Title: The Sweating Sickness in England
Author: Webb, Francis C.
Language: English
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  THE
  SWEATING SICKNESS
  IN ENGLAND.

  BY
  FRANCIS C. WEBB, M.D., F.S.A.,

  PHYSICIAN TO THE MARGARET STREET DISPENSARY FOR
  CONSUMPTION, ETC.

  _Reprinted from_ THE SANITARY REVIEW AND JOURNAL OF PUBLIC HEALTH,
  _for July 1857_.

  LONDON:
  PRINTED BY T. RICHARDS, 37 GREAT QUEEN STREET.

  M.DCCC.LVII.



THE SWEATING SICKNESS IN ENGLAND.[A]


There are few subjects which exhibit more points of interest to the
epidemiologist and medical historian, than that series of epidemics,
of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, which went by the name of
English Sweating Sicknesses. We are chiefly indebted to a learned
German professor, Dr. Hecker, and to his translator Dr. Babington, for
the acquaintance we in the present day have with these events; and
we would here observe that, in whatever light we may view Professor
Hecker’s deductions and theories, there can be but one opinion as to
his faithfulness and diligence as a medical historian. As his work,
however, is published by a society, and is therefore of somewhat
limited circulation, we have thought a short historical sketch,
embodying, and in some instances slightly amplifying, Professor
Hecker’s researches on the subject of the ravages of the disease in
England, might not be uninteresting to our readers; who will then be in
a position to follow us on some future occasion in a discussion of the
nature of a malady, which five times within a hundred years devastated
our island, and once, and once only, spread its ravages amongst the
Teutonic races on the continent of Europe.

We may preface our historical _resumé_ by noticing that the disease,
in the form in which it then presented itself, was unknown before the
year 1485, and that it has never reappeared since its last outbreak, in
1551. Its novelty gave it one of its appellations; it was called by the
common people the “new acquaintance”; whilst its limitation to British
soil gained for it on the continent the names of the King of England’s
Sickness, the English Sweating Sickness, _Sudor Britannicus_.

Characterised by the suddenness of its seizure, by its short and
defined course of twenty-four hours, by its great fatality, by the
profuse and fetid perspiration in which the patient was bathed, and
from which the disease derived its most common name, by the frequency
with which it attacked the same individual several times within a short
period, or perhaps, we should more correctly say, by its relapsing
tendency, by its selection of strong and robust men in the prime of
life as its victims, by the equality with which it invaded the palaces
of the rich and the cottages of the poor, we cannot wonder at its
producing a marked effect on the national mind, and being long held
in remembrance. Even as late as the days of the great rebellion,
occasional references may be found to it in popular sermons and
treatises; whereas we might have supposed its memory would have been
effaced by the frequent outbreaks of plague which had intervened. The
sweating sickness has come down to us as the remarkable epidemic of a
remarkable age. In an era distinguished by the emancipation of thought,
by the spread of letters, by the splendours of a social and religious
reformation, death appeared in a new garb, and in unwonted tones
asserted his dominion.

It has been a frequent observation, that epidemic diseases have had
their origin in camps; and it is perfectly needless here to remind the
reader of instances. Such will present themselves to every student of
history. The English sweat is stated by Caius to have first appeared
in the army of the Earl of Richmond, shortly after their landing; and
doubtless they were predisposed by the circumstances of the expedition,
by their confinement during their voyage in close, dirty ships, and
especially by their previous habits (for they are described by Philip
de Comines as recruited from the loosest and most profligate class in
Normandy), to suffer from any disease. But it is perfectly clear that,
granting the distemper to have first appeared in the invading force,
it was not long limited to it. It must quickly have spread amongst
the population; as we learn from the _Historia Croylandensis_ that, a
few days after the landing of the earl, Lord Stanley excused himself
from joining Richard III, by alleging that he was attacked by the new
disease, he being then at his seat in Lancashire. A mere excuse, no
doubt; but such as would not have been urged had not the progress of
the epidemic rendered it possibly true. We likewise have proof that a
fatal disease reigned at the time in York, although we lack information
as to its precise nature. On the 16th of August, 1485, it was
determined in the town council to send a messenger to King Richard with
the offer of a force “for subduing of his enemies lately arrived in the
partes of Wales”. “Also it was determyned that all such aldermen and
other of the counsail as was sojournyng, for the plage that reigneth,
without the citie, should be sent for to give their best advises in
such things as concerned the wele and savegard of the said citie, and
all other inhabitants of the same” (Drake’s _Eboracum_, b. i, p. 120).
It is moreover remarkable, that, although the circumstances of the
march of Richmond’s army, and of its final struggle and victory, have
come down to us with tolerable minuteness, no mention, as far as we
are aware, is made by the chroniclers of any pestilence tracking their
course. The battle was fought on the 22nd of August; and before the end
of that month the epidemic appeared at Oxford, a town through which the
army is not reported to have passed, and which, devoted to learning,
may be supposed to have suffered less from military occupation than
other places.

Whilst, however, the assertion that the malady commenced amongst the
soldiery of the Earl of Richmond rests principally on the authority of
Dr. Caius, who wrote his account three-quarters of a century after the
event, yet, in the lack of other evidence, we believe we must receive
it. Caius was evidently aware of the interest and importance of his
subject, and would scarcely have hazarded such a statement had he
not been assured of its truth. On the other hand, it is a groundless
assumption to claim for the sweating sickness a foreign origin. No
such disease had appeared in Normandy, Brittany, or elsewhere on the
continent; and there is no reason for supposing other causes present to
produce the first epidemic of 1485, than those which resulted in the
outbreak of 1551, when it commenced at Shrewsbury, and importation
from abroad was simply out of the question.

