Burial and the dead
How the dead were buried, mourned or left unburied: graves and funeral rites, and what became of them when an epidemic overwhelmed the living.
The Plague at Athens, and Pericles Answers the Athenians
Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War, Book 2 (sections 47–65) · after 430 BCE (events of 430–429 BCE)
γενόμενον γὰρ κρεῖσσον λόγου τὸ εἶδος τῆς νόσου τά τε ἄλλα χαλεπωτέρως ἢ κατὰ τὴν ἀνθρωπείαν φύσιν προσέπιπτεν ἑκάστῳ καὶ ἐν τῷδε ἐδήλωσε μάλιστα ἄλλο τι ὂν ἢ τῶν ξυντρόφων τι· τὰ γὰρ ὄρνεα καὶ τετράποδα ὅσα ἀνθρώπων ἅπτεται, πολλῶν ἀτάφων γιγνομένων ἢ οὐ προσῄει ἢ γευσάμενα διεφθείρετο.
The nature of the disease was beyond words. In every way it struck each victim more cruelly than human nature can bear. And in one way above all it showed that it was unlike any familiar illness. Though many bodies lay unburied, the birds and animals that feed on human flesh either stayed away or died after tasting them.
νόμοι τε πάντες ξυνεταράχθησαν οἷς ἐχρῶντο πρότερον περὶ τὰς ταφάς, ἔθαπτον δὲ ὡς ἕκαστος ἐδύνατο. καὶ πολλοὶ ἐς ἀναισχύντους θήκας ἐτράποντο σπάνει τῶν ἐπιτηδείων διὰ τὸ συχνοὺς ἤδη προτεθνάναι σφίσιν· ἐπὶ πυρὰς γὰρ ἀλλοτρίας φθάσαντες τοὺς νήσαντας οἱ μὲν ἐπιθέντες τὸν ἑαυτῶν νεκρὸν ὑφῆπτον, οἱ δὲ καιομένου ἄλλου ἐπιβαλόντες ἄνωθεν ὃν φέροιεν ἀπῇσαν.
All the customs they had once followed for burials were thrown into confusion, and each family buried its dead however it could. So many in their households had already died that many families ran short of what they needed and turned to shameless kinds of burial. Some would arrive first at a pyre that others had built, lay their own dead on it, and set it alight. Others would throw the body they were carrying onto a pyre that was already burning, and walk away.
ὅσον δὲ χρόνον οἵ τε Πελοποννήσιοι ἦσαν ἐν τῇ γῇ τῇ Ἀθηναίων καὶ οἱ Ἀθηναῖοι ἐστράτευον ἐπὶ τῶν νεῶν, ἡ νόσος ἔν τε τῇ στρατιᾷ τοὺς Ἀθηναίους ἔφθειρε καὶ ἐν τῇ πόλει, ὥστε καὶ ἐλέχθη τοὺς Πελοποννησίους δείσαντας τὸ νόσημα, ὡς ἐπυνθάνοντο τῶν αὐτομόλων ὅτι ἐν τῇ πόλει εἴη καὶ θάπτοντας ἅμα ᾐσθάνοντο, θᾶσσον ἐκ τῆς γῆς ἐξελθεῖν.
The whole time the Peloponnesians were in Athenian territory, and the Athenians were away with their fleet, the sickness kept killing Athenians, both in the army and in the city. It was even said that the Peloponnesians left the country sooner because they feared the disease: deserters told them it was in the city, and they could see the Athenians burying their dead.
The Plague as a Test: A Bishop's Sermon at Carthage
Cyprian, "On the Mortality" (De mortalitate), sections 8–20 · c. 252–253 (during the epidemic at Carthage)
Nobis quoque ipsis minimis et extremis quotiens reuelatum est, quam frequenter adque manifeste de Dei dignatione praeceptum est, ut contestarer adsidue, ut publice praedicarem fratres nostros non esse lugendos arcessitione dominica de saeculo liberatos, cum sciamus non amitti sed praemitti, recedentes praecedere, ut proficiscentes, ut nauigantes solent, desiderari eos debere, non plangi nec accipiendas esse hic atras uestes, quando illi ibi indumenta alba iam sumpserint, occasionem dandam non esse gentilibus, ut nos merito ac iure reprehendant, quod quos uiuere aput Deum dicimus ut extinctos et perditos lugeamus et fidem quam sermone et uoce depromimus cordis et pectoris testimonio non probemus.
And to me, too, the least and lowest of all, how often this has been revealed! How often and how clearly God in his kindness has commanded me to bear witness constantly and to preach in public that our brothers whom the Lord's summons has set free from the world must not be mourned. For we know they are not lost; they are sent on ahead. In leaving us, they go before us. We should miss them as we miss travelers, or people who have set sail, but not wail over them. We should not put on black clothes here when they have already put on white robes there. We must not give the pagans good reason to blame us. They would be right and just to blame us if we mourned as dead and lost the very people we declare to be alive with God, and if the witness of our hearts did not prove the faith we profess with our words.
The Plague at Constantinople
Procopius, History of the Wars, Book 2 (chapters 22–23) · c. 550 (events of 542; Books 1–7 made public in 551 at the earliest)
διὸ δὴ ἅπαντες αὐτοὺς οὐχ ἧσσον ἢ τοὺς πονουμένους ᾠκτίζοντο, οὐχ ὅτι τῷ λοιμῷ ἐπιέζοντο ἐκ τοῦ προσιέναι (οὔτε γὰρ ἰατρῷ οὔτε ἰδιώτῃ μεταλαχεῖν τοῦ κακοῦ τοῦδε τῶν νοσούντων ἢ τῶν τετελευτηκότων ἁπτομένῳ ξυνέβη, ἐπεὶ πολλοὶ μὲν ἀεὶ καὶ τοὺς οὐδὲν σφίσι προσήκοντας ἢ θάπτοντες ἢ θεραπεύοντες ταύτῃ δὴ τῇ ὑπουργίᾳ παρὰ δόξαν ἀντεῖχον, πολλοὶ δὲ τῆς νόσου ἀπροφασίστως αὐτοῖς ἐπιπεσούσης εὐθὺς ἔθνησκον), ἀλλ’ ὅτι ταλαιπωρίᾳ πολλῇ εἴχοντο.
