this, joined to the distress of their circumstances when taken, was the reason
why they died so by heaps; for I cannot say I could observe one jot of better
husbandry among them, I mean the laboring poor, while they were all well and
getting money than there was before, but as lavish, as extravagant, and as
thoughtless for tomorrow as ever; so that when they came to be taken sick they
were immediately in the utmost distress, as well for want as for sickness, as
well for lack of food as lack of health.
This misery of the poor I had many occasions to be an
eyewitness of, and sometimes also of the charitable assistance that some pious
people daily gave to such, sending them relief and supplies both of food,
physic, and other help, as they found they wanted; and indeed it is a debt of
justice due to the temper of the people of that day to take notice here, that
not only great sums, very great sums of money were charitably sent to the Lord
Mayor and aldermen for the assistance and support of the poor distempered
people, but abundance of private people daily distributed large sums of money
for their relief, and sent people about to inquire into the condition of
particular distressed and visited families, and relieved them; nay, some pious
ladies were so transported with zeal in so good a work, and so confident in the
protection of Providence in discharge of the great duty of charity, that they
went about in person distributing alms to the poor, and even visiting poor
families, though sick and infected, in their very houses, appointing nurses to
attend those that wanted attending, and ordering apothecaries and surgeons, the
first to supply them with drugs or plasters, and such things as they wanted;
and the last to lance and dress the swellings and tumors, where such were
wanting; giving their blessing to the poor in substantial relief to them, as
well as hearty prayers for them.
I will not undertake to say, as some do, that none of those
charitable people were suffered to fall under the calamity itself; but this I
may say, that I never knew any one of them that miscarried, which I mention for
the encouragement of others in case of the like distress; and doubtless, if
they that give to the poor lend to the Lord, and He will repay them, those that
hazard their lives to give to the poor, and to comfort and assist the poor in
such a misery as this, may hope to be protected in the work.
Nor was this charity so extraordinary eminent only in a few,
but (for I cannot lightly quit this point) the charity of the rich, as well in
the city and suburbs as from the country, was so great that, in a word, a prodigious
number of people who must otherwise inevitably have perished for want as well
as sickness were supported and subsisted by it; and though I could never, nor I
believe anyone else, come to a full knowledge of what was so contributed, yet I
do believe that, as I heard one say that was a critical observer of that part,
there was not only many thousand pounds contributed, but many hundred thousand
pounds, to the relief of the poor of this distressed, afflicted city; nay, one
man affirmed to me that he could reckon up above one hundred thousand pounds a
week, which was distributed by the churchwardens at the several parish vestries
by the Lord Mayor and aldermen in the several wards and precincts, and by the
particular direction of the court and of the justices respectively in the parts
where they resided, over and above the private charity distributed by pious
bands in the manner I speak of; and this continued for many weeks together.
I confess this is a very great sum; but if it be true that
there was distributed in the parish of Cripple gate only, 17,800 in one week to
the relief of the poor, as I heard reported, and which I really believe was
true, the other may not be improbable.
It was doubtless to be reckoned among the many signal good
providences which attended this great city, and of which there were many other
worth recording,—I say, this was a very remarkable one, that it pleased God
thus to move the hearts of the people in all parts of the kingdom so cheerfully
to contribute to the relief and support of the poor at London, the good
consequences of which were felt many ways, and particularly in preserving the
lives and recovering the health of so many thousands, and keeping so many
thousands of families from perishing and starving.
And now I am talking of the merciful disposition of
Providence in this time of calamity, I cannot but mention again, though I have
spoken several times of it already on other accounts, I mean that of the
progression of the distemper; how it began at one end of the town, and
proceeded gradually and slowly from one part to another, and like a dark cloud
that passes over our heads, which, as it thickens and overcasts the air at one
end, clears up at the other end; so, while the plague went on raging from west
to east, as it went forwards east, it abated in the west, by which means those
parts of the town which were not seized, or who were left, and where it had
spent its fury, were (as it were) spared to help and assist the other; whereas,
had the distemper spread itself over the whole city and suburbs, at once,
raging in all places alike, as it has done since in some places abroad, the
whole body of the people must have been overwhelmed, and there would have died
twenty thousand a day, as they say there did at Naples; nor would the people
have been able to have helped or assisted one another.
For it must be observed that where the plague was in its
full force, there indeed the people were very miserable, and the consternation
was inexpressible. But a little before it reached even to that place, or
presently after it was gone, they were quite another sort of people; and I
cannot but acknowledge that there was too much of that common temper of mankind
to be found among us all at that time, namely, to forget the deliverance when the
danger is past. But I shall come to speak of that part again.
It must not be forgot here to take some notice of the state
of trade during the time of this common calamity, and this with respect to
foreign trade, as also to our home trade.
As to foreign trade, there needs little to be said. The
trading nations of Europe were all afraid of us; no port of France, or Holland,
or Spain, or Italy would admit our ships or correspond with us; indeed we stood
on ill terms with the Dutch, and were in a furious war with them, but though in
a bad condition to fight abroad, who had such dreadful enemies to struggle with
at home.
Our merchants were accordingly at a full stop; their ships
could go nowhere—that is to say, to no place abroad; their manufactures and merchandise—that
is to say, of our growth—would not be touched abroad. They were as much afraid
of our goods as they were of our people; and indeed they had reason: for our woolen
manufactures are as retentive of infection as human bodies, and if packed up by
persons infected, would receive the infection and be as dangerous to touch as a
man would be that was infected; and therefore, when any English vessel arrived
in foreign countries, if they did take the goods on shore, they always caused
the bales to be opened and aired in places appointed for that purpose. But from
London they would not suffer them to come into port, much less to unlade their
goods, upon any terms whatever, and this strictness was especially used with
them in Spain and Italy. In Turkey and the islands of the Arches indeed, as
they are called, as well those belonging to the Turks as to the Venetians, they
were not so very rigid. In the first there was no obstruction at all; and four
ships which were then in the river loading for Italy—that is, for Leghorn and
Naples—being denied product, as they call it, went on to Turkey, and were
freely admitted to unlade their cargo without any difficulty; only that when
they arrived there, some of their cargo was not fit for sale in that country;
and other parts of it being consigned to merchants at Leghorn, the captains of
the ships had no right nor any orders to dispose of the goods; so that great
inconveniences followed to the merchants. But this was nothing but what the
necessity of affairs required, and the merchants at Leghorn and Naples having
notice given them, sent again from thence to take care of the effects which
were particularly consigned to those ports, and to bring back in other ships
such as were improper for the markets at Smyrna and Sanderson.
The inconveniences in Spain and Portugal were still greater,
for they would by no means suffer our ships, especially those from London, to
come into any of their ports, much less to unlade. There was a report that one
of our ships having by stealth delivered her cargo, among which was some bales
of English cloth, cotton, kerseys, and such-like goods, the Spaniards caused
all the goods to be burned, and punished the men with death who were concerned
in carrying them on shore. This, I believe, was in part true, though I do not
affirm it; but it is not at all unlikely, seeing the danger was very great, the
infection being so violent in London.
I heard likewise that the plague was carried into those
countries by some of our ships, and particularly to the port of Faro in the
kingdom of Algarve, belonging to the King of Portugal, and that several persons
died of it there; but it was not confirmed.
On the other hand, though the Spaniards and Portuguese were
so shy of us, it is most certain that the plague (as has been said) keeping at
first much at that end of the town next Westminster, the merchandising part of
the town (such as the city and the water-side) was perfectly sound till at
least the beginning of July, and the ships in the river till the beginning of
August; for to the 1st of July there had died but seven within the whole city,
and but sixty within the liberties, but one in all the parishes of Stoney, Landgate,
and Whitechapel, and but two in the eight parishes of Southwark. But it was the
same thing abroad, for the bad news was gone over the whole world that the city
of London was infected with the plague, and there was no inquiring there how
the infection proceeded, or at which part of the town it was begun or was
reached to.