It was on the evening of the 1st of August, 1485, that the sails of
Henry’s little fleet were furled in the harbour of Milford Haven.
They had accomplished the passage from Harfleur in seven days. The
soldiers landed with promptitude, in the neighbourhood of the village
of Dale, on the western side of the bay, and there encamped for the
night. At sunrise the next morning they removed to Haverfordwest, a
march of something less than ten miles. Here, reinforced by the men of
Pembrokeshire, they proceeded to Cardigan, where they were joined by
forces under Richard Griffith and John Morgan. Crossing the Severn,
they entered Shrewsbury, where they were again augmented by a goodly
band of Welshmen under Rice ap Thomas. The night before they entered
the town, the army was encamped on Forton or Fortune Heath (to the west
of Shrewsbury, near the river). They then marched to Newport, and the
earl pitched his camp on a little hill adjoining, where he stopped a
night. Here he was joined by the power of the young Earl of Shrewsbury,
under George Talbot. He next halted at the town of Stafford, and thence
marched on Lichfield, where his army bivouacked outside the walls. From
this place they removed to Tamworth, their last halting-place before
the great battle which decided the fate of England, and placed her
crown on Henry’s brow.

Three weeks were occupied in the march, and their road lay chiefly
through a mountainous country, not, as far as we are aware, more likely
to give origin to malarious influence than other parts of the island.
Yet the halt of the army at Shrewsbury, the place at which the last
outbreak of the “gret dethe and hasty” undoubtedly commenced; the
passage of the river Severn, which in the year 1483, overflowing its
banks, had inundated the whole of the surrounding country; and the
encampment on the low marshy ground outside the walls of the city of
Lichfield, are especially worthy of remark.

Fortune and victory sat on Henry’s helm. Disbanding his army,
he advanced by easy stages to London, greeted as he went by the
acclamations of the populace. All things seemed to promise a

          “harvest of perpetual peace,
  By this one bloody trial of sharp war”,

when “sodenly”, to use the graphic words of an old chronicler, “a newe
kynde of sicknes came through the whole region, which was so sore, so
peynfull, and sharp, that the lyke was neuer harde of to any mannes
remembraunce before that tyme: For sodenly a dedly and burnyng sweate
inuaded their bodyes and vexed their bloud with a most ardent heat,
infested the stomack and the head greuously: by the tormentyng and
vexacion of which sicknes, men were so sore handled and so painfully
pangued that if they were layed in their bed, beyng not hable to suffre
the importunate heat, they cast away the shetes and all the clothes
liyng on the bed. If they were in their apparell and vestures, they
would put of all their garmentes, euen to their shirtes. Other were so
drye that they dranke the colde water to quenche their importune heate
and insaciable thirst. Other that could or at the least woulde abyde
the heate and styntche (for in dede the sweate had a great and a strong
sauoure) caused clothes to be layed upon theim asmuch as they coulde
beare, to dryue oute the sweate if it might be. All in maner assone as
the sweate toke them, or within a short space after, yelded vp their
ghost. So that of all them that sickened ther was not one emongest an
hundreth that escaped.”

Consternation and affright reigned everywhere. “Some”, says Caius,
were “immediatly killed in opening theire windowes, some in plaieng
with children in their strete dores, some in one hour, many in two it
destroyed, and at the longest, to them that merilye dined, it gaue a
sorowful Supper. As it founde them so it toke them, some in sleape some
in wake, some in mirthe some in care, some fasting and some ful, some
busy and some idle, and in one house sometyme three sometyme fiue,
sometyme seuen sometyme eyght, sometyme more sometyme all, of the
whyche, if the haulfe in euerye Towne escaped, it was thoughte great
fauour.” Numbers were seen rushing from their houses in a state of
nudity, hoping to cool their burning torments. The general joy which
the victory of Bosworth had inspired was changed into despondence and
evil augury. With grim humour, the people exclaimed that the new reign
must needs be one of labour, since it began with a sickness of sweat.

It was about the end of the month of August that the disease appeared
at Oxford. Here, according to Anthony-à-Wood, it raged with violence
for the space of six weeks, killing most of the students, or banishing
them from the university. It would seem that it did not reach London
until some days later. Several chroniclers state that the 21st of
September was the date of its outbreak; yet, as Hecker suggests, it
is probable that cases may have occurred before that time, although
its virulence was not until then manifested. However this may be,
it continued in the city until towards the end of October, but had
sufficiently subsided to permit the coronation of Henry on the 30th of
that month. During the time that the epidemic was at its height, the
mortality was prodigious. On the 11th of October, the mayor, Thomas
Hill, died; he was succeeded by Sir William Stokker, knight, who before
eight days was also carried off. It was also fatal to several of the
aldermen. Grafton says six; Stow enumerates four. The higher classes
could claim no immunity from the common enemy. Many of the aristocracy,
both secular and clerical, fell its victims. It is noticeable that this
was the case in each succeeding epidemic.

From London and the eastern part of the kingdom, it spread to the
western and southern districts, and did not wholly disappear until
December. In this time it had invaded almost the whole kingdom--every
town and village, says Grafton--but without crossing the Scottish
border, or being conveyed to the sister kingdom of Ireland.

From the Croyland Annals, we learn that it carried off the excellent
Abbot Lambert Fossdyke, after eighteen hours sickness. This is stated
to have taken place on the 14th of November, although the writer in
another place alters the date to the 14th of October; and we think
the latter more probable, as, whilst we do not deny that the disease
lingered, as Wood says, in some places until December, we should be
inclined to suppose that the fury of the epidemic had in November and
December partially subsided, and deaths consequently become rare. To
this circumstance we are inclined in some degree to attribute the
efficacy ascribed to the Anglican mode of treatment. But on this point
we hope to touch hereafter.

