Part 15

Dr. Carl Warburg, an Austrian doctor, compounded a tincture some seventy years ago which soon acquired an extraordinary reputation in the treatment of agues and malarial fevers. Although its formula was not disclosed, the Austrian Ministry of Health about 1848 put it on the list of medicines which had to be stocked by all pharmacists, fixed the maximum price at which it should be sold to the public at 2 fl. 30 kr. (about 5s.), and established a central depot in Vienna for its manufacture, paying Dr. Warburg a salary for overseeing its preparation. A little later a medical commission was appointed to examine the tincture and draw up a formula for it. The commissioners formed themselves into three sections, and each section made an independent analysis. All agreed that the tincture was an alcoholic preparation of quinine, aloes, camphor, and saffron; zedoary root and angelica were guessed at by two of the sections, and rhubarb by one. The formula adopted was Hepatic aloes, and zedoary root, of each 1 drachm; Angelica root, and camphor, of each 2 grains; Saffron, 3 grains, spirit of wine, 3 ounces. Dissolve, filter, and add 30 grains of sulphate of quinine.

The publication of this formula did not apparently interfere with the sale of the proprietary article, which might have continued if the inventor had not been persuaded to surrender his secret.

About the middle of the century Warburg’s Tincture had acquired great reputation in India. Lt.-General Sir Mark Cubbon K.C.B., Commissioner of the Mysore province, seems to have first made it known. At his own expense he supplied 1,500 bottles to the medical officers of his commission. Subsequently remarkable evidence was given before a Royal Commission, appointed to inquire into the health of the Indian Army, by Major-General Cottin R.E., who stated that many great engineering works carried on in “deadly jungles” had been brought to a successful issue mainly through the protection afforded to the workmen by this tincture. In an article published in the _Lancet_, November 15, 1875, Professor W. C. Maclean, Inspector General of the Army, gave still more striking testimony. He said he had treated remittent fevers of every degree of severity contracted in India, China, and the Gold Coast, and had never known quinine when given alone act in the characteristic manner of this tincture. A dose of 9½ grains of quinine in Warburg’s Tincture would often not only arrest the exacerbation of the fever but would frequently prevent its recurrence. He had never known quinine have that effect. In the same article Professor Maclean published the formula for the tincture which Dr. Warburg had confided to him on the advice of his friends. It was as follows:--Socotrine aloes 1 lb.; East India rhubarb, angelica seeds, confectio Damocratis, of each, 4 oz.; elecampane, fennel seed, saffron, prepared chalk, of each 2 oz.; gentian root, zedoary root, cubebs, picked myrrh, camphor, larch agaric, of each 1 oz. Digest these ingredients in 500 ounces of proof spirit in a water bath for 12 hours, express, and add 10 oz. of sulphate of quinine. Replace the mixture in the water bath till the quinine is dissolved, and filter.

The tincture was supplied in 1 oz. bottles, and ½ oz. was given for a dose after the bowels had been evacuated. The other ½ oz. was given 3 hours after.

Three years later Professor Maclean wrote to the _Times_ stating that Dr. Carl Warburg was living in England in poverty. The large fortune he had made from his tincture at one time had disappeared, and the publication of his formula had resulted in the loss of his income. He asked that the Indian Government would make some provision for him in return for the publication of his valuable secret. The India Office made a grant of £200 to Dr. Warburg in 1882, but in June, 1890, the Hon. Sydney Holland wrote to _The Chemist and Druggist_ appealing for further assistance. The old man was then 86 and Mr. Holland and Professor Maclean had collected enough to provide him with 15s. a week for the rest of his life. This was the last heard of the old gentleman, and his case may be remembered as a caution to over-scrupulous inventors of remedies.

WARD’S REMEDIES.

Joshua Ward, who was born in 1685 and died in 1761, was one of the most notorious and successful of English quacks. In Gray’s “Supplement” and in Paris’s “Pharmacologia” he is said to have been a footman and to have obtained his recipes from some monks while travelling on the Continent with his master. This story is not corroborated by contemporary accounts, nor is it adopted by the “Dictionary of National Biography.”[3] From these sources it appears that Ward came of a good family, and in early life was associated with his brother William in the business of a drysalter in Thames Street, London.