So everyone pitied the nurses as much as the sick. It was not that the nurses caught the plague by coming near the sick. (No doctor or anyone else caught this disease by touching the sick or the dead. Many people who kept burying or nursing even strangers held out in that work against all expectation. Meanwhile, many others fell sick for no visible reason and died at once.) People pitied the nurses because of the great hardship they endured.
τὰ μὲν οὖν πρῶτα τῆς ταφῆς αὐτὸς ἕκαστος ἐπεμελεῖτο τῶν κατὰ τὴν οἰκίαν νεκρῶν, οὓς δὴ καὶ ἐς ἀλλοτρίας θήκας ἐρρίπτουν ἢ λανθάνοντες ἢ βιαζόμενοι· ἔπειτα δὲ πάντα ἐν ἅπασι ξυνεταράχθη.
At first each person took charge of burying the dead of his own household. Some even threw their dead into other families' tombs, either secretly or by force. But after that, everything everywhere fell into chaos.
διὸ δὴ ξυνέβη τισὶ τῶν γνωρίμων τῇ ἀπορίᾳ ἡμέρας πολλὰς ἀτάφοις εἶναι. Ἔς τε βασιλέα ἡ τοῦ πράγματος πρόνοια,
Because of this, some prominent people lay unburied for many days, since there was no one to bury them. The task of dealing with the problem fell to the emperor,
οἷς μὲν οὖν οὔπω παντάπασιν ἐς ἐρημίαν ἐμπεπτωκότα τὰ κατὰ τὴν οἰκίαν ἐτύγχανεν, αὐτοὶ ἕκαστοι τὰς τῶν προσηκόντων ἐποιοῦντο ταφάς.
Those whose households had not yet been completely emptied buried their own relatives themselves.
Θεόδωρος δὲ τά τε βασιλέως διδοὺς χρήματα καὶ τὰ οἰκεῖα προσαναλίσκων τοὺς ἀπημελημένους τῶν νεκρῶν ἔθαπτεν.
Theodore, handing out the emperor's money and spending his own as well, buried the dead whom no one had cared for.
ἐπεὶ δὲ τὰς θήκας ἁπάσας αἳ πρότερον ἦσαν ἐμπίπλασθαι τῶν νεκρῶν ἔτυχεν, οἱ δὲ ὀρύσσοντες ἅπαντα ἐφεξῆς τὰ ἀμφὶ τὴν πόλιν χωρία, ἐνταῦθά τε τοὺς θνήσκοντας κατατιθέμενοι, ὡς ἕκαστός πη ἐδύνατο, ἀπηλλάσσοντο, ἔπειτα δὲ οἱ τὰς κατώρυχας ταύτας ποιούμενοι πρὸς τῶν ἀποθνησκόντων τὸ μέτρον οὐκέτι ἀντέχοντες, ἐς τοὺς πύργους τοῦ περιβόλου ἀνέβαινον ὃς ἐν Συκαῖς ἐστι·
When all the existing tombs were full, people dug up every spot around the city, one after another, laid the dead there as best they could, and went away. Later, though, the men digging these trenches could no longer keep pace with all the dying. So they climbed up into the towers of the wall at Sycae.
Πάντα τε ὑπερώφθη τότε τὰ περὶ τὰς ταφὰς νόμιμα. οὔτε γὰρ παραπεμπόμενοι ᾗ νενόμισται οἱ νεκροὶ ἐκομίζοντο οὔτε καταψαλλόμενοι ἧπερ εἰώθει, ἀλλ’ ἱκανὸν ἦν, εἰ φέρων τις ἐπὶ τῶν ὤμων τῶν τετελευτηκότων τινὰ ἔς τε τῆς πόλεως τὰ ἐπιθαλάσσια ἐλθὼν ἔρριψεν, οὗ δὴ ταῖς ἀκάτοις ἐμβαλλόμενοι σωρηδὸν ἔμελλον ὅπη παρατύχοι κομίζεσθαι.
All the usual burial rites were ignored at that time. The dead were not escorted in a procession, as custom required, or sung over with the usual psalms. It was enough if someone carried a dead person on his shoulders to the part of the city by the sea and threw the body down there. From there the bodies were tossed into boats in heaps, to be carried off wherever chance might take them.
τότε καὶ τοῦ δήμου ὅσοι στασιῶται πρότερον ἦσαν, ἔχθους τοῦ ἐς ἀλλήλους ἀφέμενοι τῆς τε ὁσίας τῶν τετελευτηκότων κοινῇ ἐπεμέλοντο καὶ φέροντες αὐτοὶ τοὺς οὐ προσήκοντας σφίσι νεκροὺς ἔθαπτον.
At that time, too, the people who had been members of the factions put aside their hatred for one another. Together they saw to the rites owed to the dead, and with their own hands they carried and buried bodies that were nothing to them.
The Great Epidemic of 735–737
Court historians, Chronicles of Japan, Continued (Shoku Nihongi), Book 12 · 735–737 (entries); compiled by 797
○辛酉。参議民部卿正三位藤原朝臣房前薨。送以大臣葬儀。其家固辞不受。房前、贈太政大臣正一位不比等之第二子也。
Fourth month, seventeenth day. Fujiwara no Fusasaki, Councilor and Minister of People’s Affairs, died. He was to be given a minister’s funeral, but his family firmly declined it. Fusasaki was the second son of Fuhito, who was named Chancellor after his death.
○壬辰。詔曰。四月以来。疫旱並行、田苗燋萎。由是。祈祷山川。奠祭神祇。未得効験。至今猶苦。朕以不徳、実致茲災。思布寛仁、以救民患。宜令国郡審録寃獄。掩骼埋胔。禁酒断屠。高年之徒。鰥寡惸独。及京内僧尼男女。臥疾不能自存者。量加賑給。又普賜文武職事以上物。大赦天下。[...]
Nineteenth day. The emperor said: “Since the fourth month, epidemic and drought have come together, and the rice seedlings in the fields have scorched and withered. So we have prayed to the mountains and rivers and made offerings to the kami. But we have seen no result, and even now the people are suffering. Truly it is my lack of virtue that has brought this disaster. I wish to spread kindness and mercy, to save the people from their troubles. Let the provinces and districts review the cases of people wrongly imprisoned. Let them cover exposed bones and bury the rotting dead. Let wine be forbidden and the slaughter of animals stopped. As for the aged, widowers and widows, orphans and the childless old, and the monks, nuns, men, and women of the capital who lie sick and cannot support themselves, give them relief as each one needs. Let gifts also be given to all civil and military officials who hold posts. I declare a general amnesty throughout the realm.”
