The Lancashire Plague Petitions: Life after the Plague in Early Modern England

Abstract

Historians typically explore the resilience of past societies in terms of large-scale outcomes like population levels. In contrast, this paper explores the process of recovering from outbreaks of plague in smaller communities, households, and even by individuals. In doing so, it examines resilience on a micro-level in terms of the economic, emotional, and practical concerns of individuals following a period of crisis. This paper showcases six early modern petitions, each transcribed here in full, providing insight into the responses of communities to severe outbreaks of epidemic disease. These sources reveal the practical measures required to foster resilience: each petition demonstrates a series of unique needs and essential interventions. The usual systems of relief proved inadequate when faced with the unprecedented demands of plague. This made the bonds between friends and neighbors crucial to the survival of their communities. Only when these bonds were pushed to their breaking point did early modern people turn to authorities. These petitions show us when and why those points were reached.

Within the social sciences, scholars have drawn attention to the potential for ideas about resilience to perpetuate inequalities. Consequently, many scholars are moving away from a definition of resilience that includes or revolves around a sense of personal responsibility—treating resilience as a skill that anyone from any background can build, for instance—toward a wider definition that takes into account “broader, person-environment interactions.”¹ Petitions represent a largely untapped resource for the study of resilience in early modern society. I have selected six petitions submitted to the Lancashire Court of Quarter Sessions that highlight the struggles faced by individuals following major outbreaks of plague. Together, they form a small collection I call “The Lancashire Plague Petitions.” They have been selected from a larger collection of Quarter Sessions petitions held in the Lancashire Archives, and they reveal some of the practical interventions needed by even the poorest individuals, households, and communities to foster resilience and allow normal life to resume following a major upheaval.

Based on this evidence, I argue that the usual forms of poor relief sanctioned by the crown were unable to cope with the extraordinary demands of a plague outbreak. Resilience and recovery, in the first instance, were largely enabled at the parish level by neighbors, friends, and family members. It was only when these communal and familial bonds were pushed to the breaking point that individuals petitioned local authorities for assistance. The petitions discussed below reveal the moment when community support no longer sufficed and demonstrate a series of unique needs and essential interventions made by the Court of Quarter Sessions. More importantly, they offer rare and valuable insight into the bonds that sustained early modern communities prior to seeking institutional assistance.

In his pioneering study into the development of poor relief in Lancashire, Jonathan Healey argues that the value of poor relief petitions lies in the “startlingly evocative qualitative picture they present of the lives of the poor.”² This is precisely what the Lancashire Plague Petitions offer: a street-level perspective of an early modern society recovering from moments of intense crisis. Dating from between 1631 and 1653, these petitions allow us to reconstruct the immediate concerns of ordinary people following an outbreak of plague through a series of deeply personalized narratives.

A sample of the petitions submitted to the Lancashire Quarter Sessions Court relating to plague has been selected for this article based on the richness of their narratives and their significance to the history of resilience. Each document offers insight into the days, weeks, or months following a severe outbreak of plague, and allows us to observe the assistance required for individuals to recover from such an upheaval.

 

Recent scholarship has demonstrated the ubiquitous nature of petitions in early modern England and their potential for accessing the concerns of traditionally marginalized communities.³ But they have not been used to explore experiences of and recovery from outbreaks of plague. The petitions selected for this article were all submitted to the Lancashire Courts of Quarter Sessions. The state required that Quarter Sessions be held in most counties four times a year: at Epiphany (January), Easter, Midsummer, and Michaelmas (Autumn). They were presided over by justices of the peace and dealt with a range of criminal, civil, and administrative issues. These meetings also provided an opportunity for individuals to address authorities and seek their assistance through formal petitions. The authors of the petitions printed here are from a diverse range of backgrounds, and some of them would likely have been obscured from the historical record if not for these requests. In most cases, they were not written directly by the petitioner, but on their behalf by a local scribe. Olivia Weisser reminds us that while petitions of this kind offer “rare insights into the lives of illiterate men and women,” they arrive to us mediated through the words of others.⁴ These sources reflect a collaborative effort, comprising a mix of the petitioner’s testimony and formulaic legal phrases. Nevertheless, the result of this collaboration between petitioner and scribe retains a wealth of personal experience. Where possible, each document has been fully transcribed. The layout and format of the transcriptions remain faithful to the original, and original spellings have been maintained throughout. Abbreviations have been expanded in brackets where appropriate to assist with legibility. The photographs of each petition were taken by me and have been reproduced here with permission from the Lancashire Archives.

