Recently, we did a writing piece where we wrote a letter from someone in the plague years to another person. In mine, I wrote from the perspective of a Queen, writing to her lady sister. I tried to make the letter as realistic as possible. She doesn’t have the plague, but her husband, Sir Charles died of it. Here is my letter:

December 8th, 1348

Dear Sister,

Oh sister, how I miss your sweet smile. Has the Black Death come to you? I hope not and I wish you well, since it has darkened my step. How is Lord Henry, your husband treating you? I have not seen you since the funeral. Let me confide in you, and please do not tell anyone. Now, I must not lie, I was happy my husband, King Charles of France, died because he was a Sinner! How else would he have gotten that sick? And plus, it means that now, I am the Ruler of France, and I have say over everything! I even had a new window built in the solar that I used to share with the King.

Oh sister, what you have missed! Let me tell you. Once Charles died, and I was crowned Queen and the rightful ruler of France, I got the blessing of the Pope coming to congratulate me on being Queen! Oh, how I love calling myself that. The day he came, I was dressed in a lovely dress my maid sewed for me. It had silks from China, and only the finest material. When “His Holiness” arrived, my servants greeted him at the door and I let out a small cough. Before I tell you the rest, I must describe Pope Clement for you. I know everyone says he is the only person that can save us from this horrible sickness, but I think that that is just a lie to cover up how incapable he is in this time of Satan! I think he is the reason so many people are dying. Sinners are dying of course, but I know good people that are sick; why should the good suffer? If only women could be Pope, I believe I would make the best one, but we know, sister, this shall never happen. Let me tell you what he did. The Pope looked at me and declared “SINNER!” My reputation has been infected. I coughed, and only coughed once; I truly am not sick. There is talk of me being ex-communicated! Me! How horribly rude! Imagine me, a peasant? Why, that just sounds impossible. I still have command over all my townspeople, except for these horrible men that whip themselves and each other and make everyone stand and watch! Why, they must stop, for they are scaring people away! They say they’re doing it for God, but I do not believe it. They call themselves the Flagellants. If they were really for God, they would just stay inside or farm the lands! And their wives, rubbing their blood all over them, why they are the real Sinners! I should have them executed. They run in our churches, disrupting prayers. Disrupting Prayers! Tis as if Satan has taken a human form.

Our town is being polluted. Every time I look out that new stained glass window with dyes from India of course, I can almost make out underneath the shining blue glass piles of revolting dead bodies. Beautifully blue tinted, but revolting none the less. These people have bumps, lumps and scars covering their entire bodies. I can smell their vomit from my window. I can hear the kids screaming when they pass them. The glass is so clear tis almost like I can their boils from my window. Some have blood pouring down their stomach. Why, and their families left these bodies and never buried them! I would never think of doing things in this manner. I guess it just must be my royal blood.

I can not talk about this any longer. Maybe I should tell you about my new silver dining table, or even the gold plates I have acquired from the King of England. Maybe you’d like to hear about the new silk gowns I have gotten! Or at least, the new Cockatrice I taste every night. Or my lavish 22nd birthday that all the Queens and Kings of neighboring lands came to. But, I know it will make you sad, since you are only a Lady, you cannot acquire much of the finery I have. I guess your Bronze table will do. Let me tell you something, but do not repeat it to anyone, not even Lord Henry. The new window I had built in the solar? Well, the man who designed the stained glass window was Jewish. Jewish! No one told me, but once I found out, I had him executed. I smashed the window he built and had it rebuilt by all Christian masons. I was worried God wouldn’t forgive me for letting him design it, but he did. Well, after I also had the people who brought the Jewish Man in hanged. But, I fear he has cast a spell over my land. Please do not repeat any of this letter to anyone, because I fear it could be the end of me.

Oh my dearest sister, these are very black times indeed and would be so much more tolerable if I had your loving presence to guide me through these dark days.

Your Rich and Loving Sister,

Queen Anna