#history
I keep hate-reading plague literature from the medieval era, but as depressed as it makes me there is always one historical tidbit that makes me feel a little bittersweet and I like to revisit it. That’s the story of the village of Eyam.
Eyam today is a teeny tiny town of less than a thousand people. It has barely grown since 1665 when its population was around 800.
Where the story starts with Eyam is that in August 1665 the village tailor and his assistant discovered that a bolt of cloth that they had bought from London was infested with rat fleas. A few days later on September 7th the tailor’s assistant George Viccars died from plague.
Back then people didn’t fully understand how disease spread, but they knew in a basic sense that it did spread and that the spread had something to do with the movement of people.
So two religios leaders in the town, Thomas Stanley and William Mompesson, got together and came up with a plan. They would put the entire village of Eyam under quarantine. And they did. For over a year nobody went in and nobody went out.
They put up signs on the edge of town as warning and left money in vinegar filled basins that people from out of town would leave food and supplies by.
Over the 14 months that Eyam was in quarantine 260 out of the 800 residents died of plague. The death toll was high, the cost was great.
However, they did successfully prevent the disease from spreading to the nearby town of Sheffield, even then a much bigger town, and likely saved the lives of thousands of people in the north of England through their sacrifice.
So I really like this story, because it’s a sad story, because it’s also a beautiful story. Instead of fleeing everyone in this one place agreed that they would stay, and they saved thousands of people. They stayed just to save others and I guess it’s one of those good stories about how people have always been people, for better or worse.
It gets better.
Here’s the thing. One third of the residents of Eyam died during their quarantine, but the Black Plague was known to have a NINETY PERCENT death rate. As high as the toll was, it wasn’t as high as it should have been. And a few hundred years later, some historians and doctors got to wondering why.
Fortunately, Eyam is one of those wonderful places that really hasn’tchanged much in hundreds of years. Researchers, going to visit, found that many of the current residents were direct descendants of the plague survivors from the 1600s. By doing genetic testing, they learned that a high number of Eyam residents carried a gene that made them immune to the plague. And still do.
And it gets even better than that, because the gene that blocks the Black Plague? Also turns out to block AIDS, and was instrumental in helping to find effective medication for people who have HIV and AIDS in the 21st century.
Here is a lovely, well-produced documentary about Eyam and its disease resistance. It’s a little under an hour. Trigger warning for general disease and epidemic-type stuff, but also, maybe it will help you have some hope in these alarmly uncertain times.
Eyam, it turns out, is pronounced “Eem” not “Ee-yam”, so I’ve been doing it wrong for years.
A BBC TV production of the play “The Roses of Eyam” is on YouTube.
LETS BRING BACK 1337 SPEAK
why do i even try
I THoUGHT YOU MEANT THE YEAR
my l0rd, t3h p34s4nt5 4r3 r3v01t1ng! W3 mu5t s411y f0rth 4g41n5t th3m 4thw1th!
man yall the interpersonal drama in ancient rome was something else like. there was a guy named crassus who had a pet eel and was so sad when it died that he gave it a funeral, and when another dude named domitius ahenobarbus made fun of him for throwing an eel funeral, crassus was like “oh so this is coming from the guy who’s buried three of his wives and not even shed a single tear about it.” wish i could’ve been in the room for that one
“We can judge the heart of a man by his treatment of animals.”
Now I bet most of you have heard of the famous ‘Coming of Age Day’ (Seijin no Hi・成人の日) which celebrates youths transition into adulthood at the tender age of 20. But here is a celebration which I have noticed most people outside of Japan are not so familiar with, 7-5-3 (Shichi-Go-San・七-五-三) which happens every year on November 15.
7-5-3 (Shichi-Go-San・七-五-三) is day which both celebrates and prays for the growth of healthy children. The significance of the ages 7, 5 and 3 are that they are the celebrated milestone years for children in Japan. Much like how many eastern countries celebrate certain ages, i.e. 3, 10, 13 and 16.
The reasons for these particular ages, dates back to the “medieval” times of samurai and aristocrats families (web-japan.org), these ages saw the following:
- 3 years old: Both boys and girls of 3 years stopped having their hair shaven and were permitted to grow their hair out.
- 5 years old: Boys of 5 years could don a ‘hakama’ in public for the first time.
- 7 years old: Girl could begin using an ‘obi’ sash to tie their kimonos instead of the cords at the age of 7.
By the time of the Edo period (1603-1868) the ‘common’ folk of Japan were also celebrating these customs and began to visit shrines with prayers and offering for their children’s healthy growth. This custom/celebration is not a part of a holiday thus people celebrating this day can often be seen at the shrine the weekend before or after November 15th(ginkoya.com).
Mammals both produce milk and have hair. Ergo, a coconut is a mammal.
I know you’re being facetious, but this is an actual issue with morphology-based phylogeny.
*leans over and whispers to person beside me* what are they talking about
*holds up plucked chicken* BEHOLD, A MAN
I set off to find a hidden WW2 plane crash on the northmost tip of Vancouver Island. Join me for a road trip as I take a break from fiction to tell the true story of the Dakota 576.