A doctor enjoys Sherlock Holmes

The colorful story of The Adventure of the Creeping Man has always especially interested me, for the theme embraces the fascinating field of endocrinology. The plot revolves around Professor Presbury, the Camford physiologist, who is portrayed as a biological scientist of international renown. It is in order to review briefly the setting of the story.

Professor Presbury, a widower in his early sixties, had fallen madly in love with a very young girl, the daughter of one of his colleagues. During the course of the love affair, he began to show pronounced changes in personality; he became secretive, highly irritable at intervals, and on occasion even savage. When this portly and dignified physiologist began to do such astounding things as walking on all fours and swinging on the ivy-covered walls with the abandon and agility of an ape, he naturally caused grave concern to his only daughter Edith and to his associate Mr. Bennett, Edith’s fiancé. Furthermore, the professor’s heretofore faithful wolfhound Roy had tried to attack his master on several occasions. Events came to such a pass that Mr. Bennett and Miss Presbury asked Sherlock Holmes to make an investigation.

Holmes summoned Dr. Watson to 221B Baker Street one night in September, and casually announced that he was seriously considering writing a monograph on the uses of dogs in detective work. He observed that the action of a dog often reflects family life, and gave as an illustration the case on which he was presently working. He believed that the changed behavior of the wolfhound toward his master might prove to be an important clue in solving the mystery. In point of fact, this eventually proved to be true.

During this discussion, Mr. Bennett called on Sherlock Holmes and, in the presence of Dr. Watson, reviewed the strange actions of the professor and the dog’s attitude toward his master. He brought out the important information that it was every ninth day when Presbury acted so abnormally. With this latter fact in mind, it was not difficult for Sherlock Holmes to arrange to be on hand at a time when the professor would probably perform again his astonishing antics.

Accordingly, one night Holmes and Watson secreted themselves in the shrubbery in the professor’s extensive yard and awaited events. Holmes had previously instructed Mr. Bennett to follow secretly his future father-in-law should he venture out on this particular night. Their vigil was rewarded, for about midnight the famous physiologist emerged from his house clad in his dressing gown. To the astonishment of his onlookers, he began walking on all fours. Dr. Watson describes his further antics. The professor, with surprising agility, began to ascend the ivy-colored walls, springing aimlessly from branch to branch, but apparently hugely enjoying his singular powers. He finally tired of thus disporting himself, came down to the ground, and moving along on his hands and feet, made his way to the barn where Roy was tethered. Remaining at a safe distance, he deliberately teased the dog until the infuriated beast, having managed to slip his collar, sank his teeth into the neck of the unfortunate professor. The two onlookers, with the help of Bennett, rushed to the rescue; without their intervention, the dog doubtless would have killed his master.

Holmes had been working quietly on the case and had discovered that Presbury, in his desire to regain the vigor of his youth, had connived with an obscure Prague scientist who was attempting to unravel the secret of rejuvenescence. Holmes found that this individual was attacking the problem by studying the physiologic effects on man of the administration of serum obtained from certain apes. The serum he had prescribed for Professor Presbury had been prepared from the langur, a large black-faced monkey which lives on the slopes of the Himalayas. Holmes emphasized that the langur was both a climber and a crawler. The implication is obvious; it accounts for the professor’s mode of progression and his agility as a climber.

Holmes, discussing the case later with Watson, remarked that it was the untimely love affair with the young girl which had given the professor the idea of trying to turn himself into a younger man. Holmes also commented on the strange behavior of the wolfhound; he felt the dog had turned on his master because he thought it was a monkey he was attacking.

The theme of this story is of interest particularly to biologically trained men. About the time it was written, there was a great deal of interest in the possibility of rejuvenation by the transplantation of testicular glands or by an injection of their extract. The work of Steinach and of Voronoff, the European physiologists, had received immoderate publicity.

The real pioneer in the study of rejuvenation was, of course, Charles-Edouard Brown-Séquard (1818-94), who reported the results of his experiments in June 1889 before the Société de Biologie. This brilliant French psychologist during the course of the preceding fortnight had administered to himself six subcutaneous injections of the water extract of ground-up testicles of dogs or of guinea pigs. He was then seventy-two years old. He enthusiastically reported that the effects had been astonishingly beneficial, and firmly believed that both his physical forces and his mental activities were enormously improved. He claimed that he felt less fatigued at the end of the day, which was quite important to him, since he spent long hours in his laboratory.

Brown-Séquard had such an enviable reputation as a scientist that testicular extracts at once became widely and indiscriminately used. The idea spread like wildfire. More than twelve thousand physicians were administering testicular extracts to their patients before the end of the year. Some of the more conservative physicians in England and in the United States, however, were highly critical of Brown-Séquard’s recent researches. They spoke derisively of the extract as “senile folly,” “elixir of youth,” and made other uncomplimentary remarks. In fairness to Brown-Séquard, it should be stated that he realized the extract was not a panacea for all illnesses. But he did feel, up to the time of his death, which occurred four years later, that testicular extracts built up what he termed “nervous force.”

It is now recognized by modern endocrinologists that the distinguished Brown-Séquard had not controlled his experiments well. The testicular extracts he used were probably inactive. If I may be technical about it, he had made an aqueous extract which would leave behind the hormones, which are fat soluble. It is known also that some of the claims made by Steinach and by Voronoff were grossly exaggerated.

It is possible that people who are not familiar with the science of endocrinology might gain the impression that the administration of ape serum could produce the effects so vividly described in The Adventure of the Creeping Man. The concept that such a serum exists is, of course, rank nonsense. Even though the tale is incredible, I confess that I have always enjoyed reading it. This may be because it is a story about a physiologist—and an unusual physiologist, for he was also extremely wealthy. Parenthetically, mention should be made that the story actually touches on science-fiction, which is at present so much in vogue.

The theme of rejuvenation has been used by numerous authors. One story which comes to mind is the novel Black Oxen, written by the late Gertrude Atherton, and published many years ago. This book was widely read. The story, of course, was actually in the nature of science-fiction.

The subject of the renewal of youth is not as popular as it was some years ago. There are still a few charlatans in the medical profession who take advantage of the public and prescribe gonadal therapy irrationally and even indiscriminately. These misguided medical men make wild promises as to the permanent benefits to be derived from administration of gonadal extracts. Indeed, there have been a few such doctors in the United States, and one, at least, is reported to have amassed a fortune. A few of these men have acted in good faith, and we may charitably assume they believed that the administration of gonadal extracts stimulated the libido of their patients or enabled them to lead a more strenuous life. Be that as it may, many such practitioners have acted on slender evidence, and they surely have, in a large measure, the will to believe.

Since the time Dr. Watson wrote The Adventure of the Creeping Man, there have been highly important developments in gonadal therapy. Testosterone, for example, a preparation from the male gonads, is presently widely used and has a definite place in the therapeutic armamentarium of any reputable physician. There are other preparations, such as the estrogenic substances and progesterone, which have therapeutic uses. These latter substances are extracted from the female gonads. It would take us too far afield to elaborate on these or to give the indication for their uses. There is good reason to believe that there will be many new developments in this particular field, for the science of endocrinology is still in its infancy.