The thoroughfares were deserted, grass sprang green
upon side-paths and steps of dwellings; and the broad street in
Whitechapel became like unto a field. Most houses bore upon
their doors the dread sign of the red cross, with the
supplication for mercy written above. Some of the streets were
barricaded at both ends, the inhabitants either having fled into
the country or been carried to their graves; and it was estimated
in all that over seven thousand dwellings were deserted. All
commerce, save that dealing with the necessaries of life, was
abandoned; the parks forsaken and locked, the Inns of Court
closed, and the public marts abandoned. A few of the church
doors were opened, and some gathered within that they might
humbly beseech pardon for the past, and ask mercy in the present.
But as the violence of the distemper increased, even the houses
of God were forsaken; and those who ventured abroad walked in the
centre of the street, avoiding contact or conversation with
friend or neighbour; each man dreading and avoiding his fellow,
lest he should be to him the harbinger of death. And all
carried rue and wormwood in their hands, and myrrh and zedoary in
their mouths, as protection against infection. Now were the
faces of all pale with apprehension, none knowing when the fatal
malady might carry them hence; and moreover sad, as became those
who stand in the presence of death.
And such sights were to be witnessed day after day as made the
heart sick.
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