Through the whole of this trying season Cardinal Frederick Borromeo,

the Archbishop of Milan, distinguished himself by an unceasing zeal in

the cause of religion and charity. The ample revenues of his dignity,

at all times liberally dispersed among those who needed assistance,

were now devoted to the support of the lazarettos; and his private

resources were increased by the zeal of the rich, who placed large

sums of money at his disposal, confident that in his hands they

would be most beneficially and discreetly employed. One remarkable

instance of generosity is recorded. Two countrymen requested and

obtained admission to the cardinal. “We are two brothers,” they said,

“husbandmen, whom our father left in possession of a small farm: we

have brought here 2000 gold pieces, which hard labour and economy

have enabled us to accumulate, and now lay them at your feet, to be

disposed to such charitable uses as shall appear best to you.” No less

prodigal of his personal safety than of his wealth, this excellent

prelate declared that he would never quit the city so long as the

plague lasted; and he kept his word, notwithstanding the earnest and

importunate solicitations of many who set a higher value on his life

than he himself did. He visited the hospitals, the poor, gave free

access to every person, however humble, who wished to see him, and

directed his especial attention to requiring from the parochial clergy

a strict discharge of their duties in this trying season, when the

ministration of spiritual assistance to the sick and dying was esteemed

more hazardous than mounting a breach or storming a battery. And it is

just to observe that both the parochial and conventual clergy displayed

a noble zeal in encountering danger and labour, not only up to, but

beyond the strict letter of their duty. They regulated the lazarettos

and preserved such order as could be maintained in such establishments,

and attended to the bodily and mental wants of their patients, hopeless

of preserving their own life through the dangers to which they were

exposed, and therefore undeterred by danger when good was to be done.

On the contrary, none of the physicians would enter the hospitals. The

tribunal of health and the municipal authorities requested the college

of that faculty to depute some members of their body to perform that

duty: it was answered, that they would send members who should go as

far as the walls, keeping however outside the ditch surrounding the

establishment, and there do what they could to help the sick, but that

no one would consent to enter those roofs to his certain destruction.

They tried in vain to bribe men to this service, and were obliged to

seek physicians in France and Germany.

Ripamonte possessed a breviary which had been the cardinal’s, which

contained many manuscript observations made by him during the

progress of the plague. They contain among several curious anecdotes

the following observations on the reports prevalent concerning the

anointers: “Truth and falsehood are readily intermixed, and with

respect to this factitious plague many things are said of which you

may readily believe a part, and as readily disprove others: and thus

I admit some of those stories; others may, I think, be rejected. This

I do not hesitate to affirm, that many have thought they could acquit

themselves of negligence in exposing themselves to infection, by

asserting that the plague which they have themselves caught, has been

the work of anointers.”

The practices which, whether falsely or truly, were said to exist,

are these. Men begged through the city, offering poisoned papers under

the appearance of petitions. The earth and its productions, eatables,

money given in charity, were poisoned. The fastenings of doors, as

being necessarily handled, were special objects of attack; as were also

the basins of holy water placed in churches. Poles were used to anoint

what was out of reach, and bellows to scatter poisoned dust. “These and

other things which were loudly proclaimed, I neither believe entirely,”

says the cardinal, “nor yet think them reported entirely without

foundation.” On the whole, without believing that these crimes were

committed either at the instigation of foreign princes, or in virtue

of an express compact with the devil, the cardinal seems decidedly

to incline to the conclusion, that the pestilence was spread, if not

originated, by artificial means; and to refer the guilt to soldiers

(and the mercenaries of that day were men capable of any enormities),

and other men of broken fortunes, who hoped to enrich themselves by

plunder amid the general confusion, dismay, and death. Before we quit

this subject, it is due to his reputation to state that he, and he

alone, strongly disapproved of the procession with the body of St.

Charles Borromeo, as furnishing the best opportunity to anointers, if

such villains there were, and at all events of ensuring an increase of

the disorder; since among such a multitude many persons were sure to

bear about them the seeds of infection.

Towards the end of September the disease began to abate; and its

decline was signalized by as impudent a fraud as has ever been

practised, even in those earlier times when the power of the church

and the blindness of the people were most remarkable. Attached to the

Dominican convent there was a church of high reputation, dedicated

to the Virgin, in gratitude for her signal kindness towards the city

of Milan. On the night of September 22nd, the monks were collected,

waiting for the matin service, when suddenly their several occupations

of praying or sleeping were interrupted by the sound of the church

bells. It soon appeared that they were rung miraculously, without

touch of mortal fingers.[124] Some manifested wonder, others fear,

according to their different tempers, but all were at a loss to explain

the prodigy, until a voice too awful to be human was heard to say,

“Mother, I will take pity upon my people.” The interpretation of the

miracle then was evident: the Virgin had sought and obtained from her

Son the remission of the plague, and the next morning the oil which fed

the lamp suspended before her image was found to possess a miraculous

healing virtue, and was distributed drop by drop to all classes, who

crowded, high and low, to receive it; not, we may presume, without a

handsome tribute of gratitude to the protectress herself, and to her

servants the Dominicans. Ripamonte, cautious of expressing a doubt

concerning the anointers, breathes not a syllable from which a want

of faith in this miracle can even be inferred: the church was the

church of the Inquisition, and it was from the Dominican monks that

the officers of that institution were chosen. The number of deaths,

however, began to diminish about or somewhat earlier than this time,

and grew smaller and smaller as the autumn advanced; and by the close

of the year Milan was delivered from this dreadful scourge.

The number who died in these few months was registered at 140,000, but

this is supposed to have been below the mark, because many persons were

privately buried by their friends, to avoid introducing the Monatti

into their houses.

The extravagant credulity of the Milanese, and the fury and crimes

which sprung from that credulity, may be partially excused on the

ground that in that age even learned men believed in the possibility

of exciting pestilence by means half–medical, half–magical, and that

evil spirits exercised a malign influence over the air, and interfered

visibly in diffusing the evil. More than thirty years later, the

Jesuit Kircher, a man of various and extensive knowledge, but of a

mystic temper, and a firm believer in the power of magic and occult

influences, speaks of this plague as produced by the arts of evil men.

Nor does he want authorities to strengthen his belief, among whom we

may mention Theophrastus, who speaks of a terrible plague produced by

poisoners in his own time, and gives the receipt for the pestiferous

mixture, the ingredients of which are the putrid bodies of men deceased

of the plague, and the bones, marrow, and poison of angry toads,

approximating nearly to the receipt given by Ripamonte. To prove that

demons may act as the ministers of God’s wrath to scatter the seeds of

pestilence, he quotes Gregory of Nyssa, a father of the church in the

fourth century, who relates in his Life of St. Gregory Thaumaturgus

(the wonder–worker), that in a city of Greece, the people being

collected in the theatre were much inconvenienced for want of room

and made loud complaints, on which the evil spirit was to reply that

there should soon be room enough in the city. And before the audience

dispersed, so fierce a pestilence broke out among them, that in brief

space a populous city was changed into a desert. Here the drift of the

story is evident—it was a warning against theatrical amusements, which

the Christians abhorred not only as profane, but as idolatrous, and a

proof of the power of the devil over those who frequented them. The

Pythagorean philosophers maintained similar doctrines as to the agency

of spirits. Apollonius of Tyana, being at Ephesus during a pestilence,

observed a demon under the habit of a fisherman busily employed in

spreading the infection. He commanded that the fisherman should be

stoned, and immediately the plague ceased. Similar stories are told

of Pythagoras by Iamblichus. And the monkish writers helped mainly to

encourage a belief of the interference of the devil in human affairs,

by the many legends in which the spiritual adversary was introduced, to

his own discomfiture and to the glory of some favourite saint.

