CHAPTER VI--PHYSICIANS

If we now turn to the medical talent which encountered the "Great

Mortality," the Middle Ages must stand excused, since even the moderns

are of opinion that the art of medicine is not able to cope with the

Oriental plague, and can afford deliverance from it only under

particularly favourable circumstances. We must bear in mind, also, that

human science and art appear particularly weak in great pestilences,

because they have to contend with the powers of nature, of which they

have no knowledge; and which, if they had been, or could be, comprehended

in their collective effects, would remain uncontrollable by them,

principally on account of the disordered condition of human society.

Moreover, every new plague has its peculiarities, which are the less

easily discovered on first view because, during its ravages, fear and

consternation humble the proud spirit.

The physicians of the fourteenth century, during the Black Death, did

what human intellect could do in the actual condition of the healing art;

and their knowledge of the disease was by no means despicable. They,

like the rest of mankind, have indulged in prejudices, and defended them,

perhaps, with too much obstinacy: some of these, however, were founded on

the mode of thinking of the age, and passed current in those days as

established truths; others continue to exist to the present hour.

Their successors in the nineteenth century ought not therefore to vaunt

too highly the pre-eminence of their knowledge, for they too will be

subjected to the severe judgment of posterity--they too will, with

reason, be accused of human weakness and want of foresight.

The medical faculty of Paris, the most celebrated of the fourteenth

century, were commissioned to deliver their opinion on the causes of the

Black Plague, and to furnish some appropriate regulations with regard to

living during its prevalence. This document is sufficiently remarkable

to find a place here.

"We, the Members of the College of Physicians of Paris, have, after

mature consideration and consultation on the present mortality, collected

the advice of our old masters in the art, and intend to make known the

causes of this pestilence more clearly than could be done according to

the rules and principles of astrology and natural science; we, therefore,

declare as follows:--

"It is known that in India and the vicinity of the Great Sea, the

constellations which combated the rays of the sun, and the warmth of the

heavenly fire, exerted their power especially against that sea, and

struggled violently with its waters. (Hence vapours often originate

which envelop the sun, and convert his light into darkness.) These

vapours alternately rose and fell for twenty-eight days; but, at last,

sun and fire acted so powerfully upon the sea that they attracted a great

portion of it to themselves, and the waters of the ocean arose in the

form of vapour; thereby the waters were in some parts so corrupted that

the fish which they contained died. These corrupted waters, however, the

heat of the sun could not consume, neither could other wholesome water,

hail or snow and dew, originate therefrom. On the contrary, this vapour

spread itself through the air in many places on the earth, and enveloped

them in fog.

"Such was the case all over Arabia, in a part of India, in Crete, in the

plains and valleys of Macedonia, in Hungary, Albania, and Sicily. Should

the same thing occur in Sardinia, not a man will be left alive, and the

like will continue so long as the sun remains in the sign of Leo, on all

the islands and adjoining countries to which this corrupted sea-wind

extends, or has already extended, from India. If the inhabitants of

those parts do not employ and adhere to the following or similar means

and precepts, we announce to them inevitable death, except the grace of

Christ preserve their lives.

"We are of opinion that the constellations, with the aid of nature,

strive by virtue of their Divine might, to protect and heal the human

race; and to this end, in union with the rays of the sun, acting through

the power of fire, endeavour to break through the mist. Accordingly,

within the next ten days, and until the 17th of the ensuing month of

July, this mist will be converted into a stinking deleterious rain,

whereby the air will be much purified. Now, as soon as this rain shall

announce itself by thunder or hail, every one of you should protect

himself from the air; and, as well before as after the rain, kindle a

large fire of vine-wood, green laurel, or other green wood; wormwood and

camomile should also be burnt in great quantity in the market-places, in

other densely inhabited localities, and in the houses. Until the earth

is again completely dry, and for three days afterwards, no one ought to

go abroad in the fields. During this time the diet should be simple, and

people should be cautious in avoiding exposure in the cool of the

evening, at night, and in the morning. Poultry and water-fowl, young

pork, old beef, and fat meat in general, should not be eaten; but, on the

contrary, meat of a proper age, of a warm and dry, but on no account of a

heating and exciting nature. Broth should be taken, seasoned with ground

pepper, ginger, and cloves, especially by those who are accustomed to

live temperately, and are yet choice in their diet. Sleep in the day-

time is detrimental; it should be taken at night until sunrise, or

somewhat longer. At breakfast one should drink little; supper should be

taken an hour before sunset, when more may be drunk than in the morning.

Clear light wine, mixed with a fifth or six part of water, should be used

as a beverage. Dried or fresh fruits, with wine, are not injurious, but

highly so without it. Beet-root and other vegetables, whether eaten

pickled or fresh, are hurtful; on the contrary, spicy pot-herbs, as sage

or rosemary, are wholesome. Cold, moist, watery food in is general

prejudicial. Going out at night, and even until three o'clock in the

morning, is dangerous, on account of dew. Only small river fish should

be used. Too much exercise is hurtful. The body should be kept warmer

than usual, and thus protected from moisture and cold. Rain-water must

not be employed in cooking, and every one should guard against exposure

to wet weather. If it rain, a little fine treacle should be taken after

dinner. Fat people should not sit in the sunshine. Good clear wine

should be selected and drunk often, but in small quantities, by day.

Olive oil as an article of food is fatal. Equally injurious are fasting

and excessive abstemiousness, anxiety of mind, anger, and immoderate

drinking. Young people, in autumn especially, must abstain from all

these things if they do not wish to run a risk of dying of dysentery. In

order to keep the body properly open, an enema, or some other simple

means, should be employed when necessary. Bathing is injurious. Men

must preserve chastity as they value their lives. Every one should

impress this on his recollection, but especially those who reside on the

coast, or upon an island into which the noxious wind has penetrated."

On what occasion these strange precepts were delivered can no longer be

ascertained, even if it were an object to know it. It must be

acknowledged, however, that they do not redound to the credit either of

the faculty of Paris, or of the fourteenth century in general. This

famous faculty found themselves under the painful necessity of being wise

at command, and of firing a point-blank shot of erudition at an enemy who

enveloped himself in a dark mist, of the nature of which they had no

conception. In concealing their ignorance by authoritative assertions,

they suffered themselves, therefore, to be misled; and while endeavouring

to appear to the world with _eclat_, only betrayed to the intelligent

their lamentable weakness. Now some might suppose that, in the condition

of the sciences of the fourteenth century, no intelligent physicians

existed; but this is altogether at variance with the laws of human

advancement, and is contradicted by history. The real knowledge of an

age is shown only in the archives of its literature. Here alone the

genius of truth speaks audibly--here alone men of talent deposit the

results of their experience and reflection without vanity or a selfish

object. There is no ground for believing that in the fourteenth century

men of this kind were publicly questioned regarding their views; and it

is, therefore, the more necessary that impartial history should take up

their cause, and do justice to their merits.

The first notice on this subject is due to a very celebrated teacher in

Perugia, Gentilis of Foligno, who, on the 18th of June, 1348, fell a

sacrifice to the plague, in the faithful discharge of his duty. Attached

to Arabian doctrines, and to the universally respected Galen, he, in

common with all his contemporaries, believed in a putrid corruption of

the blood in the lungs and in the heart, which was occasioned by the

pestilential atmosphere, and was forthwith communicated to the whole

body. He thought, therefore, that everything depended upon a sufficient

purification of the air, by means of large blazing fires of odoriferous

wood, in the vicinity of the healthy as well as of the sick, and also

upon an appropriate manner of living, so that the putridity might not

overpower the diseased. In conformity with notions derived from the

ancients, he depended upon bleeding and purging, at the commencement of

the attack, for the purpose of purification; ordered the healthy to wash

themselves frequently with vinegar or wine, to sprinkle their dwellings

with vinegar, and to smell often to camphor, or other volatile

substances. Hereupon he gave, after the Arabian fashion, detailed rules,

with an abundance of different medicines, of whose healing powers

wonderful things were believed. He had little stress upon super-lunar

influences, so far as respected the malady itself; on which account, he

did not enter into the great controversies of the astrologers, but always

kept in view, as an object of medical attention, the corruption of the

blood in the lungs and heart. He believed in a progressive infection

from country to country, according to the notions of the present day; and

the contagious power of the disease, even in the vicinity of those

affected by plague, was, in his opinion, beyond all doubt. On this point

intelligent contemporaries were all agreed; and, in truth, it required no

great genius to be convinced of so palpable a fact. Besides, correct

notions of contagion have descended from remote antiquity, and were

maintained unchanged in the fourteenth century. So far back as the age

of Plato a knowledge of the contagious power of malignant inflammations

of the eye, of which also no physician of the Middle Ages entertained a

doubt, was general among the people; yet in modern times surgeons have

filled volumes with partial controversies on this subject. The whole

language of antiquity has adapted itself to the notions of the people

respecting the contagion of pestilential diseases; and their terms were,

beyond comparison, more expressive than those in use among the moderns.

