by Daniel Defoe
speakvery well of them; the consequence of which was, that upon the occasionof a very wet, rainy night, a certain gentleman who lived in theneighborhood sent them a little cart with twelve trusses or bundles ofstraw, as well for them to lodge upon as to cover and thatch their huts,and to keep them dry. The minister of a parish not far off, not knowingof the other, sent them also about two bushels of wheat and half abushel of white pease.
They were very thankful, to be sure, for this relief, and particularlythe straw was a very great comfort to them; for though the ingeniouscarpenter had made them frames to lie in, like troughs, and filled themwith leaves of trees and such things as they could get, and had cut alltheir tent cloth out to make coverlids, yet they lay damp and hard andunwholesome till this straw came, which was to them like feather beds,and, as John said, more welcome than feather beds would have been atanother time.
This gentleman and the minister having thus begun, and given an exampleof charity to these wanderers, others quickly followed; and theyreceived every day some benevolence or other from the people, butchiefly from the gentlemen who dwelt in the country round about. Somesent them chairs, stools, tables, and such household things as they gavenotice they wanted. Some sent them blankets, rugs, and coverlids; some,earthenware; and some, kitchen ware for ordering[203] their food.
Encouraged by this good usage, their carpenter, in a few days, builtthem a large shed or house with rafters, and a roof in form, and anupper floor, in which they lodged warm, for the weather began to be dampand cold in the beginning of September; but this house being very wellthatched, and the sides and roof very thick, kept out the cold wellenough. He made also an earthen wall at one end, with a chimney in it;and another of the company, with a vast deal of trouble and pains, madea funnel to the chimney to carry out the smoke.
Here they lived comfortably, though coarsely, till the beginning ofSeptember, when they had the bad news to hear, whether true or not, thatthe plague, which was very hot at Waltham Abbey on the one side, andRumford and Brentwood on the other side, was also come to Epping, toWoodford, and to most of the towns upon the forest; and which, as theysaid, was brought down among them chiefly by the higglers,[204] and suchpeople as went to and from London with provisions.
If this was true, it was an evident contradiction to the report whichwas afterwards spread all over England, but which, as I have said, Icannot confirm of my own knowledge, namely, that the market peoplecarrying provisions to the city never got the infection or carried itback into the country; both which, I have been assured, has been[205]false.
It might be that they were preserved even beyond expectation, though notto a miracle;[206] that abundance went and came and were not touched;and that was much encouragement for the poor people of London, who hadbeen completely miserable if the people that brought provisions to themarkets had not been many times wonderfully preserved, or at least morepreserved than could be reasonably expected.
But these new inmates began to be disturbed more effectually, for thetowns about them were really infected. And they began to be afraid totrust one another so much as to go abroad for such things as theywanted; and this pinched them very hard, for now they had little ornothing but what the charitable gentlemen of the country supplied themwith. But, for their encouragement, it happened that other gentlemen ofthe country, who had not sent them anything before, began to hear ofthem and supply them. And one sent them a large pig, that is to say, aporker; another, two sheep; and another sent them a calf: in short, theyhad meat enough, and sometimes had cheese and milk, and such things.They were chiefly put to it[207] for bread; for when the gentlemen sentthem corn, they had nowhere to bake it or to grind it. This made themeat the first two bushels of wheat that was sent them, in parched corn,as the Israelites of old did, without grinding or making bread ofit.[208]
At last they found means to carry their corn to a windmill nearWoodford, where they had it ground; and afterwards the biscuit bakermade a hearth so hollow and dry, that he could bake biscuit cakestolerably well, and thus they came into a condition to live without anyassistance or supplies from the towns. And it was well they did; for thecountry was soon after fully infected, and about a hundred and twentywere said to have died of the distemper in the villages near them, whichwas a terrible thing to them.
On this they called a new council, and now the towns had no need to beafraid they should settle near them; but, on the contrary, severalfamilies of the poorer sort of the inhabitants quitted their houses, andbuilt huts in the forest, after the same manner as they had done. But itwas observed that several of these poor people that had so removed hadthe sickness even in their huts or booths, the reason of which wasplain: namely, not because they removed into the air, but[209] becausethey did not remove time[210] enough, that is to say, not till, byopenly conversing with other people, their neighbors, they had thedistemper upon them (or, as may be said, among them), and so carried itabout with them whither they went; or (2) because they were not carefulenough, after they were safely removed out of the towns, not to come inagain and mingle with the diseased people.
But be it which of these it will, when our travelers began to perceivethat the plague was not only in the towns, but even in the tents andhuts on the forest near them, they began then not only to be afraid, butto think of decamping and removing; for, had they staid, they would havebeen in manifest danger of their lives.
It is not to be wondered that they were greatly afflicted at beingobliged to quit the place where they had been so kindly received, andwhere they had been treated with so much humanity and charity; butnecessity, and the hazard of life which they came out so far topreserve, prevailed with them, and they saw no remedy. John, however,thought of a remedy for their present misfortune; namely, that he wouldfirst acquaint that gentleman who was their principal benefactor withthe distress they were in, and to[211] crave his assistance and advice.
This good charitable gentleman encouraged them to quit the place, forfear they should be cut off from any retreat at all by the violence ofthe distemper; but whither they should go, that he found very hard todirect them to. At last John asked of him, whether he, being a justiceof the peace, would give them certificates of health to other justiceswho[212] they might come before, that so, whatever might be their lot,they might not be repulsed, now they had been also so long from London.This his worship immediately granted, and gave them proper letters ofhealth; and from thence they were at liberty to travel whither theypleased.
Accordingly they had a full certificate of health, intimating that theyhad resided in a village in the county of Essex so long; that, beingexamined and scrutinized sufficiently, and having been retired from allconversation[213] for above forty days, without any appearance ofsickness, they were therefore certainly concluded to be sound men, andmight be safely entertained anywhere, having at last removed rather forfear of the plague, which was come into such a town, rather[214] thanfor having any signal of infection upon them, or upon any belonging tothem.
With this certificate they removed, though with great reluctance; and,John inclining not to go far from home, they removed towards the marsheson the side of Waltham. But here they found a man who, it seems, kept aweir or stop upon the river, made to raise water for the barges which goup and down the river; and he terrified them with dismal stories of thesickness having been spread into all the towns on the river and near theriver, on the side of Middlesex and Hertfordshire (that is to say, intoWaltham, Waltham Cross, Enfield, and Ware, and all the towns on theroad), that they were afraid to go that way; though it seems the manimposed upon them, for that[215] the thing was not really true.
However, it terrified them, and they resolved to move across the foresttowards Rumford and Brentwood; but they heard that there were numbers ofpeople fled out of London that way, who lay up and down in the forest,reaching near Rumford, and who, having no subsistence or habitation, notonly lived oddly,[216] and suffered great extremities in the woods andfields for want of relief, but were said to be made so desperate bythose e
xtremities, as that they offered many violences to the country,robbed and plundered, and killed cattle, and the like; and others,building huts and hovels by the roadside, begged, and that with animportunity next door to demanding relief: so that the country was veryuneasy, and had been obliged to take some of them up.
This, in the first place, intimated to them that they would be sure tofind the charity and kindness of the county, which they had found herewhere they were before, hardened and shut up against them; and that, onthe other hand, they would be questioned wherever they came, and wouldbe in danger of violence from others in like cases with themselves.
Upon all these considerations, John, their captain, in all their names,went back to their good friend and benefactor who had relieved thembefore, and, laying their case truly before him, humbly asked hisadvice; and he as kindly advised them to take up their old quartersagain, or, if not, to remove but a little farther out of the road, anddirected them to a proper place for them. And as they