Facts are wanting to give a minute topographical or numerical account
of its ravages. Baines says that it prevailed in Lancashire; but he
furnishes no particulars. We can only infer from general testimony the
universality and magnitude of the evil. Its disappearance may have
been consummated by a violent storm of wind, which prevailed on the
1st of the following January. For twenty-one years from this date, we
read no more in English annals of a return of the “fereful tyme of the
sweate.”[B]

The kingdom was only recovering from the tremendous invasion of plague,
which in 1499 carried off, it is said, in London alone 30,000 persons,
and cessation from civil contention and foreign warfare promised
increase and prosperity to her population, when, in the summer of 1506,
the old enemy again started into existence. This epidemic appears
generally to have been of a milder type, and deaths were in most
places unfrequent. We know little as to its origin or spread. As in
the close of the first epidemic, the lessened mortality was ascribed
rather to the effects of treatment than to any temporary diminution in
the virulence of the disorder. One record has come down to us, which is
sufficient of itself to show that, under favouring circumstances, the
“new acquaintance” of 1506 was capable of being developed in all its
ancient severity. In the Annals of Chester (Harl. MSS. No. 2125), we
are told that in 1506 there died in one day, of the sweating sickness,
three score and eleven householders, of whom only four or five were
women. Another account says, that in three days there died ninety-one
householders, four only being widows. It matters not which is correct;
either is sufficient to prove that no real change had occurred in the
nature of the sweating sickness. It lingered until the autumn, and then
disappeared. Lysons and Hemmingways make the outbreak at Chester to
have occurred in 1507; but Pennant, more correctly, as it appears to
us, follows the date of 1506, given in the Chester Annals.

Eleven years elapsed, the crafty Richmond slept the sleep of death in
the “sumpteous and solempne chapell which he had caused to be buylded”,
and his son reigned in his stead. Unexpectedly, in July 1517, the
pestilence again raised its head. We believe that this sweat was the
most fatal in its results of any of the series. The dismal scenes of
the first epidemic were repeated. It “killed some within three hours”,
say the chroniclers, “some within two hours, some merry at dinner and
dead at supper.” “In some one town half the people died, in some other
town the third part, the sweat was so fervent and the infection so
great.”

We learn incidentally, from a letter written by the Cardinal du
Bellay, who was ambassador from France to Henry VIII, and himself a
sufferer in the next epidemic of 1528, that it was estimated that
10,000 persons died in ten or twelve days. The context warrants us
in the supposition that reference is made here to the metropolis
alone. Taking this as a mere approximation, we shall at once see, by
comparing it with the ravages of other epidemics, how frightful the
mortality whilst it lasted was. In 1854, the total number of deaths
from cholera and diarrhœa in London, extending over a period of six
months, with a population of 2,517,048, was 14,806. The epidemic was
at its height during the first fourteen days of September, when 4,371
persons were carried off. The mortality in the epidemic of 1849 was
somewhat greater, viz. 18,036, the period again extending over several
months. Even in the great plague year, 1665, when 68,590 persons died
in London, and the city was nearly abandoned, the mortality never
rose higher than 7,165 in a week; this number being reached in the
third week of September. The population of the metropolis in 1676, is
estimated in Graunt’s Bills of Mortality at 384,000; consequently, in
the year 1517, it must have fallen far short of 300,000. Making every
allowance for exaggeration, supposing only one-half the number stated
to have died in the time specified, the mortality for that time, taking
into account the amount of population, must have been as great as in
the worst irruption of bubo plague, and so appalling that, in the
present day, we can form but a faint idea of it.

Rich and poor were equally victims. Rank claimed for its possessor
no exemption; poverty was no shield. The deserted palace no longer
echoed the sounds of mirth; the low wail of the mourner interrupted
the silence of the streets. Henry VIII, a prince who, like Leviathan
in the deep, seemed to consider the earth as merely formed to take his
pastime therein, leaving the city, retreated with a few followers from
place to place before the advancing waves of pestilence. His Court
had been the seat of its triumphs. His private secretary, the learned
Italian, Ammonius of Lucca, died a few hours after he had boasted to
Sir Thomas More that by abstinence and regimen he had shielded himself
and family. The Lord Grey of Wilton, the Lord Clinton, and many other
of his knights, gentlemen, and officers, were no more. Michaelmas and
Christmas passed without their usual festivities. No gathering of
people was permitted, for fear of infection. Oxford and Cambridge,
crowded with eager students, amongst whom were already germinating
seeds which produced the Reformation, were again attacked, and the
former was again deserted. The sweat continued until the middle of
December; and its horrors were heightened by the supervention towards
the winter of plague. In Chester the mortality from the combined
diseases was so great, that grass grew a foot high at the town cross.
England, again, with one remarkable exception, was _alone_ the land of
the shadow of death. The pestilence passed over to the town of Calais,
at that period belonging to the British Crown. But here it is said to
have attacked principally the English inhabitants; and we know that it
not only did not spread through France, but (from a reliable source)
that it did not even reach to Graveling.

It must have been during one of these earlier irruptions of the
sweating disease, that a Latin prayer was composed, of which a copy
has been preserved. It is addressed “ad beatum Henricum,” either Henry
the Emperor, who with his wife Cunegunde, were saints of the Romish
calendar, or Henry VI. of that name is intended, who was claimed
as uncle by Henry VII., and who, his piety having nearly procured
him canonization, was highly revered by the people. In it occurs the
petition so characteristic of the period:--

  “Non sudore,
  Vel dolore,
  Moriamur subito.”

The whole is to be found in the _Gent. Mag._ for 1786, p. 747.