Arrangements for the protection of the healthy against contagious

diseases, the necessity of which is shown from these notions, were

regarded by the ancients as useful; and by man, whose circumstances

permitted it, were carried into effect in their houses. Even a total

separation of the sick from the healthy, that indispensable means of

protection against infection by contact, was proposed by physicians of

the second century after Christ, in order to check the spreading of

leprosy. But it was decidedly opposed, because, as it was alleged, the

healing art ought not to be guilty of such harshness. This mildness of

the ancients, in whose manner of thinking inhumanity was so often and so

undisguisedly conspicuous, might excite surprise if it were anything more

than apparent. The true ground of the neglect of public protection

against pestilential diseases lay in the general notion and constitution

of human society--it lay in the disregard of human life, of which the

great nations of antiquity have given proofs in every page of their

history. Let it not be supposed that they wanted knowledge respecting

the propagation of contagious diseases. On the contrary, they were as

well informed on this subject as the modern; but this was shown where

individual property, not where human life, on the grand scale was to be

protected. Hence the ancients made a general practice of arresting the

progress of murrains among cattle by a separation of the diseased from

the healthy. Their herds alone enjoyed that protection which they held

it impracticable to extend to human society, because they had no wish to

do so. That the governments in the fourteenth century were not yet so

far advanced as to put into practice general regulations for checking the

plague needs no especial proof. Physicians could, therefore, only advise

public purifications of the air by means of large fires, as had often

been practised in ancient times; and they were obliged to leave it to

individual families either to seek safety in flight, or to shut

themselves up in their dwellings, a method which answers in common

plagues, but which here afforded no complete security, because such was

the fury of the disease when it was at its height, that the atmosphere of

whole cities was penetrated by the infection.

Of the astral influence which was considered to have originated the

"Great Mortality," physicians and learned men were as completely

convinced as of the fact of its reality. A grand conjunction of the

three superior planets, Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, in the sign of

Aquarius, which took place, according to Guy de Chauliac, on the 24th of

March, 1345, was generally received as its principal cause. In fixing

the day, this physician, who was deeply versed in astrology, did not

agree with others; whereupon there arose various disputations, of weight

in that age, but of none in ours. People, however, agree in this--that

conjunctions of the planets infallibly prognosticated great events; great

revolutions of kingdoms, new prophets, destructive plagues, and other

occurrences which bring distress and horror on mankind. No medical

author of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries omits an opportunity of

representing them as among the general prognostics of great plagues; nor

can we, for our part, regard the astrology of the Middle Ages as a mere

offspring of superstition. It has not only, in common with all ideas

which inspire and guide mankind, a high historical importance, entirely

independent of its error or truth--for the influence of both is equally

powerful--but there are also contained in it, as in alchemy, grand

thoughts of antiquity, of which modern natural philosophy is so little

ashamed that she claims them as her property. Foremost among these is

the idea of general life which diffuses itself throughout the whole

universe, expressed by the greatest Greek sages, and transmitted to the

Middle Ages, through the new Platonic natural philosophy. To this

impression of an universal organism, the assumption of a reciprocal

influence of terrestrial bodies could not be foreign, nor did this cease

to correspond with a higher view of nature, until astrologers overstepped

the limits of human knowledge with frivolous and mystical calculations.

Guy de Chauliac considers the influence of the conjunction, which was

held to be all-potent, as the chief general cause of the Black Plague;

and the diseased state of bodies, the corruption of the fluids, debility,

obstruction, and so forth, as the especial subordinate causes. By these,

according to his opinion, the quality of the air, and of the other

elements, was so altered that they set poisonous fluids in motion towards

the inward parts of the body, in the same manner as the magnet attracts

iron; whence there arose in the commencement fever and the spitting of

blood; afterwards, however, a deposition in the form on glandular

swellings and inflammatory boils. Herein the notion of an epidemic

constitution was set forth clearly, and conformably to the spirit of the

age. Of contagion, Guy de Chauliac was completely convinced. He sought

to protect himself against it by the usual means; and it was probably he

who advised Pope Clement VI. to shut himself up while the plague lasted.

The preservation of this Pope's life, however, was most beneficial to the

city of Avignon, for he loaded the poor with judicious acts of kindness,

took care to have proper attendants provided, and paid physicians himself

to afford assistance wherever human aid could avail--an advantage which,

perhaps, no other city enjoyed. Nor was the treatment of plague-patients

in Avignon by any means objectionable; for, after the usual depletions by

bleeding and aperients, where circumstances required them, they

endeavoured to bring the buboes to suppuration; they made incisions into

the inflammatory boils, or burned them with a red-hot iron, a practice

which at all times proves salutary, and in the Black Plague saved many

lives. In this city, the Jews, who lived in a state of the greatest

filth, were most severely visited, as also the Spaniards, whom Chalin

accuses of great intemperance.

Still more distinct notions on the causes of the plague were stated to

his contemporaries in the fourteenth century by Galeazzo di Santa Sofia,

a learned man, a native of Padua, who likewise treated plague-patients at

Vienna, though in what year is undetermined. He distinguishes carefully

_pestilence_ from _epidemy_ and _endemy_. The common notion of the two

first accords exactly with that of an epidemic constitution, for both

consist, according to him, in an unknown change or corruption of the air;

with this difference, that pestilence calls forth diseases of different

kinds; epidemy, on the contrary, always the same disease. As an example

of an epidemy, he adduces a cough (influenza) which was observed in all

climates at the same time without perceptible cause; but he recognised

the approach of a pestilence, independently of unusual natural phenomena,

by the more frequent occurrence of various kinds of fever, to which the

modern physicians would assign a nervous and putrid character. The

endemy originates, according to him, only in local telluric changes--in

deleterious influences which develop themselves in the earth and in the

water, without a corruption of the air. These notions were variously

jumbled together in his time, like everything which human understanding

separates by too fine a line of limitation. The estimation of cosmical

influences, however, in the epidemy and pestilence, is well worthy of

commendation; and Santa Sofia, in this respect, not only agrees with the

most intelligent persons of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, but

he has also promulgated an opinion which must, even now, serve as a

foundation for our scarcely commenced investigations into cosmical

influences. Pestilence and epidemy consist not in alterations of the

four primary qualities, but in a corruption of the air, powerful, though

quite immaterial, and not cognoscible by the senses--(corruptio aeris non

substantialis, sed qualitativa) in a disproportion of the imponderables

in the atmosphere, as it would be expressed by the moderns. The causes

of the pestilence and epidemy are, first of all, astral influences,

especially on occasions of planetary conjunctions; then extensive

putrefaction of animal and vegetable bodies, and terrestrial corruptions

(corruptio in terra): to which also bad diet and want may contribute.

Santa Sofia considers the putrefaction of locusts, that had perished in

the sea and were again thrown up, combined with astral and terrestrial

influences, as the cause of the pestilence in the eventful year of the

"Great Mortality."

