Corden Sanitaire
Her beautiful features had been obscured by a forlorn expression which tainted her face. She stood between two large strange stones which had not been there the previous week. I wondered why there were there now.
She wore a long purple dress with her usual white bonnet and a small but elegant pinafore. Her silky blonde hair was neatly tucked under her bonnet. She didn't look up at me until I was only a few metres away. I knew that something was wrong immediately and as the cold wing held its force against me, I walked until I was stopped. Emmott held her hands up in a gesture that caused me to halt.
"Dear Rowland," she spoke to me sadly. I could barely hear her over the roar of the wind. "I am in an uncomfortable state and have brought bad news with my tongue."
"Emmott?" I asked confused by her formality. This was not the girl I knew. My Emmott was kind and cheerful and never let anything get the better of her. She always held her head up high and a smile on her face but this Emmott who stood before me was different. She was solemn and anxious. Her face dripped with concern.
"Eyam has been placed under Corden Sanitaire due to what the doctors believe is the Plague." She spoke the word quickly and carelessly hoping I would take them as a man. I did not. The words cut through me like a knife, nonetheless the next four words she spoke made the wounds I had already encountered deepen and bleed uncontrollably.
"We cannot meet anymore." My heart split. "I have already broken the rules this past week but it has come to a point where I cannot ignore the truth any longer." She paused and took a deep breath in but as she spoke again I saw a single tear fall over her cheek.
"Sarah has caught the disease and is close to dying. I am afraid, Rowland. Not for my life but for yours, for Britain… Eyam put itself under quarantine for a reason and I am afraid that if we keep meeting like so then I will spread the disease and the villager's efforts will be wasted." She cried, "It is for the greater good, Rowland dear!"
I stood motionless. Unable to speak. Unable to process the words she had spoken. Unable to use casual body functions – blinking – breathing. The wind howled through the valley and I felt as if I was about to fly away. I would welcome it. I didn't want the words she was speaking to be true.
"Rowland, please say something." She whispered.
"How?" is all I could say. The words I wished to speak had stuck to the back of my throat and no matter how much I tried; I couldn't say what I wanted. Rage was gradually building inside of me but I was uncertain where or who it was directed at.
"It is believed that it was carried in a basket of clothing from London. It was sent to George Viccars. He passed away on the 7th of September."
"No!" I wouldn't allow this! The rage and confusion I was holding inside of me suddenly erupted out in an explosion of irrational thoughts and ideas, "You must come with me! To Stoney Middleton, you can stay with me in my father's mill until it is over."
"Rowland," her tone had changed, it was firm, like she was speaking to a child, "you know that we cannot do that, being here now is a risk itself."
"Please don't leave me Emmott, I love you." I spoke hastily. I could see that I was hurting her. She didn't want this either but I couldn't stop myself from pleading with her. "Marry me Emmott Syddall. Please may I have your hand in marriage?"
She gasped.
The wind stopped abruptly.
We stood staring at each other for what felt like a lifetime.
"We must never touch." She said. At first I was confused but soon realised that this was her way of saying that we could keep meeting like this. "Next Sunday. Noon. After Church. Meet me here and please Rowland, promise me one thing."
"Anything my love."
"Do not pass the boundary stones." She looked at each side of her where the two large new granite stones stood, holes carved out of the top of them. I agree and she left. I watched her until she descended the hill and left my range of sight, wiping a tear from her cheeks. I shed my own tears.
Sunday 1st October 1665
Dear Diary,
Emmott's sister has passed away and Emmott is now becoming more and more fearful because the disease is spreading quickly. Eight citizens of Eyam have now been pronounced dead and Eyam's Rector, Mr Mompesson has thought of new ways to decrease the risk of catching the disease, such as conducting Prayer in wide open spaces such as Cucklet Delph. Emmott still looks on the brighter side of life as she states that she doesn't have to walk as far to meet me. I love Emmott. For many reasons, my favourite however, is her humour! Even in the darkest of eras when one of her siblings has just passed away she still finds something to joke about. She still keeps a positive attitude and attacks the Plague as it rages through her village. I so dearly want to enter Eyam and stay by her side during this gruelling period of death and disease but Emmott will not let me touch her. Besides, I promised that I would not pass through the boundary stones. At least not until the church bells ring. My love said that when the church bells ring, it will state the end of the Plague in Eyam.