In 1717 he was returned to Parliament as member for Marlborough; but there was either fraud or mistake about this return, for a Committee appointed to investigate it reported that not a single vote had been given for Ward. He was consequently unseated and the other candidate for whom a few votes had been cast got the seat.

Apparently Ward had got into some political trouble; the “Dictionary of National Biography” suggests that it was in connection with the Jacobite rising in 1715. He had escaped to France before the Parliamentary inquiry, and in Paris he commenced the sale of the pills and drops which he afterwards made so famous in London. Ward had evidently not finished sowing his political wild oats, for he somehow became obnoxious to the French Government, and was only saved from a sojourn in the Bastille through the intervention of his friend, John Page, M.P. In 1733 he obtained a pardon from George II. and returned to England.

Wards pharmacopœia became a rather extensive one. His pills and drops were the principal medicines he concocted; both were strong antimonial preparations. The pills were composed of glass of antimony (an oxysulphide of the metal), 4 parts, mixed with 1 part of dragon’s blood. This combination was made into 1½ grain pills. The combination of antimony with a resinous substance had been adopted in several earlier preparations, mastic being generally preferred. The resin was supposed to “blunt” the action of the antimony. The drops were made by dissolving ½ oz. of glass of antimony in 1 quart of Malaga wine. These powerful medicines were no doubt effective in many cases. Both cures and casualties were likely enough to result from them. These were the medicines which Ward first made famous in Paris, and with which he started his career in London.

Ward made besides a “white drop” which was an ammoniated solution of nitrate of mercury; two sweating powders, one of which was simply “Dover’s,” but with some liquorice powder added; the other was the same with the addition of white hellebore. His paste for fistula and piles was the original of our Conf. Piper. Nig. His “liquid sweat” was a wine of opium with saffron, cinnamon, and salt of tartar; his “dropsy purging powder” was jalap, cream of tartar and orris powder in equal proportions; later the orris was dropped and a small quantity of bole armeniac was substituted, and his essence for the headache appeared later in the Pharmacopœia as compound camphor liniment.

By advertisements of various kinds, and by a number of startling cures, Ward attained astonishing success. George II. had unbounded faith in him. At his first interview with the King the latter had a dislocated thumb. Ward gave it a sharp wrench which incited some strong German from the monarch, but which put the thumb right. Subsequently George provided the quack with a room in his almonry at Whitehall, and paid him to treat poor people there. Ward bought besides three houses at Pimlico and converted them into a hospital where his remedies were administered, highborn ladies assisting in the conduct of this charity. His patients included Lord Chesterfield, Gibbon the historian, and Fielding the novelist, as well as a large number of titled persons of less permanent fame, and when he brought an action for libel against the _Grub Street Journal_ (which, however, he failed in) Reynolds, the Lord Chief Baron, and Horace Walpole were among his witnesses. In 1748 a Bill was introduced into Parliament to restrict the practice of medicine, and it contained a clause specially exempting Ward by name from its penalties.

Naturally the qualified members of the medical profession were irritated at the amazing prosperity of this charlatan. Queen Caroline, it was said, once asked General Churchill if it was true that Ward’s medicines had made a man mad. “Yes, Madam,” Churchill replied, “Mead.” Dr. Richard Mead was the King’s physician.

Ward retained his fame to the end of his life, and the King’s liberality made it possible to publish a collection of his recipes which his old friend John Page compiled after his death. But George’s tenderness to the memory of the great physic-monger did not go to the extent of fulfilling the desire expressed in his will, that he should be buried in Westminster Abbey, in front of the altar, or as near thereto as possible.

