CHAPTER XV

_MALADIES PRODUCED BY FEAR_

I

Unhappy invalids who must seek shelter in the hospital, and drag

themselves feebly through those long wards where quiet has reigned for

centuries, only broken by the sobs and cries of those poor wretches

who come to lie down within these walls, as in the common tomb of the

homeless!

How depressed they are when they leave their family and note the

sadness of the place, advance sighing towards an unfamiliar bed, while

around them they see all the ills which misery begets, and breathe the

oppressive air of that pity which has gathered them together!

The new-comers at once recognise those more dangerously ill, even

though they are at some distance, because the physicians stay longer

beside them, watching them, the assistants and nurses are occupied with

them. Then the bell for the viaticum rings; all who are able rise to

their feet; then the extreme unction--then the rattling in the throat

in the death-agony. And when at last they see the curtains drawn

around the bed, a low, trembling whisper passes the sad news from mouth

to mouth, to the most remote corners of the ward, beyond the dim rays

of the funeral torch shining in the night like the last flicker of life

in a body waxing cold for ever.

In their morning round the physicians find that the serious cases have

grown worse, while those who are better beg to be dismissed. But it

is in the women’s ward that similar sad circumstances cause the most

alarming effects. The physician who has the night-watch must walk up

and down the whole night, prescribing soothing draughts and cordials,

without his presence or his words of comfort preventing convulsive

attacks or fainting fits.

Many patients die in the hospitals from fear and depression who would

probably have recovered had they been tended in their own homes.

We must hope that thrift may so increase that the poorest working-man

may have a cleanly house in which he may be nursed by his family when

he falls ill, and that public benevolence may erect modest houses for

those unhappy ones in need of succour, where the patient may enjoy

efficacious scientific aid, and those comforts which the advance of

hygiene demands, and be spared the heart-rending sights and injurious

effects of the old hospitals.

II

The young physician, just beginning to practise, is astonished at

the remarkable things which his patients tell him with the utmost

confidence and in all good faith. Nearly all relate the story of their

illness, beginning with that circumstance which, in their opinion,

originated it. It is an innate tendency which spurs the human mind to

find an explanation for everything; and the reason of phenomena, which

is the foundation of science, is yet the cause of prejudices and the

most abundant source of error. If I were to mention the names of all

the maladies which are thought to be produced by fear, I should be

obliged to copy nearly the whole index of a pathological text-book, and

with small advantage to the reader, for the authors, after exhausting

their scientific matter, state empirically everything their patients

tell them, provided their affirmations bear an appearance of truth. I

shall only mention facts beyond doubt, or those least controversial,

supporting them by examples taken from the most reputed authors.

Chomel relates that a physician, after having performed the autopsy of

a man who had died from hydrophobia, was so overcome by the fear of

having infected himself, that he lost both appetite and sleep, felt a

horror of all liquids and a choking sensation in the throat when he

forced himself to drink. For three days he wandered through the streets

like one desperate. His colleagues and friends, believing it to be the

effect of imagination, made every effort to convince him of the fact,

and by keeping him with them, they succeeded in ridding him of the

ill-omened thought, and he recovered.

It is an incomprehensible phenomenon, but yet admitted by all medical

writers, that fear may of itself give rise to phenomena exactly

resembling those of hydrophobic infection. A celebrated physician,

Bosquillon, believed that fear alone was the cause of hydrophobia and

not the bite or the saliva of the dog.

Dubois tells of two brothers who were bitten by a mad dog. One had

to leave at once for America, and thought no more about it. When he

returned twenty years afterwards, he heard through some thoughtless

person that his brother had died of hydrophobia, and was so agitated

by the news that he fell ill and died, showing all the symptoms of

rabies. Medical works are full of instances of persons bitten by dogs,

who only developed hydrophobic symptoms after being incautiously told

that the dog was mad. It is often impossible even for the physician to

distinguish hypochondriac hydrophobia from true rabies; even the manner

of death is no guide, for tetanic contractions of the respiratory

organs appear also in hypochondriac hydrophobia.

The physician can often save these patients, if he knows how to exert

authority and to make use of means to convince the sufferer that he has

nothing to fear.

The story is told of a physician who was called to a female patient

infected with actual rabies, after his colleagues had declared that

she was incurable. He examined her attentively, then kissed her on

the mouth to prove to her that she was not hydrophobic. The patient

recovered.

More especially during epidemics does fear play havoc. From the most

remote antiquity physicians have observed that the timid die more

easily. Giorgio Baglivi, in his celebrated book 'Praxis Medica,’[34]

describing the effects of an earthquake which took place in Rome in

1703, says that although not a single person was killed, several

died of fever through fear, many women miscarried, and all bedridden

invalids grew worse. Larrey had already noticed that on the fields of

battle and in the lazarets soldiers belonging to the conquered army

succumbed more easily to their wounds, while the victors more speedily

recovered. This was confirmed in the war of 1870.

[34] Baglivi: _Praxis Medica_, liber. i, cap. xiv. s. 5.

