Chapter IV · (continued 4)

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 deaths All 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.

Year Smallpox deaths Measles deaths All 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.

Total Under 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]:

1819 Deaths from smallpox Deaths from 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 the mortality Progress of premium 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:

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:

Year Smallpox 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.

Year Deaths from all causes Deaths from smallpox Deaths from measles Deaths from 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 1 1-2 2-5 5-10 10-20 20-30 30-40 Above 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

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.

Year Smallpox 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 years Five to Ten Above 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 One and Two Three and Four Five to Nine Above 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 in 1000 deaths Limerick Dispensary 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 qr 4th qr 1st qr 2nd 3rd qr 4th qr 1st qr 2nd qr 3rd qr 4th 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 Pontypool 13 85 102 50 22 21 22 30 26 10

Merthyr Tydvil 9 54 160 91 10 3 18 16 12 —

Weymouth, Bridport, and Beaminster 4 19 92 31 8 4 10 9 2 —

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 etc. 1 3 30 24 2 3 — — — —

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.