London

[...] Ðises geares on æfteward Mai wæs gesewen an selcuð steorra mid langan leoman manege niht scinende. Eac on þis ylcan geare wæs swa mycel ebba æghwær anes dæges swa nan man æror ne g'munde. and swa ꝥ man ferde ridende and gangende ofer Tæmese be eastan þære brigge on Lunden. Þises geares wæron swiðe mycele windas on Octob'r monðe. ac he wæs or mæte mycel on þa niht Octab' sc̃i Martini. and ꝥ gehwær on wudan and on tunan gecydde. [...]

This year, at the end of May, a strange star was seen with a long ray, shining for many nights. Also in this same year there was such a low tide everywhere on one day as no one had ever remembered before. People went riding and walking across the Thames east of the bridge in London. This year there were very strong winds in October. But the wind was beyond measure on the night of the octave of St. Martin, and the damage showed everywhere, in the woods and in the villages.

On þis gær wærd þe king Steph' ded ⁊ bebyried þer his wif ⁊ his sune wæron bebyried æt Faures feld. þæt minstre hi makeden. Þa þe king was ded. þa was þe eorl beionde sæ. ⁊ ne durste nan man don oþer bute god for þe micel eie of hī. Þa he to Engle land cō. þa was he under fangen mid micel wurtscipe. and to king bletcæd in Lundene on þe Sunnen dæi be foren midwint'dæi. and held þær micel curt. [...]

In this year King Stephen died. He was buried at Faversham, where his wife and his son were buried; they had built that minster. When the king died, the earl was overseas. And no one dared to do anything but good, for the great awe of him. When he came to England, he was received with great honor and consecrated king in London on the Sunday before Christmas, and there he held a great court.

Igitur M. Thoma de Curiâ Romanâ revertente consecrato, versùs Londoniam festinavit, & in Hospitio Episcopi Roffensis apud La Place per quatuor dies infirmus pausans obiit.

So Master Thomas came back from the papal court, already consecrated, and hurried toward London. At La Place, the Bishop of Rochester's house, he lay ill for four days and died.

He was a native of this place, & scarce any left alive besids him selfe. He was caried away with diverce others by one Hunt, a mr. of a ship, who thought to sell them for slaves in Spaine; but he got away for England, and was entertained by a marchante in London, & imployed to New-found-land & other parts, & lastly brought hither into these parts by one Mr. Dermer, a gentle-man imployed by Sr. Ferdinando Gorges & others, for discovery, & other designes in these parts.

He was a native of this place, and hardly anyone was left alive besides himself. He had been carried away with several others by one Hunt, a ship's master, who meant to sell them as slaves in Spain. But he got away to England, was taken in by a merchant in London, and was employed in Newfoundland and other parts. At last he was brought back here by one Mr. Dermer, a gentleman employed by Sir Ferdinando Gorges and others for exploration and other plans in these parts.

Early Sir G. Carteret, both Sir Williams and I by coach to Deptford, it being very windy and rainy weather, taking a codd and some prawnes in Fish Street with us. We settled to pay the Guernsey, a small ship, but come to a great deal of money, it having been unpaid ever since before the King came in, by which means not only the King pays wages while the ship has lain still, but the poor men have most of them been forced to borrow all the money due for their wages before they receive it, and that at a dear rate, God knows, so that many of them had very little to receive at the table, which grieved me to see it. To dinner, very merry. Then Sir George to London, and we again to the pay, and that done by coach home again and to the office, doing some business, and so home and to bed.

Early, Sir G. Carteret, both Sir Williams and I [went] by coach to Deptford, it being very windy and rainy weather, taking a cod and some prawns from Fish Street with us. We settled to pay [the crew of] the Guernsey, a small ship, but it came to a great deal of money, having been unpaid ever since before the King came in. Because of this, not only does the King pay wages while the ship has lain idle, but the poor men have most of them been forced to borrow all the money due for their wages before they receive it, and that at a high rate, God knows. So many of them had very little to receive at the table, which grieved me to see. To dinner, very merry. Then Sir George [went] to London, and we [went] back to the pay. When that was done, [we went] home again by coach and to the office, doing some business, and so home and to bed.

Up, and after doing some business at the office, I to London, and there, in my way, at my old oyster shop in Gracious Streete, bought two barrels of my fine woman of the shop, who is alive after all the plague, which now is the first observation or inquiry we make at London concerning everybody we knew before it.

Up, and after doing some business at the office, I [went] to London. There, on my way, at my old oyster shop in Gracious Street, [I] bought two barrels from my fine woman of the shop, who is alive after all the plague. That is now the first thing we notice or ask about in London concerning everybody we knew before it.