Sunday 15th October 1665
Dear Diary,
My dear Emmott cried today. Two more of her siblings, Richard her only brother and Ellen, her eldest sister, have left this world. Ellen only passed on this morning. Her father has also passed away and Emmott fears that her mother will not cope without him. I shed tears of my own after I returned to my home. Emmott should not be facing this alone and yet this quarantine which should be a benefit feels more and more like a curse. Why is the Lord punishing Emmott's family? What has the little town of Eyam ever done to deserve such devastation? Such destruction of families, friends and the heart?
They say that the Plague down in London is so much more appalling then here and I cannot begin to imagine just what amount of terrors lie in those streets. I pity every soul that is being tortured by this hell. I pray every night. Emmott is my priority and main concern but I pray for everyone else too. However, the thing I pray most, is that my beloved Emmott shall live till the church bells cry out across the gulf of the valley.
And so the days passed as so, every week on a Sunday after Church, Emmott and I would meet atop that steep uneven hill with only two boundary stones dividing us. As the months passed I grew restless and increasingly distressed. The number of deaths per month was slowly climbing and my mind began to churn evil thoughts in my head. The devil gave me those thoughts to be sure. The stifling heat of summer would keep me awake at night and the images of Emmott, lying in her bed covered in bleeding boils and coughing erratically, coughing up blood and slowly and painfully dying would flash through my mind. Killing me slowly from the inside. The thoughts gave me many sleepless nights but there was one day that halted my sleep all together.
It was late April 1666 and the morning dew had long since evaporated making my treacherous journey up the hill easy and less slippery. I felt strange inside, as if something was missing but I continued on until I reached the top. Slightly to my right I could see the top of some of the Eyam cottages but then my attention was drawn to the empty spot where my beloved one usually stood. Emmott was not there. I didn't panic at first, believing that possibly she was just late. Bathing in my own denial I waited patiently until I heard the bells from my own village chime. Three o'clock and still Emmott had not come.
My brain began imaging scenarios that cut like knifes inside my heart. I couldn't stop myself. I panicked. I was petrified. Why wasn't she there? Why had she not arrived?
I waited and waited until the sky darkened and with a heavy and wounded heart, I left walking back down towards my own village of Stoney Middleton.
I continued to go to Cucklet Delph to meet with my sweet but she never arrived. After that dreadful day of April, I never slept and whenever I managed to drift off I would be awakened by the images conjured within my head. I feared. I cried. I scolded myself for not taking her with me whilst I had the chance. I blamed myself. I blamed God. I blamed Emmott. I felt guilty. I cried more and more and as time grew, so did my fears. What had happened to her?
It wasn't until the 1st December 1666 on a cold thunderous and utterly wet winter's day that, early in the morning when it was still dark, I heard a faint and distant ringing. The bells! Eyam's bells cried into the morning air. I awoke suddenly from a fitful slumber confused and disorientated.
I immediately got changed and made my way through or village, passing my fathers flour mill on the way. I arrived at the base of the tall hill and took a deep breath in. The rain lashed down causing a rivulet of muddy water to attack me head on. I clambered up the hill wobbling from side to side at the uneven, sloppy ground. I felt my feet slip from beneath me. The sensation of falling echoed in my mind and abruptly my face hit the soft wet mud below. I slipped down the hill slightly grabbing out onto anything I could. A small rock found my hand and I managed to cling on. I had to get to Emmott. I had to find her house, Bagshaw House. I had to. My brain screamed at me until I was able to pull myself up, placing my foot just above the rock so that I wouldn't slip again. Lactic acid stung my thighs and arms as the battle against man and nature continued.
Eventually, I reached the top of the hill just as the rain began to subside. I saw a dark black cloud hanging above Eyam and something inside me told me to be very careful. A feeling of menace overwhelmed me. I ran to the boundary stones looking at the coins which had been left in the little carved out areas on top. I placed my hands on the stones and brought my foot through. This was the first time I had been back in Eyam's territory for just over a year. My heart thumped in my chest and as I forced my other foot through the gap I immediately began to sprint again. Wildlife grew either side of me, animals sheltering beneath trees away from the gale force winds and freezing rain. I began to shiver. My mind raced, faster then my feet. My breathing was uncontrollable. Quick deep breaths were all that sustained me. Soon enough the rain slowed until it was just a few minor spots.