All the fevers which were called forth by the pestilence are, according

to him, of the putrid kind; for they originate principally from putridity

of the heart's blood, which inevitably follows the inhalation of infected

air. The Oriental Plague is, sometimes, but by no means always

occasioned by _pestilence_ (?), which imparts to it a character

(_qualitas occulta_) hostile to human nature. It originates frequently

from other causes, among which this physician was aware that contagion

was to be reckoned; and it deserves to be remarked that he held epidemic

small-pox and measles to be infallible forerunners of the plague, as do

the physicians and people of the East at the present day.

In the exposition of his therapeutical views of the plague, a clearness

of intellect is again shown by Santa Sofia, which reflects credit on the

age. It seemed to him to depend, 1st, on an evacuation of putrid matters

by purgatives and bleeding; yet he did not sanction the employment of

these means indiscriminately and without consideration; least of all

where the condition of the blood was healthy. He also declared himself

decidedly against bleeding _ad deliquium_ (_venae sectio eradicativa_).

2nd, Strengthening of the heart and prevention of putrescence. 3rd,

Appropriate regimen. 4th, Improvement of the air. 5th, Appropriate

treatment of tumid glands and inflammatory boils, with emollient, or even

stimulating poultices (mustard, lily-bulbs), as well as with red-hot gold

and iron. Lastly, 6th, Attention to prominent symptoms. The stores of

the Arabian pharmacy, which he brought into action to meet all these

indications, were indeed very considerable; it is to be observed,

however, that, for the most part, gentle means were accumulated, which,

in case of abuse, would do no harm: for the character of the Arabian

system of medicine, whose principles were everywhere followed at this

time, was mildness and caution. On this account, too, we cannot believe

that a very prolix treatise by Marsigli di Santa Sofia, a contemporary

relative of Galeazzo, on the prevention and treatment of plague, can have

caused much harm, although perhaps, even in the fourteenth century, an

agreeable latitude and confident assertions respecting things which no

mortal has investigated, or which it is quite a matter of indifference to

distinguish, were considered as proofs of a valuable practical talent.

The agreement of contemporary and later writers shows that the published

views of the most celebrated physicians of the fourteenth century were

those generally adopted. Among these, Chalin de Vinario is the most

experienced. Though devoted to astrology still more than his

distinguished contemporary, he acknowledges the great power of

terrestrial influences, and expresses himself very sensibly on the

indisputable doctrine of contagion, endeavouring thereby to apologise for

many surgeons and physicians of his time who neglected their duty. He

asserted boldly and with truth, "_that all epidemic diseases might become

contagious_, _and all fevers epidemic_," which attentive observers of all

subsequent ages have confirmed.

He delivered his sentiments on blood-letting with sagacity, as an

experienced physician; yet he was unable, as may be imagined, to moderate

the desire for bleeding shown by the ignorant monks. He was averse to

draw blood from the veins of patients under fourteen years of age; but

counteracted inflammatory excitement in them by cupping, and endeavoured

to moderate the inflammation of the tumid glands by leeches. Most of

those who were bled, died; he therefore reserved this remedy for the

plethoric; especially for the papal courtiers and the hypocritical

priests, whom he saw gratifying their sensual desires, and imitating

Epicurus, whilst they pompously pretended to follow Christ. He

recommended burning the boils with a red-hot iron only in the plague

without fever, which occurred in single cases; and was always ready to

correct those over-hasty surgeons who, with fire and violent remedies,

did irremediable injury to their patients. Michael Savonarola, professor

in Ferrara (1462), reasoning on the susceptibility of the human frame to

the influence of pestilential infection, as the cause of such various

modifications of disease, expresses himself as a modern physician would

on this point; and an adoption of the principle of contagion was the

foundation of his definition of the plague. No less worthy of

observation are the views of the celebrated Valescus of Taranta, who,

during the final visitation of the Black Death, in 1382, practised as a

physician at Montpellier, and handed down to posterity what has been

repeated in innumerable treatises on plague, which were written during

the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Of all these notions and views regarding the plague, whose development we

have represented, there are two especially, which are prominent in

historical importance:--1st, The opinion of learned physicians, that the

pestilence, or epidemic constitution, is the parent of various kinds of

disease; that the plague sometimes, indeed, but by no means always,

originates from it: that, to speak in the language of the moderns, the

pestilence bears the same relation to contagion that a predisposing cause

does to an occasional cause; and 2ndly, the universal conviction of the

contagious power of that disease.

Contagion gradually attracted more notice: it was thought that in it the

most powerful occasional cause might be avoided; the possibility of

protecting whole cities by separation became gradually more evident; and

so horrifying was the recollection of the eventful year of the "Great

Mortality," that before the close of the fourteenth century, ere the ill

effects of the Black Plague had ceased, nations endeavoured to guard

against the return of this enemy by an earnest and effectual defence.

The first regulation which was issued for this purpose, originated with

Viscount Bernabo, and is dated the 17th January, 1374. "Every plague-

patient was to be taken out of the city into the fields, there to die or

to recover. Those who attended upon a plague-patient, were to remain

apart for ten days before they again associated with anybody. The

priests were to examine the diseased, and point out to special

commissioners the persons infected, under punishment of the confiscation

of their goods and of being burned alive. Whoever imported the plague,

the state condemned his goods to confiscation. Finally, none except

those who were appointed for that purpose were to attend plague-patients,

under penalty of death and confiscation."

These orders, in correspondence with the spirit of the fourteenth

century, are sufficiently decided to indicate a recollection of the good

effects of confinement, and of keeping at a distance those suspected of

having plague. It was said that Milan itself, by a rigorous barricade of

three houses in which the plague had broken out, maintained itself free

from the "Great Mortality" for a considerable time; and examples of the

preservation of individual families, by means of a strict separation,

were certainly very frequent. That these orders must have caused

universal affliction from their uncommon severity, as we know to have

been especially the case in the city of Reggio, may be easily conceived;

but Bernabo did not suffer himself to be deterred from his purpose by

fear--on the contrary, when the plague returned in the year 1383, he

forbade the admission of people from infected places into his territories

on pain of death. We have now, it is true, no account how far he

succeeded; yet it is to be supposed that he arrested the disease, for it

had long lost the property of the Black Death, to spread abroad in the

air the contagious matter which proceeded from the lungs, charged with

putridity, and to taint the atmosphere of whole cities by the vast

numbers of the sick. Now that it had resumed its milder form, so that it

infected only by contact, it admitted being confined within individual

dwellings, as easily as in modern times.

Bernabo's example was imitated; nor was there any century more

appropriate for recommending to governments strong regulations against

the plague that the fourteenth; for when it broke out in Italy, in the

year 1399, and still demanded new victims, it was for the sixteenth time,

without reckoning frequent visitations of measles and small-pox. In this

same year, Viscount John, in milder terms than his predecessor, ordered

that no stranger should be admitted from infected places, and that the

city gates should be strictly guarded. Infected houses were to be

ventilated for at least eight or ten days, and purified from noxious

vapours by fires, and by fumigations with balsamic and aromatic

substances. Straw, rags, and the like were to be burned; and the

bedsteads which had been used, set out for four days in the rain or the

sunshine, so that by means of the one or the other, the morbific vapour

might be destroyed. No one was to venture to make use of clothes or beds

out of infected dwellings unless they had been previously washed and

dried either at the fire or in the sun. People were, likewise, to avoid,

as long as possible, occupying houses which had been frequented by plague-

patients.

We cannot precisely perceive in these an advance towards general

regulations; and perhaps people were convinced of the insurmountable

impediments which opposed the separation of open inland countries, where

bodies of people connected together could not be brought, even by the

most obdurate severity, to renounce the habit of profitable intercourse.

Doubtless it is nature which has done the most to banish the Oriental

plague from western Europe, where the increasing cultivation of the

earth, and the advancing order in civilised society, have prevented it

from remaining domesticated, which it most probably was in the more

ancient times.

