All this took place in April and May of the ever memorable year 1517, and London was again indulging in hopes of better days, when the Sweating Sickness once more broke out quite unexpectedly in July, and in spite of all former experience, and the most sedulous attention, inexorably demanded its victims. On this occasion it was so violent and so rapid in its course, that it carried off those who were attacked in two or three hours, so that the first shivering fit was regarded as the announcement of certain death. It was not ushered in by any precursory symptoms. Many who were in good health at noon, were numbered among the dead by the evening, and thus as great a dread was created at this new peril as ever was felt during the prevalence of the most suddenly destructive epidemic: for the thought of being snatched away from the full enjoyment of existence without any preparation, without any hope of recovery, is appalling even to the bravest, and excites secret trepidation and anguish. Among the lower classes the deaths were innumerable[447]. The city was moreover crowded with poor; but even the ranks of the higher classes were thinned, and no precaution averted death from their palaces. Ammonius of Lucca, a scholar of some celebrity, and in this capacity private secretary to the king, was cut off in the flower of his age, after having boasted to Sir Thomas More, only a few hours before his death, that by moderation and good management he had secured both himself and his family from the disease[448]. Also of those immediately about the king, Lords Grey and Clinton were carried off, besides many knights, officers and courtiers. Mourning supplanted the hilarity and brilliancy of the festivals, and the king, while in miserable solitude, into which he had retired with a few followers, received message after message from different towns and villages, announcing, that in some a third, in others even half the inhabitants were swept off by this pestilence. It had never before raged with so much fatality. The minds of men had never before been so frightfully appalled. The festival of Michaelmas, (29th September,) which in England was always kept with much religious pomp, was of necessity postponed; nor was the solemnity of Christmas observed, for there was a dread of collecting together large assemblies of people[449], on account of the contagion; and just about this time, when the Sweating Sickness had abated, the plague, according to the account of some historians, began, which, although probably not very virulent, prevailed during the whole winter in most English towns, and continued to keep up the distress of the people. The king on this occasion also quitted his capital, and retreated, in company with a few attendants, before the contagion, frequently shifting his court from place to place. It was during this period of trouble (11th of February, 1518) that the Princess Mary, afterwards Queen, was born[450].