De Renzi, a distinguished physician of Naples, sent, in the year 1841, to the 'Raccoglitore Medico,' published in Fano, the following account of a Tarantism witnessed by Doctor Samuele Costa. Giuseppe Mastria, a peasant from a small village in the southern district of the province Terra d'Otranto, twenty years of age, of robust bodily constitution, while mowing grass, in June, 1840, felt a sudden pain on his right arm, near the insertion of the Deltoid muscle, and saw that he was bitten by a speckled spider, the Aranea Tarantula. The wound having become livid, enlarged and spread the pain over the arm and the back of the neck. He was seized with anxiety and with pressure on the Præcordia, inclination to vomit, faintness, cold skin, and weak pulse. After some time, the warmth of the body increased, and the pulse became stronger. The patient experienced great thirst, heavy breathing, restlessness, and the impossibility of standing on his legs. When, however, the Tarantella was played to him, he suddenly became convulsive, jumped out of the bed, and danced briskly for nearly two hours. Tired and profusely perspiring, he consequently slept quietly and uninterruptedly. After several repetitions of the music in the course of three days, he entirely recovered.[64]
Dr. Martinus Kähler, a Swedish physician, who visited Apulia in the year 1756, for the express purpose of investigating the Tarantism thoroughly, came to the conclusion that it is not caused by the Tarantula, but that it is a peculiar hypochondria with hysteria, to which the inhabitants of the island of Taranto are especially subject on account of their mode of living, and from their food consisting principally of green vegetables, oysters, and periwinkles. Be this as it may, the complaint is, according to medical opinion, curable by means of music and dancing.
Thomas Shaw, who visited the Barbary States about the year 1730, mentions the Boola-kaz, a venomous spider in the desert of Sahara, the bite of which is cured thus: "The patient lies sometimes buried all over, excepting his head, in the hot sands, or else in a pit dug and heated for the purpose, in order, no doubt, to obtain the like copious perspiration that is excited by dancing in those who are bitten by the Tarantula."[65]
The Tigretiya of Abyssinia is in some respects similar to the Tarantism; it is, however, not caused by the bite, or sting, of any animal. The Tigretiya has its name from occurring principally in the Abyssinian district called Tigré. It is a kind of melancholy, the first symptoms of which usually are a gradual wasting away of the attacked person. Music and dancing are used as the most effective remedies for healing the sufferer.
A strange illness of the natives of Madagascar is described by the Missionary W. Ellis as "an intermittent disorder, with periods of delirium, a species of hysteria readily infectious." The sufferers perambulate in groups, singing, dancing, and running, accompanied by their friends, who carry bottles of water for them, as they generally complain of thirst,—which is not surprising, considering the state of excitement to which they work themselves up. Their whims being encouraged by the people, must rather impede the beneficial result which they might derive from singing and dancing, as far as concerns the restoration to a sound state of health. Their morbid affection of the nervous system is, however, especially interesting if compared with a similar derangement in European countries during the Middle Ages, of which some account shall presently be given.
The exercise of dancing to the sound of cheerful music is universally known to be, under certain circumstances conducive to the preservation of health. Thus, the traveller, H. Salt, relates that the Negro slaves in Mozambique "assembled in the evening to dance, according to the usual practice, for keeping them in health."[66] The same means were formerly resorted to by slave-owners in America. Likewise, during a voyage to the Arctic Sea, it has been found useful to order the sailors occasionally to dance on deck to the music of a barrel-organ, to keep them in health and good spirits.
On the other hand, there are instances on record of music and dancing having nourished morbid feelings and extravagant notions. At all events, certain Terpsichorean performances of religious fanatics can only be thus regarded. The most extraordinary exhibitions of this kind among Christian sects occurred on the Continent during the Middle Ages, and are described in an interesting little book, by J. F. C. Hecker, entitled 'Die Tanzwuth, eine Volkskrankheit im Mittelalter; nach den Quellen für Aerzte und gebildete Nichtärzte bearbeitet,' (The Dancing Mania, an epidemic in the Middle Ages; compiled from original sources, for medical men and intelligent non-medical men. Berlin, 1832.) The author, a Doctor of Medicine, in Berlin, treats especially of the St. John's Dance and the St. Vitus's Dance, which, during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, were performed in Germany by perambulating fanatics who, in some respects, resembled certain Revivalists of our days. He carefully traces the origin of these morbid conceptions, the extravagant practices to which they led, and their gradual discontinuance during the seventeenth century. The persons afflicted with this nervous malady, men and women, wandered in troops from town to town and danced to the sound of musical instruments in the churches and streets. The authorities of some of the towns were of opinion that music and dancing alone could effectively cure this strange affection. They, therefore, hired musicians in order to bring on the dancing-fits the more rapidly; and they ordered strong, healthy men, to mix with the dancers with the object of compelling them to continue their violent exertions until they were quite exhausted,—a condition which was supposed to be a preliminary step to their restoration to health. Of the magistrates of Basle, for instance, it is recorded that in the sixteenth century they engaged some strong men to dance with a girl afflicted with the dancing mania, until she was recovered. One man substituted another, and this strange cure they continued about four weeks with scarcely any interruption, until the patient was exhausted and unable to stand on her legs. She was then carried to an hospital, where she completely regained her health.
The following miraculous occurrence, which is recorded in William of Malmesbury's 'Chronicle of the Kings of England' as having taken place in the year 1012, illustrates the fanaticism alluded to. The statement is by one of the poor sufferers:—
"I, Ethelbert, a sinner, even were I desirous of concealing the divine judgment which overtook me, yet the tremor of my limbs would betray me; wherefore I shall relate circumstantially how this happened, that all may know the heavy punishment due to disobedience. We were on the eve of our Lord's nativity, in a certain town of Saxony, in which was the church of Magnus the Martyr, and a priest named Robert had begun the first mass. I was in the church-yard with eighteen companions,—fifteen men and three women,—dancing and singing profane songs to such a degree that I interrupted the priest, and our voices resounded amid the sacred solemnity of the mass. Wherefore, having commanded us to be silent and not being attended to, he cursed us in the following words:—'May it please God and St. Magnus that you may remain singing in the same manner for a whole year!'—His words had their effect. The son of John the Priest seized his sister, who was singing with us, by the arm, and immediately tore it from the body; but not a drop of blood flowed out. She also remained a whole year with us dancing and singing. The rain fell not upon us; nor did cold, nor heat, nor hunger, nor thirst, nor fatigue assail us: we neither wore our clothes nor shoes, but we kept on singing as though we had been insane. First we sunk into the ground up to our knees; next to our thighs. A covering was at length, by the permission of God, built over us, to keep off the rain. When a year had elapsed, Herbert, bishop of the city of Cologne, released us from the tie wherewith our hands were bound, and reconciled us before the altar of St. Magnus. The daughter of the priest, with the other two women, died immediately; the rest of us slept three whole days and nights. Some died afterwards, and were famed for miracles; the remainder betray their punishment by the trembling of their limbs.
"This narrative was given to us by the Lord Peregrine, the successor of Herbert, in the year of our Lord 1013."