Historical fiction; London (England) -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction; Plague -- Fiction
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, "O 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 his name, though I
knew his name too; but that would be a hardship to the family, which is
now flourishing again.[137]
But this is but one. It is scarce credible what dreadful cases happened
in particular 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,[138] raving and distracted, and
oftentimes laying violent hands upon themselves, throwing themselves out
at their windows, shooting themselves, etc.; 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 frighted
into idiotism[139] and foolish distractions, some into despair and
lunacy, others into melancholy madness.
The pain of the swelling was in particular 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 burned 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 watchmen or
other officers, and plunge themselves into the water wherever they found
it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account