○丁酉。勅、遣左大弁従三位橘宿禰諸兄。右大弁正四位紀朝臣男人。就右大臣第。授正一位、拝左大臣。即日薨。遣従四位下中臣朝臣名代等、監護喪事。所須官給。武智麻呂、贈太政大臣不比等之第一子也。
Twenty-fifth day. The emperor sent Tachibana no Moroe, Controller of the Left, and Ki no Ohito, Controller of the Right, to the house of the Minister of the Right. There they granted him the highest court rank and appointed him Minister of the Left. He died that same day. Nakatomi no Nashiro and others were sent to oversee the funeral, and the government supplied whatever was needed. Muchimaro was the eldest son of Fuhito, who was named Chancellor after his death.
The Plague Goes Town by Town
Ibn al-Wardi, The Report of the Pestilence, from his chronicle (Aleppo, 1348) · 1348 (the essay); the chronicle entries 1346–1349
فلقد كثرت فيها أرزاق الجنائزية فلا رزقوا، وعاشوا بهذا الموسم وعرقوا من الحمل، فلا عاشوا ولا عرقوا، فهم يلهون ويلعبون، ويتقاعدون على الزبون.
The funeral workers have made a fine living in Aleppo. May they get nothing from it! They have lived off this season and sweated from carrying [the dead]. May they neither live nor sweat! They amuse themselves and play, and they keep the customer waiting.
The Plague Comes to Messina and Catania
Anonymous of Catania, Sicilian History, printed in Rosario Gregorio’s Bibliotheca scriptorum (1791) · after April 1348 (events of October 1347 to April 1348)
Quid ultra? cadavera stabant sola in hospitiis propriis, nullus Sacerdos, filius, sive pater, atque consanguineus ausus erat in eisdem intrare, sed tribuebant bastasiis non modicam pensionem pro cadaveribus in sepultura deferendis predictis. Hospitia defunctorum remanebant aperta, & patentia cum omnibus jocalibus, pecunia, & thesauris; adeo ut si quis ingredi vellet, aditus a nullo proibitus erat.
What more is there to say? Corpses lay alone in their own houses. No priest, son, father, or other relative dared to go in. Instead they paid porters good money to carry the bodies to burial. The houses of the dead stood wide open, with all their jewels, money, and valuables. Anyone who wished could walk in, and no one stopped him.
Qui venientes in civitatem Catanie vitam eorum in hospitiis exalabant, & in tantum Messanensium in civitate Catanie crevit mortalitas, quod ad postulationem Cataniensium civium ordinatum extitit per Dominum Patriarcham, quod nullus Messanensis aliquo modo sub excomunicationis pena sit inter civitatem sepultus, immo extra in sepulcris bene profundis sepeliantur.
Those who reached the city of Catania breathed their last in lodging houses. So many people from Messina died in Catania that the citizens asked the Patriarch to act. He ordered, on pain of excommunication, that no one from Messina was to be buried inside the city. They were to be buried outside, in very deep graves.
I Buried My Five Children with My Own Hands
Agnolo di Tura, Chronicle of Siena, printed in Muratori’s Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, vol. 15 (1729) · 1348 or soon after
El Padre a pena stava a vedere il figliuolo; l'uno fratello l'altro fuggiva; la Moglie il Marito abbandonava, perciochè si diceva, che s'appiccava questa malattia nel mirare, e nell'alito; e così fu vero, che morì tante genti del mese di Maggio, di Giugno, e di Luglio, e d'Agosto, che non si trovava chi li volesse sopellire per denari. Parentado, nè Amistà, nè Prete, nè Frate andava con essi, nè Offizio si diceva.
A father would hardly stay to look at his son. Brother fled from brother. Wives abandoned their husbands, because people said this sickness was caught by looking at the sick and by their breath. And it was true. So many people died in May, June, July, and August that no one could be found to bury them, even for money. No relative, no friend, no priest or friar went with the dead, and no funeral office was said.
Anco colui, a cui moriva l'Attenente, uscito il fiato, sel pigliava o di dì, o di notte, e con due o tre il portavano alla Chiesa; e essi medesimi, dove più tosto potevano, il sotterravano meglio che potevano, e ricoprivano con poca terra, che cani nol mangiassero. E in molti luoghi della Città si fece fosse grandissime di larghezza, e cupe, e poi vi si mettevano dentro i Corpi, gittandoli dentro, e coprivansi con poca terra; e poi vi si mettevano altri corpi assai, e poi si coprivano di terra; e così si faceva a suolo a suolo, tanto che la fossa fusse piena; e da poi si faceva l'altra.
When someone’s relative died, as soon as the breath was gone, he picked up the body himself, by day or by night. With two or three others he carried it to the church. There they buried it themselves, wherever they could do it soonest and as best they could, and covered it with a little earth so the dogs would not eat it. In many parts of the city, very wide and deep pits were dug. The bodies were thrown into them and covered with a little earth. Then many more bodies were put in and covered with earth. This was done layer upon layer until the pit was full, and then another was dug.
E io Agniolo di Tura, detto Grasso, sotterrai cinque miei figliuoli in una fossa con le mie mani; e così fecero molti altri il simile; e anco furon di quelli, che erano sì mal coperti, che' cani ne traevano, e mangiavano di molti corpi per la Città. E non sonavano Campane, e non si piangeva persona, fusse di che danno si volesse, che quasi ogni persona aspettava la morte; e per sì fatto modo andava la cosa, che la gente non credeva, che nissuno ne rimanesse, e molti huomini credevano, e dicevano, questo è fine Mondo.
And I, Agnolo di Tura, called the Fat, buried five of my children in one pit with my own hands. Many others did the same. Some bodies were covered so poorly that the dogs dragged them out and ate many corpses all over the city. No bells were rung. No one was mourned, whatever the loss, because almost everyone was waiting for death. Things went so far that people did not believe anyone would be left alive. Many men believed it, and said, “This is the end of the world.”