Besides, after it began to spread it increased so fast, and
the bills grew so high all on a sudden, that it was to no purpose to lessen the
report of it, or endeavor to make the people abroad think it better than it
was; the account which the weekly bills gave in was sufficient; and that there
died two thousand to three or four thousand a week was sufficient to alarm the
whole trading part of the world; and the following time, being so dreadful also
in the very city itself, put the whole world, I say, upon their guard against
it.
You may be sure, also, that the report of these things lost
nothing in the carriage. The plague was itself very terrible, and the distress
of the people very great, as you may observe of what I have said. But the rumor
was infinitely greater, and it must not be wondered that our friends abroad (as
my brother's correspondents in particular were told there, namely, in Portugal
and Italy, where he chiefly traded) [said] that in London there died twenty
thousand in a week; that the dead bodies lay unburied by heaps; that the living
were not sufficient to bury the dead or the sound to look after the sick; that
all the kingdom was infected likewise, so that it was an universal malady such
as was never heard of in those parts of the world; and they could hardly
believe us when we gave them an account how things really were, and how there
was not above one-tenth part of the people dead; that there was 500,000, left
that lived all the time in the town; that now the people began to walk the streets
again, and those who were fled to return, there was no miss of the usual throng
of people in the streets, except as every family might miss their relations and
neighbors, and the like. I say they could not believe these things; and if
inquiry were now to be made in Naples, or in other cities on the coast of
Italy, they would tell you that there was a dreadful infection in London so
many years ago, in which, as above, there died twenty thousand in a week,
&c., just as we have had it reported in London that there was a plague in
the city of Naples in the year 1656, in which there died 20,000 people in a
day, of which I have had very good satisfaction that it was utterly false.
But these extravagant reports were very prejudicial to our
trade, as well as unjust and injurious in themselves, for it was a long time
after the plague was quite over before our trade could recover itself in those
parts of the world; and the Flemings and Dutch (but especially the last) made
very great advantages of it, having all the market to themselves, and even
buying our manufactures in several parts of England where the plague was not,
and carrying them to Holland and Flanders, and from thence transporting them to
Spain and to Italy as if they had been of their own making.
But they were detected sometimes and punished: that is to
say, their goods confiscated and ships also; for if it was true that our
manufactures as well as our people were infected, and that it was dangerous to
touch or to open and receive the smell of them, then those people ran the
hazard by that clandestine trade not only of carrying the contagion into their
own country, but also of infecting the nations to whom they traded with those
goods; which, considering how many lives might be lost in consequence of such
an action, must be a trade that no men of conscience could suffer themselves to
be concerned in.
I do not take upon me to say that any harm was done, I mean
of that kind, by those people. But I doubt I need not make any such proviso in
the case of our own country; for either by our people of London, or by the
commerce which made their conversing with all sorts of people in every country
and of every considerable town necessary, I say, by this means the plague was
first or last spread all over the kingdom, as well in London as in all the
cities and great towns, especially in the trading manufacturing towns and
seaports; so that, first or last, all the considerable places in England were
visited more or less, and the kingdom of Ireland in some places, but not so
universally. How it fared with the people in Scotland I had no opportunity to
inquire.
It is to be observed that while the plague continued so
violent in London, the outposts, as they are called, enjoyed a very great
trade, especially to the adjacent countries and to our own plantations. For
example, the towns of Colchester, Yarmouth, and Hull, on that side of England,
exported to Holland and Hamburg the manufactures of the adjacent countries for
several months after the trade with London was, as it were, entirely shut up;
likewise the cities of Bristol and Exeter, with the port of Plymouth, had the
like advantage to Spain, to the Canaries, to Guinea, and to the West Indies,
and particularly to Ireland; but as the plague spread itself every way after it
had been in London to such a degree as it was in August and September, so all
or most of those cities and towns were infected first or last; and then trade
was, as it were, under a general embargo or at a full stop—as I shall observe
further when I speak of our home trade.
One thing, however, must be observed: that as to ships
coming in from abroad (as many, you may be sure, did) some who were out in all
parts of the world a considerable while before, and some who when they went out
knew nothing of an infection, or at least of one so terrible—these came up the
river boldly, and delivered their cargoes as they were obliged to do, except
just in the two months of August and September, when the weight of the
infection lying, as I may say, all below Bridge, nobody durst appear in
business for a while. But as this continued but for a few weeks, the
homeward-bound ships, especially such whose cargoes were not liable to spoil,
came to an anchor for a time short of the Pool,* or fresh-water part of the
river, even as low as the river Medway, where several of them ran in; and
others lay at the Nora, and in the Hope below Gravesend. So that by the latter
end of October there was a very great fleet of homeward-bound ships to come up,
such as the like had not been known for many years.
* That part of
the river where the ships lie up when they
come home is
called the Pool, and takes in all the river on
both sides of the
water, from the Tower to Cuckold's Point
and Limehouse.
[Footnote in the original.]
Two particular trades were carried on by water-carriage all
the while of the infection, and that with little or no interruption, very much
to the advantage and comfort of the poor distressed people of the city: and
those were the coasting trade for corn and the Newcastle trade for coals.
The first of these was particularly carried on by small
vessels from the port of Hull and other places on the Humber, by which great
quantities of corn were brought in from Yorkshire and Lincolnshire. The other
part of this corn-trade was from Lynn, in Norfolk, from Wells and Burnham, and
from Yarmouth, all in the same county; and the third branch was from the river
Medway, and from Milton, Fever sham, Margate, and Sandwich, and all the other
little places and ports round the coast of Kent and Essex.
There was also a very good trade from the coast of Suffolk
with corn, butter, and cheese; these vessels kept a constant course of trade,
and without interruption came up to that market known still by the name of Bear
Key, where they supplied the city plentifully with corn when land-carriage
began to fail, and when the people began to be sick of coming from many places
in the country.
This also was much of it owing to the prudence and conduct
of the Lord Mayor, who took such care to keep the masters and seamen from
danger when they came up, causing their corn to be bought off at any time they
wanted a market (which, however, was very seldom), and causing the corn-factors
immediately to unlade and deliver the vessels laden with corn, that they had
very little occasion to come out of their ships or vessels, the money being
always carried on board to them and put into a pail of vinegar before it was
carried.
The second trade was that of coals from Newcastle-upon-Tyne,
without which the city would have been greatly distressed; for not in the
streets only, but in private houses and families, great quantities of coals
were then burnt, even all the summer long and when the weather was hottest,
which was done by the advice of the physicians. Some indeed opposed it, and
insisted that to keep the houses and rooms hot was a means to propagate the
temper, which was a fermentation and heat already in the blood; that it was
known to spread and increase in hot weather and abate in cold; and therefore
they alleged that all contagious distempers are the worse for heat, because the
contagion was nourished and gained strength in hot weather, and was, as it
were, propagated in heat.
Others said they granted that heat in the climate might
propagate infection—as sultry, hot weather fills the air with vermin and
nourishes innumerable numbers and kinds of venomous creatures which breed in
our food, in the plants, and even in our bodies, by the very stench of which
infection may be propagated; also that heat in the air, or heat of weather, as
we ordinarily call it, makes bodies relax and faint, exhausts the spirits,
opens the pores, and makes us more apt to receive infection, or any evil influence,
be it from noxious pestilential vapors or any other thing in the air; but that
the heat of fire, and especially of coal fires kept in our houses, or near us,
had a quite different operation; the heat being not of the same kind, but quick
and fierce, tending not to nourish but to consume and dissipate all those
noxious fumes which the other kind of heat rather exhaled and stagnated than
separated and burnt up. Besides, it was alleged that the Sulphur us and nitrous
particles that are often found to be in the coal, with that bituminous
substance which burns, are all assisting to clear and purge the air, and render
it wholesome and safe to breathe in after the noxious particles, as above, are
dispersed and burnt up.
