On the cattle plague: or, Contagious typhus in horned cattle. Its history, origin, description, and treatment

Let us first observe, that those writers who ascribe the contagious typhus to the race of Southern Russia, do not take into consideration the epizootics of this typhus, the account of which has been handed down to us by the ancient authors of Greece and Rome; and that they refer just as little to those which are quite as frequent in the republics of South America as on the banks of the Dnieper. For even if we allow that once, and only once, one of these epizootics may be traced to the arrival of a ship containing oxen brought from the steppes, how, on the other hand, can we believe that all other epizootics have had such a fortuitous cause to generate it; consequently, the typhus, in these cases, must have been locally developed and diffused among American cattle?

Moreover, we seek in vain for the reasons which would authorize us to assign to the bovine race of the steppes a particular organization, rendering it alone fit to engender the typhus. But let us grant for a moment, that the Russian and Hungarian oxen constitute a peculiar race, as their framework and the length of their horns would seem to imply; this much being conceded, it still remains to be shown in what respect their anatomical and physiological structure differs from that of other animals to such an extent as to render them alone liable to originate this fatal typhus.

Oh! if it were true that the bovine race of the steppes alone could engender the typhus! we would hail the fact with joy, and would show without much exertion of reasoning that, in that case, we possessed not only the means of preventing the disease by inoculating sound and healthy cattle, but the far more important means of sweeping it for ever from the earth, by at once exterminating that cursed race, smitten with the original predisposition of this plague; and as, after all, the murderous scourge of the typhus of the steppes has already cost, and may perhaps continue to cost the various nations of the Old World millions upon millions, they would feel that their most urgent interest would be to come to an understanding (nor would the sacrifice be too much for their resources) so as to destroy and extirpate the evil at its original source. There would then be no difficulty in raising up a new breed of cattle in those countries, by transporting to it those of other nations free from the infection.

But who does not understand that this heroic sacrifice would be illusory, and that the foreign races, modified in time in this new medium, would regenerate the typhus; so that the double sacrifice of extermination and indemnity would have been made to no purpose?

We wish we could adopt this hypothesis, so simple and so consolatory, of the circumscribed origin of the typhus, and its exclusive propagation through the race of the steppes; but our mind is altogether opposed to that view, and for the following reasons, amongst others: —

If the bovine race of the steppes alone could produce the typhic virus, by reason of a particular organization which is the prime condition of its existence, this race alone would of necessity be fit to receive its taint by the influence of contagion. But if the other animals of the same species, as unfortunately too surely happens, can receive the principle of the disorder, develop the ailment, and die of its effects, then the reasoning of our opponents is faulty from its source; and it must be admitted that all horned cattle are apt to generate the typhic virus in those countries which afford the conditions of its production, and that this exclusive predisposition as it is called, attributed to the race inhabiting the steppes, is simply a chimera.

But arguments are seldom exhausted even to defend a bad cause, and it is objected that the fact that all oxen may contract the typhus transmitted by the contact of animals from one to another, does not prove that the original predisposition is the same in every race; and they persist in maintaining – 1st, that the typhus of the steppes is alone able originally to beget the disease; 2nd, that having thus begotten and produced it, it becomes, after this organic conception, apt to be transmitted to every animal, and fit to be assimilated with them.

To these subtleties and argumentative refinements it would be as easy for me to oppose abstract reasonings equally strong, as it would have been for the Jansenists and Mollinists, had it so chanced that they had been drawn into a debate on the origin and nature of the virus of the plague which carried off Jansenius. But let us confine ourselves to serious facts and conclude —

1st. That we have no proof of any anatomical and physiological difference in the humours or in the blood – that is to say, in the organic, intimate, and biological elements of the individuals which collectively constitute the bovine species.

2nd. That we have a right to believe, that all horned cattle are apt to develop the typhic virus when they are placed within the conditions required for that effect – that is to say, when they are exposed to the special morbific causes which form its condition sine quâ non, and which are met with on the banks of those great rivers which water Southern Russia and Hungary, in Africa, on the banks of the Nile, in South America, on the margins of the lakes, and in what are called hot climates, &c.

II

But if the origin of the typhus cannot exclusively depend on the peculiar organization of certain individuals of the bovine species, we must inquire after and search for the real causes which produce it.

We have explained already, in the First Part, what alterations organic matter undergoes in general, when accidental causes happen to modify its organic elements; and we have pointed out the fact, that of all living creatures herbivorous animals were those that offered the least vital resistance to the causes of disease and destruction.

This unquestionable fact being taken for granted, let us now consider under what conditions live the multitudinous herds of horned cattle which in Russia and in South America are reared and supported solely for the produce of their flesh, and sometimes, too, for that of their hides.