To Himself, in the Plague Year
Petrarch, Letters in Verse 1.14, “To Himself,” edited by Domenico Rossetti (1831) · 1348
Funera crebra quidem, quocunque paventia flecto
Lumina, conturbant aciem: perplexa feretris
Templa gemunt, passimque simul sine honore cadaver
Nobile plebeiumque iacet. Subit ultima vitae
Hora animum; casusque meos meminisse coactus,
Heu! charos abiisse greges, et amica retracto
Colloquia, et dulces subito vanescere vultus,
Telluremque sacram assiduis non deesse sepulchris.
Wherever I turn my frightened eyes, funeral after funeral troubles my sight. The churches groan, crowded with coffins. Everywhere the bodies of nobles and commoners lie together, without honor. The last hour of life comes into my mind. I am forced to remember what has befallen me. Alas, I think of the dear company of friends now gone, of our friendly talks, of beloved faces suddenly vanishing, and of the holy ground that never lacks new graves.
The Plague in the Bishop of Rochester’s Household
William Dene (attributed), History of the Church of Rochester, printed in Henry Wharton’s Anglia Sacra (1691) · soon after the events of 1348–1349
Post mortem Archiepiscopi Papa ad preces Domini Regis M. Johanni de Offord ejus Cancellario Archiepiscopatum dedit, viro debili & paralitico; qui pecuniam magnam undique mutuans ad magnam summam, inutiliter Papam eam exeniavit & presentavit, & totam perdidit; quia non multùm pòst vixit, sed die Ascensionis Domini obiit, & in Ecclesiâ Cant. est occultè sepultus, electus non consecratus; & sic multos creditores depauperando destruxit.
After the archbishop's death, the pope, at the king's request, gave the archbishopric to Master John de Offord, the king's chancellor, a weak and paralyzed man. He borrowed large sums of money from everyone and spent it uselessly on gifts and payments to the pope, and lost it all. For he did not live long afterward. He died on Ascension Day and was buried secretly in Canterbury Cathedral, elected but never consecrated. And so he ruined many creditors and left them poor.
O Happy People of the Future
Petrarch, Letters on Familiar Matters 8.7, edited by Giuseppe Fracassetti (1859) · 1349
Credet ista posteritas, cum ipsi qui vidimus vix credamus, somnia credituri, nisi experrecti apertis haec oculis cerneremus, et lustrata urbe funeribus suis plena, domum reversi, exoptatis pignoribus vacuam illam reperientes, sciremus utique vera esse quae gemimus? O felicem populum pronepotum, qui has miserias non agnovit, et fortassis testimonium nostrum inter fabulas numerabit!
Will the people of the future believe it, when we who saw it can hardly believe it ourselves? We would think it a dream, if we were not awake and seeing it with open eyes. We walk through a city full of funerals and come home to find it empty of the loved ones we longed for. Only then do we know that what we mourn is true. O happy people of the future, who have not known these miseries, and who will perhaps count our testimony among fables!
The Pestilence Comes to Florence, 1348
Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron, Introduction to the First Day, edited by Pietro Fanfani (1888) · about 1349–1353 (events of 1348)
Era usanza (sì come ancora oggi veggiamo usare) che le donne parenti e vicine nella casa del morto si ragunavano, e quivi con quelle che più gli appartenevano piangevano; e d'altra parte dinanzi alla casa del morto co' suoi prossimi si ragunavano i suoi vicini et altri cittadini assai, e secondo la qualità del morto vi veniva il chericato, et egli sopra gli omeri de' suoi pari, con funeral pompa di cera e di canti, alla chiesa da lui prima eletta anzi la morte, n'era portato. Le quali cose, poiché a montar cominciò la ferocità della pistolenza, o in tutto o in maggior parte quasi cessarono, et altre nuove in loro luogo ne sopravvennero. Per ciò che, non solamente senza aver molte donne da torno morivan le genti, ma assai n'erano di quelli che di questa vita senza testimonio trapassavano; e pochissimi erano coloro a' quali i pietosi pianti e l'amare lagrime de' suoi congiunti fossero concedute; anzi in luogo di quelle s'usavano per li più risa e motti e festeggiar compagnevole: la quale usanza le donne, in gran parte posposta la donnesca pietà, per salute di loro avevano ottimamente appresa.
It was the custom, as we still see today, for the women among the relatives and neighbors to gather in the house of the dead man and weep there with his closest family. Outside the house, the dead man’s neighbors and many other citizens gathered with his kin. Clergy came, as many as befitted his rank. His equals carried him on their shoulders, with a funeral procession of candles and chanting, to the church he had chosen before he died. When the pestilence grew fiercer, these customs stopped entirely, or nearly so, and new ones took their place. People not only died without many women around them, but many left this life with no one there at all. Very few were granted the loving laments and bitter tears of their families. Instead, laughter, jokes, and merrymaking with companions were mostly the custom. The women had set aside much of their womanly pity and learned this custom very well, for the sake of their own health.
Et erano radi coloro, i corpi de' quali fosser più che da un diece o dodici de' suoi vicini alla chiesa accompagnati; de' quali non gli orrevoli e cari cittadini, ma una maniera di beccamorti sopravvenuti di minuta gente, che chiamar si facevan becchini, la quale questi servigj prezzolata faceva, sottentravano alla bara, e quella con frettolosi passi, non a quella chiesa che esso aveva anzi la morte disposto, ma alla più vicina le più volte il portavano dietro a quattro o a sei cherici con poco lume, e tal fiata senza alcuno: li quali con l'ajuto de' detti becchini, senza faticarsi in troppo lungo ofizio o solenne, in qualunque sepoltura disoccupata trovavano più tosto, il mettevano.
Few bodies were followed to church by more than ten or twelve neighbors. The men who carried them were not respected, well-born citizens. They were a kind of corpse carriers who had sprung up from the common people and called themselves becchini. They did this work for pay. They took up the bier and carried it in haste, most often not to the church the dead person had chosen before death, but to the nearest one. They followed four or six clerics who carried few candles, and sometimes none. With the help of the becchini, the clerics put the body in whatever empty grave they found first, without troubling themselves with too long or solemn a service.
