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The History and Antiquities of Eyam
By William Wood (1842, 1845 & 1860)

The Plague: August 1665 - October 1666

From the interment of Mrs. Mompesson (August the twenty-fifth) to the end of the month, although four-fifths of the population were swept away, the pestilence raged with unabated fury. On the twenty-sixth of this terrible month, Marshall Howe, who had been daily employed in hurrying the dead to their unhallowed graves, was doomed to experience a loss equal, in his own estimation, to that of his pastor. Joan, his wife, who had often remonstrated with him to desist from his perilous avocation, was seized with the distemper: and the virulence of the attack threatened almost immediate dissolution. Though he had been, for full two months, moving in the whirlwind of death, yet up to this time he had deemed himself invulnerable to the pest; but the infection of his wife brought conviction to his mind that he had been the means of bringing the disease across his own threshold; and he wept bitterly. The direful symptom appeared on the sun-browned bosom of his beloved Joan; and early on the morning of the twenty-seventh, she breathed her last. Marshall wept aloud over the stiffening limbs; but ere the sun had tipped with gold the orient hills of Eyam, he had wound her up, and carried her in his brawny arms to a neighbouring field, where he dug a grave and buried her silently therein. A sullen sadness overspread his mien, while over her remains he patted the earth with an unusual and unconscious circumspection. Filled with gloomy sensations he returned to his home, but alas! there he found his only son William, struggling with the pest. Despair "whirled his brain to madness;" he cast himself on a couch and uttered doleful lamentations. William, his beloved son, who had inherited something of his father's iron constitution, wrestled with the horrid and deadly disease until the morning of the third day of his sickness, when he yielded to his direful and mortal antagonist. His disconsolate father bore his warm but lifeless corpse to the grave of his wife, beside which he buried it, while floods of tears bespoke his inconceivable agony. Marshall Howe, however, continued his unenviable office; but the recklessness and levity with which he had exhibited were no longer observable after the bereavement of his wife and son. The terrified and fast dwindling villagers were no longer startled, when he returned from the interment of a victim in the Cussy-dell, by the following observations, which on these occasions he sometimes made:- "Ah! I saw Old Nick grinning on the ivied rock as I dragged such-a-one along the dell!" Marshall Howe was buried April 20th, 1698.

The sixth, twenty-sixth, and the last day of August, were the only days in that awful month, on which no one died: while the whole number who perished in the other twenty-eight days was seventy-seven. This number of deaths must be considered really appalling, especially when it is taken into estimation that the population of the village on the first of August was considerably under two hundred. The havoc in this month was dreadful beyond all description. The houses eastward, from the middle of the village, were nearly all empty. The inhabitants of the extreme western part of the village, who were at that time very few, shut themselves close up in their houses; nor would they, on any occasion whatever, cross a small rivulet eastward, which runs under the street in that part of Eyam. That portion of the street which crosses this small stream is called to this day "Fiddler's Bridge;" and it is very commonly asserted that the plague never crossed it westward. This assertion is not correct; but as there were but very few inhabitants in that direction, not many deaths could occur. Indeed, those who fled at the breaking out of the disease, were principally, if not exclusively, inhabitants of that part, and consequently, there would be but few left. One man, however, is said to have taken the distemper by intending to visit his sister, a widow, who dwelt in the Lydgate, or to the eastern part of Eyam, whom he found dead and her habitation empty. Thus, like leaves in Autumn, fell the villagers of Eyam, in that terrible and fatal month, August 1666.

AUGUST 1666

(Names and dates of persons buried.)

George Ashe Aug. 1^st.

Mary Nealor Aug. 1^st.

John Hadfield Aug. 2^nd.

Robert Bunton Aug. 2^nd.

Ann Naylor Aug. 2^nd.

Jonathan Naylor Aug. 2^nd.

Elizabeth Glover Aug. 2^nd.

Alexander Hadfield Aug. 3^rd.

Jane Nealor Aug. 3^rd.

Godfrey Torre Aug. 3^rd.

John Hancock, jun. Aug. 3^rd.

Elizabeth Hancock Aug. 3^rd.

Margaret Buxton Aug. 3^rd.

Robert Barkinge Aug. 3^rd.

Margaret Percival Aug. 4^th.

Annie Swinnerton Aug. 4^th.

Rebecca Mortin,

Shepherds' Flat Aug. 4^th.

Robert French Aug. 6^th.