The great breeders and proprietors fix the number of their heads of cattle according and in proportion to the quantity of the pastures, but like other men, they mortgage the future for their benefit without making due allowance for accidents or extreme changes of weather, as when years of unusual drought succeed those of heavy rain; so that these herds, by the single fact of these extreme fluctuations in the degrees of temperature, are exposed to a multiplicity of causes productive of disease. The same nature which generates life and health generates disease and dissolution, and when the former are neglected the latter will prevail.

In the prosperous and favoured countries of the temperate zone, such as England and France, these extreme variations in the seasons, which are always the cause of a deficiency or alteration in the production of fodder, are equally the cause of the numerous epizootics which attack all the herbivorous species, and particularly those to which oxen fall victims, such as the tumourous typhus (le typhus charbonneux), the so-called aphthous fever, the contagious peripneumonia (which is not liable to return and is prevented by inoculation), parasitical cutaneous disease.

But in less favoured countries, in those which are damp, argillaceous, swampy, inundated by the overflows of their lakes and rivers, or by the reflux of the sea, there is deposited a slimy or brackish water, which a temporary torrid heat afterwards causes to ferment; and then a superabundance of life, a teeming vegetation, springs up in all directions. In the midst of this swarming vitality live and thrive an infinity of worms, maggots, animalculæ, insects, mollusca, fish, reptiles, birds, &c.; and here, too, all these creatures die and decay, when this slime, the prolific source of generations which we might look upon as spontaneous, begins to dry up and disintegrate. Then from these organic vegetable and animal matters, in a state of decomposition, escape those deleterious gases, such as hydrogen, carbonic oxide, nitrogen, carbonic acid, sulphuretted hydrogen, and even phosphoretted hydrogen.

Often to all these causes of infection are added myriads of grasshoppers, which cover the ground, where they die, aggravating the mass of pestiferous vapour which fills the atmosphere. Finally, the water which slakes the thirst of the herds of cattle is corrupted; the plants on which they feed distil poisons; the air, the water, and the plants, carry within them a principle of venom and death. After this, how can we be surprised if this flood of putrid emanations is transformed into a contagious typhic virus, whose subtle and pestilential effluvia are conveyed by the ox to considerable distances?

In fine, let us recapitulate in our minds all the causes of destruction to which these passive creatures are exposed, and we shall acknowledge that there is no necessity to attribute to them a peculiar organization in order to understand the development of the typhus, which, at a given moment, cuts them all off; and that in the deltas of the different countries, as well in Asia, Africa, and America, as in Europe, are to be found those conditions of infectious disease which we have described. In these causes, and only in these causes, or in those which resemble them, will rational men seek for the principle of the contagious typhus in the bovine race.

Moreover, who is there who does not understand that what is true with regard to cholera is likewise applicable to this contagious typhus? The cholera, for causes analogous to these, subject to the particular state of the soil, is generated, not exclusively, it is true, but most frequently, on the banks of the Ganges, in the same manner as the contagious typhus is developed in certain countries where its natural focus is found.

The race of animals which exists on this deadly and destructive soil is an instrument of incubation for typhus, not in consequence of their peculiar structure, but because the conditions under which they live condemn them to this fate.

III

Now the breeding of cattle, and the feeding and fattening of them for the market, constitute a branch of industry – a great interest. They all have to be removed, conveyed to various distances, and sold; so that this traffic becomes a new cause to be added to all those which foster, develop and propagate the distemper.

In prosperous times, when the seasons, conformably with our wishes, have pursued a course which we call regular (for we are fain to believe that the planets turn on their axes on our account), and when the cattle find the ground covered with rich pastures, and limpid streams – conditions which are eminently favourable in themselves, though in Hungary it is necessary to add gum, salt, mineral water, and arsenic acid, before the health of these animals is satisfactory, – then the cattle breeders make their sordid calculations, and select the heads of cattle intended for sale.

With animals, as with man, health is but relative, not absolute; the healthiest in appearance often bearing within its frame the fatal principle of no distant death. Fatness not being by any means a sure sign of vital strength, many of these cumbersome beasts, though seemingly in good and sound condition, contain in their systems, in various stages of incubation, the tainted leaven of contagious affections, such as peripneumonia, or even the typhus itself.

But, regardless of this liability, their sale and migration are resolved upon at length. Hitherto these harmless creatures have lived in the most perfect stillness and retirement. Their calm, monotonous life has been as regular as the course of time; never by a single pulsation have their hearts exceeded the wonted number per minute; they are all gifted with a nervous sensibility of which the vulgar have no notion. Some favoured few have felt the sympathy of friendship for the herdsman who tended them, and for the companions with which they fed. They have been leaders of their own herd, they have marched at their head; they have given the signal when to seek shelter beneath the trees, or when to repair to the brook. They have loved the fields amidst which they have grown and thriven. Some of them, reared and fed beneath the domestic thatch, were grateful for the care they had received; their master was endeared to them, they would run to meet his coming, answer to their name, and lick his hand with fondness.