1528. We have now arrived at the fourth irruption of the disease, and
fortunately can present a more detailed account of the historical
facts connected with it, than we have been enabled to do whilst
glancing at the three former epidemics. In this we shall necessarily
correct a slight error into which Professor Hecker, from the paucity
of his materials, has fallen. Although the mortality was not equal
in magnitude to that of 1517, yet the influence was widely felt, the
disease was distinguished by the same characteristics, and the deaths
were quite numerous enough to be placed in comparison with those
occurring in ordinary epidemic visitations. From the circumstance that
the disease was again particularly rife in the Court, we have found
many references to it in letters published under the Royal Commission
in the “State Papers,” and in similar collections. We propose
illustrating our account with such extracts from these as may serve to
bring before the reader a more definite picture of the prevailing state
of things.

Hecker, following Grafton, states that the disease first appeared
towards the end of May, in the most populous part of the city of
London. This was not the case. Before its influence was felt in the
capital, which was not until the 14th of June, it had been rife in the
north. For Sir William Parre, writing to Wolsey, on the 31st of May,
informs him that the Duke of Richmond had on account of its prevalence
removed to Ledeston, in Yorkshire, three miles from Pontefract. It
was brought out of Sussex into London, as we learn incidentally from
an unpublished letter in the Cottonian Collection. We may therefore
conclude that it had widely spread in the country districts during
the latter part of May and the first weeks of June. Oxford, as usual,
suffered severely. The rapidity with which it flew from district to
district, and from town to town, obtained for it in 1551 the quaint
name of the “posting sweat.” A most graphic picture of the commencement
of the epidemic in the metropolis, is given by the Cardinal du Bellay.
We are indebted to Mr. Halliwell for the publication of this most
interesting document, which forms part of the treasures contained in
the Imperial Library of Paris. From it we shall now give our readers
some extracts. The Cardinal’s letter is dated London, June 18, 1528; he
writes:--

“One of the filles de chambre of Mademoiselle de Boulen was attacked
on Tuesday by the sweating sickness. The king left in great haste, and
went a dozen miles off: but it is denied that the lady Anne Boleyn was
sent away as suspected, to her brother the Viscount, who is in Kent.
This disease, which broke out here four days ago, is the easiest in the
world to die of. You have a slight pain in the head, and at the heart;
all at once you begin to sweat. There is no need for a physician; for
if you uncover yourself the least in the world, or cover yourself
a little too much, you are taken off without languishing, as those
dreadful fevers make you do. But it is no great thing, for during
the time specified, about two thousand only have been attacked by it
in London. Yesterday, having gone to swear the truce, they might be
seen, as thick as flies, hurrying out of the streets and the shops
into the houses, to take the sweat the instant they were seized by the
distemper. I found the ambassador of Milan leaving his quarters in
great haste, because two or three had been attacked by it.”

       *       *       *       *       *

“But to return to London. I assure you that the priests there have a
better time of it than the physicians, except that there is not enough
of them to bury the dead. If the thing lasts, corn will be cheap.
Twelve years ago, when the same thing happened, 10,000 persons died
in ten or twelve days, it is said, but it was not so sharp as it is
now beginning to be. M. the legate (Cardinal Wolsey), had come for
the term; but he soon had his horses saddled again, and there will be
neither assignation nor term. Everybody is terribly alarmed.” This is
confirmed by Stow. The term was adjourned to Michaelmas.

From this account we see that at its first onset in London it seemed
probable that the epidemic would be as fatal as its predecessor. This
expectation was not realized. The mortality seems to have been unequal
at different times during the same visitation. It did not gradually
increase, as in the plague, to its maximum, and then as gradually
diminish, but probably was never more fatal than at its first onset.

Henry’s first retreat was Waltham in Essex, from which however he was
speedily driven, by the seizure of the treasurer, two of the court
ushers, and two of his valets de chambre. He immediately retired to
Hunsdon in Hertfordshire, where he arrived on the 21st of June. News
here reached him that Anne Boleyn, who had already become the object of
his passion, was attacked by the disease. The occasion of this illness
produced one of that remarkable series of love-letters, which have
since become so celebrated, and the originals of which are preserved at
Rome. In it he deplores her illness, states he would gladly bear half
of it to have her cured, and regrets that he cannot send her his first
physician, who was absent, but that in default of him he sends the
second, “and the only one left, praying God that he may soon make you
well, and then I shall love him more than ever.” Happy indeed would it
have been for the ill-fated Anne had the dart penetrated more deeply.
The scene enacted in the “doleful prison in the Tower”, on the 19th of
May, 1536, would not then have disgraced the history of the English
monarchy, and the escutcheon of the Tudor would have been spared one of
its deepest stains!

The next document of any importance, in which we find reference to
our subject, is a letter written by Brian (afterwards Sir Brian Tuke)
to Cardinal Wolsey; and, risking the charge of prolixity, we cannot
refrain from extracting from it a passage or two, as it exhibited bluff
King Hal in the novel character of a medical adviser. Tuke dates from
Hunsdon, June 23rd, 1528; and, in relating to Wolsey the particulars of
a private interview he had with the King, respecting a letter he had
received from the Cardinal, he thus writes:--“I red forthe til it camme
to the latter ende, mencionyng Your Graces good comfort and counsail
geven to His Highnes, for avoiding this infeccion, for the whiche the
same, with a most cordial maner, thanked Your Grace: and shewing me,
firste, a great proces of the maner of that infeccion; howe folkes wer
taken; howe litel dangeir was in it, if good ordre be observed; howe
fewe wer ded of it; howe Mastres Anne, and my Lorde of Rocheforde,
bothe have had it; what jeopardie they have ben in, by retournyng in
of the swet bifore the tyme; of the endevour of Mr. Buttes who hathe
ben with them, and is retourned; with many other thinges touching those
matiers, and finally of their perfite recovery; His Highnes willed me
to write unto Your Grace, most hertily desiring the same, above al
other thinges, to kepe Your Grace oute of al ayre, where any of that
infeccion is, and that if, in on place any on fal sike thereof, that
Your Grace incontinently do remove to a clene place; and so, in like
cace, from that place to an other, and with a small and clene company:
saying, that this is the thing, whereby His Highnes hathe pourged his
house, having the same nowe, thanked be God, clene. And over that, His
Highnes desireth Your Grace to use smal sowpers, and to drink litel
wyne, namely that is big, and ons in the weke to use the pilles of
Rasis; and if it comme in any wise, to swete moderately the ful tyme,
without suffering it to renne in; whiche by Your Graces phisicians,
with a possetale, having certein herbes clarified in it, shal facilly,
if nede be, be provoked and contynued; with more good holsom counsail
by His Highnes in most tender and loving maner geven to Your Grace,
then my symple wit can suffise to reherse; whiche his gracious
commaundement, I said, I wolde accomplish accordingly.”

