Whooping-Cough as a Sequel of other Maladies.

Although it is convenient to group whooping-cough among the infectious diseases, and although it is a clear case of a malady that comes in epidemics, yet its pathology is peculiar. It seems to be more a sequel of other diseases than an independent or primary affection. The whoop of the breath, from which it is named, is really proper to any convulsive cough of some infants or children. Adults, having undergone the change in the form and relative size of the larynx at puberty, have the convulsive cough usually without the whoop if they have it at all. After the successive influenzas of recent years (1889-92), many adults suffered from convulsive paroxysmal cough which was whooping-cough in all respects but the whoop, the choking fits, the blackness of the face, and the vomiting being, of course, all kept in subjection by the greater control of adults over their reflex actions.

It has been often remarked that the ordinary whooping-cough of children has followed epidemics of influenza, or widely prevalent catarrhs. Thus, Hillary records in July, 1753, an epidemic of whooping-cough, or “the fertussis,” all over the island of Barbados following the epidemic catarrh which was at a height in January of the same year. Whooping-cough had not been known in the island for many years past, “neither could I find by the strictest inquiry that I could make that any child or elder person did bring it hither[1243].” Willan, in his corresponding records of the succession of diseases at the Carey Street Dispensary, London, from 1796 to 1800, has the following:

“There was also among infants and children during the month of January [1796], an epidemic catarrh attended with a watery discharge from the eyes and nostrils, a frequent though slight cough, a shortness of breath, or rather panting, a flushing of the cheeks, great languor with disposition to sleep, and a quick small irregular pulse.... It was succeeded in February by the hooping cough.”

Measles, which is usually a catarrhal malady, has undoubtedly been followed by whooping-cough in many individual cases and in epidemics as a whole; and it may be that there is a closer association of whooping-cough with measles than with any other infectious disease. In the table on p. 647, the deaths by whooping cough in London from 1731 to 1830 have been reduced to ratios per cent. of the deaths from all causes, in a parallel column with the ratios of measles; it will be seen that the increase of both is equally remarkable towards the end of the table. But the Glasgow ratios abstracted by Watt show no such decided increase of whooping-cough from 1783 to 1812, side by side with the astonishing increase of measles; while his annual bills for the same period show that there were many deaths from whooping-cough in Glasgow for years before measles began to replace smallpox or to divide the mortality with it. The first high monthly mortalities from whooping-cough in Watt’s bills were from November, 1785, to the end of 1786; but there had been so little measles for twenty-four months before that epidemic began, that only one death from it is recorded all the time. Again, the great measles epidemic of 1808 in Glasgow was indeed followed by many deaths from whooping-cough in 1809; but, while the height of the measles epidemic was in May and June, 1808, it was not until April, 1809, that whooping-cough began to cause many deaths.

Glasgow: Deaths by measles and whooping-cough.

Whooping-cough Measles
1807
Nov. 18 2
Dec. 18 1
1808
Jan. 10 2
Feb. 20 2
March 12 5
April 18 71
May 9 259
June 9 260
July 2 118
Aug. 2 32
Sept. 2 22
Oct. 2 10
Nov. 4 4
Dec. 2 2
1809
Jan. 7 4
Feb. 6 4
March 7 2
April 16 1
May 22 4
June 25 4
July 22 6
Aug. 15 2
Sept. 35 4
Oct. 23 1
Nov. 36 2
Dec. 45 10
1810
Jan. 33 4
Feb. 32 4
March 19 3

Whatever correspondence or relation there may be between measles and whooping-cough, (and it has been remarked by many in the ordinary way of experience), it eludes the method of statistics[1244]. As for the catarrhs of infants and children other than those which are part of the actual attack of measles or influenza, they are so common from year to year, and even from month to month, (perhaps coincident with teething, or with chicken-pox or other slight febrile disturbance), that a statistical study of whooping-cough in relation to them could lead only to an empirical, and possibly bewildering, result. It may be more useful to consider the antecedent probability of some such relationship, arising out of the pathology of the convulsive cough.