In the evening home to supper; and there, to my great trouble, hear that the plague is come into the City (though it hath these three or four weeks since its beginning been wholly out of the City); but where should it begin but in my good friend and neighbour’s, Dr. Burnett, in Fanchurch Street: which in both points troubles me mightily. To the office to finish my letters and then home to bed, being troubled at the sicknesse, and my head filled also with other business enough, and particularly how to put my things and estate in order, in case it should please God to call me away, which God dispose of to his glory!

In the evening home to supper; and there, to my great trouble, hear that the plague is come into the City (though it hath these three or four weeks since its beginning been wholly out of the City); but where should it begin but in my good friend and neighbor’s, Dr. Burnett, in Fenchurch Street: which in both points troubles me mightily. To the office to finish my letters and then home to bed, being troubled at the sickness, and my head filled also with other business enough, and particularly how to put my things and estate in order, in case it should please God to call me away, which God dispose of to his glory!

It is true we have gone through great melancholy because of the great plague, and I put to great charges by it, by keeping my family long at Woolwich, and myself and another part of my family, my clerks, at my charge at Greenwich, and a mayde at London; but I hope the King will give us some satisfaction for that. But now the plague is abated almost to nothing, and I intending to get to London as fast as I can. [...] I have never lived so merrily (besides that I never got so much) as I have done this plague time, by my Lord Bruncker’s and Captain Cocke’s good company, and the acquaintance of Mrs. Knipp, Coleman and her husband, and Mr. Laneare, and great store of dancings we have had at my cost (which I was willing to indulge myself and wife) at my lodgings. [...] My whole family hath been well all this while, and all my friends I know of, saving my aunt Bell, who is dead, and some children of my cozen Sarah’s, of the plague. But many of such as I know very well, dead; yet, to our great joy, the town fills apace, and shops begin to be open again.

It is true we have gone through great melancholy because of the great plague, and I put to great charges by it, by keeping my family long at Woolwich, and myself and another part of my family, my clerks, at my charge at Greenwich, and a maid at London; but I hope the King will give us some satisfaction for that. But now the plague is abated almost to nothing, and I intending to get to London as fast as I can. I have never lived so merrily (besides that I never got so much) as I have done this plague time, by my Lord Brouncker’s and Captain Cocke’s good company, and the acquaintance of Mrs. Knipp, Coleman and her husband, and Mr. Lanier, and great store of dancings we have had at my cost (which I was willing to indulge myself and wife) at my lodgings. My whole family hath been well all this while, and all my friends I know of, saving my aunt Bell, who is dead, and some children of my cousin Sarah’s, of the plague. But many of such as I know very well, dead; yet, to our great joy, the town fills apace, and shops begin to be open again.

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.

On the 24th of July, 1844, the writer of this little book went to dine at the —— Club, quite unconscious of the wonderful events which Fate had in store for him. Mr. William was there, giving a farewell dinner to his friend, Mr. James (now Sir James). These two asked Mr. Titmarsh to join company with them, and the conversation naturally fell upon the tour Mr. James was about to take. The Peninsular and Oriental Company had arranged an excursion in the Mediterranean, by which, in the space of a couple of months, as many men and cities were to be seen as Ulysses surveyed and noted in ten years. Malta, Athens, Smyrna, Constantinople, Jerusalem, Cairo were to be visited and everybody was to be back in London by Lord Mayor's-day.

On July 24, 1844, the writer of this little book went to dine at the —— Club, quite unaware of the wonderful events that Fate had in store for him. Mr. William was there, giving a farewell dinner to his friend Mr. James (now Sir James). These two asked Mr. Titmarsh to join them, and the talk naturally turned to the tour Mr. James was about to take. The Peninsular and Oriental Company had arranged an excursion in the Mediterranean. In the space of a couple of months, it would show as many men and cities as Ulysses saw and noted in ten years. Malta, Athens, Smyrna, Constantinople, Jerusalem, and Cairo were to be visited, and everybody was to be back in London by Lord Mayor's Day.