In the after part of his letter he informs the Cardinal that news had
just arrived that Mr. Cary, whom he had shortly before met on his way
to hunt, was “ded of the swet.” “Our Lorde have mercy on his soule, and
holde his hande over us.” Proposing to join Wolsey, he tells him he
dare not come through London, “wherfore I wol cost to the water side,
and comme the rest by water, thorough London Bridge; though I promyse
Your Grace there is non erthely riches shoulde cause me to travaile
muche nowe, considering that the phisicians tel me ther is nothing,
that more stirreth the mater and cause of the swet then moche traveil,
and likewise commyng in the son.”

In the city the ancient solemnity of the procession of the watch,
on Midsummer eve, was discontinued, for fear of adding fuel to the
spreading flame by collecting the populace: whilst the King removed to
Hertford, at which place he was “moche troubled,” for on the night of
the 26th, there fell sick the Marquess and Marchioness of Dorset, Sir
Thomas Cheney, Mistress Croke, Master Norris, and Master Wallop; who
all, however, recovered; and Sir Francis Poyntz, who, says the writer
of the letter we are quoting, “is departed, whiche Jhesu pardon.” On
these occurrences taking place, the King fled to Bishop’s Hatfield in
Hertfordshire.

On the 29th, we find Wolsey removing to Hampton Court, on account
of the “vehement infection and sykenes, that ys fallen amonges his
Graces folkes.” Du Bellay’s next letter, we shall see, gives a rather
ludicrous account of the precipitate retreat of the “great child of
honour,” who, as all know from Cavendish, was dreadfully afraid of
contagion, and used to carry with him an orange, stuffed with sponge
steeped in vinegar and confections, against pestilent airs, the which
he commonly held to his nose when he came to the presses, or when he
was pestered with many suitors.

On the 30th the King had reached Tittenhanger in Hertfordshire,
and here received news of the death of Sir William Compton, who
was reported to be “lost by neclygens, in lettyng hym slepe in the
begynnyng of his swete.” No more on that day had been attacked in the
Court, and those who had sickened on the 28th were recovered.

Grafton tells us that during the stay at Tittenhanger the place was
daily purged with fires and other preservatives. An odd remedy against
a sweating sickness at Midsummer!

The second letter of the Cardinal du Bellay is of this date; after
recounting the names of nine courtiers who had been attacked, and of
three who were dead, he says--“but when all is said, those who do not
expose themselves to the air rarely die; so that out of more than
45,000 who have been attacked in London, not 2000 have died, whatever
people may say. It is true that if you merely put your hand out of bed
during the twenty-four hours, you instantly become stiff as a peacock.
P.S. Since writing my letters, I have been informed that a brother of
the Earl of Derby’s, and a son-in-law of the Duke of Norfolk’s, have
died suddenly at the legate’s (Wolsey), who slipped out at the back
door with a few servants, and would not let any body know whither he
was going, that he might not be followed. The king at last stopped
about twenty miles hence, at a house which M. the legate has had built,
and I have it from good authority, that he has made his will and taken
the sacrament, for fear of sudden seizure. Nothing ails him, thank God!”

We shall hereafter see that the ambassador was inclined to think more
seriously of it, when he had himself been a sufferer, and was the
only survivor of nineteen who were attacked. However, in the absence
of other evidence, we are bound to receive his statement as correct,
in reference to the amount of mortality. And even this must have
been proportionally as great as in our last epidemic of cholera and
diarrhœa. It is calculated, in the Report of the Scientific Committee,
published by the Board of Health, that seventy-one deaths in each
10,000 of the population of London took place, and that in this number
there were 3473 cases of all forms of cholera and diarrhœa; in other
words, that there was one death to every forty-eight attacks. But
Du Bellay’s statement gives an average of two deaths in forty-five
seizures; or more than double the proportion. Again, it must be
remembered that these occurred in the space of sixteen days, whereas
the cholera epidemic lasted six months. We do not wish to be supposed
to insist on this calculation; in either case it can merely be an
approximation, and we advance it here only to show that even a mild
epidemic of the sweating sickness was no slight pestilence.

On the first of July, we are informed that two cases had occurred at
Tittenhanger; one being that of a gentleman’s servant, the other, one
of the King’s wardrobe. On this day the King sends to Wolsey for “the
byll that Mr. Fynche made, for the remedy of all suche as have fallyn
syke in youre howse; for as His Hynes ys enformyd, he haythe doyne very
well, boythe to bryng them to there swheyte ageine, when they fall
owte, and allso to swayge the grete hete and burnyng.”