In the fifteenth century, during which it broke out seventeen times in

different places in Europe, it was of the more consequence to oppose a

barrier to its entrance from Asia, Africa, and Greece (which had become

Turkish); for it would have been difficult for it to maintain itself

indigenously any longer. Among the southern commercial states, however,

which were called on to make the greatest exertions to this end, it was

principally Venice, formerly so severely attacked by the Black Plague,

that put the necessary restraint upon perilous profits of the merchant.

Until towards the end of the fifteenth century, the very considerable

intercourse with the East was free and unimpeded. Ships of commercial

cities had often brought over the plague: nay, the former irruption of

the "Great Mortality" itself had been occasioned by navigators. For, as

in the latter end of autumn, 1347, four ships full of plague-patients

returned from the Levant to Genoa, the disease spread itself there with

astonishing rapidity. On this account, in the following year, the

Genoese forbade the entrance of suspected ships into their port. These

sailed to Pisa and other cities on the coast, where already nature had

made such mighty preparations for the reception of the Black Plague, and

what we have already described took place in consequence.

In the year 1485, when, among the cities of northern Italy, Milan

especially felt the scourge of the plague, a special Council of Health,

consisting of three nobles, was established at Venice, who probably tried

everything in their power to prevent the entrance of this disease, and

gradually called into activity all those regulations which have served in

later times as a pattern for the other southern states of Europe. Their

endeavours were, however, not crowned with complete success; on which

account their powers were increased, in the year 1504, by granting them

the right of life and death over those who violated the regulations.

Bills of health were probably first introduced in the year 1527, during a

fatal plague which visited Italy for five years (1525-30), and called

forth redoubled caution.

The first lazarettos were established upon islands at some distance from

the city, seemingly as early as the year 1485. Here all strangers coming

from places where the existence of plague was suspected were detained. If

it appeared in the city itself, the sick were despatched with their

families to what was called the Old Lazaretto, were there furnished with

provisions and medicines, and when they were cured, were detained,

together with all those who had had intercourse with them, still forty

days longer in the New Lazaretto, situated on another island. All these

regulations were every year improved, and their needful rigour was

increased, so that from the year 1585 onwards, no appeal was allowed from

the sentence of the Council of Health; and the other commercial nations

gradually came to the support of the Venetians, by adopting corresponding

regulations. Bills of health, however, were not general until the year

1665.

The appointment of a forty days' detention, whence quarantines derive

their name, was not dictated by caprice, but probably had a medical

origin, which is derivable in part from the doctrine of critical days;

for the fortieth day, according to the most ancient notions, has been

always regarded as the last of ardent diseases, and the limit of

separation between these and those which are chronic. It was the custom

to subject lying-in women for forty days to a more exact superintendence.

There was a good deal also said in medical works of forty-day epochs in

the formation of the foetus, not to mention that the alchemists expected

more durable revolutions in forty days, which period they called the

philosophical month.

This period being generally held to prevail in natural processes, it

appeared reasonable to assume, and legally to establish it, as that

required for the development of latent principles of contagion, since

public regulations cannot dispense with decisions of this kind, even

though they should not be wholly justified by the nature of the case.

Great stress has likewise been laid on theological and legal grounds,

which were certainly of greater weight in the fifteenth century than in

the modern times.

On this matter, however, we cannot decide, since our only object here is

to point out the origin of a political means of protection against a

disease which has been the greatest impediment to civilisation within the

memory of man; a means that, like Jenner's vaccine, after the small-pox

had ravaged Europe for twelve hundred years, has diminished the check

which mortality puts on the progress of civilisation, and thus given to

the life and manners of the nations of this part of the world a new

direction, the result of which we cannot foretell.

THE DANCING MANIA

CHAPTER I--THE DANCING MANIA IN GERMANY AND THE NETHERLANDS

SECT. 1--ST. JOHN'S DANCE

The effects of the Black Death had not yet subsided, and the graves of

millions of its victims were scarcely closed, when a strange delusion

arose in Germany, which took possession of the minds of men, and, in

spite of the divinity of our nature, hurried away body and soul into the

magic circle of hellish superstition. It was a convulsion which in the

most extraordinary manner infuriated the human frame, and excited the

astonishment of contemporaries for more than two centuries, since which

time it has never reappeared. It was called the dance of St. John or of

St. Vitus, on account of the Bacchantic leaps by which it was

characterised, and which gave to those affected, whilst performing their

wild dance, and screaming and foaming with fury, all the appearance of

persons possessed. It did not remain confined to particular localities,

but was propagated by the sight of the sufferers, like a demoniacal

epidemic, over the whole of Germany and the neighbouring countries to the

north-west, which were already prepared for its reception by the

prevailing opinions of the time.

So early as the year 1374, assemblages of men and women were seen at Aix-

la-Chapelle, who had come out of Germany, and who, united by one common

delusion, exhibited to the public both in the streets and in the churches

the following strange spectacle. They formed circles hand in hand, and

appearing to have lost all control over their senses, continued dancing,

regardless of the bystanders, for hours together, in wild delirium, until

at length they fell to the ground in a state of exhaustion. They then

complained of extreme oppression, and groaned as if in the agonies of

death, until they were swathed in cloths bound tightly round their

waists, upon which they again recovered, and remained free from complaint

until the next attack. This practice of swathing was resorted to on

account of the tympany which followed these spasmodic ravings, but the

bystanders frequently relieved patients in a less artificial manner, by

thumping and trampling upon the parts affected. While dancing they

neither saw nor heard, being insensible to external impressions through

the senses, but were haunted by visions, their fancies conjuring up

spirits whose names they shrieked out; and some of them afterwards

asserted that they felt as if they had been immersed in a stream of

blood, which obliged them to leap so high. Others, during the paroxysm,

saw the heavens open and the Saviour enthroned with the Virgin Mary,

according as the religious notions of the age were strangely and

variously reflected in their imaginations.

Where the disease was completely developed, the attack commenced with

epileptic convulsions. Those affected fell to the ground senseless,

panting and labouring for breath. They foamed at the mouth, and suddenly

springing up began their dance amidst strange contortions. Yet the

malady doubtless made its appearance very variously, and was modified by

temporary or local circumstances, whereof non-medical contemporaries but

imperfectly noted the essential particulars, accustomed as they were to

confound their observation of natural events with their notions of the

world of spirits.

It was but a few months ere this demoniacal disease had spread from Aix-

la-Chapelle, where it appeared in July, over the neighbouring

Netherlands. In Liege, Utrecht, Tongres, and many other towns of

Belgium, the dancers appeared with garlands in their hair, and their

waists girt with cloths, that they might, as soon as the paroxysm was

over, receive immediate relief on the attack of the tympany. This

bandage was, by the insertion of a stick, easily twisted tight: many,

however, obtained more relief from kicks and blows, which they found

numbers of persons ready to administer: for, wherever the dancers

appeared, the people assembled in crowds to gratify their curiosity with

the frightful spectacle. At length the increasing number of the affected

excited no less anxiety than the attention that was paid to them. In

towns and villages they took possession of the religious houses,

processions were everywhere instituted on their account, and masses were

said and hymns were sung, while the disease itself, of the demoniacal

origin of which no one entertained the least doubt, excited everywhere

astonishment and horror. In Liege the priests had recourse to exorcisms,

and endeavoured by every means in their power to allay an evil which

threatened so much danger to themselves; for the possessed assembling in

multitudes, frequently poured forth imprecations against them, and

menaced their destruction. They intimidated the people also to such a

degree that there was an express ordinance issued that no one should make

any but square-toed shoes, because these fanatics had manifested a morbid

dislike to the pointed shoes which had come into fashion immediately

after the "Great Mortality" in 1350. They were still more irritated at

the sight of red colours, the influence of which on the disordered nerves

might lead us to imagine an extraordinary accordance between this

spasmodic malady and the condition of infuriated animals; but in the St.

