I’ve been reading (more like skimming to the juicy parts) the diary of Samuel Pepys, concerning his accounts of the Great Plague of London. Lasting from 1665-1666, the plague killed one-fifth of the population of London (something like 75,000-100,000 people). Today, we’re all pretty sure that the disease was an outbreak of the bubonic fever, with symptoms including fever, headaches, painful aching joints, nausea, vomiting, painful buboes about the groin, armpits and neck that bled and oozed puss and black splotches (a symptom called acral necrosis) covering the body. The disease was generally transmitted by fleas, however the dirty Londoners of the time had no understanding of this, believing that it was spread by unclean air. With a 75% mortality rate, bubonic fever was quite the bitch.

Pepys, who lived in London throughout the plague, described the scene at the time:

“This day, much against my Will, I did in Drury-lane see 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. It put me into an ill conception of myself and my smell, so that I was forced to buy some roll tobacco to smell and to chaw which took away the apprehension.”

“I to Fox-hall, where to the Spring-garden, but I do not see one guest there the town being so empty of anybody to come thither only, while I was there, a poor woman came to scold with the maister of the house that a kinswoman, I think, of hers, that was newly dead of the plague, might be buried in the church yard; for, for her part, she should not be buried in the Commons [plague pits] as they said she should. … I could observe and the streets mighty thin of people.”

“… Mr. Marr telling me by the way how a maid-servant of Mr. John Wrights (who lives thereabouts) falling sick of the plague, she was removed to an out-house, and a nurse appointed to look to her who being at once absent, the maid got out of the house at the window and run away. The nurse coming and knocking, and having no answer, believed she was dead, and went and told Mr. Wright so; who, and his lady, were in great strait what to do to get her buried. At last resolved to go to Burntwood hard by, being in that parish, and there get people to do it but they would not; so he went home full of trouble, and in the way met the wench walking over the Common, which frighted him worse than before. And was forced to send people to take her; which he did, and they got one of the pest Coaches and put her into it to carry her to a pest-house. And passing in a narrow lane, Sir Anthony Browne, with his brother and some friends in the coach, met this coach with the Curtains drawn close. The brother being a young man, and believing there might be some lady in it that would not be see, and the way being narrow, he thrust his head out of his own into her coach to look, and there saw somebody look very ill, and in a sick dress and stunk mightily; which the coachman also cried out upon. And presently they came up to some people that stood looking after it; and told our gallants that it was a maid of Mr. Wrights carried away sick of the plague which put the young gentleman into a fright had almost cost him his life, but is now well again.”

“… The people die so, that now it seems they are fain to carry the dead to be buried by daylight, the nights not sufficing to do it in. And my Lord Mayor commands people to be within at 9 at night, all (as they say) that the sick may have liberty to go abroad for ayre. There is one also dead out of one of our ships at Deptford, which troubles us mightily the Providence fire-ship, which was just fitted to go to sea. But they tell me today, no more sick on board. And this day W. Bodham tells me that one is dead at Woolwich, not far from the Ropeyard. I am told too, that a wife of one of the groomes at Court is dead at Salsbury, so that the King and Queene are speedily to be all gone to Milton. God preserve us.”

“… I went away and walked to Greenwich, in my way seeing a coffin with a dead body therein, dead of the plague, lying in an open close belonging to Coome farme, which was carried out last night and the parish hath not appointed anybody to bury it but only set a watch there day and night, that nobody should go thither or come thence, which is a most cruel thing this disease making us more cruel to one another then we are [to] dogs.”

“…Thus the month ends, with the plague, everywhere through the Kingdom almost. Every day sadder and sadder news of its encrease. In the City died this week 7496; and of them 6102 of the plague. But it is feared the true number of the dead this week is near 10000 partly from the poor that cannot be taken notice through the greatness of the number, and partly from the Quakers and others that will not have any bell ring for them.”

“… [meeting of the vestry to determine] doing something for the keeping of the plague from growing; but Lord, to consider the madness of people of the town, who will (because they are forbid) come in Crowds along with the dead Corps to see them buried. But we agreed on some orders for the prevention thereof. Among other stories, one was very passionate methought of a complaint brought against a man in the town for taking a child from London from an infected house. Alderman Hooker told us it was the child of a very able citizen in Gracious-street, a saddler, who had buried all the rest of his children of the plague; and himself and wife now being shut up, and in despair of escaping, did desire only to save the life of this little child; and so prevailed to have it received stark-naked into the arms of a friend, who brought it (having put it into new fresh clothes) to Grenwich; where, upon hearing the story, we did agree it should be (permitted to be) received and kept in the town.”

Awesome. Bring out your dead.