The latter opinion prevailed at that time, and, as I must
confess, I think with good reason; and the experience of the citizens confirmed
it, many houses which had constant fires kept in the rooms having never been
infected at all; and I must join my experience to it, for I found the keeping
good fires kept our rooms sweet and wholesome, and I do verily believe made our
whole family so, more than would otherwise have been.
But I return to the coals as a trade. It was with no little
difficulty that this trade was kept open, and particularly because, as we were
in an open war with the Dutch at that time, the Dutch capers at first took a
great many of our collier-ships, which made the rest cautious, and made them to
stay to come in fleets together. But after some time, the capers were either afraid
to take them, or their masters, the States, were afraid they should, and
forbade them, lest the plague should be among them, which made them fare the
better.
For the security of those northern traders, the coal-ships
were ordered by my Lord Mayor not to come up into the Pool above a certain
number at a time, and ordered lighters and other vessels such as the wood
mongers (that is, the wharf-keepers or coal-sellers) furnished, to go down and
take out the coals as low as Deptford and Greenwich, and some farther down.
Others delivered great quantities of coals in particular
places where the ships could come to the shore, as at Greenwich, Blackwell, and
other places, in vast heaps, as if to be kept for sale; but were then fetched
away after the ships which brought them were gone, so that the seamen had no
communication with the river-men, nor so much as came near one another.
Yet all this caution could not effectually prevent the
distemper getting among the colliery: that is to say among the ships, by which
a great many seamen died of it; and that which was still worse was, that they
carried it down to Ipswich and Yarmouth, to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and other
places on the coast—where, especially at Newcastle and at Sunderland, it
carried off a great number of people.
The making so many fires, as above, did indeed consume an
unusual quantity of coals; and that upon one or two stops of the ships coming
up, whether by contrary weather or by the interruption of enemies I do not
remember, but the price of coals was exceeding dear, even as high as 4 l. a
chalder; but it soon abated when the ships came in, and as afterwards they had
a freer passage, the price was very reasonable all the rest of that year.
The public fires which were made on these occasions, as I have
calculated it, must necessarily have cost the city about 200 chalders of coals
a week, if they had continued, which was indeed a very great quantity; but as
it was thought necessary, nothing was spared. However, as some of the
physicians cried them down, they were not kept alight above four or five days.
The fires were ordered thus: —
One at the Custom House, one at Billingsgate, one at Queenfish,
and one at the Three Cranes; one in Black friars, and one at the gate of
Bridewell; one at the corner of Leadenhall Street and Gracechurch; one at the
north and one at the south gate of the Royal Exchange; one at Guild Hall, and
one at Blackwell Hall gate; one at the Lord Mayor's door in St Helen's, one at
the west entrance into St Paul's, and one at the entrance into Bow Church. I do
not remember whether there was any at the city gates, but one at the Bridge-foot
there was, just by St Magnus Church.
I know some have quarreled since that at the experiment, and
said that there died the more people because of those fires; but I am persuaded
those that say so offer no evidence to prove it, neither can I believe it on
any account whatever.
It remains to give some account of the state of trade at
home in England during this dreadful time, and particularly as it relates to
the manufactures and the trade in the city. At the first breaking out of the
infection there was, as it is easy to suppose, a very great fright among the
people, and consequently a general stop of trade, except in provisions and
necessaries of life; and even in those things, as there was a vast number of
people fled and a very great number always sick, besides the number which died,
so there could not be above two-thirds, if above one-half, of the consumption
of provisions in the city as used to be.
Its pleased God to send a very plentiful year of corn and
fruit, but not of hay or grass—by which means bread was cheap, by reason of the
plenty of corn. Flesh was cheap, by reason of the scarcity of grass; but butter
and cheese were dear for the same reason, and hay in the market just beyond Whitechapel
Bars was sold at 4 pound per load. But that affected not the poor. There was a
most excessive plenty of all sorts of fruit, such as apples, pears, plums,
cherries, grapes, and they were the cheaper because of the want of people; but
this made the poor eat them to excess, and this brought them into fluxes,
griping of the guts, surfeits, and the like, which often precipitated them into
the plague.
But to come to matters of trade. First, foreign exportation
being stopped or at least very much interrupted and rendered difficult, a
general stop of all those manufactures followed of course which were usually
brought for exportation; and though sometimes merchants abroad were importunate
for goods, yet little was sent, the passages being so generally stopped that
the English ships would not be admitted, as is said already, into their port.
This put a stop to the manufactures that were for
exportation in most parts of England, except in some out-ports; and even that was
soon stopped, for they all had the plague in their turn. But though this was
felt all over England, yet, what was still worse, all intercourse of trade for
home consumption of manufactures, especially those which usually circulated
through the Londoner's hands, was stopped at once, the trade of the city being
stopped.
All kinds of handicrafts in the city, &c., tradesmen and
mechanics, were, as I have said before, out of employ; and this occasioned the
putting-off and dismissing an innumerable number of journeymen and workmen of
all sorts, seeing nothing was done relating to such trades but what might be
said to be absolutely necessary.
This caused the multitude of single people in London to be
unprovided for, as also families whose living depended upon the labor of the
heads of those families; I say, this reduced them to extreme misery; and I must
confess it is for the honor of the city of London, and will be for many ages,
as long as this is to be spoken of, that they were able to supply with
charitable provision the wants of so many thousands of those as afterwards fell
sick and were distressed: so that it may be safely averred that nobody perished
for want, at least that the magistrates had any notice given them of.
This stagnation of our manufacturing trade in the country
would have put the people there too much greater difficulties, but that the master-workmen,
clothiers and others, to the uttermost of their stocks and strength, kept on
making their goods to keep the poor at work, believing that soon as the
sickness should abate they would have a quick demand in proportion to the decay
of their trade at that time. But as none but those masters that were rich could
do this, and that many were poor and not able, the manufacturing trade in
England suffered greatly, and the poor were pinched all over England by the
calamity of the city of London only.
It is true that the next year made them full amends by
another terrible calamity upon the city; so that the city by one calamity
impoverished and weakened the country, and by another calamity, even terrible
too of its kind, enriched the country and made them again amends; for an
infinite quantity of household Stuff, wearing apparel, and other things,
besides whole warehouses filled with merchandise and manufactures such as come
from all parts of England, were consumed in the fire of London the next year
after this terrible visitation. It is incredible what a trade this made all
over the whole kingdom, to make good they want and to supply that loss; so
that, in short, all the manufacturing hands in the nation were set on work, and
were little enough for several years to supply the market and answer the
demands. All foreign markets also were empty of our goods by the stop which had
been occasioned by the plague, and before an open trade was allowed again; and
the prodigious demand at home falling in, joined to make a quick vent for all
sort of goods; so that there never was known such a trade all over England for
the time as was in the first seven years after the plague, and after the fire
of London.
It remains now that I should say something of the merciful
part of this terrible judgement. The last week in September, the plague being
come to its crisis, its fury began to assuage. I remember my friend Dr Heath,
coming to see me the week before, told me he was sure that the violence of it
would assuage in a few days; but when I saw the weekly bill of that week, which
was the highest of the whole year, being 8297 of all diseases, I upbraided him
with it, and asked him what he had made his judgement from. His answer,
however, was not so much to seek as I thought it would have been. 'Look you,'
says he, 'by the number which are at this time sick and infected, there should
have been twenty thousand dead the last week instead of eight thousand, if the
inveterate mortal contagion had been as it was two weeks ago; for then it
ordinarily killed in two or three days, now not under eight or ten; and then
not above one in five recovered, whereas I have observed that now not above two
in five miscarry. And, observe it from me, the next bill will decrease, and you
will see many more people recover than used to do; for though a vast multitude
are now everywhere infected, and as many every day fall sick, yet there will
not so many die as there did, for the malignity of the distemper is
abated';—adding that he began now to hope, nay, more than hope, that the
infection had passed its crisis and was going off; and accordingly so it was,
for the next week being, as I said, the last in September, the bill decreased
almost two thousand.
