It arrived innocently enough, in a bale of cloth ordered by George Vicars, the local tailor. The cloth was damp, so he spread it out in front of the fire to dry, allowing the fleas within to be released. They were carriers of the plague, and soon, inevitably it claimed its victims. Within a year, hundreds of people in this small village died.
You would think such a tragedy would permeate everything and that you'd be able to feel the pain in the air and in the brickwork, but you can't. You only feel it in the stark words you read. You imagine it, sitting in the church and passing the cottages of the doomed villagers.
children's nursery rhymes commemorate what happened.
|Mexican embroidered dress accessorised with bags from Em and Krista, because I couldn't decide|
|Eyam hall and gardens|
|The village stocks. It wasn't me! Or was it?|
I have to finish up with this classic photo of the family pets from Eyam Hall. What song do you reckon they're singing? Answers on a