Alla gran moltitudine de' corpi mostrata, che ad ogni chiesa ogni dì e quasi ogni ora concorreva portata, non bastando la terra sacra alle sepolture, e massimamente volendo dare a ciascun luogo propio secondo l'antico costume, si facevano per gli cimiteri delle chiese, poiché ogni parte era piena, fòsse grandissime, nelle quali a centinaja si mettevano i sopravvegnenti; et in quelle stivati, come si mettono le mercatanzie nelle navi a suolo a suolo, con poca terra si ricoprieno, infino a tanto che della fossa al sommo si pervenia.
So many bodies were brought to every church every day, almost every hour, that there was not enough consecrated ground to bury them, especially if each was to have its own grave, as the old custom was. So when every part of the churchyards was full, huge pits were dug, and the newly arrived bodies were put into them by the hundreds. They were packed in layer upon layer, like goods stowed in a ship, and each layer was covered with a little earth, until the pit was full to the top.
The Great Mortality in Paris, 1348–1349
Jean de Venette (attributed), Continuation of the Chronicle of William of Nangis, edited by Hercule Géraud (1843) · about 1360 (events of 1348–1349)
Unde in eodem anno Parisius et in regno Franciae, et non minus, ut fertur, in diversis mundi partibus, et in sequenti anno, fuit tanta mortalitas hominum utriusque sexus, et magis juvenum quam senum, quod vix poterant sepeliri, et vix ultra duos vel tres dies in infirmitate jacebant, sed subito et quasi sani moriebantur; unde qui hodie erat sanus, cras mortuus, ad foveam portabatur. Habebant enim subito bossas sub assellis vel in inguine, quibus insurgentibus erat infallibile signum mortis; et haec infirmitas seu pestilentia a medicis epidemia vocabatur.
That year in Paris and the kingdom of France, and no less, people say, in many parts of the world, and in the following year, there was such a mortality of men and women, more young than old, that they could hardly be buried. They were seldom sick more than two or three days. They died suddenly, while they seemed almost healthy. Someone healthy today was carried to the grave dead tomorrow. They suddenly got swellings under the armpits or in the groin, and when these rose up, they were a sure sign of death. The doctors called this sickness or pestilence an epidemic.
Tanta enim fuit in Domo-Dei Parisius mortalitas, ut per magnum tempus, ultra quingenti mortui omni die ad coemeterium sancti Innocentii Parisius ad sepeliendum in curribus portabantur. Et istae sanctae sorores Domus-Dei, mori non timentes, dulcissime et humillime omni honore postposito pertractabant; quarum multiplex numerus dictarum sororum, saepius renovatus per mortem, in pace cum Christo, ut pie creditur, requiescit.
At the Hôtel-Dieu in Paris the mortality was so great that for a long time more than five hundred dead were carried in carts every day to the cemetery of the Holy Innocents in Paris for burial. The holy sisters of the Hôtel-Dieu were not afraid to die. They cared for the sick most tenderly and humbly, setting all pride aside. Many of these sisters died and were replaced again and again. They rest in peace with Christ, as we devoutly believe.
The Lady of Cofitachequi, 1540
A Gentleman of Elvas, True Relation of the Hardships … in the Discovery of the Province of Florida (Évora, 1557), as reprinted by the Royal Academy of Sciences, Lisbon (1844) · printed 1557 (events of late April and May 1540)
e vendo a Cacica q os christãos estimaua as perlas, disse ao gouernador, que mandasse buscar certas sepulturas que naquelle pouo estauam, q acharia muitas: e se quisesse mãdar aos q despouoados estauã podiam carregar todos seus cauallos: foram buscadas as daqlle pouo, acharam se catorze arrobas de perlas e meninos e aves formados dellas. A gẽte era morena, bẽ d'posta e proporcionada e mais polida q nhuã da q se vio em toda a terra da Frolida e andauam todos calçados e vestidos.
Seeing that the Christians prized the pearls, the cacica told the governor to have certain graves in that town searched, for he would find many there. If he wanted to send to the graves in the empty towns, they could load all their horses. The graves of that town were searched, and fourteen arrobas of pearls were found, along with figures of children and birds made of them. The people were brown, well built and well proportioned, and more refined than any seen in the whole land of Florida. All of them wore shoes and clothes.
Into the Orinoco Delta
Walter Raleigh, The Discovery of the Large, Rich, and Beautiful Empire of Guiana (London, 1596), on May 1595 · events of May 1595; printed London 1596
They were woont to make warre vpon all nations, and especiallie on the Canibals, so as none durst without a good strength trade by those riuers, but of late they are at peace with their neighbors, all holding the Spaniards for a common enimie. When their commanders die, they vse great lamentation, and when they thinke the flesh of their bodies is putrified, and fallen from the bones, then they take vp the carcase againe, and hang it in the Casiquies house that died, and decke his skull with feathers of all colours, and hang all his gold plates about the bones of his armes, thighes, and legges.
They used to make war on all nations, and especially on the Canibals, so that no one dared to trade along those rivers without a strong force. But lately they have been at peace with their neighbors, all of them holding the Spaniards as a common enemy. When their leaders die, they mourn them greatly. When they think the flesh of the body has rotted and fallen from the bones, they take up the remains again and hang them in the house of the dead cacique. They deck his skull with feathers of all colors, and hang all his gold plates about the bones of his arms, thighs, and legs.
The Wendat Feast of the Dead
Jean de Brébeuf, Relation of the Hurons for 1636 (Paris, 1637), on the Feast of the Dead at Ossossané, spring 1636 · events of spring 1636 (the Monday after Pentecost); written 1636, printed 1637
Le Lundy sur le midy, on vint auertir qu'on se tinst prest, qu'on alloit commencer la ceremonie; on détache en mesme temps ces pacquets d'ames, les parens les déueloppent derechef pour dire les derniers adieux; les pleurs recommencerent de nouueau. I'admiray la tendresse d'vne femme enuers son pere, & ses enfans; elle est fille d'vn Capitaine, qui est mort fort agé, & a esté autrefois fort considerable dans le Pais; elle luy peignoit sa cheuelure elle manioit ses os les vns apres les autres, auec la mesme affection que si elle luy eust voulu rendre la vie; elle luy mit aupres de luy son Aetaonesay, c'est à dire son pacquet de buchettes de Conseil, qui sont tous les liures & papiers du Pais. Pour ses petits enfans elle leur mit des brasselets de Pourcelaine & de rassade aux bras, & baigna leurs os de ses larmes; on ne l'en pouuoit quasi separer, mais on pressoit, & il fallut incontinent partir. Celuy qui portoit le corps de ce vieux Capitaine marchoit à la teste, les hommes suiuoient, & puis les femmes, ils marchoient en cét ordre, iusques à ce qu'ils arriuerent à la fosse.