Document 1

Expenses for isolating six men during the plague (Halsall, c. 1650)

The first document in this series is a note found among petitions submitted to the Ormskirk sessions in Midsummer 1650, possibly alongside a more formal petition that no longer survives. It lists expenses for the isolation of six men. Toward the end of the note, we learn that the parish of Halsall—a small village in West Lancashire, close to Ormskirk, which was grievously affected by plague in the summer of 1650—is held responsible for maintaining a watch on all six men.⁵ Authorities throughout the early modern period used both publicly operated pesthouses and household quarantine to isolate infected individuals, their households, and anyone who may have encountered the disease. Orders to quarantine infected households had been enforced across England since 1578.⁶ The process was described by contemporaries as “shutting up,” as the doors of a home would often be padlocked by a local constable, securing all living inhabitants inside. The door might then be marked with a red cross and the words “Lord have mercy upon us” to warn passers-by of its infected status.⁷ Despite widespread use throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the issue of quarantine remained hotly contested. Kira Newman has identified “a popular narrative that portrayed quarantine and isolation as a personal punishment rather than prudent policy.”⁸ This narrative found voice in a range of contemporary printed pamphlets, including the anonymous The Shutting Up Infected Houses as It Is Practiced in England Soberly Debated (1665), which lists several reasons why the policy is not only inhumane but ineffectual.⁹

The expenses listed in the document duplicated above provide a clear breakdown of costs incurred during quarantine in a private household. We do not know who the owner of the house was, nor is it clear whether they were shut up with the six confined men or if they simply supplied the premises for quarantine. The first line of the note informs us that the men were quarantined for twenty-two days, beginning June 23^rd. However, a somewhat illegible note toward the bottom of the page appears to correct this initial statement, asserting that the men in fact arrived on June 17^th, meaning that their stay lasted twenty-eight days. The totals toward the bottom of the page indicate the extra fees incurred for an additional six days of quarantine—charges for the men’s diet, beer, candles, and tobacco, as well as washing their clothes and hiring watchmen for both day and night. We often think of pesthouses and household quarantine as policies directed at the poor, since wealthy residents had the money, time, and resources to flee disease. However, if we are to assume that the term “gentlemen” has been used here to signify members of the gentry, this document reminds us that the plague did not distinguish between rich and poor: even the upper echelons of early modern society could fall victim. The fact that the charges incurred by the four gentlemen were kept largely separate from the charges incurred by the two “men” increases the likelihood that we are seeing rare evidence of gentry in quarantine. The inclusion of three pounds of tobacco may suggest that wealthy locals expected to maintain a certain standard of living, even while in quarantine, although tobacco may also have been used for its medicinal properties.¹⁰ It is notable that, despite their apparent elite status, the gentlemen were not trusted to remain quarantined without proper watch and ward. Two men during the day and three men at night were entrusted with keeping watch over the house to prevent an escape. The parish of Halsall was instructed to keep a “strong watch” as well, or risk suffering a hefty hundred pound fine. An inscription in a different hand on the reverse side states that the men were to be allowed six pence each for the twenty-two days past and, crucially, “to haue the like allowance vntill they may bee discharged.” Household quarantine was not, in this instance at least, considered a death sentence. The men were to receive an allowance until they were set free.

We will never know who the unnamed gentlemen were, or why they were considered such a risk by the courts. We will never know why they were quarantined or how many survived the process. We do know, however, that the owner or proprietor of the property survived long enough to submit a claim for the expenses. In addition to providing a rare snapshot into the experience of isolation, this small note demonstrates the material toll of plague. Maintaining quarantined residents, particularly members of the elite, was an exceedingly costly process; recouping expenses from the courts was an essential part of recovery.

