The famous Megadeath in Mexico after the Conquistador’s arrival may not have been caused by Old World diseases:
When Hernando Cortés and his Spanish army of fewer than a thousand men stormed into Mexico in 1519, the native population numbered about 22 million. By the end of the century, following a series of devastating epidemics, only 2 million people remained. Even compared with the casualties of the Black Death, the mortality rate was extraordinarily high. Mexican epidemiologist Rodolfo Acuña-Soto refers to it as the time of “megadeath.”
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There seemed little reason to debate the nature of the plague: Even the Spanish admitted that European smallpox was the disease that devastated the conquered Aztec empire. Case closed.
Then, four centuries later, Acuña-Soto improbably decided to reopen the investigation. Some key pieces of information — details that had been sitting, ignored, in the archives — just didn’t add up. His studies of ancient documents revealed that the Aztecs were familiar with smallpox, perhaps even before Cortés arrived. They called it zahuatl. Spanish colonists wrote at the time that outbreaks of zahuatl occurred in 1520 and 1531 and, typical of smallpox, lasted about a year. As many as 8 million people died from those outbreaks. But the epidemic that appeared in 1545, followed by another in 1576, seemed to be another disease altogether. The Aztecs called those outbreaks by a separate name, cocolitzli. “For them, cocolitzli was something completely different and far more virulent,” Acuña-Soto says. “Cocolitzli brought incomparable devastation that passed readily from one region to the next and killed quickly.”
The Aztecs had no written language but managed to use “colorful and evocative pictographs” to keep voluminous records on animal skin, agave fiber, or bark paper. Most of that information was destroyed by the Spaniards, but some of it was recaptured by curious priests.
The census data from the time of the Spanish invasion were so good that Acuña-Soto found he could track the movement of epidemics from village to village across the country. Friar Juan de Torquemada, a Franciscan historian writing in 1577, described the wake of cocolitzli in typical detail:
It was a thing of great bewilderment to see the people die. Many were dead and others almost dead, and nobody had the health or strength to help the diseased or bury the dead. In the cities and large towns, big ditches were dug, and from morning to sunset the priests did nothing else but carry the dead bodies and throw them into the ditches…. It lasted for one and a half years, and with great excess in the number of deaths. After the murderous epidemic, the Viceroy Martin Enriquez wanted to know the number of missing people in New Spain. After searching in towns and neighborhoods it was found that the number of deaths was more than two millions.
Medical historians insisted that the cause of all this affliction could only have been a European disease. But Acuña-Soto says, “The more I read of the cocolitzli, the more I realized that the descriptions of the disease and its spread did not fit any recognizable epidemiological paradigms.”
Francisco Hernandez, personal physician to Philip II of Spain, was named Proto-Médico de su magestad de todas las Indias — “surgeon general of New Spain” — in 1576, and he went on to learn five Indian languages, to interview many Indians, to autopsy victims of the 1576 epidemic, and to write down his observations — in 50 volumes. Philip II died just before the books arrived back in Spain, and his son found the project too expensive to publish, so the manuscript disappeared for 400 years, until it resurfaced around 1950 in the Hacienda Library in Madrid.
The “new” information on the disease painted it as quite different from any Old World disease:
The fevers were contagious, burning, and continuous, all of them pestilential, in most part lethal. The tongue was dry and black. Enormous thirst. Urine of the colors of sea-green, vegetal green, and black, sometimes passing from the greenish color to the pale. Pulse was frequent, fast, small, and weak — sometimes even null. The eyes and the whole body were yellow. This stage was followed by delirium and seizures. Then, hard and painful nodules appeared behind one or both ears along with heartache, chest pain, abdominal pain, tremor, great anxiety, and dysentery. The blood that flowed when cutting a vein had a green color or was very pale, dry, and without serosity…. Blood flowed from the ears and in many cases blood truly gushed from the nose…. This epidemic attacked mainly young people and seldom the elder ones.
It sounded much more like a hemorrhagic fever — like Ebola, Marburg, or Lassa.
Acuña-Soto checked the written records:
Acuña-Soto saw that each of the cocolitzli epidemics appeared to be preceded by several years of drought. He also found that the epidemics didn’t happen during the drought. They appeared only in the wet periods that followed. That was the crucial clue he had missed: It was raining when people got sick.
Then he had tree-ring expert corroborate those years of drought and rainfall — which required finding some of the few old Douglas fir trees left in central Mexico:
The evidence from the Douglas firs shows that during the 16th century central Mexico not only lacked rain but also suffered the most severe and sustained drought in 500 years, one that encompassed nearly the entire continent. Moreover — here was Acuña-Soto’s smoking gun — the tree-ring records show wet interludes setting in around the years 1545 and 1576, the years of the cocolitzli.
With the climate data in place, Acuña-Soto could piece together a convincing explanation of those epidemic years. Cocolitzli had been caused by a hemorrhagic fever virus that had lain dormant in its animal hosts, most likely rodents. Severe drought would have contained the population of rodents, forcing them to hole up wherever they could find water. Initially, only a small percentage may have been infected, but when forced into close quarters the virus was transmitted during bloody fights. Infected mother rodents then passed the virus to their young during pregnancy. When the rains returned, the rodents bred quickly and spread the virus — through their urine and feces — as they came into contact with humans in fields and homes. Once infected, humans transmitted the virus to one another through contact with blood, sweat, and saliva.
But why did this New World disease hit the Aztecs so hard while leaving the Spanish largely unaffected?
Hemorrhagic viruses affect human populations that are already stressed, Acuña-Soto says. “The natives were poor and probably near starvation and living in unsanitary conditions where the rats would congregate. They also worked in the fields, where they’d be exposed to the rat droppings. The Spanish made up the upper classes.”