On the 5th, we find the King again despatching to Wolsey to delay
visiting him “untill the tyme be more propiciouse.” In a former letter
we learn that flying tales had reached Tittenhanger, that many of
his Grace’s folks were sick, and divers departed. Henry was as much
frightened as the Cardinal, although on St. Thomas’s day he sends
him a message, in a letter written by Dr. Bell, to put away fear and
fantasies, to commit all to God, and expresses a wish that “Your
Grace’s harte weer as gode as hys is.” Both king and minister made
their wills, and each took care that the assurance was conveyed to the
other that he was not forgotten in the testament. In the letter of
the 5th, the Cardinal is desired to “cawse generall processions to be
made, unyversally thorough the realme, aswell for the good wetheringes,
to thencrease of corne and fruyte, as also for the plage that now
reignethe.”

On the 9th, we find Henry preparing to remove from Tittenhanger to
Ampthill in Bedfordshire, in consequence of the seizure of the “Lady
Marques of Exeter,” and commanding that all such as were with the
Marquis and Marchioness should “departe in severall parcells, and so
not contynue together.”

On the 10th, the king had postponed his departure until the 11th; but,
in the meantime, eight or nine had fallen sick, although none had
been in jeopardy. The unpublished letter in the Cottonian Collection,
before alluded to, bears date July the 14th. It is from Brian Tuke to
Sir Peter Vannes. The disease had broken out in Tuke’s house; and he
says, “I write this at my waking after mydnyt, fearing to lye stil for
the swet, with an aking and troubled hed.” His wife had passed the
paroxysm, but “veray weke,” “and also sore broken oute about her mowthe
and other places.” His letter is principally filled with his opinion as
to the causes and mode of spread of the epidemic. He allows that there
is an infection, but believes that the disease is chiefly “provoked of
disposicion of the tyme.” He thinks that many frighten themselves into
it. (How commonly we heard this in the late epidemics!) He flatters
himself that he has obtained protection by the nightly use of a certain
means; which, however he does not specify. The context would lead us
to suppose that it was the application of cold in some form; for he
says--“It wer to long a worke to declare unto you by what and howe I
nyghtly put away the swet from me, and by what reason I dare do the
same, when al other men take that so doing they kil them self.” The
chief facts of interest we learn from this letter are, that the sweat
did not spread from Calais to Graveling, although there was constant
intercourse between the two places, and that it was brought from Sussex
into London. We may form some idea of his pathology by the following:
“It is not so moch to be doubted to put away the swet in the begynnyng,
and bifore a man’s grese be well hote, keping molten, as it is taken.
For though surely after the grese so heted it is no lesse but rather
more danger for a man to take colde then it wer for an horse that in
like case is destroyed.”

On the 18th, the Abbess of Wilton in Wiltshire writes to Wolsey, that
“it pleasithe Almyghty God to visite nowe the monastery with this
greate plage of swetyng.”

The French ambassador’s third letter bears date the 21st, and from it
we shall make our last extracts in reference to this visitation. He
says: “As to the danger which is in this country, it begins to diminish
hereabouts, but increases in parts where it had not been. In Kent it is
rife at this moment.” * * “The day that I had it at M. de Canterbury’s
(the archbishop), eighteen died of it in four hours; scarcely any
escaped that day but myself, and I am not yet stout. The king has
removed further than he was, and hopes that he shall not have the
complaint. Still he keeps upon his guard, confesses every day, receives
the sacrament on all holidays; and likewise the queen, who is with
him. M. the legate does the same. The notaries have a fine time of it
here: I believe there have been made a hundred thousand wills off hand,
because those who died all went mad the instant the disorder became
severe. The astrologers say this will turn to the Plague, but I think
they rave.”

The epidemic spread throughout the country, and in consequence of it
the circuits of assize were adjourned. Ireland also now unquestionably
felt its influence. In Cork it was very fatal; and in Dublin, in the
month of August, the archbishop and many of the citizens fell victims.
It continued in some parts of England until the autumn; for Magnus,
writing to Wolsey from Sheriff Hutton in Yorkshire, on the 7th of
October, says that in consequence of the “pestiferous and ragious
swete,” the Duke of Richmond has remained until now in a private place,
with few attendants.

We must apologize to our readers for these lengthy details; but it
is in descending to particulars we frequently can obtain that vivid
impression of bygone events, which a mere general statement so often
fails to convey.

In the following year, 1529, the sweating fever appeared at Hamburg,
and spread throughout Germany, the Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden, and
Norway. It is not within the limits of a historical paper, which is
confined to an account of the sweating sickness in England, to trace
the march of the pestilence. This has been most ably performed by
Hecker. Wherever it appeared it was accompanied, as usual, by dread,
death, and desolation. We cannot, however, agree with the German
professor in his view of the production of the epidemic. We are
inclined to avow ourselves contagionists, in a modified sense of the
word. It is beyond doubt that the disease did not appear at Hamburg
until, on the 25th of July, a ship arrived _from England_, commanded
by a Captain Hermann Evers, on board which, several cases of sweating
sickness had occurred. On the night of their landing four persons were
attacked and died. It is true that the conflagration no longer spread
widely in England, but it had not died out in the earlier part of
the preceding winter, and we cannot but believe that its flickering
embers still existed. Sporadic cases doubtless occurred, and even
isolated outbreaks of the disease. At least, we have strong proof of
one such taking place at Chester, in 1550, a year before the last great
epidemic.[C] Hecker seems to think that the passengers on board Captain
Evers’s ship, acquired the sweat in the fogs of the German Ocean. But
other ships must have been exposed to the same influence, and this
was an isolated case. When, we would inquire, did a similar epidemic
commence among the colliers of the Tyne, or the fishers of the Forth?
The argument that he adduces from the fact that no sooner did report
of the disease reach a place, than cases immediately occurred; and
that, therefore, it spread more rapidly than by contagion, is the same
advanced by our old friend, Brian Tuke, who says--“For when an hole
man hath comen from London, and shewed of the swet, the same nygt al
the toun, where the knowlege was, fal of it, and thus it spredeth yet
as the fame roneth.” What better proof of the intervention of human
intercourse can we have than is given in this sentence? The solution of
the problem lies in the “whole man who came from London.” Evidently the
rumour and the reality flew along the same conducting wire.