Document 2

Warrant for assessment for Thomas Wilson, webster, for expenses during plague (Cockerham, October 1651)

Cockerham is a small village and civil parish six miles south of the City of Lancaster in Lancashire.¹¹ A note in the Cockerham parish register informs us that the plague arrived in the town on July 14, 1650, claiming the lives of sixty-two individuals before receding on October 8; the vast majority of plague deaths occurred in July and August.¹² Children appear to have been particularly afflicted as twenty two of the total deaths listed are nameless children. In some cases, entire families succumbed to the disease. There were eleven deaths in the Braid (or Brade) family, and the Fisher family lost three children in a single day. Mr. Thomas Smith, the parish minister, was also a victim. It is against this bleak backdrop that we meet Thomas Wilson, a webster or weaver from Cockerham.

The warrant seen above informs us that Wilson had been employed by two former constables of Cockerham to “watch the infected people for breaking forth and to carry p[ro]vision unto them.” As in the previous example, infected households in Lancashire were confined, usually for a period of up to forty days. A watchman or two would be ordered to guard the house, day and night, to prevent inhabitants from escaping. Where the previous document provided insight into the experience of living under a quarantine order, this document illuminates the process from the perspective of a watchman. The threat posed by the escape of infected residents was taken extremely seriously by the authorities. In May 1649, eight prominent individuals, including Ambrose Jolley, then mayor of Wigan, signed their names to a distressing account entitled “A true representation of the present sad and lamentable condition of the County of Lancaster,” which states that “there [are] no bonds to keep in the infected hunger-starved poore, whose breaking out jeopardeth all the neighbourhood.”¹³

Thomas Wilson carried out his essential duties of watching and providing for twenty weeks. He was promised five shillings per week for his efforts. However, when the document was written, he had received only twenty shillings in total, with four pounds outstanding. The inhabitants of Cockerham had refused to pay the sum “according to their Contract” with Wilson. The warrant is signed by George Toulnson, justice of the peace and former mayor of Lancaster.¹⁴ There is a sense of urgency in some of the document’s language, as the constables of Cockerham are ordered “immediately upon receipt” to assess the inhabitants of their village for the outstanding amount. Toulnson ends the document by indicating the consequences for failing to heed his instructions, writing “Otherwise you are to bee and p[er]sonally appear before mee and my fellow justices vpon Tuesday next to shew cause to the Contrary. Faile not hereof.”

This threatening language does not seem to have succeeded. On October 14, 1649, an order was issued once again instructing the inhabitants of Cockerham “at or before the feast day of St Martin the bishop in this winter next ensueing, pay unto Tho Wilson of Cockerham, webster, the some of foure pounds due unto him.”¹⁵ The warrant thus provides insight into how the plague could continue to impact the lives of those who survived it, long after the last person had succumbed to the disease. Plague workers such as Thomas Wilson appealed to the courts to be reimbursed for their essential work, but the appeals were not always successful. A prominent member of the community, Wilson was able to entreat George Toulnson to intervene on his behalf. Wilson does not appear in the sessions records after this second order, suggesting that perhaps his petition was successful. The reimbursement of wages for plague workers represents another essential intervention needed to assist in the “resilience” of a community.

Document 3

Petition by Richard Wrinston for maintenance of two children, one orphaned by the plague (Abram & Westleigh, March 1632)

The next document allows us to explore the experience of a plague worker much lower down on the social scale. The petition made to the Ormskirk sessions in 1631 and addressed to John Bridgeman, bishop of Chester (1577–1652), was for the maintenance of the children of Ellinor Johnes, one of whom had been orphaned by the plague.¹⁶ It was unusual for a bishop to serve on commissions of the peace in this period. Bishop Bridgeman seems to have been a member of a “dignitary group,” men who were often named in the commission because of their status as local peers or holders of nationally important offices. Members of such groups rarely attended sessions, but Bridgeman was unusual: he took his role as a justice seriously, attending at least one meeting of quarter sessions every year between 1626 and 1631.¹⁷

Although not the petitioner, Ellinor is very much the focus of this story. From the limited details we can glean about her life, we learn that in September 1631, Ellinor was employed by the parish of West Leigh to cleanse the home of her neighbor, James Dunster, after the death of his family due to plague. She was to receive fifty shillings for undertaking this exceedingly dangerous task. After leaving her eight-year-old son in the care of our petitioner, Richard Wrinston and his wife, Ellinor “died therin,” suggesting that she became infected during the course of her role as a plague cleanser. After her death, authorities not only refused to accommodate Ellinor’s son, but also failed to pay the fifty shillings Ellinor was owed by the parish. Wrinston and his wife had also taken in another child of Ellinor’s, an illegitimate girl named Mary. They informed the bishop that Mary’s father, James Lowe, was still alive and that they could prove him to be the child’s father. Lowe, it seems, had previously paid out for Mary’s maintenance, but following Ellinor’s death had refused to take Mary in or pay for her care.