Fear alone may develop all the symptoms of a pestilential malady,

even when the epidemic causes are totally wanting. Just recently, in

one of his works on hysteria and hypochondria, Jolly relates the case

of a patient of his, a lady in Strasburg, who received the news of

the death of a relative from cholera in a distant country. She was

very much frightened, and imagined that she herself was attacked by

it. She lost her appetite and suffered for eight days from violent

attacks of diarrhœa, and only after convincing her that there was

not a single case of cholera in Strasburg, and that she was a prey to

her own imagination, was it possible to allay the serious intestinal

disturbances produced by fear. As soon as a report of cholera spreads

through a town, all hypochondriacs feel worse.

Physicians who have described the dreadful spectacle of the lazarets

during epidemics, mention the great number who die victims to fear, in

many of whom the symptoms of the plague had not even appeared. Some

have died suddenly from the fear of being taken to the lazaret, others

have committed suicide, as we are told the cowardly have been seen

to do in battle, who, terrified at the sight of death, or weary of

suffering, have placed their chin on the muzzle of their gun and blown

out their brains.

What horror we should feel could we read year by year the story of

those who have succumbed to nostalgia, grief, humiliation; in misery,

winter-cold, or want of food! Of men who have died hopelessly in the

snow or lost in the sands of the desert, of others who have been

shipwrecked and thrown upon the rocks, and whom a little courage might

have saved; of men who have languished in gloomy prisons, in lonely

monasteries or in exile, and who have died rather of mental than of

bodily suffering.

III

Maladies which have their origin in fear must be distinguished from

those morbid conditions which are suddenly aggravated by the effect of

a strong emotion.

There are many who, when they receive a fright, become for the first

time aware of some infirmity, which then increases so rapidly as to

endanger their life.

Lamarre tells the following fact.[35] A lady, seventy-five years

of age, had suffered for about ten years from defective action of

the valves of the heart without this disease having hindered her

housewifely activity. Dr. Lamarre, who was her physician from 1865

to 1870, was called a few times to her. The hypertrophy of the heart

sufficiently counterbalanced the defect of the valves, and the pulse

was regular.

When the Franco-Prussian war broke out in 1870, her sons agreed to keep

her in ignorance of it, lest she should be afraid, she having already

witnessed the plundering of her father’s house by the Prussians in

1815. They succeeded easily in keeping all news of national disasters

from her, for they lived isolated in the country, and their mother read

no newspapers.

[35] Ed. Lamarre: _Contribution à l’étude du rôle du système nerveux

dans les affections du cœur_. Paris, 1882, p. 99.

On September 4, 1870, she suddenly heard of the defeats of the

French, and of the march of the German army upon Paris. It was such

a terrible shock to her that her face became livid, and she scarcely

had the strength to cry, as she pressed her hand to her heart, 'I am

suffocating--I am suffocating!’ Three-quarters of an hour later she

died in her sons’ arms.

The movements which she made with hands and face till the last moment,

and the great irregularity of the pulse, caused Dr. Lamarre to abandon

the idea of apoplexy, and accept as the cause of decease a nervous

perturbation of the heart brought on by violent mental agitation.

Pinel, one of the greatest celebrities in the domain of mental

diseases, always began the examination of a patient by asking him

whether he had not had some fright or some great vexation. In the study

of every nervous malady great importance must always be attributed

to the investigation of the moral causes. The vivid impression of a

strong emotion may produce the same effects as a blow on the head

or some physical shock. There are men who, through fear, have lost

consciousness, sight, or speech; others, still more sensitive, have

remained for a long time paralytic, unable to move legs or arms, and

have lost all sensibility. Some remain for a long time sleepless,

others fall into a sort of exaltation resembling the outbreak of mental

disease, many lose their appetite, or are afflicted with articular

diseases, and in some the nervous system suffers such a shock as to

cause violent fever.

Dr. Kohts, in his account of the maladies caused by fright during the

siege of Strasburg in 1870, gives a minute description of the cases of

_paralysis agitans_ and of convulsions which he observed. The tremor

and singing in the ears arose suddenly, often lasting for months,

and even for life in very nervous persons, as is also the case in

catalepsy, paralysis, and aphasy.

Leyden considers fright as one cause of myelitis. Likewise, in

sclerosis of the arteries, cardiac hypertrophy, fright may produce

hemiplegy. Berger instances two cases of perfectly healthy persons

who, immediately after a fright, were attacked by paraplegy, with

accompanying insensibility, without any serious anatomical injury, for

the phenomena rapidly disappeared.

It is often said, and with good reason, that children should not be

allowed to witness an epileptic fit, for the fright and emotion which

they suffer may prove dangerous, causing later a similar attack in

themselves. However difficult it may be to comprehend such a thing, it

is yet admitted by all. Quite recently Eulenburg and Berger saw two

old men, the one seventy, the other sixty-five years of age, who had

an epileptic fit immediately after such a fright, although they had

never had one before, nor were they predisposed to it. Romberg gives an

instance of a boy, ten years old, who was frightened in the morning by

a dog, and in the evening had an attack of St. Vitus’s dance.

