THE BLACK PLAGUE.
The Black Plague of the fourteenth century was more destructive even than the bubonic pest of the sixth century, and all other epidemics observed up to the present day. In the space of four years more than twenty five millions of human beings perished—one-half the population of the world. Like all other pestilences, it came from the Orient—from India, and perhaps from China. Europe was invaded from east to west, from south to north. After Constantinople, all the islands and shores of the Mediterranean were attacked, and successively became so many foci of disease from which the pestilence radiated inland. Constantinople lost two-thirds of its population. Cyprus and Cairo counted 15,000 deaths. Florence paid an awful tribute to the disease, so great being the mortality that the epidemic has often been called Peste de Florence; “100,000 persons perished,” says Boccaccio. Venice lost 20,000 victims, Naples 60,000, Sicily 53,000, and Genoa 40,000, while in Rome the dead were innumerable.
In Spain, Germany, England, Poland, and Russia the malady was as fatal as in Italy. At London they buried 100,000 persons in the cemeteries. It was the same in France. Avignon lost 150,000 citizens in seven months, among whom was the beautiful Laura de Noves, immortalized by Petrarch, who expired from the plague in 1348, aged forty-one years. At Marseilles 56,000 people died in one month; at Montpellier three quarters of the population, including all the physicians, went down in the epidemic. Narbonne had 30,000 deaths and Strasbourg 16,000 in the first year of the outbreak. Paris was not spared; the Chronique de Saint Denis informs us that “in the year of Grace 1348, commenced the aforesaid mortality in the Realms of France, the same lasting about a year and a half, increasing more and more until Paris lost each day 800 inhabitants; so that the number who died there amounted to more than 500,000 people, while in the town of Saint Denis the number reached 16,000.[13]
Among the victims were Jeanne de Bourgogne, wife of Philip VI.; Jeanne II., Queen of Navarre, grandchild of Philip the Beautiful. In Spain, died Alphonse XI. of Castille. “Happily,” says the Chronicle, “during the years following the plague the fecundity of women was prodigious—as though nature desired to repair the ravages wrought by death.” The symptoms and history of this plague have been described by several ocular witnesses, among others Guy de Chauliac, the celebrated surgeon and professor at Montpellier, who has left the following recital in quaint old French:
“The disease was such that one never before saw a like mortality. It appeared in Avignon in the year of our Saviour 1348, in the sixth year of the Pontificate of Clement VI., in whose service I entered, thanks to his Grace.
“Not to displease you, I shall briefly narrate for your edification the advent of the disease.
“It commenced—the aforesaid mortality—in January and lasted for the space of seven months.
“The disease was of two kinds. The first type lasted two months, with a continued fever and spitting of blood. This variety killed in three days, however.
“The second type of the disease, prevailing during the epidemic time, also had a continued fever, with apostumes and carbuncles at the external parts, principally on the axilla and in the groin; all such attacked usually died in five days.
“The malady was so contagious, especially that form in which blood-spitting was noticed, that one not only caught it from sojourning with the sick, but also, it sometimes seemed, from looking at the disease, so that men died without their servants and were buried without priests.
“The father visited not his son, nor the son his father. Charity was dead and hope disappeared.
“I call the epidemic great, inasmuch as it conquered all the earth.
“For the pestilence commenced at the Orient, and cast its fangs against all the world, passing through Paris towards the West.
“It was so destructive that it left only a quarter of the population of mankind behind.
“It was a shame and disgrace to medicine, as many doctors dared not visit the sick through fear of becoming infected; and those who visited the sick made few cures and fewer fees, for the sick all died save a few. Not many having buboes escaped death.
“For preservation, there was no better remedy than to fly from the infection, to purge one’s self with aloe pills, to diminish the blood by phlebotomy, to purify the air with fire, to comfort the heart with cordials and apples and other things of good odor; to console the humors with Armenian bole and resist dry rot by the use of acid things. For the cure of the plague we used bleedings and evacuations, electuaries, syrups and cordials, and the external apostumes or swellings were poulticed with boiled figs and onions mixed with oil and butter; the buboes were afterwards opened and treated by the usual cures for ulcers.
