three months old and still swaddled, with thick dark hair. She was awake and smiled up at us, so Abby loosened the cambric sheet around her and let her wave her arms.
‘This is Grace,’ Abby said. ‘And she must think I’m her mother, for it’s been me who’s been looking after her since she was born.’
‘How is she fed if your mistress is so ill?’ I asked. ‘Does she have a wet nurse?’
Abby shook her head. ‘They won’t allow a wet nurse for fear of contagion, so a maid with the milch-ass calls here twice a day.’ She stroked the baby’s cheek. ‘I trickle the milk down my hand and this little squab sucks my fingers.’
I was silent for a moment, and then I asked in a low voice, ‘It’s not plague that your mistress has, is it?’
Abby laughed. ‘’Tis not! Plague would have carried her off by now. It’s just childbed fever. Though, to tell the truth,’ she added, ‘when I wash her, I always look her over for the tokens, for I know that plague is no respecter of persons. It can visit a lady as quick as an ale-house wife.’
‘And do you take a preventative yourself?’
She nodded. ‘The mistress’s doctor made us upsome treacle with conserves of roses before he went into the country. And we all chew a piece of angelica root when we go out.’
Talking of the preventatives made me think of Tom, and, rather embarrassed, I brought his name into the conversation and asked Abby whether I should allow him the liberty of kissing me or not. ‘I mean proper kissing – on the lips,’ I explained.
She laughed. ‘Of course!’ she said. ‘For what’s a sweetheart for if you don’t get one or two kisses from him!’
‘Mother used to say—’
Abby waved her hand dismissively. ‘It’s different in London,’ she said. ‘And different now, when no one can count on living two days at a time. If you’re visited by the plague—’
I gave a little gasp of fright.
‘You don’t want to go to your grave unkissed, do you?’
I smiled and blushed. ‘Indeed I don’t!’
‘Well, then,’ she said.
Laughing, I said I would think on it, and bid her goodbye.
Chapter Nine
The first week of August
‘And I frighted to see so many graves lie so high upon the churchyard where so many have been buried of the Plague.’
‘Praying is all very well,’ said the stout woman in church, ‘but I cannot fast! And I do not see why I have to. I don’t believe the king will be fasting. I’m sure he and his court will be sitting down to their grouse and oysters and lobsters and geese just the same as they always do!’
Sarah and I smiled at the woman, who was as wide as she was high, and moved slightly further down the pew and away from her. She was hot and red-faced and we did not wish her breath to fall on us, for the latest rumour was that you should keep cool and keep your distance from others as much as possible in order to avoid contaminated air. It appeared that the authorities did not know this rumour, however, for we were still required to attend church regularly, and without fail on the first Wednesday in each month.
The Bills had shown that near two and a half thousand had died of plague in the past week, and on the way into St Dominic’s that morning I had not been able to avoid seeing how the ground in the graveyard had risen; how corpses had been laid upon corpses so that the ground on each side of the pathway had swelled to a height of several feet. It made me shudder to see it, for I could not help but imagine them all lying there in the cold earth in their winding sheets – for few were given the sanctity of a coffin – old piled upon young, men upon women, laid without care or ceremony.
Once seated in church, we discovered that our own minister had moved to the safety of the country, and another now stood in his place. He gave a violent and frightening sermon which lasted nearly two hours, telling us that the plague was a judgement on the behaviour of the people, and of the
‘This is Grace,’ Abby said. ‘And she must think I’m her mother, for it’s been me who’s been looking after her since she was born.’
‘How is she fed if your mistress is so ill?’ I asked. ‘Does she have a wet nurse?’
Abby shook her head. ‘They won’t allow a wet nurse for fear of contagion, so a maid with the milch-ass calls here twice a day.’ She stroked the baby’s cheek. ‘I trickle the milk down my hand and this little squab sucks my fingers.’
I was silent for a moment, and then I asked in a low voice, ‘It’s not plague that your mistress has, is it?’
Abby laughed. ‘’Tis not! Plague would have carried her off by now. It’s just childbed fever. Though, to tell the truth,’ she added, ‘when I wash her, I always look her over for the tokens, for I know that plague is no respecter of persons. It can visit a lady as quick as an ale-house wife.’
‘And do you take a preventative yourself?’
She nodded. ‘The mistress’s doctor made us upsome treacle with conserves of roses before he went into the country. And we all chew a piece of angelica root when we go out.’
Talking of the preventatives made me think of Tom, and, rather embarrassed, I brought his name into the conversation and asked Abby whether I should allow him the liberty of kissing me or not. ‘I mean proper kissing – on the lips,’ I explained.
She laughed. ‘Of course!’ she said. ‘For what’s a sweetheart for if you don’t get one or two kisses from him!’
‘Mother used to say—’
Abby waved her hand dismissively. ‘It’s different in London,’ she said. ‘And different now, when no one can count on living two days at a time. If you’re visited by the plague—’
I gave a little gasp of fright.
‘You don’t want to go to your grave unkissed, do you?’
I smiled and blushed. ‘Indeed I don’t!’
‘Well, then,’ she said.
Laughing, I said I would think on it, and bid her goodbye.
Chapter Nine
The first week of August
‘And I frighted to see so many graves lie so high upon the churchyard where so many have been buried of the Plague.’
‘Praying is all very well,’ said the stout woman in church, ‘but I cannot fast! And I do not see why I have to. I don’t believe the king will be fasting. I’m sure he and his court will be sitting down to their grouse and oysters and lobsters and geese just the same as they always do!’
Sarah and I smiled at the woman, who was as wide as she was high, and moved slightly further down the pew and away from her. She was hot and red-faced and we did not wish her breath to fall on us, for the latest rumour was that you should keep cool and keep your distance from others as much as possible in order to avoid contaminated air. It appeared that the authorities did not know this rumour, however, for we were still required to attend church regularly, and without fail on the first Wednesday in each month.
The Bills had shown that near two and a half thousand had died of plague in the past week, and on the way into St Dominic’s that morning I had not been able to avoid seeing how the ground in the graveyard had risen; how corpses had been laid upon corpses so that the ground on each side of the pathway had swelled to a height of several feet. It made me shudder to see it, for I could not help but imagine them all lying there in the cold earth in their winding sheets – for few were given the sanctity of a coffin – old piled upon young, men upon women, laid without care or ceremony.
Once seated in church, we discovered that our own minister had moved to the safety of the country, and another now stood in his place. He gave a violent and frightening sermon which lasted nearly two hours, telling us that the plague was a judgement on the behaviour of the people, and of the
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