East Anglia had not long to wait. In the valley of the Stour, a mile or two from Sudbury, where the stream serves as the boundary between Suffolk and Essex, the ancestors of Lord Walsingham had two manors in the township of Little Cornard--the one was called Caxtons, the other was the Manor of Cornard Parva. At this latter manor a court was held on the 31st of March--the number of tenants of the manor can at no time have exceeded fifty--yet at this court six women and three men are registered as having died since the last court was held, two months before. This is the earliest instance I have yet met with of the appearance of the plague among us, and as it is the earliest, so does it appear to have been one of the most frightful visitations from which any town or village in Suffolk or Norfolk suffered during the time the pestilence lasted. On the 1st of May another court was held, fifteen more deaths are recorded--thirteen men and two women. _Seven of them without heirs._ On the 3rd of November, apparently when the panic abated, again the court met. In the six months that had passed thirty-six more deaths had occurred, and _thirteen more households_ had been left without a living soul to represent them. In this little community, in six months' time, twenty-one families had been absolutely obliterated--men, women and children--and of the rest it is difficult to see how there can have been a single house in which there was not one dead. Meanwhile, some time in September, the parson of the parish had fallen a victim to the scourge, and on the 2nd of October another was instituted in his room. Who reaped the harvest? The tithe sheaf too--how was it garnered in the barn? And the poor kine at milking time? Hush! Let us pass on. * * * * * * *