John's dancers this excitement was probably connected with apparitions

consequent upon their convulsions. There were likewise some of them who

were unable to endure the sight of persons weeping. The clergy seemed to

become daily more and more confirmed in their belief that those who were

affected were a kind of sectarians, and on this account they hastened

their exorcisms as much as possible, in order that the evil might not

spread amongst the higher classes, for hitherto scarcely any but the poor

had been attacked, and the few people of respectability among the laity

and clergy who were to be found among them, were persons whose natural

frivolity was unable to withstand the excitement of novelty, even though

it proceeded from a demoniacal influence. Some of the affected had

indeed themselves declared, when under the influence of priestly forms of

exorcism, that if the demons had been allowed only a few weeks' more

time, they would have entered the bodies of the nobility and princes, and

through these have destroyed the clergy. Assertions of this sort, which

those possessed uttered whilst in a state which may be compared with that

of magnetic sleep, obtained general belief, and passed from mouth to

mouth with wonderful additions. The priesthood were, on this account, so

much the more zealous in their endeavours to anticipate every dangerous

excitement of the people, as if the existing order of things could have

been seriously threatened by such incoherent ravings. Their exertions

were effectual, for exorcism was a powerful remedy in the fourteenth

century; or it might perhaps be that this wild infatuation terminated in

consequence of the exhaustion which naturally ensued from it; at all

events, in the course of ten or eleven months the St. John's dancers were

no longer to be found in any of the cities of Belgium. The evil,

however, was too deeply rooted to give way altogether to such feeble

attacks.

A few months after this dancing malady had made its appearance at Aix-la-

Chapelle, it broke out at Cologne, where the number of those possessed

amounted to more than five hundred, and about the same time at Metz, the

streets of which place are said to have been filled with eleven hundred

dancers. Peasants left their ploughs, mechanics their workshops,

housewives their domestic duties, to join the wild revels, and this rich

commercial city became the scene of the most ruinous disorder. Secret

desires were excited, and but too often found opportunities for wild

enjoyment; and numerous beggars, stimulated by vice and misery, availed

themselves of this new complaint to gain a temporary livelihood. Girls

and boys quitted their parents, and servants their masters, to amuse

themselves at the dances of those possessed, and greedily imbibed the

poison of mental infection. Above a hundred unmarried women were seen

raving about in consecrated and unconsecrated places, and the

consequences were soon perceived. Gangs of idle vagabonds, who

understood how to imitate to the life the gestures and convulsions of

those really affected, roved from place to place seeking maintenance and

adventures, and thus, wherever they went, spreading this disgusting

spasmodic disease like a plague; for in maladies of this kind the

susceptible are infected as easily by the appearance as by the reality.

At last it was found necessary to drive away these mischievous guests,

who were equally inaccessible to the exorcisms of the priests and the

remedies of the physicians. It was not, however, until after four months

that the Rhenish cities were able to suppress these impostures, which had

so alarmingly increased the original evil. In the meantime, when once

called into existence, the plague crept on, and found abundant food in

the tone of thought which prevailed in the fourteenth and fifteenth

centuries, and even, though in a minor degree, throughout the sixteenth

and seventeenth, causing a permanent disorder of the mind, and exhibiting

in those cities to whose inhabitants it was a novelty, scenes as strange

as they were detestable.

SECT. 2--ST. VITUS'S DANCE

Strasburg was visited by the "Dancing Plague" in the year 1418, and the

same infatuation existed among the people there, as in the towns of

Belgium and the Lower Rhine. Many who were seized at the sight of those

affected, excited attention at first by their confused and absurd

behaviour, and then by their constantly following swarms of dancers.

These were seen day and night passing through the streets, accompanied by

musicians playing on bagpipes, and by innumerable spectators attracted by

curiosity, to which were added anxious parents and relations, who came to

look after those among the misguided multitude who belonged to their

respective families. Imposture and profligacy played their part in this

city also, but the morbid delusion itself seems to have predominated. On

this account religion could only bring provisional aid, and therefore the

town council benevolently took an interest in the afflicted. They

divided them into separate parties, to each of which they appointed

responsible superintendents to protect them from harm, and perhaps also

to restrain their turbulence. They were thus conducted on foot and in

carriages to the chapels of St. Vitus, near Zabern and Rotestein, where

priests were in attendance to work upon their misguided minds by masses

and other religious ceremonies. After divine worship was completed, they

were led in solemn procession to the altar, where they made some small

offering of alms, and where it is probable that many were, through the

influence of devotion and the sanctity of the place, cured of this

lamentable aberration. It is worthy of observation, at all events, that

the Dancing Mania did not recommence at the altars of the saint, and that

from him alone assistance was implored, and through his miraculous

interposition a cure was expected, which was beyond the reach of human

skill. The personal history of St. Vitus is by no means important in

this matter. He was a Sicilian youth, who, together with Modestus and

Crescentia, suffered martyrdom at the time of the persecution of the

Christians, under Diocletian, in the year 303. The legends respecting

him are obscure, and he would certainly have been passed over without

notice among the innumerable apocryphal martyrs of the first centuries,

had not the transfer of his body to St. Denys, and thence, in the year

836, to Corvey, raised him to a higher rank. From this time forth it may

be supposed that many miracles were manifested at his new sepulchre,

which were of essential service in confirming the Roman faith among the

Germans, and St. Vitus was soon ranked among the fourteen saintly helpers

(Nothhelfer or Apotheker). His altars were multiplied, and the people

had recourse to them in all kinds of distresses, and revered him as a

powerful intercessor. As the worship of these saints was, however, at

that time stripped of all historical connections, which were purposely

obliterated by the priesthood, a legend was invented at the beginning of

the fifteenth century, or perhaps even so early as the fourteenth, that

St. Vitus had, just before he bent his neck to the sword, prayed to God

that he might protect from the Dancing Mania all those who should

solemnise the day of his commemoration, and fast upon its eve, and that

thereupon a voice from heaven was heard, saying, "Vitus, thy prayer is

accepted." Thus St. Vitus became the patron saint of those afflicted

with the Dancing Plague, as St. Martin of Tours was at one time the

succourer of persons in small-pox, St. Antonius of those suffering under

the "hellish fire," and as St. Margaret was the Juno Lucina of puerperal

women.

SECT. 3--CAUSES

The connection which John the Baptist had with the Dancing Mania of the

fourteenth century was of a totally different character. He was

originally far from being a protecting saint to those who were attacked,

or one who would be likely to give them relief from a malady considered

as the work of the devil. On the contrary, the manner in which he was

worshipped afforded an important and very evident cause for its

development. From the remotest period, perhaps even so far back as the

fourth century, St. John's day was solemnised with all sorts of strange

and rude customs, of which the originally mystical meaning was variously

disfigured among different nations by superadded relics of heathenism.

Thus the Germans transferred to the festival of St. John's day an ancient

heathen usage, the kindling of the "Nodfyr," which was forbidden them by

St. Boniface, and the belief subsists even to the present day that people

and animals that have leaped through these flames, or their smoke, are

protected for a whole year from fevers and other diseases, as if by a

kind of baptism by fire. Bacchanalian dances, which have originated in

similar causes among all the rude nations of the earth, and the wild

extravagancies of a heated imagination, were the constant accompaniments

of this half-heathen, half-Christian festival. At the period of which we

are treating, however, the Germans were not the only people who gave way

to the ebullitions of fanaticism in keeping the festival of St. John the

Baptist. Similar customs were also to be found among the nations of

Southern Europe and of Asia, and it is more than probable that the Greeks

transferred to the festival of John the Baptist, who is also held in high

esteem among the Mahomedans, a part of their Bacchanalian mysteries, an

absurdity of a kind which is but too frequently met with in human

affairs. How far a remembrance of the history of St. John's death may

have had an influence on this occasion, we would leave learned

theologians to decide. It is only of importance here to add that in

Abyssinia, a country entirely separated from Europe, where Christianity

has maintained itself in its primeval simplicity against Mahomedanism,

John is to this day worshipped, as protecting saint of those who are

attacked with the dancing malady. In these fragments of the dominion of

mysticism and superstition, historical connection is not to be found.