It is true the plague was still at a frightful height, and
the next bill was no less than 6460, and the next to that, 5720; but still my
friend's observation was just, and it did appear the people did recover faster
and more in number than they used to do; and indeed, if it had not been so,
what had been the condition of the city of London? For, according to my friend,
there were no fewer than 60,000 people at that time infected, whereof, as
above, 20,477 died, and near 40,000 recovered; whereas, had it been as it was
before, 50,000 of that number would very probably have died, if not more, and
50,000 more would have sickened; for, in a word, the whole mass of people began
to sicken, and it looked as if none would escape.
But this remark of my friend's appeared more evident in a
few weeks more, for the decrease went on, and another week in October it
decreased 1843, so that the number dead of the plague was but 2665; and the
next week it decreased 1413 more, and yet it was seen plainly that there was
abundance of people sick, nay, abundance more than ordinary, and abundance fell
sick every day but (as above) the malignity of the disease abated.
Such is the precipitant disposition of our people (whether
it is so or not all over the world, that's none of my particular business to
inquire), but I saw it apparently here, that as upon the first fright of the
infection they shunned one another, and fled from one another's houses and from
the city with an unaccountable and, as I thought, unnecessary fright, so now,
upon this notion spreading, viz., that the distemper was not so catching as
formerly, and that if it was catcher it was not so mortal, and seeing abundance
of people who really fell sick recover again daily, they took to such a
precipitant courage, and grew so entirely regardless of themselves and of the
infection, that they made no more of the plague than of an ordinary fever, nor
indeed so much. They not only went boldly into company with those who had tumors
and carbuncles upon them that were running, and consequently contagious, but
ate and drank with them, nay, into their houses to visit them, and even, as I
was told, into their very chambers where they lay sick.
This I could not see rational. My friend Dr Heath allowed,
and it was plain to experience, that the distemper was as catching as ever, and
as many fell sick, but only he alleged that so many of those that fell sick did
not die; but I think that while many did die, and that at best the distemper
itself was very terrible, the sores and swellings very tormenting, and the
danger of death not left out of the circumstances of sickness, though not so
frequent as before; all those things, together with the exceeding tediousness
of the cure, the loathsomeness of the disease, and many other articles, were
enough to deter any man living from a dangerous mixture with the sick people,
and make them as anxious almost to avoid the infections as before.
Nay, there was another thing which made the mere catching of
the distemper frightful, and that was the terrible burning of the caustics
which the surgeons laid on the swellings to bring them to break and to run,
without which the danger of death was very great, even to the last. Also, the
insufferable torment of the swellings, which, though it might not make people
raving and distracted, as they were before, and as I have given several
instances of already, yet they put the patient to inexpressible torment; and
those that fell into it, though they did escape with life, yet they made bitter
complaints of those that had told them there was no danger, and sadly repented
their rashness and folly in venturing to run into the reach of it.
Nor did this unwary conduct of the people end here, for a
great many that thus cast off their cautions suffered more deeply still, and
though many escaped, yet many died; and at least it had this public mischief
attending it, that it made the decrease of burials slower than it would
otherwise have been. For as this notion ran like lightning through the city,
and people's heads were possessed with it, even as soon as the first great
decrease in the bills appeared, we found that the two next bills did not
decrease in proportion; the reason I take to be the people's running so rashly
into danger, giving up all their former cautions and care, and all the shyness
which they used to practice, depending that the sickness would not reach
them—or that if it did, they should not die.
The physicians opposed this thoughtless humor of the people
with all their might, and gave out printed directions, spreading them all over
the city and suburbs, advising the people to continue reserved, and to use
still the utmost caution in their ordinary conduct, notwithstanding the
decrease of the distemper, terrifying them with the danger of bringing a
relapse upon the whole city, and telling them how such a relapse might be more
fatal and dangerous than the whole visitation that had been already; with many
arguments and reasons to explain and prove that part to them, and which are too
long to repeat here.
But it was all to no purpose; the audacious creatures were
so possessed with the first joy and so surprised with the satisfaction of
seeing a vast decrease in the weekly bills, that they were impenetrable by any
new terrors, and would not be persuaded but that the bitterness of death was
past; and it was to no more purpose to talk to them than to an east wind; but
they opened shops, went about streets, did business, and conversed with anybody
that came in their way to converse with, whether with business or without,
neither inquiring of their health or so much as being apprehensive of any
danger from them, though they knew them not to be sound.
This imprudent, rash conduct cost a great many their lives
who had with great care and caution shut themselves up and kept retired, as it
were, from all mankind, and had by that means, under God's providence, been
preserved through all the heat of that infection.
This rash and foolish conduct, I say, of the people went so
far that the ministers took notice to them of it at last, and laid before them
both the folly and danger of it; and this checked it a little, so that they
grew more cautious. But it had another effect, which they could not check; for
as the first rumor had spread not over the city only, but into the country, it
had the like effect: and the people were so tired with being so long from
London, and so eager to come back, that they flocked to town without fear or
forecast, and began to show themselves in the streets as if all the danger was
over. It was indeed surprising to see it, for though there died still from 1000
to 1800 a week, yet the people flocked to town as if all had been well.
The consequence of this was, that the bills increased again
400 the very first week in November; and if I might believe the physicians,
there was above 3000 fell sick that week, most of them newcomers, too.
One John Cock, a barber in St Martin's-le-Grand, was an
eminent example of this; I mean of the hasty return of the people when the
plague was abated. This John Cock had left the town with his whole family, and
locked up his house, and was gone in the country, as many others did; and
finding the plague so decreased in November that there died but 905 per week of
all diseases, he ventured home again. He had in his family ten persons; that is
to say, himself and wife, five children, two apprentices, and a maidservant. He
had not returned to his house above a week, and began to open his shop and
carry on his trade, but the distemper broke out in his family, and within about
five days they all died, except one; that is to say, himself, his wife, all his
five children, and his two apprentices; and only the maid remained alive.
But the mercy of God was greater to the rest than we had
reason to expect; for the malignity (as I have said) of the distemper was
spent, the contagion was exhausted, and also the winter weather came on apace,
and the air was clear and cold, with sharp frosts; and this increasing still,
most of those that had fallen sick recovered, and the health of the city began
to return. There were indeed some returns of the distemper even in the month of
December, and the bills increased near a hundred; but it went off again, and so
in a short while things began to return to their own channel. And wonderful it
was to see how populous the city was again all on a sudden, so that a stranger
could not miss the numbers that were lost. Neither was there any miss of the
inhabitants as to their dwellings—few or no empty houses were to be seen, or if
there were some, there was no want of tenants for them.
I wish I could say that as the city had a new face, so the
manners of the people had a new appearance. I doubt not but there were many
that retained a sincere sense of their deliverance, and were that heartily
thankful to that Sovereign Hand that had protected them in so dangerous a time;
it would be very uncharitable to judge otherwise in a city so populous, and
where the people were so devout as they were here in the time of the visitation
itself; but except what of this was to be found in particular families and
faces, it must be acknowledged that the general practice of the people was just
as it was before, and very little difference was to be seen.