Yet we would not insist too much on what after all must be matter of
opinion. When we find the medical world of our own day so divided on
the subjects of the spread of cholera and yellow fever, the facts of
which appeal to their immediate observation, how can we hope to draw
conclusions with certainty from the scant records of 300 years ago--at
the best, but a faint glimmer to direct us through the darkness which
surrounds the past? That an outbreak of the sweat occurred at Chester
in the year 1550, is affirmed by all the local historians. The year
seems fixed by the fact that the mayor, Edmund Gee, died of it. We have
examined several lists of the mayors and sheriffs, both manuscript and
printed; and they each place his mayoralty and death in the year 1550.
The Chester Chronicles in the Harleian Collection, state that in the
morning he left the pentice (a local court) in good health, and that he
died before night. Forty persons are said to have been carried off in
twenty-four hours. Of course we cannot positively declare that there
has been no confusion of dates here; we only lay before our readers the
unanimous testimony of the Chester authorities.[D]

We have now arrived at the fifth and last act of the tragedy. The final
irruption of the sweating sickness commenced at Shrewsbury, in the year
1551, the fifth of the short but eventful reign of Edward VI. Caius
and Stow name the 15th of April as the day of its first appearance,
but a manuscript chronicle of the town dates its commencement from the
22nd of March. Local tradition yet points to the White Horse Shut,
Frankwell, as the focus from which the malady spread. Hecker, without
sufficient ground, places the amount of mortality at 960. But Caius,
whom he follows, merely states that in one city (_unâ civitate_)
that number died. We are inclined to doubt, with the authors of the
History of Shrewsbury, whether, as has been generally affirmed,
Caius was present in that town at all. When he says, “Ipse dum hæc
tragedia agebatur, præsens spectator interfui,” he only states that
he was an eye-witness of the dreary spectacle; and there are reasons
which render it more probable that he observed it in London than at
Shrewsbury. However this may be, we have his testimony that it spread
from its place of origin to Ludlow, Presteign, and other places in
Wales, thence to Westchester, Coventry, Drenfoorde (?), and the south,
before it came to London, which it reached on the 7th of July, three
months after its first appearance. He gives a most vivid description
of the consternation, horror, and desolation that reigned. Business
was at an end; citizens fled to the country; peasants thronged the
towns; many sought an asylum in foreign lands. The shrieks of women,
rushing half naked from their habitations, mingled with the groans of
the dying, and the deep clang of the funeral bell, booming through the
misty air from every tower and steeple, deafened the ear, and struck
terror to the heart of the passer. The epidemic was at its height in
the capital from the 9th to the 19th of July, and it lingered until
the 30th. In this time, at the lowest computation, nearly a thousand
people perished. The exact number is somewhat differently stated, Stow
says 960 died, of whom 800 in the first week. Caius (English treatise)
reports that 761 died from the 9th to the 16th, besides those on the
7th and 8th, of whom no register was kept, and 142 from the 16th to
the 30th. Machyn, a citizen resident in London, says that 872 were
certified by the chancellor to have perished from the 8th to the 19th;
whilst, in a manuscript in the Harleian Collection, we are told that
938 persons were carried off between the 7th and 20th. These numbers
render it probable that when Caius, in his Latin treatise, written
some time after, speaks of 960 dying in one city, his statement refers
to the metropolis. One testimony, however, places the mortality much
higher. Christopher Froschover, in a letter, dated London, August the
12th, affirms that 2,000 had died in the city, and 200 at Cambridge.
The short space of time occupied by the pestilence, with the awfully
abrupt seizure, and speedy termination of the fatal cases, rendered the
destruction so appalling. It was the “sudden death,” with battle and
murder equally dreaded.

Again the palace was attacked. A celebrated lawyer, Sir Thomas Speke,
was seized there, and had only time to reach his house in Chancery
Lane, before he breathed his last. There were some dancing in the
Court at nine o’clock, who were dead at eleven, says a sermon of the
period. There died in London, writes Machyn, “mony marchants and grett
ryche men and women, and yonge men.” Howes, in his continuation of
Stow, relates that “seven honest householders did sup together, and
before eight of the clock the next morning six of them were dead.” The
young king fled to Hampton Court, whence he addressed a letter to the
bishops, inciting them to persuade the people to prayer, and to see
God better served. There are several references to the malady in the
preaching of Bradford and Hooper: the latter made it the subject of a
pastoral charge and homily.

We are unable to trace the pestilence from town to town, but
sufficient data have been collected to shew how widely the destructive
principle was disseminated. In June we find it at Loughborough, in
Leicestershire. In the parish register is the curious entry: “1551,
June. The swat, called New acquaintance, alias Stoupe knave and know
thy master, began on the 24th of this month.” It was in July that
the disease appeared at Cambridge. Pursuing their studies in the
University, were the young Duke of Suffolk, and his brother, Charles
Brandon, equally distinguished for ability, worth, and learning.
Alarmed by the outbreak, they hastened, with a few attendants, to
Kingston, five miles distant. Here their chosen friend and companion,
Charles Stanley, was seized, and expired in ten hours. In sorrow and
consternation the brothers fled to the Bishop of Lincoln’s palace at
Bugden, in Huntingdon, where they were joined, late at night, by their
mother. Scarcely had she embraced them, when the Duke was attacked
by the fatal symptoms, and in five hours, despite the endeavours of
physicians, ceased to breathe. Within half an hour the younger brother,
who slept in a distant part of the palace, was also a corpse. Their
deaths created universal sorrow, the more, perhaps, that, through
the influence of their mother, they were known to be attached to the
principles of the Reformation. Our account is extracted from the very
rare and interesting black-letter tract by Sir Thomas Wilson.

