they were in other places; for when it came among them really and
with violence, as it did indeed in September and October, there was
then no stirring out into the country, nobody would suffer a stranger to
come near them, no, nor near the towns where they dwelt; and, as I
have been told, several that wandered into the country on Surrey side
were found starved to death in the woods and commons, that country
being more open and more woody than any other part so near London,
especially about Norwood and the parishes of Camberwell, Dullege,
and Lusum, where, it seems, nobody durst relieve the poor distressed
people for fear of the infection.
This notion having, as I said, prevailed with the people in that part
of the town, was in part the occasion, as I said before, that they had
recourse to ships for their retreat; and where they did this early and
with prudence, furnishing themselves so with provisions that they had
no need to go on shore for supplies or suffer boats to come on board
to bring them, – I say, where they did so they had certainly the safest
retreat of any people whatsoever; but the distress was such that people
ran on board, in their fright, without bread to eat, and some into ships
that had no men on board to remove them farther off, or to take the
boat and go down the river to buy provisions where it might be done
safely, and these often suffered and were infected on board as much as
on shore.
As the richer sort got into ships, so the lower rank got into hoys,
smacks, lighters, and fishing-boats; and many, especially watermen,
lay in their boats; but those made sad work of it, especially the latter,
for, going about for provision, and perhaps to get their subsistence, the
infection got in among them and made a fearful havoc; many of the
watermen died alone in their wherries as they rid at their roads, as
well as above bridge as below, and were not found sometimes till they
were not in condition for anybody to touch or come near them.
Indeed, the distress of the people at this seafaring end of the town
was very deplorable, and deserved the greatest commiseration. But,
alas I this was a time when every one’s private safety lay so near them
that they had no room to pity the distresses of others; for every one
had death, as it were, at his door, and many even in their families, and
knew not what to do or whither to fly.
This, I say, took away all compassion; self-preservation, indeed,
appeared here to be the first law. For the children ran away from their
parents as they languished in the utmost distress. And in some places,
though not so frequent as the other, parents did the like to their
children; nay, some dreadful examples there were, and particularly
two in one week, of distressed mothers, raving and distracted, killing
their own children; one whereof was not far off from where I dwelt,
the poor lunatic creature not living herself long enough to be sensible
of the sin of what she had done, much less to be punished for it.
It is not, indeed, to be wondered at: for the danger of immediate
death to ourselves took away all bowels of love, all concern for one
another. I speak in general, for there were many instances of
immovable affection, pity, and duty in many, and some that came to
my knowledge, that is to say, by hearsay; for I shall not take upon me
to vouch the truth of the particulars.
To introduce one, let me first mention that one of the most
deplorable cases in all the present calamity was that of women with
child, who, when they came to the hour of their sorrows, and their
pains come upon them, could neither have help of one kind or
another; neither midwife or neighbouring women to come near them.
Most of the midwives were dead, especially of such as served the
poor; and many, if not all the midwives of note, were fled into the