Good Councell against the plague: Shewing sundry present preseruatiues for the same, by wholsome fumes, drinks, vomits, and other inward receits: as also, the perfect cure (by implaysture) of any that are therewith infected. Now necessary to be obserued of euery housholder, to auoyde the infection, lately begun in some places of this cittie

In Short

This work is a survival guide for the household, written by an anonymous physician during a 1592 outbreak in London. It functions as a compendium of medicinal wisdom, offering instructions for sanitation, dietary regimens, and complex poultices designed to combat the pestilence. While the medical science belongs to a pre-germ era of humors and miasmas, the book remains a striking cultural artifact, capturing the urgent, communal anxiety of a city under siege by disease and the sincere human impulse to provide order in the face of chaos.

The Story

The narrative begins with an urgent preface, acknowledging the terror of the plague as it begins to creep into the populous quarters of the city. The physician, choosing anonymity to avoid the taint of vanity, presents his work as a gift to his countrymen, driven by the singular goal of preserving health and expelling sickness from the land. The text immediately establishes a baseline for survival, emphasizing that the first line of defense is not a cure, but the maintenance of a clean, orderly environment.

The arc of the book moves systematically from the prevention of environmental contagion to the fortification of the individual body. It begins with the external: the cleaning of streets and kennels to remove stagnant water and the strict exclusion of stray animals, particularly dogs, which are viewed as vectors of infection. From there, the focus shifts to the air within the home. The author advocates for the ritualized airing of rooms with charcoal fires and aromatic substances—frankincense, juniper, and rosemary—to dispel the foul odors that he believes carry the pestilence.

As the text progresses, it moves inward, addressing the internal state of the reader. Through a series of recipes and regimens, it details how to fortify the body against the plague’s onset. The diet prescribed is specific and methodical, involving the consumption of sorrel, walnuts, and cinnamon-dusted bread. The book then broadens its scope to address the treatment of those already infected. It offers a pharmacological catalog of drinks, vomits, and purges, all intended to induce sweating and cleanse the body of its morbid humors.

Finally, the book turns to the management of visible symptoms—the dreaded swellings and carbuncles. It provides detailed instructions for poultices made from lily roots, swine grease, onions, and garlic, designed to ripen and break these sores, followed by soothing salves to aid healing. The arc concludes with a firm directive on quarantine: the infected must be separated from the healthy for a full month to ensure the safety of the household. It ends with the quiet, pious hope that these efforts, if followed with diligence and prayer, will suffice to turn back the tide of death and restore the city to health.

How It Unfolds

The foundation of defense The work opens with the fundamental premise that cleanliness and strict household management are the primary barriers against infection. It mandates the removal of all standing water and the removal of stray dogs, which are deemed dangerous carriers of the miasma.

Purifying the atmosphere Once the surroundings are secured, the author moves to the air itself, prescribing the use of charcoal fires combined with specific botanical herbs to fumigate living spaces. Every room must be treated weekly, and the reader is encouraged to carry scented cloths to protect themselves when navigating public spaces.

Internal fortification The focus shifts to the body, where the author provides a variety of recipes intended to bolster health through diet. The reader is encouraged to eat specific mixtures of herbs, salt, and bread, or to chew on roots like Angelica to act as a shield against the disease.

Treatment of the afflicted When prevention fails, the narrative turns toward active intervention, detailing the use of specialized drinks, vomits, and purges to force the sickness out of the system. The physician emphasizes the importance of inducing sweat, often through the consumption of herbal-infused ales while resting in bed.

Healing the external wounds The final stage of the process involves the management of sores, with recipes for poultices that draw out infection and soften the skin. The book concludes with a final note on the necessity of isolation for the sick, ensuring the protection of the remaining household.

The People

The central figure is the "Learned Phisition," a shadow presence who avoids personal fame in favor of public service. He is the voice of authority, defined by a deep sense of civic duty and a belief that human intervention can mitigate divine calamity. He acts as a guardian, aiming to empower the common householder with the knowledge to safeguard their family.

The "Housholder" is the primary audience, a figure tasked with the heavy responsibility of maintaining the physical and moral purity of their residence. They are expected to be vigilant, industrious, and willing to enforce strict boundaries against the outside world.

The "Patient" is the final, tragic figure of the work. They are the recipient of the physician’s care, often weak and bedridden, undergoing the painful process of purging and poulticing. They stand at the threshold between recovery and death, their survival dependent on the householder’s strict adherence to the physician’s complex, often exhausting, instructions. Each of these figures is brought together by a shared, desperate hope to navigate the plague without succumbing to the panic or the illness itself.

In Its Own Voice

The following instructions demonstrate the physician's belief in the power of aromatic defense:

Ayer your seuerall roomes with Charcole fiers, made in stone pans or Chafingdishes, and not in Chimneys: set your pans in the middle of the roomes: ayer euery roome once a weeke (at the least) and put into your fyre a little quantitie of Francomsence, Iuniper, dryed Rosemary, or of Bay-leaues.

The author provides a specific, albeit unusual, remedy for those who suspect they have been infected:

Take an Egge, make a hole in the top of it, take out the white & the yolke, and fill the shell only with Saffron, rost the shell and Saffron together, in embers of Charcoales, vntill the shell waxe yellowe: then beat shell and all together in a Morter, with halfe a spoonefull of Mustard-seede: nowe so soone as any suspicion is had of infection, dissolue the weight of a french Crowne, in ten spoonfuls of posset-ale, drink it luke warme, & sweat vpon it in your naked bed.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book explores the human struggle to impose order upon a chaotic and invisible threat. It is an argument for the efficacy of human agency during a time when the plague was often viewed as an inexplicable and unstoppable force. The work grapples with the anxiety of the domestic space, questioning how a household can maintain its boundaries when the very air and the animals in the street are perceived as hostile. It touches on the deep-seated belief that health is a fragile state requiring constant, ritualized maintenance, and that the duty of the individual is to act as a protector of the collective, using the tools of the natural world to hold death at bay.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of medicine or the everyday reality of the Renaissance will find this a compelling, if occasionally unsettling, read. The experience of reading it feels like stepping directly into a household in 1592; the urgency of the prose, with its focus on "wholsome fumes" and "inward receits," brings the period's genuine terror and earnest attempts at scientific reasoning to life. It is not an easy read—the original orthography and the stark, detached descriptions of medical procedures demand patience. One must be prepared for a worldview that relies on humoral theory, where the line between a "wholsome" diet and a medical treatment is thin.

However, the book stays with you because of its profound humanity. It captures a moment when the world felt fragile and the best response was, quite literally, to clean, to pray, and to care for the sick within one’s own walls. For those who can look past the outdated medical assumptions, there is a strangely moving quality in the physician's refusal to name himself, preferring that his advice serve the greater good. It is a testament to the fact that, regardless of the era, the instinct to protect one's home and kin remains the same.