‘Comebacks’ are rarely welcomed as they invariably fail to live up to the hype: See Peter Kay, Elton John and, er, syphilis (now there’s a column opener I thought I'd never write!)

But, oh yes, the moment none of us have been waiting for has arrived: The medieval illnesses are back!

Syphilis cases have trebled in recent years, especially in cities where there are high concentrations of LGBT folk. Peculiarly, the Manchester Evening News has, for some unknown reason, produced an ‘interactive syphilis map’ so you can ‘track’ where the disease is most prevalent (Lambeth, London if you must know).

At its peak in the late 1800s, 20% of Londoners were thought to have tested positive by their 35th birthdays as the lack of sanitation and complete lack of sexual education were contributing factors to a disease that credited the French armies of 500 years ago as the original instigators of its European introduction. Producing nasty sores, thankfully, despite its comeback, it is now treatable (if you can get a doctor’s appointment) with only 30 deaths in the UK between 2013 and 2021.

Not to be outdone in the disease comeback stakes, scabies has also made an unwelcome and overdue resurgence in recent times. Associated with squalid living conditions, 2,000 cases annually are reported with ‘maddening’ itches as the mites burrow under the skin of the unfortunate carriers.

In 2022, rickets also saw a resurgence with over 400 people being hospitalised for an illness caused by insufficient sunlight and vitamin D, along with scurvy (188 hospitalisations) which is caused by vitamin C deficiency.

In medieval times, there were a number of beliefs as to why such unpleasant diseases were spread including ‘god’ who would ‘punish those not living by his word’, the supernatural, bad smells (caused by an absence of sanitation, overcrowding in cities and the proximity in which humans lived with animals) and the ‘four humours’. Believed by doctors to be the imbalance between bodily fluids. The four humours included blood, phlegm, yellow and black bile, and leave us glad that today's doctors, no matter how difficult they are to see face to face, have thankfully moved on from such witchcraftery nonsense.

Other nasties that, thankfully, have not (yet!) made a comeback since medieval times include the bubonic plague and sweating sickness. The one that really interests me however made a brief appearance for but a couple of months back in 1518 in Strasbourg. Mrs Troffea, for some unexplained reason went into the street and started dancing, only stopping when she collapsed with exhaustion. She would be joined by 30 other people who would all, in a state of mania, dance with her until they too collapsed. Eventually over 400 people were diagnosed with the condition, many of whom died, and the only causes of such activity were put down to their being ‘possessed’ or due to their blood heating up. A few months later and the illness had been eradicated, arguably only being seen since at 90’s raves in a field somewhere in Hampshire, alright.

And, just like musicians who make comebacks after the spotlight has dimmed, the reason is similar as to why medieval illnesses are back on the block with ‘poverty’ being the main driver. With one in six of us living in poverty in the UK at present, adults and children are twice as likely to die of disease in such stricken areas as they are when compared to more prosperous neighbourhoods. With the ‘strain’ on public services, including access to healthcare, now beyond the breaking point, the truth is many either can't access the care they need, or they get bored waiting for the care they require and choose to suffer the consequences which arguably leads to premature and, in many cases, unpleasant yet avoidable deaths.

All the above does however is reaffirm my ambition to leave people, and things, and illness behind, and go and live in the Highlands in Scotland, far from the madding crowd, albeit preferably with a Sky football connection and local Sainsbury delivery service. That said, knowing my luck, I'm likely to get nipped by an ewe and see my days out in a Scottish infirmary where they cannot understand me nor me them, as I suffer the fall out of an uninvited bout of rabies, y’ken?

  • Brett Ellis is a teacher