Some, indeed, said things were worse; that the morals of the
people declined from this very time; that the people, hardened by the danger
they had been in, like seamen after a storm is over, were more wicked and more
stupid, more bold and hardened, in their vices and immoralities than they were
before; but I will not carry it so far neither. It would take up a history of
no small length to give a of all the gradations by which the course of things
in this city came to be restored again, and to run in their own channel as they
did before.
Some parts of England were now infected as violently as
London had been; the cities of Norwich, Peterborough, Lincoln, Colchester, and
other places were now visited; and the magistrates of London began to set rules
for our conduct as to corresponding with those cities. It is true we could not
pretend to forbid their people coming to London, because it was impossible to
know them asunder; so, after many consultations, the Lord Mayor and Court of
Aldermen were obliged to drop it. All they could do was to warn and caution the
people not to entertain in their houses or converse with any people who they
knew came from such infected places.
But they might as well have talked to the air, for the
people of London thought themselves so plague-free now that they were past all
admonitions; they seemed to depend upon it that the air was restored, and that
the air was like a man that had had the smallpox, not capable of being infected
again. This revived that notion that the infection was all in the air, that
there was no such thing as contagion from the sick people to the sound; and so
strongly did this whimsy prevail among people that they ran all together
promiscuously, sick and well. Not the Mahomet Ans, who, prepossessed with the
principle of predestination, value nothing of contagion, let it be in what it
will, could be more obstinate than the people of London; they that were
perfectly sound, and came out of the wholesome air, as we call it, into the
city, made nothing of going into the same houses and chambers, nay, even into
the same beds, with those that had the distemper upon them, and were not
recovered.
Some, indeed, paid for their audacious boldness with the
price of their lives; an infinite number fell sick, and the physicians had more
work than ever, only with this difference, that more of their patients
recovered; that is to say, they generally recovered, but certainly there were
more people infected and fell sick now, when there did not die above a thousand
or twelve hundred in a week, than there was when there died five or six
thousand a week, so entirely negligent were the people at that time in the
great and dangerous case of health and infection, and so ill were they able to
take or accept of the advice of those who cautioned them for their good.
The people being thus returned, as it were, in general, it
was very strange to find that in their inquiring after their friends, some
whole families were so entirely swept away that there was no remembrance of
them left, neither was anybody to be found to possess or show any title to that
little they had left; for in such cases what was to be found was generally embezzled
and purloined, some gone one way, some another.
It was said such abandoned effects came to the king, as the
universal heir; upon which we are told, and I suppose it was in part true, that
the king granted all such, as deodands, to the Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen
of London, to be applied to the use of the poor, of whom there were very many.
For it is to be observed, that though the occasions of relief and the objects
of distress were very many more in the time of the violence of the plague than now
after all was over, yet the distress of the poor was more now a great deal than
it was then, because all the sluices of general charity were now shut. People
supposed the main occasion to be over, and so stopped their hands; whereas objects
were still very moving, and the distress of those that were poor was very great
indeed.
Though the health of the city was now very much restored,
yet foreign trade did not begin to stir, neither would foreigners admit our
ships into their ports for a great while. As for the Dutch, the
misunderstandings between our court and them had broken out into a war the year
before, so that our trade that way was wholly interrupted; but Spain and
Portugal, Italy and Barbary, as also Hamburg and all the ports in the Baltic,
these were all shy of us a great while, and would not restore trade with us for
many months.
The distemper sweeping away such multitudes, as I have
observed, many if not all the out-parishes were obliged to make new
burying-grounds, besides that I have mentioned in Bunhill Fields, some of which
were continued, and remain in use to this day. But others were left off, and
(which I confess I mention with some reflection) being converted into other
uses or built upon afterwards, the dead bodies were disturbed, abused, dug up
again, some even before the flesh of them was perished from the bones, and
removed like dung or rubbish to other places. Some of those which came within
the reach of my observation are as follow:
(1) A piece of ground beyond Goswell Street, near Mount
Mill, being some of the remains of the old lines or fortifications of the city,
where abundance was buried promiscuously from the parishes of Alders gate,
Clerkenwell, and even out of the city. This ground, as I take it, was since
made a physic garden, and after that has been built upon.
(2) A piece of ground just over the Black Ditch, as it was
then called, at the end of Holloway Lane, in Shore ditch parish. It has been
since made a yard for keeping hogs, and for other ordinary uses, but is quite
out of use as a burying-ground.
(3) The upper end of Hand Alley, in Bishopsgate Street,
which was then a green field, and was taken in particularly for Bishopsgate
parish, though many of the carts out of the city brought their dead thither
also, particularly out of the parish of St All-hallows on the Wall. This place
I cannot mention without much regret. It was, as I remember, about two or three
years after the plague was ceased that Sir Robert Clayton came to be possessed
of the ground. It was reported, how true I know not, that it fell to the king
for want of heirs, all those who had any right to it being carried off by the
pestilence, and that Sir Robert Clayton obtained a grant of it from King
Charles II. But however, he came by it, certain it is the ground was let out to
build on, or built upon, by his order. The first house built upon it was a
large fair house, still standing, which faces the street or way now called Hand
Alley which, though called an alley, is as wide as a street. The houses in the
same row with that house northward are built on the very same ground where the
poor people were buried, and the bodies, on opening the ground for the
foundations, were dug up, some of them remaining so plain to be seen that the
women's skulls were distinguished by their long hair, and of others the flesh
was not quite perished; so that the people began to exclaim loudly against it,
and some suggested that it might endanger a return of the contagion; after
which the bones and bodies, as fast as they came at them, were carried to
another part of the same ground and thrown all together into a deep pit, dug on
purpose, which now is to be known in that it is not built on, but is a passage
to another house at the upper end of Rose Alley, just against the door of a
meeting-house which has been built there many years since; and the ground is palisaded
off from the rest of the passage, in a little square; there lie the bones and
remains of near two thousand bodies, carried by the dead carts to their grave
in that one year.
(4) Besides this, there was a piece of ground in Moorfield's;
by the going into the street, which is now called Old Bethel, which was
enlarged much, though not wholly taken in on the same occasion.
[N.B.—The author of this journal lies buried in that very ground,
being at his own desire, his sister having been buried there a few years
before.]
(5) Stoney parish, extending itself from the east part of
London to the north, even to the very edge of Shore ditch Churchyard, had a
piece of ground taken in to bury their dead close to the said churchyard, and
which for that very reason was left open, and is since, I suppose, taken into
the same churchyard. And they had also two other burying-places in Spittle
fields, one where since a chapel or tabernacle has been built for ease to this
great parish, and another in Petticoat Lane.
There were no less than five other grounds made use of for
the parish of Stoney at that time: one where now stands the parish church of St
Paul, Shadwell, and the other where now stands the parish church of St John's
at Wrapping, both which had not the names of parishes at that time, but were
belonging to Stoney parish.
I could name many more, but these coming within my knowledge,
the circumstance, I thought, made it of use to record them. From the whole, it
may be observed that they were obliged in this time of distress to take in new
burying-grounds in most of the out-parishes for laying the prodigious numbers
of people which died in so short a space of time; but why care was not taken to
keep those places separate from ordinary uses, that so the bodies might rest
undisturbed, that I cannot answer for, and must confess I think it was wrong.
Who were to blame I know not?
I should have mentioned that the Quakers had at that time
also a burying-ground set apart to their use, and which they still make use of;
and they had also a particular dead-cart to fetch their dead from their houses;
and the famous Solomon Eagle, who, as I mentioned before, had predicted the
plague as a judgement, and ran naked through the streets, telling the people
that it was come upon them to punish them for their sins, had his own wife died
the very next day of the plague, and was carried, one of the first in the
Quakers' dead-cart, to their new burying-ground.