Richard Thorpe Aug. 6^th.

Thomas Frith Aug. 6^th.

John Yealot Aug. 7^th.

Oner Hancock Aug. 7^th.

John Hancock Aug. 7^th.

William Hancock Aug. 7^th.

Abraham Swinnerton Aug. 8^th.

Alice Hancock Aug. 9^th.

Ann Hancock Aug. 10^th.

Francis Frith Aug. 10^th.

Elizabeth Kemp Aug. 11^th.

William Hawksworth Aug. 12^th.

Thomas Kempe Aug. 12^th.

Francis Bocking Aug. 13^th.

Richard Bocking Aug. 13^th.

Mary Bocking Aug. 13^th.

John Tricket Aug. 13^th.

Ann Tricket (his wife) Aug. 13^th.

Mary Whitbey Aug. 13^th.

Sarah Blackwall, Bretton Aug. 13^th.

Briget Naylor Aug. 13^th.

Robert Hadfield Aug. 14^th.

Margaret Swinnerton Aug. 14^th.

Alice Coyle Aug. 14^th.

Thurston Whitbey Aug. 15^th.

Alice Bocking Aug. 15^th.

Briget Talbot Aug. 15^th.

Michael Kempe Aug. 15^th.

Ann Wilson Aug. 15^th.

Thomas Bilston Aug. 16^th.

Thomas Frith Aug. 17^th.

Joan French Aug. 17^th.

Mary Yealot Aug. 17^th.

Sarah Mortin,

Shepherds' Flat Aug. 18^th.

Elizabeth Frith Aug. 18^th.

Ann Yealot Aug. 18^th.

Thomas Ragge Aug. 18^th.

Ann Halksworth Aug. 19^th.

Joan Ashmore Aug. 19^th.

Elizabeth Frith Aug. 20^th.

Margaret Mortin Aug. 20^th.

Ann Rowland Aug. 20^th.

Joan Buxton Aug. 20^th.

Frances Frith Aug. 21^st.

Ruth Mortin Aug. 21^st.

---- Frith (an infant) Aug. 22^nd.

Lydia Kempe Aug. 22^nd.

Peter Hall, Bretton. Aug. 23^rd.

----- Mortin (an infant) Aug. 24^th.

Catherine Mompesson Aug. 25^th.

Samuel Chapman Aug. 25^th.

Ann Frith Aug. 25^th.

Joan Howe Aug. 27^th.

Thomas Ashmore Aug. 27^th.

Thomas Wood Aug. 28^th.

William Howe Aug. 30^th.

Mary Abell Aug. 30^th.

Catherine Talbot *Aug. 30^th.

Francis Wilson Aug. 30^th.

* Of the Talbot family thirteen died.

---

SEPTEMBER came with little abatement of the destructiveness of the horrid malady. A dreamy stillness reigned around the nearly desolate village; it was canopied by a dark and deepening gloom, which fancy might imagine to have been formed by the incessant accumulation of sorrowful respirations. The last day of September was one of the few days during that month unattended by death. Although the inhabitants, at the beginning of September, were reduced to a very few, still the insatiated pest carried away, as hereafter shown, twenty-four during that month.

SEPTEMBER 1666

(Names of victims and dates of interment.)

Elizabeth Frith Sept. 1^st.

William Percival Sept. 1^st.

Robert Trickett Sept. 2^nd.

Henry Frith Sept. 3^rd.

John Wilson Sept. 4^th.

Mary Darby Sept. 4^th.

William Abell Sept. 7^th.

George Frith Sept. 7^th.

Godfrey Ashe Sept. 8^th.

William Halksworth Sept. 9^th.

Robert Wood Sept. 9^th.

Humphrey Merril Sept. 9^th.

Sarah Wilson Sept. 10^th.

Thomas Mozley Sept. 16^th.

Joan Wood Sept. 16^th.

Mary Percival Sept. 18^th.

Francis Mortin Sept. 20^th.

George Butterworth Sept. 21^st.

Ann Townsend, Bretton Sept. 22^nd.

Ann Glover Sept. 23^rd.

Ann Hall Sept. 23^rd.

Francis Halksworth* Sept. 23^rd.

----Townsend (an infant) Sept. 29^th.

Susanna Mortin Sept. 29^th.

* The Halksworths lived in the next house to that where the plague broke out. The third person who died of the plague was a Peter Halksworth.