On Monday around noon, word came that people should be ready: the ceremony was about to begin. At once the bundles of souls were untied, and the relatives unwrapped them again to say their last farewells. The weeping began all over again. I admired the tenderness of one woman toward her father and her children. She is the daughter of a chief who died very old and was once very important in the country. She combed his hair and handled his bones one by one, with as much love as if she had wanted to bring him back to life. Beside him she placed his Aetaonesay, his bundle of council sticks, which are all the books and papers of the country. On the arms of her little children she put bracelets of shell beads and glass beads, and she bathed their bones with her tears. She could hardly be pulled away from them, but people were pressing them to hurry, and they had to leave at once. The man carrying the body of the old chief walked at the head. The men followed, and then the women. They marched in this order until they reached the pit.
Voicy la disposition de cette place, elle estoit enuiron de la grandeur de la place Royale à Paris. Il y auoit au milieu vne grande fosse d'enuiron dix pieds de profondeur, & cinq brasses de diametre; tout autour vn échaffaut & vne espece de theatre, assez bien fait de neuf à dix brasses de diamettre, & de dix à neuf pieds de hauteur; au dessus du theatre il y auoit quantité de perches dressées, & bien arrangées, & d'autres en trauers pour y pendre, & attacher tous ces pacquets d'ames. Les corps entiers comme ils deuoient estre mis au fond de la fosse estoiét dés le iour precedent souz l'échaffaut, étendus sur des écorces, ou des nattes dressées sur des pieux de la hauteur d'vn homme aux enuirons de la fosse.
This is how the place was laid out. It was about the size of the Place Royale in Paris. In the middle was a great pit about ten feet deep and five fathoms across. All around it stood a scaffold, a kind of stage, quite well built, nine or ten fathoms across and nine or ten feet high. Above the stage stood many poles, set up in good order, with others laid across them, for hanging and tying all the bundles of souls. The whole bodies were to be placed at the bottom of the pit. Since the day before, they had been lying under the scaffold around the pit, stretched out on sheets of bark or on mats set on stakes as high as a man.
Sur les sept heures ils descendoient les corps entiers dans la fosse: nous eusmes toutes les peines du monde d'en aborder; iamais rien ne m'a mieux figuré la confusion qui est parmy les damnez. Vous eussiez veu décharger de tous costez des corps à demy pourris, & de tous costez on entendoit vn horrible tintamarre de voix confuses de personnes qui parloient & ne s'entendoient pas: dix ou douze estoient en la fosse & les arrangeoient tout autour les vns aupres les autres. Ils mirent tout au beau milieu trois grandes chaudieres qui n'estoient bonnes que pour les ames; l'vne estoit percée, l'autre n'auoit point d'anse, & la troisiéme ne valloit gueres mieux: i'y vis fort peu de colliers de Pourcelaine; il est vray qu'ils en mettent beaucoup dans les corps. Voila tout ce qui se fit cette iournée.
Around seven o’clock they lowered the whole bodies into the pit. We had all the trouble in the world getting near it. Nothing has ever shown me more clearly the confusion among the damned. On every side you would have seen half-rotted bodies being let down. On every side you heard a horrible din of voices, people talking and not hearing each other. Ten or twelve men were in the pit, laying the bodies all around it, side by side. In the very middle they put three big kettles that were good only for souls: one had a hole in it, another had no handle, and the third was hardly any better. I saw very few shell collars there. It is true that they put many with the bodies. That is all that was done that day.
A London Diary of the Plague Year, 1665
Samuel Pepys, Diary, 1665, edited by Henry B. Wheatley (1893–99) · June 7–December 31, 1665
I was much troubled this day to hear at Westminster how the officers do bury the dead in the open Tuttle-fields, pretending want of room elsewhere; whereas the New Chappell churchyard was walled-in at the publick charge in the last plague time, merely for want of room and now none, but such as are able to pay dear for it, can be buried there.
I was much troubled this day to hear at Westminster how the officers do bury the dead in the open Tuttle Fields, pretending want of room elsewhere; whereas the New Chapel churchyard was walled in at the public charge in the last plague time, merely for want of room, and now none but such as are able to pay dear for it can be buried there.
The people die so, that now it seems they are fain to carry the dead to be buried by day-light, the nights not sufficing to do it in. And my Lord Mayor commands people to be within at nine at night all, as they say, that the sick may have liberty to go abroad for ayre.
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 nine at night, all, as they say, that the sick may have liberty to go abroad for air.
Then, on the other side, my finding that though the Bill in general is abated, yet the City within the walls is encreased, and likely to continue so, and is close to our house there. [...] My meeting dead corpses of the plague, carried to be buried close to me at noon-day through the City in Fanchurch-street. To see a person sick of the sores, carried close by me by Gracechurch in a hackney-coach. [...] To hear that poor Payne, my waiter, hath buried a child, and is dying himself. To hear that a labourer I sent but the other day to Dagenhams, to know how they did there, is dead of the plague; and that one of my own watermen, that carried me daily, fell sick as soon as he had landed me on Friday morning last, when I had been all night upon the water (and I believe he did get his infection that day at Brainford), and is now dead of the plague. [...] And, lastly, that both my servants, W. Hewer and Tom Edwards, have lost their fathers, both in St. Sepulchre’s parish, of the plague this week, do put me into great apprehensions of melancholy, and with good reason. But I put off the thoughts of sadness as much as I can, and the rather to keep my wife in good heart and family also.
Then, on the other side, my finding that though the Bill in general is abated, yet the City within the walls is increased, and likely to continue so, and is close to our house there. My meeting dead corpses of the plague, carried to be buried close to me at noonday through the City in Fenchurch Street. To see a person sick of the sores carried close by me by Gracechurch in a hackney coach. To hear that poor Payne, my waiter, hath buried a child, and is dying himself. To hear that a laborer I sent but the other day to Dagenhams, to know how they did there, is dead of the plague; and that one of my own watermen, that carried me daily, fell sick as soon as he had landed me on Friday morning last, when I had been all night upon the water (and I believe he did get his infection that day at Brainford), and is now dead of the plague. And, lastly, that both my servants, W. Hewer and Tom Edwards, have lost their fathers, both in St. Sepulchre’s parish, of the plague this week, do put me into great apprehensions of melancholy, and with good reason. But I put off the thoughts of sadness as much as I can, and the rather to keep my wife in good heart, and family also.