It may reasonably be hoped, almost as much from the improved sanitary

regulations and increased cleanliness of our cities, as from the

progress of medical science, that no future pestilence will inflict

upon Europe sufferings equal to those which have been described, and

which are still to follow. To enable us, however, better to appreciate

the value of this hope, we may refer shortly to the condition of

that science about the period of which we have been speaking. The

structure of the body, and the properties of minerals, were for the

most part unknown even to the best Greek and Latin physicians; and

though anatomy had made considerable progress at the beginning of the

seventeenth century, pharmacy had made little or none. The regular

physicians were educated in the schools of universities, where they

imbibed that profound respect for the authority of the ancients which

characterized the universities of that day, and that love of exclusive

privilege which has been charged upon universities in general. Brought

up in the fear of Hippocrates and Galen, they received their sayings

as oracular, and would probably rather have let a patient die,

_secundum artem_, than have employed remedies unsanctioned by their

authority. Chemistry meanwhile had made some progress, and in seeking

the philosopher’s stone many valuable properties of minerals had been

discovered: but the discreditable character of the alchemists, and

professional jealousy and prejudice, combined to render those persons,

who from their knowledge and their reputation might best have availed

themselves of the remedies thus presented, unwilling to profit, or

to let others profit, by discoveries made in so irregular a manner.

The effect of this ill–judged adherence to the wisdom of antiquity

was not of course to stifle the powerful preparations employed by

Paracelsus, Van Helmont, and others, but to throw them exclusively

into the hands of another party. Hence arose the contending sects

of Galenists and chemists, the former employing none but vegetable

productions, the latter ridiculing the Galenical pharmacy as cumbrous

and ineffectual, and placing their dependance on the newly–discovered

properties of mercury, antimony, sulphur, and other metals and earths.

It was probably very much owing to this schism that the practice of

medicine was so much infested by quacks towards the close of the

sixteenth and early in the seventeenth century, more so perhaps than

at any other period. The real power of the remedies discarded by the

most influential professors of the healing art could not be hidden,

and might easily be exaggerated; and hence arose a vast multitude of

empirics, each with his elixir vitæ, or some infallible medicine or

other, which vended under a lofty name, and with the pretence of deep

science, gained ready hold upon the credulity of the ignorant and the

simple.

“He is a rare physician, do him right,

An excellent Paracelsian, and has done

Strange cures with mineral physic. He deals all

With spirits—he. He will not hear a word

Of Galen, or his tedious recipes.”[125]

Such was the state of medicine in England at this period: of its

state in Italy we are not qualified to speak; but, from an instance

presently to be quoted, it would seem to have been no more advanced

than it was in England. And as there was no disease for which money

could not purchase some infallible remedy, so the plague, as the

object of most general apprehension, was best of all suited for the

impostures of those whose treasury was the credulity of other people.

A reference to any collection of tracts upon this subject, published

before or during the year 1665, will satisfy the reader on this

head: the examples which follow have occurred during a very cursory

examination of one or two volumes, from which they might easily have

been multiplied. We find in ‘A Ioyfull Iewell,.. first made and

published in the Italian tung, by the famous and learned Knight and

Doctor M. Leonardo Fioraventie,’ such receipts as this: “Of Elixir

Vitæ, and how to make it, and of his great Vertues.” It consists of

forty ingredients, such as ginger, juniper, sage, rose–leaves, aloes,

figs, raisins, honey, &c., an equal quantity of each. This, if it

did no good, could perhaps do little harm: but when it is professed

that if any use it in time of pestilence, it is impossible he should

be infected, the deceit becomes a source of serious evil. Another

is worse, and joins blasphemy to impudence. “A great and miraculous

secret to help the pestilence, with great ease and in a short time;

a remedy and secret revealed of God miraculously. When a man hath a

pestilent sore, let there be made a hole in the earth, and there let

him be buryed all saving the neck and head, and there let him stand

xii or xiiii houres and he shall be holpen, and then take him forth:

and merveyl not that I write this medicine, because the earth is our

mother, and that which purifieth all things, as we see by experience

that the earth taketh forth all spots in cloth, it susteineth and

maketh flesh tender if we bury it v or vi hours in the earth.” Or “the

water of the sea hath a marveylous remedy in it against the pestilence,

if they wash them therein iiii or v houres togither, or if need require

let him stand x or xii houres therein.” Truly a man would be well

“holpen” by such remedies: yet this Fioraventi, a Bolognese physician

and alchemist of the sixteenth century, enjoyed considerable reputation

among his contemporaries. The chemists of course were not sparing in

their censures of their adversaries the Galenists, and the ingenious

and industrious Iatrochemist, Dr. George Thomson, makes the following

observations, in which the reader may be inclined partly to join:

“These, especially if they can but surreptitiously get some chymical

medicines from us, will, at a hazard, try what a dry fume of gums will

do, a costly pomander, a composition of figs, rue, and walnuts (a

rueful medicine to trust to if all were known), Mathias’ plague water,

or aqua epidemica (I wonder they forgat St. Luke’s water for mere

credit’s sake), an electuary of London treacle and wood–sorrel (I am

persuaded a leg of veal and green–sauce is far better), bole–armeniac

(no whit better than tobacco–clay, except that ‘tis dearer and farther

fetched). If these avail not, if they light upon rich families (let the

poor shift for themselves), they will provide for them (taking a share

with them) pearls, hyacinth–stone prepared (after their gross way),

bezoar–stone of the east, unicorn’s horn (equivalent to harts–horn),

lignum aloes—strange they omitted gold, but that I believe they mean to

put into their own purse.”[126] The ridicule is not undeserved, when

we find such articles as crab’s eyes, julap of violets, oil of amber,

confection of hyacinth, and other preparations of precious stones

in the materia medica of the day. Dr. Thomson, however, has his own

‘Ternion of effectual Chymical Remedies,’ with which “noble chymical

preparations if any desire to be accommodated in this sad time of

contagion, let them repair to the place of his abode without Aldgate,

nigh the Blew–Boare Inn.” Spirit of salt and oil of sulphur appear to

have been favourite remedies with this class of practitioners.

The greatest and last plague which has appeared in London first showed

itself in Westminster towards the end of the year 1664. In December a

three months’ frost set in, which stopped its progress, but with the

spring it returned, though doubtfully, and continued through May and

June with more or less severity. At the beginning of August it set in

with far greater violence, and was at its height about the beginning of

September, when more than twelve thousand persons died weekly. Having

reached this height, it began to decrease. By the beginning of November

the city began to wear a more healthy aspect, and in December people

were crowding back again as fast as they before had crowded out.[127]

The total number of deaths is thus given:—

Within the city of London 9,887

In Westminster 8,403

Parishes without the Walls 28,888

Neighbourhood, including Hackney, }

Islington, Lambeth, Rotherhithe,} 21,420

&c., in all 12 parishes }

———

68,598

Enough has been already said of the general appearance and course

of such disorders. Instead therefore of another connected narrative,

we shall only extract some of the most remarkable incidents and

reflections to be found in Defoe’s and Pepys’s journals.