This example shows the way emergency measures taken during the plague might extend into the period after its disappearance. Ellinor’s son had been placed into the care of Richard Wrinston and his wife as a temporary measure while she completed the dangerous task of cleansing an infected home. Although all parties must have understood that some risk was involved, neither Wrinston nor his wife would have expected to take on permanent responsibility for two children, having agreed initially to care for one child over the course of a few days. The issue of childcare was a serious problem for authorities in the days and weeks following an outbreak of plague, as well as an essential part of the recovery process for communities. In this instance, the unexpected need for a long-term solution necessitated intervention from the courts. When Ellinor’s skills were required, a temporary solution to accommodate her children was found within the community; it was only when this solution proved inadequate, through an unexpected death, that the community turned to the authorities to provide further assistance or establish permanent arrangements for the orphaned children.

Document 4

Petition by Ellen Anderton for maintenance and wages for caring for the children of Thomas Starkie, who died of plague (Wigan, c. 1649–50)

One of the most common petitions to the Court of Quarter Sessions in the aftermath of a plague outbreak concerned the maintenance of orphaned children. Children who had lost their families to the disease were placed into the care of surviving relatives; when none could be found, they were placed into the care of neighbors and friends. For example, the “humble peticone of Anne Ashawe, widowe” tells us that the wife of James Leyland left behind a one-year-old infant. After his wife’s death, Leyland asked our peticitioner, Anne, to “keepe that Child for a quarter of a yeare w[i]th premisse to satisfy her sufficientlie & fynde it clothes.” Anne was given seven shillings “in hande” for her services, but within nine days of this agreement, Leyland and his apprentice had died of the plague. Anne provided the orphaned child with “meate drinke & all other necessaries fittinge,” but told the court that she was “a pore woman.” Consequently, she was “not onlie vnable to forbeare her paym[en]te but alsoe desirous to bee Rid of the Child in respecte shee is aged & hath receaved great losses.”¹⁸

Not all petitioners desired to be rid of the children in their care. As the example transcribed demonstrates, some grew fond of their charges and simply wished to have support from the court to help keep the children in their custody. Ellen Anderton petitioned the Wigan sessions in 1650 for maintenance of the children of Thomas Starkie. We are told that Thomas Starkie and his wife had both died “of the sicknes” during the region’s recent eruption of plague. Parish registers provide a little more detail. Thomas Starkie died on April 4, 1649, “att the Cabins,” one of seventeen deaths “at the cabins” in April of that year. His wife, Elizebeth, died five days earlier, on March 30, 1649. Elizebeth’s was one of sixteen deaths in March listed explicitly in the register as “Plague” deaths.

We do not know how old the children were, only that they are described in the petition as “litle infantes.” When Elizebeth and Thomas died, their children were left “destitute and altogether voyd of frends helpe and releiffe” and “vpon the brincke of overthrow.” The alderman (then mayor) had asked our petitioner, Ellen Anderton, to live with the children, promising both maintenance and additional wages for her efforts. Ellen did as he asked, even treating the children who all appear to have been suffering from the disease: “the youngest wench is now quite laymed,” Ellen wrote. “[E]ver since,” the petition continues, “shee hath taken loue (love) to them and they to her soe that shee hath continued w[i]th them to this p[re]sent,” even though she had not received the maintenance or other payments she was promised. The family now found themselves in such a “miserable poore and famishing condition,” that she would be forced to leave the children, “which willbee to their utter overthrowe and undoinge.”¹⁹ Ellen had tended to the orphaned children on her own for as long as she could; without immediate financial assistance from the courts, she would be forced to abandon them.

