Its aisles, once trodden by grave and reverend ecclesiastics, and subsequently haunted by rufflers, bullies, and other worthless characters, were now filled with miserable wretches, stricken with a loathsome and fatal distemper.

Its chapels and shrines formerly adorned with rich sculptures and costly ornaments, but stripped of them at times when they were looked upon as idolatrous and profane, were now occupied by nurses, chirurgeons, and their attendants; while every niche and corner was filled with surgical implements, phials, drugs, poultices, foul rags, and linen.
In less than a week after it had been converted into a pest-house, the cathedral was crowded to overflowing.

Upwards of three hundred pallets were set up in the nave, in the aisles, in the transepts, and in the choir, and even in the chapels.

But these proving insufficient, many poor wretches who were brought thither were placed on the cold flags, and protected only by a single blanket.

At night the scene was really terrific.