“The face of London was now indeed strangely altered, I mean the whole

mass of buildings, city, liberties, suburbs, Westminster, Southwark,

and altogether; for as to the particular part called the city, or

within the walls, that was not yet much infected; but in the whole,

the face of things, I say, was much altered: sorrow and sadness sat

upon every face, and though some part were not overwhelmed, yet all

looked deeply concerned; and as we saw it apparently coming on, so

every one looked on himself and his family as in the utmost danger:

were it possible to represent those times exactly to those that did not

see them, and give the reader due ideas of the horror that everywhere

presented itself, it must make just impressions upon their minds, and

fill them with surprise. London might well be said to be all in tears;

the mourners did not go about the streets indeed, for nobody put on

black, or made a formal dress of mourning for their nearest friends;

but the voice of mourning was truly heard in the streets; the shrieks

of women and children at the windows and doors of their houses, where

their nearest relations were perhaps dying, or just dead, were so

frequent to be heard as we passed the streets, that it was enough

to pierce the stoutest heart in the world to hear them. Tears and

lamentations were seen almost in every house, especially in the first

part of the visitation, for towards the latter end, men’s hearts were

hardened, and death was always so much before their eyes, that they did

not so much concern themselves for the loss of their friends, expecting

that they themselves should be summoned the next hour.”[128]

“At the beginning of this surprising time, while the fears of the

people were young, they were increased strangely by several odd

accidents, which put altogether, it was really a wonder the whole body

of the people did not rise as one man, and abandon their dwellings,

leaving the place as a space of ground designed by Heaven for an

Akeldama, doomed to be destroyed from the face of the earth, and that

all that would be found in it would perish with it. I shall name but a

few of these things; but sure they were so many, and so many wizards

and cunning people propagating them, that I have often wondered there

was any (women especially) left behind.

“In the first place, a blazing star or comet appeared for several

months before the plague, as there did the year after, another,

a little before the fire; the old women, and the phlegmatic

hypochondriacal part of the other sex, whom I could almost call old

women too, remarked, especially afterwards, though not till both

those judgments were over, that those two comets passed directly over

the city, and that so very near the houses, that it was plain they

imported something peculiar to the city alone; and the comet before

the pestilence was of a faint, dull, languid colour, and its motion

very heavy, solemn, and slow; but that the comet before the fire was

bright and sparkling; or as others said, flaming, and its motion swift

and furious, and that accordingly one foretold a heavy judgment, slow

but severe, terrible and frightful, as was the plague. But the other

foretold a stroke, sudden, swift, and fiery, as was the conflagration;

nay, so particular some people were, that as they looked upon that

comet preceding the fire, they fancied that they not only saw it pass

swiftly and fiercely, and could perceive the motion, with their eye,

but even they heard it, that it made a rushing mighty noise, fierce and

terrible, though at a distance, and but just perceivable.

“I saw both these stars, and I must confess, had had so much of the

common notion of such things in my head, that I was apt to look

upon them as the forerunners and warnings of God’s judgments, and

especially, when the plague had followed the first, I yet saw another

of the like kind, I could not but say, God had not yet sufficiently

scourged the city.

[Illustration:

[Medal in commemoration of the plague and fire of London. It represents

the eye of God in the centre, and the two comets, one on each side; that

on the right showering down pestilence upon the city. On the other side

the city is represented on fire, while a violent east wind is urging the

flames. The foreground is full of images of distress: a ship tossed by

the waves; a man drowning; a withered tree: Death fighting with a man on

horseback. The reverse of this curious piece, the history of which, when

and by whom it was struck, is, we believe, unknown, is given in p. 230.

Legend: “So he punishes.”]

“The apprehensions of the people were likewise strangely increased

by the error of the times, in which I think the people, from what

principle I cannot imagine, were more addicted to prophecies and

astrological conjurations, dreams, and old wives’ tales, than ever they

were before or since. Whether this unhappy temper was originally raised

by the follies of some people who got money by it, that is to say, by

printing predictions and prognostications, I know not: but certain it

is, books frightened them terribly, such as Lilly’s Almanac, Gadbury’s

Astrological Predictions, Poor Robin’s Almanac, and the like; also

several pretended religious books, one entitled, ‘Come out of her, my

people, lest ye be partaker of her Plagues;’ another called, ‘Fair

Warning;’ another, ‘Britain’s Remembrancer,’ and many such; all or most

part of which foretold, directly or covertly, the ruin of the city.

Nay, some were so enthusiastically bold as to run about the streets

with their oral predictions, pretending they were sent to preach to the

city; and one in particular, who, like Jonah to Nineveh, cried in the

streets, ‘Yet forty days, and London shall be destroyed.’ I will not be

positive whether he said ‘yet forty days,’ or ‘yet a few days.’[129]

Another ran about naked, except a pair of drawers about his waist,

crying day and night, like a man that Josephus mentions, who cried,

‘Woe to Jerusalem!’ a little before the destruction of that city. So

this poor naked creature cried, ‘O! the great and the dreadful God!’

and said no more, but repeated those words continually, with a voice

and countenance full of horror, a swift pace, and nobody could ever

find him to stop, or rest, or take any sustenance, at least that I

could hear of. I met this poor creature several times in the streets,

and would have spoken to him, but he would not enter into speech with

me, or any one else, but kept on his dismal cries continually. These

things terrified the people to the last degree; and especially when two

or three times, as I have mentioned already, they found one or two in

the bills dead of the plague at St. Giles’s.”[130]

PEPYS. June 7.—“The hottest day that ever I felt in my life.

This day, much against my will, I did see in Drury–lane two or three

houses marked with a red cross upon the doors, and ‘Lord have mercy

upon us’ writ there, which was a sad sight to me, being the first of

that kind that to my remembrance I ever saw.”

June 17.—“It struck me very deep this afternoon, going with a

hackney–coach down Holborn, from the Lord Treasurer’s: the coachman I

found to drive easily and easily, at last stood still, and came down

hardly able to stand, and told me he was suddenly struck very sick, and

almost blind, he could not see: so I light, and went into another coach

with a sad heart for the poor man, and for myself also, lest he should

have been struck with the plague.”

DEFOE. “I went all the first part of the time freely about the

streets, though not so freely as to run myself into apparent danger,

except when they dug the great pit in the churchyard of our parish of

Aldgate. A terrible pit it was, and I could not resist my curiosity

to go and see it; as near as I may judge, it was about forty feet in

length, and about fifteen or sixteen feet broad; and at the time I

first looked at it, about nine feet deep: but it was said they dug it

near twenty feet deep afterwards, in one part of it, till they could go

no deeper for the water; for they had, it seems, dug several large pits

before this; for though the plague was long a coming to our parish,

yet when it did come, there was no parish in or about London where it

raged with such violence as in the parishes of Aldgate and Whitechapel.

“It was about the 10th of September that my curiosity led, or rather drove me

to go and see this pit again, when there had been near four hundred

people buried in it; and I was not content to see it in the day time,

as I had done before, for then there would have been nothing to have

seen but the loose earth; for all the bodies that were thrown in were

immediately covered with earth by those they called the buriers, which

at other times were called bearers; but I resolved to go in the night,

and see some of them thrown in. There was a strict order to prevent

people coming to those pits, and that was only to prevent infection;

but after some time that order was more necessary, for people that

were infected, and near their end, and delirious also, would run to

those pits wrapt in blankets, or rugs, and throw themselves in, and,

as they said, bury themselves. I got admittance into the churchyard by

being acquainted with the sexton who attended, who, though he did not

refuse me at all, yet earnestly persuaded me not to go; telling me very

seriously, for he was a good religious and sensible man, that it was

indeed their business and duty to venture and to run all hazards, and

that in it they might hope to be preserved; but that I had no apparent

call to it but my own curiosity, which, he said, he believed I would

not pretend was sufficient to justify my running that hazard. I told

him I had been pressed in my mind to go, and that perhaps it might

be an instructing sight, and one that would not be without its uses.