When we observe, however, that the first dancers in Aix-la-Chapelle

appeared in July with St. John's name in their mouths, the conjecture is

probable that the wild revels of St. John's day, A.D. 1374, gave rise to

this mental plague, which thenceforth has visited so many thousands with

incurable aberration of mind, and disgusting distortions of body.

This is rendered so much the more probable because some months previously

the districts in the neighbourhood of the Rhine and the Main had met with

great disasters. So early as February, both these rivers had overflowed

their banks to a great extent; the walls of the town of Cologne, on the

side next the Rhine, had fallen down, and a great many villages had been

reduced to the utmost distress. To this was added the miserable

condition of western and southern Germany. Neither law nor edict could

suppress the incessant feuds of the Barons, and in Franconia especially,

the ancient times of club law appeared to be revived. Security of

property there was none; arbitrary will everywhere prevailed; corruption

of morals and rude power rarely met with even a feeble opposition; whence

it arose that the cruel, but lucrative, persecutions of the Jews were in

many places still practised through the whole of this century with their

wonted ferocity. Thus, throughout the western parts of Germany, and

especially in the districts bordering on the Rhine, there was a wretched

and oppressed populace; and if we take into consideration that among

their numerous bands many wandered about, whose consciences were

tormented with the recollection of the crimes which they had committed

during the prevalence of the Black Plague, we shall comprehend how their

despair sought relief in the intoxication of an artificial delirium.

There is hence good ground for supposing that the frantic celebration of

the festival of St. John, A.D. 1374, only served to bring to a crisis a

malady which had been long impending; and if we would further inquire how

a hitherto harmless usage, which like many others had but served to keep

up superstition, could degenerate into so serious a disease, we must take

into account the unusual excitement of men's minds, and the consequences

of wretchedness and want. The bowels, which in many were debilitated by

hunger and bad food, were precisely the parts which in most cases were

attacked with excruciating pain, and the tympanitic state of the

intestines points out to the intelligent physician an origin of the

disorder which is well worth consideration.

SECT. 4--MORE ANCIENT DANCING PLAGUES

The Dancing Mania of the year 1374 was, in fact, no new disease, but a

phenomenon well known in the Middle Ages, of which many wondrous stories

were traditionally current among the people. In the year 1237 upwards of

a hundred children were said to have been suddenly seized with this

disease at Erfurt, and to have proceeded dancing and jumping along the

road to Arnstadt. When they arrived at that place they fell exhausted to

the ground, and, according to an account of an old chronicle, many of

them, after they were taken home by their parents, died, and the rest

remained affected, to the end of their lives, with a permanent tremor.

Another occurrence was related to have taken place on the Moselle Bridge

at Utrecht, on the 17th day of June, A.D. 1278, when two hundred fanatics

began to dance, and would not desist until a priest passed, who was

carrying the Host to a person that was sick, upon which, as if in

punishment of their crime, the bridge gave way, and they were all

drowned. A similar event also occurred so early as the year 1027, near

the convent church of Kolbig, not far from Bernburg. According to an oft-

repeated tradition, eighteen peasants, some of whose names are still

preserved, are said to have disturbed divine service on Christmas Eve by

dancing and brawling in the churchyard, whereupon the priest, Ruprecht,

inflicted a curse upon them, that they should dance and scream for a

whole year without ceasing. This curse is stated to have been completely

fulfilled, so that the unfortunate sufferers at length sank knee-deep

into the earth, and remained the whole time without nourishment, until

they were finally released by the intercession of two pious bishops. It

is said that, upon this, they fell into a deep sleep, which lasted three

days, and that four of them died; the rest continuing to suffer all their

lives from a trembling of their limbs. It is not worth while to separate

what may have been true, and what the addition of crafty priests, in this

strangely distorted story. It is sufficient that it was believed, and

related with astonishment and horror, throughout the Middle Ages; so that

when there was any exciting cause for this delirious raving and wild rage

for dancing, it failed not to produce its effects upon men whose thoughts

were given up to a belief in wonders and apparitions.

This disposition of mind, altogether so peculiar to the Middle Ages, and

which, happily for mankind, has yielded to an improved state of

civilisation and the diffusion of popular instruction, accounts for the

origin and long duration of this extraordinary mental disorder. The good

sense of the people recoiled with horror and aversion from this heavy

plague, which, whenever malevolent persons wished to curse their

bitterest enemies and adversaries, was long after used as a malediction.

The indignation also that was felt by the people at large against the

immorality of the age, was proved by their ascribing this frightful

affliction to the inefficacy of baptism by unchaste priests, as if

innocent children were doomed to atone, in after-years, for this

desecration of the sacrament administered by unholy hands. We have

already mentioned what perils the priests in the Netherlands incurred

from this belief. They now, indeed, endeavoured to hasten their

reconciliation with the irritated, and, at that time, very degenerate

people, by exorcisms, which, with some, procured them greater respect

than ever, because they thus visibly restored thousands of those who were

affected. In general, however, there prevailed a want of confidence in

their efficacy, and then the sacred rites had as little power in

arresting the progress of this deeply-rooted malady as the prayers and

holy services subsequently had at the altars of the greatly-revered

martyr St. Vitus. We may therefore ascribe it to accident merely, and to

a certain aversion to this demoniacal disease, which seemed to lie beyond

the reach of human skill, that we meet with but few and imperfect notices

of the St. Vitus's dance in the second half of the fifteenth century. The

highly-coloured descriptions of the sixteenth century contradict the

notion that this mental plague had in any degree diminished in its

severity, and not a single fact is to be found which supports the opinion

that any one of the essential symptoms of the disease, not even excepting

the tympany, had disappeared, or that the disorder itself had become

milder in its attacks. The physicians never, as it seems, throughout the

whole of the fifteenth century, undertook the treatment of the Dancing

Mania, which, according to the prevailing notions, appertained

exclusively to the servants of the Church. Against demoniacal disorders

they had no remedies, and though some at first did promulgate the opinion

that the malady had its origin in natural circumstances, such as a hot

temperament, and other causes named in the phraseology of the schools,

yet these opinions were the less examined as it did not appear worth

while to divide with a jealous priesthood the care of a host of fanatical

vagabonds and beggars.

SECT. 5--PHYSICIANS

It was not until the beginning of the sixteenth century that the St.

Vitus's dance was made the subject of medical research, and stripped of

its unhallowed character as a work of demons. This was effected by

Paracelsus, that mighty but, as yet, scarcely comprehended reformer of

medicine, whose aim it was to withdraw diseases from the pale of

miraculous interpositions and saintly influences, and explain their

causes upon principles deduced from his knowledge of the human frame. "We

will not, however, admit that the saints have power to inflict diseases,

and that these ought to be named after them, although many there are who,

in their theology, lay great stress on this supposition, ascribing them

rather to God than to nature, which is but idle talk. We dislike such

nonsensical gossip as is not supported by symptoms, but only by faith--a

thing which is not human, whereon the gods themselves set no value."

Such were the words which Paracelsus addressed to his contemporaries, who

were, as yet, incapable of appreciating doctrines of this sort; for the

belief in enchantment still remained everywhere unshaken, and faith in

the world of spirits still held men's minds in so close a bondage that

thousands were, according to their own conviction, given up as a prey to

the devil; while at the command of religion, as well as of law, countless

piles were lighted, by the flames of which human society was to be

purified.

Paracelsus divides the St. Vitus's dance into three kinds. First, that

which arises from imagination (_Vitista_, _Chorea imaginativa_,

_aestimativa_), by which the original Dancing Plague is to be understood.

