Hull seems to have learned a bit. Here's their response to foreigners in 1829 (from a broadside now in the National Library of Scotland):

A FULL ACCOUNT OF TWELVE YOUNG WOMEN, Who were smothered on TUESDAY,
in the infirmary at Hull, being effected with an incurable disease.

A German ship arrived in this port on the 23rd of June, 1829 having 30
hands on board, and when the vessel got into harbour, immediately a
number of unfortunate females went on board, to barter both their souls
and bodies for a trifling sum of money.

It is the nature of sin to carry with it its own punishment, and the
awful denunciation of God's displeasure commences in this, and terminates
in the terrors of an other world: for the foreigners infested a disease
of such an infectious and dreadful nature, that it baffled the skill of
the most eminent and experienced of the faculty, and proved too stubborn
for any antidote to cure.

After every means had been used without producing the desired effect, the
symptoms of this dreadful malady became more and more alarming: the flesh
turned yellow, then spongy as a honey comb, and afterwards black and began
to drop from their bones.

So offensive was the stench that arose from their bodies that no person,
however desirous, could approach their beds or give them any relief.

On Saturday, a consultation of the medical gentlemen, connected with the
infirmary was held, when after a long conference, they came to the awful
decision, that these wretched women should be smothered with nitre and
sulphre, the easiest and most effectual method of putting a stop to the
raging infection.

THE NAMES OF THESE UNFORTUNATE WOMEN ARE Jane Williams, aged 19, and Mary
Williams 16, of Newcastle; Eliza Watson, 15, of Leeds; Mary Evans, 20, of
North Shields; Maria Sager, 29, and Sarah Rich, 17, of Halifax; Catherine
Howell, 17, of Salford; Ann Lloyd, 19, and Eliza Bennet, 18, of Sheffield;
Mary Parry, 18, of Wrexham; Sarah Jones, 19, and Ellen Davis, 18, of Chester.

Verses on their melancholy End.

Lament, lament, the woeful fate
        Of twelve young females dear,
Who suffer'd a sad death of late,
        Most painful for to hear.
Now let all those young women know,
        Who stray from Virtue's ways,
That vice did prove their overthrow,
        And shortened their days.

A foreign ship in port arriv'd,
        Of thirty hands or so,
And twelve gay damsels young and blythe,
        Straight on board did go.
And their a loathsome vile disease,
        Infectious and foul,
Did on these twelve young women size,
        And rag'd beyond control.

Their flesh did rot upon their bones,
        Spungy, like honey comb,
Their dismal cries, and sighs, and moans,
        Would pierce a heart of stone.
The doctors to their pain and grief,
        Beheld their sufferings great,
But could afford them no relief,
        The plague for to abate.

All human means being tried in vain,
        But could not mend the case,
To put the sufferers out of pain,
        An awful scene took place.
The dread infection to destroy,
        Which through the town might spread,
Their precious lives were sacrific'd.
        They smother'd were in bed.

Printed by Kay and Simpson, for J. Robson.

What next? Hartlepool holds a Be Nice to Monkeys Day?

(I haven't found any corroboration of this event, though the symptoms correspond to a haemorrhagic virus like Ebola so well that the disease itself might not have been made up).