‘Nay,’ said the good man, ‘if you will venture upon that score, in

name of God go in, for, depend upon it, it will be a sermon to you; it

may be the best you ever heard in your life. It is a speaking sight,’

said he, ‘and has a voice with it, and a loud one, to call us all to

repentance;’ and with that he opened the door, and said, ‘Go if you

will.’

“His discourse had shocked my resolution a little, and I stood wavering

for a good while; but just at that interval I saw two links come over

from the end of the Minories, and heard the bellman, and then appeared

a dead–cart, as they called it, coming over the streets, so I could

no longer resist my desire of seeing it, and went in.... It had in it

sixteen or seventeen bodies; some were wrapt up in linen sheets, some

in rugs, some little other than naked, or so loose that what covering

they had fell from them in the shooting out of the cart, and they fell

quite naked amongst the rest; but the matter was not much to them, nor

the indecency to any one else, seeing they were all dead, and were to

be huddled together into the common grave of mankind, as we may call

it, for here was no difference made, but poor and rich went together;

there was no other way of burials, neither was it possible there

should, for coffins were not to be had for the prodigious numbers that

fell in such a calamity as this.

“It was reported, by way of scandal upon the buriers, that if any

corpse was delivered to them, decently wound up, as we called it then,

in a winding sheet, tied over the head and feet, which some did, and

which was generally of good linen—I say it was reported that the

buriers were so wicked as to strip them in the cart, and carry them

quite naked to the ground; but as I cannot credit any thing so vile

among Christians, and at a time so filled with terrors as that was, I

can only relate it, and leave it undetermined.

“Innumerable stories also went about of the cruel behaviour and

practice of nurses who attended the sick, and of their hastening on

the fate of those they attended in their sickness[131].... It is to

be observed, that the women were in all this calamity the most rash,

fearless, and desperate creatures; and as there were vast numbers that

went about as nurses to tend those that were sick, they committed a

great many petty thieveries in the houses where they were employed,

and some of them were publicly whipped for it, when perhaps they ought

rather to have been hanged for examples, for numbers of houses were

robbed on these occasions; till at length the parish officers were sent

to recommend nurses to the sick, and always took an account of who it

was they sent, so as that they might call them to account, if the house

had been abused where they were placed. But these robberies extended

chiefly to wearing clothes, linen, and what rings or money they could

come at, when the person died who was under their care, but not to a

general plunder of the houses; and I could give you an account of one

of these nurses, who, several years after, being on her death–bed,

confessed with the utmost horror the robberies she had committed at the

time of her being a nurse, and by which she had enriched herself to a

great degree; but as for murders, I do not find that there ever was any

proof of the facts, in the manner as it has been reported, except as

above. They did tell me indeed of a nurse in one place that laid a wet

cloth on the face of a dying patient whom she tended, and so put an end

to his life, who was just expiring before; and another that smothered

a young woman she was looking to when she was in a fainting fit, and

would have come to herself; some that killed them by giving them one

thing, some another, and some starved them by giving them nothing at

all. But these stories had two marks of suspicion that always attended

them, which caused me always to slight them, and to look upon them as

mere stories that people continually frighted each other with. That,

wherever it was that we heard it, they always placed the scene at the

further end of the town opposite or most remote from where you were to

hear it. In the next place, of whatsoever part you heard the story,

the particulars were always the same, especially that of laying a wet

double clout on a dying man’s face, and that of smothering a young

gentlewoman, so that it was apparent, at least to my judgment, that

there was more of tale than of truth in those things.”[132]

“I had some little obligations upon me to go to my brother’s house,

which was in Coleman–street parish, and which he had left to my care,

and I went at first every day, but afterwards only once or twice a week.

“In these walks I had many dismal scenes before my eyes; as

particularly of persons falling dead in the streets, terrible shrieks

and screechings of women, who in their agonies would throw open their

chamber windows, and cry out in a dismal surprising manner. It is

impossible to describe the variety of postures in which the passions of

the poor people would express themselves.

“Passing through Tokenhouse–yard, in Lothbury, of a sudden a casement

violently opened just over my head, and a woman gave three frightful

screeches, and then cried, ‘Oh! death, death, death!’ in a most

inimitable tone, and which struck me with horror and a chillness in my

very blood. There was nobody to be seen in the whole street, neither

did any other window open, for people had no curiosity now in any

case; nor could any body help one another; so I went on to pass into

Bell–alley.

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 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, 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.

“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, raving and

distracted, and oftentimes laying violent hands upon themselves,

throwing themselves out at their windows, shooting themselves, &c.;

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 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 burnt

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.”[133]

“One of the worst days we had in the whole time, as I thought, was in

the beginning of September, when indeed good people were beginning to

think that God was resolved to make a full end of the people in this

miserable city. This was at that time when the plague was fully come

into the eastern parishes. The parish of Aldgate, if I may give my

opinion, buried above 1000 a week for two weeks, though the bills did

not say so many; but it surrounded me at so dismal a rate, that there

was not a house in twenty uninfected. In the Minories, in Houndsditch,

and in those parts of Aldgate parish about the Butcher–row, and the

alleys over against me, I say in those places death reigned in every

corner. Whitechapel parish was in same condition, and though much less

than the parish I lived in, yet buried near 600 a week, by the bills;

and in my opinion near twice as many. Whole families, and indeed whole

streets of families, were swept away together, insomuch as it was

frequent for neighbours to call to the bellman to go to such and such

houses and fetch out the people, for that they were all dead.

“And indeed the work of removing the dead bodies by carts was now

grown so very odious and dangerous, that it was complained of that

the bearers did not take care to clear such houses, where all the

inhabitants were dead, but that some of the bodies lay unburied,

till the neighbouring families were offended with the stench, and

consequently infected. And this neglect of the officers was such,

that the churchwardens and constables were summoned to look after it,

and even the justices of the Hamlets were obliged to venture their

lives among them to quicken and encourage them; for innumerable of the

bearers died of the distemper, infected by the bodies they were obliged

to come so near; and had it had not been that the number of people who

wanted employment, and wanted bread, as I have said before, was so

great that necessity drove them to undertake any thing, and venture any

thing, they would never have found people to be employed, and then the

bodies of the dead would have lain above ground, and have perished and

rotted in a dreadful manner.

“But the magistrates cannot be enough commended in this, that they kept

such good order for the burying of the dead, that as fast as any of

those they employed to carry off or bury the dead fell sick and died,

as was many times the case, they immediately supplied the places with

others, which, by reason of the great number of poor that was left out

of business, was not hard to do. This occasioned that notwithstanding

the infinite number of people which died, and were sick, almost all

together, yet they were always cleared away and carried off every

night, so that it was never to be said of London that the living were

not able to bury the dead.

“As the desolation was greater during those terrible times, so the

amazement of the people increased, and a thousand unaccountable things

they would do in the violence of their fright, as others did the same

in the agonies of their distemper, and this part was very affecting:

some went roaring and crying, and wringing of their hands along the

streets; some would go praying, and lifting up their hands to heaven,

calling upon God for mercy. I cannot say, indeed, whether this was

not in their distraction; but be it so, it was still an indication of

a more serious mind, when they had the use of their senses, and was

much better, even as it was, than the frightful yellings and cryings

that every day, and especially in the evenings, were heard in some

streets. I suppose the world has heard of the famous Solomon Eagle, an

enthusiast: he, though not infected at all but in his head, went about

denouncing of judgment upon the city in a frightful manner, sometimes

quite naked, and with a pan of burning charcoal on his head. What he

said, or pretended indeed, I could not learn.