I might have thronged this account with many more remarkable
things which occurred in the time of the infection, and particularly what
passed between the Lord Mayor and the Court, which was then at Oxford, and what
directions were from time to time received from the Government for their
conduct on this critical occasion. But really the Court concerned themselves so
little, and that little they did was of so small import, that I do not see it
of much moment to mention any part of it here: except that of appointing a
monthly fast in the city and the sending the royal charity to the relief of the
poor, both which I have mentioned before.
Great was the reproach thrown on those physicians who left
their patients during the sickness, and now they came to town again nobody
cared to employ them. They were called deserters, and frequently bills were set
up upon their doors and written, 'Here is a doctor to be let', so that several
of those physicians were fain for a while to sit still and look about them, or at
least remove their dwellings, and set up in new places and among new
acquaintance. The line was the case with the clergy, whom the people were
indeed very abusive to, writing verses and scandalous reflections upon them,
setting upon the church-door, 'Here is a pulpit to be let', or sometimes, 'to
be sold', which was worse.
It was not the least of our misfortunes that with our
infection, when it ceased, there did not cease the spirit of strife and
contention, slander and reproach, which was really the great troubler of the
nation's peace before. It was said to be the remains of the old animosities,
which had so lately involved us all in blood and disorder. But as the late Act
of Indemnity had laid asleep the quarrel itself, so the Government had
recommended family and personal peace upon all occasions to the whole nation.
But it could not be obtained; and particularly after the
ceasing of the plague in London, when any one that had seen the condition which
the people had been in, and how they caressed one another at that time,
promised to have more charity for the future, and to raise no more reproaches;
I say, any one that had seen them then would have thought they would have come
together with another spirit at last. But, I say, it could not be obtained. The
quarrel remained; the Church and the Presbyterians were incompatible. As soon
as the plague was removed, the Dissenting ousted ministers who had supplied the
pulpits which were deserted by the incumbents retired; they could expect no
other but that they should immediately fall upon them and harass them with
their penal laws, accept their preaching while they were sick, and persecute
them as soon as they were recovered again; this even we that were of the Church
thought was very hard, and could by no means approve of it.
But it was the Government, and we could say nothing to
hinder it; we could only say it was not our doing, and we could not answer for
it.
On the other hand, the Dissenters reproaching those
ministers of the Church with going away and deserting their charge, abandoning
the people in their danger, and when they had most need of comfort, and the
like: this we could by no means approve, for all men have not the same faith
and the same courage, and the Scripture commands us to judge the most favorably
and according to charity.
A plague is a formidable enemy and is armed with terrors
that every man is not sufficiently fortified to resist or prepared to stand the
shock against. It is very certain that a great many of the clergy who were in
circumstances to do it withdrew and fled for the safety of their lives; but
'tis true also that a great many of them stayed, and many of them fell in the
calamity and in the discharge of their duty.
It is true some of the Dissenting turned-out ministers stayed,
and their courage is to be commended and highly valued—but these were not
abundance; it cannot be said that they all stayed, and that none retired into
the country, any more than it can be said of the Church clergy that they all
went away. Neither did all those that went away go without substituting curates
and others in their places, to do the offices needful and to visit the sick, as
far as it was practicable; so that, upon the whole, an allowance of charity
might have been made on both sides, and we should have considered that such a
time as this of 1665 is not to be paralleled in history, and that it is not the
stoutest courage that will always support men in such cases. I had not said
this, but had rather chosen to record the courage and religious zeal of those
of both sides, who did hazard themselves for the service of the poor people in
their distress, without remembering that any failed in their duty on either
side. But the want of temper among us has made the contrary to this necessary:
some that stayed not only boasting too much of themselves, but reviling those
that fled, branding them with cowardice, deserting their flocks, and acting the
part of the hireling, and the like. I recommend it to the charity of all good
people to look back and reflect duly upon the terrors of the time, and whoever
does so will see that it is not an ordinary strength that could support it. It
was not like appearing in the head of an army or charging a body of horse in
the field, but it was charging Death itself on his pale horse; to stay was
indeed to die, and it could be esteemed nothing less, especially as things
appeared at the latter end of August and the beginning of September, and as
there was reason to expect them at that time; for no man expected, and I dare
say believed, that the distemper would take so sudden a turn as it did, and
fall immediately two thousand in a week, when there was such a prodigious
number of people sick at that time as it was known there was; and then it was
that many shifted away that had stayed most of the time before.
Besides, if God gave strength to some more than to others,
was it to boast of their ability to abide the stroke, and upbraid those that
had not the same gift and support, or ought not they rather to have been humble
and thankful if they were rendered more useful than their brethren?
I think it ought to be recorded to the honor of such men, as
well clergy as physicians, surgeons, apothecaries, magistrates, and officers of
every kind, as also all useful people who ventured their lives in discharge of
their duty, as most certainly all such as stayed did to the last degree; and
several of all these kinds did not only venture but lose their lives on that
sad occasion.
I was once making a list of all such, I mean of all those
professions and employments who thus died, as I call it, in the way of their
duty; but it was impossible for a private man to come at a certainty in the
particulars. I only remember that there died sixteen clergymen, two aldermen,
five physicians, thirteen surgeons, within the city and liberties before the
beginning of September. But this being, as I said before, the great crisis and
extremity of the infection, it can be no complete list. As to inferior people,
I think there died six-and-forty constables and head-boroughs in the two
parishes of Stoney and Whitechapel; but I could not carry my list on, for when
the violent rage of the distemper in September came upon us, it drove us out of
all measures. Men did then no more die by tale and by number. They might put
out a weekly bill, and call them seven or eight thousand, or what they pleased;
'tis certain they died by heaps and were buried by heaps without account. And
if I might believe some people, who were more abroad and more conversant with those
things than I thought I was public enough for one that had no more business to
do than I had,—I say, if I may believe them, there was not many less buried
those first three weeks in September than 20,000 per week. However, the others
aver the truth of it; yet I rather choose to keep to the public account; seven
and eight thousand per week is enough to make good all that I have said of the
terror of those times;—and it is much to the satisfaction of me that write, as
well as those that read, to be able to say that everything is set down with
moderation, and rather within compass than beyond it.
Upon all these accounts, I say, I could wish, when we were
recovered, our conduct had been more distinguished for charity and kindness in
remembrance of the past calamity, and not so much a valuing ourselves upon our
boldness in staying, as if all men were cowards that fly from the hand of God,
or that those who stay do not sometimes owe their courage to their ignorance,
and despising the hand of their Maker—which is a criminal kind of desperation,
and not a true courage.
I cannot but leave it upon record that the civil officers,
such as constables, head-boroughs, Lord Mayor's and sheriffs'-men, as also
parish officers, whose business it was to take charge of the poor, did their
duties in general with as much courage as any, and perhaps with more, because
their work was attended with more hazards, and lay more among the poor, who
were more subject to be infected, and in the most pitiful plight when they were
taken with the infection. But then it must be added, too, that a great number
of them died; indeed, it was scarce possible it should be otherwise.
I have not said one word here about the physic or
preparations that we ordinarily made use of on this terrible occasion—I mean we
that went frequently abroad and up down street, as I did; much of this was
talked of in the books and bills of our quack doctors, of whom I have said
enough already. It may, however, be added, that the College of Physicians were
daily publishing several preparations, which they had considered of in the
process of their practice, and which, being to be had in print, I avoid
repeating them for that reason.
One thing I could not help observing: what befell one of the
quacks, who published that he had a most excellent preservative against the
plague, which whoever kept about them should never be infected or liable to
infection. This man, who, we may reasonably suppose, did not go abroad without
some of this excellent preservative in his pocket, yet was taken by the
distemper, and carried off in two or three days.