The story of Ward’s treatment of George II.’s thumb is thus told by Dr. George Henning in a note to Dr. Martin Listers “Journey to Paris” (this Vol., page 181): “George II being afflicted with a violent pain of the thumb which had baffled the skill of the faculty, sent for the noted Dr. Joshua Ward; who, having ascertained the nature of the complaint before he was admitted, provided himself with a suitable nostrum which he concealed in the hollow of his hand. On being introduced he requested permission to examine the affected part, and gave it so sudden a wrench that the King cursed him and kicked his shins. Ward bore this very patiently and when the King was cool respectfully asked him to move his thumb, which he did easily and found the pain gone.” In reply to the King’s offer to do something for him Ward diplomatically replied that the pleasure of serving his Majesty was quite sufficient reward, but he would be grateful if the King would do something for a nephew. The nephew was made an ensign in the Guards and Ward himself was presented with a carriage and pair of horses.

In the _Daily Advertiser_ of June 10th, 1736, a report is published of an attendance at the court at Kensington by the Queen’s appointment of Joshua Ward, Esq., with eight or ten persons who in extraordinary cases had received great benefit by taking his remedies. Her Majesty was accompanied by three surgeons and several persons of quality, the patients were examined, money was distributed to them, and Mr. Ward was congratulated on his success.

In Lord John Hervey’s “Memoirs of the Reign of George II” that eminent courtier (Pope’s “Lord Fanny”) relates that he gave Ward’s Pills to the Princess Caroline for rheumatic pains, and he remarks of them “an excellent medicine not only in rheumatics, but in several cases, which for being so all the physicians and surgeons endeavoured to decry.”

Ward is referred to in the newspapers of the day as “Spot Ward.” The nickname was acquired in consequence of a claret mark on one side of his face. Pope refers to him in the lines:

Of late, without the least pretence to skill, Ward’s grown a famed physician by a pill.

Ward bequeathed his book of secret formulas to his faithful friend and helper in his earlier troubles, John Page, M.P. Mr. Page was a wealthy man, and he decided to publish the recipes of those remedies which were most esteemed for “the noblest of all purposes, the common good of mankind.” So he states in introducing the pamphlet. But a difficulty occurred in respect of these formulas. They did not in all cases represent the medicines which the public had become accustomed to. They had been made for Ward by a Mr. John White, a manufacturing chemist of Twickenham, and a Mr. F. J. D’Osterman, who was probably an apothecary, and those two manufacturers alone knew the exact modifications which had been made in the preparations. In these circumstances the King (George II) consented in his “most benevolent disposition and extensive bounty” to make ample provision for these chemists. Whereupon the “Book of Secrets” was published. A depot for selling them was established, and a moderate tariff fixed at which those compounded by the chemists already named could be obtained, though, of course, anybody was at liberty to make similar preparations. Mr. Page provided that profits after paying expenses should be divided between an Orphan Asylum and a Magdalen Institution.

The following are the recipes for the fistula or pile paste and for the headache essence, both of which, being adopted in the Pharmacopœia, have some historic interest:--

Paste for the Fistula: Elecampane root, 1 lb.; fennel seeds, 3 lb.; black pepper, 1 lb. All in fine powder, mixed and sifted. Melt together 2 lb. each of honey and white sugar, and when this mixture is cool knead into it the prescribed powders. The dose was a piece the size of a nutmeg, to be taken morning, noon, and night, followed by a glass of water or white wine.

Essence for the Headache, etc.: French spirit of wine, 2 lb.; Roch alum in fine powder, 2 oz.; camphor, cut small, 4 oz.; essence of lemon, ½ oz.; strongest volatile spirit of sal ammoniac, 4 oz. A little of this essence was to be rubbed on the hand, and the hand was to be held hard to the part affected until it was dry. Ward told Mr. Page that it was this application which had cured George II’s thumb.