Secondly, that which arises from sensual desires, depending on the will

(_Chorea lasciva_). Thirdly, that which arises from corporeal causes

(Chorea naturalis, coacta), which, according to a strange notion of his

own, he explained by maintaining that in certain vessels which are

susceptible of an internal pruriency, and thence produce laughter, the

blood is set in commotion in consequence of an alteration in the vital

spirits, whereby involuntary fits of intoxicating joy and a propensity to

dance are occasioned. To this notion he was, no doubt, led from having

observed a milder form of St. Vitus's dance, not uncommon in his time,

which was accompanied by involuntary laughter; and which bore a

resemblance to the hysterical laughter of the moderns, except that it was

characterised by more pleasurable sensations and by an extravagant

propensity to dance. There was no howling, screaming, and jumping, as in

the severer form; neither was the disposition to dance by any means

insuperable. Patients thus affected, although they had not a complete

control over their understandings, yet were sufficiently self-possessed

during the attack to obey the directions which they received. There were

even some among them who did not dance at all, but only felt an

involuntary impulse to allay the internal sense of disquietude, which is

the usual forerunner of an attack of this kind, by laughter and quick

walking carried to the extent of producing fatigue. This disorder, so

different from the original type, evidently approximates to the modern

chorea; or, rather, is in perfect accordance with it, even to the less

essential symptom of laughter. A mitigation in the form of the Dancing

Mania had thus clearly taken place at the commencement of the sixteenth

century.

On the communication of the St. Vitus's dance by sympathy, Paracelsus, in

his peculiar language, expresses himself with great spirit, and shows a

profound knowledge of the nature of sensual impressions, which find their

way to the heart--the seat of joys and emotions--which overpower the

opposition of reason; and whilst "all other qualities and natures" are

subdued, incessantly impel the patient, in consequence of his original

compliance, and his all-conquering imagination, to imitate what he has

seen. On his treatment of the disease we cannot bestow any great praise,

but must be content with the remark that it was in conformity with the

notions of the age in which he lived. For the first kind, which often

originated in passionate excitement, he had a mental remedy, the efficacy

of which is not to be despised, if we estimate its value in connection

with the prevalent opinions of those times. The patient was to make an

image of himself in wax or resin, and by an effort of thought to

concentrate all his blasphemies and sins in it. "Without the

intervention of any other persons, to set his whole mind and thoughts

concerning these oaths in the image;" and when he had succeeded in this,

he was to burn the image, so that not a particle of it should remain. In

all this there was no mention made of St. Vitus, or any of the other

mediatory saints, which is accounted for by the circumstance that at this

time an open rebellion against the Romish Church had begun, and the

worship of saints was by many rejected as idolatrous. For the second

kind of St. Vitus's dance, arising from sensual irritation, with which

women were far more frequently affected than men, Paracelsus recommended

harsh treatment and strict fasting. He directed that the patients should

be deprived of their liberty; placed in solitary confinement, and made to

sit in an uncomfortable place, until their misery brought them to their

senses and to a feeling of penitence. He then permitted them gradually

to return to their accustomed habits. Severe corporal chastisement was

not omitted; but, on the other hand, angry resistance on the part of the

patient was to be sedulously avoided, on the ground that it might

increase his malady, or even destroy him: moreover, where it seemed

proper, Paracelsus allayed the excitement of the nerves by immersion in

cold water. On the treatment of the third kind we shall not here

enlarge. It was to be effected by all sorts of wonderful remedies,

composed of the quintessences; and it would require, to render it

intelligible, a more extended exposition of peculiar principles than

suits our present purpose.

SECT. 6--DECLINE AND TERMINATION OF THE DANCING PLAGUE

About this time the St. Vitus's dance began to decline, so that milder

forms of it appeared more frequently, while the severer cases became more

rare; and even in these, some of the important symptoms gradually

disappeared. Paracelsus makes no mention of the tympanites as taking

place after the attacks, although it may occasionally have occurred; and

Schenck von Graffenberg, a celebrated physician of the latter half of the

sixteenth century, speaks of this disease as having been frequent only in

the time of his forefathers; his descriptions, however, are applicable to

the whole of that century, and to the close of the fifteenth. The St.

Vitus's dance attacked people of all stations, especially those who led a

sedentary life, such as shoemakers and tailors; but even the most robust

peasants abandoned their labours in the fields, as if they were possessed

by evil spirits; and thus those affected were seen assembling

indiscriminately, from time to time, at certain appointed places, and,

unless prevented by the lookers-on, continuing to dance without

intermission, until their very last breath was expended. Their fury and

extravagance of demeanour so completely deprived them of their senses,

that many of them dashed their brains out against the walls and corners

of buildings, or rushed headlong into rapid rivers, where they found a

watery grave. Roaring and foaming as they were, the bystanders could

only succeed in restraining them by placing benches and chairs in their

way, so that, by the high leaps they were thus tempted to take, their

strength might be exhausted. As soon as this was the case, they fell as

it were lifeless to the ground, and, by very slow degrees, again

recovered their strength. Many there were who, even with all this

exertion, had not expended the violence of the tempest which raged within

them, but awoke with newly-revived powers, and again and again mixed with

the crowd of dancers, until at length the violent excitement of their

disordered nerves was allayed by the great involuntary exertion of their

limbs; and the mental disorder was calmed by the extreme exhaustion of

the body. Thus the attacks themselves were in these cases, as in their

nature they are in all nervous complaints, necessary crises of an inward

morbid condition which was transferred from the sensorium to the nerves

of motion, and, at an earlier period, to the abdominal plexus, where a

deep-seated derangement of the system was perceptible from the secretion

of flatus in the intestines.

The cure effected by these stormy attacks was in many cases so perfect,

that some patients returned to the factory or the plough as if nothing

had happened. Others, on the contrary, paid the penalty of their folly

by so total a loss of power, that they could not regain their former

health, even by the employment of the most strengthening remedies.

Medical men were astonished to observe that women in an advanced state of

pregnancy were capable of going through an attack of the disease without

the slightest injury to their offspring, which they protected merely by a

bandage passed round the waist. Cases of this kind were not infrequent

so late as Schenck's time. That patients should be violently affected by

music, and their paroxysms brought on and increased by it, is natural

with such nervous disorders, where deeper impressions are made through

the ear, which is the most intellectual of all the organs, than through

any of the other senses. On this account the magistrates hired musicians

for the purpose of carrying the St. Vitus's dancers so much the quicker

through the attacks, and directed that athletic men should be sent among

them in order to complete the exhaustion, which had been often observed

to produce a good effect. At the same time there was a prohibition

against wearing red garments, because, at the sight of this colour, those

affected became so furious that they flew at the persons who wore it, and

were so bent upon doing them an injury that they could with difficulty be

restrained. They frequently tore their own clothes whilst in the

paroxysm, and were guilty of other improprieties, so that the more

opulent employed confidential attendants to accompany them, and to take

care that they did no harm either to themselves or others. This

extraordinary disease was, however, so greatly mitigated in Schenck's

time, that the St. Vitus's dancers had long since ceased to stroll from

town to town; and that physician, like Paracelsus, makes no mention of

the tympanitic inflation of the bowels. Moreover, most of those affected

were only annually visited by attacks; and the occasion of them was so

manifestly referable to the prevailing notions of that period, that if

the unqualified belief in the supernatural agency of saints could have

been abolished, they would not have had any return of the complaint.

Throughout the whole of June, prior to the festival of St. John, patients

felt a disquietude and restlessness which they were unable to overcome.

They were dejected, timid, and anxious; wandered about in an unsettled

state, being tormented with twitching pains, which seized them suddenly

in different parts, and eagerly expected the eve of St. John's day, in

the confident hope that by dancing at the altars of this saint, or of St.

Vitus (for in the Breisgau aid was equally sought from both), they would

be freed from all their sufferings. This hope was not disappointed; and

they remained, for the rest of the year, exempt from any further attack,

after having thus, by dancing and raving for three hours, satisfied an

irresistible demand of nature. There were at that period two chapels in

the Breisgau visited by the St. Vitus's dancers; namely, the Chapel of

St. Vitus at Biessen, near Breisach, and that of St. John, near

Wasenweiler; and it is probable that in the south-west of Germany the

disease was still in existence in the seventeenth century.

