With a good few centuries between us and it, most of us will
admit to being fascinated by the plague.
Although outbreaks were common, most people think of ‘the Plague’ as the
Great Plague of London of 1665. And that outbreak could have spread across the
north of England, were it not for the courageous actions of the villagers of
Eyam in Derbyshire.
It started at the end of August, when apprentice tailor
George Viccars received some cloth from London. A few days after its arrival he
fell ill, and within a week he was dead (killed, we now know, because of
infected fleas living in the cloth). The family he lodged with, and then the
Thorpe family next door, and then the Wragg family across the road, became horribly
ill, and the villagers realised the plague was among them. A few left. But, under
the guidance of rector, William Mompesson and the previous incumbent, Thomas
Stanley, rather than risk spreading the disease, the vast majority of the
villagers bravely decided to place themselves under quarantine.
As the plague took hold, neighbouring villagers left food and
other supplies at boundary markers outside Eyam or at Mompesson’s well (as it
is now called) above the village. Money was left in pools of vinegar in hollowed-out
stones. To reduce the risk of cross-infection, families were tasked with the
awful job of burying their own dead, either in their gardens or nearby fields.
Elizabeth Hancock buried the bodies of her husband and six children within
eight days of each other; she carried them half a mile away to Riley’s farm. It
was also decided to hold church services outside, at a natural amphitheatre on
the outskirts of the village called Cucklett Delf, rather than everyone
crowding into the church.
Cucklett Delf was also where Emmott Sydall would meet her
sweetheart Rowland Torre, who was from the nearby village of Stoney Middleton.
They would call to each other across the rocks that separated them, until one
day Emmott did not appear.
Some 14 months after the death of George Viccars, the
outbreak eventually burnt itself out. Estimates of how many of the villagers died
vary, but Eyam church has records of 273 victims. The population of Eyam was
thought to be about 350. William
Mompesson lived, although his wife Catherine, who nursed the sick, did not.
Elizabeth Hancock, too, survived. The first person to enter Eyam from outside
in the wake of the plague was Rowland Torre, looking for Emmott. But she had succumbed
to the disease six months earlier.
Eyam had paid a terrible price, but the villagers achieved
their aim. The plague did not spread to surrounding towns and villages, and a
major outbreak had been averted. Today, the last Sunday in August is ‘Plague
Sunday’ in Eyam. An open-air service is held at Cucklett Delf to commemorate the
sacrifice of the villagers.
Little Bess and a kind man’s grave
A few years before the events at Eyam, Congleton in Cheshire
was suffering its own outbreak of a particularly virulent plague. First to be
affected were the Laplove family, but the disease spread like wildfire. Mayor
John Bradshaw (later to become infamous as the judge who sentenced King Charles
I to death) banned all alehouses and lodging houses from taking in travellers
from Derby and other areas suspected of being the source of the disease. A man
was employed to shoot all dogs seen in the streets.
At the start, the sick were shut up in their own houses,
guarded by wardens. Later, they were taken to specially built ‘pest-houses’, which
were purged with pitch, tar and frankincense. They were each awarded twopence a
day by the town for their care.
Heroine of this story is ‘Little Bess’ (also referred to in
some quarters as ‘Lancashire Bess’, so presumably she was not a native of Congleton),
who alone devotedly nursed the sick with no thought for her own safety. The town accounts show Little Bess was given small
amounts of money for ‘necessaries for the sick or the dead’ (including a bowl
to hold liquorice and wine vinegar), and to support herself and her mother
through the crisis.
The outbreak lasted two years and Congleton became so
deserted that, it is recorded, grass grew in the streets. In spite of Little
Bess’s efforts the Laplove household was almost completely wiped out – Astbury
parish registers show that five of them were buried in two days. John
Bradshaw’s accounts book shows that he sent money for ‘Laplove’s little girl in
her weakness’, and his wife sent blankets. With the help of Little Bess, this
child survived, but we do not know how many others did.
The parish register of Malpas, in the west of Cheshire, has
a poignant entry regarding one man’s death at the hands of the plague. It
reads: ‘Richard Dawson, being sick of the plague, and perceiving he must die,
rose out of his bed and made his grave, and caused his nephew to cast straw
into the grave, which was not far from the house, and went and laid down in the
said grave, and caused clothes to be laid upon him, and so departed out of this
world. This he did because he was a strong man, and heavier than his said
nephew and a serving-wench were able to bury. He died about the 24th of August.
This was I credibly told he did, 1625.’
Some cures for the plague
The panic felt by our ancestors when they realised the
plague had arrived must have been overwhelming. Powerless though they were against
it, ‘cures’ abounded. Here are a couple –
Take Walnuts, when the
green Husk is on them, and before the shell is hardened underneath, put them,
when bruised to steep in white Wine eight days: then with some Baum, Rue and
Tops of Fetherfew and Wormwood a little bruised, put them in an Alembick and
distil them: then when you drink an ounce and a half of water, which you may
do, morning, noon and night, put it into some perfumed Comfits, and stir them
well about till they are dissolved.
Take water of
Scabious, Endive, Rue and red Roses, of each, four ounces, white Dittany,
Tormentile, white Coral, Gentian and Bole Armoniack, with Terrfigillata –
reduce those that are to be powdered separately; infuse them in the warm water
in a glass vessel, and drink about an ounce at a time pretty warm, keeping the
body warm after it.
Margaret Blackwell, who came through the plague at Eyam,
attributed her survival to the somewhat simpler remedy of drinking hot bacon
fat.
'Plague cottages', Eyam. The end house was occupied by George Viccars, and was where the plague started. The house with the white front door, Rose Cottage, belonged to the Thorpe family. All nine died.
,
Graves of the Hancock family, at Riley's field.
By making his mark at the bottom of this indenture 16-year-old
Matthew Thornley of Sutton, near Macclesfield took the first step in what he
hoped would be a successful career, becoming apprentice to one Abraham Bury,
earthen- and blackware manufacturer.
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