I found myself in a large area. Grass centred in the middle of four small dirt roads. A large stone cross stood in the centre of the grass area. Across from myself I saw a beautiful public house called The Miners Arms. It was empty and deserted. Just like the streets of Eyam were.
The village reeked of a putrid stench I had only smelled once before in my life. It was the stench of death. Dead corpses rotting behind closed curtains. I heard faint sounds of someone weeping. I saw devastation in it worst form. I had to find Emmott. I had to hold her in my arms. I had to know why she had not arrived after that dreadful day of April. I could not allow my thoughts to be true. If they were then I had nothing left to live for.
A lonely villager was walking solemnly towards me. I walked straight into her path and asked, "Do you know Bagshaw House?" She looked at me blankly. "The Syddall residence, do you know where the Syddall's live?"
A pitying expression crossed her face as she told me, "across… the church. Across from the church." She pointed me down one of the four roads and I, in my rush, left without my manners. She continued on her mindless journey.
I followed the road around until I came to the corner of the churchyard. It was full with graves. Bordering on being over-run. I didn't stop to look. I couldn't, my heart would not take the pain of so many deaths. My mind was set on one thing and one thing only. My eyes stared at the houses across the street, I read the names until I found Emmott's house. It looked deathly hollow as if not a soul lived there anymore. I knew I should have knocked on the door or at least made some effort to introduce myself to its remaining dwellers but my feet would not move and my brain had shut down completely. I stared at its hollow windows, and like eyes full of sympathy and woe, they stared back. It was a small semi-detached cottage with hanging flower baskets surrounding its doors. The flowers were still alive but unattended and slowly wilting.
My eyes focused on the roof as the rain slid off it. A dark heavy cloud sat behind her house, ready to burst.
Suddenly a small fragile-looking woman was stood in the frame of the door. It was Emmott's mother, Elizabeth Syddall. She stared at me with bitter eyes. I took a step forwards. She never moved. But she spoke in a calm and remorseful voice.
Quietly she said, "Are you Rowland Torre?" Emmott had told me she had never mentioned me to her family before. I didn't understand how her mother now knew my name. She continued without my answer nonetheless. "Emmott told me that you had been meeting with her. I thought it was selfish of her but I understood."
"Where is Emmott?" I didn't realise how discourteous I sounded until I had said it. I was so abrupt with her. I was speaking to an old fragile woman whose heart had been shattered time and time again and yet I was still hasty with her. I should have been sensitive and caring towards her, offering my support but I only cared about one thing. Emmott.
"She is in heaven." Mrs Syddall let the tears pour over hear cheeks and my mind went blank. "The 29th of April. I am the only survivor of our family… my husband… our children… all dead… and long since buried." She broke down into tears.
It began to rain again and my own tears mixed with the rain. So it was true. My heart had been ripped from my chest. I had known all this time but I had not allowed myself to believe it. I had been in denial all this time. The hole in my chest felt heavy as if the rain was slowly filling the gap. A great gulf of emptiness filled me. I felt like screaming.
How?
Why?
What had Emmott done to deserve this?
What had I done to deserve this?
My heart was broken and beating no longer. My body shivered in the cold rain but I didn't register the movement. Elizabeth Syddall was still talking but I was not listening. She gestured for me to enter her house. I took a step back finally free from my trance. I would not enter the house where my beloved darling had died! I took another step back. Emmott's mother had a look of confusion and loneliness painted on her face. I cried out in internal agony. I turned. I ran. Emmott's mother didn't follow.
The rain poured with a black sky. Washing the impurities of Eyam away. Washing the disease away ready for a clean start and as I cried I felt as if I wasn't alone. The whole village in unison gave out one last sob before being swallowed up in the thunderstorm.
People soon forgot. They became selfish. They didn't care what had happened. They only cared that their own lives had not been ruined by the Plague. All because of those brave, self-less, caring people who lived in a little place called Eyam.
Emmott Syddall. Rest in peace my love.