The sight of that noble scene cured all the woes and discomfitures of sea-sickness at once, and if there were any need to communicate such secrets to the public, one might tell of much more good that the pleasant morning-watch effected ; but there are a set of emotions about which a man had best be shy of talking lightly, — and the feelings excited by contemplating this vast, magnificent, harmonious Nature are among these. The view of it inspires a delight and ecstasy which is not only hard to describe, but which has something secret in it that a man should not utter loudly. Hope, memory, humility, tender yearnings towards dear friends, and inexpressible love and reverence towards the Power which created the infinite universe blazing above eternally, and the vast ocean shining and rolling around — fill the heart with a solemn, humble happiness, that a person dwelling in a city has rarely occasion to enjoy. They are coming away from London parties at this time : the dear little eyes are closed in sleep under mother's wing. How far off city cares and pleasures appear to be! how small and mean they seem, dwindling out of sight before this magnificent brightness of Nature ! But the best thoughts only grow and strengthen under it. Heaven shines above, and the humbled spirit looks up reverently towards that boundless aspect of wisdom and beauty. You are at home, and with all at rest there, however far away they may be; and through the distance the heart broods over them, bright and wakeful like yonder peaceful stars overhead.

The sight of that noble scene cured all the woes and discomforts of seasickness at once. If there were any need to tell such secrets to the public, one might tell of much more good that the pleasant morning watch did. But there are some feelings that a man had best be shy of talking about lightly, and the feelings stirred by gazing on this vast, magnificent, harmonious Nature are among them. The view of it inspires a delight and ecstasy that is not only hard to describe, but has something secret in it that a man should not say aloud. Hope, memory, humility, tender longing for dear friends, and inexpressible love and reverence for the Power that created the infinite universe blazing forever above, and the vast ocean shining and rolling around—these fill the heart with a solemn, humble happiness that a person living in a city rarely has the chance to enjoy. At this hour they are coming away from London parties. The dear little eyes are closed in sleep under their mother's wing. How far off city cares and pleasures seem! How small and mean they look, dwindling out of sight before this magnificent brightness of Nature! But the best thoughts only grow and strengthen under it. Heaven shines above, and the humbled spirit looks up reverently toward that boundless face of wisdom and beauty. You are at home, and with everyone at rest there, however far away they may be. Across the distance the heart broods over them, bright and wakeful like those peaceful stars overhead.

The result of the inquiry then was, that there had been no particular outbreak or increase of cholera, in this part of London, except among the persons who were in the habit of drinking the water of the above-mentioned pump-well.

The result of the inquiry then was that there had been no particular outbreak or increase of cholera, in this part of London, except among the persons who were in the habit of drinking the water of the above-mentioned pump-well.

Haliburton knew that George Orcutt had taken with him a good Dolland’s refractor, which he had bought in London, of a two-inch glass. He knew that this would give Orcutt a very considerable power, if he could only adjust it accurately enough to find No. 9 in the 3d Range. Orcutt had chosen well in selecting the “Saw-Mill Flat,” a large meadow, easily distinguished by the peculiar shape of the mill-pond which we had made. Eager though Haliburton was, to join me, he loyally took moneys, caught the first train to Skowhegan, and, travelling thence, in thirty-six hours more was again descending Spoonwood Hill, for the first time since our futile observations. The snow lay white upon the Flat. With Rob. Shea’s help, he rapidly unrolled a piece of black cambric twenty yards long, and pinned it to the crust upon the snow; another by its side, and another. Much cambric had he left. They had carried down with them enough for the funerals of two Presidents. Haliburton showed the symbols for “I understand,” but he could not resist also displaying · · — · —, which are the dots and lines to represent O. K., which, he says, is the shortest message of comfort. And, not having exhausted the space on the Flat, he and Robert, before night closed in, made a gigantic O. K., fifteen yards from top to bottom, and in marks that were fifteen feet through.

Haliburton knew that George Orcutt had taken with him a good Dolland’s refractor, which he had bought in London, of a two-inch glass. He knew that this would give Orcutt a very considerable power, if he could only adjust it accurately enough to find No. 9 in the 3rd Range. Orcutt had chosen well in selecting the “Saw-Mill Flat,” a large meadow, easily distinguished by the peculiar shape of the millpond which we had made. Eager though Haliburton was to join me, he loyally took moneys, caught the first train to Skowhegan, and, traveling thence, in thirty-six hours more was again descending Spoonwood Hill, for the first time since our futile observations. The snow lay white upon the Flat. With Rob. Shea’s help, he rapidly unrolled a piece of black cambric twenty yards long, and pinned it to the crust upon the snow; another by its side, and another. Much cambric had he left. They had carried down with them enough for the funerals of two Presidents. Haliburton showed the symbols for “I understand,” but he could not resist also displaying · · — · —, which are the dots and lines to represent O.K., which, he says, is the shortest message of comfort. And, not having exhausted the space on the Flat, he and Robert, before night closed in, made a gigantic O.K., fifteen yards from top to bottom, and in marks that were fifteen feet through.