Whooping-cough is not only a paroxysmal cough coming on in convulsive fits at intervals, but the paroxysms, as they recur for many weeks, or, as they say in Japan, “for a hundred days,” have none of the obvious occasions of coughing, such as catarrh of the mucous membrane, congestion of the lungs from hot or close air, irritation of the bronchial tubes from dusty particles or vapours, or the presence of tubercles in the substance of the lungs. Such irritants can, indeed, produce whooping-cough, as in the following instance of “artificial chincough” related by Watt:

Two children having quarelled in their play, one of them thrust a handful of sawdust into the mouth of the other. Some of the sawdust passed into the windpipe. After a short time the child began to have violent convulsive fits of coughing, in which the whoop was very distinctly formed. Expectoration in the course of a few hours removed all the irritation, and the coughing thereupon ceased.

But in natural or ordinary whooping-cough there is no mechanical irritation, there is nothing to cough up, the reflex action, violent and paroxysmal though it be, has apparently no motive. I have, in another work, offered an original explanation of the paroxysmal cough of children as being the deferred reaction, the postponed liability, the stored-up memory, of some past catarrhal or otherwise irritated state of the respiratory organs, to which I refer without attempting to summarize it here[1245].

The epidemicity of whooping-cough presents no more difficulty if the malady be viewed as the sequel or dregs of something else than if it be taken for an independent primary affection. The many infants and children that suffer from it together may have equally been suffering together from one or other of the various things of which it is assumed to be the sequel—influenza, measles, sore-throat, the bronchitis of rickets, simple bronchial catarrh of the winter, simple coryza. Again, it may be a secondary or residual affection with many, but a communicable disease to others. Much of the whooping-cough of an epidemic is believed by good authorities, such as Bouchut and Struges[1246], to be simply mimetic, or a habit of coughing acquired by hearing other children coughing in a particular way, just as chorea is sometimes acquired in schools or hospital-wards through the mere spectacle of it. But it may be doubted whether much of the whooping-cough which swells the bills of mortality is acquired in that way. The children that die of it are probably most of them such as had only escaped dying of the measles or other infective disease, or of the non-specific catarrh, which had preceded the whooping-cough.

CHAPTER VII.

SCARLATINA AND DIPHTHERIA.

Scarlatina and diphtheria have to be taken together in a historical work for the reason that certain important epidemics of the 18th century, both in Britain and in the American colonies, which were indeed the first of the kind in modern English experience, cannot now be placed definitely under the one head or the other, nor divided between the two. It may be that this ambiguity lies actually in the complex or undifferentiated nature of the throat-distemper at that time, or that it arises out of the contemporary manner of making and recording observations upon the prevalent maladies of seasons. The older or Hippocratic method was not unlike the mason’s rule of lead, said to have been in use in the island of Lesbos for measuring uneven stones; it took account of gradations, modifications, affinities, being careless of symmetry, of definitions or clean-cut nosological ideas, or the dividing lines of a classification. Sydenham was the great English exponent of this method; but, in one of his more discursive passages, he sketched out another method of describing diseases as if they were species or natural kinds[1247]. He did no more than indicate this analogy, at the same time declining to put it in practice; so that Sauvages correctly described his great Nosology of 1763 as being constructed “juxta Sydenhami mentem et Botanicorum ordinem.” The identification of scarlatina in its modern sense, including scarlatina simplex and scarlatina anginosa, falls really in the time of the nosologies in the generation following the work of Sauvages, although both the name and definition in the modern sense were used in England as early as 1749. On the other hand, the name and definition of diphtheria were little known until about the years 1856-59, when the form of throat-distemper which is now quite definitely joined to that name became suddenly common, having been almost unheard of for at least two generations before. The only English writer who has attempted to unravel the accounts of the 18th century epidemics of throat-disease was Dr Willan in his unfinished work on Cutaneous Diseases, 1808; he swept the whole of those epidemic types into the species of scarlatina, to which also he reduced the great Spanish epidemics of “garrotillo” in the 16th and 17th centuries. Whether he would have used so summary a method if he had seen the sudden return of diphtheria in 1856, may well be doubted; at all events the German writers who brought their erudition to bear upon the question of identity some thirty years ago have discovered true diphtheria among the 18th century throat-distempers, although no two of them agree as to which of these should be called diphtheria and which scarlatina anginosa. It is one advantage of a historical method that the complexities of things may be stated just as they are, with due criticism, naturally, of the matters of fact and of the relative credit of observers. The result is more an impression than a logical conclusion,—an impression which will take a colour from the pre-existing views or theoretical preferences of individual readers on such points as fixity of type or the incompetence of the earlier observers. An author who has puzzled over these difficulties in detail can hardly help having a tolerably definite impression of the real state of the case; and I do not seek to conceal mine, namely, that scarlatina anginosa and diphtheria were not in nature so sharply differentiated in the 18th century as they have been since 1856.

