Historical fiction; London (England) -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction; Plague -- Fiction
Here I saw a poor man walking on the bank, or "sea wall" as they call
it, by himself. I walked awhile 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 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, "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 hath 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 is 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?"--"O 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 is 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 it 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."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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