[Illustration:

[Reverse of the medal given in p. 220. Here every thing is prosperous:

a corn–field on the one side, a vineyard on the other; in front are

ships riding in quiet, and the withered tree has put forth leaves. The

figure in front, by the serpent about his arm, seems meant for St. Paul.

Legend: ‘Mere goodness.’]

“I will not say whether that clergyman was distracted or not, or

whether he did it out of pure zeal for the poor people, who went every

evening through the streets of Whitechapel, and with his hands lifted

up, repeated that part of the liturgy of the church continually,

‘Spare us, good Lord; spare thy people whom thou hast redeemed with

thy most precious blood.’ I say I cannot speak positively of these

things, because these were only the dismal objects which represented

themselves to me as I looked through my chamber windows, for I seldom

opened the casements, while I confined myself within doors during that

most violent raging of the pestilence; when indeed many began to think,

and even to say, that there would none escape; and indeed I began to

think so too, and therefore kept within doors for about a fortnight,

and never stirred out. But I could not hold it. Besides there were some

people who, notwithstanding the danger, did not omit publicly to attend

the worship of God, even in the most dangerous times. And though it is

true that a great many of the clergy did shut up their churches and

fled, as other people did, for the safety of their lives, yet all did

not do so; some ventured to officiate, and to keep up the assemblies

of the people by constant prayers, and some times sermons, or brief

exhortations to repentance and reformation, and this as long as they

would hear them. And dissenters did the like also, and even in the very

churches, where the parish ministers were either dead or fled; nor

was there any room for making any difference at such a time as this

was.[134]

PEPYS, Sept. 3.—Lord’s day.—“Up and put on my silk coloured

suit, very fine, and my periwig, bought a good while since, but durst

not wear, because the plague was in Westminister when I bought it;

and it is a wonder what will be the fashion after the plague is done

as to periwigs, for nobody will dare to buy any hair for fear of the

infection, that it had been cut off the heads of people dead of the

plague.”

It would be a great shame to laugh at Mr. Pepys after he has done so

much to amuse the world: but these, and such as these, are the most

curious and important particulars concerning the pestilence recorded in

his minute and extensive diary.

END OF VOL. II.

London: WILLIAM CLOWES and SON, Stamford–street.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Page

John Sobieski, king of Poland, from a medal struck after the

deliverance of Vienna 5

Medal struck by the Dutch, after the defeat of the Spanish

Armada. Above is the name of Jehovah encompassed by a glory,

from which the Pope, Cardinals, and Monks are flying in grand

confusion. Motto, “Whom God will destroy with the breath of

his mouth.” 86

Another medal struck by the Dutch on the same occasion,

representing the Pope, Cardinals, and Catholic Princes, sitting

in conclave, blindfold, and trampling upon iron spikes. There

are two mottos, “It is hard to kick against the pricks.” “O the

blind minds, the blind hearts of men!” 126

Bust of Miltiades, from Visconté, Iconographie Grecque 127

Bust of Themistocles, from the same 140

Bust of Thucydides 141

Pericles. From a marble bust in the British Museum 161

Medal of Boccaccio 164

Medal of Cardinal Charles Borromeo, from a cast in the

British Museum 202

Medal struck to commemorate the Plague and Fire of London

Obverse 220

Reverse 230

The medals have been engraved from the originals in the British Museum.

INDEX

Aristides, 131, 132, 139, 140, 143.

Armada, Spanish, 112–126.

Athens, plague of, 166, 169–177.

Cid, Chronicle of, 25–28.

Cimon, policy of, 143–146.

Constantinople, plague of, 178–183.

Drageschan, battle of, 74.

Education, Athenians, 152–157.

Florence, plague of, 184–197.

Jaques, St., battle of, 64–69.

London, plague of, 218–23.

Marathon, battle of, 13–16.

Milan, plague of, 98–214.

Miltiades, 127–130.

Morgarten, battle of, 43–52.

Peloponnesian war, origin of, 158–163.

Pericles, policy of, 147–152.

Plague, historians who have described it, 164–166;

——principal recorded, 166–169;

——of Athens, 169–177;

——of Constantinople, 177–183;

——of Florence, 184–198;

——of Milan, 198–214;

——medical treatment and state of science, 214–218;

——of London, 218–231.

Reading, Aloys, 48.

Salamis, battle of, 86–103.

Siege of La Valette, 69–72;

——of Leyden, 103–112;

——methods of the ancients, their rudeness and little improvement,

until the use of gunpowder, 22–27, 29–32;

——Introduction of cannon, 38, 39;

——of Numantia, 19–22;

——of Tyre, 25–28;

——Syracuse, by Marcellus, 28–31;

——by Athenians, 177;

——of Jerusalem, 32–36;

——of La Réole, 37;

——of Ostend, 39–50;

——of Magdeburg, 50–62;

——of Zaragoza, 63–77.

Sempach, battle of, 49–54; Law of, 68.

Sobieski, John, King of Poland, 30–41.

Sophists, 153–157.

Themistocles, character and policy of, 133–140.

Thermopylæ, battle of, 55–64

Tours, battle of, 23–25.

Valette, La, siege of, 69–72.

Vienne, siege by Turks, and battle, 30–41.

Xerxes, invasion of Greece by, 5–22, 55–64.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] This expression of Herodotus, that the Thracians themselves made

Miltiades tyrant (_κατεστήσαντο τύραννον_), illustrates the meaning

of the word: they invested him not with the power of oppressing them

at pleasure, but with a form of authority for which the Grecian

constitutions offered no precedent.

[2] Southey’s Chronicle of the Cid, Book I. iv.

[3] See Mitford, chap. vii. 4.

[4] The polemarch was the third in rank of the Archons, and was at the

head of the military administration.

[5] A feeling of democratical equality, and the fear of making an

individual too powerful, may probably have led to this division of

military command at Athens. The absolute equality of the two consuls at

Rome produced a similar effect when they both were present in the same

army. The battle of Cannæ furnished a memorable example of its danger:

after continual discord between Paulus Æmilius and Varro, the latter

took advantage of his day of command to give the signal for battle,

without even consulting his colleague, an old and experienced soldier:

and the result was the delivery of Hannibal from a very critical

position by the utter destruction of the Roman army.

[6] In earlier times this had been the post of the king (Eurip.,

Suppl., 657), and the polemarch, who succeeded in great measure to his

military station, retained it. In the same manner, the second archon,

who succeeded to the priestly functions of the king, retained the name

of king, _βασιλεὺς_; and a similar instance is found in Roman history,

where the title of king, _rex_, after it had become odious in political

matters, was retained by the priest appointed to perform those sacred

rites which the kings themselves had formerly performed.

[7] A Scythian tribe dwelling at the foot of Mount Imaus, on the

confines of Thibet.

[8] Ἄφλαστα, apparently the ornamental finishing of the stern.

[9] For the topography of Marathon, the reader may consult Dr.

Clarke’s Travels, and Colonel Leake’s paper on the Demi of Attica,

with advantage. The flying Persians appear to have been entangled and

stopped by a narrow pass, formed by a precipitous hill on one side, and

a deep morass on the other. Hence this disproportionate slaughter.

[10] Lib. i. 32. Herod. lib. vi. c. 105, 120.

[11] Thucyd., ii. 34.