The significant name of pestis gutturuosa or plague of the throat is given by the St Albans chronicler to the great pestilence, or some part of it, in 1315-16, during one of the worst periods of famine and murrain in the whole English history. But those two words being all that we have to base upon, there is no use speculating whether the disease was scarlatina anginosa, or diphtheria, or something different from either. This is perhaps the only reference to an epidemic throat-distemper in England for several centuries in which bubo-plague was the grand infection. In the popular medical handbooks of the Tudor period one naturally looks for scarlatina among the diseases of children. In Elyot’s Castel of Health (1541), “the purpyles” is mentioned among children’s maladies in company with smallpox and measles, and the same name is in the London bills of mortality from their beginning in 1629, although it does not appear whether the deaths assigned to it were of children or adults. Perhaps the most common use of purples in the 17th and 18th centuries was for a form of childbed fever often attended with discoloured miliary vesicles. In Scotland, according to Sibbald (1684), “the fevers called purple” were any fevers, even measles or smallpox, in which livid or dark spots occurred as an occasional thing. Unless a few scarlatinal deaths are included under “purples” in the London bills (they could not have been many in any case), there is no other evidence of their existence until 1703, when the entry of scarlet fever appears for the first time, with seven deaths to it in the year. The heading remains in the bills until 1730 (the deaths never more than one figure), after which it is merged with fevers in general. The same indications of the insignificance of scarlatina among the causes of death in the 17th century may be got from the medical writers in London.

Sydenham introduced into the third edition (1675) of his Observationes Medicae a short chapter entitled “Febris Scarlatina[1248].” It was a disease that might occur at any time of the year, but occurred mostly in the end of summer, sometimes infesting whole families, the children more than the elders. It began with a rigor, as other fevers did, the malaise being but slight. Then the whole skin became interspersed with small red spots, more numerous, broader, redder and less uniform than in measles; they persisted for two or three days and then vanished, and, as the cuticle returned to its natural state, there were successive desquamations of fine branny scales, which he compares elsewhere to those following the measles of 1670. Sydenham took it to be a moderate effervescence of the blood from the heat of the summer just over, or from some such excitement. It was a mild affair, not calling for blood-letting nor cardiac remedies, and requiring no other regimen than abstinence from flesh and spirituous liquors, and that the patient should keep in doors, but not all day in bed. The disease, he says, amounted to hardly more than a name (hoc morbi nomen, vix enim altius assurgit); but it appears that it was sometimes fatal; and in those cases Sydenham was inclined, after his wont, to blame the fussiness of the medical attendant (nimia medici diligentia). If convulsions or coma preceded the eruption, a large epispastic should be applied to the back of the neck and paregoric administered. Whether Sydenham was describing true scarlatina simplex, or a “scarlatiniform variety of contagious roseola,” it is from him that we derive the name of scarlatina by continuous usage to the present time[1249].