Late in July the pestilence was at Gloucester, whence Bishop Hooper, in
a letter, dated August 1st, writes: “After I had begun this letter, my
wife, and five others of my chaplains and domestics, were attacked by a
new kind of sweating sickness, and were in great danger for twenty-four
hours. I myself have but recently recovered from the same. The
infection of this disease is in England most severe.” At Bristol the
mortality was great. It lasted from Easter to Michaelmas, and several
hundreds are said to have been carried off every week. Small towns and
villages equally felt the influence. The parish register of Uffculme,
in Devonshire, records that of thirty-eight deaths occurring, in 1551,
twenty-seven were in the first eleven days of August, and sixteen of
them in three days. These persons are said to have died of the “hote
sickness or stup gallant.” (This latter name is evidently derived from
the _Trousse Galant_ of the French, a disease which had been epidemic
in France in 1528, and afterwards, and which, we would suggest, was
allied to the worst form of scarlatina.)[E]

Whilst the south thus suffered, the north could offer no asylum. In
York and Hull the pestilence was severely felt. It ravaged Lancashire;
one parish register gives us the dates and number of deaths. In
Ulverstone parish there were five buried on the 17th, two on the 18th,
four on the 19th, eleven on the 20th, six on the 21st, six on the 22nd,
two on the 23rd, and three on the 24th of August. On the 7th of that
month we find it in the neighbourhood of Leeds. Whitaker quotes that
“on the 7th of August, 1551, the sweating sickness was so vehement in
Liversage, that Sir John Neville was departed from Liversage Hall to
his house at Hunslet, for fear thereof. It speedily despatched such as
were infected; for one William Rayner, the same day he died, had been
abroad with his hawk.”

The disease did not disappear till the end of September. Several of the
most distinguished men of the age fell its victims, as we learn in a
letter from Roger Ascham to Sir William Cecil. In Catholic countries
the sad fate of England was held a judgment on her departure from the
Romish faith. At home it roused that spirit of piety and benevolence,
which is never wanting in the Anglo-Saxon race in the time of suffering
and distress. The religious fervour of the period burned higher in the
gale; and, no doubt, amid the terrors of the sweating sickness, many
acquired that trust in Providence and fearlessness of death, which were
in the ensuing religious troubles to be so severely tried. On the other
hand, amongst the masses, as Grafton drily observes, “As the disease
ceased, so the devotion quickly decayed.”

From this time the Sudor Britannicus has never reappeared in its
epidemic form. In one or two instances, we have seen isolated notices
of death occurring from sweating sickness. But we have no means of
judging the nature of the disease referred to under that name, or of
determining the credibility of the statement. One thing is certain: no
large district of our island has ever been ravaged by its indigenous
pestilence, since the memorable year in which the destroying angel
alighted on the sedgy banks of the gentle Severn.



FOOTNOTES:

[A] HECKER’S Epidemics of the Middle Ages. Translated by B. G.
BABINGTON, M.D. Sydenham Society Edition. London: 1844.

JOHN CAIUS, M.D. A Boke or Counseill against the Sweat. London: 1552.

JOHN CAIUS. De Ephemerâ Britannicâ. Reprint. London: 1721.

State Papers published by Royal Commission. 1830.

HALL. Vnion of the two Noble and Illustre Famelies of Lancastre and
Yorke. 1548.

GRAFTON’S Chronicle. 1569.

STOW’S Chronicle, by Howes. London: 1611.

FABIAN’S Chronicle. London: 1559.

HOLLINSHED’S Chronicle. London: 1587.

Chronicle of the Grey Friars of London. Edited by J. G. NICHOLS. Camden
Society. 1852.

Diary of Henry Machyn, Citizen of London. Edited by J. G. NICHOLS.
Camden Society. 1848.

OWEN and BLAKEWAY’S History of Shrewsbury. London: 1825.

Collection of English Topographical Histories. Various.

Sir H. ELLIS. Original Letters. London: 1824.

Letters of the Kings of England. By J. O. HALLIWELL, F.S.A. London:
1848.

Harleian Manuscripts.

Cottonian Manuscripts. Titus, b. xi.

Lord BACON’S History of Henry VII. Op. b. iii. London: 1740.

ANTHONY à WOOD. History and Antiquities of University, Oxon. 1674.

Publications of the Parker Society. 1846-53.

[B] In 1491 and 92, a sweating plague is said to have prevailed in
Ireland; according to the Annals of the Four Masters, its attack was
of twenty-four hours duration. Ware says, but we know not on what
authority, that it was brought out of England. (See Census of Ireland
for the year 1851.)

[C] A remarkable notice of the occurrence of the sweat in the
town of Galway, in the year 1543, is given by Mr. Hardiman in his
local history. The fact was obtained from “Town Annals”, no longer
accessible. We can only class it, as an isolated outbreak, with that of
Chester in 1550. (Census of Ireland, 1851.)

[D] The manuscript above quoted, making the last Chester outbreak to
have occurred in 1550, places the first in 1506. If we believe these
annals to be incorrectly dated by a year, in that case the true date of
the earlier visitation will be 1507, as given by several writers. The
affirmation of Caius, that the disease appeared at Westchester (the old
name for Chester) in 1551, favours this assumption. On the other hand,
the Vale Royal, Ormerod, Hemingways and Lysons all agree in stating
that 1550 was the year in which the town was severely visited by the
malady. Whichever view we take, it would appear that one of the Chester
visitations must have occurred in a year (1507 or 1550) not marked by a
general epidemic, unless we gratuitously fix a charge of incorrectness
on the early local annalists.

[E] It was a fatal inflammatory fever, followed in the survivors by
loss of hair and nails, and dropsical effusions.



TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:


Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.





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