[12] Eubœa is long and very narrow, especially in the southern part,

where Eretria was.

[13] Plato, Menexenus, § 8, 9, 10.

[14] This battle is usually so called, though it is said to have been

fought near Poitiers. The exact locality is by no means certain.

[15] Croniques de St. Denys, liv. v. 26.

[16] Preface to the Chronicle of the Cid.

[17] Introduction to Chronicle of the Cid.

[18] A much more spirited and somewhat different account of the close

of the battle is given from Salvandy, Histoire de Pologne, in the

Foreign Quarterly Review, No. 14. We quote from the Review, not having

been able to procure the original.

“Five o’clock P.M. had sounded, and Sobieski had given up for

the day all hope of the grand struggle, when the provoking composure

of Kara Mustapha, whom he espied in a splendid tent tranquilly taking

coffee with his two sons, roused him to such a pitch that he instantly

gave orders for a general assault. It was made simultaneously on the

wings and centre. He made towards the Pacha’s tent, bearing down all

opposition, and repeating with a loud voice, ‘Non nobis, non nobis,

Domine Exercitium, sed nomini tuo da gloriam!’ ‘Not unto us, Lord God

of Hosts, not unto us, but unto thy name give the praise!’ He was soon

recognised by Tartar and Cossack, who had so often beheld him blazing

in the view of the Polish chivalry; they drew back, while his name

rapidly passed from one extremity to the other of the Ottoman lines, to

the dismay of those who had refused to believe him present. ‘Allah!’

said the Tartar Khan, ‘but the wizard(a) is with them sure enough!’

At that moment the hussars, raising their national cry of ‘God for

Poland!’ cleared a ditch which would long have arrested the infantry,

and dashed into the deep ranks of the enemy. They were a gallant band;

their appearance almost justified the saying of one of their kings,

‘that if the sky itself were to fall, they would bear it up on the

points of their lances.’ The shock was rude, and for some minutes

dreadful; but the valour of the Poles, still more the reputation of

their leader, and more than all, the finger of God, routed these

immense hosts; they gave way on every side, the Khan was borne along

with the stream to the tent of the now despairing Vizir. ‘Canst not

thou help me?’ said Kara Mustapha to the brave Tartar, ‘then I am lost

indeed!’ ‘The Polish king is there!’ replied the other, ‘I know him

well. Did I not tell thee that all we had to do was to get away as

quick as possible?’”—_Foreign Quarterly Review_, No. xiv. p. 511.

(a) The name given him by the Tartars, after a series of

extraordinary victories had fully impressed them with a

belief in his supernatural powers.

[19] Histoire de Jean Sobieski, par l’Abbé Coyer, liv. vi.

[20] Foreign Quarterly Review, No. xiv. Lettres du Roi de Pologne, Jean

Sobieski, à la Reine Marie Casimire, pendant la Campagne de Vienne; par

N. A. de Salvandy.

[21] “Mon frère, je suis bien aise de vous avoir rendu ce petit

service.”

[22] Histoire de Jean Sobieski, par l’Abbé Coyer, liv. vi.

[23] Foreign Quarterly, No. xiv. p. 517.

[24] This observation does not apply to Britain. The English archery

were celebrated long before this period: they however were merely

auxiliary, and were always supported by a strong body of men–at–arms.

The strength of a Scottish army consisted of pikemen, who, when formed

in close order, generally circular, often resisted the utmost efforts

of the English cavalry. The cause of this deviation from the general

usage was probably the poverty of the nation; the nobility could not

afford to maintain large bodies of horsemen. We may observe that

though Wallace was a knight, he appears always to have fought on foot;

at least we have met with no passage, either in the Chronicles or in

Blind Harry, which represents him mounted. Bruce, on the other hand,

was an adept in the arms and exercises of chivalry, and ranked, by the

confession of the English, as the third best knight in Europe, though

far inferior to Wallace in personal strength.

[25] The same sort of instruments are still worn, especially in

traversing the glaciers, and called crampons.

[26] Vitodurani Chronicon.

[27] Cimon, son of Miltiades, after having long conducted the policy of

Athens, was banished owing to the jealousy of his countrymen, it being

supposed that he was unduly attached to the Spartan interest. Previous

to the battle of Tanagra, fought in Bœotia, between the Lacedæmonians

and Athenians, he came to the camp of the latter, and requested

permission to serve with the men of his tribe. This was refused, his

enemies asserting that he wished to sow discord in the army, and he was

ordered to quit the camp. Before his departure he requested Euthippus

and others, his friends, who had shared with him the odium of being

too well inclined to the cause of Sparta, to signalize their zeal

and courage in the ensuing battle, and refute, by their actions, the

stigma cast upon them. These men, to the number of a hundred, ranged

themselves round Cimon’s armour, which they erected as their standard,

and fell valiantly to a man by each other’s side, leaving to the

Athenians much regret and repentance that they had wrongfully accused

them.—_Plut._, _Vit. Cimon._

[28] Simond’s Switzerland, vol. ii. chap, xxxix.

[29] Wordsworth.

[30] Planta, History of the Helvetic Confederacy. We have taken the

liberty of making a few alterations in the text, to bring it nearer to

the great work of Müller, of which this passage is a direct, but rather

a free translation.

[31] Those who have travelled from Conway to Bangor since the new road

was cut, will recollect a spot closely resembling Thermopylæ. The

grandeur of the pass, however, is much injured by the change, and we

strongly recommend all who are not particular about their horses’ knees

or their own necks to take the old road.

[32] The whole force of Platæa served on board the Athenian fleet.

[33] Lib. x. 20.

[34] Plutarch, himself a Bœotian, is highly indignant at this

statement, and also at the former, that the Thebans were detained

as hostages. It must be owned that there is something wanting in

explanation, since it is not clear how they could have been made to

fight, if disinclined; but it seems equally clear that they were very

deficient in that ardour which animated the Spartans and Thespians, and

therefore cannot be supposed to have remained quite voluntarily.

[35] This speech is given by Herodotus to another Spartan, Dieneces,

whom he mentions as famous for his smart sayings. The second is

spurious, if we reject Plutarch’s assertion that the battle was fought

by night.

[36] The epitaph is simple, and therefore in good taste; but we are

bound to expose the braggart spirit which takes no notice of the

Thespians and Locrians, who joined the Peloponnesians, not with a

paltry quota, but with their whole force. We may also observe that

national vanity has been further tampering with the numbers. Herodotus

reckons Xerxes’ land force to consist of 2,100,000 men, and adds

541,610 for the fleet, making a total of 2,641,610 combatants. The

camp–followers of various sorts he supposes may have amounted to an

equal number. Incredible as it appears, his account is so particular

that it has evidently been founded upon numerical data of some sort:

it is hardly possible to estimate the amount of exaggeration and

misstatement.

[37] Planta, Helv. Confed., book ii. cap. 2.

[38] Planta, Hist. Helvetic Confederacy.

[39] Vertot.

[40] In ancient Greece the shield served as a bier, to convey home

the corpse of its slain owner. To return without it was universally

considered disgraceful. “I have frequently seen these inscriptions on

Greek standards, particularly the last: the direction was literally

followed, for the body of the standard–bearer, who died defending it,

was wrapped in it as a shroud, and so borne to the grave, and buried in

it.”—_Walsh’s Journey over–land from Constantinople_, p. 218.

[41] Walsh, Journey over–land from Constantinople, p. 222; Hist. des

Evénemens de la Grèce, par M. Raffenel.

[42] Trick.

