Day 174 to 180 - and why not (Well obvious reasons really)

Day 174. There is something nagging in the back of my head about Soho in 1854 but I cannot bring it forward. For the last couple of days Charlie and I have watched in wonder as Victorian life unfolded itself in front of us. Today we walked through some of the streets many of whose names I think still exist. Along Brewer Street, down Little Windmill Street and then as we were approaching Broad Street a cry went up, “The Kings is back!” Charlie and I rushed forward to see which pretender could be challenging for Victoria’s throne as other ran away.

Day 175. Aaaaagh

Day 176. The King is Cholera and over 120 people have died in the first three days. Those that can have escaped but the authorities now force people to stay to contain the outbreak. People walk in fear, their faces covered with rags or kerchiefs to avoid breathing the rancid air. All but one man. He is clearly a nutter.

Day 177. The man who stands alone in the face of this disease is a Doctor. He is desperately trying to convince the powers that be that Cholera is spread through dirty water and not the air. I feel his frustration. I know this to be true but how can you explain something to frightened people merely by the application of a logic and not by a proven fact. His frustration with the so called experts in authority is so painful to see. I must try to help

Day 178. I have managed to speak with Dr Snow. He is convinced that the cholera is spreading from a contaminated water pump but how can he prove it. I have some ideas based on vague memories so I have suggested he draws a map of the area and marks the house where deaths have occurred showing their proximity to the aforementioned well. I said, “like a Ghost Map,” but he hated the name. He’s rather straight laced but his heart seems in the right place.

Day 179. There have now been over 400 deaths and Dr Snow knows that it is coming from the water in the Broad Street pump yet he cannot convince people. Knowledge without belief is a terrible thing. A local curate who started by denouncing Snow’s belief has not turned full circle and is impressing upon people not to drink the water. It is amazing how the fact that it is a Reverend saying it carries more weight. I am useless in this exchange and Charlie just keeps barking. I have painted a white line around the pump as a warning and it is having some affect.

Day 180. The handle has been taken off the Pump and there is hope. Dr. Snow keeps going on about needing “better proof for the fools” and talks or his admiration for a James Simpson and his work at Seething Wells. God know what he is going on about because this a man possessed. I still find it odd that I should have turned up at this point in history. I look at Charlie in a questioning way as he sniffs the white line. I must remain stoic which I realize is an anagram of coits but with a c instead of a q. I shall teach the Doctor to play to take his mind off the deaths, the rejection of his ideas by authority and his obsession with this Simpson chap