---

OCTOBER came, the month in which the plague ceased; yet, up to the eleventh, it still carried on the work of destruction, with but little relaxation of fury. On the eleventh of October, 1666, this awful minister of death, after having from the first day of the same month destroyed fourteen out of about forty-five - and having carried away full five-sixths of the inhabitants of the village- was exhausted with excessive slaughter, and in its last conflict, worsted and destroyed.

OCTOBER 1666

(Names of those who died, the dates of their burial are only partly given.)

James Parsley Oct. 1^st.

Grace Mortin Oct. 2^nd.

Peter Ashe Oct. 4^th.

Abram Mortin Oct. 5^th.

Thomas Torre Oct---

Benjamin Mortin Oct---

Elizabeth Mortin Oct---

Alice Teylor Oct---

Ann Parsley Oct---

Agnes Sheldon Oct---

Mary Mortin Oct---

Samuel Hall Oct---

Peter Hall Oct---

Joseph Mortin Oct---

The winter which succeeded the cessation of the pestilence, was, by the very few who were left, wholly spent in burning the furniture of the pest-houses, and likewise nearly all the bedding and clothing found in the village: reserving scarcely anything to cover their nakedness. The necessary articles of apparel were fumigated and purified; and every means that could be suggested were taken to prevent the resurrection of the horrid pest. But, the awful dread of this deadly monster, the condition of the village at the termination of its ravages, will be best shown by giving, after the following letter of Mompesson, a few very popular and authentic traditions of that unspeakable and agonizing time.

"To John Beilby, Esq.,____, Yorkshire.

"Eyam, Nov. 20 1666

"DEAR SIR,- I suppose this letter will seem to you no less than a miracle, that my habitation is inter vivos. I have got these lines transcribed by a friend, being loth to affright you with a letter from my hands. You are sensible of my state, the loss of the kindest wife in the world, whose life was amiable, and end most comfortable.She was in an excellent posture when death came, which fills me with assurance that she is now invested with a crown of righteousness. I find this maxim verified by too sad experience: Bonum magis carendo quam fruendo cernitur. Had I been as thankful as my condition did deserve, I might have had my dearest dear in my bosom. But now farewell all happy days, and God grant that I may repent my sad ingratitude!

"The condition of the place has been so sad, that I persuade myself that it did exceed all history and example. Our town has become a Golgotha, the place of a skull: and had there not been a small remnant left, we had been as Sodom, and like to Gomorrah. My ears never heard such doleful lamentations- my nose never smelled such horrid smells, and my eyes never beheld such ghastly spectacles. There have been 76 families visited within my parish, out of which 259 persons died. Now (blessed be God) all our fears are over, for none have died of the plague since the eleventh of October, and the pest houses have been long empty. I intend (God willing) to spend this week in seeing all woollen clothes fumed and purified, as well for the satisfaction as for the safety of the country. Here have been such burning of goods that the like, I think, was never known. For my part, I have scarcely apparel to shelter my body, having wasted more than I needed merely for example.During this dreadful visitation, I have not had the least symptom of disease, nor had I ever better health. My man had the distemper, and upon the appearance of a tumour I gave him some chemical antidotes, which operated, and after the rising broke, he was very well. My maid continued in health, which was a blessing; for had she quailed, I should have been ill set to have washed and gotten my provisions. I know I have had your prayers; and I conclude that the prayers of good people have rescued me from the jaws of death. Certainly I had been in the dust had not Omnipotence itself been conquered by holy violence.

"I have largely tasted of the goodness of the Creator, and the grim looks of death did never yet affright me. I always had a firm faith that my babes would do well, which made me willing to shake hands with the unkind, froward world; yet I shall esteem it a mercy if I am frustrated in the hopes I had of a translation to a better place, and God grant that with patience I may wait for my change, and that I may make a right use of His mercies; as the one has been tart, so the other hath been sweet and comfortable.

"I perceive by a letter from Mr. Newby, of your concern for my welfare. I make no question but I have your unfeigned love and affection. I assure you that during my troubles you have had a great deal of room in my thoughts. Be pleased, dear Sir, to accept the presentments of my kind respects, and impart them to your good wife and all my dear relations. I can assure you that a line from your hand will be welcome to your sorrowful and affectionate nephew."

"WILLIAM MOMPESSON."

Thus wrote this affectionate spirit- thus he describes the sufferings of his flock, which sufferings, however, will be further and more fully detailed in the following

TRADITIONS OF THE PLAGUE

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