And it is the course of this tranquil, this happy existence, that is about to be broken abruptly. It is this creature, the pattern of gentleness and goodness, that we are going to treat like a heap of insensible and inert matter – which we are going to subject to unutterable torture!

And now, indeed, these creatures are all at once handed over to the savage guidance, to the thongs and cudgels, of a hind, whose cruelty keeps pace with his stolid ignorance, and who abets his dogs to quicken their course to the neighbouring market. From this moment, half-fed and athirst, these poor animals are forced to make long journeys afoot; or since the construction of railways, to be heaped together confusedly in a locomotive pen. There, the shaking, the sudden starts, the friction of five hundred wheels on the rails, the horrid snorting of the engines, alarm and terrify them to such a degree as to turn the whole mass of their blood.

In such a state of vital prostration or feverish excitement, entire herds are carried to the public markets or to annual fairs with other animals, and nearly all sent to the shambles. But some amongst them are reserved for another fate. The females, for instance, are set apart to serve as milch cows; and in this manner they carry with them into the cowsheds, wherein they are received, the taint of those contagious distempers, the germs of which lay concealed in their frames, or which they have contracted from the companions of their journey.

Some of these heads of cattle, starting from the steppes of Russia, have to travel five hundred miles in an open cage, less cared for and protected than bales of merchandise, exposed to the rain, to the heat of the sun, to sudden changes of temperature, to cold and cutting draughts, increased by the rapid motion of the train; – these animals, foundered, prostrate, panting with fever and torturing pains, still have to undergo new trials, if they cross the sea. In this case, the wretched victims are violently expelled from the locomotive, rocking sheds of the railway; a leathern strap hanging from a crane lifts them into the air, and lets them down into the mid-deck of a ship, where they are crowded as closely together as possible, for here, too, space is very costly. Finally, the vessel gets under way and ploughs the ocean; contrary winds beat it about in every direction, and these poor creatures have to endure a new kind of torture, accompanied by the intolerable pangs of sea-sickness; and in this state it is that they alight on the British soil, and are driven off to the different markets.

It is useless to expatiate at length on the state of general derangement and disease in which these oxen reach their final destination. Some amongst them have endured for eight or nine days these unspeakable tortures, without being sustained by nourishment – for no animal, when his spirits forsake him, can assimilate his food amidst all this physical suffering and so great a shock to his nervous system.

Let us here declare that these animals, though removed from their meadows with all the signs and appearances of sound health, at a time when a fine season had been productive of abundance, and when no epizootia was raging in the country which they have left, may nevertheless bear within them the taint of contagious typhus; and let us ask ourselves what must come to pass in those disastrous years when this typhus prevails under the influence of those destructive causes which were passed in review just now, and when the Russian and Hungarian proprietors, eager to forestall an inevitable general calamity, hasten to send off to Italy, France, Holland, Finland, or to the ports of England, many animals already seized with typhus, and whose virus must have acquired infectious properties still more intense and deadly under the influence of the deep disquiet and commotion which the removal and conveyance of these animals, under conditions so deplorable, must have produced in their frames.

Such are indeed the pernicious conditions in which oxen may be, and often are, dispatched to England; and such appears to be the real cause of the outbreak of the spreading epizootia which we witness at this moment, and which has created so much alarm in so many counties of England.2

IV

Let us now consider this contagious typhus in its destructive extension over the British soil; let us study and examine the causes of its diffusion as they pass under our notice.

The mooted question of determining whether the cattle typhus was originally imported from abroad, or whether it broke out spontaneously in England, has been, and still is, a subject of dubious debate amongst some professional men, amongst the leading writers of the public journals, and also amongst agriculturists and farmers.3

And, in truth, the propagation of the distemper is occasionally witnessed under conditions so singular and striking, that it seems to warrant and supply arguments for every conceivable opinion.

When the disease was recognised and identified for the first time on the 24th of June, 1865, public opinion ascribed its appearance to contagion arising from some diseased cows imported from Finland, and which, after being exposed in the Islington Market on the 19th, were sold and removed to the cowsheds of a breeder or dairyman.

We may observe that, on hearing the intelligence of this sudden invasion, the public mind, which is so excitable in England, did not disguise the indignation it felt against foreign countries which had been capable of contaminating an island so advantageously situated and so well protected, and infecting her magnificent herds, exuberant with health. But after a closer examination of the facts, and possibly alarmed, at the serious consequences of a Continental blockade which would deprive the United Kingdom, not of the entire twenty or thirty thousand live stock, such as oxen, sheep, pigs, &c., which they receive every week, but only of the eight or ten thousand head of cattle which are landed weekly on their coasts to supply their markets, public opinion was appeased. But, unfortunately, this national susceptibility now took the opposite extreme; and the only causes it now saw were the dirt and want of adequate ventilation in the metropolitan stables and sheds; and to these causes it attributed, first the generation, and then the propagation or diffusion of the malady; an opinion which appeared all the more natural and reasonable, in that the oxen and cows of the graziers were the first victims of the typhus.