In a lecture on Hæmorrhoids delivered by Sir Benjamin Brodie at St. Georges Hospital, and reported in the _London Medical Gazette_, February 3, 1835, that eminent practitioner stated that he had often found the Confectio Piperis Co. (“similar to what was once very celebrated as Ward’s Paste”) successful when other simple expedients failed. He said it was rather disagreeable to take, tasted like a coarse gingerbread, and must be persevered in for a considerable time. He stated that one of the worst cases he ever knew was that of a lady who had consulted him, and he did not think it possible to cure her without an operation. She, however, was obliged to go into the country at the time, and as the operation must be delayed for a month at least, he recommended her to try Ward’s Paste meanwhile. She came back to him six or eight weeks later quite cured. He thought the remedy acted by passing into the colon and, becoming blended with the faeces, served as a local application.

THE WHITWORTH DOCTORS

are almost forgotten now, but a century ago they were famous all over England. The Whitworth red bottle and the Whitworth drops are still more or less popular reminiscences of their pharmacy. The former was an embrocation, and the second an antispasmodic tincture. Both contained oil of thyme. Formulas are given in “Pharmaceutical Formulas,” published at 42, Cannon Street.

The founder of the family of the Whitworth Doctors was John Taylor, originally a farrier, of Whitworth, then a village about three miles from Rochdale. He died in 1802 at the age of sixty-two. John Taylor had a younger brother and two sons, and the younger brother also had sons, all of whom practised surgery. A third and even a fourth generation of surgeons, some of whom were fully qualified, likewise practised at Whitworth, and the last of the race died in 1876.

The original brothers Taylor were both farriers, but they became famous for their treatment of human patients. Their methods were of the most vigorous character. They were in the habit of buying a ton of Glauber’s salts from their wholesale druggists, Ewbank and Wallis, of York, and they dispensed it to those who sought their medical advice with no niggard hands, and without any formality of weighing. The two brothers provided free bleeding for poor patients every Sunday morning, and something like a hundred victims attended for this operation.

John Taylor (the original “Doctor”) never discontinued his treatment of horse complaints, and was believed to have taken more pride and pleasure in his veterinary work than in his dealings with humans. But the latter flocked to him from all parts of the country. Cancers, improperly set fractures, and deformities were his specialities, but his practice gradually extended to all kinds of ills. A crowd of rich and poor patients had to find lodgings somehow in the village, for they sometimes had to stay for weeks there. Fifty at a time could be seated in the long room where John treated them. They came in at one end of the room and went out at the other, and no one, no matter what his rank, was allowed to have the slightest preference. Eighteen-pence a week for medicine and treatment was the charge to all, and those who could not afford that fee were never asked for it. A lord drove up in his carriage one day, and the powdered footman was sent to ask John Taylor to “wait upon his lordship.” “Tell the man he must come in here and take his turn like the rest, if he wants me to wait on him,” said John; and “the man” had to do so. It is recorded that he left Whitworth cured.

The other doctors used to tell of Taylor’s failures; but as his cases were mostly those which they had pronounced incurable, it is not astonishing if he did not always succeed. But he effected many notable cures. A lady with a cancer in the breast who had been given up by her own doctors came from a hundred miles away to Whitworth. John examined the breast, and then said, “What art thou come here for, woman?” “To be cured, of course,” she answered. “Not all the doctors in England can cure thee,” he said sternly; “thou must go home and die.” “I shall not go home,” said the lady, “till you have tried your hand on me. I can bear any pain you inflict, and I can only die at last.” “Thou art a brave lass,” said John; “I will try, and God prosper us.” The lady stayed at Whitworth six months, and went home cured. She lived thirty years longer.

This lady was well known to William Howitt, a Quaker and popular writer in the first half of the nineteenth century. In an article he wrote in Tait’s _Edinburgh Magazine_, 1839, Mr. Howitt relates recollections of a visit he had paid to Whitworth some twenty years previously, and from that visit, and from the conversations he had had with the lady just referred to, he had gathered the particulars which he gave in his article.

While under the care of Doctor John at Whitworth the lady told Mr. Howitt how she occupied herself in assisting “Mrs. George,” old John’s daughter-in-law, to prepare the medicines. Glauber’s salts were principally relied upon for internal administration. A caustic known as “keen” was used for eradicating cancers; a black salve made up into sticks; a snuff made from asarabacca leaves which he grew in his garden; blisters; and the Red Bottle, made up the medicinal armoury. The last is made still in Lancashire, thus: Camphor, 6; oil of origanum, 6; Anchusa root, 1; methylated spirit, 80.