A few years after Sydenham had thus described scarlatina, Sir Robert Sibbald, physician and naturalist of Edinburgh, professed to have discovered the same as a new species of disease. “Just as the luxury of men,” he says, “increases every day, so there grow up new diseases, if not unknown to former generations, yet untreated of by them. Nor is this surprising, since new depravations of the humours arise from unwonted diets and from various mixtures of the same. Among the many diseases which owe their origin to this age, there has been most recently (nuperrime) observed a fever which is called Scarlatina, from the carmine colour (named by our people in the vernacular scarlet) with which almost the whole skin is tinged. Of this disease the observations are not so many that an accurate theory can be delivered or a method of cure constructed.” He proceeds to append one case—a child of eight, daughter of one of the senators of the College of Justice, who fell ill with redness of the face (thought at first to indicate smallpox coming on), became delirious and restless, then had the redness all over, which disappeared and left the child well about the fifth day. He had heard from some of his colleagues that the scarlet rash was sometimes interspersed with vesicles—perhaps the miliaria so much in evidence a generation or two later. In adults, Sibbald had seen the cuticle fall from nearly the whole body. But extremely few (paucissimi) had died of this fever. Like Sydenham, he omits to mention sore-throat and dropsy[1250].

Another 17th century reference is by Morton, who practised in London, in Newgate Street, from about 1667 to the end of the century, and was frequently called to consult with apothecaries or other physicians in cases of sickness in middle-class families. In the second volume of his Pyretologia, published in 1694, he has a chapter “De Morbillis et Febre Scarlatina,” and a separate chapter “De Febre Scarlatina.” His position towards scarlet fever is peculiar. He uses the name, he says, in deference to the common consent of physicians, but, for his own part, he thinks scarlatina different from measles only in the form of the rash, so-called scarlatina being confluent measles just as there is a confluent smallpox. Except in that sense he sees no reason for retaining scarlatina in the catalogue of diseases. Both arise from the same cause, both have hacking cough, heaviness of the brain, sneezing, diarrhoea; the single difference is that in scarlatina the rash is continuous. He gives eleven cases, most of which are clearly enough cases of measles; but the fourth case, that of his own daughter, Marcia, aged seven, in 1689, “in quo febris dicta Scarlatina, tempore praesertim aestivo, quadantenus publice grassabatur,” had no cough, nor redness of the eyes, nor diarrhoea, nor any other catarrhal symptoms (such as her sister had in 1685), but on the fourth day a continuous scarlet rash over the whole skin, which ended, not in a desquamation of fine branny scales, but in parchment-like peeling. The eleventh instance is complex enough to show that Morton had some reason, at that early stage in the history of scarlatina, for hesitating to make the disease a distinct type under a name of its own.

About midsummer, 1689, he was called to the house of his friend Mr Hook, merchant, of Pye Alley, Fenchurch Street, and found the whole household, three young girls, one little boy, and their aunt Mrs Barnardiston, a matron aged seventy, all suffering from the effects of some infection of as deleterious a kind as synochus, the symptoms being hacking cough, coma, delirium, and other signs of malignity. But on the 4th, 5th, or 6th day, each had a scarlatinal rash all over the skin, which lasted until the 7th, 8th or 10th day. Two of the girls, and the boy, had “on the 4th or 5th day of the efflorescence” extensive parotid swellings, difficulty of swallowing, vibrating arteries, and other urgent symptoms, for which they were blooded. The parotid abscesses burst, and discharged a copious acrid, corrosive pus by the nostrils, ears and throat, for the space of thirty days, during which the patients gradually got well. The third girl had, on the 3rd or 4th day of the rash, a painful swelling in the left armpit, not unlike a bubo; she also was blooded, and recovered completely, the swelling having broken and discharged pus for many days. The case of the aunt, aged seventy, was somewhat different; she neglected her medicines, acquired a “carcinoma” or slough over the pubes, which became gangrenous, recovered with difficulty, and lived three years longer.