I am not of the number of the physic-haters or
physic-despisers; on the contrary, I have often mentioned the regard I had to
the dictates of my particular friend Dr Heath; but yet I must acknowledge I
made use of little or nothing—except, as I have observed, to keep a preparation
of strong scent to have ready, in case I met with anything of offensive smells
or went too near any burying-place or dead body.
Neither did I do what I know some did: keep the spirits always
high and hot with cordials and wine and such things; and which, as I observed,
one learned physician used himself so much to ask that he could not leave them
off when the infection was quite gone, and so became a spot for all his life
after.
I remember my friend the doctor used to say that there was a
certain set of drugs and preparations which were all certainly good and useful
in the case of an infection; out of which, or with which, physicians might make
an infinite variety of medicines, as the ringers of bells make several hundred
different rounds of music by the changing and order or sound but in six bells,
and that all these preparations shall be really very good: 'Therefore,' said
he, 'I do not wonder that so vast a throng of medicines is offered in the
present calamity, and almost every physician prescribes or prepares a different
thing, as his judgement or experience guides him; but', says my friend, 'let
all the prescriptions of all the physicians in London be examined, and it will
be found that they are all compounded of the same things, with such variations
only as the particular fancy of the doctor leads him to; so that', says he,
'every man, judging a little of his own constitution and manner of his living,
and circumstances of his being infected, may direct his own medicines out of
the ordinary drugs and preparations. Only that', says he, 'some recommend one
thing as most sovereign, and some another. Some', says he, 'think that pill.
ruff., which is called itself the anti-pestilential pill is the best
preparation that can be made; others think that Venice treacle is sufficient of
itself to resist the contagion; and I', says he, 'think as both these think,
viz., that the last is good to take beforehand to prevent it, and the first, if
touched, to expel it.' According to this opinion, I several times took Venice
treacle, and a sound sweat upon it, and thought myself as well fortified
against the infection as anyone could be fortified by the power of physic.
As for quackery and mountebanks, of which the town was so
full, I listened to none of them, and have observed often since, with some
wonder, that for two years after the plague I scarcely saw or heard of one of
them about town. Some fancied they were all swept away in the infection to a
man, and were for calling it a particular mark of God's vengeance upon them for
leading the poor people into the pit of destruction, merely for the lucre of a
little money they got by them; but I cannot go that length neither. That
abundance of them died is certain—many of them came within the reach of my own
knowledge—but that all of them were swept off I much question. I believe rather
they fled into the country and tried their practices upon the people there, who
were in apprehension of the infection before it came among them.
This, however, is certain, not a man of them appeared for a
great while in or about London. There were, indeed, several doctors who
published bills recommending their several physical preparations for cleansing
the body, as they call it, after the plague, and needful, as they said, for
such people to take who had been visited and had been cured; whereas I must own
I believe that it was the opinion of the most eminent physicians at that time
that the plague was itself a sufficient purge, and that those who escaped the
infection needed no physic to cleanse their bodies of any other things; the
running sores, the tumors, &c., which were broke and kept open by the
directions of the physicians, having sufficiently cleansed them; and that all
other distempers, and causes of distempers, were effectually carried off that
way; and as the physicians gave this as their opinions wherever they came, the
quacks got little business.
There were, indeed, several little hurries which happened
after the decrease of the plague, and which, whether they were contrived to
fright and disorder the people, as some imagined, I cannot say, but sometimes
we were told the plague would return by such a time; and the famous Solomon
Eagle, the naked Quaker I have mentioned, prophesied evil tidings every day;
and several others telling us that London had not been sufficiently scourged,
and that sorer and severer strokes were yet behind. Had they stopped there, or
had they descended to particulars, and told us that the city should the next
year be destroyed by fire, then, indeed, when we had seen it come to pass, we
should not have been to blame to have paid more than a common respect to their
prophetic spirits; at least we should have wondered at them, and have been more
serious in our inquiries after the meaning of it, and whence they had the
foreknowledge. But as they generally told us of a relapse into the plague, we
have had no concern since that about them; yet by those frequent clamors, we
were all kept with some kind of apprehensions constantly upon us; and if any
died suddenly, or if the spotted fevers at any time increased, we were
presently alarmed; much more if the number of the plague increased, for to the
end of the year there were always between 200 and 300 of the plague. On any of
these occasions, I say, we were alarmed anew.
Those who remember the city of London before the fire must
remember that there was then no such place as we now call Negate Market, but
that in the middle of the street which is now called Blow bladder Street, and
which had its name from the butchers, who used to kill and dress their sheep
there (and who, it seems, had a custom to blow up their meat with pipes to make
it look thicker and fatter than it was, and were punished there for it by the
Lord Mayor); I say, from the end of the street towards Negate there stood two
long rows of shambles for the selling meat.
It was in those shambles that two persons falling down dead,
as they were buying meat, gave rise to a rumor that the meat was all infected;
which, though it might affright the people, and spoiled the market for two or
three days, yet it appeared plainly afterwards that there was nothing of truth
in the suggestion. But nobody can account for the possession of fear when it
takes hold of the mind.
However, its Pleased God, by the continuing of the winter
weather, so to restore the health of the city that by February following we
reckoned the distemper quite ceased, and then we were not so easily freighted
again.
There was still a question among the learned, and at first
perplexed the people a little: and that was in what manner to purge the house
and goods where the plague had been, and how to render them habitable again,
which had been left empty during the time of the plague. Abundance of perfumes
and preparations were prescribed by physicians, some of one kind and some of
another, in which the people who listened to them put themselves to a great,
and indeed, in my opinion, to an unnecessary expense; and the poorer people,
who only set open their windows night and day, burned brimstone, pitch, and
gunpowder, and such things in their rooms, did as well as the best; nay, the
eager people who, as I said above, came home in haste and at all hazards, found
little or no inconvenience in their houses, nor in the goods, and did little or
nothing to them.
However, in general, prudent, cautious people did enter into
some measures for airing and sweetening their houses, and burned perfumes,
incense, Benjamin, rosin, and Sulphur in their rooms close shut up, and then
let the air carry it all out with a blast of gunpowder; others caused large
fires to be made all day and all night for several days and nights; by the same
token that two or three were pleased to set their houses on fire, and so
effectually sweetened them by burning them down to the ground; as particularly
one at Ratcliff, one in Colbourn, and one at Westminster; besides two or three
that were set on fire, but the fire was happily got out again before it went
far enough to burn down the houses; and one citizen's servant, I think it was
in Thames Street, carried so much gunpowder into his master's house, for
clearing it of the infection, and managed it so foolishly, that he blew up part
of the roof of the house. But the time was not fully come that the city was to
be purged by fire, nor was it far off; for within nine months more I saw it all
lying in ashes; when, as some of our quacking philosophers pretend, the seeds
of the plague were entirely destroyed, and not before; a notion too ridiculous
to speak of here: since, had the seeds of the plague remained in the houses,
not to be destroyed but by fire, how has it been that they have not since
broken out, seeing all those buildings in the suburbs and liberties, all in the
great parishes of Stoney, Whitechapel, Landgate, Bishopsgate, Shore ditch, Cripple
gate, and St Giles, where the fire never came, and where the plague raged with
the greatest violence, remain still in the same condition they were in before?
But to leave these things just as I found them, it was
certain that those people who were more than ordinarily cautious of their
health, did take particular directions for what they called seasoning of their
houses, and abundance of costly things were consumed on that account which I
cannot but say not only seasoned those houses, as they desired, but filled the
air with very grateful and wholesome smells which others had the share of the
benefit of as well as those who were at the expenses of them.
And yet after all, though the poor came to town very precipitately,
as I have said, yet I must say the rich made no such haste. The men of
business, indeed, came up, but many of them did not bring their families to
town till the spring came on, and that they saw reason to depend upon it that
the plague would not return.
The Court, indeed, came up soon after Christmas, but the
nobility and gentry, except such as depended upon and had employment under the
administration, did not come so soon.
