Of Plagues and Pandemics
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With so much of life as we know it currently affected by coronavirus, and numerous recent programmes and newspaper items on the bubonic plague, and Spanish ‘flu, I found myself wondering how previous pandemics had impacted Colchester. (As is my wont, I did meander into other diseases and public health issues – but they can be saved, for another day!)
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While bubonic plague had existed for centuries elsewhere, it did not reach England until much later. The Black Death marked the start of the Second Plague Pandemic, which would continue to afflict the country, with differing levels of virulence, until the mid-18th century. (The First Plague Pandemic had ravaged mainly the Mediterranean countries, but also impacted mainland northern Europe, and the Near East, between 541 and 767.) Bubonic plague finally reached the south coast of England in June, 1348 and proceeded to ravage the country until the end of 1350.
In Colchester, by August, 1349, both the abbot and prior of St John’s had died. In the decades before and after the pandemic, there was an average of 2-3 wills proved in the town each year. In the 12 months from September 1348 there were 111 and 25 the following year. There are no definitive figures on death rates, but historians believe it was probably slightly lower in the town than the estimated 45%, in the surrounding rural area.
We are familiar with the Great Plague which afflicted London in 1665 and killed an estimated 100,000 people, roughly 20% of the city’s population, subsiding only after much of the city was destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666. Many will have heard of the bravery of the inhabitants of Eyam in Derbyshire who quarantined themselves for some 14 months so that they did not spread the disease, which had come into their midst via bales of cloth from the capital. In so doing they did, indeed, contain the infection – but it is said that fewer than a quarter of the inhabitants survived.
How many people realise that Colchester was one of the worst-affected towns in the country, though?
Between 1665 and 1666, the plague is estimated to have killed 4,500-5,000 Colcestrians – almost half the town’s population. Plague pest hospitals were set up in Mile End and St Mary’s. While subsequent outbreaks of the plague were not as devastating, the disease continued to be endemic until about 1750.
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Given that Spanish ‘Flu was much more recent, you might expect that information would be more readily available – and it probably would be, were it not for DORA! The Defence of the Realm Act was first passed in 1914 at the start of the Great War and initially aimed simply to control communications and British ports, and to subject civilians to the rule of military courts. During the course of the War, though, there were 6 further amendments, which covered a wide range, from introducing British Summer time, to extending the powers of the police, to banning bonfires, kite-flying and whistling in the street! DORA also imposed rigid censorship on the press – both to maintain morale at home and to deny the enemy any possible propaganda victory.
By way of example the Prime Minister, David Lloyd George, arrived in Manchester on 11th September 1918 to be greeted by cheering crowds lining the streets. He collapsed with a severe fever, hours later, and spent the next 10 days on a respirator, having fallen victim to Spanish ‘Flu. The newspapers reported merely “a little chill”, and explained his absence from the public eye as a “precautionary measure”, while the mayor of Manchester stated Lloyd George was “progressing satisfactorily, but was staying in bed”.
Many other countries had similar censorship regimes in place – which is how the pandemic which was to sweep across the world, in 4 main waves, between early 1918, and April, 1920, got its name. Spain was neutral, and took no part in the war. Its newspapers were therefore free to feature daily reports of the dreadful disease which was affecting its people, and, unlike most ‘flu viruses, killing mainly the young and fit – and so it became known as Spanish ‘Flu.
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​Experts believe the virus probably originated in China, and that its spread was helped by the enormous migrations which took place, when millions of people began returning home from the war. It has been estimated that at least 500 million people were infected, worldwide (about a third of the global population) and that some 50 million died – more than had been killed during the entire conflict.
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Harry Bright, of Harwich, aged 7 years and 10 months, was sent home from school, feeling unwell, and duly put to bed, by his mother. He died just 75 minutes later.
The Essex County Standard first mentioned the pandemic on 13th July, 1918, reporting that “several deaths” had been caused by the virus, which had also “prostrated many hundreds, possibly thousands”. Several schools in the town were closed, temporarily, between June, and August of that year, but, by mid-October, they were all closed. At that point, the plight of Essex made the national press, with the Times stating that hospitals, workhouses and infirmaries in the county were badly affected. The County Council put out a plea for more coffin-makers, as the death toll continued to rise.
The greatest surge in cases came after the announcement of the Armistice – which saw great crowds in the streets of the town, first, outside the offices of the County Standard, to read the official notice, confirming rumours of the end of the war, and then to celebrate. Unfortunately, of course, those celebrations were a perfect opportunity for the virus to spread – and were soon helped by the enormous transit of troops.
As a garrison town, Colchester obviously had large numbers of men passing through, arriving and departing by train, with many spreading the ‘flu, as they went. In November, 1918, 10 patients a day were dying in the Military Hospital – and their bodies were then put into coffins and taken to North Station, to be returned to their families!
Colchester Borough Council had leaflets delivered to every home, setting out advice for keeping fit, and avoiding the infection. This included keeping warm, and sleeping with good ventilation. People were advised to avoid crowded areas, getting cold, or tired, and excess alcohol. Theatres and cinemas were disinfected, after every performance. The County Standard opined that the precautions were “somewhat meagre”, and 323 people were said to have died in Colchester, by 1919.
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Tina Powell
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Those at greatest risk were adults aged 20-40 and death would often occur within hours of the first symptoms. Sybil Stanford, the fifth of auctioneer's Charles Stanford's 7 daughters (and 5 sons) (right) had joined the Voluntary Aid Detachment – civilians, who nursed military personnel. She fell ill, on the day she was due to finish work at the American Red Cross Hospital, in Lancaster Gate, London – and died, two days later, aged 20. She was buried in St Paul’s churchyard, Belle Vue Road, near her parents’ Braiswick home.
Corporal Sidney Bowman had survived life on the front line, but, within hours of reaching his Nunns Road home, was taken ill, and later died, in the Military Hospital, “after escaping all the dangers of battle”.
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