Andrew Golding: A Tale of the Great Plague

In Short

This historical narrative traces the lives of two sisters, Lucy and Althea, as they navigate the personal and political upheavals of 17th-century England. Following the death of their father and the social instability of the era, the sisters find themselves drawn into the epicenter of the Great Plague. As they search for a kinsman named Andrew, they must reconcile their internal faith and private grief with the encroaching chaos of a dying city. It remains a poignant, grounded study of resilience, domestic duty, and the search for sanctuary during times of widespread catastrophe.

The Story

The narrative begins with Lucy and Althea taking refuge in a house in London, hiding from the world as the Plague rages outside their windows. Lucy, seeking to stave off despair, begins to write a history of their plight, documenting the daily, ominous sight of death carts passing through the grass-grown streets. The sisters are orphans, having recently lost their father, and are navigating a world where their social position is precarious. They are supported by their aunt, Mrs. Golding, who maintains a calm, protective presence while the sisters grapple with the loss of their former status and the uncertainty of their future.

Their primary objective is to locate Andrew, a young man who has been drawn into the radical religious fervor of the era. Andrew, filled with a sense of divine mission, has insisted on traveling to London to warn the citizens of impending judgment. His absence and subsequent imprisonment—orchestrated by a vindictive man named Ralph Lacy—drive much of the narrative’s tension. Althea, characterized by a proud and sometimes defiant spirit, leads the effort to find him, though her journey is marked by the painful realization that her own self-will has contributed to their perilous situation.

As the sisters navigate the city, they encounter a society collapsing under the weight of fear. They witness the public displays of religious zealots, the cruelty of those who have turned against their neighbors, and the pervasive suspicion that makes escape nearly impossible. Their path eventually crosses with Harry, the son of a beleaguered pastor, who becomes a vital ally. Through Harry’s intervention and the help of a grateful sailor, they eventually locate Andrew in a wretched prison cell. The rescue is a narrow, dangerous affair, complicated by Ralph Lacy’s malicious interference.

The sisters’ escape from London is a desperate flight by water, as the land routes are blocked by fearful villagers who drive away any travelers from the city. The group eventually reaches the safety of the coast, where they find a ship to carry them to France. Once in safety, the narrative explores the aftermath of their trauma. Andrew, broken in spirit and health, eventually finds shelter among the Quakers in Amsterdam. Althea, deeply changed by her experiences and her connection to Andrew, chooses to remain in exile to support him, while Lucy marries Harry and moves toward a new life. The book concludes with a reflective dialogue between Lucy and the elder Mr. Truelocke, who muses on the hope for a future where people of different faiths might reconcile their differences, emphasizing the importance of finding peace after the "strife of tongues."

How It Unfolds

The hidden vigil The sisters remain confined in a lonely London house, watching the macabre progress of the death carts from their window. Lucy begins her manuscript to maintain her sanity, while Althea maintains a determined, if anxious, search for their missing kinsman.

The shadow of malice The sisters’ efforts to find Andrew are systematically blocked by the vengeful Ralph Lacy, who uses his influence to have Andrew imprisoned. Lacy’s cruelty highlights the breakdown of social order, as he actively works to ensure the sisters remain isolated and vulnerable.

The journey to the cell With the assistance of Harry, the son of a persecuted pastor, the sisters finally gain access to the prison where Andrew is held. They find him in a dire state, nearly destroyed by neglect and the harsh conditions of his confinement.

The waterborne escape Recognizing that the city has become a trap, the group secures a boat to navigate the river under the cover of night. They evade the hostility of the surrounding countryside, which has turned lethal in its desperate attempt to quarantine the plague.

The resolution of lives The group reaches the coast, where they find passage out of the country, leading to a permanent parting of the sisters. While Lucy settles into a new marriage, the narrative lingers on the lingering questions of faith and the enduring scars of their shared ordeal.

The People

Lucy serves as the observant, introspective narrator. She is defined by her devotion to her sister and her desire to find stability, yet she possesses a quiet inner strength that allows her to endure the loss of her home and the subsequent flight from the city.

Althea, by contrast, is more volatile and prideful. She is driven by a fierce sense of duty and a complex, often stifled affection for Andrew. Her journey is one of humbling; she begins as a woman accustomed to the protections of her former life and ends as a person who accepts the necessity of sacrifice and exile.

Andrew is the catalyst for the sisters' suffering and their salvation. His radical religious convictions and his sense of mission lead him to the brink of death, yet he is clearly loved by those who know his true, generous nature.

Harry is the steadfast, pragmatic partner to Lucy. His role is to provide the muscle and the organization that the sisters lack. He represents the voice of moderate, grounded faith, and his love for Lucy offers a necessary contrast to the darker, more fanatical elements of the period.

In Its Own Voice

Describing the grim, daily reality of the Plague in London, Lucy reflects on the hopelessness of their situation:

"In the middle of the street, which is quite grown with grass, a horse and cart standing, no driver in sight near it, and the cart as we too well knew being that which goes round daily to take away such as die of the Plague."

Later, reflecting on the difficulty of reconciling her own grief with the need to move forward, she quotes Harry:

"If in the middle of a winter voyage, when the stormy winds do blow, we mariners should have one fair sunshine day, we don't spend it in bemoaning the black days that went before and the black days that will come after."

What It's Really About

At its core, the book examines the tension between individual conscience and the crushing pressures of a society in crisis. It asks how one maintains personal integrity when the institutions of church and state are either failing or actively hostile. The Plague acts as a crucible, stripping away the social standing and luxuries of the characters to reveal the strength—or fragility—of their convictions. It is an argument for the primacy of human compassion over rigid doctrinal adherence. Throughout the story, the characters grapple with the question of whether it is better to suffer for one's truth or to prioritize the survival of those one loves. Ultimately, the book suggests that while systems of power may divide people, the bonds of human care and the hope for spiritual peace are what remain when the chaos finally recedes.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate quiet, character-driven historical fiction will find this a rewarding, if somber, experience. The prose is elegant and slow-paced, reflecting the rhythms of 17th-century speech without becoming impenetrable. It is not an action-heavy thriller; rather, it is a detailed, observational account of how a family is tested by historical forces beyond their control.

The book is particularly resonant for those interested in the social history of the 1660s, as it captures the prevailing anxieties regarding religious nonconformity, the fear of contagion, and the rigid class structures of the era. Modern readers should be prepared for the characters' period-specific language and their deep-seated religious sensibilities, which serve as the primary motivation for most of their actions. While the narrative deals with heavy themes—grief, imprisonment, and the threat of death—there is a genuine warmth in the domestic scenes, particularly in the growing bond between Lucy and Harry. It is a story that stays with you, not for its grand spectacles, but for its honest portrayal of how people attempt to remain human when their world is falling apart. It is a testament to the idea that even in the bleakest times, the preservation of one’s humanity and the cultivation of kindness are the most meaningful acts one can perform.