This example is unique not only because of the glimpse it offers into the mechanics and logistics of maintaining plague orphans—Ellen’s relocation to live with the children, her role in providing them medical treatment—but also because it offers rare insight into the emotions of a woman experiencing a life-altering change of circumstance. As with all petitions, it remains unclear how far Ellen was able to craft or manipulate the petition’s language. But it is significant that either Ellen or her scribe included such a poignant statement: Ellen loved the children, and they loved her in return. The essential intervention here is clear: Ellen required maintenance to enable her to continue caring for the orphaned children. This example also makes important points about the ways resilience was fostered, in that recovery may not be a return to “normal” life, or life before a crisis, but the ability to forge a completely new way of life instead.

Document 5

Recommendation for a collection for Jane Singleton’s losses by flood and embezzlement whilst isolated for plague (Cabus, 1641)

A small section of the document printed above has been omitted as it is largely indecipherable. What we can make out is that the document was written by “Wee the kings … justices” and addressed to members of the clergy across the counties of Lancashire, Yorkshire, and Cheshire. Additionally, the bottom left-hand corner of the document is missing, and general damage to the right-hand side makes the text difficult to read. Nevertheless, a transcription has been provided that is as complete as possible, and none of these issues detract from the overall comprehension. The document refers to a petition written by Jane Singleton, wife of the late William Singleton of Cabus in Garstang, a small town approximately twelve miles north of Preston. It details Jane’s experience “in the tyme of the visitac[i]on,” and her radical change of fortune. Jane had at one time owned an estate valued at two-hundred pounds. During an outbreak of plague, however, she was removed from her home and placed “in a barne for feare of the infeccon.” While she was isolating, a great quantity of Jane’s estate was stolen or embezzled. Not long after, a “sudden & violent spring flood” carried the remainder of her estate into the sea. Where Jane had once been in possession of substantial property, she was now unable to support her children, “not able to subsist from dayly begging unlesse some charitable course may bee taken.”

Jonathan Healey argues that for most early modern households, poverty occurred when two forces intersected. The first was marginality, determined by the socio-economic structure of a community. These were the households with few material possessions and persistently low incomes who were broadly at risk of destitution. The second was a misfortune that could take the form of a sudden sickness, an accident, a family breakdown, the onset of old age, or a wider economic crisis.²⁰ Plague was one such misfortune that could push even relatively comfortable households into poverty. As Paul Slack has argued, plague “confirmed the status of those already in poverty and reduced others to the same level.”²¹ Jane’s experience, then, was not unique. In a moving section of the “true representation of the present sad and lamentable condition of the County of Lancaster,” Jolley and his associates described the impact of plague on the economic stability of Lancashire society:

it would melt any good heart to see the numerous swarms of begging poore, and the many families that pine away at home, not having faces to beg. . .Very many nowe craving almes at other men’s dores, who were used to give others almes at their dores – to see paleness, nay death appear in the cheeks of the poor, and often to hear of some found dead in their houses, or highways, for want of bread.²²

The document shows, once again, that resilience may not be a return to “normal,” but may in some cases simply mean survival. The courts would not be able to restore Jane to her former level of stability and comfort, but they could help her to support her family.

Document 6

Letter stating that plague had ceased and requiring permission to resume trade (Preston, January 1631)

One way that significant losses incurred during outbreaks of plague could begin to be recompensed was through the resumption of trade and commerce. Then, as now, authorities tried to balance the necessity of commerce with the threat posed to public health and safety, knowing that a highly contagious disease could be spread from person-to-person contact. A bustling market was understood to be a severe threat to public health; authorities required assurance that the disease had completely died out before agreeing to reinstate markets and fairs. The 1631 outbreak of plague in Preston was one of the worst in the town’s history, killing approximately one-third of the inhabitants in little over a year.²³ A note in the parish register for November 1630 reads “heare begineth the visitation of Allmighty god, the plague.” The following November, a small, crudely sketched manicule points to a second note that reads “Plague ceased.”²⁴ As would be expected, the most severe death tolls occurred during the summer months, with the list of burials for July extending across twelve folios.