The Yellow Fever in Philadelphia, 1793
Benjamin Rush, An Account of the Bilious Remitting Yellow Fever (Philadelphia, 1794) · 1794 (events of 1793)
The streets every where discovered marks of the distress that pervaded the city. More than one half the houses were shut up, although not more than one third of the inhabitants had fled into the country. In walking for many hundred yards, few persons were met, except such as were in quest of a physician, a nurse, a bleeder, or the men who buried the dead. The hearse alone kept up the remembrance of the noise of carriages or carts in the streets. Funeral processions were laid aside. A black man, leading, or driving a horse, with a corpse on a pair of chair wheels, with now and then half a dozen relations or friends following at a distance from it, met the eye in most of the streets of the city at every hour of the day, while the noise of the same wheels passing slowly over the pavements, kept alive anguish and fear in the sick and well, every hour of the night.
The streets everywhere discovered marks of the distress that pervaded the city. More than one half the houses were shut up, although not more than one third of the inhabitants had fled into the country. In walking for many hundred yards, few persons were met, except such as were in quest of a physician, a nurse, a bleeder, or the men who buried the dead. The hearse alone kept up the remembrance of the noise of carriages or carts in the streets. Funeral processions were laid aside. A black man, leading or driving a horse with a corpse on a pair of chair wheels, with now and then half a dozen relations or friends following at a distance from it, met the eye in most of the streets of the city at every hour of the day, while the noise of the same wheels passing slowly over the pavements kept alive anguish and fear in the sick and well, every hour of the night.
Philadelphia in Terror, 1793
Mathew Carey, A Short Account of the Malignant Fever, Lately Prevalent in Philadelphia, third edition (1793) · November 1793, during the last weeks of the epidemic
Many were almost incessantly purifying, scouring, and whitewashing their rooms. Those who ventured abroad, had handkerchiefs or sponges impregnated with vinegar or camphor at their noses, or else smelling bottles with the thieves' vinegar. Others carried pieces of tarred rope in their hands or pockets, or camphor bags tied round their necks. The corpses of the most respectable citizens, even of those who did not die of the epidemic, were carried to the grave, on the shafts of a chair, the horse driven by a negro, unattended by a friend or relation, and without any sort of ceremony. People hastily shifted their course at the sight of a hearse coming towards them. Many never walked on the foot path, but went into the middle of the streets, to avoid being infected in passing by houses wherein people had died. Acquaintances and friends avoided each other in the streets, and only signified their regard by a cold nod. The old custom of shaking hands fell into such general disuse, that many were affronted at even the offer of the hand. A person with a crape, or any appearance of mourning, was shunned like a viper. And many valued themselves highly on the skill and address with which they got to windward of every person they met. Indeed it is not probable that London, at the last stage of the plague, exhibited stronger marks of terror, than were to be seen in Philadelphia, from the 25th or 26th of August till pretty late in September. When people summoned up resolution to walk abroad, and take the air, the sick cart conveying patients to the hospital, or the hearse carrying the dead to the grave, which were travelling almost the whole day, soon damped their spirits, and plunged them again into despondency.
Many were almost incessantly purifying, scouring, and whitewashing their rooms. Those who ventured abroad had handkerchiefs or sponges impregnated with vinegar or camphor at their noses, or else smelling bottles with the thieves’ vinegar. Others carried pieces of tarred rope in their hands or pockets, or camphor bags tied round their necks. The corpses of the most respectable citizens, even of those who did not die of the epidemic, were carried to the grave on the shafts of a chair, the horse driven by a negro, unattended by a friend or relation, and without any sort of ceremony. People hastily shifted their course at the sight of a hearse coming toward them. Many never walked on the footpath, but went into the middle of the streets, to avoid being infected in passing by houses wherein people had died. Acquaintances and friends avoided each other in the streets, and only signified their regard by a cold nod. The old custom of shaking hands fell into such general disuse that many were affronted at even the offer of the hand. A person with a crape, or any appearance of mourning, was shunned like a viper. And many valued themselves highly on the skill and address with which they got to windward of every person they met. Indeed it is not probable that London, at the last stage of the plague, exhibited stronger marks of terror than were to be seen in Philadelphia from the 25th or 26th of August till pretty late in September. When people summoned up resolution to walk abroad and take the air, the sick cart conveying patients to the hospital, or the hearse carrying the dead to the grave, which were traveling almost the whole day, soon damped their spirits, and plunged them again into despondency.
"There is something very singular in the constitution of the negroes," says he, "which renders them not liable to this fever; for though many of them were as much exposed as the nurses to this infection; yet I never knew one instance of this fever among them, though they are equally subject with the white people to the bilious fever." The same idea prevailed for a considerable time in Philadelphia; but it was erroneous. They did not escape the disorder; however, the number of them that were seized with it, was not great; and, as I am informed by an eminent doctor, "it yielded to the power of medicine in them more easily than in the whites." The error that prevailed on this subject had a very salutary effect; for at an early period of the disorder, hardly any white nurses could be procured; and had the negroes been equally terrified, the sufferings of the sick, great as they actually were, would have been exceedingly aggravated. At the period alluded to, the elders of the African church met, and offered their services to the mayor, to procure nurses for the sick, and to assist in burying the dead. Their offers were accepted; and Absalom Jones and Richard Allen undertook the former department, that of furnishing nurses, and William Gray, the latter— the interment of the dead. The great demand for nurses afforded an opportunity for imposition, which was eagerly seized by some of the vilest of the blacks. They extorted two, three, four, and even five dollars a night for attendance, which would have been well paid by a single dollar. Some of them were even detected in plundering the houses of the sick. But it is wrong to cast a censure on the whole for this sort of conduct, as many people have done. The services of Jones, Allen, and Gray, and others of their colour, have been very great, and demand public gratitude.