[43] Twenty thousand, according to the Cronique de St. Denys.

[44] June 16

[45] Mitford, chap. viii., sect. 4.

[46] All Grecian colonies held the metropolis, or mother city, whence

they were derived, in deep veneration. The Ionian states were founded

by a great migration from Attica, and therefore looked up to the

Athenians as the head of their tribe.

[47] A similar event is related to have occurred at Thebes, before the

battle of Leuctra.

[48] Herod. viii. 37 and 38.

[49] History of Greece, p. 166.

[50] Herod. viii. 60, 62.

[51] Æacus, son of Jupiter and Ægina, was king of the island to which

he gave his mother’s name. From him sprung Peleus and Telamon, with

their descendants Achilles, Pyrrhus, Ajax, &c.

[52] Eleusis was famed for the celebration of mysteries, as they

were called; which consisted in leading the aspirant through various

terrific scenes and representations; after which, if his courage

remained unshaken, he was instructed in a purer and more exalted

system of religion than was openly taught in Greece. Secrecy on the

part of the initiated was most strictly enforced. The immortality of

the soul appears to have been the leading doctrine inculcated in these

ceremonies; which seem traceable to the earliest periods of Grecian

history, and were probably derived from Egypt. The initiated went

yearly in solemn procession from Athens to Eleusis, and chaunted on

these occasions the hymns alluded to.

[53] The correspondence between the above story and the following

Spanish legend is singularly close.—“The night before the battle was

fought at the Navas de Tolosa, in the dead of the night a mighty sound

was heard in the whole city of Leon, as if it had been the tramp of a

whole army passing through: and it went on to the royal monastery of

St. Isidro, and there was great knocking at the gate thereof; and they

called to a priest who was keeping vigil in the church, and told him

that the captains of the army which he heard were the Cid Ruy Diaz, and

Count Ferran Gonzalez; and that they came to call up King Don Fernando

the Great, who lay buried in that church, that he might go with them

to deliver Spain. And on the morrow that great battle of the Navas

de Tolosa was fought, wherein 60,000 of the unbelievers were slain,

which was one of the greatest and noblest battles ever won over the

Moors.”—Chronicle of Cid, xi. 21. It occurred A.D. 1212.

[54] See Col. Leake on the Attic Demi.

[55] In the Persæ, a tragedy written to celebrate the overthrow of

Xerxes, and containing a magnificent description of the battle of

Salamis, of which the poet was an eye–witness, having served in all

the brilliant actions of the Persian war, from Marathon to Platæa. The

passage is too long for the whole to be inserted, but the description

of the first onset of the Greeks may furnish a specimen of its

character.

“But when the white–horsed morn o’er all the earth

Shed her fair splendour, from the Grecian fleet

A mighty sound rose tuneably, to wake

The sleeping Echo, which returned a loud

Heart–cheering answer from the island rock.

Confused the Persians stood; for not for flight

The Greeks rang forth that lofty battle–shout,

But hurrying on rejoicing to the fight

With high–souled valour. Then the trumpet’s clang

Kindled the battle; then the word was given,

And the quick oars with one united stroke

Dashed into spray the salt resounding surge,

And all bore down in sight. The right wing led

First, in fair order; the main armament

Pressed close behind, and all at once sent forth

A mighty shout; ‘On, children of the Greeks,

Set free your country, free your sons, your wives,

The temples of your country’s gods, the tombs

Of your forefathers—this day fights for all.’”

[56] Frontinus, Strategematicon, lib. I. ii. 10. Frontinus wrote

towards the end of the first century of the Christian era, and the

story, as far as we know, is not noticed earlier. It may therefore very

probably be false.

[57] Vasæus, Hispaniæ Chronicon.

[58] Herod., viii. c. 140–144.

[59] The citizens replied to a summons to surrender, that they would

not lack food, while their left arms remained, but feed on them, and

fight for liberty with their right. Strada, de Bello Belgico, lib.

viii. Vaunts of this kind are dangerous: the Leydenists, however, did

no discredit to theirs. It was a maxim of the Maréchal de Grammout,

that a governor who began by making a great to–do, and burnt his

suburbs to make a brilliant defence, generally ended by making a very

bad one. See the Mémoires de Grammont, chap, viii., where there is a

capital story of the gallant defence of Lerida, by Don Gregorio Brice,

bearing upon this point.

[60] Strada says, with an expression of incredulity however, that

by means of this inundation vessels came over–land to Leyden from a

distance of forty miles.

[61] The Dutch annoyed the Spaniards much with sharp hooks fastened

to poles or ropes, by which they drew up the Spaniards into their

shipping. One Peter Borgia was caught up with four hooks into a

vessel holding six or seven men, and supposed to be mortally hurt:

but presently, while they were deeply engaged in fishing for more

men, he caught up a battle–axe, and set on them from behind with

such fury, that he killed three, and frightened the rest overboard,

and thus carried off to the Spanish camp a vessel laden with

provisions.—_Strada_, BELL. BELG. lib. viii.

[62] Bentivoglio, Hist. of Wars in Flanders, Englished by

Henry Earl of Monmouth, 1698.

[63] Watson’s Hist. of Philip II.

[64] Corunna.

[65] This is the classification of the provinces as given by Charnock.

[66] This fleet of Semiramis is probably about as real as Shakspere’s

seacoast of Bohemia. What the amount of Cleopatra’s fleet might be we

do not know; but at Actium she had only 60 ships. In the last example

Stow is within bounds. Froissart says that 1287 ships were prepared on

this occasion. What sort of cock–boats they were is another question.

[67] Draws up for battle.

[68] Robert Bruce was deceived by a similar accident. Having taken

possession of Arran during his long struggle against the power of

England, he meditated a descent upon the opposite country of Carrick,

in Ayrshire, his own inheritance. Being ignorant of the strength and

situation of the English, he despatched a trusty emissary, with orders

to kindle a beacon fire, if he found that a descent was practicable.

A brilliant light was seen on the appointed eve, but on Bruce’s

landing, his emissary met him in much alarm, with news that the English

were quartered in great strength at Turnberry Castle, his maternal

inheritance; and that he knew not how, or by whom, the beacon fire had

been lighted. Bruce however persevered in his enterprise and took the

castle. It was long believed, and perhaps is so still, that the signal

was supernatural, and that it regularly appeared on the anniversary of

the Bruce’s landing on his native shore. The spot on which it was seen

has been called the Bogle’s Brae, beyond the memory of man.

[69] We may repeat what has been before said, that these computations

are merely approximations to expressing the value of the ancient money

in modern denominations, without reference to the intrinsic value of

the precious metals in Greece.

[70] Mitford, chap. vii. 5

[71] Herod. ix. 27.—He says “the Athenians answered.” Plutarch ascribes

all the merit of it to Aristides, which is suitable both to his

character and the rank he held.

[72] Plut., Themist.

[73] Mitford, chap. xi. 1.

[74] This fixes the date of these events to 460. Clinton.

[75] Thucyd. i. 137, 38.

[76] Library of Useful Knowledge: Greece, p. 46.

[77] We cannot with propriety use either of the terms judges or

jurymen; the dicasts were both judge and jury.

[78] Plutarch, Pericles.

[79] Plutarch, North.

[80] Plutarch, Pericles: North.

[81] Library of Useful Knowledge: Hist. of Greece, p. 50.

[82] See the Preliminary Discourse to Mitchell’s Aristophanes, note, p.

liv. xv.

[83] Mitchell, p. lviii.

[84] Mitchell, p. lxxv.

[85] Mitchell, p. lxxvii. lxxxi.