One of the most moving instances I have read about the influence of

fear on the organism is in the description of the voyage of a sailing

ship, so storm-tossed that one wonders how it could withstand the

hurricanes which burst upon it. When scurvy broke out on board, the

doctor noticed that the disease increased whenever the fear gained

ground that land might still be far off. In every fresh tempest several

died, and others were seized with the malady; and when at length the

captain died, in whom all had great faith, the number of patients

became five times greater.

IV

The passions have been divided by physicians into the exciting and the

depressing. This distinction cannot, I think, be maintained at the

present day, for we need only think of the effects we see produced

by fear to be convinced that this emotion, which may at first appear

exciting, becomes instead depressing in its paroxysms. The same may

be said of narcotics and depressive remedies, which, in small doses,

excite, but in larger doses depress.

Some phenomena, such as the growing grey of the hair, the immediate

transmission of a nervous malady from the mother to the fœtus under

the influence of fright, the possible death of sucklings a few hours

after the mother has suffered great fear, although the infant was not

present--all these are incomprehensible phenomena which we only admit

because trustworthy observers and physicians affirm that they have

witnessed them.

Michea, a celebrated physician, one of the most profound in knowledge

of mental diseases, used to write insulting anonymous letters to some

of his patients in order to cure them, and, he assures, with good

result in some hypochondriacal cases. The mind may be drawn off from

a fixed idea by preoccupying it with some danger. Physicians have

sometimes had recourse in hysterical cases to threats or a sudden

fright to check dangerous symptoms when all other remedies have proved

useless. Amann tells of an hysterical patient who suffered from tetanic

convulsions and trances, and whose father treated her with blows and

cured her.

It is a well-known fact that fear sobers the drunken and cures slight

nervous affections, but nothing can encourage the physician to raise

fear to the rank of a curative method, as it may be expected that in

the greater number of cases nervous diseases would be aggravated by

such treatment.

Less questionable is, perhaps, the efficacy of fear in subduing nervous

maladies acquired by simple imitation; in this case it is probable

that the greater ill, as the saying is, drives out the lesser. In old

books of medicine stories are found of psychic maladies which, under

the name of St. Vitus’s dance, or tarantism, affected entire provinces

with a morbid excitement. The first symptoms of this malady appeared

in Aix-la-Chapelle, then it broke out in Cologne, afterwards in Metz,

whence it spread along the Rhine. Artisans, peasants, rich and poor, in

hundreds left their families, dominated by an irresistible desire to

dance. Intoxicated with excitement, they performed frenzied contortions

as though possessed, until at last they sank exhausted to the ground

or became incurably insane.

In suchlike cases Boerhave had recourse without hesitation to fright

and violent emotion to prevent the patients giving way to their

inclination. The story is told that while he was physician of the

orphan asylum in Haarlem, he suppressed an epileptic epidemic by means

of fright. Seeing that epileptic fits were daily increasing among his

patients, he ordered a large brasier full of coals to be lighted in the

room, heated a number of pincers and tweezers red-hot, and then told

his little patients he had given orders that all those who had fits

should be burnt.

This inhuman method gave rise to repulsive applications in the

treatment of epilepsy, but cases of cure resulting are so exceptional

that they certainly do not counterbalance the aggravated sufferings

of those uselessly subjected to a cruel emotion. This notion, that

maladies produced by strong emotions may be cured by others equally

strong, is found in the oldest books on medicine. Pliny relates

that the blood of the gladiators used to be drunk as a cure for the

falling-sickness.[36]

[36] Plinii _Historia Naturalis_: 'Sanguinem quoque gladiatorum bibunt,

ut viventibus poculis, comitiales morbi; quod spectare facientes in

eadem arena feras quoque horror est.’ Lib. xxvii. p. 9, vol. viii.

We read miraculous stories of persons who suddenly became dumb, and of

others who have regained their speech; and, indeed, such occurrences

take place still, although they lose the dignity of the miraculous as

soon as they are studied in the infirmaries.

The following is a case recently described by Dr. Werner.[37] A

girl, thirteen years old, suffered a great fright by falling under a

carriage. She escaped with a slight scratch, but suddenly lost her

speech. Dr. Werner tried to cure her by various methods during thirteen

months, without any result. At last he had prescribed bromide of

potassium, when one day the girl threw herself into her mother’s arms

and said, in a laboured voice, 'Mamma, I shall speak again.’ After one

week she spoke as before.

Wiedemeister tells a story of a bride who, as she was taking leave

after the wedding breakfast, suddenly lost her speech and remained dumb

for several years, until, overcome with fear at the sight of a fire,

she cried out 'Fire! Fire!’ and from that time continued to speak.

Pausanias, too, relates that a youth recovered his speech in the fright

caused by the sight of a lion, and Herodotus, in his history, narrates

that the son of Crœsus was dumb, and that, at the taking of Sardes,

seeing a Persian with drawn sword about to kill his father, he cried

out, overcome with fright, 'Kill not Crœsus!’ and from that moment he

was able to speak.

[37] Kussmaul: _Die Störungen der Sprache_, p. 200.

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