We all know how liable, among all nations, the public mind is to waver and fluctuate, and how susceptible and open it is to new impressions during fatal visitations and general calamities; nor can we feel the least surprise at the uncertainty which has so long prevailed, and still continues, as to the real causes of the introduction of the bovine typhus in England.

Let us therefore examine this question of etiology, and try to discover what opinion ought to prevail.

It is important to establish at once two material facts which seem to us indisputable:

1st. That the contagious typhus in cattle which is known to be permanent in the southeast of Europe, actually existed there during the month of June, 1865; 2nd, That some of the horned cattle, fed and reared in that part of Europe, were transported to England, after having crossed through Russia from south to north, in order to avoid passing through Germany.

As for the first of these facts, it is admitted and received, as might easily be proved by reproducing the speeches and addresses delivered by the veterinary doctors at the Congress now being held at Vienna, and at which were present the men whose experience of this cattle distemper gives them the highest authority – Hertwig, Jessen, Röll, Siegmund, Gerlach, &c.

The contagious typhus of horned cattle is so fully in the epizootic state in those countries which are washed by the Black Sea, that it was enough for the veterinarians present at the Congress to manifest a desire to see cattle afflicted with this disease, for the opportunity so to do to be immediately afforded them.4

Thus, then, the fact is undeniable, the contagious typhus was raging, in June, 1865, in Hungary and Russia, as it rages there at all times.

As for the conveyance of cattle from those countries into England, the fact is no less certain and assured. It is well known that a convoy of 300 heads of cattle, proceeding from the pasture-grounds of Hungary and Austria, was transported into Finland by rail, and afterwards shipped at Revel for England. Thanks to the rapid locomotion by steam, the migration of these cattle had lasted but ten days – two days for the transport by land, and eight days for the passage by sea, through the tortuous line of the Baltic; but this was sufficient length of time for the incubation to be produced, even supposing the animals to have looked sound when their transit began.

Moreover, it is indubitable that the markets of this immeasurable London have for many years been supplied with horned cattle from every country: from France, Holland, Belgium, Podolia, Poland, Prussia, Austria, Hungary, and Russia.

Thus, the Islington Market (the fact is assured) had received horned cattle imported from the countries where typhus is known to be permanent. Were these cattle thus imported affected with the typhus? This fact likewise is as certain as the other, since two of the foreign cows thus imported, were the first to fall sick, and to die of this typhus.

But if the contagious typhus of horned cattle rages permanently on the banks of the streams which discharge themselves into the Black Sea, and if the beasts reared in those countries have long been transported to England and other countries, how, it will be asked, is it that the disease has not broken out more frequently, for it has never been seen in Great Britain, at least, during the former part of the nineteenth century?

This question is not devoid of a certain degree of importance, and deserves to fix our attention for a moment.

Now the conditions in which the animals were exhibited in 1863 and 1864 were precisely the same as those of 1865, before the outbreak of the disease; and yet the contagion has been possible in 1865, whilst it was not so in 1863.

We do not presume to explain the mysterious phenomena which govern the development of epidemics and epizootics; but it seems to us not altogether impossible to give a rational and satisfactory elucidation of the facts.

In general, in epizootics, and I might even say in some particular epidemics – in that of the typhus, for instance – three connected and inseparable facts form the condition sine quâ non, of the generation of the disease. First, a focus for producing the virus; secondly, for the most part a favourable soil, and a special predisposition amongst animals to receive and propagate it; thirdly, what is called an epidemic or epizootic genius – that is to say, a particular state of the atmospheric elements, or the air, which hitherto has escaped our analyses, and whose morbific properties vary in their degrees of intensity. Thus the epizootic genius of 1711, the terrible one of 1750, and the one which now diffuses its contagious miasma, have differed in some of their virulent conditions.

However that may be, it will be sufficient to glance back at the past to assure ourselves that, in general, epizootics have been coincident with some violent change of season, such as extreme droughts, or superabundant rains; that is to say, when the cattle, disturbed in the physiological conditions of their health, have become favourable to the incubation of the miasmatic leaven scattered through the air, or else when these animals were living under irregular conditions, and had to endure unwonted fatigues and privations, as in the folds of campaigning armies, for instance.

These epizootics have appeared to depend not only on the state of the soil and of the health of the cattle, but also (we repeat it designedly) on an element no less indispensable to the propagation of the disease – a special state of the air, which favours the development and preservation of typhic miasma: for sometimes a sudden change of temperature has proved sufficient to stop the rampant progress of the contagion, the other conditions remaining unaltered.