A Journal of the Plague Year: 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 — John Shaqi
A Journal of the Plague Year: 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 LondonDefoe, Daniel
History
A Journal of the Plague Year: 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
Defoe, Daniel
Great Fire, London, England, 1666 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; London (England) -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction; Plague -- Fiction
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 storey 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 plaister 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.
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