However, it grew every year more rare, so that at the beginning of the

seventeenth century it was observed only occasionally in its ancient

form. Thus in the spring of the year 1623, G. Horst saw some women who

annually performed a pilgrimage to St. Vitus's chapel at Drefelhausen,

near Weissenstein, in the territory of Ulm, that they might wait for

their dancing fit there, in the same manner as those in the Breisgau did,

according to Schenck's account. They were not satisfied, however, with a

dance of three hours' duration, but continued day and night in a state of

mental aberration, like persons in an ecstasy, until they fell exhausted

to the ground; and when they came to themselves again they felt relieved

from a distressing uneasiness and painful sensation of weight in their

bodies, of which they had complained for several weeks prior to St.

Vitus's Day.

After this commotion they remained well for the whole year; and such was

their faith in the protecting power of the saint, that one of them had

visited this shrine at Drefelhausen more than twenty times, and another

had already kept the saint's day for the thirty-second time at this

sacred station.

The dancing fit itself was excited here, as it probably was in other

places, by music, from the effects of which the patients were thrown into

a state of convulsion. Many concurrent testimonies serve to show that

music generally contributed much to the continuance of the St. Vitus's

dance, originated and increased its paroxysms, and was sometimes the

cause of their mitigation. So early as the fourteenth century the swarms

of St. John's dancers were accompanied by minstrels playing upon noisy

instruments, who roused their morbid feelings; and it may readily be

supposed that by the performance of lively melodies, and the stimulating

effects which the shrill tones of fifes and trumpets would produce, a

paroxysm that was perhaps but slight in itself, might, in many cases, be

increased to the most outrageous fury, such as in later times was

purposely induced in order that the force of the disease might be

exhausted by the violence of its attack. Moreover, by means of

intoxicating music a kind of demoniacal festival for the rude multitude

was established, which had the effect of spreading this unhappy malady

wider and wider. Soft harmony was, however, employed to calm the

excitement of those affected, and it is mentioned as a character of the

tunes played with this view to the St. Vitus's dancers, that they

contained transitions from a quick to a slow measure, and passed

gradually from a high to a low key. It is to be regretted that no trace

of this music has reached out times, which is owing partly to the

disastrous events of the seventeenth century, and partly to the

circumstance that the disorder was looked upon as entirely national, and

only incidentally considered worthy of notice by foreign men of learning.

If the St. Vitus's dance was already on the decline at the commencement

of the seventeenth century, the subsequent events were altogether adverse

to its continuance. Wars carried on with animosity, and with various

success, for thirty years, shook the west of Europe; and although the

unspeakable calamities which they brought upon Germany, both during their

continuance and in their immediate consequences, were by no means

favourable to the advance of knowledge, yet, with the vehemence of a

purifying fire, they gradually effected the intellectual regeneration of

the Germans; superstition, in her ancient form, never again appeared, and

the belief in the dominion of spirits, which prevailed in the middle

ages, lost for ever its once formidable power.

CHAPTER II--THE DANCING MANIA IN ITALY

SECT. 1--TARANTISM

It was of the utmost advantage to the St. Vitus's dancers that they made

choice of a favourite patron saint; for, not to mention that people were

inclined to compare them to the possessed with evil spirits described in

the Bible, and thence to consider them as innocent victims to the power

of Satan, the name of their great intercessor recommended them to general

commiseration, and a magic boundary was thus set to every harsh feeling,

which might otherwise have proved hostile to their safety. Other

fanatics were not so fortunate, being often treated with the most

relentless cruelty, whenever the notions of the middle ages either

excused or commanded it as a religious duty. Thus, passing over the

innumerable instances of the burning of witches, who were, after all,

only labouring under a delusion, the Teutonic knights in Prussia not

unfrequently condemned those maniacs to the stake who imagined themselves

to be metamorphosed into wolves--an extraordinary species of insanity,

which, having existed in Greece before our era, spread, in process of

time over Europe, so that it was communicated not only to the Romaic, but

also to the German and Sarmatian nations, and descended from the ancients

as a legacy of affliction to posterity. In modern times Lycanthropy--such

was the name given to this infatuation--has vanished from the earth, but

it is nevertheless well worthy the consideration of the observer of human

aberrations, and a history of it by some writer who is equally well

acquainted with the middle ages as with antiquity is still a desideratum.

We leave it for the present without further notice, and turn to a malady

most extraordinary in all its phenomena, having a close connection with

the St. Vitus's dance, and, by a comparison of facts which are altogether

similar, affording us an instructive subject for contemplation. We

allude to the disease called Tarantism, which made its first appearance

in Apulia, and thence spread over the other provinces of Italy, where,

during some centuries, it prevailed as a great epidemic. In the present

times, it has vanished, or at least has lost altogether its original

importance, like the St. Vitus's dance, lycanthropy, and witchcraft.

SECT. 2--MOST ANCIENT TRACES--CAUSES

The learned Nicholas Perotti gives the earliest account of this strange

disorder. Nobody had the least doubt that it was caused by the bite of

the tarantula, a ground-spider common in Apulia: and the fear of this

insect was so general that its bite was in all probability much oftener

imagined, or the sting of some other kind of insect mistaken for it, than

actually received. The word tarantula is apparently the same as

terrantola, a name given by the Italians to the stellio of the old

Romans, which was a kind of lizard, said to be poisonous, and invested by

credulity with such extraordinary qualities, that, like the serpent of

the Mosaic account of the Creation, it personified, in the imaginations

of the vulgar, the notion of cunning, so that even the jurists designated

a cunning fraud by the appellation of a "stellionatus." Perotti

expressly assures us that this reptile was called by the Romans

tarantula; and since he himself, who was one of the most distinguished

authors of his time, strangely confounds spiders and lizards together, so

that he considers the Apulian tarantula, which he ranks among the class

of spiders, to have the same meaning as the kind of lizard called [Greek

text], it is the less extraordinary that the unlearned country people of

Apulia should confound the much-dreaded ground-spider with the fabulous

star-lizard, and appropriate to the one the name of the other. The

derivation of the word tarantula, from the city of Tarentum, or the river

Thara, in Apulia, on the banks of which this insect is said to have been

most frequently found, or, at least, its bite to have had the most

venomous effect, seems not to be supported by authority. So much for the

name of this famous spider, which, unless we are greatly mistaken, throws

no light whatever upon the nature of the disease in question. Naturalists

who, possessing a knowledge of the past, should not misapply their

talents by employing them in establishing the dry distinction of forms,

would find here much that calls for research, and their efforts would

clear up many a perplexing obscurity.

Perotti states that the tarantula--that is, the spider so called--was not

met with in Italy in former times, but that in his day it had become

common, especially in Apulia, as well as in some other districts. He

deserves, however, no great confidence as a naturalist, notwithstanding

his having delivered lectures in Bologna on medicine and other sciences.

He at least has neglected to prove his assertion, which is not borne out

by any analogous phenomenon observed in modern times with regard to the

history of the spider species. It is by no means to be admitted that the

tarantula did not make its appearance in Italy before the disease

ascribed to its bite became remarkable, even though tempests more violent

than those unexampled storms which arose at the time of the Black Death

in the middle of the fourteenth century had set the insect world in

motion; for the spider is little if at all susceptible of those cosmical

influences which at times multiply locusts and other winged insects to a

wonderful extent, and compel them to migrate.

The symptoms which Perotti enumerates as consequent on the bite of the

tarantula agree very exactly with those described by later writers. Those

who were bitten, generally fell into a state of melancholy, and appeared

to be stupefied, and scarcely in possession of their senses. This

condition was, in many cases, united with so great a sensibility to

music, that at the very first tones of their favourite melodies they

sprang up, shouting for joy, and danced on without intermission, until

they sank to the ground exhausted and almost lifeless. In others, the

disease did not take this cheerful turn. They wept constantly, and as if

pining away with some unsatisfied desire, spent their days in the

greatest misery and anxiety. Others, again, in morbid fits of love, cast

their longing looks on women, and instances of death are recorded, which

are said to have occurred under a paroxysm of either laughing or weeping.

The Black Death, and The Dancing Mania · 第 6 / 7 章