I should have taken notice here that, notwithstanding the
violence of the plague in London and in other places, yet it was very
observable that it was never on board the fleet; and yet for some time there
was a strange press in the river, and even in the streets, for seamen to man
the fleet. But it was in the beginning of the year, when the plague was scarce
begun, and not at all come down to that part of the city where they usually
press for seamen; and though a war with the Dutch was not at all grateful to
the people at that time, and the seamen went with a kind of reluctancy into the
service, and many complained of being dragged into it by force, yet it proved
in the event a happy violence to several of them, who had probably perished in
the general calamity, and who, after the summer service was over, though they
had cause to lament the desolation of their families—who, when they came back,
were many of them in their graves—yet they had room to be thankful that they
were carried out of the reach of it, though so much against their wills. We
indeed had a hot war with the Dutch that year, and one very great engagement at
sea in which the Dutch were worsted, but we lost a great many men and some
ships. But, as I observed, the plague was not in the fleet, and when they came
to lay up the ships in the river the violent part of it began to abate.
I would be glad if I could close the account of this
melancholy year with some examples historically; I mean of the thankfulness to
God, our preserver, for our being delivered from this dreadful calamity. Certainly,
the circumstance of the deliverance, as well as the terrible enemy we were
delivered from, called upon the whole nation for it. The circumstances of the
deliverance were indeed very remarkable, as I have in part mentioned already,
and particularly the dreadful condition which we were all in when we were to
the surprise of the whole town made joyful with the hope of a stop of the
infection.
Nothing but the immediate finger of God, nothing but
omnipotent power, could have done it. The contagion despised all medicine; death
raged in every corner; and had it gone on as it did then, a few weeks more
would have cleared the town of all, and everything that had a soul. Men
everywhere began to despair; every heart failed them for fear; people were made
desperate through the anguish of their souls, and the terrors of death sat in
the very faces and countenances of the people.
In that very moment when we might very well say, 'Vain was
the help of man',—I say, in that very moment it pleased God, with a most
agreeable surprise, to cause the fury of it to abate, even of itself; and the
malignity declining, as I have said, though infinite numbers were sick, yet
fewer died, and the very first weeks' bill decreased 1843; a vast number
indeed!
It is impossible to express the change that appeared in the
very countenances of the people that Thursday morning when the weekly bill came
out. It might have been perceived in their countenances that a secret surprise
and smile of joy sat on everybody's face. They shook one another by the hands in
the streets, who would hardly go on the same side of the way with one another
before. Where the streets were not too broad, they would open their windows and
call from one house to another, and ask how they did, and if they had heard the
good news that the plague was abated. Some would return, when they said good
news, and ask, 'What good news?' and when they answered that the plague was
abated and the bills decreased almost two thousand, they would cry out, 'God be
praised!' and would weep aloud for joy, telling them they had heard nothing of
it; and such was the joy of the people that it was, as it were, life to them
from the grave. I could almost set down as many extravagant things done in the
excess of their joy as of their grief; but that would be to lessen the value of
it.
I must confess myself to have been very much dejected just
before this happened; for the prodigious number that were taken sick the week
or two before, besides those that died, was such, and the lamentations were so
great everywhere, that a man must have seemed to have acted even against his
reason if he had so much as expected to escape; and as there was hardly a house
but mine in all my neighborhood but was infected, so had it gone on it would
not have been long that there would have been any more neighbors to be
infected. Indeed it is hardly credible what dreadful havoc the last three weeks
had made, for if I might believe the person whose calculations I always found
very well grounded, there were not less than 30,000 people dead and near
100.000 fallen sick in the three weeks I speak of; for the number that sickened
was surprising, indeed it was astonishing, and those whose courage upheld them
all the time before, sank under it now.
In the middle of their distress, when the condition of the
city of London was so truly calamitous, just then its pleased God—as it were by
His immediate hand to disarm this enemy; the poison was taken out of the sting.
It was wonderful; even the physicians themselves were surprised at it. Wherever
they visited they found their patients better; either they had sweated kindly,
or the tumors were broke, or the carbuncles went down and the inflammations
round them changed color, or the fever was gone, or the violent headache was
assuaged, or some good symptom was in the case; so that in a few days everybody
was recovering, whole families that were infected and down, that had ministers
praying with them, and expected death every hour, were revived and healed, and
none died at all out of them.
Nor was this by any new medicine found out, or new method of
cure discovered, or by any experience in the operation which the physicians or
surgeons attained to; but it was evidently from the secret invisible hand of
Him that had at first sent this disease as a judgement upon us; and let the
atheistic part of mankind call my saying what they please, it is no enthusiasm;
it was acknowledged at that time by all mankind. The disease was enervated and
its malignity spent; and let it proceed from whomsoever it will, let the
philosophers search for reasons in nature to account for it by, and labor as
much as they will to lessen the debt they owe to their Maker, those physicians
who had the least share of religion in them were obliged to acknowledge that it
was all supernatural, that it was extraordinary, and that no account could be
given of it.
If I should say that this is a visible summons to us all to
thankfulness, especially we that were under the terror of its increase, perhaps
it may be thought by some, after the sense of the thing was over, an officious
canting of religious things, preaching a sermon instead of writing a history,
making myself a teacher instead of giving my observations of things; and this
restrains me very much from going on here as I might otherwise do. But if ten
lepers were healed, and but one returned to give thanks, I desire to be as that
one, and to be thankful for myself.
Nor will I deny but there was abundance of people who, to
all appearance, were very thankful at that time; for their mouths were stopped,
even the mouths of those whose hearts were not extraordinary long affected with
it. But the impression was so strong at that time that it could not be
resisted; no, not by the worst of the people.
It was a common thing to meet people in the street that were
strangers, and that we knew nothing at all, expressing their surprise. Going
one day through Landgate, and a pretty many people being passing and repassing,
there comes a man out of the end of the Minorizes, and looking a little up the
street and down, he throws his hands abroad, 'Lord, what an alteration is here!
Why, last week I came along here, and hardly anybody was to be seen.' Another
man—I heard him—adds to his words, 'Tic all wonderful; 'tis all a dream.'
'Blessed be God,' says a third man, and let us give thanks to Him, for 'tis all
His own doing, human help and human skill was at an end.' These were all
strangers to one another. But such salutations as these were frequent in the
street every day; and despite a loose behavior, the very common people went
along the streets giving God thanks for their deliverance.
It was now, as I said before, the people had cast off all
apprehensions, and that too fast; indeed we were no more afraid now to pass by
a man with a white cap upon his head, or with a cloth wrap round his neck, or
with his leg limping, occasioned by the sores in his groin, all which were
frightful to the last degree, but the week before. But now the street was full
of them, and these poor recovering creatures, give them their due, appeared
very sensible of their unexpected deliverance; and I should wrong them very
much if I should not acknowledge that I believe many of them were really
thankful. But I must own that, for the generality of the people, it might too
justly be said of them as was said of the children of Israel after their being
delivered from the host of Pharaoh, when they passed the Red Sea, and looked
back and saw the Egyptians overwhelmed in the water: viz., that they sang His
praise, but they soon forgot His works.
I can go no farther here. I should be counted censorious,
and perhaps unjust, if I should enter into the unpleasing work of reflecting,
whatever cause there was for it, upon the thankfulness and return of all manner
of wickedness among us, which I was so much an eye-witness of myself. I shall
conclude the account of this calamitous year therefore with a coarse but
sincere stanza of my own, which I placed at the end of my ordinary memorandums
the same year they were written: —
A dreadful plague
in London was
In the year
sixty-five,
Which swept a
hundred thousand souls
Away, yet I alive!
H. F.
A JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR
Reviewed by bsm
on
March 29, 2020
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