When choosing days out, sometimes the destinations can sound fairly morbid. However, August was the month when I decided to tick another item off my list of 40 things I would like to achieve before I'm 40. I've always been interested in the village of Eyam in Derbyshire, sometimes known as The Plague Village. Now, trying to explain to people that you've had a longstanding goal to visit a village famous for a good chunk of the population being wiped out by plague can be something of a tricky sell. Nevertheless, their story is a fascinating one. In 1665, the local tailor ordered some cloth from London, inadvertently bringing the plague into the village. Once it started to spread, and it became clear that it would keep spreading, the village decided to put themselves into a self-imposed quarantine. In doing so, they condemned themselves to suffer through a large portion of their population dying and becoming ill. However, in doing this, they also stopped the spread of the disease to neighbouring towns and villages, and have been credited with preventing the plague from spreading further north (even though there were some localised outbreaks). Maybe not a cheery place to visit, but certainly one with a history that's worth exploring.
I started the day in the local museum, which is always a good place to start when exploring somewhere new. There's a pay and display carpark just opposite, with a free car park just behind that. Naturally, being a tight Yorkshire woman, I arrived early in the day to cadge myself a spot that I didn't pay for. The museum was small but really informative, all about what the plague was, how it was transmitted, and how it impacted the villagers who lived there when it arrived. There was also the most terrifying museum dummy of all time that was dressed as a plague doctor. I have an absolute terror of mannequins and waxworks, so this was not a highlight for me. There were also sections on Eyam in general, with a history of their mining heritage, and how the museum had come to be formed. Definitely worth an hour of your time. It was also here that I decided it might be prudent to buy a map, as I knew that a lot of the places of interest were just outside of the village proper, and I didn't particularly think it was wise to go ambling through the Peak District without some sort of notion as to where I was headed.
In the main village, you walk past the houses where the unfortunate tailor and his neighbours lived in order to get to the church and out into the fields. The houses all have plaques outside stating who lived there and, more pertinently, who died there. When you see the list of names, it really makes you understand how entire families came to be wiped out, really landing the scale of what was going on in Eyam. On to the church, and it's a beauty. I always say that, for someone who doesn't believe in organised religion, I do like a good church and churchyard. Eyam is a lovely church, with a stained glass window commemorating the events of the plague. Incidentally, it was in the churchyard here that I sat and ate my packed lunch in a peaceful corner. If you were thinking that I was looking for plague graves here, you would be wrong. Those that died in this time were not buried here, but were placed in fields outside of the village to try and keep them separate from the main village wherever possible. My next port of call was to find some of those that are marked. Most are not marked at all, but there are a couple that have been preserved where one survivor has had to bury their entire family, and their isolation is really thought provoking.
Whilst I was heading out and about from the main village, I went to the Cucklet Church. This is where the church services were held out in the open, with the vicar stood on top of the rocks, and the congregation dotted around the field below in their family groups. Next up was the boundary stone in the middle of the field that separates Eyam from the next village over. Stoney Middleton lies about a mile away as the crow flies over the fields, so they were very much in the danger zone if the quarantine hadn't happened. As it was, they left supplies at the boundary stone, and the residents of Eyam left their payment in holes drilled into the top of it. Interestingly, they would fill the holes with vinegar or water to act as a way to kill the germs that they were very conscious not to spread. So much of what I was seeing and reading about put me in mind of how life was during Covid times, and it really does make you realise how the medical and scientific knowledge changes, but to the average person on the street, their experience of this lockdown wasn't wildly dissimilar to ours in 2020. One of the reasons that I have always loved learning about our history, is that I firmly believe that people are much the same throughout time. Walking through Eyam and learning about their lockdown, and how they coped with their quarantine, I really did get to pondering how there isn't anything new under the sun. Only, if you do go out and about and do the full village walk, remember your sun cream. I did not, and peering into holes in rocks in the blazing sun without that protection is decidedly unwise!
How long was I there?
I arrived at the museum at about10am, which was the opening time, and the best time to arrive to get free parking. After doing a full lap of the museum, the village, and heading over to the neighbouring village, I left at about 3pm. I would describe it as a full day job really.
How much did I spend?
Entry to the museum was £6. I also bought a map for £1 that had a guide to places of interest, as well as directions to them. This proved to be very useful.
Would I go back?
Maybe. It was a really interesting place, and absolutely lovely surrounding countryside. However, it would be fair to say that if a place hasn't really changed since 1666, it would be folly to revisit in a year or so's time and expect there to be new things to see and experience. I think this one comes under the banner of being somewhere fascinating, that I'm glad I went to, but there's no real necessity to come back soon. If someone I knew wanted to go there, I would definitely accompany them, but I would probably choose somewhere new and different if I was under my own steam.
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