“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.”