“Carbuncles were leeched, scarified and cauterized.
“I, to avoid infamy, dared not absent myself from the care of the sick, but lived in continual fear, preserving myself as long as possible by the before-mentioned remedies.
“Nevertheless, towards the end of the epidemic, I fell into a fever, which continued with an aposthume in the groin, and was ill for nigh on six weeks, being in such danger that all my companions believed I should die; nevertheless, the bubo being poulticed and treated as I have above indicated, I recovered, thanks be to the will of God.”
According to the records of that time, many persons died the first day of their illness. These bad cases were announced by a violent fever, with cephalgia, vertigo, drowsiness, incoherency in ideas, and loss of memory; the tongue and palate were black and browned, exhaling an almost insupportable fetidity. Others were attacked by violent inflammation of the lungs, with hemorrhage; also gangrene, which manifested itself in black spots all over the body; if, to the contrary, the body was covered by abscesses, the patients seemed to have some chance for recovery.
Medicines were powerless, all remedies seeming to be useless. The disease attacked rich and poor indiscriminately; it overpowered the robust and debilitated; the young and the old were its victims. On the first symptom the patients fell into a profound melancholy and seemed to abandon all hope of recovery. This moral prostration aggravated their physical condition, and mental depression hastened the time of death. The fear of contagion was so great that but few persons attended the sick.
The clergy, encouraged by the Pope, visited the bedsides of the dying who bequeathed all their wealth to the Church. The plague was considered on all sides as a punishment inflicted by God, and it was this idea that induced armies of penitents to assemble on the public streets to do penance for their sins. Men and women went half naked along the highways flagellating each other with whips, and, growing desperate with the fall of night, they committed scandalous crimes. In certain places the Jews were accused of being the authors of the plague by poisoning the wells; hence the Hebrews were persecuted, sometimes burned alive by the fanatical sects known as Flagellants, Begardes and Turlupins, who were encouraged in their acts of violence by the priests, notwithstanding the intervention of Clement VI.
Physicians were not only convinced of the contagious nature of the disease, but also believed that it could be transmitted by look and word of mouth. Such doctors obliged their patients to cover their eyes and mouth with a piece of cloth whenever the priest or physician visited the bedside. “Cum igitur medicus vel sacerdos, vel amicus aliquem infirmum visitare voluerit, moneat et introducat aegrum suos claudere et linteamine operire.”
Guillaume de Machant, poet and valet de chambre of Philip the Beautiful, mentions this fact in one of his poems, i. e.:
“They did not dare, in the open air
To even speak by stealth,
Lest each one’s breath might carry death
By poisoning the other’s health.”
And, in the preface of the “Decameron,” Boccaccio remarks in his turn, “The plague communicated direct, as fire to combustible matter. They were often attacked from simply touching the sick, indeed it was not even necessary to touch them. The danger was the same when you listened to their words or even if they gazed at you.”
One thing is certain, that is, that those who nursed the patients surely contracted the disease.
All the authorities of the Middle Ages concur in their statements as to the contagious nature of the plague. The rules and regulations enforced against the afflicted were barbarous and inhuman. “Persons sick and well, of one family, when the pest developed,” says Black,[14] “were held, without distinction, in close confinement in their home, while on the house door a red cross was traced, bearing the sad and desperate epitaph, ‘Dieu ayez pitie de nous!’ No one was permitted to leave or enter the plague-stricken house save the physician and nurse, or other persons who might be authorized by the Government. The doors of such dwellings were guarded and kept closed until such a time as the imprisoned had all died or recovered their health.”
We can well judge of the terror inspired by the pestilence by the precautions taken by the physicians in attendance on the sick. In his treatise on the plague Mauget describes the costume worn by those who approached the bedsides of patients:
“The costumes worn, says he, “were of Levant morocco, the mask having crystal eyes and a long nose filled with subtile perfumes. This nose was in the form of a snout, with the openings one on each side; these openings served for respiratory passages and were well filled at the anterior portion with drugs, so that at each breath they contained a medicated air. Under a cloak the doctor also wore buskins made of morocco; closely sewed breeches were attached to the bottines above the ankle; the shirt, the hat and gloves were also of soft morocco.”
Thus accoutered the doctor resembled a modern diver clad in a bathing suit of leather.
In order not to alarm the population all public references to funerals were forbidden. In the ordinances of magistrates of Paris, passed September 13, 1553, we read, “And likewise be it declared that the aforesaid Chamber forbids by statute all criers of funerals and wines, and all others, no matter what be their state or condition, to render for sale at any church, house, doorway or gate of this city, or on the streets thereof, any black cloth or mourning stuffs such as are used for mortuary purposes, under penalty of forfeiture of their licenses and property, and confiscation of all goods, especially of the aforesaid black cloths.”
Let it be well understood that the great epidemics of plague in the sixth and twelfth centuries were of a nature to terrify ignorant populations. The narratives of the historians of that epoch show them to be imbued with the superstitious ideas of antiquity. This attack of an invisible enemy whose blows fell right and left paralyzed and terrified every one. “In the midst of this orgie of death,” remarks Anglada, “the thought of self-preservation absorbed every other sentiment. Dominated by this selfish instinct the human mind shamelessly displayed its cowardice, egotism and superstition. Social ties were rudely sundered, the affections of the heart laid aside. The sick were deserted by their relatives; all flew with horror from the plague-breathing air and contact with the dreadful disease. The corpses of the victims of the epidemic abandoned without sepulture exhaled a horrible putrid odor, and became the starting point of new infectious centres. The worse disorder overthrew all conditions of existence. Human passion raged uncontrolled; the voice of authority was no longer respected; the wheels of civilization ceased to revolve.”
As to the other epidemics of the plague that periodically devastated France from the fourteenth to the eighteenth century we possess but few historical documents. We have had in our hands an opuscule by Pierre Sordes, who was attacked by the plague in 1587, at the age of twenty, who afterward wrote a treatise on the epidemic, which work he dedicated to Cardinal de Sourdis, the Archbishop of Aquitaine.
The author in this monograph endeavors to explain the remedies then in use for preservation against the infection of the disease. “Avoid all fatigue, anger, intemperance, too much association with women, as the act ennervates our forces and enfeebles our spirits. One should clothe himself in the wools of Auvergne and the camulets of Escot.” Moreover, says our author, “one should perfume his clothes with laurel, rosemary, serpolet, marjolane, sage, fennel, sweetbriar, myrrh, and frankincense.” When the room was to be disinfected “one should use fumigations of good dry hay. One should not go out early without eating and taking a drink. One should close the ears with a little cotton scented with musk and hold in his mouth a clove or piece of angelica root. One should hold in his hand a piece of sponge saturated in vinegar, which should be smelled frequently. One should wear upon his stomach an acorn filled with quicksilver and a small pouch containing arsenic. Finally, one should take twice a week a pill composed of aloes, myrrh, and saffron.”
Notwithstanding all these precautions, Pierre Sordes was attacked by the plague; having a buboe in the left groin, which caused him acute pain and to which he applied “un emplastre de diachyllum cum gummis” and afterwards a blister. Not being able to obtain resolution, feeling his strength undermined and perceiving his entire body “covered with black lumps and spots, fatal prognostic signs to all who are found thus marked, I called for a surgeon, the last one left alive, and he brought his cautery and with it pierced through the apostume. From then the fever disappeared little by little, and I was perfectly cured eight days after the application of the aforesaid cautery, with the exception that, reading in a draught Bartas “Treatise on the Plague,” I brought on another attack of fever that well nigh carried me off.
“This is my experience at Figeac in the year 1587, when the plague destroyed 2500 people, with all the miseries and calamities that can be read in Greek and Roman histories.”