The document above can be found among the recognizances for the Wigan Epiphany sessions in 1632. The signatories seem to have been wealthy, established, elite men of Lancashire. Five of them—Thomas Walmesley, Henry Sudell, William Preston, John Hynde, and Henry Blundell—had served at least one term as mayor of Preston.²⁵ Two others, James Starkie and William Audland, are listed as a vicar and a parish clerk respectively. Starkie was educated at Cambridge and served as Vicar of Preston from 1630 to 1640, when he was appointed rector of North Meols.²⁶ In January 1632, these men combined their status and authority to influence the decision of the courts by requesting permission to resume trade in Preston following the devastation of the previous few months. Their letter begins by informing the sessions court of the “many hundreths” of deaths that had occurred in Preston due to the plague, before moving on to describe the impact that the loss of trade had on the town. They explain that many inhabitants had been driven “unto such greate penvrie through want of our Faeres, Marketts, Com[m]on Comerce & tradeinge,” and that if trade were not restored soon, “manie are like to famysh through want of allowance, the poore exceedinge in numbor the abler foulk.”

The resumption of trade and commerce was one element of resilience and recovery over which the community had very little power. They were dependent on the courts to reinstate the structures that formed the foundation of their livelihoods. This document raises important questions about the ends of epidemics. When was it safe to begin the long process of returning to “normal,” and who had license to decide? The authors of this letter make clear that the town had been free of the infection for seven weeks, with no plague deaths and only one death from natural causes occurring in that period. It is unclear whether this was a standard period of time to wait, or simply the opinion of those writing. Either way, this document provides a fascinating insight into plague policy and the logistics of reinstating the essential services suspended during an outbreak.

 

Historians typically explore the resilience of past societies in terms of large-scale outcomes like population levels.²⁷ By contrast, this article observes how smaller communities, households, and even individuals fostered resilience by exploring the process of recovering from outbreaks of plague, thereby providing an opportunity to investigate resilience on a micro-level, in terms of the economic, emotional, and practical concerns following a period of crisis.

The Lancashire Plague Petitions validate developments within the social sciences emphasizing that resilience and the capacity to withstand and recover from crises are not simply skills that can be developed independently. With limited tools at their disposal to prevent plague from entering a town, resilience in this context depended less on creating tools to prevent social breakdown, more on day-to-day management of the disease and supporting those affected by it. In short, an individual’s ability to foster resilience relied on essential interventions from others, either from neighbors and friends or more formal authorities. These petitions allow us to re-evaluate the historical processes we think of when we think of “resilience,” encouraging us to look more closely at the bonds that facilitate recovery. These rich sources reveal, often in moving detail, the role of authorities in facilitating resilience, but also the roles of friends, family members, neighbors, and the wider community.

Moreover, these sources demonstrate the diverse ways that resilience and recovery were facilitated. Plague was not experienced equally. Both in terms of mortality and policy, the poor consistently suffered harsher consequences from the disease than many of their social superiors. Nevertheless, with each wave of the disease, poor households recovered, resilience was fostered, and life resumed. This article demonstrates that just as plague was not experienced equally, nor was resilience fostered equally: each of the above petitions reveals a series of unique needs and essential interventions. As we have seen, the usual forms of poor relief were unable to meet the extraordinary demands of a plague outbreak. Individuals relied on assistance from their neighbors and friends, but plague pushed even these bonds to the breaking point, forcing them to seek additional support from the courts. For some households, these interventions allowed for the return to life before an outbreak; for some, they facilitated an entirely new way of life; and for others, these interventions allowed them simply to survive. The Lancashire Plague Petitions encourage us to re-evaluate the historical processes involved in fostering resilience as well as the aims and outcomes of resilience itself.

Author Biography

Rachel Anderson (née Clamp) received her BA in History from Jesus College, Cambridge, in 2017 and her MA in History from Durham University in 2018. She is now a PhD candidate at Durham University, where her research focuses on the impact of plague in early modern England and Scotland.

I would like to thank Andrew Grey at Palace Green Library, Durham, for kindly giving up his time to share his paleographical expertise with me. I would also like to thank John Rogan and all the staff at Lancashire Archives for being so welcoming and accommodating. Lastly, I would like to thank my anonymous peer reviewer for their helpful comments which have greatly improved the overall quality of this article.