SWEATING FEVER.

This disastrous pestilence, which proved, if possible, more fatal and terrific than the cholera, made its first appearance in London, in 1480 or 1483, first showing itself in the army of Henry VII. on his landing at Milford Haven. In London it only broke out a year or two after, and visited that capital occasionally for upwards of forty years. It then spread to Holland, Germany, Belgium, Flanders, France, Denmark, and Norway, where it continued its ravages from 1525 to 1530; it then returned to England, and was observed for the last time in 1551.

Dr. Caius calls it a pestilential fever of one day; and it prevailed, he says, with a mighty slaughter, and the description of it was as tremendous as that of the plague of Athens. Dr. Willis states that its malignity was so extreme, that as soon as it entered a city it made a daily attack on five or six hundred persons, of whom scarcely one in a hundred recovered. This malignant fever ran its course in a single paroxysm; and the cold fit and hot fit were equally fatal. If the patient was fortunate enough to reach the sweating stage, he was in general saved. It commenced its attack with a pain in the muscles of the neck, shoulders, legs, and arms, through which a warm aura seemed to creep; after these symptoms a profuse perspiration broke forth. The internal organs grew gradually hot and burning, the pungent heat extending to the extremities; with an intolerable thirst, sickness soon followed by jactitation, coma, and delirium. At Shrewsbury it raged for seven months, and carried off upwards of one thousand patients. The invasion of this terrific disorder was generally preceded by a thick noisome fog, especially in Shropshire. A dark cloud usually took the lead, and the distemper followed its course. It is somewhat singular, but most fatal contagions have been ushered in, both in ancient and modern times, by noxious fogs or mists, with clouds of various insects, either bending their course in innumerable bodies, covering vegetation, or falling in dead heaps upon the ground. The disease was generally supposed to arise from inclement seasons and injured grain; particularly wheat infested with the mildew or smut, or rye attacked with the spur. It was observed by Dr. Willan, that the contemporary inhabitants of Scotland and Wales, who fed on barley and oats, were not affected.

One of the most singular features of this malady was its only attacking the English. Foreigners, and even the Scotch and Irish, in England, seemed to be exempted from this scourge, which attacked the monarch himself, and two Dukes of Suffolk, who sunk under its virulence. In Westminster the number of daily deaths averaged one hundred and twenty. It may be easily imagined that this special liability of Englishmen to contract the disease was attributed to Divine wrath for their manifold offences; and we find the following lines in Phemtophius:

Cœlestia numina nobis
Nil sunt quàm nugæ, fabula, verba, jocus:
Indè fames nobis, pestes, Mars; denique fontem
Hinc etiam inclemens ιδοωνρετος habet,
Sævum, horrendum, atrox genus immedicabile morbi,
Nostræ perfidiæ debitum.

Dr. Armstrong has also recorded this peculiar visitation in the following:

Some, sad at home, and, in the desert, some,
Abjur’d the fatal commerce of mankind.
In vain: where’er they fled, the Fates pursued.
Others, with hopes more specious, cross’d the main,
To seek protection in far distant skies;
But none they found. It seemed, the general air
From pole to pole, from Atlas to the East,
Was then at enmity with English blood;
For, but the race of England, all were safe
In foreign climes; nor did this Fury taste
The foreign blood which England then contained.

That the atmosphere was saturated by this disease was obvious from the circumstance of vast numbers of birds falling dead, when, upon examination, pestilential swellings were found under their wings. Schiller attributed the disease to sideral influence. England, however, was not the only country where the wrath of Heaven was considered as having fulminated this scourge! and at Marburg it had such an effect, that it actually put an end to the violent disputes between Luther and Zuingle concerning the Eucharist, and which were on the eve of kindling a religious war.

A disease somewhat similar manifested itself in Picardy in 1773, having first appeared at Hardivilliers, five leagues from Beauvais; but, instead of terminating in a single day, it ran on to the third, fifth, and seventh: a fever of the same description was also observed in Gascony.