“There is something very singular in the constitution of the negroes,” says he, “which renders them not liable to this fever; for though many of them were as much exposed as the nurses to this infection, yet I never knew one instance of this fever among them, though they are equally subject with the white people to the bilious fever.” The same idea prevailed for a considerable time in Philadelphia, but it was erroneous. They did not escape the disorder; however, the number of them that were seized with it was not great, and, as I am informed by an eminent doctor, “it yielded to the power of medicine in them more easily than in the whites.” The error that prevailed on this subject had a very salutary effect, for at an early period of the disorder hardly any white nurses could be procured, and had the negroes been equally terrified, the sufferings of the sick, great as they actually were, would have been exceedingly aggravated. At the period alluded to, the elders of the African church met, and offered their services to the mayor, to procure nurses for the sick, and to assist in burying the dead. Their offers were accepted; and Absalom Jones and Richard Allen undertook the former department, that of furnishing nurses, and William Gray the latter, the interment of the dead. The great demand for nurses afforded an opportunity for imposition, which was eagerly seized by some of the vilest of the blacks. They extorted two, three, four, and even five dollars a night for attendance, which would have been well paid by a single dollar. Some of them were even detected in plundering the houses of the sick. But it is wrong to cast a censure on the whole for this sort of conduct, as many people have done. The services of Jones, Allen, and Gray, and others of their color, have been very great, and demand public gratitude.
We Have Seen More Humanity: An Answer to Carey
Absalom Jones and Richard Allen, A Narrative of the Proceedings of the Black People, during the Late Awful Calamity in Philadelphia (1794) · January 1794 (events of August–November 1793)
Early in September, a solicitation appeared in the public papers, to the people of colour to come forward and assist the distressed, perishing, and neglected sick; with a kind of assurance, that people of our colour were not liable to take the infection. Upon which we and a few others met and consulted how to act on so truly alarming and melancholy an occasion. After some conversation, we found a freedom to go forth, confiding in him who can preserve in the midst of a burning fiery furnace, sensible that it was our duty to do all the good we could to our suffering fellow mortals. We set out to see where we could be useful. The first we visited was a man in Emsley's alley, who was dying, and his wife lay dead at the time in the house, there were none to assist but two poor helpless children. We administered what relief we could, and applied to the overseers of the poor to have the woman buried. We visited upwards of twenty families that day — they were scenes of woe indeed! The Lord was pleased to strengthen us, and remove all fear from us, and disposed our hearts to be as useful as possible.
Early in September, a solicitation appeared in the public papers to the people of color to come forward and assist the distressed, perishing, and neglected sick, with a kind of assurance that people of our color were not liable to take the infection. Upon which we and a few others met and consulted how to act on so truly alarming and melancholy an occasion. After some conversation, we found a freedom to go forth, confiding in Him who can preserve in the midst of a burning fiery furnace, sensible that it was our duty to do all the good we could to our suffering fellow mortals. We set out to see where we could be useful. The first we visited was a man in Emsley’s Alley who was dying, and his wife lay dead at the time in the house; there were none to assist but two poor helpless children. We administered what relief we could, and applied to the overseers of the poor to have the woman buried. We visited upwards of twenty families that day. They were scenes of woe indeed! The Lord was pleased to strengthen us, and remove all fear from us, and disposed our hearts to be as useful as possible.
Remembering the Yellow Fever of 1793
Samuel Breck, Recollections, edited by H. E. Scudder (Philadelphia, 1877) · written 1830 or later (events of 1793); published 1877
The horrors of this memorable affliction were extensive and heart-rending. Nor were they softened by professional skill. The disorder was in a great measure a stranger to our climate, and was awkwardly treated. Its rapid march, being from ten victims a day in August to one hundred a day in October, terrified the physicians, and led them into contradictory modes of treatment. They, as well as the guardians of the city, were taken by surprise. No hospitals or hospital stores were in readiness to alleviate the sufferings of the poor. For a long time nothing could be done other than to furnish coffins for the dead and men to bury them. At length a large house in the neighborhood was appropriately fitted up for the reception of patients, and a few pre-eminent philanthropists volunteered to superintend it. At the head of them was Stephen Girard, who has since become the richest man in America.
The horrors of this memorable affliction were extensive and heart-rending. Nor were they softened by professional skill. The disorder was in a great measure a stranger to our climate, and was awkwardly treated. Its rapid march, being from ten victims a day in August to one hundred a day in October, terrified the physicians, and led them into contradictory modes of treatment. They, as well as the guardians of the city, were taken by surprise. No hospitals or hospital stores were in readiness to alleviate the sufferings of the poor. For a long time nothing could be done other than to furnish coffins for the dead and men to bury them. At length a large house in the neighborhood was appropriately fitted up for the reception of patients, and a few preeminent philanthropists volunteered to superintend it. At the head of them was Stephen Girard, who has since become the richest man in America.
The Plague Act and the House Searches, Bombay 1897
R. Nathan, comp., The Plague in India, 1896, 1897 (Simla: Government Central Printing Office, 1898) · 1898 (events of October 1896–April 1897)
“As regards the hospitals themselves, any and every objection was put forward against them. The same Kazi, who is mentioned below as having any interest in the burial-grounds, said in the course of an inflammatory speech on March 13th: ‘ The vehicle employed to convey plague patients to the hospital was regarded as a hearse brought to the door of one’s house to take away the dead. Mothers whose ill and suffering children were taken away from them would become frantic and sacrifice their lives; men’s frenzy would turn them into fanatics ; they would lose control over themselves. How could a husband be expected to tolerate the sight of his wife's hand being in the hand of another man? From the vans or carriages for the sick patients were taken out and thrown down upon the floor of the hospital as if they were so many pieces of stone. Moreover, in the hospital one could not say his prayers so many times a day; one would be made to drink spirits.’
“As regards the hospitals themselves, any and every objection was put forward against them. The same Kazi, who is mentioned below as having any interest in the burial grounds, said in the course of an inflammatory speech on March 13th: ‘The vehicle employed to convey plague patients to the hospital was regarded as a hearse brought to the door of one’s house to take away the dead. Mothers whose ill and suffering children were taken away from them would become frantic and sacrifice their lives; men’s frenzy would turn them into fanatics; they would lose control over themselves. How could a husband be expected to tolerate the sight of his wife’s hand being in the hand of another man? From the vans or carriages for the sick patients were taken out and thrown down upon the floor of the hospital as if they were so many pieces of stone. Moreover, in the hospital one could not say his prayers so many times a day; one would be made to drink spirits.’