The lady’s account of the preparation of the salve was that they used to boil a kettleful of ingredients, and then they would mop the kitchen floor. While it was wet they would pour the salve on it, and then scraping it up they would roll it into sticks with their fingers, and cut it into little pieces.

Howitt also describes seeing James Taylor, the head of the family, when he visited Whitworth, making his pills. In an old hat slung in front of him by a cord round his neck was his pill mass. Thus armed, he would walk up and down in front of his house nipping off bits of the mass and rolling them into pills with his fingers as he walked.

In his later years John Taylor sometimes visited patients in distant places. Once he went to attend a duchess at Cheltenham. She had an abscess which he opened and so relieved her at once. George III was staying at Cheltenham at the time, and heard of this skilful man. Later he sent for him to come to London to treat the Princess Elizabeth, who had pains in her head with fits of stupor. John is said to have cured her with his snuff. Having prescribed this and provided the patient with some, John Taylor turned to Queen Charlotte, who with her other daughters was in the room, and patting her on the back, said: “Well, thou art a farrantly (good-looking) woman to be the mother of all these straight-backed lasses.” “Ah, Mr. Taylor,” said the Queen, “I was once as straight-backed as any of them.” John’s son James was fond of telling this story.

Thurlow, Bishop of Durham, brother of Lord Chancellor Thurlow, was one of his patients, and John was once sent for to London to attend him. More than one eminent physician was in the room when Taylor arrived. “I won’t say a word till Jack Hunter is here,” said Dr. John; “he is the only man among you who knows anything.” Jack Hunter was the famous anatomist. When he was present, Taylor proceeded to examine the Bishop, and was applying some ointment from a box he had with him. “What’s that made of?” asked Hunter. “No, Jack, that’s not a fair question,” was Taylor’s reply. “I’ll send you as much of it as you like, but I won’t tell you what it’s made of.”

XXII

POISONS IN HISTORY

“To give an exact and particular account of the Nature and Manner of acting of Poisons is no easy matter; but to Discourse more intelligibly of them than authors have hitherto done, not very difficult.” (From Dr. Richard Mead’s Preface to his “Essays on Poisons,” 1702.)

It has been shown elsewhere (Vol. I., page 52) how intimate was the connection between ancient pharmacy and poisoning. In Greek the terms came to be almost synonymous, and there is an echo of the same association of ideas in the words Poison and Potion, which a few centuries ago were used in English without much distinction.

The priests of Egypt, the Æsculapians of Greece, and perhaps still more the herbalists of that country and of Italy, necessarily learnt many things from their studies of medicinal plants. They found herbs which would cause sleep, furnish dreams, and confuse the brain. They professed and perhaps believed in their ability to accomplish far more with their philtres than the vegetable world was capable of, but the common people had no means of checking their claims, and such science as there was tended to support them. In the palaces of kings, in the tents of generals, and in all the high places where intrigues, jealousies, and enmities found their fullest scope, pharmaceutical skill was much sought after; in some cases to dispose of rivals, but more usually to counteract the murderous schemes which in those times constituted so large a portion of statecraft. There was nothing the brave men of old dreaded so much as secret poisoning. It is impossible to say how far this crime was practised. Suspicion and terror may have exaggerated its records, but on the other hand it is equally possible that thousands of deaths may have occurred from poisons which were not attributed to that cause.

Hecate and her daughters Medea and Circe figured prominently in Greek legends as inventors and discoverers of poisons. The magic arts for which they were all famous were closely associated with deadly drugs. They were supposed to live in the island of Colchis, the name of which still recalls a vegetable which for many centuries retained the reputation of possessing the most venomous properties. Colchicum was discovered by Medea, but to Hecate is attributed the earliest use of aconite.