"Yesterday afternoon, between two and three o'clock, the neighbourhood of Barratt's Court, Edward Street, Portman Square, was thrown into a state of violent uproar and confusion, in consequence of the messengers of the Marylebone Board of Health attempting to move to the cholera hospital in Nutford Place, Edgware Road, an Irishman, named John Heron, who was suddenly taken ill on Thursday (March 29th), and who was alleged to have been attacked with cholera. The messengers brought with them the usual sedan chair to carry away the patient, and were attended by five of the police force of the D division, to prevent any interruption being offered them in taking the man away. They had no sooner arrived opposite the house, than they were assailed with groans, hisses, and yells of a most discordant character, from a number of Heron's countrymen, who expressed their determination not to allow him to be removed out of his own apartment.
"The messengers, however, succeeded, after much difficulty, and with the assistance of the police, who were compelled to use their staves, in placing the man in the chair, and had proceeded with him but a few yards, when a simultaneous rush of the Irish, who had by this time assembled in the court to the number of between five and six hundred, was made, and in an instant the policemen were hemmed in by the crowd, and had their staves wrested from them. A scene of the utmost confusion and disorder then ensued; the sick man was dragged out of the chair, and pulled about in a most violent and shameful manner; the chair was broken to pieces, and, after much contention and disturbance, the man was carried back to his lodging, amidst the shouts of the victorious party, who declared they would resist any attempt that might be made to remove him. The disturbance assumed such a serious appearance at one time, that most of the neighbours closed their shops for the remainder of the afternoon. The whole of the neighbourhood remained in a state of excessive tumult during the rest of the evening. The necessary measures were afterwards taken by the police to preserve tranquillity."
At the beginning of April, the cholera in London began to subside, and, owing to the diminished number of cases, the Treasury, on April 6th, issued an order, reducing the number of the Medical Board. Raikes, in his journal, says: "April 7.—From the daily reports, cholera seems greatly subsiding; up to last night the grand total of cases, since the commencement, are 7435, and deaths 2489." But it continued the whole year, and the death returns for the whole kingdom, from this cause, on December 3rd, were 95. The total deaths from cholera in 1831-32, are put down as 59,547.
Ireland did not escape the visitation. On the contrary, the disease there was very severe, and the Times of June 16th records the following curious charm against it:—
"Dublin, June 5th.—These three days past the country has been in an extraordinary state of excitement. Messengers are running and riding through the counties Carlow, Kilkenny, Wicklow, West Meath, Dublin, King and Queen's County, Meath, Wexford, and Longford, leaving a small piece of turf (peat fuel), at every cabin, with the following exhortation: 'The plague has broken out, take this, and while it burns, offer up seven paters, three aves, and a credo, in the name of God and the holy St. John, that the plague may be stopped!' The messenger lays each householder under an 'obligation,' as it is called, to kindle his piece of turf, set fire to seven other pieces, quench them, and run through the country to seven other houses, wherein no turf has yet been left, and to repeat the same exhortation, under a penalty of falling a victim to the cholera himself! Men, women, and children are seen scouring the country in every direction, with this charmed turf, each endeavouring to be foremost in finding unserved houses. One man, yesterday, in the Bog of Allen, had to run thirty miles ere he could fulfil his task.
"The stories of its origin are various, but all agree that one piece of turf was blessed by a priest, and thus sent through the peasantry, where it multiplied itself and its powers of agitation sevenfold in every new hand. Nothing like it has been heard of since the time of the clan-gatherings. The police are on the alert, and messengers have been arrested from Kilkenny, where the blessed turf arrived at noon on Monday, to this city, where it came pouring in last night. The authorities are suspicious of Whitefeet conspiracy and secret intelligence, but nothing yet has transpired to warrant this view of the affair. The higher classes receive the blessed turf, and laugh at the thing as a hoax on the peasantry, without troubling themselves in transmitting it further; but the poorer householders are one and all in motion to avert the cholera and the curse of disobedience attaching to neglect.
"No one knows where the holy fire was first kindled. There are various accounts. It is said that it was first sent from Kilmayne, from Blessington, from New Ross and from Roscrea; that lightning consumed houses in New Ross, and that the holy turf was first kindled at its fire, etc.; but it is certain that the whole of the central counties of Ireland are thrown into a singular state of agitation. Yesterday, along the whole line of the grand canal from Dublin to Shannon harbour, people might be seen running. The captain of one of the packet boats that arrived in the city last night saw a turf-cutter running along the bank in the Bog of Allen to whom he owed some money for fuel. He called to him, 'Paddy, get in, and I'll pay you now.'—'I can't,' replied Paddy, still running, 'I've to serve seven houses yet with the holy turf, and I'd rather lose the money than earn the cholera.' The priests, in whose parishes this wildfire has spread, confess themselves as ignorant of its origin as the peasantry are."
If we are to credit the Dublin Morning Register, the cholera had a peculiar effect upon rooks—
"In the demesne of the Marquis of Sligo, near Westport House, there is one of the largest rookeries in the west of Ireland. On the first, or second day of the appearance of cholera in this place, I was astonished to observe that all the rooks had disappeared; and, for three weeks, during which the disease raged violently, these noisy tenants of the trees completely deserted their lofty habitations. In the meantime, the Revenue police found immense numbers of them lying dead upon the shore near Erris, about ten miles distant. Upon the decline of the malady, within the last few days, several of the old birds have again appeared in the neighbourhood of the rookery, but some of them seemed unable, through exhaustion, to reach their nests. The number of birds now in the rookery is not a sixth of what it had been three months ago."
The "New Police" worked so well, that the City, who have always had the right of keeping their own watch and ward, followed their example. We read in the Times of March 22nd—