Morton calls these cases a veritable pestis or plague; and he goes on in the same context to say: “what swellings have I seen of the uvula, fauces, nares, and how protracted! At other times, what turgid lips, covered with sordid crusts and ulcerated!”—instancing the child of Mr Blaney, who had these symptoms long after the efflorescence, together with fever and coma[1251]. These cases, all given under the eleventh history illustrating the chapter on Scarlatina, are perhaps not different from those which Huxham, next in order, described in 1735, but not under the same name. It would appear from a reference in Hamilton’s essay on Miliary Fever, published in 1710, that scarlet fever continued to be seen in London: “If, in a scarlet fever, miliary pustules should arise, dying away with a red colour, they promise safety[1252].”

Several of the annalists of epidemic constitutions agree as to fatal anginas in the year 1727, with an exanthem of the miliary kind. Wintringham, of York, mentions the two things apart—in one place a putrid fever with cutaneous eruptions of a fuscous colour, sometimes dry, sometimes filled with a clear serum; in another place, “about this time many anginas were prevalent, attended with extreme suffocation, which proved fatal unless they were speedily relieved.” He mentions the same putrid fever in the summer of 1728, and again anginae. Hillary, who was then at Ripon, gives the same fever in 1727 (or perhaps in 1726) with miliary eruption, and chronicles “a fatal suffocative quinsey” in the winter of 1727-28, of which many died, especially those that had been reduced by the fever. Huxham’s account of an epidemic malady of the throat and neck at Plymouth in January and February, 1728, might relate to mumps (which Hillary and an Edinburgh observer describe clearly enough under 1731); and under October, 1728, he describes an erysipelatous and petechial fever, often relieved by an eruption of red miliary vesicles accompanied by sweats, the same miliary fever being again common in the autumn of 1729. This association of “putrid” fever with sore-throat became still more notable in the period 1750-60.

These anginas of 1727-28 are unimportant compared with the outbreak a few years later. We hear first from Edinburgh in June, 1733, of scarlet fever and sore throats frequent in several parts of the country near the city, and continuing all through the summer into the winter and spring of 1734[1253]. Then in April, 1734, begins a series of important notes by Huxham at Plymouth[1254]. In that month, he says, there began a certain anginose fever (“for so I shall call it”), raging more and more every day. It mostly affected children and young people. Among other symptoms were vomiting and diarrhoea, pain and swelling of the fauces, languor, anxiety, delirium or stupor, a favourable issue being attended with sweats and red pustules. In May it was raging worse, with more severe angina and most troublesome “aphthae.” In June it was now miliary-pustular, and not seldom erysipelatous, while the throat was “less oppressed.” On the 6th or 7th day the cuticle looked rough and broken as if thickly sprinkled with bran; at length the whole desquamated—sometimes the entire skin of the sole of the foot coming off. The more copious the rash, the better the chance for life. It was contagious, affecting several in the same house. In July it cut off several within six days of the onset. Huxham’s references to this putrid miliary fever in Devon and Cornwall go on for some time, without farther mention of the throat complication. In April, 1735, “raro nunc adest strangulans faucium dolor, paucaeque nunc erumpunt pustulae.” But, in September, 1736, he enters again, “febres miliares, scarlatinae, pustulosae,” often attended with swelling of the parotid glands and of the fauces, and with profuse sweats.

The most important scene of fatal angina with rash in the same period (1734-35) was the North American colonies. Before coming to that remarkable outburst, I shall mention one curious coincident outbreak in the island of Barbados. Dr Warren, who occupies his pen chiefly with yellow fever, says[1255]: “In this space of time [1734 to 1738], there arose here a few other diseases, that were really epidemical and of the contagious kind too, few escaping them in families where they had once got a footing. The first was an obstinate and ill-favour’d erysipelatous quinsey. The second a very anomalous scarlet fever, in which almost all the skin, even of the hands and feet, peeled off,”—just as Huxham described for Devonshire.

It is beyond our purpose to include the evidence from foreign countries; but it may be noted in this context that Le Cat, in tracing the antecedents of the great Rouen fever in his paper of 1754, refers to many fatal anginas in that city about twenty years before[1256]. Thus we find about the year 1735 evidence of the beginning of a remarkable “constitution” of throat-disease both in the old world and in the new. But the facts in America stand out with peculiar prominence, and shall be given on the threshold of the subject as fully as possible.