| 1890 | 1891 | ||||||
| Cumberland | ·35 | Rutland | 1·36 | ||||
| North Wales | ·28 | Lincolnshire | 1·19 | ||||
| Herefordshire | ·28 | North Wales | 1·09 | ||||
| Salop | ·28 | Westmoreland | 1·02 | ||||
| Wilts | ·28 | Monmouth | 1·00 | ||||
| Somerset | ·26 | E. Riding Yorks | ·98 | ||||
| Dorset | ·25 | Herefordshire | ·98 | ||||
| Bucks | ·25 | Northamptonshire | ·95 | ||||
In London the entry of influenza is in the weekly bills of mortality throughout the whole period, with the exception of a few weeks; but the deaths were often reduced to unity, and there was perhaps only one occasion, besides the four great outbursts, namely the months of March and April, 1893, when cases were so numerous or so close together in households or neighbourhoods as to constitute a minor epidemic.
The type of the influenza of 1890-93 was not quite the same as on the last historical occasions. When it was announced as approaching from the Continent, everyone looked for “influenza colds”; but the catarrhal symptoms, although not wanting, were soon found to be unimportant beside the nameless misery, prostration and ensuing weakness. Some, indeed, contended that the disease was not influenza but dengue, so pronounced were the symptoms of break-bone fever[749]. Many cases had a decided aguish or intermittent character. The name of ague itself was once more heard in newspaper paragraphs, and more freely used in private talk; but, as we have long ceased to write of epidemic agues, equally as of marsh intermittents, in this country, it is not probable that there will remain any record of agues in Britain accompanying the influenzas of the years 1890-94. On the other hand the complications and after-effects of our latest influenza, more especially as affecting the nervous system, have been very fully studied[750].
That which chiefly distinguishes the influenza of the end of the 19th century from all other invasions of the disease is the revival of the epidemic in three successive seasons, the first recurrence having been more fatal than the original outbreak, and the second recurrence more fatal (in London at least) than the first. The closest scrutiny of the old records, including the series of weekly bills of mortality issued by the Parish Clerks of London for nearly two hundred years, discovers no such recurrences of influenza on the great scale in successive seasons. It is true that several of the old influenzas came in the midst of sickly periods of two or more years’ duration, such as the years 1557-58, 1580-82, 1657-59, 1678-80, 1727-29 and 1780-85. But in those periods the bulk of the sickness was aguish, the somewhat definite episodes of catarrhal fever having been distinguished from the epidemic agues by Willis in 1658, by Sydenham in 1679, by several in 1729, and by Baker, among others, in 1782. It is probable, indeed, that there were two strictly catarrhal epidemics in successive years in the periods 1657-59 and 1727-29, just as we know that, in New England, there was a catarrhal epidemic in the autumn of 1789 and an equally severe influenza, less catarrhal in type, in the spring of 1790[751]. But history does not appear to supply a parallel case to the four successive influenzas in the period 1889-94, unless we count the seasonal epidemic agues of former “constitutions” as equivalent to influenzas for the purpose of making out a series.
The Theory of Influenza.
Influenza is not an infection which lends itself to a simple theory of its nature or a neat formula of its cause. All that one can do is to indicate the direction in which the truth lies. Something broad, comprehensive, steady from age to age, telluric if not cosmic, must be sought for. Some have thought that the legendary or representative universal sickness at the siege of Troy was influenza, because it began upon the horses and dogs, as so many historical influenzas have done. But it will be sufficient to show that influenza was the same in the Middle Ages as now; for what circumstances make a broader contrast than medieval and modern? The first writer in England to mention influenza—of course not under that name—was a dean of St Paul’s in the reign of Henry II., Radulphus de Diceto[752]. He is narrating the journey to Rome of the archbishop-elect of Canterbury: his election in England was in June, 1173, he had got as far as Placentia by Christmas, whence he turned aside to Genoa, and at length reached Rome, to have his election confirmed by the pope in the nones of April, 1174. It is in the midst of this account of the archbishop’s journey, that reference is made to an influenza, otherwise known, from German and Italian chronicles, to have happened in December, 1173: “In those days the whole world was infected by a nebulous corruption of the air, causing catarrh of the stomach and a general cough, to the detriment of all and the death of many”—universus orbis infectus ex aeris nebulosa corruptione. What kind of infection can that be which has befallen men on both sides of the Alps within the same short time in the 12th century as in the 19th? And what kind of infection is it which has outlived so many changes in the great pestilences of mankind, has seen the extinction of plague and the rise of cholera, and all other variations, most of them for the better, in the reigning types of epidemic sickness? To have lasted unchanged through so many mutations of things, from medieval to modern, and from modern to ultra-modern, and to have become more inveterate or protracted at the end of the 19th century than it had ever been, is unique in this history. Influenza appears to correspond with something broadly the same in human life at all times. Or is it rather a thing telluric, of the crust of the earth or the bowels of the earth? Or is it perhaps cosmic, affecting men as the vintage is affected by a comet, or as if it came from the upper spheres? My belief is that we need not transcend the globe to look for its source, and that, upon the earth, we need not go deeper than the surface, nor beyond the inhabited spots. I shall come back to this from giving the history of English opinion upon it.
The best known influenzas of the 16th century all came in summer, as some of the later ones have done, so that no one thought of them as exaggerated common colds. But it happened that the influenzas observed by Willis in 1658, and by Sydenham in 1675 and 1679, came in spring or winter and in such weather as to suggest to each of those physicians that the catarrhal symptoms corresponded to the season. Robert Boyle, their great philosophical contemporary, was also a witness of one or more of these influenzas, and it appeared to him that there was more than season and weather in them.
“I have known a great cold,” he says, “in a day or two invade multitudes in the same city with violent, and as to many persons, fatal symptoms; when I could not judge (as others also did not), that the bare coldness of the air could so suddenly produce a disease so epidemical and hurtful; and it appeared the more probable that the cause came from under ground, by reason that it began with a very troublesome fog[753].”
I am unable to say whether Boyle was the first to apply the doctrine of telluric or subterranean emanations to influenza; he was certainly not the first to apply it to pestilences in general, for it is found in Seneca among the ancients[754], and it is clearly stated in Ambroise Paré’s essay “Sur les Venins,” having been probably a familiar notion of the sixteenth century, although a mystical and undefined one. Sydenham also, who must have discussed these questions with Boyle, referred all the more obscure or “stationary” epidemic constitutions to effluvia discharged into the air from “the bowels of the earth”: those hypothetical miasmata were for him the τὸ θεῖον of Hippocrates, the mysterious something which had to be assumed so as to explain plague, pestilential fever, intermittent and remittent fevers, the “new fever” of 1685-6, and all other epidemic constitutions which were not caused by obvious changes of season and weather. But it does not appear, and it is not probable, that he ascribed to that mysterious cause the two transient waves of influenza which fell within his own experience, those of November, 1675, and of November, 1679. On the other hand, Boyle certainly did so; he included influenza in his hypothesis explicitly; and if one examines its general terms, it will appear as if it had been made specially for influenza.
Boyle’s general expression, for both endemial and epidemic maladies, is that they are due to subterranean effluvia sent up into the air. As a chemist, and as dealing with the new knowledge then most in vogue, he assumed the sources of these miasmata to be for the most part mineral deposits in the crust of the globe, especially “orpimental and other mischievous fossiles”; but later in his writing he says: