IV. SMALLPOX

IV. SMALLPOX

The history of smallpox in Britain is that of a disease coming gradually into prominence and hardly attaining a leading place until the reign of James I. In this respect it is unlike plague and sweating sickness, both of which burst upon the country in their full strength, just as both made their last show in epidemics which were as severe as any in their history. In the former volume of this work I have shown that smallpox in the first Tudor reigns was usually coupled with measles, that in the Elizabethan period the Latin name variolae was rendered by measles, and that smallpox, where distinguished from measles, was not reputed a very serious malady[808]. From the beginning of the Stuart period, smallpox is mentioned in letters, especially from London, in such a way as to give the impression of something which, if not new, was much more formidable than before; and that impression is deepened by all that is known of the disease later in the 17th century, including the rising figures in the London bills of mortality.

An early notice of a particular outbreak of smallpox is found in the Kirk Session records of Aberdeen in 1610, under the date of 12 August: “There was at this time a great visitation of the young children with the plague of the pocks[809].” In 1612 there are various references to deaths from smallpox in London in rich houses. In 1613, the Lord Harrington, who is said in a letter of Dr Donne’s to be suffering from “the pox and measles mingled,” died of smallpox (probably haemorrhagic) on the Sunday before 3 March, at which date also the Lady Burghley and two of her daughters were sick of the same disease. Those two years were probably an epidemic period. Another epidemic is known from a letter of December, 1621: “The smallpox brake out again in divers places, for all the last hard winter and cool summer, and hitherto we have had no sultry summer nor warm winter that might invite them. The Lord Dudley’s eldest son is lately dead of them, and the young Lady Mordaunt is now sick.” On 28 January, 1623, “the speech that the smallpox be very rife there [Newmarket] will not hinder his [James I.’s] journey.” The years 1623 and 1624 were far more disastrous by the spotted fever all over England; but smallpox attended the typhus epidemic, as it often did in later experience, the two together having “taken away many of good sort as well as mean people.”

The first epidemic of smallpox in London, from which some figures of the weekly mortalities have come down, was in 1628: this was the year before the Parish Clerks began to print their annual bills, but they had kept the returns regularly since 1604, and appear to have made known in one way or another the weekly mortality and the chief diseases contributing thereto. The smallpox deaths in London in the week ending 24 May, 1628, were forty-one, in the following week thirty-eight, and in the third week of June fifty-eight[810]. Such weekly mortalities in a population of about 300,000 belong to an epidemic of the first degree; and it is clear from letters of the time that the London smallpox of 1628 made a great impression. Lord Dorchester, in a letter of 30 August, calls it “the popular disease[811].” Several letters relating to a fatal case of smallpox in June in the house of Sir John Coke in the city (Garlick Hill) bear witness to the dread of contagion through all that circle of society[812]. One of the letters may be cited:

“It pleased God to visit Mrs Ellweys [Coke’s stepdaughter] with such a disease that neither she nor any other of her nearest and dearest friends durst come near her, unless they would hazard their own health. The children and almost all our family were sent to Tottenham before she fell sick, and blessed be God are all in health. Mrs Ellweys was sick with us of the smallpox twelve days or thereabouts.” Before she was out of the smallpox, she was taken in labour on 15 June, and died the next morning at five o’clock, being buried the same night at ten, with only Sir Robert Lee and his lady of her kindred at the funeral. The letter proceeds: “God knows we have been sequestered from many of our friends’ company, who came not near us for fear of infection, and indeed we were very circumspect, careful, and unwilling that any should come to us to impair their health.” Lady Coke was fearful to go to Tottenham because of the children who had been removed thither.

All the indications, whether from letters of the time, from poems and plays, or from statistics, point to the two first Stuart reigns as the period when smallpox became an alarming disease in London among adults and in the upper class. The reference to smallpox at Aberdeen in 1610 is to the disease among children; and so also is an unique entry, opposite the year 1636, on the margin of the register of Trinity parish, Chester: “For this two or three years, divers children died of smallpox in Chester[813].” In London, the disease had not yet settled down to that steady prevalence from year to year which characterized it after the Restoration. On the other hand, the periodic epidemics were very severe while they lasted. The epidemic of 1628 was followed by three years of very slight smallpox mortality in London; then came a moderate epidemic in 1632 and a severe one in 1634, with again two or more years of comparative immunity, as in the following table from the earliest annual printed bills:

Smallpox deaths in London, 1629-36[814].

Smallpox Deaths from Year deaths all causes

1629 72 8771 1630 40 10554 1631 58 8532 1632 531 9535 1633 72 8393 1634 1354 10400 1635 293 10651 1636 127 23359

For the next ten years, 1637-46, the London figures are lost[815], excepting the plague-deaths and the totals of deaths from all causes, but it is known from letters that there was a great epidemic of smallpox in one of them, the year 1641: the deaths were 118 in the week ending 26 August, and 101 in the week ending 9 September[816], totals seldom reached a century later, when the population had nearly doubled. In those weeks of 1641, it was second only to the plague as a cause of dread, and was, along with the latter, the reason that “both Houses grow thin,” for all the political excitement of the time. The next London epidemic was in 1649, when the annual bill gives 1190 deaths from smallpox. Willis says that the epidemic was also at Oxford that year, not so very extensive, “yet most died of it” owing to the severe type of the disease[817]. Five years after, in 1654, “at Oxford, about autumn, the smallpox spread abundantly, yet very many escaped with them.” The London deaths from smallpox for a series of years were as follows:

Smallpox Year deaths

1647 139 1648 401 1649 1190 1650 184 1651 525 1652 1279 1653 139 1654 832 1655 1294 1656 823 1657 835 1658 409 1659 1523 1660 354 1661 1246

Smallpox after the Restoration.

The period which must now concern us particularly, from the Restoration onwards, opens with two deaths from smallpox in the royal family within a few months of the return of the Stuarts. When Charles II. left the Hague on 23 May, 1660, to assume the English crown, his two brothers, the Duke of York and the Duke of Gloucester, accompanied him in the fleet. In the first days of September, the Duke of Gloucester was seized at Whitehall with an illness of which various accounts are given in letters of the time[818]. On 4 September, “the duke hath been very sick, and ’tis thought he will have the smallpox.” On the 8th “the doctors say it is a disease between the smallpox and the measles; he is now past danger of death for this bout, as the doctors say”; or, by another account, “the smallpox come out full and kindly, and ’tis thought the worst is past.” On the 11th the duke is “in good condition for one that has the smallpox.” But a day or two afterwards his symptoms took an unfavourable turn; the doctors left him, apparently with a good prognosis, one evening at six o’clock, but shortly after he bled at the nose three or four ounces, then fell asleep, and on awaking passed into an unconscious state, in which he died. When his body was opened, the lungs were full of blood, “besides three or four pints that lay about them, and much blood in his head, which took away his sense.” Pepys says his death was put down to the great negligence of the doctors; and if we can trust a news-letter of the time, their negligence was such as would have been now approved, for “the physicians never gave him anything from first to last, so well was he in appearance to everyone[819].” Three days after his funeral, the king and the Duke of York went to Margate to meet their sister, the princess Mary of Orange, on her arrival from the Hague. Her visit to the Court extended into the winter, and about the middle of December she also took smallpox, of which she died on the 21st. Pepys, dining with Lady Sandwich, heard that “much fault was laid upon Dr Frazer and the rest of the doctors for the death of the princess.” Her sister, the princess Henrietta, who had come on a visit to Whitehall with the Queen-mother in October, was removed to St James’s on 21st December, “for fear of the smallpox”; but she must have been already sickening, for on the 16th January it is reported that she “is recovered of the measles.”

These deaths at Whitehall of a brother and sister of Charles II. happened in the autumn and winter of 1660; but it was not until next year that the smallpox rose to epidemic height in London, the deaths from it having been only 354 in 1660, rising to 1246 in 1661, and 768 in 1662. In 1661 it appears to have been epidemic in other parts of England: Willis, who was then at Oxford, says that smallpox began to rage severely before the summer solstice (adding that it was “a distemper rarely epidemical”), and there are letters from a squire’s wife in Rutlandshire to her husband in London, which speak of the disease raging in their village in May and June[820].

There was much fever of a fatal type in London in 1661, which is more noticed than smallpox itself in the diary of Pepys. The town was in a very unhealthy state; and it would have been in accordance with all later experience if the “pestilential constitution” of fevers, which continued more or less until the plague burst forth in 1665, had been accompanied by much fatal smallpox. The occasion was used by two medical writers to remark upon the fatality of smallpox as something new. The second of the two essays (1663), was anonymous, and bore the significant title of Hactenus Inaudita, the hitherto unheard of thing being that smallpox should prove so fatal as it had been lately. The author adopts the dictum of Mercurialis, with which, he says, most men agree: “Smallpox and measles are wont for the most part to terminate favourably”; and he makes it clear in the following passage that the blame of recent fatalities was laid, justly or unjustly, at the door of the doctors, as, indeed, we know that it was from the gossip of Pepys:

“And I know not by what fate physicians of late have more lost their credit in these diseases than ever: witness the severe judgment of the world in the cases of the Duke of Gloucester and the Princess Royal: so that now they stick not to say, with your Agrippa, that at least in these a physician is more dangerous than the malady[821].”

The other essay was by one of the king’s physicians, Dr Tobias Whitaker, who had attended the Court in its exile at St Germain and the Hague. He was by no means an empiric, as some were whom Charles II. delighted to honour; and, although he protests warmly against the modish injudicious treatment of smallpox by blooding and cooling, he has little of the recriminating manner of the time, which Sydenham used from the one side and Morton from the other. He is, indeed, all for moderation: “upon this hinge of moderation turneth the safety of every person affected with this disease.” His moderation is somewhat like that of Sir Thomas Browne (whose colleague he may have been for a few years at Norwich), and is apt to run into paradox. In 1634 he wrote in praise of water, including the waters of spas and of the sea, and in 1638 he wrote with even greater enthusiasm in praise of wine[822]. He says of his “most learned predecessor” at Court, Harvey, that his demonstration of the circular motion of the blood was a farther extension of what none were ignorant of “though not expert in dissection of living bodies.” On his return to London in 1660, he seemed to find as great a change in smallpox as in the disposition of the people towards the monarchy. His statement as to the change for the worse that had come over smallpox within his memory would be of the highest historical importance if we could be sure it was not illusory; it is difficult to reconcile with the London experiences of smallpox in 1628 and 1641, but, such as it is, we must take note of it:

“It is not as yet a complete year since my landing with his Majesty in England, and in this short time have observed as strange a difference in this subject of my present discourse as in the variety of opinions and dispositions of this nation, with whom I have discoursed.” This disease of smallpox, he proceeds, “was antiently and generally in the common place of petit and puerile, and the cure of no moment.... But from what present constitution of the ayre this childish disease hath received such pestilential tinctures I know not; yet I am sure that this disease, which for hundreds of yeares and before the practice of medicine was so exquisite, hath been as commonly cured as it hapned, therefore in this age not incurable, as upon my own practice I can testifie.... Riverius will not have one of one thousand of humane principles to escape it, yet in my conjecture there is not one of one thousand in the universe that hath any knowledge or sense of it, from their first ingress into the world to their last egress out of this world; which could not be, if it were so inherent or concomitant with maternal bloud and seed,” referring to the old Arabian doctrine, which Willis adhered to, that every child was tainted in the womb with the retained impure menstrual blood of the mother, and that smallpox (or measles) was the natural and regular purification therefrom. “But smallpox,” he continues, “is dedicated to infants more particularly which are moist, and some more than others abounding with vitious humours drawn from maternal extravagancy and corrupt dyet in the time of their gestation; and by this aptitude are well disposed to receive infection of the ayre upon the least infection[823].”

When Whitaker calls smallpox a “childish disease,” a disease that was “antiently and generally in the common place of petit and puerile, and the cure of no moment,” he says no more than Willis and others say of smallpox as it affected infants and children. Says Willis: “there is less danger if it should happen in the age of childhood or infancy”; and again: “the sooner that anyone hath this disease, the more secure they are, wherefore children most often escape”; and again: “the measles are so much akin to the smallpox that with most authors they have not deserved to be handled apart from them,” although he recognizes that measles is sooner ended and with less danger. Nor was Willis singular among seventeenth-century physicians in his view--“the sooner that anyone hath this disease the more secure they are.” Morton in two passages remarks upon the greater mildness of smallpox in “infants”: “For that they are less anxious about the result, infants feel its destructive force more rarely than others”; and again: “Hence doubtless infants, being of course ἀπαθεῖς, are afflicted more rarely than adults with the severe kinds of confluent and malignant smallpox[824].”

In the very first treatise written by an English physician specially on the Acute Diseases of Infants, the work by Dr Walter Harris, there is a statement concerning the mildness of “smallpox and measles in infants” (who are defined as under four years of age), which goes even farther than Morton’s:

“The smallpox and measles of infants, being for the most part a mild and tranquil effervescence of the blood, are wont to have often no bad character, where neither the helping hands of physicians are called in nor the abounding skill of complacent nurses is put in requisition[825].”

It has to be said, however, that Morton’s statement about infants is made to illustrate a favourite notion of his that apprehension as to the result, which infants were not subject to, made smallpox worse; and that Harris’s assertion of the natural mildness of the “smallpox and measles” of infants comes in to illustrate the evil done by the heating regimen of physicians and nurses, who are mentioned in obviously sarcastic terms. So also Sydenham says that “many thousands” of infants had perished in the smallpox through the ill-timed endeavours of imprudent women to check the diarrhoea which was a complication of the malady, but was in Sydenham’s view, although not in Morton’s, at the same time a wholesome relieving incident therein. If we may take it that infants and young children had smallpox in a mild form, or more rarely confluent than in adults, we may also conclude that many of them died, whether from the alexipharmac remedies which Morton advised and Sydenham (with his follower Harris) denounced, or from the attendant diarrhoea which Sydenham thought a natural relief to the disease and Morton thought a dangerous complication.

Making every allowance for motive or recrimination in the statements, from their several points of view, by Willis, Sydenham, Morton, Harris (Martin Lister might have been added), as to the naturally mild course of smallpox in infants, or when not interfered with by erroneous treatment, it cannot but appear that infantile smallpox at that time was more like measles in its severity or fatality than the infantile smallpox of later times. It is perhaps of little moment that Jurin should have repeated in 1723 the statements of Willis and others (“the hazard of dying of smallpox increases after the birth, as the child advances in age”)[826], for he had little intimate knowledge of epidemics, being at that time mainly occupied with mathematics, and with smallpox from the arithmetical side only. But it is not so easy to understand why Heberden should have said the same a generation after[827]; or how much credit should attach to the remark of “an eminent physician from Ireland,” who wrote to Dr Andrew, of Exeter, in 1765: “Infants usually have the natural pock of as benign a kind as the artificial[828].”

Whatever may have been its fatality or severity among infants and children, it was chiefly as a disease of the higher ages that smallpox in the Stuart period attracted so much notice and excited so much alarm. The cases mentioned in letters and diaries are nearly all of adults; and these were the cases, whatever proportion they may have made of the smallpox at all ages, that gave the disease its ill repute. About the middle of the 18th century we begin to have exact figures of the ages at which deaths from smallpox occurred: the deaths are then nearly all of infants, so much so that in a total of 1622, made up from exact returns, only 7 were above the age of ten, and only 92 between five and ten; while an age-incidence nearly the same continued to be the rule until after the great epidemic of 1837-39, when it began gradually to move higher[829]. But we should err in imagining that state of things the rule for the 17th century, just as we should err in carrying it forward into our own time. Not only are we told that smallpox of infants was like measles in that the cure was of no moment (which is strange), but we do know from references to smallpox in the familiar writings of the Stuart period that many of its attacks, with a high ratio of fatalities, must have happened to adults. Thus, to take the diary of John Evelyn, he himself had smallpox abroad when he was a young man, his two daughters died of it in early womanhood within a few months of each other, and a suitor for the hand of one of them died of it about the same time. Medical writings leave the same impression of smallpox attacking many after the age of childhood. Willis gives four cases, all of adults. Morton gives sixty-six clinical cases of smallpox, the earliest record of the kind, and one that might pass as modern: twelve of the cases are under six years of age, nine are at ages from seven to twelve, eleven from thirteen years to twenty, seven from twenty-two to forty, and all but two of the remaining twenty-four clearly indicated in the text, in one way or another, as adolescents or adults, the result being that 23 cases are under twelve and 43 cases over twelve[830].

That ratio of adults to children may have been exceptional. Morton was less likely to be called to infants than to older persons, even among the middle class; and no physician in London at that time knew what was passing among the poorer classes, except from the bills of mortality. But if Morton had practised in London two or three generations later, say in the time of Lettsom, when “most born in London have smallpox before they are seven,” his casebook would not have shown a proportion of forty-three cases over twelve years to twenty-three under that age. Whatever things contributed to the growing evil repute of smallpox among epidemic maladies, there is so much concurrent testimony to the fact itself that we can hardly take it to have been wholly illusion. In some parts the mildness of smallpox was still asserted as if due to local advantages. Thus Dr Plot, who succeeded Willis in his chair of physics at Oxford, wrote in 1677: “Generally here they are so favourable and kind that, be the nurse but tolerably good, the patient seldom miscarries[831].”

The reason commonly assigned for the large number of fatalities in smallpox after the Restoration was erroneous treatment. That is the charge made, not only in the gossip of the town, as Pepys reported it, but in Sydenham’s animadversions on the heating regimen, in Morton’s on the cooling regimen, and in the sarcasms of both physicians upon the practice of “mulierculae” or nurses. One may easily make too much of this view of the matter; it is certain that the incidence of smallpox, its fatality and its frequency in general, were determined in the Stuart period, as at other times, by many things besides. Still, the treatment of smallpox has always had the first place in its epidemiological history. The fashion of it that concerns us at this stage was the famous cooling regimen, commonly joined with the name of Sydenham.

Sydenham’s Practice in Smallpox.

Sydenham occupied his pen largely with smallpox, and gained much of his reputation by his treatment of it. At the root of his practice lay the distinction that he made between discrete smallpox and confluent. His practice in the discrete form was to do little or nothing, leaving the disease to get well of itself. Whether the eventual eruption were to be discrete or confluent, he could not of course tell for certain until two or three days after the patient sickened; but in no case was the sick person to be confined to bed until the eruption came out. If the latter were sparse or discrete, the patient was to get up for several hours every day while the disease ran its course, the physician having small occasion to interfere with its progress: “whoever labours under the distinct kind hardly needs the aid of a physician, but gets well of himself and by the strength of nature.” One may see how salutary a piece of good sense this was at the time, by taking such a case as that of John Evelyn, narrated by himself[832]. He fell ill at Geneva in 1646, and was bled, leeched and purged before the diagnosis of smallpox was made. “God knows,” he says, “what this would have produced if the spots had not appeared.” When the eruption did appear, it was only the discrete smallpox; the pimples, he says, were not many. But he was kept warm in bed for sixteen days, during which he was infinitely afflicted with heat and noisomeness, although the appearance of the eruption had eased him of his pains. For five whole weeks did he keep his chamber in this comparatively slight ailment. When he suggested to the physician that the letting of blood had been uncalled for, the latter excused the depletion on the ground that the blood was so burnt and vicious that the disease would have turned to plague or spotted fever had he proceeded by any other method[833].

As there were many such cases, Sydenham’s radical distinction between discrete and confluent smallpox, with his advice to leave the former to itself, was of great value, and is justly reckoned to his credit. But in the management of confluent smallpox he advised active interference. If there were the slightest indication that the disease was to be confluent (that is to say, the eruption copious and the pocks tending to run together), he at once ordered the patient to receive a vomit and a purge, and then to be bled, with a view to check the ebullition of the blood and mitigate the violence of the disease. Even infants and young children were to have their blood drawn in such an event. This heroic treatment at the outset was according to the rule of obsta principiis; by means of it he thought to divert the attack into a milder course. The initial depletion once over, Sydenham had resort to what is known as the cooling regimen. He set his face against the “sixteen days warm in bed,” which Evelyn had to endure even in a discrete smallpox. It was usually a mistake for the patient to take to bed continually before the sixth day from his sickening or the fourth day from the appearance of the eruption; after that stage, when all the pustules would be out, the regimen would differ in different confluent cases, and, of course, in some a continuance in bed would be inevitable as well as prudent. In like manner cardiac or cordial remedies, which were of a heating character, were indicated only by the patient’s lowness. The more powerful diaphoretic treacles, such as mithridate, were always a mistake. The tenth day was a critical time, and then paregoric was almost a specific. In the stage of recovery it was not rarely prudent to prescribe cordial medicines and canary wine. Thus, on a fair review of Sydenham’s ordinances for smallpox in a variety of circumstances, it will appear that he did not carry the cooling regimen to fanatical lengths and that he was sufficiently aware of the risks attending a chill in the course of the disease[834].

Apart from his rule of leaving cases of discrete smallpox to recover of themselves, Sydenham’s management of the disease was neither approved generally at the time, nor endorsed by posterity. His phlebotomies in confluent cases, usually at the outset, but sometimes even after the eruption was out if the patient had been under the heating regimen before, were an innovation borrowed from the French Galenists. The earlier writers had, for the most part, excepted smallpox among the acute maladies in which blood was to be drawn. But the Galenic rules of treatment were made more rigorous in proportion as they were challenged by the Paracelsist or chemical physicians, and it was among the upholders of tradition that blood-letting was extended to smallpox. Whitaker says that, when he was at St Germain with the exiled Stuarts, the French king was blooded in smallpox ten or eleven times, and recovered; “and upon this example they will ground a precept for universal practice.”

The ambiguity of the diagnosis at the outset, and the desire to lose no time, may have been the original grounds of this indiscriminate fashion of bleeding. Evelyn’s doctor at Geneva in 1646, “afterwards acknowledged that he should not have bled me had he suspected the smallpox, which brake out a day after,” but eventually he defended his practice as having made the attack milder. In like manner Sir Robert Sibbald, of Edinburgh, (1684) took four ounces of blood from a child of five, who was sickening for some malady; when it turned out to be smallpox, the mother expressed her alarm that blood should have been drawn; but Sibbald pointed to the favourable character of the eruption as justifying what he had done: “Optime enim eruperunt variolae, et ab earum eruptione febris remissit[835].”

The ill effects of blood-letting, says Whitaker, may be observed in French children, which by this frequent phlebotomizing are “withered in juvenile age.” Therefore, he concludes, blooding in smallpox should not be a common remedy, “but in such extremity as the person must lose some part of his substance to save the whole.” He calls it the rash and inconsiderate practice of modish persons; “and if the disease be conjunct [confluent], with an undeniable plethory of blood, which is the proper indication of phlebotomy, yet such bleeding ought to be by scarification [upon the arms, thighs or back] and cupping-glasses, without the cutting of any major vessel.” Another English physician of the time, Dr Slatholm, of Buntingford in Hertfordshire, who wrote in 1657[836], says that he had known physicians in Paris not to abstain from venesection in children of tender age, even in sucklings. He had never approved the letting of blood in such cases, lest nature be so weakened as to be unable to drive the peccant matter to the skin. For the most part, he says, an ill result follows venesection in smallpox; and although it sometimes succeeds, yet that is more by chance than by good management. As to exposing the sick in smallpox to cold air, he declares that he had known many in benign smallpox carried off thereby, instancing the case of his brother-in-law, the squire of Great Hornham, near Buntingford, whose death from smallpox in November, 1656, in the flower of his age, he set down to a chill brought on “ejus inobedientia et mulierum contumacia[837].”

The cooling regimen, as well as the danger of it, was familiar long before Sydenham’s time. There could be no better proof of this than a bit of dialogue in Beaumont and Fletcher’s ‘Fair Maid of the Inn’ (Act II. scene 2), a comedy which was licensed in January, 1626:

Host. And you have been in England? But they say ladies in England take a great deal of physic.... They say ladies there take physic for fashion.

Clown. Yes, sir, and many times die to keep fashion.

Host. How! Die to keep fashion?

Clown. Yes: I have known a lady sick of the smallpox, only to keep her face from pit-holes, take cold, strike them in again, kick up the heels, and vanish.

Sydenham says that the heating regimen was the practice of empirics and sciolists. Per contra his distinguished colleague Morton says that every old woman and apothecary practised the cooling regimen, and he points the moral of its evil consequences in a good many of his sixty-six clinical cases[838]. He pronounces the results of the cooling regimen to have been disastrous; he had been told that Sydenham himself relaxed the rigour of his treatment in his later years. There was so little smallpox for some fifteen years after the date of Morton’s book (1694) that the controversies on its treatment appear to have dropped. But, on the revival of epidemics in 1710 and 1714, essays were written against blooding, vomits and purges in smallpox[839].

In 1718, Dr Woodward, the Gresham professor of physic and an eminent geologist, published some remarks on “the new practice of purging” in smallpox, which were directed against Mead and Freind. In 1719 Freind addressed a Latin letter to Mead on the subject (the purging was in the secondary fever of confluent smallpox), and a lively controversy arose in which Freind referred to Woodward anonymously as a well-known empiric. On the 10th of June, 1719, about eight in the evening, Woodward was entering the quadrangle of Gresham College when he was set upon by Mead. Woodward drew his sword and rested the point of it until Mead drew his, which he was long in doing. The passes then began and the combatants advanced step by step until they were in the middle of the quadrangle. Woodward declared (in a letter to the Weekly Journal) that he was getting the best of it, when his foot slipped and he fell. He found Mead quickly standing over him demanding that he should beg his life. This Woodward declined to do, and the combat degenerated to a strife of tongues[840]. Next year the controversy over the treatment of smallpox assumed a triangular form. The third side was represented by Dr Dover, who had been something of a buccaneer on the Spanish main and was now in practice as a physician. An old pupil of Sydenham’s, he still adhered to blood-letting in smallpox; and in the spring of 1720, when the disease was exceedingly prevalent among persons of quality in London, he claimed to have rescued from death a lady whom Mead had given over, by pulling off the latter’s blisters and ordering a pint of blood to be drawn. “He hath observed the same method with like success with several persons of quality this week, and is as yet in very great vogue.... He declaims against his brethren of the faculty [especially Mead and Freind], with public and great vehemence, and particularly against purging and blistering in the distemper, which he affirms to be the death of thousands[841].”

Huxham, another Sydenhamian, appears to have practised not only blooding in smallpox, but also blistering, purging and salivating[842]. But in that generation the practice was exceptional; so much so that when it revived in some hands about 1752 (including Fothergill’s), it was thus referred to in a letter upon the general epidemic of smallpox in that year: “I have heard that bleeding is more commonly practised by some of the best physicians nowadays than it was formerly, even after the smallpox is come out[843].” In smallpox the lancet, like other methods, has been in fashion for a time, and then out of fashion; but the old teaching that smallpox did not call for blood-letting was ultimately restored. When Barker, in 1747, gave a discourse before the College of Physicians on the “Agreement betwixt Ancient and Modern Physicians,” he did not venture to defend Sydenham’s blooding in smallpox, although he would not admit that he was “a bloodthirsty man[844].”

Causes of Mild or Severe Smallpox.

Besides the errors of the heating or the cooling regimen respectively, there is another thing that may have had something to do with the greater fatality of smallpox, as remarked by many, about the middle of the 17th century. “How is it,” asks Sydenham, “that so few of the common people die of this disease compared with the numbers that perish by it among the rich[845]?” Sydenham may not have known how much smallpox mortality there was in the poorer quarters of London. But the Restoration was certainly a great time of free living in the upper classes of society, and it is equally certain that smallpox was apt to prove a deadly disease to a broken constitution. Willis believed that excesses even predisposed people to take the infection: “I have known some to have fallen into this disease from a surfeit or immoderate exercise, when none besides in the whole country about hath been sick of it.” There were, of course, families in which smallpox was for some unknown reason peculiarly fatal. Again, the origins of constitutional weakness are lost in ancestry, the poor stamina of children being often determined by the lives of their grandfathers or great-grandfathers. In the royal family of Stuart smallpox proved more than ordinarily fatal, but it was among the grand-children and great grand-children of James I. that those fatalities happened. Of the children of Charles I., the Duke of Gloucester and the Princess of Orange died of smallpox within a few months of each other in the year of the Restoration. The disease was not less fatal a generation after in the family of the Duke of York (James II.). Dr Willis fell into disgrace with that prince because he bluntly told him that the ailment of one of his sons was “mala stamina vitae.” All his sons, says Burnet, died young and unhealthy, one of them by smallpox. Of his two daughters, Queen Mary died of haemorrhagic smallpox in 1694, and the Duke of Gloucester, only child of the other, Princess Anne of Denmark (afterwards Queen Anne), died at the age of eleven, of a malady which was called smallpox by some, and malignant sore-throat by others[846].

Among the medical writers of this period, who gave reasons why smallpox should be so severe or deadly in some while it was so slight in others, Morton was the most systematic. He made three degrees of smallpox--benign, medium and malignant: these did not answer quite to the discrete, confluent and haemorrhagic of other classifiers, for his malignant class included so many confluent cases that in one place he uses malignae as the equivalent of confluentes seu cohaerentes, while his middle class was made up of some confluent cases,--perhaps such medium cases as had confluent pocks on the face but not elsewhere,--and a certain proportion of discrete. The medium kind were the most common (frequentissimae sunt et maxime vulgares variolae mediae). Still, it was the benign type that he made the norma or standard of smallpox, from which the disease was “deflected” towards the medium type, or still farther deflected towards the malignant. He gives a list of fourteen things that may serve to deflect an attack of smallpox from the norma of mildness to the degrees of mean severity or malignity:

1. If the eruption come out too soon or too late.

2. If the patient be sprung from a stock in which smallpox is wont to prove fatal, as if by hereditary right.

3. If the attack fall in the flower of life, when the spirits are keener and more inclined to febrile heats.

4. If the patient be harassed by fever, or by sorrow, love or any other passion of the mind.

5. If the patient be given to spirituous liquors, vehement exercise or anything else of the kind that tends to irritate the spirits.

6. If the attack come upon women during certain states of health peculiar to them.

7. If cathartics, emetics and blooding had been used.

8. If the heating regimen had been carried to excess, or other ill-judged treatment followed.

9. If the patient had met a chill at the outset, checking the eruption.

10. If the attack happen in summer.

11. If the attack happen during a variolous epidemic constitution of the air.

12. If the patient be pregnant or newly married.

13. If the patient be consumptive or syphilitic.

14. If the patient be apprehensive as to the result.

Morton having made the benign type the norm, made the medium type the commonest; and that was really true of the first great epidemic in London in his experience, in the years 1667-68. Sydenham says of it that the cases were more than he ever remembered to have seen, before or after: “nevertheless, as the disease was regular and of a mild type, it cut off comparatively few among the immense number of those who took it.” Pepys enters this epidemic under the date of 9 Feb. 1668: “It also hardly ever was remembered for such a season for the smallpox as these last two months have been, people being seen all up and down the streets newly come out after the smallpox.” Let us pause here for a moment to ask what Pepys may have meant by recognising the people all up and down the streets newly come out after the smallpox. Did he mean that they were pock-marked? We may answer the question by the testimony of Dr Fothergill for a correspondingly mild and extensive prevalence of smallpox in London some three generations later, which I shall take out of its order because it bears upon the question of pitting. His report for December 1751 is:[847]

“Smallpox began to make their appearance more frequently than they had done of late, and became epidemic in this month. They were in general of a benign kind, tolerably distinct, though often very numerous. Many had them so favourably as to require very little medical assistance, and perhaps a greater number have got through them safely than has of late years been known.” The January (1752) report is: “A distinct benign kind of smallpox continued to be the epidemic of this month; a few confluent cases, but rarely.” In February he writes: “Children and young persons, unless the constitution is very unfavourable, get through it very well; and the height to which the weekly bills are swelled ought to be considered, in the present case, as an argument of the frequency, not the fatality, of this distemper.” In June the type was still favourable: “Crowds of such whom we see daily in the streets without any other vestige than the remaining redness of a distinct pock.”

This was an epidemic such as Sydenham alleges that of 1667-68 to have been; and the vestiges of smallpox by which Pepys recognized those who were newly come out of the disease were probably the same that Fothergill saw in 1752.

A practitioner at Chichester does indeed say as much of those treated by himself about the same date: “when the distemper did rage so much in and about Chichester, ten or a dozen years since [written in 1685], it was a great many that fell under my care, I believe sixty at the least, and yet I lost but one person of the disease. Nor was one of my patients marked with them to be seen but half a year after[848].” As these experiences must have been somewhat exceptional I shall give a section to the general case.

Pockmarked Faces in the 17th Century.

The smallpox of 1667-68 had among its numerous victims one of the king’s mistresses, the beautiful Frances Stewart, duchess of Richmond, residing in Somerset House, who caught the disease in March 1668 and was “mighty full of it.” Pepys, who records the fact, had seen her portrait taken shortly before: “It would make a man weep,” he exclaims, “to see what she was then and what she is likely to be by people’s discourse now.” Happily the worst fears were not realized. Pepys saw her driving in the Park in August, and remarks, without a strict regard to grammar, that she was “of a noble person as ever I did see, but her face worse than it was considerably by the smallpox.” The king, unlike the Lord Castlewood of romance, suffered no loss of ardour for his mistress, having visited her over the garden wall, as Mr Pepys relates, on the evening of Sunday, the 10th of May. It is rather the idea, and especially the historical idea, of these horrors that “would make a man weep,” and it has moved a great and eloquent historian of our own time to deep pathos[849]. If there be anything that can counteract the effects of agreeable rhetoric it is perhaps statistics. The following numerical estimate of the proportion of pockmarked faces in London after the Restoration is accordingly offered with all deference. It applies mainly to the criminal and lower classes, who were as likely as any to bear the marks of smallpox.

In the London Gazette, the first advertisement of a person “wanted” appears in December, 1667; and thereafter until June, 1774, there are a hundred such advertisements of runaway apprentices, of footmen or other servants who had robbed their masters, of horse-stealers, of highwaymen, and the like. There is always a description more or less full; and in the consecutive hundred I have included only such persons as are so particularly described in feature that pock-pits would have been mentioned if they had existed. It is not until the ninth case that “pock-holes in his face” occurs in the description, the eleventh case following close, with the same mark of identity. Then comes a long interval until the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth cases, both with pock-holes, two of a band of highwaymen concerned in an attempt to rob the Duke of Ormond’s coach near London, one of them having emerged from Frying-pan Alley in Petticoat Lane. Fifteen cases follow, all described by distinctive features, without mention of pock-marks, until we come to the fortieth, a boy of twelve or thirteen, who “hath lately had the smallpox.” The next is the forty-ninth, a Yorkshireman, long-visaged, and “hath had the smallpox,” and close upon him the fiftieth “marked with smallpox.” Then come four in quick succession, the 56th, 59th, 61st and 63d; next the 71st; and then a long series with no marks of smallpox, until the 95th, 97th, 99th and 100th, three of these last four having been negroes.

The result is that sixteen in the hundred are marked more or less with smallpox, four of them being black men or boys. One had “lately had the smallpox,” another had “newly recovered of the smallpox.” One was a cherry-cheeked boy of twelve, “somewhat disfigured with smallpox,” who had run away from Bradford school. Two are described as much disfigured, some as a little disfigured, several others as “full of pock-holes.” The same mark of identity is occasionally mentioned in the advertisements beyond the hundred tabulated, but not more frequently than before, the usual term in the later period being “pock-broken.” This proportion of pock-marked persons among the London populace, sixteen in the hundred, or about twelve in the hundred excluding negroes, does not err on the side of under-statement, if it errs at all. Some such small ratio is what we might have expected in the antecedent probabilities, arising out of the varying degrees of severity of smallpox and the various textures of the human skin. Pitting after smallpox has always been a special risk of a certain texture of the skin, namely, a sufficient thickness of the vascular layer to afford the pock a deep base. Such complexions are common enough even in our own latitudes; and those are the faces that have always borne the most obvious traces of smallpox. It was some of the confluent cases, or rather, of such of them as recovered, that became pock-marked: the babe that became a changeling was not likely to survive. Adults retained the marks more than children, so that there must always have been a good many pock-marked faces in a population where the incidence of the disease was largely upon grown persons, as in the 17th century and in our own time. When smallpox was something of a novelty at the end of the Elizabethan period, a poet addressed a pathetic lyric to his mistress’s pock-marked face. A medical writer of the same period reproduces the old Arabian prescription against pitting, to open the pocks on the face with a golden pin, and adds: “I have heard of some, which, having not used anythinge at all, but suffering them to drie up and fall of themselves, without picking or scratching, have done very well, and not any pits remained after it[850].” Whitaker, in 1661, dismisses the risk of pitting very briefly, remarking that the means of prevention was “commonly the complement of every experienced nurse[851].” Morton, in his sixty-six clinical cases and in his commentary, makes but slight reference to pitting. In his 14th case, a severe one, “no scars remained”; in his general remarks he treats pitting as a bugbear: “women set the fairness of their faces above life itself,” which may mean, as in Beaumont and Fletcher’s comedy, that they would chill themselves at all risks by the cooling regimen so they might drive the pocks in[852].

The Epidemiology continued to the end of the 17th century.

What little remains to be said of smallpox in England to the end of the seventeenth century may be introduced by the following table of the deaths in London.

Smallpox Deaths in London 1661 to 1700.

Total Smallpox Year deaths deaths

1661 16,665 1246 1662 13,664 768 1663 12,741 411 1664 15,453 1233 1665 97,306 655 1666 12,738 38 1667 15,842 1196 1668 17,278 1987 1669 19,432 951 1670 20,198 1465 1671 15,729 696 1672 18,230 1116 1673 17,504 853 1674 21,201 2507 1675 17,244 997 1676 18,732 359 1677 19,067 1678 1678 20,678 1798 1679 21,730 1967 1680 21,053 689 1681 23,951 2982 1682 20,691 1408 1683 20,587 2096 1684 23,202 1560 1685 23,222 2496 1686 22,609 1062 1687 21,460 1551 1688 22,921 1318 1689 23,502 1389 1690 21,461 778 1691 22,691 1241 1692 20,874 1592 1693 20,959 1164 1694 24,100 1683 1695 19,047 784 1696 18,638 196 1697 20,972 634 1698 20,183 1813 1699 20,795 890 1700 19,443 1031

Sydenham’s remarks throw some light on the smallpox of the several years. While the epidemic of 1667-68 was of a regular and mild type, that of 1670-72, which has fewer deaths in the bills, was of the type of black smallpox complicated with flux. The year 1674 has the highest figures yet reached; the type of the disease was confluent, and so severe that it “almost equalled the plague”; while the smallpox of the year 1681, with a still higher total, was “confluent of the worst kind.”

It is not easy to make out what the differences of “type” described by Sydenham depended on; but it may be hazarded that those who fell into smallpox in an otherwise unhealthy season would die in larger numbers, being weakened by antecedent disease, such as measles or epidemic diarrhoea, influenza or typhus fever. An epidemic of measles in the first six months of 1674 was most probably the reason of the great fatality of smallpox in the second half of that year (see the chapter on Measles). The high figures of smallpox mortality in 1681 followed two hot summers, unhealthy with infantile diarrhoea, and coincided with a third season unhealthy in the same way. The deaths by smallpox in the last week of August, 1681, reached the very high figure of 168, the next highest cause of death that week, and the highest the week after, being “griping in the guts,” or infantile diarrhoea. The smallpox of 1685 was more uniformly distributed over the months of the year, which was one of malignant typhus, the worst week for fever having 114 deaths (ending 29 Sept.), and the worst week for smallpox 99 deaths (ending 18 Aug.).

The deaths by smallpox in the London bills are the only 17th century figures of the disease. According to later experience, a high mortality in London in a certain year meant an epidemic general in England in that or the following year; and the same appears to have held good for the period following the Restoration. In the parish register of Taunton, a weaving town, the smallpox deaths are many in 1658 (“all the year,” which was one of agues and influenza), in 1670, 1677, and 1684 (“very mortal,” the year being noted for a very hot summer and for fevers and dysenteries[853]). The highest total of deaths in London to the end of the 17th century fell in 1681, which is known to have been a year of very fatal smallpox at Norwich[854] and at Halifax. Thoresby’s friend Heywood lost three children by it at the latter town in the epidemic of 1681, which does not appear to have visited Leeds. In 1689 Thoresby himself lost his two children at Leeds within a few days. In 1699 the epidemic returned, and he again lost two of the four children that had been born to him in the interval[855]. Similar calamities befell country houses, of which the following from the correspondence of a titled family in Cumberland is an instance:

“17th April, 1688,--Captaine Kirkby came hither, and told me that Mrs Skelton, my god-daughter, of Braithwaite, dyed the last week, and her two children, of the smallpockes[856].”

Rumours of “smallpox and other infectious disease” at Cambridge in the summer of 1674[857], and at Bath in the summer of 1675[858], threatened to interfere with the studies of the one place and the gaieties of the other.

Smallpox in London in 1694: the death of the Queen.

The epidemic of smallpox in London in 1694 was made memorable by the death of the queen. On 22 November Evelyn notes, “a very sickly time, especially the smallpox, of which divers considerable persons died”; on 29 December: “the smallpox increased exceedingly, and was very mortal,” the queen having died of it the day before. Queen Mary came of a stock to which smallpox had been peculiarly fatal, a brother and sister of her father, James II., having died of it at Whitehall in 1660. Some of the particulars of her illness and death come from bishop Burnet[859], who saw her in the first days of the attack and was about the Court until the end of it; the authentic medical details are by Dr Walter Harris, one of the physicians in attendance, who published them, by leave of his superiors, in order to meet the censures passed on the doctors “by learned men at a great distance[860].”

The symptoms of illness on the first day did not prevent the queen from going abroad; but, as she was still out of sorts at bedtime, she took a large dose of Venice treacle, a powerful diaphoretic which her former physician, the famous physiologist Dr Lower, had recommended her to take as often as she found herself inclined to a fever[861]. Finding no sweat to appear as usual, she took next morning a double quantity of it, but again without inducing the usual effect of perspiration. Up to that time she had not asked advice of the physicians. To this severe dosing with one of the most powerful alexipharmac or heating medicines, the malignant type of the ensuing smallpox was mainly ascribed by Harris, who was a follower of Sydenham and a partizan of the cooling regimen. On the third day from the initial symptoms the eruption appeared, with a very troublesome cough; the eruption came out in such a manner that the physicians were very doubtful whether it would prove to be smallpox or measles. On the fourth day the smallpox showed itself in the face and the rest of the body “under its proper and distinct form.” But on the sixth day, in the morning, the variolous pustules were changed all over her breast into the large red spots “of the measles”; and the erysipelas, or rose, swelled her whole face, the former pustules giving place to it. That evening many livid round petechiae appeared on the forehead above the eyebrows, and on the temples, which Harris says he had foretold in the morning. One physician said these were not petechiae, but sphacelated spots; but next morning a surgeon proved by his lancet that they contained blood. During the night following the sixth day, Dr Harris sat up with the patient, and observed that she had great difficulty of breathing, followed soon after by a copious spitting of blood. On the seventh day the spitting of blood was succeeded by blood in the urine. On the eighth day the pustules on the limbs, which had kept the normal variolous character longest, lost their fulness, and changed into round spots of deep red or scarlet colour, smooth and level with the skin, like the stigmata of the plague. Harris observed about the region of the heart one large pustule filled with matter, having a broad scarlet circle round it like a burning coal, under which a great deal of extravasated blood was found when the body was examined after death. Towards the end, the queen slumbered sometimes, but said she was not refreshed thereby. At last she lay silent for some hours; and some words that came from her shewed, says Burnet, that her thoughts had begun to break. She died on the 28th of December, at one in the morning, in the ninth day of her illness.

The case of Queen Mary was one of discrete smallpox turning to the haemorrhagic form; and it had from first to last the most striking resemblance to that of her uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, in September, 1660[862]. The smallpox, says Burnet, came out, but the pustules “sunk so that there was no hope of raising them”; and in sinking they turned to livid spots or blotches. It is quite possible that the repeated doses of Venice treacle at the outset, which failed in their usual effect of inducing sweat, may have had something to do with the result, as Dr Harris certainly believed and afterwards publicly said with the leave of his superiors. But the queen, with eminent qualities of mind and heart, was not physically of good constitution. She was one of those children of James II. whom Willis had brusquely pronounced, some twenty-five years before, to be affected with mala stamina vitae; and her father’s brother, the Duke of Gloucester, who was not treated in the same way, and, by one account, not treated at all, died in exactly the same kind of haemorrhagic smallpox[863].

Circumstances of the great Epidemic in 1710.

For fifteen years after the year of Queen Mary’s death by haemorrhagic smallpox, there was comparatively little of the disease in London. In seven of the years the deaths were counted by hundreds, while the average of the whole period from 1695 to 1710, which included the years of Marlborough’s campaigns, was unaccountably low. There was a corresponding lull in the fever mortality in London; and as precisely the same kind of lull took place both in fever and smallpox during the next great war with France a century after, it may seem as if a state of war, instead of spreading infectious disease as it did in the countries where the war raged, had the effect in England of reducing it. The period of comparative immunity came to an end, both for fever and smallpox, with the great epidemic of each disease in 1710, in which year smallpox cut off 3138 in London and “great numbers in Norwich[864].” In 1714 there was another severe epidemic of smallpox in London, again in company with one of fever, and thereafter a high average for many years.

Smallpox deaths in London, 1701-1720.

Deaths from Deaths from Year smallpox all causes

1701 1099 20,471 1702 311 19,481 1703 398 20,720 1704 1501 22,684 1705 1095 22,097 1706 721 19,847 1707 1078 21,600 1708 1687 21,291 1709 1024 21,800 1710 3138 24,620 1711 915 19,833 1712 1943 21,198 1713 1614 21,057 1714 2810 26,589 1715 1057 22,232 1716 2427 24,436 1717 2211 23,446 1718 1884 26,523 1719 3229 28,347 1720 1442 25,454

The marked increase of smallpox deaths in 1710 and 1714, after an interval of low or moderate annual mortalities, caused the same cry to be raised as in the Restoration period, namely, that the medical treatment was to blame. Lynn, writing in 1714, says that many complaints were made of the destructiveness of smallpox in the epidemic four years before (1710), and of “the great want of better help, care or advice therein[865].” Woodward also ascribed the great increase of smallpox fatalities from 1710 onwards to erroneous treatment[866]. All the lives that might have been saved by better medical treatment or by more assiduous visiting of the sick would, in the then circumstances of the London populace, have made little difference to the bills of mortality. The causes that made fever so mortal in the same years were in great part the causes that made smallpox mortal, the former chiefly among those in the prime or maturity of life, the latter chiefly among the children. London had nearly reached its maximum of overcrowding; its population advanced but little for a good many years, and its mortality from all causes was so great that the numbers were only kept up by a constant recruit from the country. The necessity of doing something for the health of the poorer classes was felt, but nothing adequate was done or could be done[867]. So far as concerned the richer classes, they incurred constant danger of smallpox infection. In one of those fatal years, probably 1720, when there was smallpox among persons of quality in London, the Duchess of Argyll wrote to the Countess of Bute, to congratulate her on the birth of a daughter and on having two fine boys in her family already, “and he that has had the smallpox as good as two, so mortal as that distemper has been this year in town was never known[868].”

The domestics also of great houses frequently caught smallpox and spread it, a trouble which gave occasion at length, in 1746, to the first Smallpox Hospital for the admission of such of them as brought subscribers’ letters. Before that it had been the practice of the rich to send their domestics to private houses kept by nurses[869].

It was in these circumstances, and for the benefit of the upper classes and their domestics, that a project of getting through smallpox on easy terms was brought to the notice of London society in 1721.

Inoculation brought into England.

The first that was heard in England of engrafting the smallpox was through a communication by Dr Timoni, a Greek of Constantinople, to Dr Woodward, Gresham professor of physic, who had the paper printed in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society[870]. After a statement that “the Circassians, Georgians and other Asiatics” had brought the practice to Constantinople, and that it had been followed there for forty years by “the Turks and others” (statements never confirmed but on inquiry contradicted by those who knew), he proceeds to matters more within his own competence. During these eight years past “thousands” of subjects have been inoculated, and the value of the practice has now been put beyond all suspicion and doubt. The practice is to take fluid smallpox matter from the pustules of a discrete case of the natural disease, and convey it warm in a stopped phial to the scene of inoculation. A few punctures with a three-edged surgeon’s needle are made in any of the fleshy parts (but preferably over the muscles of the arm or forearm) until the blood comes; a drop of the fluid matter of smallpox is then to be mixed with the blood, and the inoculated part to be protected by a walnut shell bound over it. The symptoms that follow are very slight, some being scarce sensible that they are ill. The pocks that ensue are for the most part distinct, few, and scattered; commonly ten or twenty break out; now and then the patient may have only two or three; few have a hundred. The matter is hardly a thick pus, as in the common sort, but a thinner kind of sanies. There are some in whom no pustules appear except at the points of insertion, where purulent tubercles arise; yet these have never had the smallpox afterwards in their whole lives, though they have consorted with persons having it. On one occasion fifty were inoculated together, and of these four developed smallpox which was nearly confluent; but there was a suspicion that they must have been already infected by contagion. Timoni had never observed any mischievous accident from this incision hitherto; reports of such had sometimes spread abroad among the vulgar, “yet having gone on purpose to the houses whence such rumours have arisen I have found the whole to be absolutely false.” But, to keep nothing back, he will mention two fatalities of children inoculated; both of them were cases of hereditary lues with marasmus, and it was about the fortieth day from their inoculation that death ensued. The rest of Timoni’s paper is printed in the original Latin, being devoted to a theory of engrafting which afterwards passed current:--one attack of smallpox secures from a second, a mild attack serves as well as a severe, as also in the natural way, the reason being that smallpox, in whatever degree, causes a fermentation of the mass of the blood.

A year after this, in 1715, there was published in London An Essay on External Remedies, of which the 37th chapter was “Of the Variolae or Small Pox, the manner of ingrafting or giving them, and of their Cure.” The author was Peter Kennedy, Chir. Med., a Scot of good but impoverished family, who had spent several years in various parts of Europe visiting the schools of medicine and surgery, and had found his way to Constantinople[871]. His account of the engrafting of smallpox, which he had seen or heard of there, differs somewhat from that of Timoni, whom he just refers to: “Dr Timoni, a Grecian who resides there, had taken or followed this same method with his two sisters a little before my arrival at Constantinople.”

Kennedy says that engrafting the smallpox was practised in the Peloponnesus or Morea, “and at this present time is very much used both in Turkey and Persia, where they give it in order to prevent its more severe effects by the early knowledge of its coming; as also probably to prevent them being troubled with it a second time.” In Persia, however, the smallpox was taken internally in a dose of dried powder. In Constantinople the matter was inserted at scarifications upon the forehead, wrists, and ankles. After eight or ten days the smallpox came forward in a kindly manner, and not nearly so numerous as if naturally taken. “The greatest objection commonly proposed is, whether or not it hinders the patient from being infected a second time. But, in answer to this, it is advanced that we do rarely or never find any to have been troubled with this distemper twice in the same manner or the same fulness of malignity”--i.e. we rarely find this in the natural way.

Kennedy’s object was, not to recommend the engrafting of smallpox in England, but to show how easily distempers or contagions, “as well as medicines,” may be communicated to the blood from the surface of the body: “and this is more confirmed by some of the country people in Italy, in the more remote parts from towns, so also in some parts of the highlands of Scotland, where they infect their children by rubbing them with a kindly pock, as they term it.”

Meanwhile Timoni’s essay in the Philosophical Transactions had stirred up Sir Hans Sloane to make farther inquiries[872]. He applied to the British consul at Smyrna, Dr Sherrard, who was fortunately able to get information at first hand from an old Smyrna colleague, Dr Pylarini, consul for Venice, who had practised inoculation at Constantinople in the first years of the century. Pylarini, who had retired to Venice, was induced to draw up an account of what he knew of the beginnings and original methods of engrafting, which was printed at Venice, with a dedication to Sherrard, in 1715, and at once copied into the Philosophical Transactions[873]. This, the most trustworthy account of the Constantinople practice, ignores the earlier essay of Timoni altogether.

Pylarini carries the authentic history of the practice at Constantinople back to the year 1701. Its history before that was obscure; but it is most certain, he says, that it began in Greece, more particularly in Thessaly, and crept gradually from place to place until it reached Constantinople, where it attracted little notice for several years, being rarely practised and only among the lower class. A noble Greek having spoken of it to him in 1701, with a view to the protection of his children from the epidemic then raging, Pylarini had to confess his entire ignorance of it, but being at the Greek’s house four days after he there met a Greek woman who expounded the practice clearly in detail and gave him many instances of persons who had gone through it safely. Pylarini inquired into some of these cases and found them to be genuine; but in that great city he could not search them all out. Soon after this interview, the woman came and operated on the four children of the rich Greek, of whom the three younger had a very mild disease, but the eldest a severe attack, which nearly cost her life. Many other rich Greek families followed suit, so that, says Pylarini in 1715, “every one wishes to have the advantage of transplantation.” He adds, however, that “the Turks have hitherto neglected it.” He confirms Timoni in saying that the pocks raised by transplantation were nearly always of the distinct kind and few in number--ten to twenty or thirty, rarely a hundred, very rarely two hundred,--although he does not reach Timoni’s minimum of “two or three,” or the pustules only at the punctured spots.

These accounts from Constantinople, printed in London in 1714, 1715 and 1716 were regarded, says Douglass, “as virtuoso amusements[874]” until the spring of 1721, when inoculation began to be tried tentatively in London, and in a bold and confident way during the very same weeks at Boston, New England.

Dr Pitcairn, of Edinburgh, had received an account of inoculation from Bellini, an Italian physician, who had read Pylarini’s essay. Douglass says that Pitcairn “was very fond of it, but could not persuade himself to venture it in practice[875].” Sometime in March, 1721, one à Castro had issued in London a pamphlet on inoculation, full of inaccuracies and of no moment[876]. In a lecture on the plague given at the College of Physicians on the 17th of April, 1721, Dr Walter Harris made a passing reference to the Constantinople practice of engrafting smallpox[877]; and shortly after that, or shortly before, the Lady Mary Wortley Montagu set about having her younger child inoculated in London, her elder child having been inoculated at Constantinople three or four years before. This lady had, in 1717, accompanied her husband as ambassador to the Porte, where the embassy remained about a year. During her residence at Pera she heard of the Greek practice of engrafting or transplanting the smallpox; the French ambassador had said in pleasantry to her: “They take the smallpox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters in other countries.” According to her information, there was a set of old women who made it their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another to know if any of their family has a mind to have the smallpox; they make parties for this purpose, and when they are met (commonly fifteen or sixteen together) the old woman comes with a nut-shell full of matter. Every year thousands undergo the operation (but according to the information of the British embassy in 1755 not more than twenty in a year, which may perhaps mean that it had fallen into disuse[878]). There is no example of anyone that has died of it. She intended to have it performed upon her little son, and had patriotic visions of bringing “this useful invention” into fashion in England. Accordingly her boy, aged five, was inoculated in March, 1717/18, by a Greek woman, under the direction of Maitland, a Scots surgeon who attended the embassy. The child suffered very little inconvenience and, according to Maitland, “had about an hundred pox all upon his body.”

Lady Mary returned to London in 1718; but it was not until some three years after, in the spring of 1721, that she stirred the matter again. Whether it was that she herself was the cause of the talk about inoculation in London in April, 1721, or that she merely had the subject brought back to her mind by the essay of à Castro, the lecture by Harris, or by what others were saying, she sent sometime in April for Maitland, who had assisted at the inoculation of her elder child at Pera, with a view to having the operation done on the younger, who was now four or five years old. In a week or two Maitland found suitable smallpox matter and engrafted the child on both arms; on the tenth night she was a little feverish, but the smallpox began to appear next morning and in a few days she was perfectly recovered. Three physicians of the College visited the case, as well as several ladies and other persons of distinction. One of those physicians, Dr Keith, resolved to have a boy of his own, aged six, engrafted, which was done by Maitland on both arms on the 11th of May, 1721, five ounces of blood having been drawn before the operation.

Among Lady Mary’s intimates was the Princess of Wales, who became interested in the project for the sake of her own children[879]. She proposed to the king (George I.) that he should remit the capital sentence of six Newgate felons on condition that they would submit to be inoculated. The king consulted Sir Hans Sloane, who applied to Dr Terry of Enfield, formerly in practice at Constantinople. Terry’s report was that not more than one in eight hundred had died from the effects of inoculation in Turkey. The upshot was that the six Newgate convicts, three men and three women, were inoculated by Maitland on the 9th of August, 1721, in the presence of several eminent physicians, surgeons, Turkey merchants, and others. The matter was inserted on both arms and on the right leg of each, and the insertion was repeated on the arms of five of them three days after. Dr Mead, having heard that the Chinese procured smallpox by stuffing the matter up their noses, got a pardon for a seventh convict under sentence of death, a young woman, on condition that she would submit to a pledget of cotton dipped in smallpox matter being inserted in her nostril: it produced, besides a fair smallpox, much severe pain along the Schneiderian membrane and the frontal sinuses, and was not thought a satisfactory experiment. The trial upon the other six was reassuring; they all escaped with the slightest possible eruption; “the most that anyone had was sixty pustules.”

The next step was on the part of the Princess of Wales, who procured the inoculation of six charity children of the parish of St James’s. Four of them had smallpox “very favourably”; one did not have it at all, “having evidently had the smallpox before”; and the sixth had not only the prolonged effects of inoculation, but also an attack of the natural smallpox, of a favourable kind, eleven weeks after. This experiment was followed by the inoculation of five more hospital children, from eight to fourteen weeks old, of whom three had no effects, their bodies being “morbid.” The Princess of Wales was at length resolved in April, 1722, to run the risk of the operation on her two daughters, the princess Amelia, aged eleven, and the princess Caroline, aged nine, being urged by the fact that another daughter, the princess Anne, afterwards princess royal of Orange, had just had the natural smallpox so dangerously that Sloane feared for her life. The inoculations were done on the 19th of April, by serjeant-surgeon Amyand under the direction of Sir Hans Sloane. What passed between that physician and the king shows at once the apprehension of danger from a novel operation and the temper in which it was undertaken:

“I told his Majesty,” says Sloane, “that it was impossible to be certain but that, raising such a commotion in the blood, there might happen dangerous accidents not foreseen; but he replied that such might, and had happened, to persons who had lost their lives by bleeding in a pleurisy, and taking physic in any distemper, let never so much care be taken. I told his Majesty that I thought this to be the same case; and the matter was concluded upon, and succeeded as usual, without any danger during the operation, or the least ill symptom or disorder since.”

The news of the successful inoculation of the two princesses had hardly time to create a vogue for the practice, when there came word, in the same month of April, of the death by inoculation of the Earl of Sunderland’s son, aged two and a half, and of Lord Bathurst’s footman, aged nineteen.

Meanwhile, in the autumn of 1721, Maitland had gone down to Hertford, where smallpox would seem to have been more rife than elsewhere, and had done several inoculations. In the family of a Quaker, near Hertford, an infant of two and a half years developed no more than twenty pustules, which lasted only three or four days; but six domestics of the house, four men and two maids, “who all in their turn were wont to hug and caress this child whilst under the operation and the pustules were out upon her” (Maitland), caught natural smallpox in varying degrees of severity, some of them having a narrow escape, while one of the maids died.

The question that people were really anxious about was the immediate risk to the inoculated; and as there were occasional fatalities, especially to the age of childhood, inoculation made little progress. In the first year of its trial in England it was done on the greatest scale by Dr Nettleton, of Halifax, whose practice remains for more particular notice. Apart from his cases, which numbered sixty-one, the following are all that were known in England from the month of April, 1721, to the end of 1722[880]:

By Mr Amyand, surgeon, London 17 " Mr Maitland, surgeon, London and elsewhere 57 " Dr Dover, London 4 " Mr Weymish, London 3 " Rev. Mr Johnson, London 3 " Dr Brady, Portsmouth 4 " Messrs Smith and Dymes, Chichester 13 " Mr Waller, Gosport 3 " A woman at Leicester 8 " Dr Williams, Haverfordwest 6 " Two others near Haverfordwest 2 " Dr French, Bristol 1

The inoculations in all England in 1723 reached the considerable total of 292; but in 1724 they were no more than 40, being distributed among the various operators as follows:

Amyand, London 11 Maitland, London 4 Pemberton, London 3 Cheselden, London 1 Pawlett, London 1 Howman and Offley, Norwich 3 Beeston, Ipswich 3 Lake, Sevenoaks 3 Goodwin, Winchester 1 Mrs Ringe, Shaftesbury 2 Skinner, Ottery St Mary 6 Tolcher, Plymouth 2

In the next two years, 1725-26, Amyand and Maitland had respectively 66 and 37 cases in London, the other known cases in London being 30. Maitland had also 16 cases in Scotland. Sir Thomas Lyttelton had 4 at Hagley. All the known cases in those two years, including Nettleton’s at Halifax, came to 256, with four deaths of somewhat conspicuous persons. In 1727 the inoculations fell to 87, and in 1728 to 37. The total in eight years was 897, with 17 deaths. For the next ten or twelve years none were heard of in Britain. The check, however, was only temporary. The practice revived, extended among the rich, at length reached the common people in some counties, and gave rise to important developments of scientific doctrine. The greater these developments the more interesting the origins, which we shall now examine.

The popular Origins of Inoculation.

Six years before the Greek inoculation was tried in London, Kennedy, the travelled Scot, had compared the Constantinople practice with one that he knew of in his native country: “So also in some parts of the highlands of Scotland they infect their children by rubbing them with a kindly pock.” This indigenous Scots practice was confirmed by Professor Monro, the first, of Edinburgh, in 1765:

“When the smallpox appears favourable in one child of a family, the parents generally allow commerce of their other children with the one in the disease; nay, I am assured that in some of the remote highland parts of this country it has been an old practice of parents whose children have not had the smallpox to watch for an opportunity of some child having a good mild smallpox, that they may communicate the disease to their own children by making them bedfellows to those in it, and by tying worsted threads wet with the pocky matter round their wrists.”

And, to make it clear that this was not the same as the method afterwards used of procuring the smallpox, he adds that the latter was not known in Scotland until Maitland introduced it, in 1726[881]. In Wales the curious practice of buying the smallpox was found to be indigenous[882]. One young woman in a village near Milford Haven testified in 1722 that, some eight or nine years before, she had bought twenty pocky scabs of one in the smallpox, and had held them in her hand, with the result that she sickened with the infection in ten or twelve days and had upwards of thirty large pustules in her face and elsewhere--at least ten more than she had bargained for. A schoolboy of Oswestry, who had since become an attorney and must have known the nature of an affidavit, bought, as he positively affirmed, for three-pence of a certain lady twelve pustules of smallpox (at a farthing each), and rubbed the matter into his hand with the back of his pocket-knife; a sore remained on the hand as well as pockpits in his face.

There was nothing remarkable in these methods of procuring smallpox except an occasional element of superstition or freak. It was not unusual in England for educated persons to let smallpox go through all their children after it had attacked one of them, just as it is regarded an economy by many to have done with the measles. On 15 September, 1685, Evelyn travelling to Portsmouth in the company of Pepys, stopped to make a call at Bagshot at the house of Mrs Graham, a former maid of honour to the queen. “Her eldest son was now sick of the smallpox, but in a likely way to recover, and others of her children ran about and among the infected, which she said she let them do on purpose that they might whilst young pass that fatal disease she fancied they were to undergo one time or other, and that this would be for the best.” It would be for the best because children from five to ten or fifteen (the older writers said even infants) ran far less risk from the attack than at the higher ages, and seldom died of it.

Similar means of procuring smallpox for children were used in other countries. La Motraye, who rode through the Caucasus in 1712, was told that children, to give them the smallpox, were placed in the same bed with one who had it, the mothers sometimes carrying them a whole day’s journey to any village where they heard of someone being attacked. He professes also to have seen a child of four inoculated with smallpox matter at five places (the region of the heart, the pit of the stomach, the navel, the right wrist and the left foot) by an old woman who used “three needles tied together[883].” The idea of barter was widely spread in those practices of procuring smallpox on favourable terms. We have seen that the Welsh had it. Bruce found it in his travels to the sources of the Nile[884]. African negroes are known also to have carried with them to the West Indies the practice of “buying the yaws,” which is also a contagious and inoculable disease of the skin. The earliest medical notices of buying the smallpox come from Poland in 1671 and 1677. A case having been published in the Miscellanea Curiosa of the Imperial German Academy, in which a quartan ague was alleged to have been got rid of by transferring it to a brute animal, Dr Vollgnad, of Warsaw wrote: “There is a similar superstition not uncommon among our nurses, who instruct the children under their charge to buy for a few farthings a certain number of pocks from one infected with the smallpox, in the belief that those who purchase that disagreeable commodity will be affected with a more scanty eruption and will be the sooner freed from the disease and with the less risk[885].” Six years after, Dr Simon Schultz, of Thorn, physician to the king of Poland, wrote that the same practice of buying the smallpox obtained also in that part of Poland: “What I have first to remark,” he says, “is that, in most cases if not in all, those infants that buy of the infected (whether in their proper persons or through others), while they may have few pocks, yet fall into a more serious illness than otherwise (gravius reliquis decumbant): which I remember to have happened to my younger brother Johannes, to say nothing of others[886].”

These early references to buying the smallpox were made à propos of the 17th century practice of sympathetic transference of disease from one to another, or from man to brute, or to plants, stones, holes in the ground, etc.[887], and were published as instances of “a similar superstition.” The case of a transferred ague which called them forth had been sent to the Curiosa of the Academy by Thomas Bartholin, the celebrated anatomist of Copenhagen. Ten years before, he had written in the Theatrum Sympatheticum Auctum[888] (to which also Dr Sylvester Rattray, of Glasgow, and Sir Kenelm Digby contributed): “I disclose a great mystery of nature. The transplantation of diseases is a stupendous remedy, by means of which the ailments of this or that person are transferred to a brute animal, or to another person, or to some inanimate thing”--various methods being instanced. He returned to the subject in 1673 under the title of the Transplantation of Disease, the name by which Pylarini first described the engrafting of smallpox[889]. It was the transfusion of blood, a foible of the time, especially at the Royal Society in London, which set Bartholin to his second essay. He expected that health, in the one case, or disease in the other, might be transplanted to another’s veins with the blood. It would be an incomparable addition to the amenities of life to be able to draw off in a syringe the diseased blood of a familiar friend and bring it to a better coction by one’s own juices[890].

Bartholin discovered the germ of these scientific developments in the scape-goat of the Israelites and in the miracle of the swine of Gadara[891]. In his own doctrine of transplantation, others in turn have found the germ of inoculation, Pylarini having actually adopted the 17th century name, with the proviso that the transplantation of smallpox was not sympathetic but res vera mera pura. The older idea of transplanting smallpox was to get rid of it. “Some persons in the smallpox,” says Slatholm, of Buntingford, in 1657, “keep a sheep or a wether beside them in the chamber, those animals being apt to receive the envenomed matter and to draw it to themselves[892].” The developments of folk-lore are erratic; one thing leads to another, but not necessarily in a logical sequence. Transference had somehow become the inoculation which Pylarini first found in the practice of a woman from the Morea or from Bosnia, being still in its superstitious stage. The woman drew blood and rubbed the smallpox matter into the bleeding points; but whether she did so with a physiological or a symbolical intent we shall probably never know. She told Dr Le Duc[893], who submitted to inoculation at her hands, that she had received the secret from the Virgin; during the operation she muttered prayers to the Virgin, and, on finishing it, requested an oblation of two wax candles to be sent to the shrine of the Virgin her patroness in Thessaly. She pricked the skin of the face at the four points which are touched in making the sign of the Cross, and at the points of the hands and feet which are pierced by the nails in the Crucifix. Voltaire says that Lady Mary Wortley Montagu’s chaplain objected to inoculation because it was an un-Christian practice. He must have been strangely ill-informed if he did so; for at Constantinople it was practised by the Christians only and not at all by the Mussulmans, who, by Kennedy’s account, were somewhat doubtful of its utility.

Pylarini and Timoni very properly dropped the symbolism of the Greek woman, and inserted the matter at any convenient spot, choosing usually the skin of the forearm. Therewith they took the practice under scientific protection. At the same time Pylarini was careful to explain that this transference of disease, although he called it by Bartholin’s old name of “transplantation,” was a real thing, and in no way akin to the sympathetic or magnetic transference whose name it bore. A real thing it undoubtedly was: a visible effect did follow in most cases--some ten, or twenty or thirty watery pimples on the skin. The effect being thus real, Pylarini and Timoni laid down at the outset the doctrine that the smallpox matter inserted in minute quantity was a ferment, which produced an ebullition in the mass of the blood. The common people, who had been procuring the smallpox for their children in other ways than by puncture and insertion, also knew that the transplanting was a real thing: it was smallpox, and nothing else, that they designed to procure, peradventure it might be mild smallpox.

While Pylarini used the name of Transplantation, Timoni used the name of Inoculation. Both names were figures of speech taken from the gardener’s art. Inoculation, or ineying, was a form of grafting, the taking of the “eye” or resting-bud of one kind of fruit-tree and fixing it upon the stock of another kind. The effect of a graft upon a fruit-tree is one of the most remarkable in nature: the incorporation of a bud from a nearly allied species at a particular part of the stock causes the whole tree to assume some characters of the other tree, the change being greatest in the fruit. An effect at once so real, so useful, and so familiar could not fail to take hold of the imagination. Accordingly we find the ineying or grafting of trees used in a correct figure, as in Hamlet’s “for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it.” Between a fruit-tree modified as to its fruit by the permanent incorporation of a strange shoot, and an animal body infected of purpose with diseased matter, there is no very exact analogy. Figurative names, as well as metaphors, are apt to be mixed ideas. Correct science avoids the one vice, as correct style avoids the other. Transplantation had in any case too many fanciful associations to be retained as the name for the new practice in smallpox; inoculation, on the other hand, was still unspoiled as a medical term, while its wonderful effects were obvious in the familiar art of the gardener.

In all the developments or modifications of this practice, the intention was still to procure the smallpox by art. The idea of antidote or counter-poison did not enter into it at all. Yet the idea of a counter-poison was quite familiar, as in the following passage from a medical writer of the time of James I.[894]:

“But here a great doubt and controversie may arise: whether, as sometimes we see one poyson to be the expeller of another poyson, so in like sort, whether one stinking savour, and graveolent or ill odour, and vapour of some pestilent breath or ayre, may bee the proper amulet or preservative against any such poyson, to bee hanged about the necke: for at this time let it bee granted (to please some) that tabacco is of no good smell or sent, and that it is a little poysonous. For wee see some daily in the time of any generall or grievous infection of the plague, for avoidance thereof, and for preservation sake, will smell unto the stinking savour of some loathsome privie, or filthy camerine and sinke; and this they make reckoning is one of the best counter-poysons that may be devised against any pestiferous infection: for their nature being inured to these, they will afterwards not seeme to passe for any pestilent malignitie of the ayre, and dare boldly adventure without any prejudice, or impeachment to their health, into any place or companie whatsoever. And to perswade us the more easily to this, they object to us for example sake, those women that spend their dayes continually in hospitals for pilgrims, and for poore travellers, who are accustomed to every abominable savour of the sicke; whereof we shall never see, or very seldome, any of them either to be taken or die with any pestiferous infection though never so dangerous.”

While he admits these to be instances of counter-poisons having a prophylactic effect against epidemic sickness, he denies, what some had maintained, that “either the French Pockes or the quartan ague is a Superseder of the plague[895].”

Results of the first Inoculations; the Controversy in England.

Thus far we have traced the rise of inoculation as an idea. It was one way of procuring the smallpox, which had gradually arisen out of other fanciful or real modes of infection. The populace for long retained a preference for giving their children the smallpox by exposing them to the contagion of it; in the last quarter of the 18th century, Haygarth found the common people of Chester still following the earlier practice of inviting the smallpox in the natural way[896]. It is even more remarkable that Huxham, the ablest epidemiologist in England during the first period of inoculation, preferred that children should take the disease naturally, believing that they might be so “prepared” to receive the seeds of it by the breath as to have always a sufficiently mild but effective dose of it. Still, the insertion of smallpox matter at a puncture or wound of the arm appeared to many to have advantages over the natural way. In London it was taken up by the Court, by the Court doctors, and by the Royal Society, the leading physicians in favour of it having been Sloane, Mead, Arbuthnot and Jurin. It appears that Freind, a more learned physician than any of these, was adverse to it. It was to him that Wagstaffe, physician to St Bartholomew’s Hospital, dedicated a hostile essay on inoculation when it was new; and Freind himself brought into his History of Physic, published in 1725-26, the following sarcastic passage upon John of Gaddesden, whom he regarded as a high-placed charlatan:

“He had an infallible plaster and caustick for a rupture; could cure a cancer from an outward cause with red dock. And if he had lived in our day, he would, I don’t question, have been at the head of the Inoculators; and in this case the position he lays down, contrary to the experience of the best physicians, that one may have the smallpox twice, might have served him in good stead for salvo’s upon many occasions.”

--which means that, in Freind’s opinion, the inoculated smallpox was no security against a subsequent attack in the natural way[897].

Wagstaffe, in his printed letter to Freind, sums up the objections to inoculated smallpox as follows:

“Some have had the distemper not at all, others to a small degree, others the worst sort, and some have died of it. I have given instances of those who have had it after inoculation in the common way; and consequently as it is hazardous, so ’twill neither answer the main design of preventing the distemper for the future. I have considered what the effects may be of inoculating on an ill habit of body, and how destructive it may prove to spread a distemper that is contagious: and how widely at length the authors in this subject disagree among themselves, and how little they have seen of the practice:--all which seem to me to be just and necessary consequences of these new-fangled notions, as well as convincing reasons for the disuse of the practice[898].”

These objections were shared by several, including Blackmore, Clinch, and Massey, the apothecary to Christ’s Hospital.

On the other hand Jurin, who took the lead in defending inoculation, reduced the issues to two[899]:

1. Whether the distemper given by inoculation be an effectual security to the patient against his having the smallpox afterwards in the natural way?

2. Whether the hazard of inoculation be considerably less than that of the natural smallpox?

These questions, thus put forward as of equal moment, did not receive equally full handling. Jurin dismissed the former question in a brief sentence: “Our experience, so far as it goes, has hitherto strongly favoured the affirmative side”--a conditional assent which became an absolute affirmative after a short time. Having thus disposed of the question which has all the scientific or pathological interest, he turned with his whole energy to give a precise arithmetical demonstration of what no one could doubt, namely, that inoculated smallpox was many times less fatal than smallpox in the natural way,--having got the idea of such a comparison from Nettleton as well as a large part of the statistics necessary for it. Jurin’s statement of the questions at issue, and his manner of answering them, became the received mode, so much so that even towards the end of the eighteenth century one finds capable medical men contrasting the almost infinitesimal mortality from inoculation, as then practised, with the high mortality from the natural smallpox, as if that were the question at issue. The permanent impression in favour of inoculation made by Jurin’s arithmetic was shown a generation later, when Dr George Baker pronounced an eulogy upon him in the Harveian Oration before the College of Physicians in 1761[900]. “It was his special glory,” said the orator, to have “confirmed the practice of inoculation by his experiments and his authority.” There was only one experiment, and it was a remarkable one. The Princess of Wales had begged George I. to pardon six Newgate criminals under sentence of death on condition that they would submit to be inoculated. It was assumed that those six had not had smallpox in infancy or childhood, and Sloane, relating the facts in a letter to Ranby some years after, does in fact call them “six condemned criminals who had not had the smallpox[901].” The concurrence of six persons belonging to the criminal classes and about to be hanged together in Newgate, of whom none had already gone through the common infantile trouble of London and other large towns, was singular. They were inoculated, and it was found that they had escaped the death penalty on very easy terms: John Alcock, aged twenty, had most smallpox, but even he had “not more than sixty pustules”; Richard Evans, aged nineteen, had none, but his antecedents were inquired into, and then it was found that he had had smallpox in gaol only six months before. One of the others, a woman named Elizabeth, was chosen for the grand crucial experiment. Sir Hans Sloane and Dr Steigerthal clubbed together to pay her expenses to Hertford where smallpox was then very prevalent; thither Elizabeth went and ministered among the sick; she lay in bed with one in the smallpox, or she lay in bed with various in the smallpox; at all events she exposed herself to contagion and did not catch it, according to certificates from the woman she lodged with and from another person, which certificates were published with much formality and lawyer-like precision[902]. This was the single experiment in which Jurin had any part. What were the chances of her having had smallpox in childhood? What were the chances of her knowing anything about it, or telling the truth about it if she knew? (One of her fellows in the experiment upon the pardoned convicts had smallpox only six months before, but the fact was not discovered until it was wanted.) What were the chances of her taking smallpox at Hertford, supposing that she had hitherto escaped it? These questions do not appear to have been debated[903].

Such was the experiment by which Jurin “confirmed the practice of inoculation.” As for his authority, it was doubtless considerable; but it was more as a follower of the Newtonian mathematics than as a pathologist or physician, and most of all as one of the secretaries of the Royal Society in the last years of Newton’s presidency, that he spoke with authority[904]. His influence, such as it was, availed little. The practice of inoculation fell into total disuse in England after a few years’ trial, so that in 1728 Jurin himself was prepared to see it “exploded.”

The principal reason of inoculation having been tried upon decreasing numbers in England after the first year or two, and of its having been dropped absolutely for a time, was the death of some persons of good family, both adults and children--a sacrifice of life which could not but seem gratuitous. Those deaths were not from the fulness of the eruption but from anomalous effects. When inoculation began in London in 1721, it was according to the Greek method of inserting a minute quantity of matter at two or more places. In the case of the Newgate felons, Maitland had reason to do the inoculations over again after three days, being dissatisfied with the appearance of the original punctures. They are admitted to have had a slight disease (the man who had most had only some sixty pustules on his whole body), so that Dr Wagstaffe, who went to see them, said in his letter to Dr Freind: “Upon the whole, Sir, in the cases mentioned, there was nothing like the smallpox, either in symptoms, appearances, advance of the pustules, or the course of the distemper.” Many of the other early cases had likewise a slight eruption; when numbers are given, the pocks are “not more than eleven to eighteen” (as in Maitland’s case of Prince Frederick at Hanover in 1724), or “not above twenty in all upon her” (as in Maitland’s case of a child near Hertford, in 1721). Of the first six charity children inoculated, one had no eruption; of the next five, three had no smallpox from inoculation. The cases that died after inoculation during the first seven years of the practice--seventeen in England and Scotland and two in Dublin, most of them children--owed the fatal result for the most part to some peculiar prostration or lowered vitality, in two cases actually to pyaemia, the eruption being kept back altogether or but feebly thrown out[905]. This was the danger of arbitrarily procuring the smallpox which Dr Schultz remarked upon in 1677, with reference to the Polish practice of “buying” the disease; most, if not all the cases known to him, although they may have had few pocks, yet fell into more serious illness (gravius reliquis decumbant). The risk of arbitrarily forcing infection upon a child at a time when it might not be ready for it, or in a position to deal with it in its blood, was afterwards recognized, and was provided against in the long and tedious preparation which the subject for inoculation had to undergo.

While those in England who followed Maitland in inoculating after the Greek fashion produced for the most part an infinitesimal number of pustules or watery pimples, there were others at a distance from London who inoculated by a method of their own and gave their patients a more real smallpox. The chief of these were Dr Thomas Nettleton of Halifax, and Dr Zabdiel Boylston, of Boston, New England[906]. Nettleton made a long incision through the whole thickness of the skin of one arm and of the opposite leg, and laid therein a small piece of cotton soaked in smallpox matter, which he secured in the wound with a plaister for twenty-four hours. Boylston says: “The Turkey way of scarifying and applying the nutshell &c., I soon left off, and made an incision through the true skin,” the rest also of his procedure being the same as Nettleton’s. And just as those two inoculators devised for themselves a more real method of giving the smallpox by insertion, taking means to ensure the absorption of the matter into the blood, so they procured in many cases, although not in all, an eruption of pustules on the skin which came near to being the same as that of natural smallpox of the average discrete type.

In the Boston practice, “the number of the pustules is not alike in all; in some they are very few; in others they amount to an hundred; yea in many they amount unto several hundreds, frequently unto more than what the accounts from the Levant say is usual there[907].” Nettleton’s account, which was printed in the same number of the Philosophical Transactions as that from New England, says of the pustules on the skin at large: “The number was very different: in some not above ten or twenty, most frequently from fifty to two hundred; and some have had more than could well be numbered, but never of the confluent sort.... They commonly come out very round and florid, and many times rose as large as any I have observed of the natural sort, going off with a yellow crust or scab as usual[908].”

The smallpox procured by inoculation in these English and American trials was thus a more real form of that disease than at Constantinople; compared with the number of pustules given by Timoni and Pylarini, the Boston and Halifax numbers are multiplied ten times.

Nettleton thus expressed his belief that inoculated smallpox saved from the natural disease, at the same time grounding that belief on the reality or substantial nature of the artificial disease:

“Some of those who have been inoculated, that are grown up, have afterwards attended others in the smallpox, and it has often happen’d that in families where some children have been inoculated, others have been afterwards seized in the natural way, and they have lain together in the same bed all the time; but we have not yet found that ever any had the distemper twice; neither is there any reason to suppose it possible, there being no difference that can be observed betwixt the natural and artificial sort, but only that in the latter the pustules are fewer in number, and all the rest of the symptoms are in the same proportion more favourable[909].”

Nettleton returned to the question of the reality of inoculated smallpox, which is the root of the whole matter, in his second letter, to Jurin[910]: “The question whether the distemper raised by inoculation is really the smallpox is not so much disputed now as it was at first.... There is usually no manner of difference to be observed betwixt the one sort and the other, when the number of pustules is nearly the same; but in both there are almost infinite degrees of the distemper according to the difference of that number. All the variation that can be perceived of the ingrafted smallpox from the natural is, that in the former the pustules are commonly fewer in number, and all the rest of the symptoms are in the same proportion more favourable. They exactly resemble what we call the distinct sort.... It will follow as a corollary, that those who have been inoculated are in no more danger of receiving the distemper again than those who have had it in the ordinary way. And this is also thus far confirmed by experience.”

It does not appear that Nettleton based so much upon the subsequent experience as upon the antecedent probability. Thus he says of some cases:

“These had the eruptions so imperfect as to leave me a little in doubt, but two of these have since been sufficiently try’d by being constantly with those who had the smallpox, without receiving any infection; which makes me inclined to believe they will always be secure from any danger. As to all the rest, neither I nor anybody else who saw them did in the least question that they had the true smallpox.”

Nettleton began his inoculations in and around Halifax during a considerable epidemic of smallpox in the winter of 1721-22, of which the following figures were collected by himself (as well as statistics for Leeds, Bradford, Rochdale and other places):

Cases Deaths

Halifax 276 43 Part of Halifax parish towards Bradford 297 59 Another part of Halifax parish 268 28

In the town of Halifax the smallpox was of a more favourable type than usual, whereas in Leeds at the same time (792 cases and 189 deaths) it was more than usually mortal. In the country round Halifax there was more smallpox than in the town; but the epidemic in general ceased in the spring of 1722. As the people mostly disliked the idea of inoculation, Nettleton did not urge it upon them, but inoculated only the children of those who favoured it. Down to the 22nd of April, 1722, he had inoculated about forty, with one death; at the date of 16 June, he had done fifteen more, his total to the end of 1722 being 61. In 1723 he did nineteen inoculations, in 1724 none, in 1725 and 1726 about forty (in an epidemic of 230 cases, and 28 deaths in Barstand Ripponden and another part of Halifax parish), and in writing to Hartley of Bury St Edmunds in 1730, he gave his total at that date as 119, from which it appears that he had ceased to inoculate after 1726. His name does not appear again in the controversy, and it is probable that he acquiesced in the tacit verdict against inoculation which Jurin himself, in 1728, seemed to think was imminent.

Besides this centre of inoculation in Yorkshire in the midst of epidemic smallpox, the only other of importance in the first trials of the practice was at Boston, New England. The smallpox epidemic there in 1721 was a very severe one. There had been no smallpox in Boston since 1702, so that a large part of the population were susceptible of it. The infection was brought by a ship from Barbados in the middle of April, 1721, and made slow progress at first, according to the following table of deaths from it[911]:

Deaths from Smallpox in Boston.

1721-1722

May 1 June 8 July 20 August 26 September 101 October 402 November 249 December 31 January 6 ---- Total 844

In the course of the epidemic some 5989 persons were attacked, or more than half the population (10,565). All the rest, save about 750, had been through the smallpox before. Inoculation played a very subordinate part amidst these dreadful scenes of smallpox. Its instigator was the Rev. Dr Cotton Mather, who had been shown by Dr Douglass the numbers of the Philosophical Transactions with Timoni’s and Pylarini’s papers in them. The reverend doctor “surreptitiously” employed Douglass’s rival, Dr Boylston, to begin inoculating, in July, 1721, or a few months after the first trials in London. Boylston inoculated 244, whites and negroes, and admitted the deaths of six of them, probably by inhaled infection[912]. But Douglass says:

“The precise number of those who dyed by inoculation in Boston, I am afraid will never be known because of the crowd of the sick and dead whilst inoculation prevailed most, the inoculator and relations inviolably keeping the secret.... Some porters who at that time were employed to carry the dead to their graves say that it was whispered, in sundry houses where the dead were carried from, that the person had been inoculated. I could name some who are suspected, but having only hearsay and conjectural evidence, I forbear to affront the surviving relations. I myself am certain of one more who died ‘after inoculation’ as they express it.”

He then gives the case, which was clearly one of the natural contagion of smallpox acquired at the same time as the inoculation. In the Charleston inoculations of 1738, which were also done in the midst of an epidemic, there is little doubt that the fatalities were mostly from natural smallpox which the inoculated infection had failed to anticipate or prevent. The inoculators were often in that dilemma with their fatal cases: either the inoculation had killed the patient or it had been powerless to keep off the contagion; sometimes they confess the former as an untoward accident, at other times they plead the latter, which appears to me to have been the more usual of the two in a time of epidemic smallpox[913].

Douglass, for all his bitterness against his rival Boylston, and his severity against the extravagant assertions and loose reasoning of the first inoculators, was far from denying the merits of inoculation, whether in theory or in practice. “We may confidently pronounce,” he says, “that those who have had a genuine smallpox by inoculation never can have the smallpox again in a natural way, both by reason and experience; but there are some who have had the usual feverish symptoms, a discharge by their incisions, with a few imperfect eruptions, that may be obnoxious to the smallpox,”--of which he gives instances. In like manner Nettleton, in Yorkshire, who took pains to make his smallpox a real thing, and succeeded in doing so as well as any inoculator ever did succeed, was persuaded that inoculated smallpox counted for a natural attack. He admitted only one failure, a case at Halifax which had been inoculated without an eruption ensuing and took smallpox by contagion a month after. Failures in England, in that sense, were fewer than the deaths directly from inoculation. The deaths were freely admitted, but any alleged failure of inoculation to ward off the natural smallpox was challenged, investigated, and denied, so that Mead, writing in 1747, declared that he knew of none. There were, however, a few cases recorded, which appear to be authentic. One of the six charity children inoculated at the instance of the Princess of Wales had taken natural smallpox twelve weeks after. The child of one Degrave, a surgeon, had a similar experience. Another familiar case was the son of a person of distinction, inoculated on 7 May, 1724, by the Rev. Mr Johnson.

On the 14th a rash came out, on the 15th there was fever, on the 16th, very little eruption to be seen and the fever gone, and on the 18th he was pronounced “secure.” On that day (18th May), his sister was inoculated in the same place, both children remaining together at the inoculator’s house until the 2nd of June, when the boy went home. For a day or two before the 8th of June the boy was ill, and on the 9th he began to have smallpox in the natural way, of a good sort, the disease keeping its natural course. He was supposed to have caught it from his sister, who was inoculated after his own protection was over, and was “very full of smallpox” until the 27th of May, her brother being with her[914].

Another case of failure, which must have been known to some at the time, was not published until some ten years after, when Deering brought it to light[915]:

“I was an eyewitness of the inoculation of a little boy, the child of Dr Craft, who is now a sugar-baker in the Savoy. He was inoculated by one Ahlers under the direction of Dr Steigerthal, the late king’s physician in ordinary; and notwithstanding the great care there was taken in the choice of the pus, had the confluent kind severely; and twelve months after had them naturally, and though a favourable sort, yet was very full.”

A boy aged three, the son of Mr Richards, M.P. for Bridport, was inoculated in 1743, and had fifty to sixty pocks which maturated and scabbed. About two years after (“one year ago”) he had smallpox again, the pustules numbering from 200 to 300; when the eruption came out the fever declined and did not return. These facts are given in a letter to Dr Dod from Dr Brodrepp, grandfather of the child, who attended him on both occasions[916].

Such cases were not often heard of. As Mead said, “If such a thing happened once, why do we not see it come to pass oftener?” There was, however, little encouragement for anyone to come forward with adverse evidence; witness the case of an unfortunate Welshman, one Jones, of Oswestry, who had innocently mentioned, in writing to his son in London, that natural smallpox had followed an inoculation done by him, on 9th August, 1723, and was frightened out of his wits by the apparatus criticus which Jurin brought to bear upon him[917]. Another reason why so few failures could be discovered was that the inoculated were not kept long in sight. A child of Dr Timoni, the first writer on inoculation, was inoculated at Constantinople in December, 1717, at the age of six months, and had an average effect, namely ten small boutons. She died of smallpox in 1741, at the age of twenty-four. This failure came to light by the vigilance of the celebrated De Haën, of Vienna, an opponent of inoculation, who had been told of it by a Scots physician at Constantinople[918].

A good instance of the same thing came to light long after in the practice of the celebrated Dr Rush of Philadelphia. “I lately attended a man in the smallpox,” he wrote to Lettsom, “whom I inoculated six-and-twenty years ago. He showed me a deep and extensive scar upon his arm made by the variolous matter”--without which evidence, and the man’s own reminder, confirmed by his mother’s recollection, Dr Rush would probably have had no reason to believe that this particular one of his inoculations had failed[919].

In the nature of the case, such evidence of failure would seldom be opportune. It would have needed a more dramatic presentation of these cases, and many more of them, to discredit the practice of inoculation. It was, indeed, discredited, so much so that it was not practised at all in England from 1728 until about 1740; but that was owing to the disasters directly resulting from it. No amount of evidence as to the inoculated taking natural smallpox afterwards could have touched the popular imagination like the following paragraphs in the London newspapers in 1725:

March 16, died Mrs Eyles, niece of Sir John Eyles, alderman of London, of the smallpox contracted by inoculation. June 17, died of the smallpox contracted by inoculation Arthur Hill, esquire, eldest son of Viscount Hilsborough. August 12, died of the smallpox by inoculation--Hurst, of Salisbury, esquire.

Inoculation seemed hardly worth having on these terms, granting all that was alleged of its protective power; so that it fell in England into total disuse[920]. It came on again after a time and had a long career, at first among the richer classes, and at length among the common people, who did not cease to use it for their children until it was made a felony by the Act of 1840. After its first brief success, it was revived about 1739-40, in consequence of highly favourable accounts from Charleston, South Carolina, and from Barbados and St Christopher. This second period of inoculation brings in certain modifications of the practice by which the casualties of the earlier period were avoided. The danger from blood-poisoning, pyaemia, or the like, was surmounted. At the same time the inoculated smallpox ceased to have anything of that reality, or approximation to the natural disease, which Nettleton succeeded for a time in giving to it.

Revival of Inoculation in 1740: a New Method.

As early as the Boston inoculations of 1721, the matter had now and again been taken, not from a case of the natural smallpox, but from the pustules of a previous inoculation[921]. But at Charleston in 1738 there really began, doubtless in the way of empirical trial, a systematic attenuation of virus, which has had great scientific developments in our time and has come to be considered as of the essence of the inoculation principle. Describing the South Carolina practice, Kilpatrick says[922]:

“Some persons were of opinion that the pock of the inoculated would be too mild to convey the disease; or, at least, that it must become effete by a second or third transplantation. Experience manifested the contrary. I have inoculated from those who were infected by the matter taken from others of the inoculated, and found no defect. Mr Mowbray, who inoculated many more than any other practitioner, assured me he had infused matter in the fifth or sixth succession from the natural pock, and observed no difference.... The smallest violation of the surface, if it was stained with blood, was a sufficient entrance for the matter, and the least matter was sufficient.”

The last point was a return to the Greek practice, and an abandonment of the more severe method of Nettleton and Boylston.

The Charleston smallpox of 1738, imported by slave-ships from Africa, became extensively epidemic and mortal. It had been last in Charleston fourteen or fifteen years before, but only one or two died on that occasion, and hardly more than ten were attacked. But for that small outbreak, it had not been known in the South Carolina port for a generation previous to 1738. The number of victims in that year is not known precisely. As at Boston in 1721, the epidemic dragged through the spring months, and became very extensive and mortal in the hot weather of June and July. It was then that Mowbray began inoculating, most of the Charleston faculty being opposed to it. He was soon followed by Kilpatrick, who had lost one of his children in the epidemic, and was moved thereby to inoculate the other two. No exact account was kept of the inoculations, nor, we may be sure, of the protective effects; some said a thousand were inoculated, Kilpatrick says eight hundred, but the total of four hundred is also given. Eight died after inoculation, six whites and two negresses. One child of ten months died in convulsions on the ninth day after inoculation, with few signs of smallpox; a minister, aged 40, sickened on the third or fourth day, which was too soon for the artificial disease, and was almost certainly the effects of the inhaled virus; two other adult whites died in such circumstances as to make it doubtful whether they died of inoculation or of coexistent natural smallpox; one negress died of confluent smallpox, having treated herself unwisely; while two other children and a negress died after inoculation, of whom no particulars are known. Besides the fatal cases after inoculation, some “had an eruption that might be called a moderate confluence”; but in these cases also it is not clear that infection was not taken in the natural way: as regards one gentlewoman who had confluent smallpox, it was not certain in what manner she received the infection, whilst “Miss Mary Rhett’s eruption did not appear until the 14th day, yet was supposed to be effected by art.” To meet such cases Kilpatrick adopted the doctrine that there was “no precise term for the artificial eruption.” Among those “hardly dealt with” by the disease, supposed to have been given by art, were two ladies who had their eyes permanently injured. “With regard to a second infection of the inoculated who took, this was asserted by some who wished for it, but were as soon refuted.” Nineteen in twenty of the inoculated had an exceedingly slight eruption, so slight indeed that they thought the confinement indoors irksome and unnecessary. As to the negroes, who had all been born in Africa (and commonly have smallpox there or in the voyage across), it was not easy, he admits, to find out whether they had had smallpox before or not, the pits on their faces being less obvious than in whites, and the marks of other distempers easily mistaken for them. On the whole Kilpatrick was confident that inoculation in this epidemic had saved many lives; and it was the rumour of its success, together with corresponding reports from the plantations in the West Indies relating the valuable lives of negroes saved, that gave a fresh impulse to the practice in England. In 1743 Kilpatrick came to London, where he republished his Charleston essay, with an historical appendix, and soon got into the leading practice as an inoculator, having proceeded to the degree of M.D. and changed the spelling of his name to Kirkpatrick. Woodville says “he was esteemed the most scientific inoculator in London.” During the eleven years from his setting up in practice there until the publication of his Analysis of Inoculation (1754), he had almost certainly been applying the arm-to-arm method which he learned from Mowbray in Charleston, having briefly indicated it in his first essay and avowed it more explicitly in his second. The establishment of Kirkpatrick in London, to practise the Charleston method of inoculation, corresponds, as nearly as one can trace it, with the revival of the practice in the south of England, to the extent of some two thousand cases in the counties of Kent, Surrey, Sussex, Hampshire and Dorset. We have a glimpse of that practice in the essay on inoculation published in 1749 by Dr Frewen, of Rye in Sussex[923], a physician of considerable learning (of the school of Boerhaave), whose theories of the effects of inoculation are reflected in Kirkpatrick’s Analysis of 1754. In 350 cases, Frewen had only one fatality, the death of a child, aged four, from worm fever on the eighth day of a discrete eruption. He still used the incision on the arm, but less deep than Nettleton’s, keeping the pledget of lint, moistened with matter, bound upon it for twenty-four hours; also he encouraged the rendering from the incision for some weeks, giving the same reason as before, that “Nature by means of a continual drain is greatly aided in her attempts to throw off the matter of the disease.” In his general account of the effects of inoculation, we seem to be reading of as real symptoms and as many pocks as Nettleton described--the eruption, always of the simple distinct kind, beginning on the 9th day, all out in three or four days after, the pocks filling and turning yellow for the next four or five days, then scabbing and falling, leaving temporary shallow marks. But it is clear that he had other results than these from trying new ways of procuring matter. “Experience,” he says, “has convinced me that it is in reality of no consequence from what kind of smallpox it [the matter] is procured.” If taken from the natural smallpox, it should be taken from ripe pustules: “yet I have sometimes applied it sooner, while only a limpid water.” Oftentimes it happened that an inoculation produced too “slight” pustules to furnish matter for the succeeding operations. The question then arose whether the matter rendering from the incisions on the arms in these cases was merely common pus or whether it had the property of “variolosity.” This abstract quality, as it were the essence or quiddity of the pustular exanthem, was assumed to be present if the pus of the rendering incision could be made to raise a pustule on another arm, and if the person so infected could stand exposure to natural smallpox with impunity. One person so inoculated did have an attack of smallpox by contagion, so that Frewen concluded that the matter used for his protection had “run off all its variolosity.” But others inoculated with the same, “in whom the symptoms were remarkably light, and in some few no pustules at all,” were equally exposed to contagion without catching it, so that they were “judged to be secure from ever taking the smallpox again.” Frewen’s general conclusion, if it be not very logical, is at least modest:

“However, it may be worth the attention to reflect seriously whether it be not highly probable, from the success attending the numbers I have been concerned for, that inoculation has been often times a security against taking the most dangerous kinds of the natural smallpox.”

Whether Frewen got the ideas of these novelties of method from Kirkpatrick’s first account of the South Carolina practice, or struck them out for himself, it is clear that Kirkpatrick, in his next essay of 1754, has adopted variolosity as an abstract doctrine to surmount certain difficulties in the concrete reason. Many of his inoculated cases had only a few bastard pustules of smallpox, some had none. Was their disease smallpox? Did it warrant their future security?

“As many of the inoculated have very few pustules, and they are sometimes disposed to scab and wither away with very little suppuration, it might be of service to discover that the matter from the incisions would infect. But it would be certainly satisfactory to find it would where there was no eruption from inoculation, as its variolosity would greatly warrant the future security of the person it was taken from. That it is variolous is now evinced by the fact that it infected others to the like slight degree[924].”

The movement towards attenuating the virus used for inoculation was general in Europe. One of the mild methods, invented by Tronchin, of Amsterdam and afterwards of Paris, was to raise a small blister on the arm and to pass through the fluid a thread moistened with smallpox matter. This became one of the most common continental methods and was in use until the beginning of the 19th century. Kirkpatrick, who went to see the practice of Tronchin, found the method by blister to produce as slight effects in the way of eruption as he describes for his own method:

“I attended and infected five poor children:--three, about seven years old, by incision; and two, about five years old, by vesication. Of the first three, one, a girl, had a pretty moderate but very kindly sprinkling; the two boys very few. The two by blisters, a boy and a girl, had rather less,--the boy Dudin, a very fair delicate little child, not having above three or four, all which had not matter enough to infect one patient[925].”

Everywhere after the middle of the eighteenth century inoculation was coming into fashion again. In France it was lauded by the philosophes, while it was scouted by the medical faculty. La Condamine, a mathematician who had acquired fame by his journey to the Amazon to measure the three first degrees of the meridian, became interested in the subject by hearing from a credulous Carmelite missionary at Para how he had saved half of his Indian converts by inoculation after the other half had been destroyed by the natural smallpox. The mathematical philosopher on his return became an enthusiast for inoculation, and twice harangued the Académie des Sciences thereon. “The practice of inoculation,” he said, “was improved during the time of its disgrace.” What this improvement consisted in he also explained: “Neither the eruption is essential to the natural nor the pustules to the artificial smallpox: and perhaps art will one day come to effect what one hopes for and what Boerhaave and Lobb have even tried--I mean a change in the external form of this malady without any increase of its danger[926].”

The Suttonian Inoculation.

Daniel Sutton, though an empiric, has given his name to the slight and safe method of inoculation which had been used in England for a good many years before his advent. So completely was his name joined to the practice of smallpox inoculation in its later period that in a Bill before Parliament in 1808 it is called “the Suttonian inoculation,” to distinguish it from cowpox inoculation. The idea of attenuating the virus used for inoculation, and of making the effects minimal, was not his. It had been reached empirically years before by Mowbray, of Charleston, in 1738, who carried inoculation from arm to arm to the fifth remove, by Frewen, of Rye, in 1749, who was satisfied with an abstract “variolosity” of the incisions, in cases where there was no eruption at all or only a few pustules that did not fill, by Kirkpatrick, “the most scientific inoculator in London,” who endorsed the doctrine of variolosity, by La Condamine, and most of all by Gatti of Paris.

Gatti used the unripe matter from a previous inoculation and inserted a most minute quantity of it at a very small puncture; and, to make sure that no general eruption should follow, he used the cooling regimen in various ways, including the prolonged immersion of the hands in cold water. Thus he promised his clients “the benefits of inoculation without its risks.” But Gatti’s career of prosperity was cut short by a series of conspicuous failures of his artificial smallpox to prevent the natural or real disease when it was epidemic. One of his patients, the Duchess de Boufflers, a great lady whose salon was frequented by the philosophes and beaux esprits, fell into the natural smallpox two years and a half after her inoculation[927]. So many others in Paris had the same disappointment that a discussion arose in the Faculty of Medicine, the result of which was that the Parliament of Paris prohibited the practice of inoculation, for various reasons, within the limits of the capital.

Gatti’s friend and correspondent in London was Dr Maty, who, “though born in Holland might be considered a Frenchman, but he was fixed in London by the practice of physic and an office in the British Museum[928].” Having conducted the foreign correspondence of the Royal Society, he became in 1765 its secretary in ordinary, and about the same time Principal Librarian of the British Museum. His interest in inoculation, which was shown by his translating La Condamine’s first discourse on that subject in 1755, led him in 1765 to suggest to Gatti that he should write an essay for publication in England, “both to reclaim the thinking part of Paris, and to vindicate his own operations from the contemptuous treatment of his antagonists.” The essay was written in due course, and Maty brought it out in English[929].

Gatti’s own experiments and those which had previously been made in England by the most experienced inoculators had satisfied him of the truth of what he had long suspected, namely, that the operation could be made “still more harmless, though not less efficacious” (p. 29). There would be hardly any fever, certainly a very slight eruption and perhaps none at all (p. 68), It had, indeed, been questioned whether a patient who had but very few pustules, or only one, has had the smallpox as truly as one who has been very full, and whether he is equally safe from catching it. He answers in the affirmative, according to the doctrine of variolosity: “No reason can be alleged, why we should have the smallpox but once, that will not equally hold good for one as for ten thousand pustules” (p. 69). Some, however, will not believe that one pustule is as good as ten thousand, “notwithstanding the obviousness of this truth.” If one were absolutely bent upon giving a certain number of pustules, he would advise to inoculate according to his method (insertion with a needle) at twenty, thirty, or fifty places: “then you would be sure of one pustule at least at each puncture, and, probably, of many more in other parts.” He would do this, however, only to humour prejudice, and with a feeling that he was doing the patient “more harm than was necessary.” He was seriously satisfied of the “sufficiency of a single pustule,” and believed that every wise man should run the venture of it and “embrace the method here laid down.”

There was no theoretical objection to this method, but there was the practical one, that it might be too slight in its effects. Patients could hardly rest satisfied with so little to show for smallpox; and inoculators themselves found that they might have all their work to do over again. An eminent Irish physician wrote in 1765 to Dr Andrew, of Exeter, that crude matter from a previous inoculation was “less communicative of the disorder and more apt to disappoint us” than matter from a natural smallpox eruption taken “five or six days before the maturation of it[930].” It was also the experience of Salmade, of Paris, in 1798, that serous matter, taken from arm to arm through a long succession of cases, was apt to go off altogether, or to be “weakened to the point of nullity,” whereby it disappointed the operator[931]. Reid, of Chelsea Hospital, was said to have carried the succession to thirty removes from the natural smallpox. Bromfeild knew for certain of matter being used at the sixteenth remove.

So long as the operation held at all, and had not to be repeated, Dr Andrew believed that effects which “no one would have taken for the smallpox,” were “sufficient security against any future infection[932].” Heberden, indeed, has recorded a case adverse to that view; but one case is not enough, even if it had been in as eminent a person as Madame de Boufflers[933].

Daniel Sutton, who gave his name to the slighter kind of smallpox inoculation, was not a regular practitioner. His father, a doctor of medicine in Suffolk, was a specialist inoculator, as others of the regular profession here and there were becoming, and had operated upon 2514 patients from 1757 to 1767. In 1763 Daniel began business on his own account at Ingatestone in Essex, where patients from all parts were boarded and subjected to his regimen, as at a water-cure. In 1764 he made 2000 guineas, and in 1765 £6300. In the three years 1764-66 he inoculated 13,792 persons, and his assistants some 6000 more--without a single death. Sutton kept his method at first a secret, and for that reason was looked at askance by eminent physicians. He used pills and powders, which were found, by the analysis of Ruston, to be a preparation of antimony and mercury, the drugs supposed to be antidotes to natural smallpox, or the means of preventing its pustular eruption. But the essence of his method was found to be, in Chandler’s words, “the taking of the infective humour in a crude state [from a previous inoculation] before it has been, if I may allow the expression, variolated by the succeeding fever[934],” or, in Dimsdale’s words, “inoculating with recent fluid matter,” or in Sir George Baker’s words, “with the moisture taken from the arm before the eruption of the smallpox, nay, within four days after the operation has been performed[935].”

Sutton made it known that the effects of this method were exceedingly mild--no keeping of bed, no trouble at all: “if any patient has twenty or thirty pustules, he is said to have the smallpox very heavy.” Being put on his trial at Chelmsford for spreading abroad the contagious particles of smallpox by the number of his inoculations, his defence was to have been (if the bill had not been thrown out by the grand jury), that he “never brought into Chelmsford a patient who was capable of infecting a bystander.” The mildness of his artificial smallpox was acknowledged with satisfaction by some, with dissatisfaction by others. Dr Giles Watts, an inoculator in Kent, says it was “a most extraordinary improvement. The art of inoculation is enabled to reduce the distemper to almost as low a degree as we could wish.... There is now an opportunity of seeing what a very small number of the multitude of persons of all ages, habits and constitutions, who have been inoculated in these parts, have been ill after it.” Comparing it with the method which he had practised before, he says that he never knew ten or twelve inoculated together “in the old way” but one or more had the distemper in a pretty severe manner; on the other hand, he had inoculated four of his children in the new way and all of them together had not so many as eighty pustules. He adds that sometimes the inoculated had not even a single pustule (besides the one at the point of insertion) or at other times not more than two or three[936].

The Suttonian practice was objected to by Bromfeild in an essay dedicated to Queen Charlotte. Tracing it to Gatti, whose manifesto had been published in England two years before, he said that it was mere credulity “to have given credit to a man who should assert, that he would give them a disease which should not produce one single symptom that could characterize it from their usual state of health.... Inoculation, though hitherto a great blessing to our island, will in a very short time be brought into disgrace,” if it were assumed “that health and security from the disease can be equally obtained by reducing the patients so low as only to produce five to fifteen pimples[937].”

Bromfeild was not openly supported except by Dr Langton, of Salisbury, who contended that “the matter communicated is not the smallpox, because numbers have been inoculated a second, third and fourth time, that therefore it is no security against a future infection.” He cites Gatti’s case of the Duchess de Boufflers, and declares, as to the English inoculations, that not above one in ten have so many variolous symptoms as may be remarked in her case. “The old method of inoculating,” he says, “was to take the infection from a good subject where the pustules were well maturated, whereby the operation was sure of succeeding; but the present practice is to take the matter from the incision the fourth day after the incision is made [this was Sutton’s avowed practice]. By this means you have a contagious caustic water instead of laudable pus, and a slight ferment in the lymph is raised, producing a few watery blotches in the place of a perfect extrusion of the variolous matter[938].”

There was no difference of opinion as to the exact purport and upshot of the new method; it was to reduce the eruption to the lowest point or to a vanishing point. Nothing can be more emphatic than Gatti’s profession of belief that a single pustule, at the place of insertion, was as effectual as ten thousand; and it is not only likely, on the face of it, that such a mitigation as Reid’s to the thirtieth remove from natural smallpox, would produce merely the local pustule, but it is clear that Gatti saw no way of ensuring more by his method, supposing he were to gratify the prejudices of the laity in favour of more, than by puncturing the skin at twenty, thirty, or fifty separate points. It is not to be supposed, however, that the minimum result was obtained in all cases, or that all inoculators were equally adroit in procuring it; even Sutton had to admit that some of his thirteen thousand patients had more pustules on the skin than he desired.

Perhaps the most exact record of the number of pustules produced in a comparative trial of various methods is that of Sir William Watson at the Foundling Hospital in 1768[939]. Of 74 children inoculated in October and November, twelve had no eruption at all, but yet were held to have been protected by the operation. The remaining sixty-two had a very small average of pustules in addition to the local pustules, which average, small as it was, came mostly from two or three severer cases (e.g. one with 440 pustules, one with 260, and one with near 200), the most having three or four or a dozen or perhaps two dozen (e.g. three had only 7 pustules among them, or, in another batch of ten done with crude or ichorous matter, “the most that any boy had was 25, the least 4, the most that any girl had was 6, the least 3,” or, in another batch of ten, also with crude lymph, two had no eruption, seven had 35 pustules among them, and one had 30). Of the amount of smallpox upon the whole sixty-two cases which had some eruption Watson says: “Physicians daily see in one limb only of an adult person labouring under the coherent, not to say confluent smallpox, a greater quantity of variolous matter than was found in all these persons put together.”

Watson’s sole measure of “success” in inoculating was the slightness of the effect produced; and as he found that crude or watery matter from the punctured spot of a previous inoculation had the least effect, he decided to use that kind of matter always in future at the Foundling Hospital. On the other hand, Mudge, of Plymouth, raised a different issue and put it to the test of experiment on a large scale. Did crude matter infect the constitution? Did it make the patient insusceptible of the effects of a second inoculation with purulent matter? The experiment came out thus:

At Plympton, in Devonshire, in the year 1776, thirty persons were inoculated with crude or watery matter from the arm of a woman who had been inoculated five days before, and ten persons were at the same time inoculated with purulent matter from the pustules of a case of natural smallpox. The thirty done with crude matter had each “a large prominent pustule” at the place of puncture, “but not one of them had any eruptive fever or subsequent eruption on any part of the body.” Matter taken from their local pustules produced exactly the same result in the next remove, namely, a local pustule, but no eruptive fever nor eruptive pustules. The thirty were inoculated again, this time with purulent matter (five from natural smallpox, twenty-five from inoculated smallpox), and all of them had, besides the local pustule, an eruptive fever and an eruption “in the usual way of inoculated patients.” The ten who were originally inoculated with purulent matter had that result at first[940].

In the subsequent history of inoculation it would appear that the method known by the name of Sutton, of using crude or watery matter from a previous inoculated case, was the one commonly preferred. But it was not always preferred. One of the medical neighbours of the afterwards celebrated Dr Jenner took matter from the pustules and kept it in a phial; his patients inoculated therewith had somewhat active effects, even “sometimes eruptions.” But “many of them unfortunately fell victims to the contagion of smallpox, as if they had never been under the influence of this artificial disease,” so that Jenner, who had probably not heard of Mudge’s experiment, was confirmed in his preference for the crude matter (before the eruptive fever) from a previous inoculation. It was of great importance, he said, to attend to that point, as it would “prevent much subsequent mischief and confusion[941].” Of course there were many more chances of getting matter from natural smallpox than from inoculated; but it would appear that in the former also it was taken in the ichorous or unripe stage of the eruption, according to the practice of Sutton, and despite the experimental proof that Mudge gave of its merely superficial or formal effects.

Mudge’s experiment was on a large scale, and designed to test a general or scientific issue. The testing experiment usually made was merely for the sake of the particular case; the patient was inoculated a second time, shortly after the first, with the same matter as before, or a third time, or even a fourth time. Whatever the significance of this for the doctrine of inoculation in general (as in the issue raised by Mudge), the individual was both reassured and fortified so far as concerned his own safety. The experiment of the former generation that was usually cited was that of the Hon. John Yorke. On his leaving the university at the age of one and twenty it was thought prudent that he should be inoculated for smallpox before entering on the great world. He was inoculated by serjeant surgeon Hawkins, and had the local suppuration, some fever, but little or no eruption. The inoculator was satisfied, but not so the youth: he insisted upon a second inoculation, which had no effect. This was considered a leading case. When the Suttonian method came in, and the absence of eruption (barring a few pimples or bastard pustules) became the usual thing, the occasions for a second inoculation became more common, owing to the prejudice, as Gatti said, of the laity in favour of something tangible although not excessive[942].

Dimsdale inoculated many of his patients a second time, and produced the local pustule again, as at first. Of the 74 foundlings in Watson’s experiment of Oct.-Nov. 1767, there were twelve who had no eruption, of whom four were re-inoculated with no better result or with no result. Of the whole twelve he says: “Although they had no eruption, I consider them as having in all probability gone through the disease, as the punctures of almost all of them were inflamed and turgid many days.” It was so unusual for a second inoculation, in a doubtful case, to produce more than the first, that Kite, of Gravesend, communicated to the Medical Society of London two cases where that had happened, as being “anomalous.” He had never before been able to communicate the smallpox, on a second attempt, “to any patient whose arm had inflamed, and who had even a much less degree of fever” than Case 1, who had only the local pustule and “on the eighth day was quite well:” and he cites Dimsdale to the same effect[943].

Perhaps enough has been said to illustrate the subtle casuistry that had gradually arisen out of the old problem of procuring the smallpox by artifice. I make one more citation, from a Hampshire inoculator in 1786, to show how fine were the distinctions, depending, one might suppose, upon the subjective state of the practitioner, drawn between effective and non-effective inoculation:

“The incisions sometimes have a partial inflammation for a few days, which then vanishes without producing any illness; in this case the patient is certainly still liable to infection; but I believe it very rarely happens that there is any matter, or even ichor, in the present slight manner they are made, without producing the smallpox.... I have constantly remarked that when the punctured part inflames properly, and is attended with an efflorescence, rather inclining to a crimson colour, for some distance round the same, about the eleventh or twelfth day from the inoculation, although the patient should have very little illness and no eruption, yet that he is secure from all future infection[944].”

Extent of Inoculation in Britain to the end of the 18th Century.

From 1721 to 1727 the inoculations in all England were known with considerable accuracy to have been 857; in 1728 they declined to 37; and for the next ten or twelve years they were of no account. The southern counties led the revival in the fifth decade of the century, so that before long some two thousand had been inoculated in Surrey, Kent, Sussex and Hampshire. Frewen, however, who could point to 350 cases done by himself in Sussex previous to 1749, says that it “gained but little credit among the common sort of people, who began to dispute about the lawfulness of propagating diseases, and whether or no the smallpox produced by inoculation would be a certain security against taking it by infection,” etc.

In London, after the revival under Kirkpatrick’s influence in 1743, inoculation became a lucrative branch of surgical practice, and was done by the heads of the profession--Ranby, Hawkins, Middleton and others, and almost exclusively among the well-to-do. In 1747 Ranby had inoculated 827 without losing one; in 1754 his total, still without a death, had reached 1200. In 1754 Middleton had done 800 inoculations, with one death. The operation was by no means so simple as it looked. It required the combined wits of a physician, a surgeon, and an apothecary; while the preparation of the patient to receive the matter was an affair of weeks and of much physicking and regimen. Thus inoculation was for a long time the privilege of those who could pay for it. As late as 1781, when a movement was started for giving the poor of Liverpool the benefits of inoculation, it was stated in the programme of the charity that, “as the matter now stands, inoculation in Liverpool is confined almost exclusively to the higher ranks,” the wealthier inhabitants having generally availed themselves of it for many years[945].

The first project in London for gratuitous inoculation took shape, along with the plan of a smallpox hospital, at a meeting held in February, 1746, in the vestry-room of St Paul’s, Covent Garden[946]. The original house of the charity, called the Middlesex County Hospital for Smallpox, was opened in July, 1746, in Windmill Street, Tottenham Court Road, but was shortly removed to Mortimer Street, and again, to Lower Street, Islington. The charity opened also a smallpox hospital in Bethnal Green, which eventually contained forty-four beds. The Inoculation Hospital proper, used for the tedious preparation of subjects, was a house in Old Street, St Luke’s, with accommodation for fifteen persons. Besides the smallpox hospital at Islington, the charity had, in 1750, a neighbouring house in Frog Lane, for the reception of patients after they had been inoculated in the Old Street house. Down to the middle of 1750 there had been admitted 620 patients in the natural smallpox, while only 34 had gone through the process of inoculation. The latter involved a month’s preparation, and about a fortnight’s detention after the operation was done; so that a new batch of subjects was inoculated but once in seven weeks. In 1752 the governors of the charity purchased a large building in Coldbath Fields, which they fitted with one hundred and thirty beds, as a hospital both for cases of the natural smallpox and for preparing subjects to undergo inoculation (the Old Street house being still retained for the latter purpose). The next important change was in 1768, when a large new hospital was opened at St Pancras, to be solely a house of preparation, the old hospital in Coldbath Fields being now turned to the double purpose of receiving the patients from St Pancras after their inoculation and of receiving patients in the natural smallpox. Thus the inoculation business of the charity, which had begun with being subordinate to the treatment of those sick of the natural smallpox, gradually encroached upon the latter and became paramount. The inoculations, which had been only 112 in the year 1752, reached the total of 1084 in the year 1768, while the admissions for smallpox “in the natural way” from 24 March, 1767, to 24 March, 1768, were 700.

In the year 1762-63, the admissions for natural smallpox had been 844, and for inoculations 439. One reason of the great increase of patients received for inoculation after that date was the rise of the Suttonian practice, which had vogue enough to attract numbers, and at the same time was so much simplified in the matter of preparation and in its results that many more could go through the hospitals in a given time. The inoculations by the Smallpox Charity were done in batches, men and boys at one time, women and girls at another, on some eight or twelve occasions in the year, of which public notice was given.

The following table is taken from the annual report of the Smallpox and Inoculation Hospitals for the year 1868.

Period Inoculations

Previous to Oct. 1749 17 Oct. 1749-Oct. 1750 29 Oct. 1750-Oct. 1751 85 1752 112 1753 129 1754 135 1755 217 1756 281 1757 247 1758 } 446 1759 } 1760 372 1761 429 1762 496 1763 439 1764 383 1765 394 1766 633 1767 653 1768 1084

These charitable efforts to keep down smallpox in London hardly touched the mass of the people, and did not touch at all the infants and young children among whom nearly all the cases occurred. The charity admitted no subjects for inoculation under the age of seven years. It aimed at giving to a certain number of the working class, or of the domestics or other dependents of the rich, the same individual protection that their betters paid for. Meanwhile there were on an average about twelve thousand cases of smallpox in London from year to year, mostly in infants and young children. The first proposal to apply inoculation to these came in 1767, from Dr Maty, in a paper on “The Advantages of Early Inoculation.” This physician, distinguished in letters and now become a librarian, sought to recommend inoculation for infants by glorifying the purity of their juices and the natural vigour of their constitutions, which was something of a paradox at a time when half the infants born in London were dying before the end of their third year. He saw as in a vision how smallpox would be extinguished by making inoculation universal:

“When once all the adults susceptible of the infection should either have received it or be dead without suffering from it, the very want of the variolous matter would put a stop to both the natural and artificial smallpox. Inoculation then would cease to be necessary, and therefore be laid aside[947].”

Eight years after, in 1775, Dr Lettsom seriously took up the project of inoculating infants in London[948]. He started a Society for Inoculation at the Homes of the People, which effected nothing besides some inoculations done by Lettsom himself during an epidemic “in confined streets and courts.” In 1779 he launched another scheme for a “General Inoculation Dispensary for the benefit of the poor throughout London, Westminster and Southwark, without removing them from their own habitations[949].” That also was frustrated by the active opposition of Dimsdale[950]. The objection to it was that there was no prospect of making the practice universal, and that partial inoculations in the crowded quarters of London would merely serve to keep the contagion of smallpox more active than ever. Lettsom answered that the danger of contagion from inoculated smallpox was more theoretical than real, inasmuch as the amount of smallpox matter produced upon the inoculated was a mere trifle[951].

At Newcastle, Lettsom’s design had at least a trial, under the influence of his friend Dr John Clark[952]. The Dispensary, founded in 1777, was designed from the outset to undertake gratuitous inoculations; but it was not until 13 April, 1786, that it got to work. The “liberality of the public” enabled the managers in that year to offer premiums to parents, to cover the expense of having their children sick from inoculation--five shillings for one child, seven shillings for two, nine shillings for three, and ten shillings for four or more of a family. On the first occasion, 208 children were inoculated, and all recovered. From 1786 to 1801, the cases numbered 3268. It was the aim of Dr Clark to get the operation done in infancy; accordingly in the space of four and a half years (1786-1790), of 1056 inoculations 460 were on infants under one year, 270 from one to two, 122 from two to three, 69 from three to four, 62 from four to five, 66 from five to ten, and 7 from ten to fifteen. This was perhaps the most systematic attempt at infant inoculation from year to year. The other dispensaries at which inoculation was steadily offered to the children of the poor were at Whitehaven (1079 inoculations from 1783 to 1796), at Bath, and at Chester.

Before the society was started at Chester for the purpose, the inoculations were some fifteen or twenty in a year, and these, we may suppose, in the richer families. The society got to work in 1779, but its operations were stopped in 1780 by a singular cause--the general diffusion of smallpox in the town by a regiment of soldiers. The whole inoculations of poor children from the spring of 1780 until September, 1782, were 213, besides which 203 were done in private practice. The year 1781 was tolerably free from epidemic smallpox (8 deaths), but in January, 1782, a very mortal kind prevailed in several parts of the town.

At Liverpool the first gratuitous general inoculation was in the autumn of 1781, to the number of about 517. “The affluent,” says Currie, “being alarmed at the advertisement for this purpose, presented their children also in great numbers, and 161 passed through the disease.” There was a second gratuitous inoculation in the spring of 1782 (to which some of the above numbers may have belonged), and it was intended to continue the same at regular intervals; but there is no record of more than those two[953].

Although Dimsdale opposed “general” inoculations in the large towns, for the reasons mentioned, he was in favour of inoculating together all the susceptible subjects in a smaller place or country district; and that kind of general inoculation was not unfrequently undertaken, sometimes hurriedly at the beginning of an epidemic, at other times after an epidemic had been running its course for months, and here or there, it would seem, during a free interval and by way of general precaution.

Dimsdale himself, with the help of Ingenhousz, carried out on one occasion, in Berkhamstead and three or four other villages of Hertfordshire, a general inoculation to the number, he guesses, of some six hundred persons of all ages, including some quite old persons. In 1765 or 1766 Daniel Sutton at Maldon, Essex, inoculated in one morning 417 of all ages, who were said to be all those in the town that had not had smallpox in the natural way. Some hundreds were also inoculated by him at one time in Maidstone.

In the small Gloucestershire town of Painswick in 1786, a very violent and fatal smallpox broke out during a time of typhus and intermittent fever. In consequence of the epidemic, one surgeon inoculated 738 persons from the 26th of May to the end of June[954]. In another Gloucestershire parish, Dursley, a single surgeon in the spring of 1797 inoculated 1475 persons of all ages, “from a fortnight to seventy years.” But in certain villages near Leeds in 1786-7 a general inoculation, organised by a zealous clergyman and paid for by a nobleman, mustered only eighty. About the same time, during an epidemic of malignant smallpox at Luton, Bedfordshire, 1215 were inoculated, and thereafter about 700 more; the average number annually attacked by smallpox during a period of nine years had been about twenty-five[955].

Inoculation was tried first in Scotland in 1726 by Maitland, during a visit to his native Aberdeenshire, but was not persevered with owing to one or two fatalities among the half-dozen cases. About 1733 it was begun at Dumfries by Gilchrist, who practised it during the next thirty years upon 560 persons, most of them, doubtless, paying patients. The returns made to Professor Monro, of Edinburgh, showed in the chief medical practices 5554 inoculations down to 1765; of which 703 were in Edinburgh and Leith, 950 in Glasgow, 208 in Stirling, 260 in Irvine, 157 in Aberdeen, 310 in Banff, 243 in Thurso, and 560 in Dumfries as above[956]. Seventy-two deaths are put down to the practice. When the Statistical Account of the 938 parishes was compiled in the last decade of the century, a few of the parish ministers made reference to inoculation.

Thus, in Applecross, Ross-shire, and three neighbouring parishes, an uneducated man is said to have inoculated 700 after a very fatal epidemic in 1789; it happened, however, that the pestilence reappeared, whereupon inoculation was “generally adopted[957].” Applecross may have been populous then; now there is not a smoke to be seen in it for miles. Again, the practice is said to have become “universal” in Skye from about 1780[958]. In Durness parish, which the tourist may now traverse for thirteen miles to Cape Wrath without seeing anyone but a shepherd, inoculation was rendered “general” about 1780 by the benevolence of a gentleman belonging to the parish[959]. From October, 1796, to July, 1797, a surgeon of Thurso inoculated 645 in that town and in country parishes of Caithness during a very severe epidemic[960]. In the parish of Jedburgh the cost of an inoculation was defrayed by the heritors, in that of Kirkwall by the kirk session, in another by the commissioners of annexed estates, in Earlstown, Berwickshire (on 70 children) by the chief proprietor. The ministers who mention it at all were mostly strong advocates of it, but they usually imply that the common people were (or had been) apathetic or prejudiced. It was sometimes recommended from the pulpit, and actually done by the ministers; it was even recommended that students of divinity should be instructed in the art. Statements that it had become “general” or “universal” are made for several parishes, mostly in the Highlands or Islands. The very full and trustworthy account of the parish of Banff says that “inoculation is by no means become general among the lower ranks[961];” which is perhaps about the truth for the country at large.

At the end of an epidemic at Leeds, in 1781, which had attacked 462 and killed 130 during six months, “in the next six months there were inoculated 385, of whom four died” (two by contagious smallpox). A second general inoculation was carried out in Leeds sometime previous to 1788. Lucas, writing in that year, says: “The result of two general inoculations in Leeds has been that the smallpox has since been less frequent and less fatal[962].” This will be a convenient opportunity of considering the gross effects of inoculation upon the prevalence of smallpox.

The first and most obvious consideration is that it usually came too late. “Most born in London,” said Lettsom quite correctly, “have smallpox before they are seven”--i.e. before the age for admission to the inoculation hospital. He might have added that, if they had run the gauntlet of smallpox in London until they were seven, they were little likely to take it at all. The inoculations in London were therefore done upon a very select class (they were, in fact, a very small number), who may be assumed to have escaped the perils of smallpox in London in their childhood, or to have come to London (as many did) from country places where smallpox broke out as an epidemic only at long intervals. In other large towns as well as the capital the inoculated must have been a residual class. At Leeds, with a population of 17,117, “the number of those who were still uninfected was found on a survey to be 700” at the end of an epidemic, of whom 385 were inoculated. If a general inoculation had been tried at Chester after the epidemic of 1774, there would have been only 1060, in a population of 14,713, to try it on. How many of these, above the age of childhood, were constitutionally proof against smallpox? The case of Ware, in Hertfordshire, after the epidemic in the summer of 1777, is so related by Lettsom as to bring out the ambiguity of much that was claimed for inoculation. “After about eighty had been carried off by it, a general inoculation was proposed, to prevent those who had not yet been attacked, and whose number was still considerable, from sharing the same fate. The alarm which had been excited induced most of the survivors to adopt this proposition, after which not one died, and the infection was wholly eradicated.” Eighty deaths in one epidemic is a large mortality for such a place as Ware in any circumstances; the smallpox for once had done its worst. But, says Lettsom, there were a few families of those hitherto untouched by the epidemic who did not submit to inoculation. Not one of them caught the disease--from their inoculated neighbours (Lettsom is arguing that there was no danger in that way), nor, of course, from the epidemic contagion. It cannot but appear strange to us that the natural cessation or exhaustion of an epidemic should not have been thought of. Dr Currie, of Liverpool, records that in the first general inoculation there in 1781 there were 417 inoculated gratuitously and about 100 more in private practice, and that “about three or four thousand liable to the disease were scattered in the same manner [as the inoculated], not one of whom caught the infection.” For a few weeks there was not a case of smallpox known in Liverpool, so that no matter could be got for inoculation. He adds, in the most ingenuous manner: “An important particular has been recalled to my mind by Mr Park; that previous to this first general inoculation, which extinguished the smallpox in so extraordinary a way, the disease raged in town with much violence and was very fatal[963].”

The general inoculations were often carried out in so haphazard a manner as to make them valueless for a scientific as well as for a practical purpose. A Bath surgeon of long experience wrote in 1800: “Whenever the inoculating rage once takes place whole parishes are doomed, without the least attention to age, sex, or temperament--no previous preparation, no after treatment or concern.... Are not scores and hundreds seized upon at once, for the incisions, scratchings, puncturings and threadings, without even a possibility of their being properly attended to? and whether they may or may not receive the infection is just as little known or cared about[964].” It must have been equally little known or cared about whether they had had smallpox in the natural way before. What Dimsdale found to obtain at St Petersburg would have been the rule elsewhere: “The general method was to search for marks, and, if none were found, it was concluded the party had not had the disease[965].”

Thus in any attempt to estimate the gross advantages of inoculation in the 18th century we are met on every hand by sources of fallacy. Whatever its theoretical correctness, it does not follow that the inoculation of smallpox was a practical success to the extent of its trial; and even its theoretical correctness will be thought by some, and was so thought at the time, to have gone by the board when the artificial disease was brought down to a pustule at the point of puncture, with or without a few bastard pocks on the skin near. I have found two instances in the 18th century history in which there are data for a rough practical judgment, although not for a precise statistical one. The first is the town of Blandford, in Dorset; the other is the Foundling Hospital in London.

During the smallpox year 1766, smallpox of a very malignant type broke out at Blandford in the first week of April[966]. It was estimated that 700 persons in the town (population 2110 in 1773) had not had the natural smallpox, and a general inoculation was resolved upon on the 13th April. “A perfect rage for inoculation,” says Dr Pulteney[967], “seized the whole town,” and in the week following the 16th April some 300 were inoculated, the total rising to 384 before the panic ceased; of these, 150 were paid for by the parish. There were thirteen deaths among the inoculated, but most of these confluent or haemorrhagic cases, seem to have been due to the epidemic contagious smallpox, which had been peculiarly fatal, with haemorrhagic symptoms, to the few that were seized before the inoculation began, and continued to be fatal to many. The mortality from smallpox for the year in the parish register was 44, and from all causes 104, or more than twice the normal[967]. The last epidemic of smallpox in Blandford had been in 1753, when 40 died of it, the deaths from all causes being 96. In that year also there had been a general inoculation to the number of 309. The parish register gives the deaths in an earlier epidemic, in 1741, which was a year of great distress and typhus fever all over England: 76 deaths are ascribed to smallpox (102 to all causes), which is a larger total from smallpox than in either of the subsequent occasions when general inoculations were tried. Comparing these three epidemics in a Table, with the associated circumstances, we get the following:

Statistics of Blandford in three Smallpox Years (Population in 1773, 2110).

| | | | Annual Averages of Year of |Deaths| Deaths |Inoculations| eight previous years Epidemic| from | from | |----------------------- | all |Smallpox| | | | |causes| | |Marriages|Births|Deaths --------|------|--------|------------|---------|------|------ 1741 | 102 | 76 | --- | 24·87 |63·37 | 49·25 1753 | 96 | 40 | 309 | 19·37 |50·62 | 49·62 1766 | 104 | 44 | 384 | 20·62 |54·12 | 49·12

It will be seen that the higher mortality from smallpox in 1741 was associated with other things besides the absence of inoculation. The annual average of deaths for eight years preceding each of the three epidemics is almost the same. But the marriages and births for eight years preceding 1741 were much in excess of those in the periods preceding the other two epidemic years. In the former there was a much larger susceptible population of children, upon which the smallpox mainly fell; and that alone would account for more deaths from smallpox in the epidemic of 1741. But the year 1741 was peculiar in another way; it was the worst year of typhus fever and general distress in the whole of the 18th century, and in the circumstances the deaths from smallpox would have been unusually numerous for the cases. Another epidemic of smallpox without inoculation, in 1731, showed how mild smallpox could be. At a time when sixty families had the disease among them, a fire broke out on 4 June, and burned down the town. It is said that 150 ill of smallpox were removed to gardens, hedgerows and the arches of bridges, and that only one of the whole number died[968]. This is usually cited to show the benefits of fresh air; but if it be true, it shows more than that.

The Foundling Hospital may seem to offer all the conditions for a fair trial of the question. It had been a standing rule of the Governors, since the opening of the charity in 1749, that all children received into it should be inoculated. Sir William Watson, who states the fact, adds that he himself was “in a situation of superintending every year the inoculation of some hundreds.” Still, the rule may not have been uniformly carried out; and even in this community of children, it was not always possible to learn on their admission whether they had had smallpox before in the natural way[969].

The lists of the inoculated are longer in the later periods than in the earlier: thus, from March, 1759 to May, 1766, the annual average is something under a hundred, the inmates having been 312 in 1763; but from May, 1766 to July, 1769, the annual average is some two hundred and fifty, the inmates in 1768 having been 438. Sir William Watson, in his essay upon the inoculations at the Foundling, breathes no hint that such a thing as natural smallpox ever happened there[970]; but in another context he does casually mention that there was an epidemic of sixty cases, with four deaths, in the end of 1762, and another epidemic in the following summer, of “many” cases, nineteen of which, with eleven fatalities, occurred in children who had lately been through the measles and were weakened in consequence[971]. Another epidemic, as I find by the apothecary’s book of weekly admissions to the infirmary, happened in the winter of 1765-66, twenty-six names being entered as admitted for “natural smallpox.” After that date all the great epidemics appear to have been of measles, whooping-cough, influenza or scarlatina; but almost every year smaller groups of “natural smallpox” occur, of which the following have been collected from the available records:

Foundling Hospital, London.

Natural Year Smallpox

1766 8 1767 2 1768 8 1769 7 1770 1 1771 2 1772 3 1773 1 1774 4 1775 3 1783 1 1784 0 1785 8 (or 16?) 1786 0 1787 5 1788 4

The occurrence of one or more cases seems to have been the signal for a general inoculation; or, again, it may be that the few cases of natural smallpox in the infirmary at one time had followed a general inoculation. Thus, in June-July, 1767, one case is entered on the second day from the inoculation (of a large number), and another on the fourth day. Again, in Nov.-Dec., 1768, one of the four cases of natural smallpox is marked “soon after his inoculation.”

The received cases in which inoculation failed to save individuals from the natural smallpox are few. Besides those already given for the first period of the practice, and the case from Heberden, there are six fully detailed by Kite of Gravesend, in two groups of three each, all in the spring of 1790[972]. Apart from exact records, there are various testimonies more or less trustworthy. The Marquis of Hertford is said to have told Dr Jenner that his father, having been inoculated by Caesar Hawkins, the serjeant surgeon, and thereafter attended by him during a tour abroad, caught smallpox at Rheims and died[973]. Bromfeild, surgeon to Queen Charlotte, is said to have “abandoned the practice of inoculation in consequence of its failure[974].” Jenner and his friends made a collection of cases in which inoculation had failed, to the number of “more than one thousand, and fortunately seventeen of them in families of the nobility[975].” A Bath surgeon said he had heard of “innumerable” cases of attacks of natural smallpox long after inoculation, and had himself professionally seen “not a few[976].” A surgeon of Frampton on Severn knew of four cases, out of five inoculated together in 1784, that took smallpox afterwards in the natural way, of whom one died[977]. In an epidemic of smallpox at Enmore Green, a suburb of Shaftesbury, in 1808, a surgeon from Shaston found that “nearly twenty” of the victims had been inoculated “by the late Mr John White” about ten years before, and were supposed to have had it “very fine[978].” Dr John Forbes learned that some nineteen cases of natural smallpox in and around Chichester in 1821-22 were of inoculated persons[979]. It would be incorrect to say that such cases could be multiplied indefinitely; on the contrary, they are hard to find. Whether that shows that inoculation was on the whole a success, to the extent that it was tried, or that its failures are in part unrecorded, I am not competent to decide. But it cannot be doubted that the usual estimates of the saving of life by inoculation were extravagant and fallacious. La Condamine, a mathematician, counted up the saving to the slave-owner in an ideal plantation of three hundred negroes[980]. Watson, with the epidemics in the Foundling fresh in his memory, estimated that inoculation might have saved 23,000 out of the 23,308 who had died of smallpox in London in ten years, 1758-68[981]. Haygarth[982] reckoned that 351 might have been saved by inoculation of the 378 children who died of smallpox at Chester from 1772 to 1777. Woodville, who wrote the history of inoculation down to the advent of Sutton, declared in 1796 that the art of inoculation, originally a fortuitous discovery, “is capable of saving more lives than the whole materia medica[983].” Arnot, the historian of Edinburgh (1779), asserted inoculation to be “a remedy so compleat that we hesitate not in the least to pronounce those parents, who will not inoculate their children for the smallpox, accessory to their death[984].” The College of Physicians, in a formal minute of 1754, pronounced it “highly salutary to the human race.”

Despite all those academic pronouncements, inoculation was somehow not a practical success. It cannot be maintained that it failed because the people were averse to it; for it continued to be in popular request far into the 19th century, until it was at length suppressed by statute. For the present we may return to the proper subject of epidemic smallpox, premising, on the ground of what has been said, that inoculation made but little difference to the epidemiological history.

The Epidemiology continued from 1721.

The ordinary course of smallpox in Britain was little touched by inoculation. The inoculators were like the fly upon the wheel, with the important difference that they did indeed raise the dust. The writers who kept up the old Hippocratic or Sydenhamian habit of recording the prevalent maladies of successive seasons, such as Huxham, Hillary[985], and Barker, of Coleshill, while they dealt with epidemics impartially and comprehensively, were as if by a common instinct adverse to the fuss made about inoculation. Says Barker, in an essay against inoculation during the Suttonian enthusiasm, “It is undoubtedly a great error that the smallpox is now considered the only bugbear in the whole list of diseases, which, if people can get but over, they think they are safe.” This hits fairly enough the disproportionate share given to inoculation in the medical writings of the time, while it is made more pointed by the author’s suggestions for a scientific study of the conditions of smallpox itself[986]. It is still possible, with much trouble, to bring together the data for a scientific handling of the disease in the 18th century, thanks most of all to the exact school of observers or statisticians which began with Percival, of Manchester, and was continued to the end of the century by Haygarth, Heysham, Ferriar, Aikin and others. The best of the original English inoculators, Nettleton of Halifax, has also left a large number of interesting statistics relating to epidemics in Yorkshire and other northern counties in the years 1721-23; also, upon his suggestion, the figures were procured from many more smallpox epidemics in other parts of England down to 1727. It will be convenient to resume the history with these, as they come next in order after the London epidemic of 1720, at which point the interlude of inoculation came in. The following is a complete table of the figures collected from various sources: it will be observed that most parts of England are represented, the fullest representation being of the northern counties.

Censuses of Smallpox Epidemics in England, 1721-30.

Percentage Locality of the Deaths of Epidemic Period Authority Cases Fatalities

Halifax[987] winter of 1721 Nettleton, 276 43 15·9 to April 1722 Phil. Trans. XXXII. 51 Rochdale[988] " " 177 38 21·4 Leeds[989] " " 792 189 23·8 Halifax parish 1722 Ibid. p. 221 297 59 19·9 towards Bradford Halifax parish, " " 268 28 10·4 another part Bradford " " 129 36 27·9 Wakefield " " 418 57 13·6 Ashton under Lyne[990] " " 279 56 20·0 Macclesfield " " 302 37 12·2 Stockport " " 287 73 25·4 Hatherfield " " 180 20 11·1 Chichester[991] 1722 Whitaker, 994 168 16·9 (to 15 Oct.) Ibid. p. 223 Haverfordwest 1722 Perrot Williams, 227 52 22·9 Ibid. Barstand, Ripponden, " Nettleton, in 230 38 16·5 Sorby, and part of Jurin’s Acct. Halifax parish for 1723, p. 7 4 miles from the town Bolton 1723? Jurin’s Acct. 406 89 21·6 for 1723, p. 8 Ware " " 612 72 11·7 Salisbury " " 1244 165 13·2 Rumsey, Hants " " 913 143 15·6 Havant " " 264 61 23·1 Bedford " " 786 147 18·4 Shaftesbury 1724? Ibid. for 660 100 15·1 1724, p. 12 Dedham, near " " 339 106 31·3 Colchester Plymouth " " 188 32 17·2 Aynho, near 27 Sept. 1723 Rev. Mr Wasse, 133 25 18·8 Banbury to 29 Dec. 1724 rector, Ibid. for 1725, p. 55 Stratford on Avon " Dr Letherland, 562 89 15·8 Ibid. Bolton le Moors " Dr Dixon, Ibid. 341 64 18·8 Cobham " Sir Hans Sloane, 105 20 19·0 Ibid. Dover 29 Sept. 1725 Dr Lynch of 503 61 12·1 to 25 Dec. 1726 Canterbury, in Jurin’s Acct. for 1726, p. 17 Deal 25 Dec. 1725 " 362 33 9·1 to 29 Nov. 1726 Kemsey, " Dr Beard, in 73 15 20·5 near Jurin, Ibid. Worcester Uxbridge[992] 1727 Dr Thorold, in 140 51 36·4 Scheuchzer’s Acct. for 1727 and 1728 Hastings 1729-30 Dr Frewen, 705 97 13·7 Phil. Trans. XXXVII. 108

The years 1722 and 1723, to which most of these epidemics belong, were one of the greater smallpox periods in England. In Short’s abstracts of the parish registers those years stand out very prominently by reason of the excess of deaths over births in a large proportion of country parishes (see above, p. 66); and, according to Wintringham’s annals, it was not fever that made them fatal years, but smallpox, along with autumnal dysenteries and diarrhoeas. Of one epidemic centre in the winter of 1721-22, which is not in the table, the district of Hertford, we obtain a glimpse from Maitland, who repaired thither from London to practise inoculation.

“I own that it seem’d probable that the six persons in Mr Batt’s family might have catched the smallpox of the girl that was inoculated; but it is well-known that the smallpox were rife, not only at Hertford but in several villages round it, many months before any person was inoculated there: witness Mr Dobb’s house in Christ’s Hospital buildings, where he himself died of the worst sort with purples, and his children had it; some other families there, and particularly Mr Moss’s, (where the above-named Elizabeth Harrison, inoculated in Newgate, attended several persons under it to prove whether she would catch the distemper by infection); both Latin boarding-schools, Mr Stout’s and Mr Lloyd’s families, Mr John Dimsdale’s coachman and his wife, and Mr Santoon’s maid-servant, who was brought to the same house and died of the confluent kind of the smallpox[993].”

Here we have the same indication of adults attacked as well as children, which we find in Dover’s practice in London in 1720 and in all the 17th century and early 18th century references to smallpox. The most detailed account is that given for the epidemic of 1724-25 at Plymouth by Huxham, who was not an inoculator but purely an epidemiologist and practitioner in the old manner.

The epidemic was a very severe one and of an anomalous type. Adults, according to his particular references and his general statement, must have been freely attacked. The major part of the adult cases, he says, proved fatal, including one of an old gentlewoman of 72,--“a very uncommon exit for a person of her years”! When the disease raged most severely, some children had it very favourably and required no other physic than to be purged at the end of the attack. The pustules were apt to be small and to remain unfilled. In some there were miliary vesicles, dark red or filled with limpid serum, in the interstices between the smallpox pustules. Some had abundance of purple petechiae among the pocks, the latter also being livid. Only one person survived of all who had that haemorrhagic type. Swelling of the face and throat was also seldom recovered from; in such cases that did well, the maxillary and parotid glands would remain swollen for some time. “It was a remarkable instance of the extraordinary virulence of these smallpox that the women (tho’ they had had the smallpox before and some very severely too) who constantly attended those ill of the confluent kind, whether children or grown persons, had generally several pustules broke out on their face, hands and breast.... I knew one woman that had more than forty on one side of her face and breast, the child she attended frequently leaning on those parts on that side.”

Huxham appears to have adopted the whole Sydenhamian practice of blooding, blistering, purging, and salivating. For the last he used calomel: “Two adults and some children in the confluent sort never salivated. Some very young children drivelled exceedingly through the course of the distemper. A diarrhoea very seldom happened to children[994].”

Corresponding very nearly in time to Huxham’s malignant and anomalous constitution of smallpox at Plymouth, and agreeing exactly with his generalities as to children and adults, there is an interesting table of the ages and fatalities of those who were attacked at Aynho, in Northamptonshire, six miles from Banbury. It was then a small market town, and its smallpox for some fifteen months of 1723-24, as recorded by the rector of the parish, may be taken as a fair instance of what happened at intervals (usually long ones) in the rural districts in the earlier years of the 18th century[995]:

above Ages 0-1 -2 -3 -4 -5 -10 -15 -20 -25 -30 -40 -50 -60 -70 70 Total

Cases 0 0 3 4 6 15 33 14 16 9 12 10 4 4 2 132 Deaths 0 0 2 1 0 1 3 1 3 3 3 4 1 2 1 25

The small fatality of the disease between the ages of five years and twenty is according to the experience of all times. But the considerable proportion of attacks at the higher ages would hardly have been found anywhere in England, not even in a country parish, a generation or two later, although it is consistent with all that is known of smallpox in the 17th century and in the first years of the 18th[996].

Another glimpse of a prolonged smallpox epidemic of the same period in a town is given in Frewen’s census of Hastings, with a population of 1636 (males 782, females 854). The disease was prevalent for about a year and a half, and had ceased previous to 28 January, 1732[997]. The table accounts for the whole population:

The number of those that recovered of the smallpox (including four that were inoculated) 608 Died of it 97 Escaped it 206 Died of other diseases since the smallpox raged there 50 The whole number of inhabitants in that town are 1636

Leaving out the fifty who died of other diseases as persons who may or may not have had smallpox, it appears that 725 of the inhabitants of Hastings had been through the smallpox in previous epidemics, that 705 were attacked in this epidemic, and that 206 had hitherto escaped, some of them to be attacked, doubtless, in the future. The proportion of attacks above the age of childhood in the epidemic of 1730-31 would have depended on the length of time since the last great epidemic; the interval was probably a long one, by the large number of susceptible persons in the town, just as at Boston, Massachusetts, in 1721 and 1752, and at Charleston, Carolina, in 1738[998]; and, as the fact is known for these places, so it is probable that the epidemic at Hastings had included many adolescents and adults.

On the other hand, where smallpox came in epidemics at short intervals, or where it was always present, the incidence, even in the first half of the 18th century, was much more exclusively upon childhood. Thus at Nottingham there was always some smallpox, with a great outburst perhaps once in five years. The year 1736 was one of those fatal periods of smallpox, the victims being “mostly children.” From the end of May to the beginning of September, great numbers were swept away; the burials in St Mary’s churchyard were 104 in May; the burials from all causes for the whole year exceeded the baptisms by 380; there had been no such mortality since thirty years. Such excessive incidence of smallpox upon the earliest years of life happened in places where the infant mortality was high from all causes. Nottingham was one of those places. Leaving out the great smallpox year, 1736, the other seven years of the period 1732-39 had a total of 2590 baptisms to 2226 burials, of which burials no fewer than 1072 were of “infants,” meaning probably children under five years, although the work of Harris on the Acute Diseases of Infants, which was current at that time, defines the infantine age as under four years[999].

The years of distress and typhus fever in England, Scotland, and Ireland from 1740 to 1742 were another great period of smallpox epidemics throughout the country. The mortality from that cause is known to have been excessive in Norwich, Blandford, Edinburgh and Kilmarnock, which may be taken as samples of a larger number of epidemics in the same years. The association of much smallpox of a fatal type with much typhus fever, which can be traced in the London bills from an early period, is at length seen to be the rule for the country at large. After 1740-42, the next instances of it were in 1756 and 1766: it is most definitely indicated again in 1798-1800, very clearly in 1817-19, and in 1837-39. In all the later instances smallpox was the peculiar scourge of the infants and children in times of distress, while the contagious fever was as distinctively fatal to the higher ages. There is some reason to think that the law of incidence was the same in populous cities in 1740-42.

Thus at Edinburgh there died in the two worst years of the distress (population in 1732 estimated at 32,000)[1000]:

Edinburgh Mortalities.

1740 1741

Under two years 439 562 From two to five 198 269 From five to ten 53 93 Above ten 547 687 ---- ---- 1237 1611

Fever 161 304 Flux 3 36 Consumption 278 349 Aged 102 156 Suddenly 56 62 {Smallpox 274 206 {Measles 100 112 {Chincough 26 101 {Convulsions 22 16 {Teething 111 141 {Stillborn 29 50 Other diseases 77 78

More than half the deaths were under five years, and among those deaths it will be necessary to include most of the smallpox mortality. That disease in the two exceptional years made 17 per cent. of all deaths, or one in six. But in its somewhat steady prevalence among children in Edinburgh from year to year, smallpox accounted for one death in about ten, as in the following[1001]:

Deaths by Smallpox and all causes in Edinburgh, including St Cuthbert’s parish, 1744-63.

All Dead of Year Burials Smallpox

1744 1345 167 1745 1463 141 1746 1712 128 1747 1200 71 1748 1286 167 1749 1132 192 1750 1038 64 1751 1241 109 1752 1187 147 1753 1105 70 ----- ---- 12709 1256 or 1 in 9·6

1754 1215 104 1755 1187 89 1756 1316 126 1757 1267 113 1758 1001 52 1759 1136 232 1760 1123 66 1761 903 6 1762 1305 274 1763 1160 123 ----- ---- 11613 1185 or 1 in 9·8

As in other epidemics, it was not until its second year that the smallpox reached Norwich. The mortality had been enormous in 1741, owing to the distress and the fever, 1456 burials to 851 baptisms; but in 1742 the burials were 1953 (to 825 baptisms), the excess over the previous year being ascribed, in general terms, to the smallpox[1002]. It is probable that the enormous excess of burials over baptisms at Newcastle in 1741 was due in great part to the same disease among the children; but the statistics do not show it.

Northampton is an instance of a town with very moderate mortality for the 18th century; for that and other reasons its bills were used by Price as the basis of a table of the expectation of life. It had certainly shared in the fever epidemic of 1741 and 1742, for in the latter of those years the annual bill shows the very high fever-mortality of 37 in 130 deaths from all causes in All Saints’ parish, which had fully one-half of the population. But in that year there are no smallpox deaths recorded, and only nine in the next four years. The great periodic outburst of smallpox came in 1747[1003]:

Smallpox in Northampton, 1747.

Percentage Parish Cases Deaths of Fatalities

All Saints 485 76 15·6 St Sepulchre 175 21 12·0 St Giles 131 23 17·5 St Peter 30 6 20·0 ----- ---- ------ 821 126 15·3 or 1 in 6·5

Of the 76 deaths in All Saints’ parish only 58 were buried there. The deaths from all causes in that parish were 189, of which 103, or 54 per cent., were under five years of age, and 10 between five and ten years. Next year, when things had improved much, although the mortality was still high, All Saints’ parish had 119 burials, of which 47, or 40 per cent., were under five years, and 4 from five to ten, only three of the deaths being from smallpox. Only a few smallpox deaths appear in the bills of All Saints’ parish until 1756 and 1757, when an epidemic occurred, part of it in each year, which produced in that greatest of the four parishes 85 burials, or half as many again as in the epidemic of ten years before. It is singular that the deaths under and over five are in a very different ratio in the two successive years of the epidemic:

All Saints’ Parish, Northampton.

1756 1757

All deaths 140 135 Smallpox deaths 31 54 All deaths under 2 54 24 " " 2-5 12 18 " " 5-10 7 21 " " 10-20 5 6 " " 20-30 13 18 " " 30-40 7 12 " " 40-50 4 5 " " above 50 38 31

This looks as if a good many more had died of smallpox at the higher ages in the second year of its prevalence than in the first; but the great difference between the deaths under two in 1756 and 1757 is explained chiefly by the article “convulsions,” which is 28 in the former year and only 10 in the latter.

In Boston, Lincolnshire, a town almost as healthy as Northampton, the intervals between epidemics of smallpox were almost as long, and the effect in raising the mortality for the year nearly the same. The population in the last year but one of the table was 3470. The deaths averaged 104 in a year, the smallpox deaths 9·45, or one in eleven[1004].

Smallpox in Boston, Lincolnshire, 1749-68.

Died by Year Baptised Buried Smallpox

1749 68 120 48 1750 80 93 -- 1751 55 59 -- 1752 88 85 -- 1753 79 73 -- 1754 88 111 1 1755 74 102 19 1756 66 110 34 1757 93 86 4 1758 83 88 4 1759 102 91 -- 1760 106 84 2 1761 80 94 -- 1762 95 134 3 1763 92 206 69 1764 130 102 5 1765 112 113 -- 1766 144 117 -- 1767 129 95 -- 1768 131 117 --

This was a favourable instance of urban smallpox in the 18th century, Boston having “no circumstances of narrow streets, crowded houses, manufactories or want of medical assistance.” We may compare with it an industrial town only a little larger, the weaving town of Kilmarnock, Ayrshire, the smallpox epidemics of which came as follows[1005]:

Smallpox in Kilmarnock, 1728-63.

Died by Year Baptised Buried Smallpox

1728 111 162 66 1729 -- -- -- 1730 -- -- -- 1731 -- -- -- 1732 -- -- -- 1733 -- -- 45 1734 -- -- -- 1735 -- -- -- 1736 135 147 66 1737 -- -- -- 1738 -- -- -- 1739 -- -- -- 1740 95 164 66 1741 -- -- -- 1742 -- -- -- 1743 -- -- -- 1744 -- -- -- 1745 116 102 74 1746 -- -- 8 1747 -- -- -- 1748 -- -- 2 1749 134 149 79 1750 -- -- 5 1751 -- -- 1 1752 -- -- -- 1753 -- -- 1 1754 146 203 95 1755 -- -- -- 1756 -- -- -- 1757 125 132 37 1758 -- -- 9 1759 -- -- -- 1760 -- -- -- 1761 -- -- -- 1762 132 173 66 1763 -- -- 2

Although Kilmarnock had an average annual excess of baptisms over burials (134 to 107), which was more than that of Boston, its smallpox mortality was higher than that of the Lincolnshire market town. On an annual average, one death in eleven from all causes was by smallpox at Boston, one in six at Kilmarnock. In the former the epidemics came at intervals of about five years, in the latter at intervals of three or four. The oftener the epidemic came, the earlier in life it attacked children; and in all subsequent experience it has been found that smallpox is far more mortal to the ages below five than to the ages from five to ten or fifteen. More generally, the conditions were worse for young children in a weaving town than in a market town of nearly the same size. In the populous weaving parish of Dunse, 130 children are said to have died of smallpox in 1733, during a space of three months[1006].

The ages at which deaths from smallpox occurred in Kilmarnock from 1728 to 1763 are strikingly different from those already given for the small market town or village of Aynho, near Banbury, in 1723-24; at the latter the greater part of the fatalities, although not of the attacks, happened to persons between twenty and fifty; at the former nine-tenths of the deaths were of infants and young children, as in the following:

Ages at Death from Smallpox, Kilmarnock, 1728-63.

Deaths at all Under One to Two to Three to Four to Five to Above Age not ages One Two Three Four Five Six Six stated

622 118 146 136 101 62 23 27 9

This almost exclusive incidence of fatal smallpox upon infants and young children in a weaving town during the middle third of the 18th century we shall find abundantly confirmed for English manufacturing and other populous towns in the last third of the 18th century, and thereafter until the middle of the 19th century. On the other hand, the less populous towns and the country districts continued in the 18th century to furnish a fair share of adult cases, for the reason that epidemics came to them at longer intervals, wherein many had passed from infancy to childhood, and even from childhood to youth or maturity, without once encountering the risk of epidemic contagion.

Of such less populous places we have an instance in Blandford, Dorset. Particulars of its smallpox have been given in connexion with general inoculations; here let us note that in this typical market town of 2110 inhabitants (in 1773), the known epidemics were in 1731, 1741, 1753 and 1766--at intervals of ten or a dozen years. In the villages the intervals were longer. Haygarth gives the instance of three parishes in Kent with only ten deaths from smallpox in twenty years, and of Seaford, in Sussex, with one death “eleven years ago[1007].” An authentic instance is the parish of Ackworth, Yorkshire, whose register of burials contains only one smallpox death in the ten years 1747-57, while there are thirteen such deaths in it in the next ten-years period, clearly the effects of an epidemic, perhaps in 1766[1008]. This parish, judged by the excess of births, was not so healthy as many[1009], while its mortality by “fevers” was considerable. The following somewhat general statements are made for the parish of Kirkmaiden, Wigtonshire[1010]:

1717. “Nearly thirty-seven died of the smallpox.” 1721. Forty-eight died, “mostly of fevers.” 1725. Forty-three died, “mostly of the smallpox.”

By means of this law of periodic return, at short intervals in the populous industrial towns, at longer intervals in the market towns, and at very long intervals in the villages, we may realize in a measure what smallpox was at its worst. It was the great infective scourge of infancy and childhood, admitting but few or feeble rivals or competitors, as we shall see in the historical accounts of measles, whooping-cough and scarlatina. The table of epidemics from 1721 to 1727, given at p. 518, is of a kind that might have been furnished by any series of years in the 18th century; they were so much of a commonplace that hardly anyone thought of chronicling them unless for a special statistical purpose, such as the inoculation controversy. Thus, the Salisbury epidemic of 1723, with 1244 cases and 165 deaths, must have been only one of a series at intervals, which may or may not have become more frequent, or of different age-incidence, or of more fatal type, as the century proceeded. We have a glimpse of one of them in 1752-3. Lord Folkestone having given a hundred pounds to the poor of Salisbury, it was ordered on 15 December, 1752, “that five shillings be given to every inhabitant who hath had the smallpox in the natural way since 1 September, or that shall have it hereafter.” The epidemic went on for months; it was not until the end of 1753 that the mayor advertised the city free of smallpox. In September of that year ten guineas were voted to Mr Hall, the apothecary, for his trouble during the smallpox, and a like sum to Mr Dennis, the surgeon[1011].

The year 1753 was also the time of one of the periodical Blandford outbreaks. For a year or two before there had been much smallpox at Plymouth, the account of which by Huxham will serve as a sample of his numerous references to the disease there from the beginning of his annals in 1728.

In May, 1751, smallpox was brought in by Conway’s regiment; it spread in July and August, becoming worse in type in the autumn as it became more common. In January 1752 it was still prevalent, the pustules often crude, crystalline, undigested to the end; sometimes very confluent, small and sessile; sometimes black and bloody, attended now and then with petechiae. In March the type grew more mild; in April the malady was still up and down, some cases being of a bad sort. It became more frequent again in June, and was epidemic all the summer, the eruption often confluent, small, sometimes black, with haemorrhages from the nose, especially in children. In August it was epidemic everywhere, and more fatal, becoming milder in September and October. In December, “the crusts of the black confluent kind many times remained for at least thirty days after the eruption.” It declined from January, 1753, and entirely ceased in May, having had a prevalence of two years[1012].

Smallpox in London in the middle of the 18th century.

There is hardly any epidemic malady in London of which so few particular records remain as of smallpox, except in the bills of mortality. The monthly notes in the Gentleman’s Magazine from 1751 to 1755 by Dr Fothergill, who practised at that time in White Hart Court, Lombard Street (having afterwards removed westward to Harpur Street, Red Lion Square), contain the following references to it:

1751, May. Smallpox uncommonly mild in general, few dying of it in comparison of what happens in most years.

1751, December. Smallpox began to make their appearance more frequently than they had done of late, and became epidemical in this month. They were in general of a benign kind, tolerably distinct, though often very numerous. Many had them so favourably as to require very little medical assistance, and perhaps a greater number have got through them safely than has of late years been known.

1752, January. A distinct benign kind of smallpox continued to be the epidemic of this month.... A few confluent cases, but rarely. February--Children and young persons, unless the constitution is very unfavourable, get through it very well, and the height to which the weekly bills are swelled ought to be considered in the present case as an argument of the frequency, not fatality, of this distemper.

1752, April. Smallpox continued to be the principal epidemic, as in the preceding months; during which time it attacked most of those who had not hitherto had the distemper, and it is now spread into the suburbs and the neighbouring villages, but still in a favourable way in general. Some have the confluent, a few the bleeding kind, but these are not very common.

1752, June. Smallpox still continues, not many escaping who have not had it before.

1752, July. Smallpox inclined to become malignant, but the constitution on the whole remarkably mild. Children from one to three years old have, I believe, suffered more from the distemper during this constitution than those of any other ages; at least it has so fallen out under the writer’s observation.

1753, December. Smallpox of a bad type.

1754, August. Smallpox frequent in many parts of the City, and eastern suburbs especially. In general the kind was mild, distinct and favourable. Out of sixteen who had the disease in a certain district, of different ages, one only died. In some it was very virulent, with livid petechiae.

1754, December. Smallpox not unfrequent. Many had the worst kind seen for years.

1755, January. Smallpox more favourable.

Fothergill, who pointed out the defects of the London bills of mortality and made a serious attempt to get them reformed[1013], was disposed to take their figures of smallpox deaths as on the whole trustworthy: “The smallpox, of all diseases mentioned in the weekly bills, is perhaps the only one of which we have any tolerably exact account, it being a disease which the most ignorant cannot easily mistake for another.” Reserving this opinion for some critical remarks in the sequel, we may now resume the London statistics from the year last given.

Smallpox Mortality in London, 1721-60.

Deaths Deaths from from Year smallpox all causes

1721 2,375 26,142 1722 2,167 25,750 1723 3,271 29,197 1724 1,227 25,952 1725 3,188 25,523 1726 1,569 29,647 1727 2,379 28,418 1728 2,105 27,810 1729 2,849 29,722 1730 1,914 26,761 1731 2,640 25,262 1732 1,197 23,358 1733 1,370 29,233 1734 2,688 26,062 1735 1,594 23,538 1736 3,014 27,581 1737 2,084 27,823 1738 1,590 25,825 1739 1,690 25,432 1740 2,725 30,811 1741 1,977 32,169 1742 1,429 27,483 1743 2,029 25,200 1744 1,633 20,606 1745 1,206 21,296 1746 3,236 28,157 1747 1,380 25,494 1748 1,789 23,069 1749 2,625 25,516 1750 1,229 23,727 1751 998 21,028 1752 3,538 20,485 1753 774 19,276 1754 2,359 22,696 1755 1,988 21,917 1756 1,608 20,872 1757 3,296 21,313 1758 1,273 17,576 1759 2,596 19,604 1760 2,181 19,830

The year 1752, to which Fothergill refers most fully in the notes cited, had the highest total of deaths from smallpox in the period 1721-60, namely, 3538, and was exceeded by only two years in the latter part of the century, 1772, with 3992 deaths and 1796 with 3548. Fothergill says twice that the disease in 1752 was on the whole mild, but so universal that not many escaped it who had not had it before; and that children from one to three years suffered most from it. As the year was not an unhealthy one in general, this epidemic of smallpox may be chosen to show its effect upon the weekly mortalities, of children in particular.

London Weekly Mortalities: Smallpox Epidemic of 1752.

Under Two Five Convulsions Week All two to to Smallpox deaths Ending deaths years five ten deaths

March 3 438 162 54 19 64 113 10 441 165 40 16 63 116 17 477 177 56 15 76 110 24 456 161 61 19 87 111 31 471 169 62 8 96 117 April 7 500 185 58 14 87 129 14 431 144 52 27 76 99 21 397 145 37 18 77 106 28 458 161 47 25 94 98 May 5 421 133 52 17 81 85 12 414 140 62 24 93 101 19 461 235 52 20 119 104 26 456 157 66 24 120 92 June 2 452 159 65 28 125 98 9 415 172 51 17 113 87 16 421 165 56 20 120 98 23 380 160 57 15 102 82 30 353 127 52 19 92 74 July 7 390 142 68 19 107 87 14 339 142 44 12 79 98 21 351 144 38 23 73 97 28 368 168 53 14 92 93 Aug. 4 316 141 37 13 72 90 11 350 155 44 13 58 99 18 297 145 26 9 43 98 25 371 168 46 12 57 109

The weeks with highest smallpox mortalities have not always the highest deaths from all causes; but they correspond to a marked rise of the deaths from two to five years. If the table were continued to the end of the year, to show the decline of smallpox to a fourth or fifth of its highest weekly figures, the decline in the deaths from two to five, as well as from five to ten, would be seen to correspond more strikingly[1014]. The other notable suggestion of the figures is that the article “convulsions,” which included at that time nearly the whole of infantile diarrhoea, is not so high as usual when the article smallpox rises most. The highest weekly deaths from convulsions are in the first months of the year, when the smallpox epidemic was beginning, and in September and October, the season of infantile diarrhoea, when the smallpox epidemic was nearly spent.

The ages at which persons died in the several diseases were not given in the Bills, although they were recorded in the books of Parish Clerks’ Hall; so that the incidence of smallpox mortality upon infants and young children cannot be proved for the capital as it can for other great towns in the 18th century. Not only can it not be proved, but it was not the fact that the disease was so exclusively an affair of childhood as it was in the populous provincial centres. The London population was peculiar in receiving a constant recruit direct from the country. Many of them came from parishes where, as Lettsom says, “the smallpox seldom appears”; they must often have passed their childhood without meeting with it, to encounter the risk when they came to London[1015]. Many of the class of domestic servants were in that position; and it was especially for them that the London Smallpox Hospital existed, the admission to it being by subscribers’ letters, as in the voluntarily supported hospitals at present.

Its small accommodation was given up to some extent also to persons in exceptionally distressed circumstances[1016]. From its opening on 26 September, 1746, to 24 March, 1759, it had admitted 3946 cases, of which 1030 had died; these are stated in the annual reports to have been “mostly adults, in many cases admitted after great irregularities and when there was little hope of a cure”; so that the practice of this hospital alone may be taken as evidence of several hundreds of adult cases of smallpox in the year in London (the whole annual cases averaging perhaps twelve thousand).

The exact statistics which we shall come to in a later period of the century, for Manchester, Chester, Warrington and Carlisle, show that nearly all the deaths by smallpox were under five years; and it can hardly be doubted that the bulk of them in London also, with all its influx of country people, were at the same age-period. “Most born in London,” said Lettsom, “have smallpox before they are seven.” It is singular, therefore, that smallpox should have caused a much smaller proportion of the deaths from all causes in London than in the populous provincial cities. The annual average for London was one smallpox death to about ten or twelve other deaths; in other large towns it was one in about six or seven. Lettsom held that the proportion in London would have come out nearly the same if the classification of deaths in the London bills had been correct, the generic article “convulsions” having swallowed up, in his opinion, a large number of the smallpox deaths of infants. An assertion such as that is more easily made than refuted. Everyone agreed that there was no difficulty in recognising smallpox[1017]. Whoever had seen confluent smallpox all over an infant’s body was not likely to have set down its death under any other name, for there is hardly anything more distinctive or more loathsome. It is possible, however, that many infants with mild smallpox had died of complications, such as autumnal diarrhoea. Sydenham, indeed, says as much under the year 1667, blaming the nurses for killing the infants by trying to check the diarrhoea. The truly incredible sacrifice of infant life in London in the 17th and 18th centuries by summer diarrhoea, as shown in another chapter, may have caused a certain number of deaths of infants to be classed under “griping in the guts” in the earlier period, and under “convulsions” in the later, which were primarily cases of smallpox. But the true probability of the matter--and it is wholly for us a question of probability--is that London’s smaller ratio of smallpox deaths and greater ratio of infantile deaths from other causes, was not artificially made by transferring deaths from the one to the other, but was actual, owing to a really greater liability of the London infants to die of other more or less nondescript maladies before smallpox could catch them[1018].

The Epidemiology continued to the end of the 18th century.

The London bills, which are the only continuous series of figures, show the following annual mortalities by smallpox from 1761 to the end of the century:

Smallpox Mortality in London, 1761-1800.

Smallpox All Year deaths deaths

1761 1,525 21,063 1762 2,743 26,326 1763 3,582 26,148 1764 2,382 23,202 1765 2,498 23,230 1766 2,334 23,911 1767 2,188 22,612 1768 3,028 23,639 1769 1,968 21,847 1770 1,986 22,434 1771 1,660 21,780 1772 3,992 26,053 1773 1,039 21,656 1774 2,479 20,884 1775 2,669 20,514 1776 1,728 19,048 1777 2,567 23,334 1778 1,425 20,399 1779 2,493 20,420 1780 871 20,517 1781 3,500 20,709 1782 636 17,918 1783 1,550 19,029 1784 1,759 17,828 1785 1,999 18,919 1786 1,210 20,454 1787 2,418 19,349 1788 1,101 19,697 1789 2,077 20,749 1790 1,617 18,038 1791 1,747 18,760 1792 1,568 20,213 1793 2,382 21,749 1794 1,913 19,241 1795 1,040 21,179 1796 3,548 19,288 1797 522 17,014 1798 2,237 18,155 1799 1,111 18,134 1800 2,409 23,068

The last twenty years of the century show a decrease in the annual averages of smallpox deaths, along with a decrease of deaths from all causes. The health of the capital had undoubtedly improved since the reign of George II., especially in the saving of infant life. But it is not worth while instituting a statistical comparison, for the reason that some large parishes, containing poor and unwholesome quarters, had become populous in the latter part of the century, but were not included in the bills, while some of the old parishes, including those of the City, were probably become less populous owing to the conversion of dwelling-houses into business premises of various kinds. The decrease of fever-deaths in the bills is closely parallel with the decrease of smallpox, and it is probable that both were real; but as there is an element of uncertainty in the data it would be unprofitable to abstract statistical ratios from them, or to aim at demonstrating numerically what can only be in a measure probable. Perhaps the safest generality from these London figures is that smallpox once more fluctuates a good deal from year to year, seldom, indeed, falling below a thousand deaths, but showing a considerable drop for several years after some greater epidemic, as in the earlier history. This becomes most obvious by exhibiting the mortality in a graphic tracing.

Manchester, which was a healthier place than the capital, having an excess of births over deaths, had a smallpox mortality for six successive years, 1769-1774, as follows, the population, exclusive of Salford, having been 22,481 by a careful survey in 1773[1019]:

Smallpox Deaths in Manchester.

Year All deaths Smallpox deaths

1769 549 74 1770 689 41 1771 678 182 1772 608 66 1773 648 139 1774 635 87 ----- ---- 3,807 589

Between a seventh and a sixth part of all the deaths in Manchester (15·3 per cent.) were from smallpox. All but one were under the age of ten years:

All deaths Under One to Two to Three to Five to Ten to by smallpox One year Two Three Five Ten Twenty

589 140 216 110 93 29 1

Manchester was one of the towns that had smallpox continuously from year to year at this period. It had a rapidly growing population, and an excess of births over deaths which was in great part due to the very large number of new families settling in it. It was probably this rapid increase of children that explained the great height of the smallpox mortality in 1781, namely, 344, rising from three deaths in January and falling to thirteen in December, the maximum being in the third quarter of the year[1020].

Liverpool, like Manchester, had smallpox among its infants and children steadily from year to year, and a higher rate of fatality from that cause than Manchester. With a population half as great again as that of Manchester, namely, 34,407 in 1773, it had the following deaths from smallpox, according to the figures taken from the registers by Dobson and supplied to Haygarth[1021]:

Smallpox Deaths in Liverpool.

Dead of Year Baptisms Burials smallpox

1772 1160 1085 219 1773 1192 1129 200 1774 1207 1420 243

The smallpox deaths were 1 in 5½ of all deaths. The figures also mean that nearly all the infants born in Liverpool, who survived the first months, must have gone through the smallpox.

Warrington, with a population (about 9000) one-fourth that of Liverpool, had a great periodic outbreak of smallpox in 1773, which caused about the same number of deaths that Liverpool had steadily in three successive years. The deaths were 207, with an incidence upon infants as remarkable as at Manchester. I reserve the figures for another section. Whether Warrington had much or any smallpox in the years between, it is known to have had fifty deaths in 1781, most of them in the first half of the year. Chester, in 1774, with a population half as great again as Warrington, namely, 14,713, had 1385 cases of smallpox, with 202 deaths, or 1 in 6·85, all the deaths being of children under five except 22, and those of children from five to ten. At the end of the epidemic a census showed that there were only 1060 persons in Chester who had not had smallpox. It was one of the healthier towns, which had a great smallpox mortality only in certain years; in 1772 it had 16 deaths, in 1773, only one death; the next great mortality after 1774 falling in 1777, when the deaths were 136, of which only 7 were in children above the age of seven years. In 1781 it had 7 deaths.

In the year 1781, when smallpox was so fatal to Manchester, Leeds also had an epidemic, 462 cases, with no fewer than 130 deaths, the population (in 1775) being 17,111, of whom only some seven hundred (or eleven hundred) at the end of the epidemic had not been through the natural smallpox.

At Carlisle, where the conditions of a greatly increased population (4158 in 1763 increased to 6299 in 1780) and weaving industries were the same as at Leeds, the smallpox deaths in a series of years were as follows[1022]:

Deaths by Smallpox at Carlisle, 1779-87.

Under Over Five Five Total years Years

1779 90 } 1780 4 }136 7 1781 19 } 1782 30 } 1783 19 17 2 1784 10 9 1 1785 38 39 0 1786 -- -- -- 1787 30 28 2 --- --- -- 241 229 12

The smallpox deaths were 13·37 per cent, of the deaths from all causes. The deaths from all causes under five years were 44·13 per cent.

Whitehaven, which had, like Liverpool, a large part of its labouring population housed in cellars, suffered severely from smallpox in 1783: “incredible numbers,” says Heysham, of Carlisle, were attacked, of whom “scarcely one in three survived.” The annual reports of its dispensary, which begin from that year, show a small number of calls to smallpox cases in most years; but it must have happened there, as Clark found it in Newcastle, that medical aid was not often sought for the children of the poor in smallpox unless they were dying. Smallpox was perhaps not peculiar among infantile troubles in that respect; but it is remarkable that it should have fallen so little under the notice of practitioners considering how important its aggregate effects were on the death-rate. In 1753 the readers of the Gentleman’s Magazine took some interest in the question whether smallpox required the aid of a physician or an apothecary, or whether a nurse were not sufficient: instances were adduced in support of the latter view, while the serious claims of smallpox to regular medical attendance were elaborately urged in a letter several columns long. At Newcastle, at all events, the prevalence and fatality of smallpox were actually unknown to Dr Clark, for all his zeal and statistical accuracy. Assuming from the experience of some other populous industrial towns, that it made a sixth part of the deaths from all causes, he estimated its annual mortality at 130.

Smallpox in Glasgow towards the end of the 18th century appears to have been more mortal to children than anywhere else in Britain. The figures are not known previous to 1783, from which year the laborious researches of Dr Robert Watt in the burial registers begin; but it is probable that the conditions were as favourable to smallpox at an earlier period[1023]. In the year 1755 its mortality is given thus: “buried, men 273, women 206, children 584, total 963[1024].”

The following table shows the Glasgow deaths from smallpox, and from all causes at all ages and at three age-periods under ten:

Glasgow Mortality by Smallpox and all causes, 1783-1800.

Smallpox All deaths All deaths All deaths Year All deaths deaths under Two 2-5 5-10

1783 1413 155 479 174 66 1784 1623 425 671 161 45 1785 1552 218 576 126 42 1786 1622 348 706 179 56 1787 1802 410 746 205 65 1788 1982 399 770 221 68 1789 1753 366 794 188 76 1790 1866 336 903 247 86 1791 2146 607 984 320 63 1792 1848 202 664 184 54 1793 2045 389 807 239 80 1794 1445 235 553 144 62 1795 1901 402 761 225 62 1796 1369 177 562 181 54 1797 1662 354 586 241 57 1798 1603 309 642 181 41 1799 1906 370 783 244 78 1800 1550 257 545 148 53

Dividing the period into three of six years each, and abstracting the ratios, Watt got the following result[1025], by which it appears that smallpox made between a fifth and a sixth of the whole mortality, and presumably a full third of all the deaths under five years:

Ratio under Ratio of Ratio of five years, Six-years period All deaths fevers smallpox all deaths

1783 to 1788 9994 12·65 19·55 50·06 1789 to 1794 11103 8·43 18·22 53·28 1795 to 1800 9991 8·24 18·70 51·03

The Glasgow figures bear out the rule that the greater the mortality of children from all causes, the greater the mortality from smallpox. The ratio of infantile deaths (under two) was actually higher in Glasgow in the end of the 18th century than in London during the very worst period of its history, the time of excessive drunkenness in the second quarter of the 18th century: the London deaths under two years were 38·6, and from two to five 11·37 per cent. of the annual average deaths from 1728 to 1737, while the Glasgow maxima were 42·38 and 11·90.

The examples last given are all of crowded industrial towns, the sanitary condition of which has been referred to in the chapter on Typhus. The market towns and the villages doubtless had the same relatively favourable experiences of smallpox which have been shown for them in the first half of the 18th century. It happens that the figures for Boston, Lincolnshire, of which a twenty-years series has been given already, are complete to the end of the century.

Smallpox Deaths in Boston, Lincolnshire, 1769-1800.

All Smallpox Year Births deaths deaths

1769 159 120 3 1770 140 166 78 1771 150 133 2 1772 138 130 6 1773 157 143 27 1774 160 112 -- 1775 162 186 55 1776 165 176 7 1777 165 131 6 1778 166 174 18 1779 173 195 3 1780 137 247[1026] -- 1781 136 193 19 1782 133 177 -- 1783 162 149 -- 1784 147 202 58 1785 168 124 4 1786 152 114 -- 1787 168 130 -- 1788 181 145 -- 1789 184 185 27 1790 204 126 -- 1791 218 93 2 1792 219 152 -- 1793 195 141 1 1794 197 148 -- 1795 217 161 1 1796 214 205 64 1797 240 166 -- 1798 227 112 -- 1799 229 133 -- 1800[1027] 225 147 1

The second division of the table covers the same years as the Glasgow table, but tells a very different tale. It shows a great excess of births over deaths, and smallpox coming at the same long and regular intervals as in the twenty-years period before 1769, but now causing only a fifteenth part of the whole annual average deaths, or about one-third as many of them as in Glasgow. Whether the other market towns and villages of England had improved equally cannot be proved, owing to the almost total absence of smallpox statistics from the country south of the Trent. It was partly an accident that the best statistics of smallpox all came from the northern half of the country, where population and industries were growing most; but it was in part also because there was more epidemic disease there than elsewhere in England.

Some particulars or generalities were recorded for the parishes of Scotland in the last ten years of the 18th century by parish ministers writing for the Statistical Account:

Some of the Highland parishes suffered greatly from time to time by epidemics of contagious fever and by smallpox. Kiltearn, in Eastern Ross, a parish in which “the greatest number of cottages are built of earth, and are usually razed to the ground once in five or seven years, when they are added to the dunghill,” was visited at intervals by infectious fever which spread from cottage to cottage, and by smallpox so disastrously in two successive years, 1777 and 1778, that above thirty children died in the first and no fewer than forty-seven in the second, owing, the minister thought, in part to improper management (Statistical Account of Scotland, I. 262). Something similar, although the numbers are not given, had happened in 1789 in the Western Ross parish of Applecross, which is now one vast deer-forest with two or three poor fishing hamlets. Of Kilmuir, in the extreme north-west of Skye, it is said, “In former times the smallpox prevailed to a very great extent, and sometimes almost depopulated the country.”

In the parish of Holywood, Dumfriesshire, the yearly average marriages were 5, the baptisms 16, and the burials 11; but in 1782, the burials rose to 20, “owing to an infectious fever in the west part of the parish” (said elsewhere to be “chiefly owing to poor living and bad accommodation during the winter season”); and in 1786 “the large number of deaths”--namely fourteen all told--“was owing to the ravages of the natural smallpox” (I. 22).

In Galston parish, Ayrshire, “smallpox makes frequent ravages.” In Eaglesham parish, near Glasgow, most of the infectious deaths are by fever, but smallpox also carries off great numbers (II. 118).

In the parish of Largs, Ayrshire, the number of deaths varied in different years “according as the smallpox or any species of dangerous fever prevailed”; in such cases the number of deaths were above forty, but in ordinary years between twenty and thirty, the mean annual average of births being about thirty. (II. 362.) But in Dunoon “we have commonly no sickness or fatal distemper except from old age and the complaints peculiar to children; and even these last are not in general fatal.” (II. 390.) In Forbes and Kearn, Aberdeenshire, “some children are lost by the smallpox, measles, and hooping-cough. But as the people in a great measure have got over their prejudices against inoculation, very few now die of the smallpox,” (IX. 193).

In Monquhitter, in the same county: “the chincough, measles and smallpox return periodically; but the virulence of these disorders is now greatly lessened by judicious management” (VI. 122). In Grange, Banffshire, “of late neither the smallpox nor any inflammatory disorders have been very prevalent or mortal; the complaints are principally nervous” (IX. 563). In Fyvie, Aberdeenshire, “there has been no prevalent distemper for some time except the putrid sore-throat” (IX. 461). But, in Dron, Perthshire, smallpox owing to the prejudice against inoculation, continues to carry off a great number of children; the hot regimen, and the keeping of the patients too long in their foul linen and clothes, are bad for the disease (IX. 468). In Fordyce, the ravages of the smallpox are very much abated by the practice of inoculation; the most prevalent distemper is fever (III. 48). In the sea-board parish of Rathen, smallpox occurred among the fishers (VI. 16). The fullest account is under the head of Thurso (XX. 502), supplied by John Williamson, surgeon: In December, 1796, the confluent smallpox became highly epidemic and fatal in the county of Caithness. In Thurso, more particularly, the epidemic was almost general, “and by my calculation one in four fell a victim.” The mortality became so general that a general inoculation was proposed, and more or less carried out in most parishes except Latheron.

The most exact record is for the parish of Torthorwald Dumfriesshire; in two ten-year periods and one of seven years the mortality was as follows (II. 12):

Infants under All one, cause deaths Smallpox Measles Chincough Fevers unknown

1764-73 100 2 1 1 10 9 1774-83 100 5 0 3 7 14 1784-90 80 7 0 0 8 6

Ages at deaths from all diseases.

All Under One to Two to Five to Ten to Forty to Above deaths One Two Five Ten Forty Seventy Seventy

1764-73 100 9 2 1 2 19 28 39 1774-83 100 16 7 2 2 8 34 31 1784-90 80 8 2 1 4 12 23 30

Twelve of the fourteen smallpox deaths occurred after the introduction of inoculation in 1776, and were ascribed by the parish minister to that source. Again, in the parish of Whittinghame, among the Lammermuir hills, “it is not remembered that this parish has ever been visited with any epidemical distemper”--its vital statistics for ten years, 1781-90, being (II. 352):

Marriages Baptisms Burials

54 189 81

On the other hand another Berwickshire parish, Dunse, much more populous and occupied with weaving, had an epidemic of smallpox in 1781, which brought the annual deaths up to 85, the births for the year being 54.

Authentic accounts of smallpox in Ireland in the 18th century are not easy to find, but it is clear from such notices of it as do exist that it could be widely prevalent and malignant in type. Rogers gives it a bad name in Cork in the first third of the century. During the great famine and fever of 1740-41 the deaths by smallpox are said to have been twice or thrice as many in Dublin as the deaths by fever[1028]. The smallpox mortality, being chiefly of infants and children, attracted no special notice, just as the smallpox deaths in the famine of 1817-18, although more than those by fever, are all but unmentioned in the various accounts for those years. Rutty, of Dublin, under the year 1745, says: “The smallpox was brought to us by a conflux of beggars from the north, occasioned by the late scarcity there; whose children, full of the smallpox, were frequently exposed in our streets.” His next mention of smallpox is in the winter of 1757-58, when the disease “kept pace in malignity,” with the prevalent spotted or typhus fever. Amidst numerous entries of fevers of all kinds (typhus, agues, miliary fevers), as well as scarlatina and angina, these are the only two references to smallpox in Rutty’s Dublin annals from 1726 to 1766. The annals kept by Sims of Tyrone overlap those of Rutty by a few years; and his first reference to smallpox is under the year 1766, which was a year of almost universal smallpox in England. Towards the close of 1766 and in the spring of 1767 the smallpox caused unheard-of havoc, scarcely one-half of all that were attacked escaping death. The disease had appeared the year before along the eastern coast, and proceeded slowly westward with so even a pace that a curious person might with ease have computed the rate of its progress. It had not visited the country for some years, and was not seen again until 1770, when it was less severe than in 1766-7[1029].

Little is heard of smallpox in the army and navy in the 18th century. Pringle says, “We have never known it of any consequence in the field.” On board ships of war it is mentioned occasionally, but very rarely in comparison with fever. Lind says that it prevailed in 1758 in the ‘Royal George,’ among a ship’s company of 880 men: “it destroyed four or five persons and left nearly a hundred unattacked[1030].” Trotter has an occasional reference to it in his naval annals from 1794 to 1797[1031]. One reason, and doubtless the chief reason, for its rarity in the services was that comparatively few escaped having it in childhood. The surgeon to the Cheshire Militia told Haygarth in 1781 that he found the whole regiment of six hundred to have had smallpox, except thirty[1032]. It does not appear that so great a ratio of sailors or marines were protected by a previous attack; for Trotter counted 70 in a 74-gun ship of war who had not had it, and based a calculation thereon that there were about 6000 men in the navy in the like case. It was comparatively rare, also, in the gaols, doubtless for the same reason that has been suggested for the army and navy. Howard mentions it in only three of the prisons visited by him[1033].

The range of severity in Smallpox, and its circumstances.

It has been abundantly shown in the foregoing, by the figures of Nettleton and others for Yorkshire and many other parts of England in 1722-27, of Frewen for Hastings in 1731, by the figures for each of the four parishes of Northampton in 1747, and by Haygarth’s census of each of the nine (or ten) parishes of Chester in 1774, that the average fatality of smallpox was one death in six or seven attacks[1034]. Any average of the kind represents a very wide range, as indeed the table of epidemics on p. 518 sufficiently shows; and as it is a matter of scientific interest to ascertain, if possible for smallpox as for other epidemic infections, the circumstances of its greater or lesser fatality, I shall endeavour to illustrate still farther the fact of its wide range from an extremely mild to an extremely severe disease, and to inquire into the circumstances or conditions of the same.

In the first place, selected ages were below or above the average. Isaac Massey, apothecary to Christ’s Hospital school, having boys to deal with at the most favourable of all ages for smallpox, found that not one had died of the 32 children “who are all that have had the smallpox, in the last two years, in that family”; and that “upon a strict review of thirty years business, and more, I have reason to think not 1 in 40 smallpox patients of the younger life have died, that is, above five and under eighteen[1035].” On the other hand the London Smallpox Hospital, whose patients, as the stereotyped phrase in the reports said, were “most of them adults, often admitted after great irregularities and when there are hardly any hopes of a cure,” had to acknowledge about one death in four or five cases on an average, which average, again, included such an unfavourable year as 1762, with 224 deaths in 844 cases.

Small groups of cases might perchance incline to mildness or to severity. Those of the former kind in the practice of one person were the more likely to be recorded. Thus Deering says that, in London about the year 1731, his method answered so well that “out of one hundred smallpox patients who were under my care within the course of two years, I lost but one. However, sincerity obliges me to own that the smallpocks were not during that whole time generally malignant, for some had them favourable, and the matter in others who had the confluent kind came in most by the eighth day to a good suppuration[1036].” This might be matched with an experience from the seventeenth century already given on the doubtful authority of an empiric[1037]. At Nottingham, in 1737, Deering claimed to have treated fifty-one cases with three deaths. Dr Robertson, physician to the fleet, says of his practice ashore: “When I arrived at Hythe in the beginning of April, 1783, the smallpox was pretty general.... My patients, about fifty in number, all did well[1038].”

The hold of a slave-ship may not seem a very good place to have smallpox in; and yet, in the voyage of the ‘Hannibal,’ 450 tons, 36 guns, from Guinea to Barbados in 1694, with 700 slaves on board, of whom 320 died on the passage from dysentery and white flux, the fatality of smallpox was so slight that “not above a dozen” were lost by it, “though we had a hundred sick of it at a time, and that it went through the ship[1039].” This gives some colour to that remarkable experience in the treatment of smallpox which occupied so much of the attention of Bishop Berkeley and of his friend Prior about the years 1746-7. The captain of a slave-ship on his return home made affidavit before the mayor of Liverpool, “in the presence of several principal persons of that town,” that smallpox attacked the slaves on board, when on the Guinea Coast, to the number of 170, that 169 of them who were induced to partake of tar-water recovered, and that the one negro who proved recalcitrant against the bishop of Cloyne’s panacea died of the disease[1040]. The somewhat low fatality of the Boston epidemic of 1752 (569 deaths in 5545 attacks not including the attacks among inoculated persons) was thought possibly due to the use of tar-water by many[1041].

Sometimes a run of highly favourable cases was followed by a succession of fatalities, or vice versa. Dr Mapletoft, to whom Sydenham dedicated a book, was originally in good physician’s practice and Gresham professor of physic; but he gave up these emoluments to enter the Church, and it is related by one who conversed with him in his extreme old age that he gave a singular reason for changing his profession, namely that, having treated smallpox cases for years without losing one (his treatment being to do nothing at all), he thereafter found that two or three died under his hands[1042].

Fothergill’s sixteen cases, in a certain locality of London in 1752, with only one death, are an instance of a run of mild cases. At the Whitehaven Dispensary in 1796 there was a good instance of how an average is made up; of the first seven cases attended from the dispensary three died, and then followed a run of thirty-four cases with only two of them fatal. Again, a high or low degree of fatality might seem to pertain to a particular spot. Bateman gives an instance in 1807 of 28 deaths within a month in a single court off Shoe Lane; also in 1812, “in one small court in Shoe Lane, seventeen individuals have lately been cut off by this variolous plague[1043].” One can understand that of the old Shoe Lane; but why should Nantwich have been reputed never to have its smallpox mortal? Worse things are told of country smallpox in Scotland than in England. In 1758, it is said, 8 died out of 28 near Cupar Fife, and in some parts of Teviotdale “three or four died for one that recovered[1044].” Similar unparalleled mortalities are reported by some parish ministers in the ‘Statistical Account.’

Cleghorn stationed with British troops in Minorca had a good opportunity of comparing two epidemics of smallpox, one in 1742 and the other in 1746. There had been no smallpox since 1725, so that when it did come in March, 1742, it found many susceptible of it: “every house was a hospital”; but “in proportion to the numbers, not many died; and what mortality there was happened chiefly among children at the breast and the common soldiers. About the end of July the disease suddenly disappeared, most of those who were susceptible of it having by that time undergone it.” Four and a half years after, in December, 1745, the infection was brought in by one of H. M. ships from Constantinople, and produced in many cases attacks of a bad type; which leads Cleghorn to remark that “it is a matter of chance whether the best or the worst kind is got in the natural way[1045].” Barbados had its epidemic maladies noted from season to season for several years by Hillary, who enters smallpox once: “May, 1752, smallpox epidemic: in general of the distinct kind; and in those few who had the confluent sort, they were generally of a good kind[1046].” Foreign observers were sometimes struck by the same mildness of a whole epidemic[1047].

The often cited remark of Wagstaffe in 1722, that there were cases which a physician could not save and cases which a nurse could not lose, had many illustrations. The cases of Queen Mary, in 1694, with the best physicians at her bed-side, and of the Duke of Gloucester in 1660, show the one event; the following from the Gentleman’s Magazine, shows the other:

In the parish of Whittington, Derbyshire, seventeen patients in all had the smallpox in the year 1752; the first was seized June 7, and the last August 12. They were all children, of various ages, and all did well. An apothecary was called to one only of them[1048].

A note added says:

“William Cave, a tradesman of Rugby, had twelve children, who, with three nephews, were seized with the smallpox; some of them had it severely, but all did well through the care of their mothers, without the intervention of an apothecary.”

Or there might be the average fatality in village epidemics left to domestic treatment only. At Kelsall and Ashton, two small Cheshire villages, sixty-nine persons had smallpox during seven months of 1773, of whom twelve died. “No medical practitioner visited any of the patients during the whole disease[1049].”

To find a single principle of cleavage through the smallpox of the 18th century, dividing it into good and bad, is impossible. The determining things were manifold, and they are to us obscure. Things proper to the individual constitution or temperament, hidden in what has been called “the abysmal deeps of personality,” cover a good deal in our reactions towards smallpox as in more important relationships. Generalizing such facts to the utmost, we do not get beyond the notion that the greater or lesser degree of proclivity runs in families. Morton could recall no case of smallpox fatal in his own family, nor, curiously enough, among his wife’s relations. On the other hand he introduces a case, his 53rd, as if to illustrate the contrary--a fair and elegant young lady, sprung of a distinguished stock, but one to which this disease was wont to prove calamitous as if by hereditary right[1050]. The royal family of Stuart had a peculiar fatality in smallpox; and so, it appears, had the family of the earl of Huntingdon, who wrote to Thomas Coke on 18 June, 1701: “I am informed Lord Kilmorey [married to his sister] is ill of a fever, and that some think it may prove the smallpox. For the love of God, send for my sister to your house. She never has had them and they have proved fatal in our family[1051].” A similar fatality in the family of John Evelyn can be traced in the pages of his diary.

Next to the individual constitution, we may take the epidemic constitution, in the Hippocratic sense. No one keeping before him the strange diversities of type in whole epidemics of scarlatina and measles will say that the Hippocratic doctrine of varying constitutions is not requisite to cover a certain element of mystery. But we should rationalize it wherever we can; and there are some obvious considerations that may be used to explain why smallpox, throughout a whole epidemic, had so high an average fatality in some years or in some localities. Rutty, who noted the fevers and other prevalent maladies in Dublin and elsewhere in Ireland from year to year, and the associations of the same with famine or the like, says that some had dysentery in 1757, “promoted perhaps by the badness of their bread, as it was a time of great scarcity,” that a low, putrid, petechial fever followed in the winter, fatal to not a few of the young and strong both in Dublin and in the country, and that as the cases of petechial fever increased much beyond the usual number in January, 1758, “it was observable that the smallpox kept pace in malignity with the fevers[1052].” That was the same year, 1758, for which Whytt records, along with the fatal smallpox of Fifeshire and Teviotdale, a dysentery and pestilential fever a month or two before, disastrous in Argyllshire, less mortal in Haddington and Newcastle, as well as an influenza all over Scotland[1053]. Again, in the country town and parish of Painswick, Gloucestershire, there was an epidemic of smallpox in the summer of 1785 so fatal that nearly one in three of the infected died. “This fatality,” says J. C. Jenner, “may in some measure perhaps be attributed to a contagious fever and epidemic ague which prevailed at the same time, and to the heat of the atmosphere”--many being dropsical from the agues that had afflicted them for months, and many reduced by the typhus fever[1054]. A striking instance of the fatality of smallpox among children in a poor state of health owing to previous disease is given by Sir William Watson:

At the Foundling Hospital of London, containing upwards of 300 children, there were 60 cases of smallpox during the last six months of the year 1762, of which only 4 died, or 1 in 15. In April and May of next year (1763) measles of a bad type broke out among the 312 inmates, attacking 180, of whom 19 died (over 1 in 10), while many who recovered were greatly weakened, having ulcerations of the lips and mouth for some time after. In May and June, when the children were recovering from measles, the smallpox attacked many in the hospital, including 18 who had lately gone through the measles. No fewer than 11 of those 18 died of smallpox. A corresponding fatality of smallpox was observed shortly before among children at the Foundling who were recovering from or had lately passed through the dysentery or “dysenteric fever[1055].”

It happens that we can compare a mild or average smallpox with an unusually fatal one, and the conditions on which they respectively depended, in the two neighbouring towns of Warrington and Chester in the two successive years 1773 and 1774. Chester in 1774 had the average kind of epidemic--1385 cases with 202 deaths (1 in 6·85), all in children. The Chester populace, as described by Haygarth, lived for the most part in poor houses of the newer suburbs; they were filthy in their persons and their houses were often visited by typhus fever (supra, p. 41). But the occupations of the men were not unhealthy, and the women would seem to have been left to their domestic duties in the usual way. At Warrington the circumstances were different. A seat of the sailcloth weaving from the Elizabethan period (as early as 1586 the “poledavies” of Warrington are mentioned), it had retained its repute and extended its industry as sailcloth came more into demand[1056]. The American War, and the earlier war with the French in Canada, caused an immense number of ships to be commissioned for the royal navy, and the Warrington looms are said to have furnished half of all the sailcloth that the fleets needed[1057]. Its manufacturers made their fortunes, new looms were added, population was drawn to the town from the country, marriages multiplied and were unusually prolific, and the swarms of children were hardly into their teens before they were set to earn wages along with their fathers and their mothers. We have vital statistics from the parish register by Aikin[1058], and an account of the industries by Arthur Young, as he saw them in 1769[1059]. During the twenty years from 1702 to 1722, each marriage, according to the register, produced only 2·9 children; from 1752 to 1772, the marriages averaged 73 in a year, and the baptisms 237, being 3·25 children to each marriage[1060]. But in the last three years of that period, 1770-72, the marriages had risen rapidly to an annual average of 95, and the baptisms to 331, being about 3·5 children to each marriage. From 1773 to 1781 the marriages averaged 85 and the fecundity reached 4·5 children to each. Arthur Young found the whole of this community, men, women, and children, engaged in sailcloth or sacking manufacture, boot-making, and pin-making.

“At Warrington the manufactures of sailcloth and sacking are very considerable. The first is spun by women and girls, who earn about 2_d._ a day. It is then bleached, which is done by men, who earn 10_s._ a week; after bleaching, it is wound by women, whose earnings are 2_s._ 6_d._ a week; next it is warped by men, who earn 7_s._ a week; and then starched, the earnings 10_s._ 6_d._ a week. The last operation is the weaving in which the men earn 9_s._, the women 5_s._, the boys 3_s._ 6_d._ a week. The spinners (women) in the sacking branch earn 6_s._ a week. Then it is wound on bobbins by women and children, whose earnings are 4_d._ a day.... The sailcloth employs about 300 weavers, and the sacking 150; and they reckon 20 spinners and 2 or 3 other hands to every weaver.”

On that basis of reckoning, Young estimated that the Warrington manufactures employed about eleven thousand hands; but as Aikin, in 1781, counted the whole inhabitants of the borough and three adjoining hamlets at 9501, it is clear that a good many spinners of the flax and hemp who lived in the country near Warrington must be allowed for in the eleven thousand. At all events Warrington was an early and an extreme instance of that hurry and scramble of wage-earning, by fathers, mothers and children, which the growth of manufactures in the latter part of the 18th century gave rise to, and of which many particulars came to light long after during the discussions that preceded the passing of the Factory Act. The mothers were workers, and all the while breeders at a somewhat high rate. It is difficult to imagine how the household duties were got through, and the infants reared, in such an industrial hive. Nor was there much attention given, during those great days of the sailcloth industry, to the scavenging and lighting of the town, and probably little to the overcrowded state of its old-fashioned streets and lanes. It was in January and February, 1775, fully a year after the great smallpox epidemic had ceased, that Mr Blackburne, who had become lord of the manor in 1764, “promoted the design of establishing a court of requests at Warrington, cleansing and lighting the town, and removing the butchers’ stalls.” These proposals, we are told, gave rise to a paper war[1061].

Ferriar has described what was apt to happen when country people migrated to manufacturing towns, got married, and had children born to them:

“A young couple live very happily, till the woman is confined by her first lying-in. The cessation of her employment then produces a deficiency in their income, at a time when expenses unavoidably increase. She therefore wants many comforts, and even the indulgences necessary to her situation: she becomes sickly, droops, and at last is laid up by a fever or a pneumonic complaint; the child dwindles, and frequently dies; the husband, unable to hire a nurse, gives up most of his time to attendance on his wife and child; his wages are reduced to a trifle; vexation and want render him diseased, and the whole family sometimes perishes, from the want of a small timely supply which their future industry would have amply repaid to the public[1062].”

What Ferriar saw so often some years after at Manchester must have been a not uncommon case at Warrington during the bustling time that Arthur Young describes. Its infantile mortality was certainly excessive, according to the following comparison with that of Chester, from the figures supplied to Price by Aikin from the Warrington burial registers of nine years, 1773-81, and by Haygarth from the Chester bills for ten years, 1772-81[1063]. The deaths are reduced to annual averages, and those of Warrington are raised, in the third column, to the ratio of the population of Chester by making them half as much again.

Annual average of deaths from all causes under five years.

Warrington. Chester. Warrington Pop. 9,501 Pop. 14,173 raised to the Ages at death in 1781 in 1774 ratio of Chester

Under one year 72·7 80·6 109·0 One to two 43·5 36·1 65·2 Two to three 20·1 23·4 30·1 Three to four 11·5 14·4 17·2 Four to five 7·0 8·7 10·5

It was among infants and young children born and brought up with such comparatively poor chances of surviving, that smallpox broke out at Warrington in January, 1773, reaching its climax in May and ending about October, with a mortality of 209 or 211. Aikin says:

“Its victims were chiefly young children, whom it attacked with such instant fury that the best-directed means for relief were of little avail. In general the sick were kept sufficiently cool, and were properly supplied with diluting and acidulous drinks; yet where they recovered, it seemed rather owing to a less degree of malignity in the disease or greater strength to struggle with it, than any peculiar management. When it ended fatally, it was usually before the pustules came to maturation; and, indeed, in many they showed no disposition to advance after the complete eruption, but remained quite flat and pale”--a sure sign of poor stamina vitae. “In one neighbourhood I found that out of 29 who had the disease, 12 died, or about 2 in 5; in others the mortality was still greater, and I have reason to believe it was not less on the whole.”

The monthly progress of the mortality at Warrington and Chester respectively was as follows[1064]:

Deaths. Deaths. Warrington, Chester, 1773 1774

Jan. 4 0 Feb. 4 1 March 13 0 April 23 0 May 63 3 June 49 3 July 33 11 Aug. 11 26 Sept. 7 28 Oct. 3 46 Nov. 0 44 Dec. 1 40[1065] --- --- 211 202

The following are the ages at which the children died of smallpox, and of all causes, in each town during the epidemic year[1066]:

Warrington Chester (pop. in 1781, 9501) (pop. in 1774, 14,713) Ages Smallpox Other deaths Smallpox Other deaths

Under one month 0 18 0 17 One to three months 4 9 3 19 Three to six months 4 9 4 10 Six to twelve months 39 15 44 8 One to two years 84 24 38 14 Two to three years 33 5 42 3 Three to five years 33 14 49 13 Five to ten years 12 15 22 8 Above ten years 0 -- 0 -- --------------------------------------------- 209 -- 202 --

Comparing the ages at death in the two epidemics, we see at a glance that the second year was most fatal to children at Warrington, whereas at Chester the deaths fell more at the higher ages, although in ratio of its population it was only on a par with Warrington even at these ages.

If the great smallpox year at each town be left out, 1773 at Warrington, 1774 at Chester, the mortality of infants in their second year from all causes is found to be one-third more at Warrington than at Chester on an annual average of eight (or nine) years. Some such difference Haygarth says was well known between the smallpox of great and small towns, namely, that it “attacks children at an earlier age, and consequently is fatal to a larger proportion of people, in great than in small towns[1067].” Although Warrington was the smaller town, infants died earlier there than at Chester (from smallpox and from all causes), or the probability of life was less;--a statistical fact which Price made out, but was unable to explain. The explanation is the poor stamina of the Warrington children, which was due most of all to the circumstance that the married women were at once wage-earners and prolific breeders.

In the smallpox year at Warrington, the deaths from all causes under five years of age were 62·5 of the whole mortality, (in infants under two years they were 43·5 per cent. of all deaths) smallpox having caused them in the ratio of 199 to 291. Although Aikin’s estimate of two deaths in five cases is improbable for the whole epidemic, we may admit a rate of one death in four, which would give Warrington in 1773 about as many cases in proportion to its numbers as Chester had in 1774--844 in a population of some 9000, as compared with 1385 in a population of 14,713.

The epidemics of smallpox at Carlisle in 1779 and Leeds in 1781 were unusually mortal, for reasons analogous to those assigned in the case of Warrington. Both towns had increased fast in numbers, owing to the growth of the weaving and spinning industries, both were overcrowded, ill ventilated, and filthy, and both had high mortalities from typhus fever among the adults, as described in another chapter. At Carlisle, the great epidemic of smallpox, which was the children’s special scourge, came in 1779, two years before the typhus fever reached a height. The smallpox caused 90 deaths, while “a species of scarlet fever” at the same time caused 39 deaths. Heysham estimated somewhat vaguely that these 90 deaths occurred in 300 cases, or one case fatal in 3·3, which is double the average[1068]. Lucas gives the proportion at Leeds more exactly--462 cases, in six months, with 130 fatalities, or 1 in 3·5. The epidemic at Leeds in 1721-22, which Nettleton described as “more than usually mortal,” caused 189 deaths in 792 attacks, or 1 in 4·2. There were fewer attacks in the much larger population (17,117) of 1781, perhaps because there were fewer persons who had not had the disease already, and these almost exclusively the infants born and the young children who had grown up since the last epidemic[1069]. In those circumstances it is hardly surprising that the Leeds smallpox of 1781 should have been a degree more mortal than that of 1721-22, which was itself “more than usually mortal.”

* * * * *

A complete survey of smallpox in its great period, the eighteenth century, in all places and continuously from year to year, is impossible even if it were to be desired. Had it not been for the exact diligence of a few, especially in the North of England, we should have been left in doubt on some of the main epidemiological generalities. A system of registration such as was applied for the first time in the epidemic of 1837-39 would have saved much research and would have made it possible to bring the facts within a smaller compass. By comparison and classification of many scattered particulars we may still acquire a tolerably clear notion of what smallpox was in the 18th century. It was chiefly a disease of infancy and early childhood. It was always present in one part or another of the capital and of the larger towns, rising at intervals to the height of a great and general epidemic[1070]. At its worst, as in Glasgow, it took about a third part of the lives under the age of five, and perhaps a sixth part of the lives at all ages. It came in epidemics at somewhat regular intervals in the smaller towns, and at longer intervals in the country parishes. The village epidemics were apt to be very searching when they did come. Haygarth gives the instance of Christleton, a small village two miles from Chester, in 1778: “The distemper began in March and continued till October. At the commencement of the epidemic, 107 poor children had never been exposed to the variolous infection; of these 100 had the distemper, probably all who were capable of receiving the smallpox.” In all places, with the possible exception of London where the risks from infantile diarrhoea and “convulsions” were peculiar, it cut off the infants and young children more than any other single disease, infectious or other; and indeed it had few rivals among infectious diseases until towards the close of the century, being for a time the grand epidemic scourge of the first years of life just as the plague was once the unique scourge of youth and mature age. It was more mortal in some seasons than in others, and at certain places. Towards the end of the 18th century, much more is heard of it in the northern industrial towns than in England south of the Trent. If the statistics of Boston, Lincolnshire, are at all representative, smallpox certainly declined much in market towns in the last twenty years of the century. It appears to have declined also in the capital during the same period. In the parishes of Scotland, by the almost unanimous testimony of the articles which refer to it in the ‘Statistical Account,’ it had become much less frequent and less dangerous for some years previous to the publication of that work (1792-98). In Glasgow, with the worst statistics of children’s deaths in the whole kingdom, the maximum had been reached, and passed, in the period between the close of the American war and the first years of the great war with France. As the French war proceeded, and vast sums of public money were poured out (the bill being left to Prince Posterity to pay), the effects of this abundance were seen in the remarkable decline, and almost total disappearance, of fevers all over England, Scotland and Ireland. Corresponding with the lull in fevers there was a lull in smallpox, not so marked as the former, but very significantly covering the same period and lasting until the great depression of trade in 1816 which followed the Peace. This will appear in continuing the chronology of epidemics; but before we come to that, it remains to make clear the scientific or pathological nature of a new kind of inoculation which became at this juncture the rival of the old. The extent to which each of the rival methods was practised will become a subject of inquiry after the epidemic of 1817-19 has been dealt with.

Cowpox.

Much has been said, in previous sections of this chapter, as to the efforts of inoculators to reduce the effects of inoculated virus “to as low a degree as we could wish.” What kind of matter do you use? one inoculator would ask of another. The comparative trials of Watson had shown that serous or watery matter from an unripe pustule of smallpox, preferably from the unripe pustule of a previous inoculation on the arm, was most “successful,” the success being measured by the slightness of the effect produced at the time. The comparative trials of Mudge had confirmed that, but had gone a little farther in showing that these slight effects of crude or unripe matter left the constitution still open to the same effects by the same means, or to more severe effects by more severe means. What kind of matter to use was, accordingly, still an open question, which offered some scope for originality and ingenuity. Among other sources of crude or watery matter with bland properties was the glassy or watery variety of eruption called swinepox, which, like its congener chickenpox, was peculiar to man; and among those who tried that source of non-purulent matter for inoculation was Jenner, of Berkeley. It was in 1789 that he inoculated his child, aged eighteen months, with matter from the so-called swinepox of man. There was still another pox bearing the name of a brute animal, which was, however, a true affection of brutes--the cowpox or pap-pox. A farmer at Yetminster, Dorset, named Benjamin Jesty, had used matter from that source for the inoculation of his wife and two young children in 1774, with the result that the arm of the former was much inflamed and had to be treated by a surgeon. There seemed to be no good reason for preferring matter of such dangerous tendency, and the experiment was not repeated. A few years after, an apothecary of Lyme, in Dorset, is said to have heard of another case of the domestic use of cowpox matter for inoculation by the mistress of a farm house, and to have pressed this fact upon the attention of Sir George Baker; who, although a supporter of the mild or Suttonian inoculations with crude lymph, and by his own avowal a friend of experiments, did not favour the trial of matter from the pap-pox of cows, probably for the reason that he should have been departing from the ground-principle of inoculating for the smallpox if he were to go outside the class of variolous disease for his matter. The true virtuoso, however, has no antecedent objection to experimenting with anything. Sometime after Jenner had used the swinepox matter, he began to talk among his medical neighbours of using cowpox matter. But it was known that cowpox matter had properties and effects of its own, and that it would be a radical innovation to use it, a departure toto coelo from every modification hitherto tried in the inoculation procedure. Although it was also a pox by name, and although cowpox to the apprehension of a man of words or notions might seem to be in the same class as swinepox, glasspox, hornpox, waterpox or chickenpox, yet those who had ever seen it on the chapped hands of milkers would hardly admit that matter from such a source could serve for inoculation purposes unless upon wholly independent and original proof of efficacy. Jenner’s colleagues are reported to have denied that cowpoxed milkers escaped natural smallpox any more than their fellows[1071]. About the year 1794 Jenner began to press the subject upon the attention of his friends. His clerical neighbour, Worthington, mentioned it in one of his letters to Haygarth, of Chester, who replied, on 15 April, 1794:

“Your account of the cowpox is indeed very marvellous, being so strange a history, and so contradictory to all past observations on this subject, very clear and full evidence will be required to render it credible. You say that this whole rare phenomenon is soon to be published, but do not mention whether by yourself or some other medical friend. In either case I trust that no reliance will be placed upon vulgar stories. The author should admit nothing but what he has proved by his own personal observation, both in the brute and human species. It would be useless to specify the doubts that must be satisfied upon this subject before rational belief can be obtained. If a physician should adopt such a doctrine, and much more if he should publish it upon inadequate evidence, his character would materially suffer in the public opinion of his knowledge and discernment[1072].”

It is clear that Haygarth, who was well acquainted with epidemic smallpox and with inoculation, saw in this Gloucestershire idea something quite new as well as antecedently improbable. What the real novelty was will appear from the next historical reference to cowpox in an original work upon Morbid Poisons by Joseph Adams, a writer of the Hunterian school. All that Adams knew of the nature of cowpox previous to March, 1795, came from Cline, surgeon to St Thomas’s Hospital, who had been a fellow student of Jenner’s five and twenty years before, and kept up some correspondence with him. Adams is writing on the peculiar danger of ulceration and sloughing, or phagedaena, from transferring animal matters from one body to another, his last illustration having been the notorious phagedaenic ulceration of the gums, with rashes of the skin and constitutional effects so severe as to be fatal, which followed the transplantation of fresh teeth from one person to another in a number of cases about the year 1790 and led to the speedy abandonment of that unnatural practice[1073]. He proceeds to say, “Thus far we have only traced the poisonous effects of matter applied from one animal to another of the same class,” and then he brings in the illustration of cowpox to finish the chapter:

“The cowpox is a disease well known to the dairy-farmers in Gloucestershire. The only appearance on the animal is a phagedaenic ulcer on the teat, with apparent inflammation. When communicated to the human subject, it produces, besides ulceration on the hand, a considerable tumour of the arm, with symptomatic fever, both which gradually subside. What is still more extraordinary, as far as facts have been hitherto ascertained, the person who has been infected is rendered insensible to the variolous poison[1074].”

Jenner’s own essay on the cowpox, when it appeared at length in 1798, confirmed these statements as to the phagedaenic or corroding ulcerous character of the milkers’ sores, in his brief accounts of several cases, of which it will suffice to mention these two: William Stinchcomb, farm servant, had his left hand severely affected with several corroding ulcers, and a tumour of considerable size appeared in the axilla of that side; his right hand had only one small sore. A poor girl, unnamed, “produced an ulceration on her lip by frequently holding her finger to her mouth to cool the raging of a cowpox sore by blowing upon it[1075].” Inquiries made by Dr George Pearson in various other dairy counties of England brought out the same character of cowpox in milkers: the painful sores might be as large as a sixpenny piece, and might last a month or two, causing the milker to give up his work[1076].

As to the pap-pox itself, or cowpox in the cow, the most circumstantial account was obtained, a few months after Jenner’s first essay, by interrogating a veterinary surgeon or cow-doctor, one Clayton, who attended at most of the farms within ten miles of Gloucester:

“That the chief diseases of the cow are the lough, swellings of the udder, and cowpox; that the two former are the most common, the latter being rarely seen except in spring and summer.

That cowpox begins with white specks upon the cow’s teats, which, in process of time, ulcerate; and, if not stopped, extend over the whole surface of the teats, giving the cow excruciating pain.

That, if this disease is suffered to continue for some time, it degenerates into ulcers, exuding a malignant and highly corrosive matter; but this generally arises from neglect in the incipient stage of the disease, or from some other cause he cannot explain.

That this disease may arise from any cause irritating or excoriating the teats; but that the teats are often chapped without the cowpox succeeding. In chaps of the teats, they generally swell; but in the cowpox, the teats seldom swell at all, but are gradually destroyed by ulceration.

That this disease first breaks out upon one cow, and is communicated by the milker to the whole herd; but if one person was confined to strip the cow having this disease, it would go no farther.

That the cowpox is a local disease, and is invariably cured by local remedies.

That he never knew this disease extend itself in the highest degree to the udder, unless mortification had ensued; and that he can at all times cure the cowpox in eight or nine days[1077].”

No account of cowpox in the cow has ever been given which differs materially from that of this experienced Gloucester cow-doctor in 1798[1078]. Cowpox is not only a local disease, but it is peculiar to certain individuals of the species, namely cows in milk; in them it occurs on the teats, so that it was correctly known in Norfolk by the name of pap-pox. The common observation has been that one cow starts it, and that an infection is rubbed into the teats of others by the fingers of the milkers. The cow which develops this ulceration of the paps is usually either a heifer in her first milk, from which the calf has been taken away, or a cow in milk which has been bought in a market, with the udder “overstocked” or left distended for appearance sake, but as yet with no blemish of the paps. The cause of cowpox is the rough handling of a highly sensitive part, which was originally adapted only for the lips and tongue of the calf. Ceely, a correct observer in the Vale of Aylesbury, uses no exaggerated phrase when he speaks of “the merciless manipulations of the milkers.” Men milkers are well known to lack the delicate tact of women; and cowpox has been most common in the great dairying districts where men-milkers are employed. But in some animals cowpox may be produced even under gentler handling or with slighter provocation, of which I give a recent case from my notebook, taken during a visit to the country:

27 April, 1891. Case of cowpox. A maid in the service of Mr J. R. has on the ulnar side of the fore finger of the right hand, over the joint of the first and second phalanges, a collapsed bleb the size of a sixpenny piece, pearly white round the margin, bluish towards the centre, which is brown. The forefinger, as well as the wrist and hand generally, bears traces of recent inflammation, and was said to have been greatly swollen and painful, the pain extending up the arm. There is a symmetrical rash of bright red papules on both arms as high as the elbows, more copious and bright on the right arm but abundant on the left also. The papules are elevated and pointed, with a small zone of bright redness of the skin round the base of each. The history is as follows: A cow was bought four or five weeks ago to supplement the supply of milk from the three ordinarily kept. The new comer proved “tough” to milk, so that the maid was obliged, contrary to usual practice, to take the paps in the cleft of the fore and middle fingers; under this mode of “stripping,” the animal would hardly stand quiet to be milked. After a time it was found that one of the paps had a black crust upon it, which might have covered originally a chap of the skin. The crust would have been displaced in the milking, and would have grown again; the sore beneath soon healed. Only one pap was affected. None of the other cows was infected. The “tough” cow was at length sold as an unsatisfactory milker, and had been sent to a distance on the morning of the day on which these notes were made. The maid’s finger began to be affected after two or three weeks of milking the cow, the beginning of the large and tumid bluish-white vaccine vesicle having been like a small wart.

Jenner’s opinion that cowpox was a specific disease “coeval with the brute creation,” and that it had been the parent of the great historical smallpox of mankind, is not now received as correct. His other opinion, that cowpox was derived from the hocks of horses affected with “grease,” which held a central place in his original essay, especially in connexion with his doctrine of “true” and “spurious” cowpox, was rejected by most of his contemporaries, and is perhaps unsupported by anyone at the present time[1079].

In the title-page of his first essay, Dr Jenner called this singular malady of the cow’s paps by a new name--variolae vaccinae, or smallpox of the cow. Pearson, the earliest and most ardent of Jenner’s original supporters, and for several years thereafter a convinced vaccinist, at once took exception to the name variolae vaccinae “for the sake of precision of language and justness in thinking.” It is a palpable catachresis, says he, to designate what is called the cowpox by the denomination variolae vaccinae, because the cowpox is a specifically different distemper from the smallpox in essential particulars, namely, in the nature of its morbific poison and in its symptoms[1080].

That the term variolae vaccinae in Jenner’s title-page is used tropically can hardly be doubted; but it is not so easy to say which of the great classical tropes it is. It may be objected that “catachresis” is too general for the misuse of a word when that word is a scientific one and occurs in the leading title of a scientific book. Here we have the somewhat specific and purposeful use of a word in an unwonted sense, which, if it fall under any of the scholastic figures of speech, ought to be a figure more specifically defined than mere catachresis. In a matter so important as this one should find the exact figure if possible; but at the outset a difficulty arises, namely whether we should look for it in the usage of the rhetors, as Isocrates teaches, or in the usage of the logicians, as Aristotle lays down the definitions of tropes. If among the former class, the nearest is perhaps the hypocorisma, or attractive, agreeable name for something that is not so nice in itself. If among the latter, we shall hardly find a better than the metalepsis, which is a change more of mood than of meaning, namely the transition without proof from a supposition to an assertion. But in truth no single figure of the ancient teachers suits this modern instance. We require at least two. Metalepsis carries us so far, but synecdoche must supplement it. The term variolae vaccinae is a synecdoche in that it names the cause from the effect; it is a metalepsis in that it passes abruptly from the hypothetical mood to the categorical; and in respect that it does both at a stroke it is probably unique, and without precedent among the examples known to the ancients. Or again, leaving the graver figures, and translating the Latin name of Jenner’s title-page, one may try the figurative conversion of cowpox into smallpox by the standard of pure and legitimate paronomasia, of which there is a familiar English example in the conversion of a plant into an animal by the verbal play of horse-chestnut and chestnut horse in the minor premiss.

Some in more recent times, mistaking the figurative or rhetorical intention of Jenner, have understood his Latin name of cowpox as if there really were a smallpox of the cow (although not of the bull, nor of the steer, the maiden heifer or the calf of either sex). Not being able to find a smallpox of the cow in the natural way, they have thought to satisfy the legitimate requirements of proof by manufacturing it. Certain Germans of the Lower Rhine, where the cows ordinarily wear blankets, have wrapped the blankets taken from smallpox beds round the bodies of cows, after clipping the hair close; nothing was found to ensue in these interesting experiments except an occasional pimple which had probably been caused by the shears in the preliminary clipping. Others in England, France, America and India, have succeeded in raising a smallpox pustule at the point of puncture in the epidermis of the cow or in the more delicate transitional epithelium, the matter from which has produced smallpox in its turn[1081]. But these are academic exercises. The natural cowpox of the cow has been likened by none to the natural smallpox of man in a sustained comparison of all the anatomical and epidemiological particulars of each; nor, I am persuaded, will anyone ever attempt to draw out such a comparison. Variolae vaccinae as a name for cowpox was a figure of speech, and it is to misunderstand its original use to treat it as anything else.

The proof that cowpox had some power over smallpox consisted in trying to inoculate with the latter those who had been previously inoculated with the former. The accepted mode of testing the power of inoculated smallpox itself was to inoculate it again; at first the test for cowpox was to inoculate with smallpox, but after a few years the testing inoculation was done with cowpox itself. The effects of Suttonian inoculation with smallpox, as we have seen, were nearly always slight, and sometimes invisible (as in Watson’s practice at the Foundling Hospital). A previous inoculation with cowpox made them slighter still; but even with cowpox in the system, the pustules of smallpox rose where the matter had been inserted on the arm. It may be thought that there were only fine shades of difference between the effects of inoculation after cowpoxing and the effects of the same in a virgin soil; but some difference must have been perceived, for it was upon that, and upon nothing else, that the authority in favour of cowpox as a substitute for smallpox in inoculation was promptly established. The relationship between cowpox and smallpox was admitted by all to be in the nature of things “extraordinary,” as Jenner said, or a mystery, as others said; but as an empirical fact many believed it to be true, because the cowpoxed had less to show for the effects of inoculation with smallpox than if they had not been cowpoxed. Jenner himself is known to have made only two variolous tests. He used crude or watery matter from the local pustule of inoculated smallpox, and advised all his readers to do the same. In one of his two trials, a child Mary James had nearly the same effects from inoculation after cowpox that her mother and another child had from it without having been cowpoxed, namely the pustule or confluent group of pustules at the place of puncture, and the eruptive fever at the ninth day[1082].

In the earliest tests made independently of Jenner, five at Stonehouse[1083], near Stroud, and five at Stroud[1084], in the first months of 1799, the cowpoxed received smallpox afterwards by inoculation “in the usual slight manner.” In the practice at the Smallpox and Inoculation Hospital, London, in the spring and summer of 1799, many of the cowpoxed took smallpox by contagion from the atmosphere of the hospital, so that Woodville, after a period of perplexity, at length concluded that cowpox, while it was still active upon the arm, did not shut out the action of the smallpox virus in the constitution[1085].

The antecedent objections to cowpox, arising out of its non-variolous nature, were met by appealing to the results of experiments. The authority in favour of cowpox was speedily established on that ground, and has been continuous to the present time. The experimenters had to decide very nice points both in the way of observation and of reasoning. They had to appraise the margin of difference between the effects of Suttonian inoculation where cowpox had preceded and where it had not preceded. They had to allow for the first virus causing a swelling in the absorbent glands, which would obstruct the entrance of the second testing virus into the blood. They had to average the varying effects of Suttonian inoculation for its own sake, and the equally varying effects of it as the variolous test, and to find a broad difference between the two averages. Having decided that preceding cowpox infection did make a real and appreciable difference to the number of pustules resulting, at the spot or elsewhere, from the insertion of inoculated smallpox matter, or to the amount of fever, they had next to consider whether that degree of resistance by a cowpoxed person to inoculation were a good measure of his power to resist contagion reaching his vitals in the natural way. Their diligence and acumen may or may not have been equal to these things--it was a slack tide in medical science. Also they received little or no help from Dr Jenner himself, whose inventive genius was of the kind that is apt to leave the practical value, and even the theoretical probability, of the project to be tried by others. The inventor made interest with great personages--with the king, the duke of York, and the aristocracy of his county. His priority, and the merits of his project, were referred in 1802 to a Committee of the House of Commons, with Admiral Berkeley as chairman, which entered on its labours with a strong recommendation from the king, endorsed by Addington, the prime minister. They decided in favour of Dr Jenner’s claim for remuneration on all the issues, and on 2 June, 1802, the Committee of the whole House unanimously voted: “That it is the opinion of the Committee that a sum not exceeding £10,000 be granted to his Majesty to be paid as a remuneration to Dr Edward Jenner for promulgating the discovery of the Vaccine Inoculation, by which mode that dreadful malady the smallpox was prevented[1086].” On 29 July, 1807, a farther sum of £20,000 was voted to him; and on 8 June, 1808, a National Vaccine Establishment was appointed, at an annual cost of about £5,000.

Chronology of epidemics resumed from 1801.

In resuming the history of smallpox from the beginning of the present century, we come first to the deaths in the London Bills of Mortality, which are the only continuous figures. The bills of Parish Clerks’ Hall had failed, before they ceased, to include more than two-thirds, perhaps not much more than a half, of all the deaths in the capital. The great parishes of St Pancras and St Marylebone, which returned a somewhat excessive share of the deaths both from smallpox and from fever in the first two or three years of the Registration Act (1837-39), as well as the parishes of Chelsea and Kensington, were never included within the Bills; also much of the suburban extension on the other sides of London was never taken in. Meanwhile the area of the old Bills had actually become less populous owing to the displacement of dwelling houses by warehouses, workshops, counting houses, and the like, in the City, the Liberties and in certain out-parishes such as those bordering the Thames at the east end.

Still, the bills of mortality may be taken as showing on the whole fairly the proportion of smallpox deaths to other deaths, and the years of its greater outbursts.

Smallpox in the London Bills of Mortality, 1801-37.

Smallpox All deaths deaths

1801 1461 19,374 1802 1579 19,379 1803 1202 19,582 1804 622 17,034 1805 1685 17,565 1806 1158 17,938 1807 1297 18,334 1808 1169 19,954 1809 1163 16,680 1810 1198 19,983 1811 751 17,043 1812 1287 18,295 1813 898 17,322 1814 638 19,283 1815 725 19,560 1816 653 20,316 1817 1051 19,968 1818 421 19,705 1819 712 19,928 1820 722 19,348 1821 508 18,451 1822 604 18,865 1823 774 20,587 1824 725 20,237 1825 1299 21,026 1826 503 20,758 1827 616 22,292 1828 598 21,709 1829 736 23,524 1830 627 21,645 1831 563 25,337 1832 771 28,606 1833 574 26,577 1834 334 21,679 1835 863 21,415 1836 536 18,229 1837 217 21,063

The 18th century had ended with a severe epidemic of smallpox (2409 deaths) in the year 1800; and excepting in the year 1804, the deaths kept at a somewhat high level for ten years longer. The rise at the end of the last century corresponded to a time of distress and a severe epidemic of typhus fever. The fever declined after 1803, and remained for a dozen years at so low a level that Bateman, in his quarterly reports on the practice of the Carey Street Dispensary, expresses surprise that there should have been so little of it. The same writer, however, has occasion to remark upon the fatality of smallpox; twice he mentions large mortalities from it in courts adjoining Shoe Lane[1087]. According to the figures, also, smallpox declined less than fever. This means that, in the same circumstances, adult lives fared better than infancy and childhood. But, on the whole, smallpox shared with fever the advantageous conditions for health which obtained in all parts of the kingdom (in Ireland as well as in Britain) from the decline of the epidemics of 1799-1803 until the rise of the next epidemics in 1816-19. This period of comparative freedom from smallpox and fever corresponded to the second period of the great French War from its resumption after the failure of the Peace of Amiens until its termination with the Peace of Paris. It may seem surprising that this should have been a time of comparatively good public health in Great Britain and Ireland, inasmuch as it was a time of dear food and heavy taxes. The amount of typhus or relapsing fever is the best test; and those diseases, by all accounts, were at a lower level in all parts of the United Kingdom from 1804 to 1817 than they had been for many years before or than they were for many years after. Again, if precedents count for anything, the same kind of lull in smallpox and fever together is shown in the London bills during the war of the Allies against Louis XIV., and during the Seven Years War.

In Glasgow the decline of smallpox deaths for a few years in the 19th century was perhaps more marked than elsewhere because it was a decline from an excessively high level in the end of the 18th century.

Glasgow Mortalities, 1801-12.

Smallpox Measles All Year deaths deaths deaths

1801 245 8 1434 1802 156 168 1770 1803 194 45 1860 1804 213 52 1670 1805 56 90 1671 1806 28 56 1629 1807 97 16 1806 1808 51 787 2623 1809 159 44 2124 1810 28 19 2111 1811 109 267 2342 1812 78 304 2348

Here it is not until 1805 that a marked fall in the smallpox deaths takes place. In Norwich there was a clear interval from the last severe period in the end of the 18th century, until the year 1805, when smallpox, “after being for a time almost extinct,” became prevalent again. At the Whitehaven Dispensary, the contrast between the last years of the 18th century and first years of the 19th is not striking[1088]:

Smallpox at Whitehaven Dispensary.

Cases Deaths

1795 8 0 1796 41 5 1797 (no table) 1798 51 3 1799 7 1 1800 120 11 1801 9 3 1802 (no table) 1803 67 16 1804 1 0

Carlisle, which used to share in smallpox as much as Whitehaven, seems to have been almost wholly free from it in the first twelve years of the century: at least Dr Heysham, who was no longer statistical, “had reason to believe” that no person died there of smallpox from the autumn of 1800 (when cowpox inoculation was introduced) until November, 1812[1089].

The Newcastle Dispensary, like that of Whitehaven, treated a small fraction of all the cases of smallpox in the town; but it continued to have a fair average of cases and deaths after the century was turned:

Smallpox cases attended from Newcastle Dispensary.

Cases Deaths

1795 7 1 1796 19 3 1797 12 0 1798 15 3 1799 -- -- 1800 -- -- 1801 14 4 1802 -- -- 1803 7 4 1804 0 0 1805 7 0 1806 16 6

Most places continued to have their periodical epidemics of smallpox as before, although both measles and scarlatina were becoming more and more its rivals. Boston, Lincolnshire, had its sexennial epidemic in 1802 with thirty-three deaths. Besides the year 1805, there were two periods in which smallpox was somewhat general, 1807-9 and 1811-13. At Norwich from 1807 to the end of 1809 the bills of mortality showed 203 deaths from smallpox[1090]. In 1808 we happen to hear of it also at Sherborne, in Dorset, at Ringwood, in Hampshire, at Cheltenham, at Cambridge and at Edinburgh, although the great epidemic malady of children in that year was measles[1091]. Lettsom wrote on 25 January, 1808: “The smallpox (infanticides) and measles have been prevalent and fatal. The coffins for the parish poor in England for the smallpox deaths alone have cost £10,000[1092].”

In 1811 it began to be somewhat general again, and rose in London to a considerable epidemic in 1812, the deaths in summer rising to sixty in a week[1093]. A village epidemic of 46 cases and 7 deaths is reported from North Queensferry, near Edinburgh, from 14 December, 1811 to 7 March, 1812[1094]. At Norwich from 10 February to 3 September, 1813, there were 65 deaths[1095]. The rise from 1811 to 1813 coincided with an increase of fever, the winter of 1811-12 having been a time of dearth and depressed trade, especially in the manufacturing districts. After that came a notable lull both in fever and smallpox, which was at length broken by the epidemics of each in 1817 in Ireland, Scotland and England, coincidently with the depression of trade and dislocation of commerce that began everywhere as soon as the great war was over.

The Smallpox Epidemic of 1817-19.

The same things that favoured the prevalence of typhus and relapsing fever in times of distress, favoured also the rise of smallpox to the height of an epidemic. Hence the greater epidemics of smallpox in the first half of the 19th century coincided somewhat closely with epidemics of relapsing or typhus fever,--in 1817-19, in 1825-27, in 1837-40, and in 1847-49. That which fever was to the adolescents and adults in times of distress, the same was smallpox to the infants and young children. The young children of a family did, indeed, take fever sometimes as well as the parents or the young persons in it; but the children seldom died of it. They died of smallpox (or of measles or whooping cough or the like), perhaps all the more readily that they would have been weakened by the fever, and by the want of food and comforts which attended it. Thus, while fever and smallpox went somewhat closely hand in hand during times of distress, it was the adolescents and adults that died of fever, the infants and young children that died of smallpox. The following table, compiled from the reports of the Whitehaven Dispensary from 1783 to 1800, will show how many children survived attacks of continued fever in comparison with their elders[1096]:

Continued Fever at Whitehaven Dispensary, 1783-1800.

Under Total 2 years 2-5 -10 -15 -20 -30 -40 -50 -60 -70 -80

Cases 1712 40 142 240 223 150 240 236 202 92 47 15 Deaths 85 0 0 5 2 6 14 20 19 12 7 0

The deaths from smallpox are found nearly always to be high when the deaths from fever are high. The correspondence, however, is not always exact to months or quarters, or half-years; for it is not unusual in the London weekly bills to find a run of weeks with high deaths from smallpox just before or after a run of weeks with high deaths from fever. The domestic circumstances which spread the contagion of fever were such as might be expected to spread the contagion of smallpox, namely, the pawning of clothes, bedding and the like, on a vast scale in times of scarcity, the crowding of many in single rooms or in one bed, the wandering of men and women, attended by their children, in search of work, the exposure of children in the smallpox so as to extort alms. All these things were common in Ireland, Scotland and England during the long periods of depressed trade, alternating with periods of speculation and expansion, for which the generation following the Peace of Paris was remarkable. We hear far more of the fever than of the smallpox, because the former touched the lives of breadwinners, while the latter was often regarded as a matter of course[1097]. Thus, in the Irish famine of 1817-18, it is possible to estimate the prevalence of dysentery, relapsing fever and typhus fever by the aid of various records, including two treatises and the reports of a Parliamentary Committee. There are also two or three brief references to smallpox; but no one would have supposed that smallpox caused actually more deaths than fever itself, as in the following returns of burials in the Cathedral churchyard of Armagh, from 1st May to 25th December, 1818[1098]:

Smallpox deaths 180 Fever deaths 165 All other deaths 118

--the total of 463 being twice or thrice the numbers for the corresponding months of non-epidemic years. Whether there was as much smallpox in other provinces of Ireland as in Ulster, does not appear; but the following relating to Strabane and Londonderry will serve to prove that Armagh was not exceptional in the north of Ireland. In and around Strabane, smallpox began to spread in May, 1817, having been hardly known in the neighbourhood for years before; it was often confluent and was “fatal to hundreds” of children[1099]. The same severity of the epidemic is reported also from the county of Derry in 1817: “Cases of smallpox appeared in greater numbers than I had ever before witnessed, even previous to the valuable discovery of Jenner[1100].”

The vagrancy of the Irish peasants, not only cottiers but also many small farmers, began in Ulster in the end of the year 1816, after a wet autumn which ruined the crops; and it is probable that the contagion of smallpox began to be spread among their children about the same time. Whether a migration set in to England and Scotland at that time is not clear. It appears, indeed, that the first of the epidemic in England, in Whitehaven, Ulverston, and other places which were in direct communication with the North of Ireland, was at least as early as, and perhaps earlier than, the outbreak of the malady in that country. The whole of the United Kingdom was suffering in 1816 from depression of trade, and many of the labouring class were tramping from place to place in search of work. The following is the account of smallpox being brought to Ulverston[1101]:

“The smallpox were brought to Ulverston from Wigan, by the wife of a nailer, who, with her child had slept in a house where the family had just recovered from them, in the latter end of January, 1816, or beginning of February. She immediately returned to Ulverston and the eruption appeared on the child about ten days afterwards, when it was carried about by the mother and much exposed in different parts of the town. They soon removed from this place; and I believe the child died between this place and Kendal.”

A young woman of Ulverston who was much in the company of the nailer’s wife from Wigan, caught smallpox from her child, and died on 22 February; her sister sickened soon after, and had the disease favourably. An epidemic followed in the town, of which some particulars are known down to October, 1816; the disease was very fatal also in Whitehaven at the same time. Two things gave a particular interest to the Ulverston smallpox of 1816, two things which were found to characterize the epidemic everywhere in England and Scotland as it spread in 1817, 1818 and 1819. These were, first the numerous cases of smallpox among those who had been inoculated with cowpox, a sequel now obvious on a large scale for the first time; and secondly, the admixture of a good many cases of “crystalline” or “hornpox” eruptions among the usual pustular cases. There was nothing new in such crystalline eruptions in smallpox; for example Huxham mentions them at Plymouth in 1752. But they were always curious, and it was always a matter of wonder that they should happen in one epidemic and not in another. Of thirty-five cases tabulated from the Ulverston epidemic of 1816, twelve had the “horny pox,” or the “small horny kind,” all the rest having the ordinary pustules of smallpox, sometimes discrete, sometimes confluent, four being scarred, and one covered by “a complete cake of incrustation.” All those thirty-five cases were above five years of age, except one child of three, and they seem to have nearly all recovered. Nothing is said of the infants and children under the age of five, who then contributed three-fourths of the mortality in every epidemic of smallpox. The crystalline eruption was not chickenpox; for the three first cases of it had all gone through chickenpox before.

Almost identical in tenour with this account from Ulverston is the narrative of an epidemic at Newton Stewart, in Wigton, just across the Solway from Cumberland, which began in the autumn of 1816, but did not extend until the following summer[1102]. The first case was one of “hornpox” in a girl from London; the second case was in a companion of the former, in the same family, her disease being ordinary pustular smallpox; both had been vaccinated. One hundred cases in the epidemic were thus assorted:

Cases Deaths

Smallpox 43 13 Modified hornpox, &c. 47 0 Varicella 10 0

That is to say, the mortality of the whole was thirteen per cent., an ordinary mortality for a country town. There were all extremes, from confluent smallpox to discrete, many of the discrete having no proper pustules “but hard vesicles of more or less tubercular appearance.... These were termed by the people nerles or hornpox, and have long been noticed by very aged matrons, who pretend to no little skill in the diagnostics of smallpox, and who have distinct varieties by name, beyond the enumeration of any nosologist.” Their diagnostic skill was natural enough, for the practice in smallpox had been almost entirely in their hands.

A certain proportion of hornpox cases was so characteristic of this epidemic (1816-19) as to have been remarked everywhere--in England as well as in Scotland. The epidemic was not well reported as a whole at any one place. Sometimes, as at Ulverston, only the vaccinated cases were given; at other times, as at Cupar Fife and Edinburgh, only the “hornpox” cases were given; again, in the account of the Norwich epidemic, which is the fullest, the large number of cases with crystalline or horny eruption were not counted in as smallpox cases at all. Dewar’s table of the Cupar Fife epidemic, in the spring of 1817, included 70 cases, all of crystalline or hornpox[1103]. The latter variety was part of the epidemic at St Andrews[1104].

The Edinburgh cases which Thomson heard of to the end of the epidemic numbered 556, assorted as follows[1105]:

310 had been vaccinated. 41 had had smallpox (doubtless by inoculation). 205 had neither been vaccinated nor had smallpox.

A large proportion had the crystalline eruption, while some of the deaths are put down to “malignant crystalline water-pock.” At Lanark and New Lanark the epidemic was also taken notice of[1106]. At the latter were situated the cotton mills managed under Robert Owen’s co-operative system; and it appears that vaccination had been somewhat generally carried out in this socialist community. The following was the incidence of smallpox upon 322 persons:

251 had been vaccinated. 3 were under vaccination at the time. 11 had been inoculated with smallpox, or had gone through the natural smallpox. 57 had neither been vaccinated nor variolated.

It is clear that this was the first severe and general epidemic in Scotland since the beginning of the century, although we have seen that the disease had never been out of Glasgow. Thomson saw well enough how that epidemiological fact told: “It is to the severity of this epidemic, I am convinced, that we ought to attribute the greatness of the number of the vaccinated who have been attacked by it, and not to any deterioration in the qualities of cowpox virus, or to any defects in the manner in which it has been employed. [Dewar said the same for Cupar Fife.] Had a variolous constitution of the atmosphere, similar to that which we have lately experienced, existed at the time Dr Jenner brought forward his discovery, it may be doubted whether it ever could have obtained the confidence of the public.” Thomson himself, professor of military surgery in Edinburgh and a person of high character, drew the most astonishing inferences from the tolerably simple facts of the epidemic in 1817-19. The crystalline was mixed with the ordinary pustular smallpox in this epidemic, as it had been in some 18th century epidemics; it was common to those who had been vaccinated and to those who had not been so; it occurred in those who had previously gone through the chickenpox. Yet the professor concluded that crystalline or hornpox was smallpox “modified” by vaccination, that it should be called “varioloid,” and that “modified” smallpox and chickenpox were the same disease.

Several cases of smallpox had occurred in the spring of 1816 at Quarndon, two miles from Derby, one or two of the nine cases proving fatal. Several of the Derby doctors went to see them, some calling them “aggravated chickenpox,” and others “mild smallpox after vaccination.” In the spring following (1817), most of the children and young people in the villages of Breadsall, Smalling, Spondon, Heaver, and others near Derby, were afflicted with the epidemic, which declined in autumn. It came back in the spring of 1818, when it spread more generally than before, and was still prevalent at the end of that year, in Nottinghamshire and Staffordshire as well as in Derbyshire. In Herefordshire, also, in February, 1818, “typhus, measles and smallpox were at once raging.” The disease proved fatal in many instances among the lower orders in Derbyshire, who still followed the heating regimen, giving the children saffron to drink, and holding them in blankets before a strong fire, to bring the eruption out; but it was fatal also to some who were treated more rationally. In this part of England, as in Lancashire, Wigtonshire, Fifeshire, Edinburgh, and elsewhere, a large proportion of the cases had the crystalline eruption of smallpox, horny or glassy pimples or hard vesicles, which dried about the sixth day. But, said Dr Bent, the peculiar form “is the same in those persons who have never had the cowpox and in those who have passed through that disease satisfactorily.” His two drawings of the characteristic hornpox were made from unvaccinated children. On the very day of his writing he had seen two children in the same family, both with the crystalline eruption, the one vaccinated and the other not. In his practice at the Derby Infirmary, one in-patient and one out-patient had died of smallpox after vaccination, and one out-patient had died of it who had not been vaccinated. He was greatly astonished, after all that had been said of the certainty of cowpox protection[1107].

The epidemic of 1817-19 was longest in reaching the Eastern Counties, just as that of 1741-42 had been, and that of 1837-39 was to be. It was also towards the close of 1818 and beginning of 1819 that the disease became frequent in Canterbury. When it did reach Norwich, Lynn and many other places in Norfolk and Suffolk it became unusually destructive. The history of smallpox in Norwich from the beginning of the century was a history of the usual periodic epidemics, such as the city had been visited by in former times, according to the records in Blomefield’s History or other sources. The first epidemic was in the year 1805, when smallpox was unusually common in London also. The next, with 203 deaths, lasted from 1807 to 1809. In 1813, the bills again showed many deaths by it from 10 February to 3 September. For fully four years after that there was not a death from smallpox reported in Norwich. In June, 1818, by which time the epidemic had reached large dimensions in Ireland, Scotland, and part of England, it was brought to Norwich by a girl who had come with her parents from York; it spread little at the time, the deaths to the end of the year being only two. Meanwhile measles was a very frequent and fatal disease among the children in Norwich throughout the year 1818. The smallpox began to rage in April, 1819, after which the measles was hardly met with, and only a few cases of scarlatina. The following table shows the enormous rapidity with which smallpox went through the infants and children of the Norwich populace when it had once fairly begun[1108]:

Deaths from Deaths from 1819 smallpox other diseases Total

January 3 61 64 February 0 71 71 March 2 68 70 April 15 61 76 May 73 63 136 June 156 70 226 July 142 61 203 August 84 63 147 September 42 96 138 October 10 63 73 November 2 62 64 December 1 83 84 ---- ---- ---- 530 822 1352

In one week of June, there were forty-three burials from smallpox. Half the deaths were of infants under two years; nearly all the rest were of children under ten:

Total 0-2 -4 -6 -8 -10 -15 -20 -30 -40

530 260 132 85 26 17 5 2 2 1

If the deaths were at the rate of one in about six cases, there would have been some three thousand children attacked in a population of 50,000 of all ages. Two hundred cases which Cross kept notes of were classified by him thus:

Mild 75 Severe 78 Confluent 42 Petechial 5

Forty-six of these died, a rather high rate of 23 per cent., which is due perhaps to the crystalline or hornpox cases being excluded from the definition of smallpox altogether; all the petechial or haemorrhagic cases died, and most of the confluent. Sloughing of the face, lips or labia, occurred in three children, and bloody stools in many of the worst cases. Those 200 cases occurred in 112 families, comprising 603 individuals, of whom nearly one-half (297) “had smallpox formerly” (including the inoculated form of it, doubtless).

This was a great epidemic for Norwich in the 19th century. The public health there, as elsewhere, had improved greatly since the 18th century. In 1742 the deaths had been increased 502 by smallpox; but in that year, a year of severe typhus, the deaths from all causes were 1953, against 1352 in 1819. One reason of the enormous smallpox mortality from May to September, 1819, was the number of susceptible children, all the greater that there had been hardly any smallpox for five years, whereas in towns such as Norwich in the 18th century it appears to have been perennial: all the greater, also, because “the removal of families from the country to Norwich, during a flourishing and improving state of our manufactures for two or three preceding years, gave a sudden increase to the number of those liable to the disease.” Norwich may have been better off than many other towns; but the winter of 1816-17, when the smallpox epidemic began, was a time of depressed trade, many families being on the move in search of work; and it does not appear that all those who crowded to Norwich had found employment. The epidemic was “confined almost exclusively to the very lowest orders of the people;” the contagion was spread abroad among them by the shifts they were reduced to in their indigence--“the public exposure of hideous objects just recovering, loaded with scabs, at the street corners.” Yet this deplorable state of want and beggary does not seem to have been accompanied with much typhus fever among the adult population, as it certainly was in 1742. Cross describes a petechial fever, in May, June and July, 1819, which was fatal in all the cases that he was called to; but he speaks of it only among children. Whenever the population increases rapidly, as it had been doing in the second decade of the 19th century, it is upon the young lives that epidemic mortality falls most. The smallpox epidemic at Norwich in 1819 caused rather more deaths than in 1742, when the public health was very much worse; but it would hardly have caused so many had it not been aided by the state of population.

The epidemic of 1819 spread all over East Anglia[1109]. At Lynn there had been a good deal of the disease three years before; in 1819 there were so many deaths from it that in June the clergy ordered the smallpox burials to be specially marked in the register, from which date until the end of August they numbered forty. At Yarmouth the epidemic was still raging at the end of 1819. Of ninety-one surgeons in Norfolk and Suffolk who replied to a circular issued by Cross, all but eleven saw cases of smallpox in 1819, three had had cases in 1818, two had seen the disease in 1817, and one in 1816. Generally speaking, the disease had been in abeyance in those counties for seven years; a surgeon of Prudham, whose practice covered eleven parishes, had seen no case of smallpox for twelve years before. The largest number of deaths in the practice of any one surgeon was twelve. Twenty-eight surgeons together had 598 smallpox patients, with 97 deaths; but in their districts there had been 180 deaths besides from the same disease, in families unvisited by them.

The accounts of this epidemic in London are most meagre. In the bills of mortality, now become quite inadequate to the whole capital, the deaths rose to 1051 in 1817, fell next year to 421, and in 1819 were 712. But it was in the year 1819 that the admissions to the smallpox hospital were most numerous, namely, 193, the highest number since the epidemic of 1805, when they were 280 in the year. The horny or crystalline kind of smallpox was found in London, as elsewhere[1110].

In the spring of 1818, “smallpox post vaccinationem” was frequent among the boys of Christ’s Hospital[1111]. None of the cases proved fatal that year, but there was a death in the school from smallpox in 1820, probably the last fatality from that cause in the history of the school[1112].

A few casual notices of smallpox in England in the years following the epidemic of 1817-19 lead one to suppose that the disease did not again fall to that apparent extinction which it had reached before the last epidemic began. It is heard of in and around Chichester in 1821; nineteen surgeons who supplied Dr John Forbes with information had seen about 130 to 140 cases, with 20 deaths; about 80 of the cases were in persons previously inoculated with cowpox, 19 cases (or the most of 19) were in persons previously inoculated with smallpox[1113]. This was doubtless the experience of paying patients only; according to the East Anglian precedent of 1819 there would have been twice as much smallpox in families who received no professional treatment. Canterbury is another town from which a rapidly spreading epidemic of smallpox is reported--in the winter of 1823-4. It continued into the winter and spring of 1824-25, among the poor, fatal cases being by no means rare. Dr Carter frequently saw children exposed in the streets of Canterbury with smallpox upon them; he appealed to the mayor to have some check imposed on the spread of contagion, but nothing was done, and smallpox was still prevalent at the date of his writing in the autumn of 1824[1114]. The same year there was a severe epidemic at Oxford. These were probably only samples of epidemics filling the interval from 1819 to 1825, when smallpox again became general.

Extent of Inoculation with Cowpox or Smallpox, 1801-1825.

Twenty-five years had now passed since cowpox became the rival or substitute of the old matter of inoculation. The history at this point requires some notice of the extent to which each of those methods was practised. Professional opinion, or that part of it which found expression, was for the most part in favour of cowpox. The Smallpox and Inoculation Hospital of London took the lead, under Woodville, in substituting cowpox for smallpox, and other public institutions, such as the Newcastle and Whitehaven Dispensaries, quickly followed. The new mode was practised upon larger numbers than the old. At the Newcastle Dispensary the inoculations of smallpox from 1786 to 1801 had been 3268; the inoculations of cowpox from 1801 to 1825 were 20,264. At the Whitehaven Dispensary 173 children were inoculated with smallpox in 1796, the total inoculations before that having been 906. To the end of 1803 the total vaccinations were 490, of which many were done during the severe outbreak of smallpox in 1803.

In Glasgow, where the old inoculation was either little practised or of little use, the Jennerian mode was received with favour, and was offered to the children of the working classes gratuitously at the Hall of the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons. From the 15th of May, 1801, to the 31st of December, 1811, these public vaccinations numbered 14,500, an average of about 1400 in the year. In the next seven years they declined as follows:

1812 950 1813 1162 1814 875 1815 926 1816 980 1817 820 1818 650

On the revival of smallpox the Glasgow Cowpock Institution was opened on 28 August, 1818, and vaccinated 146 to the 1st of January, 1819. The smaller demand for even gratuitous vaccination of infants after 1812 was owing to the very small amount of smallpox in Glasgow in those years; in the six years, 1813-19, there were said (by Cleland) to have been only 236 deaths from smallpox in a total of 22,060 deaths from all causes, or 1·07 per cent. of all deaths[1115]. Not more than a fourth part of all the infants born in Glasgow had been vaccinated in the years 1812 to 1818, and that was the time when smallpox was at its lowest point among the infantile causes of death. In some of those years when smallpox was in abeyance measles was most destructive. It was currently said in Glasgow that vaccination, if it discouraged smallpox, predisposed to measles, an opinion of the populace which Malthus shared from the à priori point of view. But in a survey of the individual cases in their practice the Glasgow doctors did not find that those were the relevant circumstances, whatever the truly relevant things may have been. Thus, Dr Robert Watt, a good observer and cautious reasoner, who became president of the Glasgow faculty, wrote: “The only family within my knowledge where three died of the measles in 1808 was one where none of the children had been either vaccinated or had had the smallpox. I met with another family where two died in the same circumstances”--that is to say, five children, in two families, escaped smallpox to die of measles, no artificial interference having been attempted[1116].

Manchester was another populous district where vaccination had been freely offered to the poorer classes. Roberton, writing in 1827, says that it had been on the decline for several years, and gives the following figures for the earlier period, May, 1815, to May, 1823[1117]: At the Manchester Lying-in Charity the annual average of deliveries was 2667, while the number of infants brought back for vaccination averaged 1392 in a year. During the same eight years public vaccinations at the Manchester Infirmary averaged 1700 annually. Great numbers of infants were said, also, to have been vaccinated gratuitously by druggists. The decline in the number of vaccinations, which had perhaps begun some time before (as at Glasgow), was shown conclusively by the returns for the two years May, 1824--May, 1826. The births at the Lying-in Charity averaged 3285 per annum; but the vaccinations in the infants brought back to the charity, together with those brought to the Manchester Infirmary, averaged only 1309 per annum.

Newcastle, Glasgow and Manchester were probably favourable instances of the extent of public vaccinations in the first quarter of the century. In London the proportion of vaccinations to births is known to have been smaller, although there was more money going and at one time four public charities--the Vaccine Pock Institution, the Royal Jennerian Society, Walker’s offshoot from the latter, and the Inoculation Hospital. The following were the vaccinations at the Inoculation Hospital in four periods of five years each from 1806[1118]:

1806-10 7,004 1811-15 9,339 1816-20 13,348 1821-25 16,666 ------ 46,357

Annual average 2317.

At Norwich, Dr Rigby succeeded in 1812 in persuading the Board of Guardians to offer half-a-crown premium to parents for each child brought to be vaccinated. The premiums paid were as follows:

1812 (12 Aug.-31 Dec.) 1066 1813 511 1814 47 1815 11 1816 348 1817 49 1818 64

--the annual births being from a thousand to twelve hundred[1119].

At the Canterbury Hospital the applications for free vaccinations fluctuated as follows:

1818 52 1819 249 1820 263 1821 47 1822 35 1823 50 1824 (Jan.-July) 588

The sudden rise in 1819-20 and again in 1824 was owing to smallpox being epidemic in the city. During the severe epidemic of 1824 there were 250 vaccinations at the Dispensary, besides the 588 at the hospital[1120]. At Kendal the following is the Dispensary record of vaccinations for three years, the annual average of births being 390[1121]:

1819 221 1820 102 1821 73

These are examples of the spasmodic demand for vaccination in the towns. The following is an instance of general vaccination in a village during an epidemic:

The village of North Queensferry, near Edinburgh, had a population of 390. There was an epidemic of smallpox from 14 December, 1811, to 7 March, 1812, during which time 46 children, from one to fifteen years, were attacked, and seven died, the same number that had died in the last epidemic, in 1797. When the epidemic was over there were only nine persons in the village, most of them aged, who had neither had smallpox nor cowpox. Those who had been vaccinated numbered 132; while of those “formerly vaccinated” only two were included among the 46 children who caught smallpox in 1811-12. The adult population must have nearly all gone through smallpox in former epidemics[1122]. These general vaccinations during or towards the end of an epidemic were exactly comparable to the general inoculations by the old method. At Norwich, where a premium of half-a-crown was given to parents for each vaccination, the epidemic of smallpox in 1819 stimulated the practice somewhat, the increase in July and August having followed a public meeting of the inhabitants and a combined effort of the doctors:

Progress of Progress of premium the mortality vaccinations

January 3 26 February 0 51 March 2 101 April 15 226 May 73 226 June 156 92 July 142 301 August 84 359 September 42 14 October 10 4 November 2 2 December 1 0

Cross estimated that a fifth part of the population of Norwich (50,000) were vaccinated--8000 before the epidemic of 1819, and 2000 during the epidemic. Many of the adults had been through the smallpox in the ordinary way in former epidemics. The state of vaccination throughout Norfolk and Suffolk was indicated in the answers made by ninety-one practitioners to the circular of queries sent out by Cross. Twenty-six had done 13,313 vaccinations during the epidemic of 1819. The whole number in the practice of those ninety-one from first to last had been 120,000, two of the practitioners having vaccinated none.

To sum up, as well as the records enable us to do, the extent of the new practice in the first quarter of the century, it was systematically carried out from year to year among the infants of large towns, such as Glasgow, Newcastle, Manchester and London, and in these the maximum of gratuitous vaccinations in proportion to the births may have been one-half. In smaller towns and in country parishes the inoculations of cowpox, like those of smallpox, appear to have been irregular or by fits and starts, the alarm of smallpox being the occasion for them. But after the epidemic of 1817-19, which was the most general since cowpox had been tried, it was not mere negligence or procrastination that kept parents back, it was distrust of the new practice and preference for the old.

The original mode of inoculation, with the matter of smallpox itself, was far from being supplanted by its rival. In Jenner’s first essay the latter was put forward tentatively, not indeed because of any want of confidence in asserting its protective powers, but because it was only in certain circumstances that a substitute was desired for the old inoculation. Some of those who took up the new matter soon discontinued the old altogether, as at the Newcastle and Whitehaven Dispensaries. At the London Inoculation Hospital the old practice was given up for out-patients after 1807, and for in-patients about 1821. In private practice, tastes or preferences differed. While ordinary people left it to the discretion of their medical advisers, commissioning them to inoculate their children “with either kind of pock,” the upper classes “judge for themselves, and those among them who are philanthropists and converts to the new faith inoculate their own children and those of the poor together[1123].” Moseley, in 1808, said that the “mere operative practice” in cowpox, by which phrase he meant to contrast the academic countenance of it by eminent physicians and surgeons, had been “chiefly carried on by lady-doctors, wrong-headed clergymen, and disorderly men-midwives,” Dr Pearson being named as the only man of letters or pretensions to science who had been practically concerned in it of late[1124].

There was really little to choose between the new method and the old so far as concerned facility of operating; if anything, the inoculation of smallpox was the more difficult of the two, although that also was largely practised by amateurs[1125]. Again, as regards remunerativeness, inoculation with smallpox no longer required the combined services of a physician, a surgeon and an apothecary; it had become a matter of simple routine, just as ill paid (or as well paid, according to circumstances) as inoculation with the matter from the cow. It was not on such grounds, but on grounds of scientific principle or of sentimental interest, that an active propaganda was kept up in favour of the old inoculation. The leading defenders of the latter, such as Moseley, physician to Chelsea Hospital, and Birch, surgeon to St Thomas’s Hospital, maintained that cowpox was alien in nature to smallpox and could not be received as its equivalent. The foreign protagonists, such as Dr Müller, of Frankfort, and Dr Verdier, of Paris, emphasized still more the radical unlikeness of cowpox to smallpox. Said Verdier: “The vaccinists appeal to experience, setting aside all objections based upon the unlikeness of cowpox to smallpox. We are to be made invulnerable by vaccine as Achilles was made invulnerable by being dipped in the waters of the Styx. Protection by cowpox contradicts the received principle of inoculation. It is in vain to appeal to experience against established principles: for true principles are the result of the experience of all ages, and become the touchstone of each successive empirical innovation.”

The English inoculators by the old method gave all sorts of reasons for their preference, and were doubtless actuated by the usual mixture of motives. There were medical families, such as the Lipscombs, who had an hereditary interest and pride in inoculation. It was a Lipscomb who had recited in the Sheldonian Theatre during the Oxford commemoration of 1772, a poem, “On the Beneficial Effects of Inoculation.” Inoculators to the third generation, it was not surprising that the Lipscomb family should have caused to be printed in 1807, as if to shame the changing fashion of the day, the prize poem of five-and-thirty years before, which contained such spirited lines as these:

“When, pierced with grief at sad Britannia’s woes, Her country’s guardian Montagu arose: Pure patriot zeal her ev’ry thought inspir’d, Glow’d on her cheek, and all her bosom fir’d. She saw the Tyrant rage without controul, While just revenge inflam’d her gen’rous soul. Full well she knew, when beauty’s charms decay’d, Britannia’s drooping laurels soon would fade: Pierc’d with deep anguish at the afflictive thought And whelm’d with shame, a heav’n-taught Nymph she sought, Whose potent arm, with wondrous power endued, Had oft on Turkey’s plains the fiend subdued. Obedient to her prayer the willing Maid In pity came to sad Britannia’s aid. ‘Henceforth, fall’n Tyrant!’ cries the Nymph, ‘no more Hope that just Heav’n will thy lost pow’r restore: Let now no more thy touch profane defile The sacred beauties of Britannia’s isle. By me protected shall they now deride Thy baffled fury and thy vanquish’d pride[1126].’”

Still it was just among those classes to whom the argumentum ad nitorem came home most forcibly that the fashion had changed. Before the end of the 18th century, the danger to beauty from an attack of smallpox had become a matter chiefly of historical interest, carrying the mind back to the Restoration or the early Georgian era. The richer classes, while they seem to have countenanced cowpox inoculation as a good thing in general, were probably apathetic on their own account. Lord Mulgrave said in the House of Lords on 8 July, 1814; “If their lordships recollected how many persons of the higher order were reluctant to introduce vaccination into their families, it really must appear to them a harsh and arbitrary measure to lay the poor under the necessity of adopting the practice.” The working class had been manifesting a devotion to the old practice which, indeed, they had never shown so long as it was unchallenged. Perhaps one reason to account for the undoubted preference of the poorer classes for the old inoculation was that they had only lately taken to it. Another was that a good deal of inoculation was done by amateurs of their own class--blacksmiths, farriers, tradesmen and women. A third reason was that the poorer classes, among whom smallpox prevailed most, saw their children take smallpox all the same, and cared little for the scientific explanation that a false or spurious kind of cowpox matter had been used. In October, 1805, a correspondent wrote from London to an Edinburgh journal: “The many late failures of supposed cowpock to prevent the smallpox have excited in some parts so much clamour among the lower orders of people that they insist upon being inoculated for the smallpox at some of the public institutions[1127].” A report on vaccination made to Parliament by the College of Physicians in 1807, deplores “the inconsiderate manner in which great numbers of persons ever since the introduction of vaccination are still every year inoculated with the smallpox.” When, in consequence of the same report, a vote was brought forward in Parliament to give Dr Jenner a national reward of twenty thousand pounds in addition to the ten thousand that he had got five years before, the populace were so angry that one of their leaders, John Gale Jones, himself a medical man, sent a message to Jenner at his lodgings in Bedford Place to advise him “immediately to quit London, for there was no knowing what an enraged populace might do[1128].”

Few particulars remain of the old inoculation at this time. One fact significant of the impression that the criticisms of cowpox had made is that Dr John Walker, director of the Royal Jennerian Society, who pushed “vaccination” among the poorer classes more than anyone in London, was all the while an inoculator in the old manner. He wrote to Lettsom, “I have from the first introduction of vaccination entertained an opinion respecting its nature different from those who suppose it a substitute only for smallpox.... I have, from an early part of my practice, been in the habit of diluting smallpox virus with water previous to its introduction into the system;” and this he had been doing in the name of Jenner, under the influence of a belief that, if cowpox were not smallpox, it ought to be, that it was a pity the disease had ever been called cowpox, and that the name (which was a very old one) “has only served to debase it in the eyes of the common people, and prevent its general adoption[1129].” The very director of the Jennerian institute was among the prophets of the old inoculation.

With the revival of smallpox in general epidemic diffusion in 1816-19 we begin to hear more of the old inoculation. The account already cited of the outbreak at Ulverston contains a table of fourteen previously cowpoxed children whom it was thought desirable during the epidemic to inoculate with smallpox, all of them receiving the infection in one degree or another. A practitioner at Dunse, Berwickshire, not only returned to the old inoculation (thereby incurring “much odium,” as he believed), but actually took his matter from the natural smallpox of his cowpox failures[1130].

When the epidemic reached the Eastern Counties, there were demands for the old kind of inoculation, not in Norwich only, but in numerous country parishes. Of ninety-one surgeons in Norfolk and Suffolk, who answered the queries of Cross, thirty-eight had practised the inoculation of smallpox in the epidemic of 1819; five of them, after having refused many private applications for inoculation in the old way, had at length yielded to the desire of the Overseers of the Poor, and had inoculated whole parishes. Cross’s correspondents also testified that there was much inoculation going on at that time in the Eastern Counties by the hands of farriers, blacksmiths, tailors, shoemakers and women.

Dr John Forbes, who then practised at Chichester, brought to light an exactly similar state of public feeling in Sussex in 1821-22[1131]. In the parish of Bosham there lived a farmer named Pearce who had an inherited skill in inoculating, his father having inserted smallpox into ten thousand persons in his day, without killing one of them. Pearce offered to wager with Forbes a considerable sum that he would inoculate any number of persons and that none of them should have more than twenty pustules. He believed that the smallpox matter became “as weak as water” by an uninterrupted transmission from one body to another.

In November, 1821, the Overseers of the Poor employed him to inoculate the pauper children, and his skill was soon in request for others, so that from two to three hundred in the parish were inoculated by him within a short time. He charged half-a-crown or a crown for each. From other parishes the people flocked to him in such numbers that he inoculated upwards of a thousand in the winter and spring of 1821-22. Before long he had three itinerant rivals, a knifegrinder, a tinsmith and a fishmonger, who claimed to have inoculated together a thousand persons, including four hundred previously cowpoxed. The surgeons of Emsworthy and Havant at length joined in the business, and in the space of six or eight weeks inoculated from twelve to thirteen hundred persons, who had not been previously vaccinated. Forbes also received from his medical friends in and around Chichester “an account of 680 cases of previously vaccinated individuals subjected by them to variolous inoculation.” In the great majority of these the constitutional symptoms were so slight as to be only just observable, the eruption consisting of only a few pustules, which were all that the Pearces, of Bosham, father and son, ever expected to get with inoculated smallpox where no infection of cowpox had preceded. Disappointments with the new inoculation had led to a great revival of the old also at Canterbury, the operators being mostly women.

The same thing happened in Cambridgeshire and in Bucks. In a parish within eleven miles of Cambridge several hundred persons were inoculated with smallpox in 1824, and in April, 1825, a medical practitioner inoculated a number in a village near[1132]. During a severe epidemic in the parish of Great Missenden, Bucks, which followed a general vaccination, and caused a prejudice against the latter, the old inoculation was generally resorted to[1133]. It looked for a brief period, about the time of the epidemic of 1824-26, as if the old inoculation were to return to favour even with the profession itself. Dr John Forbes wrote of the two kinds of inoculation in a studiously impartial manner. Dr Robert Ferguson, who was also destined to make a name, addressed in 1825 a letter to Sir Henry Halford in which he advocated a singular compromise, namely, two inoculations, one with cowpox, the other with smallpox, the cowpox to neutralize the contagiousness of the smallpox for the occasion, while the latter was to be the prophylactic against itself for the future[1134]. This reaction, if it deserves that name, corresponds in time to the great decline in the number of gratuitous vaccinations at Manchester, a decline which had been equally remarkable at Glasgow for some years before. There was at least an apathetic spirit towards cowpox inoculation during the epidemic of 1817-19, and for a good many years after it, while there was something like toleration, even among medical men, for the old inoculation.

The Smallpox Epidemic of 1825-26.

Compared with the epidemic of 1837-40, which was the first in England to be recorded under the new system of registration of the causes of death, the smallpox of 1825-26 makes a poor figure in the records. Yet there is reason to believe that it was an epidemic of the same general kind, if not of the same duration or fatality. At the Newcastle Dispensary far more children in the smallpox were visited in 1825 than in any year since its opening in 1777, namely, 113 cases, with 28 deaths, which would have been a small fraction of all the cases in Newcastle. At the Rusholme Road Cemetery, Manchester, which received about a fourth part of the burials, 112 children, all under seven years, were buried from smallpox in the six months, 18 June to 18 December, 1826[1135]. At Bury St Edmunds smallpox began to be epidemic about the end of 1824, when the guardians ordered a general vaccination, and reached its worst in July, 1825, the type being confluent in many of the cases[1136]. It was in Cambridgeshire villages the same year, and is casually heard of in Bucks[1137]. It had been severe at Oxford and Canterbury in 1824. At Glasgow the prevalence of fever is known for the corresponding years, but the smallpox deaths have not been taken out of the burial registers. The evidence from London is perhaps the best indication that the smallpox of 1825 was one of the more severe periodic visitations.

The extensive prevalence of smallpox was heard of in Paris before the epidemic attracted much notice in London; the news of persons of distinction dying by smallpox in the French capital reads like the old notices of it in 17th century letters. In the same year it was very severe also in Sweden after a long period of quiescence. As to London, Dr George Gregory, physician to the Smallpox Hospital, said[1138]: “It may be inferred that smallpox has been nearly as general in 1825 as in any of the three great epidemics of the preceding century”--the demand for admission to the Hospital being, in his opinion, a fair index; while private information confirmed the estimate of its truly epidemic prevalence, and of its incidence chiefly upon the lower classes[1139]. In the years of the 18th century to which he referred, and in four maximum years of the 19th century, the cases and deaths at the Smallpox Hospital had been as follows[1140]:

London Smallpox Hospital.

Year Cases Deaths

1777 497 125 1781 646 257 1796 447 148 1805 280 97 1819 193 61 1822 194 57 1825 419 120

While the demands upon the beds of the hospital pointed, as Gregory supposed, to the existence of a great epidemic in London, comparable to those of 1777, 1781 or 1796, in which years the smallpox deaths were returned by the parish clerks at 2567, 3500 and 3548 respectively, yet in 1825 the bills showed only 1299 deaths from smallpox. Gregory accepted without demur the figures of the parish clerks’ bills in 1825, although it is well known that they had become more and more defective, even for the original parishes, since the end of the 18th century[1141]. “But for the general prevalence of vaccination,” he said, the smallpox deaths in 1825 would have been 4000 in the same number of attacks, the difference being in the rate of fatality. His conclusion for all London was based upon the experience of the Smallpox Hospital. The patients received by that charity were of the same class as formerly, most of them being adults, among whom the proportion of fatalities was greater than at all ages. Taking the three epidemics of the 18th century with which he compared the epidemic of 1825 in respect of extent or number of attacks, we find that 25 per cent. of the cases admitted died in 1777, 39 per cent. in 1781 (the seasons were unwholesome by epidemic agues, dysenteries, and typhus), and 33 per cent. in 1796. The average of fatalities at the hospital from its opening in 1746 to the end of the century was about 29 per cent., and that was exactly the ratio of deaths among the 419 patients in 1825. The rate of fatality was a little higher than in the epidemic of 1777, and a little lower than in each of the epidemics of 1781 and 1796. Gregory in 1825 was enabled to separate the sheep from the goats by the dividing line of cowpox, the former dying at the rate of 8 per cent., the latter at the rate of 41 per cent. There are various ways of apportioning a general average. The presence or absence of cowpox scars is one principle, which could not have been used to break up the 25 per cent of 1777, or the 39 per cent, of 1781, or the 33 per cent. of 1796, into two component parts. One thing common to all times is the different rate of fatality at different ages. All the deaths in the 8 per cent. division of 1825 were between the ages of eighteen and twenty-seven; the ages of the 41 per cent. division are written in the books of the hospital. In portioning out the general rate of fatality from typhus fever at the London Fever Hospital, it is found that the dividing line of age is nearly the same as the dividing line of social position; in one table the high ratio of deaths to attacks is among persons in the second half of life, and the low ratio among persons in the flower of their age; in another table the many deaths to cases are among paupers, and the few fatalities among paying patients[1142]. However manifold the cutting up of a general average, some divisions would be identical, corresponding to natural lines of cleavage.

Having indicated the chief points in the vaccination controversy by the instance of Gregory’s arguments sixty years since, (to which might have been added the question of efficient or inefficient vaccination according to the appearance of the scars in after life[1143]), I shall for the rest depart from the usual practice of interlocking the history of smallpox epidemics with the history of vaccination. I shall treat the latter as ex hypothesi irrelevant, leaving it to each reader to incorporate, as matter of his own familiar knowledge or belief, whatever effects of cowpox upon smallpox, whether temporary effects or permanent, modifying effects or absolutely prophylactic, may suit his particular creed. I am led to take this course for several reasons. It leaves me free to look at the epidemics of smallpox from the same point of view as the other epidemics treated of in this work. It avoids a controversy which, unlike that of inoculation, is still actual, and unsuited to a historical treatise. It enables me to omit the excuses for failure, which are apt to be interminable and to usurp the whole space available for the epidemiology proper. Lastly, the irrelevancy which I here conveniently assume happens to be my real belief,--as elsewhere set forth in an examination of the antecedent probability arising out of the pathological nature and affinities of cowpox, and in a study of the grounds on which the authority of the profession was originally given to Dr Jenner’s teaching.

The interval between the epidemic of 1825 and that of 1837-39 was occupied by a good deal of smallpox steadily from year to year in London, the deaths from which, in the following table from the bills of mortality, are to be understood as only a part of the whole, according to the explanation already given:

Smallpox Year deaths

1826 503 1827 616 1828 598 1829 736 1830 627 1831 563 1832 771 1833 574 1834 334 1835 863 1836 536 1837 217

The inadequacy of these returns will appear from the fact that the 217 deaths in 1837 rose, under the new system of registration, from 1 July to 31 December, to 762, or to fully three times as many for the last six months as the parish clerks returned for the whole year. Their bills had become most defective when they were about to be, or had been superseded; but even on the special occasion of the cholera in 1832 they returned only some three-fifths of the known deaths. Besides these London figures there is little to show the extent of smallpox in England between the epidemic of 1825 and that of 1837-39. This was the time when many complaints were made of the so-called loss of power or strength in the current cowpox matter for inoculation. These complaints appear to have arisen from the greater frequency of smallpox among the cowpoxed, corresponding to the increasing numbers of the whole population who had received that kind of inoculation. “Secondary smallpox,” says a report from Worcestershire in 1833, “has been very prevalent of late years[1144],” the term “secondary” reflecting the teaching of Baron, chairman of the Smallpox Committee of the Medical Association, that cowpox itself was the primary smallpox. The increasing number of the vaccinated who took smallpox was clearly shown in the returns from the Smallpox Hospital of London, and was believed to be in proportion to the increasing number of the rising generation who had been vaccinated[1145].

A generation of Smallpox in Glasgow.

Glasgow had afforded the most striking instance in Britain of the decline of smallpox after the beginning of the 19th century. The decline was observed everywhere, but it was most noticeable in Glasgow, partly because the smallpox mortality of infants at the end of the 18th century had been excessive there, partly because Dr Watt took the trouble to prove it statistically from the burial registers. In the last six years of the 18th century, 1795-1800, smallpox had contributed 18·7 per cent. of the deaths from all causes; from 1801 to 1806, it contributed 8·9 per cent., and from 1807 to 1812 only 3·9 per cent. In the next six years, 1813-19, if Cleland’s search of the registers has been as laborious as Watt’s, the share of smallpox was only 1·07 per cent. of the deaths from all causes, which would mean that Glasgow was hardly at all touched by the epidemic of 1817-19, reported from many other parts of Scotland[1146]. But the lull in smallpox, which corresponded on the whole to the still greater lull in fevers during the prosperous times of the second half of the French war, was broken in Glasgow, if not in 1817, yet before long. Unfortunately there is a break in the statistics also. From 1821 the magistrates caused annual bills of mortality to be published, which did not, however, specify the causes of death until 1835[1147]. But we have some intermediate glimpses of the state of the poorer classes and of the prevalence of smallpox in particular. Writing in 1827, Dr Mac Farlane one of the poor’s surgeons, remarks upon the feeble stamina, sallow complexions, and the like, of all but a few children in the more crowded parts, adding that smallpox both in the virulent and “modified” forms had been more prevalent during the last three or four years than formerly[1148]. Three years after, Drs Andrew Buchanan and Weir gave an account of the state of the poor in Glasgow, which shows that it had actually deteriorated with the growth of the city. The poorer classes had been in some part displaced from their old dwellings in the heart of the town owing to the building of warehouses or the like, and had been provided with no new habitations as good as the old. “Apartments originally intended for cellars, and occupied as such until lately, are now inhabited by large families, and the only opening for light and air is the door, which when shut encloses the poor creatures in a tainted atmosphere and in total darkness. This is well exemplified in the cellars belonging to the houses on the south side of St Andrew’s Street.” Not only the notorious region of the Wynds, containing part of the three parishes of the Tron, St Enoch’s and St James’s, but also the Saltmarket and Gallowgate, were crowded with a destitute, vagrant and often vicious class of people. Many of the houses in the Wynds, with their network of alleys, were only one or two storeys high, in the old Scotch fashion; here were the night lodging-houses, with several beds in one room, two or three persons in a bed, twelve to eighteen people in as many square feet: “the extreme misery of these poor people is utterly inconceivable but to those who have actually witnessed it; it has certainly been carried to the very utmost point at which the existence of human beings is capable of being maintained. Some of them are lodged in places where no man of ordinary humanity would put a cow or a horse, and where those animals would not long remain with impunity.” Buchanan found sometimes a horse, sometimes an ass, sometimes pigs, in the same dungeon with one or more families[1149]. Such was the region in which Chalmers ministered from 1815 to 1822, first in the Tron parish, afterwards in the poor and crowded parish of St John’s. Things got no better, certainly, after he left worn out by his exertions, to become professor at St Andrews. Buchanan thought the best index of the degradation of the people in 1830 to be that not one in ten ever entered a church (if they had, he explains, the respectable congregation would have fled from their filth and rags). “The people are starving,” he exclaims, “and there is a law against the importation of food[1150].” It took sixteen years longer to secure the benefits of free trade, and meanwhile the public health of Glasgow got worse rather than better. The infantile part of it attracted far less notice than that which touched adults, so that we hear little of smallpox, while the records of fever and cholera are fairly complete. When the curtain is lifted in 1835 by the publication of statistics, the mortality of infants and children by infectious diseases is found to be proceeding as follows:

Glasgow Mortalities, 1835-39.

Deaths Deaths Deaths Deaths from all from from from Year causes smallpox measles scarlatina

1835 7198 473 426 273 1836 8441 577 518 355 1837 10270 351 350 79 1838 6932 388 405 87 1839 7525 406 783 262

According to the following table of the ages at death from smallpox, it will appear that a higher ratio of infants died of it in their first year at Glasgow than was the rule elsewhere, whether in the 18th or in the 19th century. It was only in the year 1837, when typhus was at its worst and smallpox had somewhat declined, that the deaths by the latter of infants under one year were fewer than those of infants in their second year:

Glasgow: Table of Deaths from Smallpox 1835 to 1839.

Under Above 1 1-2 2-5 5-10 10-20 20-30 30-40 40 Total

1835 204 154 75 17 14 8 1 0 473 1836 202 174 144 23 6 24 2 2 577 1837 93 116 94 24 10 11 4 0 352 1838 111 99 119 28 11 14 4 2 388 1839 137 98 113 19 15 17 5 2 406

Totals of five years 747 641 545 111 56 74 16 6 2196 \---------v---------/ Percentages 34% 29% 25% 5% 7%

Cowan, who published these figures in 1840, had written eight years before, “I fear that if the list of infantile diseases were still published in the mortality bills many deaths from smallpox would annually be found.” We do, indeed, hear of epidemics of smallpox not far from Glasgow. At Stranraer, in Sept.-Nov. 1829, “measles and smallpox attacked with scarcely an exception” all the children in the place who had not acquired immunity either by previous attacks or by the influence of vaccination; “and even these powerful protectives were, in many instances, of no avail.” The subjects of “unmodified” smallpox were nearly all infants of the poorer class. In St John’s Street, occupied by decent Scots labouring people, ten children had “unmodified” smallpox and all recovered; in Little Dublin Street, so called from its Irish tenants, fourteen children had smallpox, of whom six died[1151]. At Ayr, about the same time, there was an epidemic, which came to a height in 1830, causing a considerable mortality[1152]. At Edinburgh in the winter of 1830-31, it was unusually prevalent and fatal, the epidemic dying out in May, 1831[1153].

For three or four years, 1843-46, there was another lull in the prevalence of smallpox in Glasgow; but the mortality rose again, reaching in the two years 1851 and 1852 the total of 1202, in a population of 360,138, which contrasted with the 2212 deaths in London in the same two years, and with the Paris mortality of 706 in the two years 1850 and 1851, in a population of about one million, the deaths being still almost wholly infantile in Glasgow while they were in great part of adults in Paris[1154].

Glasgow Smallpox.

Smallpox Year deaths

1840 455 1841 (pop. 282,134) 347 1842 334 1843 151 1844 99 1845 195 1846 not recorded 1847 592 1848 300 1849 366 1850 456 1851 (pop. 360,138) 618 1852 584

Registration of the causes of death began in Scotland in 1855. In the first decennial period, to 1864, the smallpox deaths were 10,548, falling upon infancy and other age-periods as in the following table[1155]:

Age-periods Smallpox deaths

Under three months 774 Three to six months 668 Six to twelve months 1543 One to two years 1765 Two to three years 1132 Three to four years 798 Four to five years 514 ---------------------------------- Total under five years 7194 Above five years 3354 ------ 10,548

Smallpox in Ireland, 1830-40.

Before coming to the epidemic in England let us glance at the prevalence of smallpox at this period in Ireland. Dr Cowan, of Glasgow, was struck by the fact that among ninety patients in the Infirmary with smallpox, all adults, only four were from the considerable Irish population of the city, the larger number being natives of the Highlands of Scotland. This leads him to say: “The immunity of the Irish from smallpox is owing to the general practice of vaccination among the lower classes by the surgeons of the county and other dispensaries” (another Glasgow writer ascribes the prevalence of smallpox to the Irish negligence in the same matter). It happens that we can bring one part of this statement to a statistical test. The same volume of the Journal of the Statistical Society which contained the paper on the vital statistics of Glasgow contained also a statistical account of the public health of Limerick, by Dr Daniel Griffin, physician to the Dispensary[1156]. Dr Griffin’s figures were of the only kind that could then be got for an Irish town, and were representative rather than exhaustive. Struck by the seemingly enormous death-rate of infants in the poorest quarters of Limerick, he sought to bring out the facts with numerical precision. He provided a register-book at the Dispensary, in which he entered the results of his observations and retrospective inquiries among eight hundred families of the poorest class during “a good many years” down to 1840. The city of Limerick, and especially the parish of St Mary, was full of the misery and destitution that characterized Ireland in the years of its greatest over-population. The ejected cottiers and broken small farmers of the neighbouring county flocked to it, living in beggary in wretched lodging-houses with swarms of infants and children, the breadwinners finding only an occasional day’s work as labourers. Among 800 such families during the years of his inquiries the chief causes of death among the infants and children were as follows:

Limerick Dispensary Deaths.

Under Five Five to Above years Ten Ten Total

Convulsions 569 18 7 594 Smallpox 333 55 5 393 Measles 187 32 7 226 Diarrhoea and Dysentery 108 19 24 151 Whooping cough 84 10 1 95 Croup 85 9 1 95 Scarlatina 8 2 0 10 Fever 70 33 66 169

The more exact ages at death from smallpox in male and female children were:

Under One and Three and Five to Above One Two Four Nine Nine

Males 33 72 37 29 2 Females 52 92 47 26 3 -- --- -- -- -- 85 164 84 55 5

As compared with Glasgow, measles at Limerick has a much lower place than smallpox in the infantile mortality, while scarlatina hardly counts at all. Again, only 1·27 per cent. of the smallpox deaths are above the age of nine, whereas at Glasgow 7 per cent. are above the age of ten. Griffin’s data for reckoning the probability of life were incomplete, as he was well aware; so that the following comparison of the poor attending Limerick Dispensary with all England and Wales probably errs in making the Irish town somewhat more fatal to infants of the poor than it really was:

England and Wales Limerick Dispensary in 1000 deaths in 1000 deaths

Under one year 214·54 327·71 One and under three 128·00 287·67 Three and under five 48·51 128·20 Five and under ten 46·07 97·29 Ten and under fifteen 25·91 24·93 Fifteen and under twenty 34·16 20·37

In a thousand deaths at all ages, 391·05 occurred before the age of five years in England and Wales, but 743·58 before the age of five years among a certain section of the poor of Limerick; and in the latter enormous sacrifice of infant life smallpox was the greatest single means next to convulsions. Perhaps that was the reason why so few of the Irish in Glasgow were attacked by smallpox in adult age. The experience of Limerick was not exceptional in Ireland. In the ten years 1831-40, for which the causes of death were ascertained by means of queries in the census returns of 1841, the total of deaths by smallpox was 58,006, nearly double the mortality by measles (30,735) and seven times that of scarlatina (7,886). It was almost wholly a malady of infants and children, the first and second years of life being its most fatal period. Only 129 of these deaths were returned from hospitals. The bulk of the decennial smallpox deaths fell in the two years 1837 and 1838, corresponding with the high epidemic mortality in England[1157].

The Epidemic of 1837-40 in England.

The smallpox epidemic of 1837-40 was already in full force at Liverpool, Bath and Exeter when the mortality returns began to be made on 1st July, 1837, under the new Registration Act. Whether or not the contagion travelled from Ireland or the west of Scotland, the epidemic in England began in the west and south-west, and reached the Eastern counties last. The following table shows its rise and progress at selected places in the several quarters, beginning with the third quarter (July-September) of 1837[1158]:

1837 1838 1839 +---------+ +---------------------+ +---------------------+ 3rd 4th 1st 2nd 3rd 4th 1st 2nd 3rd 4th qr qr qr qr qr qr qr qr qr qr

Liverpool 375 132 32 24 18 36 11 29 75 138 Bath 154 18 15 1 1 2 1 25 17 30 Exeter 88 131 6 -- 2 -- -- -- -- -- Bristol 21 74 72 44 4 7 6 -- -- -- Clifton 16 32 49 27 7 -- -- -- 1 7 London 257 506 753 1145 1061 858 364 117 65 60 Manchester 23 98 127 120 111 180 94 40 33 53 Birmingham 34 55 85 86 66 47 26 12 7 10 Sheffield 14 14 27 36 22 12 9 3 4 -- Leeds 4 11 29 69 134 197 74 55 30 15 Newcastle 16 17 66 11 -- 23 54 24 39 25 Abergavenny and 13 85 102 50 22 21 22 30 26 10 Pontypool Merthyr Tydvil 9 54 160 91 10 3 18 16 12 -- Weymouth, Bridport, and 4 19 92 31 8 4 10 9 2 -- Beaminster Plymouth 10 15 11 14 37 48 9 8 1 -- Taunton -- 7 66 40 4 3 -- -- -- -- Leicester 43 5 3 2 3 3 9 21 5 15 Norwich 1 -- -- -- -- 17 180 204 10 7 Lynn etc. -- 1 2 10 7 4 127 81 6 -- Ipswich -- -- 2 6 38 95 23 -- 1 -- Bury St Edmunds 1 3 30 24 2 3 -- -- -- -- etc. Woodbridge etc. 4 9 27 16 5 11 10 2 -- 4

The epidemic having begun in the west and south-west in the summer of 1837, spread in the winter of 1837-38, all through the hills and valleys of Wales, causing high mortalities around Abergavenny, Pontypool, Merthyr Tydvil and other towns in the first quarter of 1838, as well as in the rural parishes. It was not until the end of 1838 that the contagion spread widely over the Eastern counties. The epidemic in Norwich was again short and sharp, like that of 1819, most of the 418 deaths falling within six months of winter and spring, just as most of the 530 deaths in 1819 fell within six months of summer and autumn. The population in 1821 was 50,288, and in 1841, 62,344; the increase was only 1228 between 1831 and 1841, so that the smallpox of 1839 fell upon a stationary population, whereas that of 1819 had fallen upon a rapidly increasing one. In the autumn of 1839 and throughout 1840, a second outburst of smallpox took place in the towns where the epidemic had started two years before, namely, Liverpool, Bath, Bristol, Clifton, etc[1159].

But the smallpox of 1840, which produced more deaths than that of 1839, was mostly centred in the Lancashire manufacturing towns, where also the mortality from scarlet fever was enormous. The circumstances of the working class in Lancashire at this time have been described in the chapter on fevers. The following shows the large proportion of smallpox deaths that fell in 1840 to the North-Western or Lancashire registration division.

Smallpox Deaths, 1840.

1st qr 2nd qr 3rd qr 4th qr

England and Wales 2071 2476 2274 3613 ------------------------------------------------------------ Of which in the N.-W. Division (Lancashire) 1046 986 533 590

The epidemic continued in the manufacturing towns into 1841; in the more rural registration divisions of England it had almost ceased in 1839. From the 1st July, 1837 (beginning of registration) until the 31st December, 1840, the epidemic smallpox in England and Wales caused 41,644 deaths. In 1838 it eclipsed both measles and scarlatina as a cause of death among children; but in 1840 scarlatina gained the leading place and kept it.

Legislation for Smallpox after the Epidemic of 1837-40.

The epidemic of smallpox in 1837-40, which was fatal chiefly to infants and young children, was one of the greatest, like the corresponding epidemic of typhus among adults, in the whole history of England. The troubles of the working class had been more or less chronic ever since the booming times of the Peninsular War had come to an end; the climax was reached in the thirties; the enormous sums spent upon railway construction gave a relief in the forties; and the permanent cheapening of food by Free Trade made an entirely new era, which became visible in the public health after the contagion of the Irish famine had ceased in 1848. The great and hitherto permanent decrease of typhus was brought about by social and economic causes. There, at least, laissez faire was all powerful: “Let us be saved,” said Burke, “from too much wisdom of our own, and we shall do tolerably well.” But there has been at no time since the 18th century the same passiveness towards smallpox; that is a disease against which we must always be doing something direct and pointed. The legislation against smallpox began in England (nothing was done for Ireland and Scotland until long after) with the Act of 1840.

It is a singular instance of the changes in medical opinion and of the vicissitudes of things that the first statute against smallpox should have been instigated by a desire to suppress the old inoculation. Parliament was first moved to action by the Medical Society of London through a petition presented by Lord Lansdowne; but things had been moving that way for some time before in the councils of the British (then the Provincial) Medical Association, under the influence of Dr Baron, the executor and biographer of Dr Edward Jenner. The Bill of 1840 was brought into the House of Lords by the second Lord Ellenborough, and conducted through the Commons by Sir James Graham, who was not then in office. It purposed to enable the poorer classes to get their children vaccinated, if they so desired, at the cost of the ratepayers, and to prohibit under penalties the practice of the old inoculation by amateurs or empirics. Blomfield, bishop of London, said in the Lords’ debate that many of the ignorant poor, in agricultural districts, were strongly prejudiced against inoculation with cowpox, and that they paid much greater attention to empirics, meaning inoculators by the old method, than to the advice of the clergy. In the Commons, Mr Wakley, who was a Radical and the proprietor of one of the weekly medical journals, declared that “no one could be ignorant that the working classes entertained great prejudices against vaccination,” although he did not explain why they were prejudiced. According to this medical authority, whom the House took seriously on that subject if on no other, the epidemic of smallpox which the country had just passed through had been in effect due to the contagiousness of the smallpox matter used in inoculating; and he succeeded in carrying an amendment to put down the old practice, not only in the hands of amateurs but also in those of medical men. The eighth clause of the Act decreed that any person convicted before two justices in Quarter Sessions of having wilfully procured the smallpox by inoculation shall be liable to a penalty of imprisonment for a term not exceeding one calendar month. The penal clause against the original inoculation was an indirect compliment to its vitality. Lord Lansdowne also paid it a compliment by recognizing the correctness of its principle; the rival inoculation-matter of cowpox, he said, was “perfectly identical” with smallpox, “although the symptoms were different.” This will be a convenient point in the history at which to review the rise and progress of the idea that the inoculation of smallpox was a wilful spreading of contagion and therefore a public nuisance.

The risk of spreading the contagion of smallpox by inoculating the disease was one of the objections to the practice raised by Wagstaffe in his letter to Dr Freind in 1722: “I have considered,” he says, “how destructive it may prove to spread a distemper that is contagious.” Still more explicit was Dr Douglass of Boston, New England, writing on 1 May, 1722: “I oppose this novel and dubious practice ... in that I reckon it a sin against society to propagate infection by this means, and bring on my neighbour a distemper which might prove fatal, and which, perhaps, he might escape (as many have done) in the ordinary way.... However, many of our clergy have got into it, and they scorn to retract[1160].” Within a few months there was a striking instance of the alleged danger in one of Maitland’s inoculations at Hertford, an inoculated child, with only twenty pustules, having been supposed the probable source of the natural smallpox in five domestics, of whom one died. The death of the Duchess of Bedford by the natural smallpox in 1724 happened “after two of her children were recovered of that distemper, which they both had by inoculation[1161].” That risk, however, was little made of in the controversy, although it may have been one of the tacit reasons that led to the total abandonment of inoculation during the ten or twelve years after 1728. On the revival of the practice after 1740, when the serjeant-surgeons, the physicians and the apothecaries were all making it a considerable part of their business among the richer classes, the danger from contagion was either non-existent or it was not realized. In 1754 the College of Physicians of London, by a formal minute, recommended inoculation as “highly salutary to the human race,” without one word of warning on the risk of contagiousness. That objection was raised again when Sutton’s practice in 1765-67 was drawing large crowds to be inoculated. He was put on his trial at the Chelmsford Summer Assizes in 1766 on a charge of spreading the contagion of smallpox, which was epidemic in the town; but the grand jury, charged by Lord Mansfield, threw out the bill. Sutton’s defence was to have been that he never brought into Chelmsford a patient capable of spreading the smallpox, that is to say, an inoculated person with smallpox enough on him to spread contagion[1162]. Shortly after came the controversy between Lettsom and Dimsdale as to inoculation of infants at their homes, which turned upon the risk of increasing the natural smallpox by a constant succession of artificial cases. Lettsom’s position was the same as Sutton’s, that the quantity of smallpox matter (he might have said the quality also) produced by inoculation was not sufficient to create an appreciable risk. As to the matter of fact, the quantity was indeed small: Sir William Watson declared that a single limb of an adult person in a moderate attack of the natural smallpox had as many pustules on it as all the seventy-four children, in one of his inoculations at the Foundling Hospital, had on their whole bodies. In the theory of contagion, an infinitesimal quantity is sufficient; but in reality it appears that contagion must be in excess to be effective, just as, in the nearest physiological analogy, fertilization seems to depend upon the copiousness of the pollen or seminal particles[1163].

The opposition to Lettsom’s project of general inoculations among the infants of the working classes in cities shows that the risk of contagion was made to serve at least an argumentative purpose. As to experience, Lettsom in 1778 declared that he knew no instance of contagion from that source during two years of inoculations among the poor of London[1164]. One writer of the time (1781) appealed boldly to the experience of sixty years: “Upon the first introduction of inoculation, physicians, divines, and innumerable other writers [who were they?] cried out that the infection would be spread, and the community suffer a greater loss; but after sixty years’ experience, we should expect those arguments, as well as the writers, had all died away, and that at this day the same stale dregs of ignorance and obstinacy would not be again retailed[1165].” The risk, however, was not altogether imaginary. Some cases of smallpox caught from the inoculated were known. In Vienna at that time the rule was to allow no inoculations except on groups of subjects isolated for the purpose. When Jenner, in 1798, enumerated the advantages of cowpox over smallpox for inoculation, in certain specified circumstances, one of his points was its non-contagiousness[1166].

The favourable reception of his project seems to have been determined more upon that point than upon any other. The theoretical risk of contagion from inoculated smallpox became at once an actual danger to the community when it was perceived that they had in “smallpox of the cow” a non-contagious variety. Jenner was not slow to use that growing sentiment so as to discredit the old practice. As early as 1802 he began to urge privately the statutory prohibition of smallpox for inoculation, and Wilberforce, among others, took the matter up publicly. The College of Physicians, having been asked by Parliament in 1807 to inquire into the causes that hindered the progress of Jenner’s inoculation, inserted the following paragraph in their report:

“Till vaccination becomes general, it will be impossible to prevent the constant recurrence of the natural smallpox by means of those who are inoculated, except it should appear proper to the Legislature to adopt, in its wisdom, some measure by which those who still, from terror or prejudice, prefer the smallpox to the vaccine disease, may in thus consulting the gratification of their own feelings, be prevented from doing mischief to their neighbours[1167].” The same year, in the court of King’s Bench, a medical practitioner was sentenced to fine and imprisonment for having neglected to prevent an inoculated person from communicating with others[1168].

Next year, 1808, a bill was brought into the House of Commons by Mr Fuller, with the following preamble: “Whereas the inoculation of persons for the disorder called the Smallpox, according to the old or Suttonian method, cannot be practised without the utmost danger of communicating and diffusing the infection, and thereby endangering, in a great degree, the lives of his Majesty’s subjects.”... This bill, which had clauses also for notification and compulsory isolation of smallpox cases, the churchwardens to be the authority, was not persevered with. The inoculators by the old method opposed it, and they were joined by Joseph Adams, who had been the first English writer to mention cowpox, in 1795, and had been a staunch vaccinist subsequently[1169]. In 1813 another attempt was made to restrict the practice of inoculating the smallpox on the ground of danger from its contagion, and to get cowpox substituted for it among the poorer classes. The Vaccine Board were the promoters, Lord Boringdon (afterwards Earl of Morley) having charge of the bill in the House of Lords. It was successfully opposed by the Lord Chancellor (Eldon) and by the Lord Chief Justice (Ellenborough), the latter contending that the common law was a better remedy than a statute against the nuisance of contagion from inoculated smallpox. Next year, 1814, Lord Boringdon brought in a new bill, which did not directly harass the inoculation interest, but made the rival method of cowpox obligatory upon the poor. Its provisions were ridiculed by Lord Stanhope, who got help from Lords Mulgrave and Redesdale to throw it out. Therewith ceased for many years the talk about the contagiousness of inoculated smallpox, together with the attempts in Parliament to enforce the rival inoculation. The next attempt, in 1840, was successful in making variolation a felony, and in throwing on the rates the cost of vaccinating the infants of the poorer classes. The danger of contagion from inoculated smallpox in 1840 was no greater than it had ever been, and it had never been appreciable among the things favouring an epidemic.

The common-law maxim, “sic utere tuo ut alienum non laedas,” which gained statutory force as against inoculation by the Act of 1840, was farther extended and specifically applied in the Act of 1853, which enforced the inoculation of cowpox upon all infants before they were three months old. Legislation, as we know, broadens down from precedent to precedent. Parliament in 1853 did not debate the preamble of the Bill, but accepted the principle established by the Act of 1840,--in the constructive sense that to leave infants without the inoculation of cowpox was, in effect, “to expose them so as to be infectious,” because they were sure to take smallpox, and so to become nuisances to others “unprotected” as well as (less obviously) to their cowpoxed neighbours.

Other effects of the epidemic of 1837-40 on medical opinion.

A second inoculation, except as a mere test of the first and within a few weeks thereof, was no part of the original 18th century teaching and practice. The theory of inoculation being based upon the familiar experience that we seldom have the same infectious disease twice in a lifetime, it was held that inoculation, if it were effective, was the giving of smallpox once for all, and that it could not really be given a second time unless the first inoculation had been ineffective. As soon as cowpox was recommended, it was remarked as a strange thing that this disease, according to current accounts of it, was actually acquired by milkers time after time. That fact in its natural history, said the Medical and Physical Journal of January, 1799, was “received with general scepticism merely on account of its improbability.” Dr Pearson was so troubled by the apparent inconsistency that he wrote to Dr Jenner in 1798 to ask whether it were really so; and although the latter confirmed the matter of fact, Pearson went on denying it, and did actually deny it as late as the Report of the Vaccine Pock Institution for 1803. Again, the report of the Whitehaven Dispensary for 1801, while it admitted the matter of fact, adverted to the anomaly in these words: “As we know from experience that the cowpock can be repeatedly introduced by inoculation, it appears remarkable that it can act as a preventive of a similar equally specific but more malignant disease.” Those were theoretical difficulties, which the practical minds of the profession did not stand upon. When we next hear of the possibility of having cowpox more than once, it is no longer an intellectual stumbling-block but is turned to account in the way of re-vaccination. Lapidem quem reprobaverunt aedificantes, hic factus est in caput anguli.

The practice of re-vaccination was usual on the Continent long before the English took to it. The reason of this was that a second inoculation of cowpox was not resorted to for the greater security of infants and young children, who were then the principal victims of smallpox in this country, but for the protection of adults, who made a great part of the subjects of the epidemics in other countries. There were so many adult deaths in the great Paris epidemic of 1825 that the news of it reads like the English references to smallpox in the time of the Stuarts. We obtain exact statistics of the ages in the 3323 fatal cases of smallpox in Paris from 1842 to 1851. Reduced to percentages they were as follows:

All ages 0-5 5-10 10-20 20-30 30-40 Over 40

100 33·8 5·9 13·25 32·95 10·95 3·15

Two-thirds of the deaths were above the age of five years, an age-incidence that was not reached in London until a whole generation after. The contrast with British experience comes out in concrete form in the following table of the age-incidence of 342 fatal attacks of smallpox in 1850 and 364 in 1851, in Paris (pop. 1,000,000), and of 584 fatal attacks in Glasgow in the single year 1852 (pop. 370,000)[1170]:

Age-incidence of fatal Smallpox in Paris and in Glasgow.

Paris, 1850-51 Glasgow, 1852 (706 deaths) (584 deaths)

Under one year 126 188 One to two 32 150 Two to five 94 189 Five to ten 31 20 Ten to fifteen 20 4 Fifteen to twenty 51 2 Twenty to twenty-five 109 19 Twenty-five to thirty 89 2 Thirty to forty 128 8 Forty to fifty 22 1 Over fifty 4 1

In other parts of the Continent of Europe the frequency of smallpox in adults was not less remarked than in France in the second quarter of the 19th century. English writers had been able at one time to point to foreign countries for the success of infantile vaccination. Sweden and Denmark were for a long time classical illustrations; then it was Germany’s turn. “In Berlin during 1821 and 1822,” said Roberton, “only one died of smallpox in each year. In the German States, vaccination has become universal, and in them as well as in various other countries the smallpox is almost unknown.” When we next find German experience appealed to, it is to enforce the need of re-vaccination: “In 1829,” said Gregory, “the principal Governments of Germany took alarm at the rapid increase of smallpox, and resorted to re-vaccination as a means of checking it. In Prussia, 300,000 had been re-vaccinated, and the same number in Würtemberg. In Berlin nearly all the inhabitants had undergone re-vaccination[1171].” It was about the same time that a second vaccination became obligatory in the armies of Prussia, Würtemberg, Baden and other German States, and among the pupils of schools when they reached the age of twelve years. Dr Gregory, in his speech at the Medical and Chirurgical Society of London in December, 1838, urged the need of re-vaccination not only by the example of Germany, but also by the experience of Copenhagen, where a thousand cases of smallpox had been received into the hospital (it was nearly always adults that were taken to the general hospitals) in twenty-one months of 1833-34, nine hundred of them being of vaccinated persons[1172]. Gregory was in advance of his age in advocating re-vaccination for England. His own cases at the Smallpox Hospital of London were, it is true, nearly all adults, according to the rules of the charity. But they were not representative even of the smallpox of the capital; and in England at large smallpox in 1839 was still distinctively a malady of the first years of life. It was not until youths and adults began to have smallpox in large numbers in the epidemic of 1871-72 that the doctrine of re-vaccination was generally apprehended in England. Medical truth, like every other kind of truth except that of geometry, is conditioned by time and place. What was a truth to the Germans in 1829 was not a truth to us until some forty years after. Dr Gregory, Sir Henry Holland and others advised re-vaccination after the epidemic of 1837-40; but as late as 1851 the National Vaccine Establishment denounced it as incorrect in theory and uncalled-for in practice.

* * * * *

After the great epidemic of 1837-40, there was an interval of a whole generation until smallpox broke out again on anything like the same scale, in 1871 and 1872. But it had risen to a considerable height at shorter intervals--in 1844-45, which were the years when vast numbers of navvies were employed making railroads all over England, in 1847 and successive years to 1852, which was the period of the great Irish migration after the potato-famine, in 1858, for which I find no explanation, and in the period from 1863 to 1865, which was again a time of somewhat high typhus mortality, not only in the Lancashire cotton-districts but also in London. The great epidemic of 1871 and 1872 finds no better explanation than our neighbourhood to Germany and Belgium, where the mortality from smallpox was far greater than in Britain, and was doubtless favoured by the state of war in 1870-71. The following tables for London, and for England and Wales in comparison with measles, scarlatina and diphtheria, show the progress of smallpox from the epidemic of 1837-40 to the present time:

Smallpox Deaths in London from the beginning of Registration.

Year Deaths

1837 (6 mo.) 763 1838 3817 1839 634 1840 1235 1841 1053 1842 360 1843 438 1844 1804 1845 909 1846 257 1847 255 1848 1620 1849 521 1850 499 1851 1062 1852 1150 1853 211 1854 694 1855 1039 1856 531 1857 156 1858 242 1859 1158 1860 898 1861 217 1862 366 1863 1996 1864 547 1865 640 1866 1391 1867 1345 1868 597 1869 275 1870 973 1871 7912 1872 1786 1873 113 1874 57 1875 46 1876 736 1877 2551 1878 1417 1879 450 1880 471 1882 430 1883 146 1884 898 1885 914 1886 5 1887 7 1888 5 1889 0 1890 3 1891 1 1892 11 1893 206

England and Wales: Deaths by Smallpox, Measles, Scarlatina and Diphtheria from the beginning of Registration.

Smallpox Measles Scarlet Fever Diphtheria

1837 (½) 5811 4732 2550 -- 1838 16268 6514 5862 -- 1839 9131 10937 10325 -- 1840 10434 9326 19816 -- 1841 6368 6894 14161 -- 1842 2715 8742 12807 -- 1847 4227 8690 14697 -- 1848 6903 6867 20501 -- 1849 4644 5458 13123 -- 1850 4665 7082 13371 -- 1851 6997 9370 13634 -- 1852 7320 5846 18887 -- 1853 3151 4895 15699 -- 1854 2868 9277 18528 -- 1855 2523 7354 16929 385 1856 2277 7124 13557 603 1857 3236 5969 12646 1583 1858 6460 9271 23711 6606 1859 3848 9548 19310 10184 1860 2749 9557 9681 5212 1861 1320 9055 9077 4517 1862 1638 9860 14834 4903 1863 5964 11340 30473 6507 1864 7684 8322 29700 5464 1865 6411 8562 7700 4145 1866 3029 10940 11683 3000 1867 2513 6588 12380 2600 1868 2052 11630 21912 3013 1869 1565 10309 27641 2606 1870 2620 7543 32543 2699 1871 23062 9293 18567 2525 1872 19022 8530 11922 2152 1873 2308 7403 13144 2531 1874 2084 12235 24922 3560 1875 849 6173 20469 3415 1876 2468 9971 16893 3151 1877 4278 9045 14456 2731 1878 1856 9765 18842 3498 1879 536 9185 17613 3053 1880 648 12328 17404 2810 1881 3698 7300 14275 3153 1882 1317 12711 13732 3992 1883 957 9329 12645 4218 1884 2216 11324 11143 5020 1885 2827 14495 6355 4471 1886 275 12013 5986 4098 1887 506 16765 7859 4443 1888 1026[1173] 9784 6378 4815 1889 23 14732 6698 5368 1890 16 12614 6974 5150 1891 49 12673 4959 5036 1892 431 13553 5618 6552 1893 1455 10764 6869 8918

The great epidemic of 1837-40 was the last in England which showed smallpox in its old colours. The disease returned once more as a great epidemic in 1871-72, after an interval of a whole generation (in which there had been, of course, a good deal of smallpox); but the epidemic of 1871-72 was different in several important respects from that of 1837-40. It was a more sudden explosion, destroying about the same number in two years (in a population increased between a third and a half) that the epidemic a generation earlier did in four years. It was an epidemic of the towns and the industrial counties, more than of the villages and the agricultural counties; it was an epidemic of London more than of the provinces; and it was an epidemic of young persons and adults more than of infants and children. The great epidemic of 1871-72 brought out clearly for the first time all those changes in the incidence of smallpox; but things had been moving slowly that way in the whole generation between 1840 and 1871. Experience subsequent to 1871-72 has shown the same tendency at work.

To begin with the changed incidence upon rural and urban populations, a glance down the following Table, will show that the counties marked *, with a smaller share in 1871-72, in a total of deaths in all England and Wales which was nearly the same as in the great epidemic a generation before, are nearly all those with a population more purely rural[1174]:

Incidence of the Smallpox Epidemics of 1837-40 (four years) and 1871-72 (two years) respectively upon the Counties of England and Wales.

1837-40 1871-72 England and Wales 41,253 42,084 Metropolis 6421 9698 *Surrey (extra-metr.) 383 231 *Kent (extra-metr.) 817 537 *Sussex 161 126 Hampshire 348 1103 *Berkshire 450 46 *Middlesex (extra-metr.) 418 306 *Hertfordshire 260 157 *Buckinghamshire 268 53 *Oxfordshire 199 109 Northamptonshire 399 563 *Huntingdonshire 65 14 Bedfordshire 125 128 *Cambridgeshire 400 175 *Essex 773 583 *Suffolk 506 348 *Norfolk 1038 895 *Wiltshire 548 85 *Dorsetshire 329 163 *Devonshire 1097 838 *Cornwall 767 531 *Somersetshire 1466 412 *Gloucestershire 1072 323 *Herefordshire 191 34 *Shropshire 345 161 *Worcestershire 1002 529 Staffordshire 1328 3050 *Warwickshire 957 785 Leicestershire 528 622 Rutlandshire 8 7 Lincolnshire 482 498 Nottinghamshire 562 983 *Derbyshire 329 297 *Cheshire 1141 310 †Lancashire 7105 4151 †Yorkshire W. Riding 2858 2609 " E. Riding 480 452 " N. Riding 236 405 Durham 798 4767 Northumberland 569 1512 *Cumberland 549 366 *Westmoreland 98 41 Monmouthshire 672 904 *Wales 2699 2314

The counties which were most lightly visited in 1871-72, as compared with 1837-40, were the agricultural and pastoral. In the outbreaks subsequent to 1871-72, smallpox has almost ceased to be a rural infection in Scotland and Ireland as well as in England. The great change that has come over it in that respect is shown in the following table, in which the annual death-rates from smallpox per 100,000 living are contrasted, for children under five, in each of several agricultural counties, with the mean of all England and of London, 1871-80, and with the corresponding scarlatinal death-rates in the right-hand column:

Annual Death-rates of Children under five, per 100,000 living, 1871-80.

Smallpox Scarlatina All England 53 349 London 113 307 ------------------------------------------- Sussex 9 100 Berkshire 4 141 Bucks 4 160 Oxfordshire 9 167 Huntingdonshire 3 205 Bedfordshire 11 242 Cambridgeshire 18 112 Suffolk 12 136 Wiltshire 5 210 Dorsetshire 15 152 Herefordshire 5 166 Shropshire 12 247

But the history of smallpox since the great epidemic of 1871-72 has brought out still another tendency in the same direction, namely, the increasing share of London in the whole smallpox of England. In the epidemic of 1837-40, which reached to almost every parish of England and Wales, London had 6449 deaths in a total of 41,644, or between a sixth and a seventh part, having rather less than an eighth part of the population. In the epidemic of 1871-72, London had between a fourth and a fifth part of the deaths (9698 in a total of 42,084), having then about a seventh part of the population. In 1877, more than half of all the smallpox deaths were in London, and in the year after as many as 1417 in a total of 1856. In 1881, London had about two-thirds of the deaths from smallpox in all England and Wales; but in the epidemic of 1884-85, it had only over a third part (1812 in a total of 5043). This excess of London’s share over that of the provinces is expressed in the following table, showing the respective rates of smallpox mortality per million of the population:

Smallpox Deaths in London and the Provinces, per million of population.

1847-9 1850-4 1855-9 1860-4 1865-9 1870-4 1875-9 1880-4

London 460 300 237 281 276 654 292 244 Provinces 274 271 192 175 172 339 48 34

If the table were continued to the very latest date, it would show the provinces recovering their share, but upon a slight prevalence of the epidemic as a whole, the deaths in London having been mere units from 1886 to 1892, while in 1888 there was a severe epidemic in Sheffield and in 1892-93 a good deal of the disease in a few manufacturing towns of the North-western and Midland divisions. It would be a not incorrect summary of the incidence of smallpox in Britain to say, that it first left the richer classes, then it left the villages, then it left the provincial towns to centre itself in the capital; at the same time it was leaving the age of infancy and childhood. Of course it did none of these things absolutely; but the movement in any one of those directions has been as obvious as in any other. Measles and scarlatina have not shown the same tendency to change or limit their incidence. Smallpox may have surprises in store for us; but, as it is an exotic infection, its peculiar behaviour may not unreasonably be taken to mean that it is dying out,--dying, as in the death of some individuals, gradually from the extremities to the heart.

With all those changes, the fatality of smallpox, or the proportion of deaths to attacks, came out in the great epidemic of 1871-72 curiously near that of the 18th century epidemics, namely, one death in about six cases. This rate comes from the hospitals of the Metropolitan Asylums Board according to the following table:

Admissions for Smallpox, with the Deaths, at the hospitals of the Metropolitan Asylums Board, from the opening of the several hospitals to 30 April, 1872.

Males Females Both Sexes Age-periods Percentage Percentage Percentage of of of Adm. Died deaths Adm. Died deaths Adm. Died deaths

Under 5 434 235 54·15 | 469 236 50·32 | 903 471 52·15 5-10 851 236 27·73 | 821 196 23·87 | 1672 432 25·83 10-20 2827 265 9·37 | 2513 237 9·43 | 5340 502 9·40 20-30 2561 465 18·15 | 1922 285 14·82 | 4483 750 16·72 30-40 939 244 26·00 | 665 136 20·45 | 1604 380 23·69 40-50 316 100 31·64 | 242 64 26·45 | 558 164 29·39 50-60 85 18 21·17 | 88 31 35·22 | 173 49 28·32 Above 60 40 8 20·00 | 35 7 20·00 | 75 15 20·00 --- --- | --- --- | --- --- 8053 1571 19·49 | 6755 1192 17·64 |14,803 2763 18·65

These admissions to hospitals included attacks of every degree of severity, the intention of the hospitals being to isolate all cases, mild and severe alike; so that, although these are technically hospital cases, they are not comparable to the select class admitted to the old Smallpox Hospital of London, but to the cases of smallpox in former times in the community at large. Although the general average of deaths in 14,808 cases, namely, 18·65 per cent., is nearly the same as (being slightly higher than) that of the equally comprehensive totals of 18th century cases given at p. 518, yet the average is made up in a different way. In some of the 18th century epidemics, such as that of Chester in 1774, all the deaths were under ten years of age, and yet the average rate of fatality was only 14 or 15 per cent. The much higher rate of fatality from birth to five years and from five years to ten in the London epidemic of 1871-72 (which is confirmed in part by the Berlin statistics of the same years), must have had some special reasons. One reason, doubtless, was that the attack of smallpox in recent times has fallen upon comparatively few children, whereas in former times it fell upon nearly the whole; and it may be inferred that the infants who have been in recent times subject to the attack of smallpox have also been of the class that are most likely to die of it. The high rates of fatality at the ages above thirty in the table agree with the experience of all times.

The percentages of fatalities from smallpox in the hospitals of the Metropolitan Asylums Board have varied as follows from their opening to the present time:

Percentage Cases of deaths

1 Dec. 1870-3 Feb. 1871 582 20·81 4 Feb. 1871-31 Jan. 1872 13,145 18·95 1872-3 2362 17·84 1873-4 191} 1874 (11 mo.) 120} 17·02 1875 111} 1876 2150 21·64 1877 6620 17·92 1878 4654 17·99 1879 1688 15·69 1880 2032 15·95 1881 8671 16·61 1882 1854 12·96 1883 626 16·06 1884 6567 15·98 1885 6344 15·8 1886 132} 1887 59} 1888 67} 14·28 1889 5} 1890 27} 1891 64} 1892 348 11·29 1893 2376 7·75

The decline in average fatality in the last two years is remarkable, and is to be explained chiefly by the mild type of smallpox which has been prevalent; a very small fraction of the patients attacked between the ages of ten and twenty-five have died; and these are some two-fifths of the whole. This is shown in the following age-table of 2374 cases admitted to the Metropolitan Board Hospitals in 1893:

Smallpox in London, 1893.

Age-period Cases Deaths %

0-5 168 53 31·5 5-10 191 16 8·3 10-15 230 7 3·0 15-20 340 7 2·0 20-25 393 13 3·3 25-30 298 23 7·7 30-35 250 14 5·6 35-40 182 13 7·1 40-50 199 18 9·0 50-60 79 9 11·4 60-70 35 6 17·1 70-80 9 1 11·1

The low rate of fatality during the slight epidemic revival of smallpox in 1892-93 has been found to obtain wherever the disease has occurred:

Smallpox in the Provinces, 1892-93.

Fatalities Cases Deaths per cent.

Birmingham 1203 96 8 Warrington 598 60 10 Halifax 513 44 8·5 Manchester 406 27 6·7 Glasgow 279 23 8·2 Liverpool 194 15 7·7 Brighouse 134 15 11·2 Aston Manor 113 6 5·3 Leicester 362 21 5·8 St Albans 58 6 10·4 ---- --- ---- 3860 313 8·10

The ages under ten years had only 290 in 3644 of these cases; but those 290 cases had 70 in 302 of the deaths.

In the comparative table for Ireland, of deaths by smallpox, measles, scarlatina and diphtheria, measles in a decreasing population has changed little, while scarlatina has declined greatly, and smallpox has fallen during the last ten years almost to extinction.

Ireland: Deaths by Smallpox, Measles, Scarlatina and Diphtheria from the beginning of Registration.

Smallpox Measles Scarlatina Diphtheria

1864 854 630 2605 661 1865 461 1036 3683 480 1866 194 851 3501 317 1867 21 1292 2145 189 1868 23 1251 2696 202 1869 20 948 2670 243 1870 32 954 2978 188 1871 665 547 2707 226 1872 3248 1380 2459 257 1873 504 1303 2092 326 1874 569 667 4034 565 1875 535 898 3845 443 1876 24 664 2112 368 1877 71 1562 1117 288 1878 873 2212 1079 296 1879 672 860 1688 320 1880 389 1025 1344 314 1881 72 402 1230 323 1882 129 1518 2443 385 1883 16 801 1765 239 1884 1 559 1377 354 1885 4 1323 1147 296 1886 2 284 850 336 1887 14 1307 973 381 1888 3 1935 849 447 1889 0 574 457 358 1890 0 726 319 346 1891 7 240 308 281 1892 0 1183 419 286

In the great Irish famine of 1846-49, comparatively little is heard of smallpox. It would appear to have been less diffused through the country than in former famines, such as that of 1817-18, or those of the first part of the 18th century, just in proportion as the vagrancy of famine-times was checked by the establishment of workhouses. In the workhouses and auxiliary workhouses during the ten years 1841-51, smallpox is credited with 5016 deaths, while measles has 8943, fever 34,644, dysentery 50,019, diarrhoea 20,507, and Asiatic cholera 6716. Registration began in Ireland in 1864, and showed little smallpox for the first few years. The next great epidemic, of 1871-72, showed the incidence upon the large towns, and the comparative immunity of the country population, even more strikingly than in England. In a total mortality of 3913 during the two years of 1871 and 1872, the three counties of Dublin, Cork and Antrim had the following enormous share, which fell mostly to the three cities of Dublin, Cork and Belfast:

Dublin Co. 1825 Cork Co. 1070 Antrim 510 ----- 3405 deaths in 3913 for all Ireland.

In that epidemic the whole province of Connaught had only 25 deaths from smallpox; but a subsequent visitation, a few years after, fell mainly upon Connaught.

The epidemic which began in Scotland in 1871 was distributed over a somewhat longer period than the corresponding outbreak in England; but the bulk of it fell in the two years 1871 and 1872. The total of 3890 deaths in those two years was distributed as follows:

Eight largest towns 2441 Next largest towns 259 Small town districts 574 Mainland rural districts 586 Insular rural districts 30 ---- 3890

Glasgow had a considerably smaller relative share than Edinburgh, and altogether a much lighter incidence of the disease than in the years 1835-52, for which the figures have been given above (pp. 600-1). In the following table of the annual deaths in Scotland from the beginning of registration, the four other infective diseases of childhood included along with smallpox show by comparison the remarkable decline of smallpox since 1874, scarlatina being the only other infection of childhood which has become greatly less common or less fatal.

Scotland. Deaths by Smallpox, Measles, Scarlatina, Diphtheria and Whooping-Cough, from the beginning of Registration.

Smallpox Measles Scarlatina Diphtheria Whooping-Cough

1855 1209 1180 2138 -- 1903 1856 1306 1033 3011 -- 2331 1857 845 1028 2235 76 1539 1858 332 1538 2671 294 1963 1859 682 975 3614 415 2660 1860 1495 1587 2927 480 1812 1861 766 971 1764 681 2204 1862 426 1404 1281 997 2799 1863 1646 2212 3413 1745 1649 1864 1741 1102 3411 1740 1993 1865 383 1195 2244 995 2318 1866 200 1038 2706 685 1860 1867 100 1341 2253 610 1728 1868 15 1149 3141 749 2490 1869 64 1670 4680 663 2461 1870 114 834 4356 630 1783 1871 1442 2057 2586 880 1504 1872 2448 925 2101 1045 2850 1873 1126 1450 2227 1203 1598 1874 1246 1103 6321 1163 1690 1875 76 1022 4720 867 2431 1876 39 1241 2364 861 2250 1877 38 1019 1374 956 1571 1878 4 1372 1870 1033 2788 1879 8 769 1592 862 2483 1880 10 1427 2165 838 2641 1881 19 1012 1573 816 1620 1882 3 1289 1583 961 2108 1883 11 1629 1336 747 2968 1884 14 1440 1266 830 2511 1885 39 1426 944 688 2157 1886 24 681 1058 583 1882 1887 17 1598 1179 805 3212 1888 3 1406 732 872 1722 1889 8 1948 701 968 2268 1890 0 2509 739 1018 3039 1891 0 1775 736 830 2437

The age-incidence of Smallpox in various periods of history.

Among the various changes of incidence that have attended the recent decline of smallpox in England, Ireland and Scotland, there is one that calls for more extended notice, namely, the fact that the malady has in great part ceased to be an infection of infancy and childhood and has become more distinctively an infection of adolescence and mature age. In no period of its history has smallpox been so purely an infantile complaint as measles[1175], nor so purely a malady of childhood and early youth as scarlatina or diphtheria[1176]. When it first rose to prominence in England, from the reign of James I. onwards, it attacked adults in a large proportion; of which fact the evidence, although not statistical, is sufficient. But, as the disease became nearly universal and ubiquitous, it was so commonly passed in infancy or childhood, that few grew to maturity without having had it. The number of adult cases diminished in proportion as the disease became more nearly universal. In the great period of smallpox in the 18th century, about nine-tenths of the deaths occurred under the age of five, and nearly all the remaining fraction between five and ten years, at Manchester, Chester, Warrington, Carlisle and Kilmarnock. But in London there were always a good many adult deaths, the reason commonly given being that there was a steady influx to the capital of domestic servants and others from country parishes where the epidemics came at sufficiently long intervals to let many children grow up without incurring the risk of it. Also at Geneva and the Hague, in the 18th century, there were many more deaths above the age of five than in the English provincial towns at the same time.

Ages at Death from Smallpox at Geneva (including Measles) and at the Hague (Duvillard).

All 0-1 -2 -3 -4 -5 -6 -7 -8 -9 -10 -15 -20 ages

Geneva (1700-83)} 3328 555 608 588 426 346 232 185 99 67 44 84 36

The Hague} (15 years} of } 1455 172 170 179 224 160 148 114 78 58 23 47 17 18th } cent.) }

-25 -30 -35 -40 -45

Geneva (1700-83)} 26 21 0 0 0

The Hague} (15 years} of } 24 14 10 8 3 18th } cent.) }

Twenty-four per cent. of the smallpox deaths in the 18th century at Geneva were above the age of five years, and at the Hague thirty-seven per cent., while in the former the ratio would probably have been higher but for the inclusion of measles. But, with this comparatively high ratio of deaths above the age of five, smallpox was a much less important cause of mortality at Geneva and the Hague than at Manchester, Glasgow, Chester, and most other provincial cities of this country, making about a fifteenth part of the deaths from all causes in the former, and as high as a sixth part in the latter.

The infantile character of smallpox was as marked as ever in the epidemic of 1817-19; of which the Norwich statistics are sufficient proof. As late as the epidemic of 1837-40, smallpox was still distinctively a malady of infants and young children in Britain, although that was by no means the case on the continent of Europe at the same time. The following was the age-incidence of fatal smallpox at Liverpool and Bath in the last six months of 1837.

At all Under Above ages 1 1-2 2-3 3-4 4-5 5-6 6-10 10

Liverpool Deaths 495 143 127 77 64 24 19 20 25 +------+ +------+ Ratios 100 28·65 25·45 15·43 17·63 7·81 5·01 per cent.

Bath Deaths 151 33 31 33 17 17 6 6 10 +------+ +-----+ Ratios 100 21·56 20·26 21·56 22·2 7·84 6·53 per cent.

In the third year of the epidemic, 1839, the ratio of deaths above the age of five was still less at Manchester, Liverpool and Birmingham, being only four and a half per cent. (26 in a total of 522). At Glasgow, from 1835 to 1839, twelve per cent. of the smallpox deaths were above the age of five (see p. 600). These are the rates of provincial cities; but in a total of 8714 deaths in the year 1839, added together from London and the provinces, about twenty-five per cent. were over five, and of these a moiety were over ten years:

All ages Under five Five to ten Above ten

8714 6453 1122 1139

A good deal of that mortality above the age of five must have come from London, according to the probability of the following table, which is of six years’ later date, but the nearest that can be got for London alone:

London, 1845. Ages at Death from Smallpox, Measles and Scarlatina.

Smallpox Measles Scarlatina Total at all ages 909 2318 1085 ----------------------------------------------------- Under One year 209 353 88 One to Two 133 832 167 Two to Three 91 511 181 Three to Four 81 272 183 Four to Five 63 153 115 Five to Ten 136 168 254 Ten to Fifteen 33 18 46 Fifteen to Twenty 34 3 14 Twenty to Twenty-five 54 1 8 Twenty-five to Thirty 38 2 6 Above Thirty 37 5 23

The ratio of smallpox deaths above five was 37·5 per cent., of measles deaths 8·4 per cent., and of scarlatina deaths 32·3 per cent. Measles and scarlatina have kept these ratios somewhat uniformly to the present time, but the ratio of smallpox deaths above the age of five has increased according to the following table for England and Wales from 1851 to 1890:

Percentage of Percentage of Percentage of smallpox deaths measles deaths scarlatina deaths Period above five years above five years above five years

1851-60 38 10 36 1861-70 46 8 36 1871-80 70 8 34 1881-90 77 8 36

The progressive raising of the age of fatal smallpox is shown in another way by taking the ratio of the deaths per million living at all ages and at each of eleven age-periods[1177]:

Smallpox Deaths per million living at each age-period.

Period All 75 and ages 0- 5- 10- 15- 20- 25- -35 -45 -55 -65 over

1851-60 221 1034 257 73 93 130 92 53 38 24 18 14 1861-70 163 654 145 56 86 136 102 73 49 36 26 22 1871-80 236 527 284 137 197 300 239 168 111 71 46 35

It was the great epidemic of 1871-72 that brought out the change of age-incidence most concretely, just as it brought out, in contrast to the last great epidemic in 1837-40, the decline in the rural and the increase in the industrial centres. In the three years before the outburst of 1871 the deaths under five and over five were approaching an equality; in the epidemic itself the old ratios were suddenly reversed:

Smallpox deaths Smallpox deaths Year under five over five

1868 1234 818 1869 892 673 1870 1245 1375 1871 7770 15356 1872 5758 13336

In the whole generation between 1840 and 1871, in which there was no great and general epidemic of smallpox, many had passed from childhood to adolescence and maturity without encountering the risk of it. When the epidemic of 1871 began, it found many in youth or mature years who had not been through the smallpox, and it attacked a certain proportion of them accordingly. The proportion above the age of five so attacked in 1871-72 was greater than it had been in this country since the beginning of the 18th century; indeed, as the information is not in statistical form for the earlier period, it may be asserted, and it may happen to be true, that it was greater than it had ever been in this country at any time. The reason for the large proportion of adult cases was the same in the rise of smallpox as in its decline, namely, that in the respective circumstances an epidemic found many who had not been through the disease in infancy or childhood. The same happened in those parts of the world where the epidemics of smallpox came at long intervals, during which many had passed from childhood to youth or mature age without once encountering the risk of smallpox.

Such were the epidemics at Boston, New England, and Charleston, South Carolina, in the 18th century. Not only do the accounts of them speak of the disease as if it were mainly one of the higher ages, but it follows from the ratio of attacks to population, known in the case of Boston, that adolescence and adult age must have had a full share, considering that these age-periods included all who were protected by a previous attack. The years of epidemic smallpox at Boston were 1702, 1721, 1730 and 1752: of these four the two worst were 1721 and 1752, the one epidemic following a clear interval of nineteen years, the other a more or less clear interval of twenty-two years:

Smallpox in Boston, Massachusetts[1178].

Population, Attacked Died Had Moved whites by of smallpox out and blacks smallpox smallpox before of town

1721 10,565 5989 844 All the -- rest less 750

1752 15,684 5545 569 5598 1843

These enormous mortalities in Boston were comparable to those of the old plague itself in European cities, not only in falling upon all ages but also in doubling or trebling for a single year at long intervals the annual average of deaths:

Deaths of Deaths of whites blacks Total

1701 146 -- 146 *1702 441 -- 441

1720 261 68 329 *1721 968 134 1102 1722 240 33 273

*1730 740 160 909 1731 318 90 408

*1752 893 116 1009

* Smallpox years.

Just as smallpox in its first great outbursts in the London of the Stuarts, or in its rare outbreaks in the American colonies in the 18th century, fell impartially upon children and adults, so in its last outbursts in the London of Victoria it fell upon persons at all ages. The notable thing is, not that smallpox should have of late been attacking adults, for that it has ever done except in times and places in which there were few or no adults who had not been through the disease in childhood; but that it should have ceased to so large an extent to attack infants and children. It has ceased to attack infants and children because other infective and non-infective diseases more appropriate to the modern conditions of the population are attacking them instead. These are measles and whooping-cough, scarlatina and diphtheria, infantile diarrhoea, and the more chronic after-effects of these. The annual death-rate from all diseases under the age of five has fluctuated somewhat per million living from 1837 to the present time, but it can hardly be said that it has fallen much or steadily[1179].

Keeping still to the epidemic of 1871-72, let us consider whether there was any natural or epidemiological reason for its cutting off a smaller ratio of infants and children in its whole mortality than that of 1837-40 did. There had been a most disastrous epidemic of scarlatina for three years just before, which had caused 21,912 deaths in 1868, 27,641 in 1869, and 32,543 in 1870, a total of 82,096 in three years, about two-thirds of which were under the age of five, or at the age-period which smallpox used to be fatal to almost exclusively and to be the greatest single epidemic scourge of. Even in the two smallpox years themselves the scarlatinal deaths were 18,567 and 11,922, of which the share that fell to children under five was one and a half times the deaths in that age-period from the co-existing smallpox. The three years of excessive scarlatina, before the epidemic of smallpox began, had removed large numbers of the class of infants and children who succumb to any infectious disease; if we cannot give the whole rationale of one infection dispossessing or anticipating another, we can at least understand that the earlier and more dominant infection takes off the likely subjects. What scarlatina did egregiously during the three years just before the great explosion of smallpox, it had been doing steadily (along with measles, &c.) throughout a whole generation since the last great sacrifice of infants and children by smallpox in 1837-40. But the fact that scarlatina had in great part dispossessed smallpox among the factors of mortality under the age of five, did not prevent the latter infection from attacking those of the higher ages who were susceptible of it and were at the same time unvexed by any other great epidemic malady proper to their time of life. If the epidemic of smallpox in 1871-72 had cut off as large a ratio under the age of five years as its immediate predecessor in 1837-40 did, its whole mortality would have been about 70,000 more than it actually was. But in no state of the population or of the public health can we suppose that three years of excessive mortality of children by one kind of contagion would be followed immediately by two years of equally special mortality at the same ages by contagion of another kind. It is not only epidemiological science that tells us this, but also common sense--est modus in rebus.

The saving of life by checking the prevalence of smallpox was a favourite rhetorical topic in the 18th century. Voltaire, La Condamine, Bernoulli, Watson, Haygarth and others, were fond of estimating how many thousands of lives might be saved in a year if inoculation were thoroughly carried out. Dr Lettsom, Sir Thomas Bernard and Mr James Neild, who were interested in prison reforms and in whatever else would reduce the prevalence of typhus, reckoned the possible saving of life under that head as almost equal to the possible saving from smallpox[1180]. For typhus there was no artificial means of restraint; it had to decline before natural causes, if it declined at all,--which, indeed, it has done. But no one at that time thought of keeping down smallpox except by the inoculation of itself or of cowpox. The economists and statisticians treated each of these artifices in its turn as a factor having a certain absolute value, which they might use like the a and b of a problem in algebra. This they did, of course, in deference to medical authority. What Bernoulli had worked out for the old inoculation, Duvillard did for the new, in his “Tables showing the Influence of Smallpox on the Mortality of each period of Life, and the Influence that such a preservative as Vaccine may have on the Population and on Longevity[1181].” Malthus fell into the conventional way of thinking when he assumed that smallpox alone among the epidemic checks of population was to be controlled artificially; but he introduced an important new consideration. “For my own part,” he wrote in 1803, “I feel not the slightest doubt, that if the introduction of the cowpox should extirpate the smallpox, and yet the number of marriages continue the same, we shall find a very perceptible difference in the increased mortality of some other diseases[1182].”

Five years after this was written, there came, in 1808, the disastrous epidemic of measles, which in Glasgow killed more infants in a few months than smallpox had ever done at its worst in the same city. In the winter of 1811-12 there was another severe epidemic of measles in Glasgow; and in 1813, Dr Watt, a leading physician of the place, and a man now famous in all countries for his vast labours as a bibliographer, gave to the world his statistical proof, from the Glasgow burial registers, of that law of substitution which Malthus had found necessary in his deduced principles.

“The first thing,” said Watt, “that strikes the mind in surveying the preceding Table (1783-1812), is the vast diminution in the proportion of deaths by the smallpox, a reduction from 19·55 to 3·90. But the increase in the subsequent column [measles] is still more remarkable, an increase from 0·95 to 10·76. In the smallpox we have the deaths reduced to nearly a fifth of what they were twenty-five years ago [in ratio of the deaths from all causes]; in the same period the deaths by measles have increased more than eleven times. This is a fact so striking that I am astonished it has not attracted the notice of older practitioners, who have had it in their power to compare the mortality by measles in former periods with what all of them must have experienced during the last five years[1183].”

The high ratio of measles and the low ratio of smallpox did not remain as Watt’s researches left them. When Cowan resumed the tabulation of figures from 1835 to 1839 he found the ratios of those two infantile infections almost equal, and the two together contributing to the whole mortality of Glasgow only a little more than half their joint share in the end of the 18th century. The substitution which Watt saw during a few years was only the most dramatic part of a general movement forwards of measles among the causes of infantile mortality. He supposed, as everyone did at that time, that smallpox was forcibly repressed, and that another infectious disease had seized the opportunity to become exuberant. The most relevant thing in the whole situation was urged by those who thought, with Jenner, that the doctrine of substitution had an “evil tendency” as detracting from the absolute value of the inoculation principle. In order to discredit Dr Watt altogether, they pointed out that his ratios of smallpox and measles took no account of the diminished death-rate of Glasgow by all diseases in the earlier years of the 19th century.

Great changes were proceeding in the old city, the Glasgow of ‘Rob Roy.’ The population which was reckoned at 45,889 in the year 1785, had increased to 66,578 in the year 1791, and thereafter, at a slower rate, to 83,769 in 1801 and to 100,749 in 1811. The first great increase after the American War meant overcrowding; but in a short time new suburbs spread over such an extent that, in the year 1798, more than half the burials were in the graveyards attached to chapels-of-ease and meeting-houses outside the original parishes. The modern expansion of Glasgow, like that of London and of all other large cities, has been an increase of area still more than an increase of numbers. The public health improved steadily, at all events until 1817, the improvement being shown first in the increasing number of infants that survived their second year. That rise in the probability of life corresponded to the substitution of measles for smallpox, and in part depended upon the ascendancy of the milder infection. Still more remarkable was the rise of scarlatina, which Dr Watt did not live to see; so little was made of it at the date of his writing that he found “scarlatina, typhus, &c., all comprehended under the same head.” The seeds of measles and scarlatina had long existed beside the seeds of smallpox, but the ascendancy of each of the two former had to wait events. Said Banquo to the witches who hailed Macbeth as king and himself as the sire of later kings:

“If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow, and which will not--”

The succession of reigning infections is the same problem. All we can say is that each new predominant type is somehow suited to the changed conditions. In the long period covered by this history we have seen much coming and going among the epidemic infections, in some cases a dramatic and abrupt entrance or exit, in other cases a gradual and unperceived substitution. Some of the greatest of those changes have fallen within the two hundred years since Sydenham kept notes of the prevalent epidemics of London. We are that posterity, or a generation of it, which he expected would have its own proper experiences of epidemics and at the same time would know all that had passed meanwhile--“posteris quibus integrum epidemicorum curriculum venientibus annis sibi invicem succedentium intueri dabitur.”