[86] Thucyd. i. 143.

[87] Thucyd. i. 22.

[88] Thucyd. ii. 14.

[89] See Dr. Arnold’s note, Thucyd. ii. 17.

[90] Thucyd. ii. 17.

[91] _κτῆμα ἐς ἀεὶ_, i. 22.

[92] Lib. vi.

[93] Persic. lib. ii.

[94] Kircher, Scrutinium de Peste. He quotes Diodorus (without

reference), and Orosius, book v., as his authorities: the passage in

Diodorus we have not been able to find.

[95] “_Λοιμογραφία_, or an experimental relation of what hath happened

remarkqueable in the last Plague in the city of London, &c. by W.

Boghurst, apothecary in St. Giles’ in ye Feilds: London, 1666: MS.

Sloane, 349.” Our attention was directed to this book as being likely

to contain some curious details of the plague of 1665, but with the

exception of this prefatory matter it is too exclusively medical to

suit our purpose.

[96] “Oecumenical (_ὀικουμενικὸς_, from _ὀικουμένη_), relating to the

whole habitable world.”—_Johnson._

[97] Of Persia.

[98] A pile of wood, which, when they laid the corpse on it they fired,

and afterwards buried the bones.

[99] Apollo, to whom the heathens attributed the immission of all

epidemic or ordinary diseases.

[100] Thucyd. ii. 47, 54. Hobbes’s Translation has been used throughout

the volume; it has been compared with the original, and corrected where

necessary.

[101] It was in name a state democratical, but in fact a government of

the principal man.—Thucyd. ii. 65.

[102] See the analysis of the Knights in chap. iv.

[103] See Thucyd. iii. 87. The Athenian army at the commencement of the

war consisted of 13,000 heavy armed soldiers of the former class, and

1200 horsemen, including the horse archers, who were not citizens. Such

being the mortality of the upper classes, we may safely suppose that a

quarter of the whole population perished.—Thucyd. ii. 13.

[104] See Mitchell’s Preliminary Discourse, p. 74, 84, and the Platonic

Dialogues there quoted. See also the Clouds, especially the concluding

part, and the dialogue between the Logos Dikaios and Logos Adikos.

[105] Evagrius adds to this a greater marvel; that the citizens of

infected places, who were absent from home, sickened and died, even

where no other trace of the plague appeared.

[106] _φάσματα δαιμόνων_

[107] This curious passage may be illustrated from a pamphlet entitled

‘Medela Pestilentiæ, wherein is contained several Theological Queries

concerning the Plague,’ &c., by Richard Kephale. “Some I have talked

with, who have ingenuously confest they, at their first infection, have

felt themselves manifestly stricken, being sensible of a blow suddenly

given them, some on the head and neck, others on the back and side,

&c.; sometimes so violently that they have been as it were knockt down

to the ground, remaining so for a time senseless; whereof some have

died instantly, others in a short time after.”—p. 49. This statement,

however, is not entitled to implicit credit; for it is the writer’s

object to prove the plague a direct infliction from God, without the

intervention of secondary causes. “There are two sorts of plague, the

one simple, the other putrid. The simple plague is the very influence

of the striking angel executing the vengeance of God on the bodies

of men. This kind of plague ariseth from no distemperature of blood,

putrefaction of humours, or influence of stars, but falleth merely from

the stroke of God’s punishing angel.” (Such were the plagues of old, as

you may read in Exod. xii. and Numb. xi. 16, 25; also 2 Sam. xxiv. and

2 Kings xix.)—_Ibid._

[108] This passage is remarkable as being probably the earliest

assertion extant, of any disease known by the name of _plague_ being

uncommunicable by contact. Of all the following accounts of similar

pestilences, the dread of contagion will be found to form one of the

most striking features.

[109] More probably from that burning heat which Thucydides tells us

produced the same effect at Athens.

[110] _ὃυτως αἱτία τις ἦν ὀυδεμία ἐν ταυτῇ τῇ ν̓ σῳ ἐς ἀνθρώπου

λογισμὸν φέρουσα_.

[111] The fig–trees: it included the modern suburbs of Pera and Galata.

[112] For some notice of these singular and virulent factions, see

chap. xiv.

[113] Procopius de Bello Persico, lib. ii, cap. 22, 23.

[114] The geography of this passage is not quite clear. Mare Maggiore

appears to be the Mediterranean, which still retains that name: see the

Vocab. della Crusca. In French, Mer Majeure is the Black Sea, according

to Cotgrave and the Encyclopédie. If we adopt this interpretation,

the author states that the plague spread from Asia to the Black Sea

and the Mare Tirreno, probably the Tyrrhene or Adriatic Sea, and then

returns to trace its progress in the Mediterranean. On the whole, the

former interpretation seems the more probable, though it involves some

repetition. The first gives a general statement of the course which the

disease took from Asia to the coasts of the Mediterranean and Adriatic

seas, and then proceeds to particularise. It seems to have spread

from India through Persia to Syria, Arabia, and Asia Minor (called in

the text Turkey towards Egypt), and from China, or the upper part of

India, through the north of Asia to Russia and Greece. The Levant trade

introduced it into Sicily, Italy, and the west of Africa, whence it

seems to have spread backwards towards Egypt. From Italy it crossed the

mountains, and spread northward, even to Denmark, &c., which indeed

may have received the infection either from their northern or southern

neighbours.

[115] A small town in the province of Languedoc, in the department of

Gard. It was formerly a seaport, and Louis IX. of France twice embarked

from it for the Holy Land, in 1248, 1269. By the gradual accretion of

land at the mouth of the Rhone it is now three leagues from the sea,

in a sandy plain, with unwholesome air, from the quantity of stagnant

water about it.

[116] In France this pestilence is said to have lasted about eight

months in each place which it attacked.—Sismondi, Hist. des Français.

[117] Matteo Villani, lib. i. cap. 1.

[118] Continuatio Nangii, ap: Sismondi.

[119] Sismondi, Histoire des Français.

[120] Ripamonte, De Peste Mediolani, p. 17. From this interesting work

the whole of the following account of the plague of Milan is taken.

[121] The ‘Promessi Sposi’ of Manzoni contains a most vivid and

interesting picture of this portion of the history of Milan.

[122] Ripamonte, book i. If the reader can consult the original, he

will see that the description is not overcharged. The Monatti, he

continued, practised all sorts of insult towards living and dead, and

dragged bodies along as rudely as a butcher drives his calves to the

shambles.

[123] Origine e Giornale successi della Gran Peste. Milan, 1648.

[124] Ripamonte does not tell us whether any body went up into the

belfry to ascertain this.

[125] Alchemist, act ii. scene 3.

[126] Loimologia: a consolatory advice and some brief observations

concerning the present art. By George Thomson, Dr. of Physick, 1665.

[127] Loimologia, or an Historical Account of the Plague in London. By

Nath. Hodges, M.D.

[128] Defoe, pp. 24, 25.

[129] This is a remarkable instance of that air of minute attention to

fidelity which gives such a remarkable air of reality even to those

works of Defoe which are altogether fictitious. Though aware that the

history of the plague is not to be taken as the record of his own

adventures during it, it is hardly possible not to believe that he had

been a hearer of the denunciation, which he is so careful not to report

inaccurately.

[130] Defoe, pp. 28–32.

[131] Pp. 78, 85.

[132] Pp. 110, 112.

[133] Pp. 105, 108.

[134] Pp. 131, 135.

Historical Parallels, vol. 2 of 3) · 第 7 / 7 章