TETANUS. 29 
being much oppressed, and of pain at the pit of the stomach. Such 
complaints show the diaphragm to be involved, while the large doses 
of strong medicine which can be swallowed with impunity prove the 
abdominal contents have not escaped. Therefore, the author regards 
tetanus as spasm of the entire muscular system. 
A horse of any age may exhibit tetanus. Colts, newly dropped, have 
displayed the disorder, and all animals are liable to its attacks; but the 
very aged are least subject to this malady. Animals of a highly nerv- 
ous temperament are most inclined toward it. 
It is said to be of two kinds; but, in truth, it only has two origins. 
Traumatic tetanus is when it springs from a wound; idiopathic tetanus 
is when it appears without there being any known lesion to account for 
its presence. It may display its symptoms immediately or within a 
month of the injury. From the sixth to the fourteenth day is the most 
likely period for the advent of the disorder. 
Cold, rain, draughts of air, and too much light, are all likely to ori- 
ginate it. Their potency, perhaps, ranges in the order they are placed. 
A gentleman is apt to dismount at some hospitable house and to leave 
the animal, which has quickly borne him thither, shivering in the night 
air. The master enjoys himself, probably, more than is good for his 
health. The patient steed waits and waits, more quietly than the most 
faithful of human slaves. It shivers in the night air; its limbs become 
cramped with the cold. The wind gets up, as the owner, before a cheer- 
ful fire, mixes another glass and takes another cigar. Still the horse 
remains almost in the spot where it was placed. The perspiration which 
covered the body dries in the darkness; evaporation quickly chills the 
blood which violent exercise had heated. The pulse sinks; spasms creep 
over the frame, but there is none near to note them. In solitude and 
discomfort the most painful of maladies is imbibed: in due time it 
breaks forth. to the astonishment of the proprietor. 
Another man rides far and fast through a heavy shower. He reaches 
a distant house and flings himself from the saddle, fastening the horse 
to the door-post. Cordials are ready for the man, and business is dis- 
cussed over a glass. No one thinks seriously of the poor life fastened 
to the door-post. ‘The horse is wet and can take no harm.” “The 
gallop home will warm it,” and so forth. Therefore, the animal re- 
mains, to be drenched by the rain and to creep as near to the house as 
it may for partial shelter; the posterior part of the body, however, pro- 
jects, and the drops fall, heavy and cold as lead, upon the loins of the 
patient beast. The blood loses its warmth and the limbs their elasticity. 
When the owner again crosses the saddle he may be jolly; but it needs 
both spur and whip to cause the dripping and frozen animal to move. 
