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 neighbours, 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 rumours and reports of things,
and to improve them by the invention of men, as I
have lived to see practised 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
rumour 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 endeavoured to conceal it
as much as possible, but as it had gotten some vent
in the discourse of the neighbourhood, 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, Holborn,
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
Whereof one of the plague.
The like increase of the bills was
observed in the parishes of St Bride’s, adjoining
on one side of Holborn parish, and in the parish of
St James, Clerkenwell, adjoining on the other side
of Holborn; 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 really 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, Holborn;
St Clement Danes; and, to the great affliction of
the city, one died within the walls, in the parish
of St Mary Woolchurch, that is to say, in Bearbinder
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 Bearbinder 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.
’Tis true St Giles’s buried two-and-thirty,
but still, as there was but one of the plague, 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 neighbours shunning and refusing
to converse with them, and also to prevent authority
shutting up their houses; which, though it was not
yet practised, 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 Aldgate, about midway
between Aldgate Church and Whitechappel 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 neighbourhood 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 Whitechappel; that is to say, the Broad Street
where I lived; indeed, nothing was to be seen but
waggons 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 waggons 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 rumoured 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 rumours 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 neighbours 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 actings, seeing it may not he 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 Northamptonshire, 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 frighted
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 Mahometans 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 endeavoured 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 I’ and the like; and at that juncture I happened
to stop turning over the book at the gist 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 flieth
by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness;
nor for the destruction that wasteth 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 most High, 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, Holborn, 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 Clarkenwell, Cripplegate,
Shoreditch, and Bishopsgate; which last two parishes
joining to Aldgate, Whitechappel, and Stepney, 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 Aldgate but four, in the parish of Whitechappel
three, in the parish of Stepney 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 Cripplegate parish especially, and in
Clarkenwell; so that by the second week in August,
Cripplegate parish alone buried 886, and Clarkenwell
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 practised 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 every one
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
Holborn, 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
up, 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 frighted 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 calf the
Liberties, and in the suburbs, in Southwark, and in
the east part, such as Wapping, Ratcliff, Stepney,
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 families 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 labour.
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
chiefest number of whom lived then in the parishes
of Shoreditch, Stepney, Whitechappel, 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 Akeldama, 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
colour, 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 frighted them terribly,
such as Lilly’s Almanack, Gadbury’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
into speech with me or any one 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 bills 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 spake, 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 poring continually at
the clouds saw shapes and figures, representations
and appearances, which had nothing in them but air,
and vapour. 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 endeavoured 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 palisado
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 palisadoes 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, ‘Tis 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 vapours
in abundance, and sent them away trembling and frighted,
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 endeavours 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 up 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 endeavoured
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 practised
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 labouring poor.
Their fears were predominant over all their passions,
and they threw away their money in a most distracted
manner upon those whimsies. Maid-servants especially,
and men-servants, 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 really 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 Saviour 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 practising 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.’ ’Neverfailing
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.’ ‘An
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
practised 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. ’Tis sufficient
from these to apprise any one of the humour 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.
I 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 humour 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, philtres, 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
plaque being at hand was among them, and which may
be said to be from about Michaelmas 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 unperforming 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
neighbour’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 dulness 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 hardenedest 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 humour 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 brought to an
end. 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
skilful 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 labour 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 endeavoured 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, Shoreditch, Aldgate,
Whitechappel, Stepney, 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 Mayor’s
were published, as I have said, the latter end of
June, and took place from the 1st of July, and were
as follows, viz.:—