LONDON, U.K. -- I checked in this week with the village of Eyam.
All those who sounded out the name as 鈥淓ee-yam,鈥 raise your beautifully disinfected hands. Don鈥檛 feel bad. It鈥檚 one of those odd complications of Britain鈥檚 rich Anglo-Saxon heritage. What you see is not what you say.
The way Gloucester becomes 鈥淕loster鈥 and Berkshire becomes 鈥淏arksher.鈥
So if you pronounced Eyam as 鈥淓em鈥 you are far better read than most of us.
It鈥檚 a pretty village, planted centuries ago in the rolling hills Derbyshire鈥攎ake that 鈥淒arbysher.鈥
Pretty in a spooky, ghostly way.
You see,
We鈥檙e talking about the bubonic plague here, which arrived in in a bale of donated clothing from London, in the fall of 1665. It鈥檚 a tale of unwitting generosity and rapid death.
By the way, bubonic plague still exists today and kills a few people every year.
As the story goes, a tailor鈥檚 apprentice by the name of George Viccars opened the bale of mildewed clothes and hung them out to dry. He was the first to die.
Don鈥檛 click away now; this is just getting morbidly interesting.
In those days, everybody thought the plague was caused by toxic, rotting air鈥攎iasma. But, it was really carried by fleas, and that鈥檚 what jumped out at poor George Viccars and soon spread through the village.
Here comes the best part.
The local vicar persuaded the good people of Eyam that it was their Godly duty to self-quarantine and stop the epidemic from spreading to other villages.
In other words, to accept a likely death sentence.
By the following August, half a dozen people were dying every day. Elizabeth Hancock buried her husband and six of their children over the course of eight days.
Tragic and horrific to contemplate, but it worked. By the next year the plague was gone. Many village lives were lost, but many more outside were saved.
Eyam is once again under a form of 鈥渃ordon sanitaire,鈥 dealing with a new plague, and life under lockdown.
What鈥檚 happening this time is history-in-reverse. People aren鈥檛 worried about the virus getting out; they鈥檙e worried about it getting in.
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I had a good chat with Annette Bindon who used to be head of the Village Society and now spends much of her pandemic time in her large garden.
There have been a couple of COVID-19 cases she told me, but thank God, no deaths. Can you imagine the kind of wild tabloid headlines that would generate: 鈥淒eath Stalks Plague Village.鈥
The current rector and his wife were apparently ill. Everybody else, said Annette, is more or less self-isolating, as they did in 1665.
鈥淎nywhere that isn鈥檛 an essential service is closed.鈥
Eyam鈥檚 population is under 1,000 but of course during the summer, it buzzes with plague tourism. You can still visit some of the gravestones. Not this year, and that鈥檚 okay with Annette, if it saves lives.
鈥淓arly on,鈥 she said, 鈥渢here was a bit of anxiety because people from the cities were calling to see if they could still visit Eyam.鈥
For now, the village that stopped the plague seems in no hurry to entertain.