Uncle Kit did not come last Night; I did not much expect he woulde; nor Mr. Skinner. Insteade, we had Dr. Paget, and one or two others, who talked dolefully alle the Evening of Signs of the Times, till they gave me the Horrors. One had seen a Ghost, or at least, seen a Crowd looking at a Ghost, or for a Ghost, in Bishopgate Churchyard, that comes out and points hither and thither at future Graves. Another had seene an Apparition, or Meteor, somewhat of human or angelic Shape in the Air. Father laught at the first, but did not so discredit in toto the other; observing that Theodore Beza believed at one Time in astrologick Signs; and thought that the Appearance of the notable Star in Cassiopeiea betokened the universal End. And as for Angels, he sayd they were, questionless, ministering Spiritts, not onlie sent forth to minister unto the Heirs of Salvation, but sometimes Instruments of God's Wrath, to execute Judgments upon ungodly Men, and convince them of the ill Deeds which they have ungodly committed; as during the Pestilence in David's Time, when the King saw the Destroying Angel standing between Heaven and Earth, having a drawn Sword in his Hand, stretched over Jerusalem. Such Delegates we might, without Fanaticism, suppose to be the generall, though unseen. Instruments of public Chastisements; and, for our particular Comfort, we had equall Reason to repose on the Assurance, that even amid the Pestilence that walked in Darkness, and the Destruction that wasted by Noon-day, the Angels had charge over each particular Believer, to keep them in all their Ways. Adding, that, though he forbore, with Calvin, to pronounce that each Man had his own Guardian Spiritt,—a Subject whereon Scripture was silent,—we had the Lord's own Word for it, that little Children were the particular Care of holy Angels.
And this, and othermuch to same Purport, had soe soothing and sedative an Effect, that we might have gone to Bed in peacefull Trust, onlie that Dr. Paget must needs bring up, after Supper, the correlative Theme of the great Florentine Plague, and the poisoned Wells, which sett Father off upon the Acts of Mercy of Cardinal _Borromeo,—_not him called St. Charlest but the Cardinal-Archbishop,—and soe, to the Pestilence at Geneva, when even the Bars and Locks of Doors were poisoned by a Gang of Wretches, who thought to pillage the Dwellings of the Dead; till we all went to Bed, moped to Death.
Howbeit, I had been warmly asleep some Hours, (more by Token I had read the ninety-first Psalm before getting into Bed), when Anne, clinging to me, woke me up with a shrill Cry. I whispered fearfullie, "What is't?—a Thief under the Bed?"
"No, no," she replies. "Listen!"
Soe I did for a While; and was just going to say, "You were dreaming," when a hollow Voice in the Street, beneath our Window, distinctlie proclaimed,
"Yet forty Days, and London shall be destroyed! I will overturn, overturn, overturn it! Oh! Woe, Woe, Woe!"
I sprang out of Bed, fell over my Shoes, got up again, and ran to the Window. There was Nothing to be seen but long, black Shadows in the Streets. The Moon was behind the House. After looking forthe awhile, with Teeth chattering, I was about to drop the Curtain, when, afar off, whether in or over some distant Quarter of the Town, I heard the same Voice, clearlie enow to recognise the Rhythm, though not the Words. I crept to Bed, chilled and awe-stricken; yet, after cowering awhile, and saying our Prayers, we both fell asleep.
The first Sounde this Morning was of Weeping and Wayling. Mother had beene scared by the Night-warning, and wearied Father to have us alle into the Countrie. He thought the Danger not yet imminent, the Expense considerable, and the Outcry that of some crazy Fanatick; ne'erthelesse, consented to employ Ellwood to look us out some country Lodgings; having noe Mind to live upon my Uncle at Ipswich.
Mary, strange to say, had heard noe Noise; nor had the Maids; but Servants always sleep heavily.
Some of the Pig having beene sett aside for my Uncle, and Mother fancying it for her Breakfast, was much putt out, on going into the Larder, to find it gone. Betty, of course, sayd it was the Cat. Mother made Answer, she never knew a Cat partiall to cold Pig; and the Door having been latched, was suspicious of a Puss in Boots.