When “Ring of Roses” Was No Child’s Game – The Black Plague in Halifax
550 Lost
By Harry Facks
Back in 1631, Halifax faced a terror that no rhyme could soften. “Ring a Ring o’ Roses” wasn’t just a song—it was the sound of a town fighting to survive the Black Plague. Join Harry Facks as we step into the shadowy streets of old Halifax, where fear was real, families vanished, and the spirit of a town was put to the test.
A Town Cut Off
The authorities closed the main roads, barring any way in or out. Escape was impossible. Terrified townsfolk huddled indoors, hoping the sickness would pass them by. Only the grave-diggers kept busy. The streets, once bustling, were eerily silent—except for the occasional dog roaming the narrow lanes.
How It Began
The plague arrived in early August, right after 4,000 Civil War soldiers marched through Halifax on their way to Lancashire. By September, the sickness was raging. October was the deadliest month, with the death toll reaching its peak. By the time the plague faded away in late January, around 550 people had perished.
A Town on Edge
It began quietly. A cough here, a fever there—nothing to worry about, folks thought. But soon, the signs became impossible to ignore. People spoke in hushed tones of black spots appearing on the chest, of neighbours taken ill and not seen again. Word spread quickly: the plague was in Halifax.
Daily Life Turned Upside Down
Shutters slammed shut. Doors were marked with a rough painted cross, warning others to stay away. Those who could, locked themselves inside, hoping the sickness would pass them by. The streets, once filled with the clatter of carts and children’s laughter, fell eerily silent. Only the distant toll of the church bell marked the passing of another soul.
Desperate Measures
If plague struck your home, there was little mercy. Beds and bedding were dragged out into the street and burned—anything to stop the spread. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air. Families who once welcomed neighbours for a chat now avoided each other, crossing to the other side of the street or calling greetings from behind closed windows.
Heartbreak and Loss
The unlucky ones didn’t just lose a loved one—they lost entire families. In September, the worst month of all, the death toll soared. “Black September,” they called it, and no one who lived through it ever forgot. Graveyards filled, and the town’s records grew thick with names of those lost to the plague. 100 died in Heptonstall alone.
A Royal Reminder
Even the grandest houses weren’t spared. Somerset House, home of the Royds family, once hosted King Christian VII of Denmark in a blaze of royal glory. But during the plague, even these fine halls were not immune to sorrow and loss.
Life Turned Upside Down
No children were christened. No couples wed. The Parish Church bell rang only to mark another passing. The new vicar, who had only just arrived, was suddenly tasked with burying a population he barely knew. Tradition even says that every person living in the Mulcture Hall died.
A Lesson Remembered
Today, we might see “Ring a Ring o’ Roses” as a simple song, but in old Halifax, it was a story of survival, loss, and the strength of a community that refused to be broken. Next time you hear those words, spare a thought for the 550 who didn’t make it—and for the town that carried on, determined as ever.
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