The patent for his fever powder was taken out in 1747. It is on record that Johnson introduced him to John Newbery, a noted bookseller of the time, who had a shop at the corner of St. Paul’s Churchyard and Ludgate Hill. Newbery became the agent and part proprietor of the medicine. It is still owned and prepared by the direct descendants of John Newbery, who carry on business in Charterhouse Square.

The specification of the patent directs to “Take antimony, calcine it with a continual protracted heat in a flat unglazed earthen vessel, adding to it from time to time a sufficient quantity of any animal oil and salt well dephlegmated; then boil it in melted nitre for a considerable time, and separate the powder from the nitre by dissolving it in water.” The doctor adds to his specification a process for a mercurial pill with antimony, made by amalgamating equal parts of martial regulus of antimony with “pure silver” (sic), adding a proportionable quantity of sal ammoniac, then distilling off the mercury and using it again. This performance was to be repeated nine or ten times, the mercury being at last dissolved in spirits of nitre (nitric acid), distilled to dryness, the caput mortuum calcined till it was of a golden colour, and this powder, after spirits of wine had been burnt upon it, was ready to be made into pills. Dr. James gave the moderate dose of the antimonial powder at 30 grains, and that of the mercurial at 1 grain.

Paris says that James “usually combined his antimonial powder with some mercurial, and always followed it up with large doses of bark.” He suggests that the adjuncts largely accounted for the success of the medicine.

The fever powder acquired great fame in James’s lifetime, and after his death imitations were numerous. One of these is of interest because of an advertisement against it written by Dr. Johnson. The man who ventured to imitate the genuine product was named Hawes, and he had once been in the employment of Dr. James. He professed that he had learned how to make the powder during his service, but Dr. James signed an affidavit against his pretensions a short time before his death. Later Hawes asserted that when the doctor made that affidavit he was not in the possession of his mental faculties. To this Francis Newbery replied by an advertisement quoting affidavits by many of James’s patients and acquaintances. A paragraph was appended which Newbery himself stated was written by Dr. Johnson, and as a section of literature rather foreign to the famous author, it seems worthy of reproduction. It ran thus:—

In 1774 Dr. James patented an “analeptic pill.” It was composed of his own fever powder with pil. rufi and gum ammoniacum, the last two ingredients to be dissolved in an underground cave furnished with the conductors of electric fire.

The first official substitute for James’s powder was introduced into the London Pharmacopœia of 1787. The formula was devised by a Dr. Higgins, and the experiments were made in the laboratory of the Society of Apothecaries. It was composed of equal parts of tersulphuret of antimony and hartshorn shavings. This was found to be stronger than the original, and further experiments were made for the College by Dr. Pearson, who reported in 1791 that James’s powder consisted of about equal parts of oxide of antimony and phosphate of lime. The formulas in the London Pharmacopœias of 1809 and 1824 were consequently reduced in strength, one part of the antimonial salt with two parts of horn shavings being substituted. The ingredients were heated to redness in a crucible and afterwards powdered. For the Pharmacopœia of 1851, Mr. Richard Phillips experimented, and mainly confirmed Dr. Pearson’s results. The formula remained as in 1824. Meanwhile the Edinburgh Pharmacopœia continued to adopt the stronger combination, while the Dublin Pharmacopœia prescribed a different preparation altogether, tartarised antimony and phosphate of soda solutions being mixed, and a precipitate consisting of teroxide of antimony and phosphate of lime being produced by precipitation by the addition of a solution of chloride of calcium and ammonia. This was a modification of a process advocated by Chevenix in a paper published in Phil. Trans., 1801. His process was recommended by Abernethy and many other of the leading practitioners of his time. In the British Pharmacopœias the simple formula of one part of antimonious oxide and two parts of calcium phosphate has been adopted. The name of Dr. James’s Powder as a synonym has now been dropped.

It has been suspected that Dr. James did not actually invent the powder, but adopted it from an Italian recipe which was certainly popular when he introduced it. In Colborne’s “English Dispensatory,” published in 1756, directions are given for making Mr. Lisle’s Powder for Fevers, sent to the author, he says, by a friend in Italy. Hartshorn shavings are to be boiled in a large quantity of water for six hours; the water is then to be strained off, the hartshorn to be dried by a slow fire, and finely powdered. Equal weights of this and of diaphoretic antimony are to be heated in a crucible, stirring all the time with a long iron, for eight hours or as long as it smokes. This powder is said to have been in great reputation for some years, having been successful in cases when hardly any hope seemed left. Twenty grains is indicated as a moderate dose at not less than six hours’ interval, and it is noted that the first and second doses often cause vomiting.

Whether this was the original of James’s invention or not it may be presumed that the formula was a guide to those doctors and chemists who were busying themselves with the analysis of his powder. Another claim of precedence was made by a patent medicine dealer of London named William Baker, who alleged that Dr. James’s process was an infringement of a patent or at least a copy of a formula invented by a German named Schwanberg.

Medical opinion has varied concerning the relative merits of the proprietary medicine and its official imitation. Christison in his Dispensatory (1842) expresses an opinion which was very generally held at least in his time when he says, “No one can deny that the antimonial powder of the Pharmacopœias is an irregular preparation inferior in activity as well as certainty to the nostrum sold by Dr. James’s representatives.” Some dispensers will recollect that up to recent years it was not at all unusual for prescribers specially to order “Pulvis Jacobi Vera.”

That Dr. James was a man of great ability and industry is testified by his great Dictionary and also by his “Pharmacopœia Universalis or New English Dispensatory.” The latter is a most valuable guide to the Pharmacy of the eighteenth century, and is not only full in its information but particularly advanced in much of its criticism.

It may be of interest to add that the famous novelist G. P. R. James was a grandson of the Doctor.

St. John Long’s Liniment.

John St. John Long after he became famous was always reticent about his origin; but it was believed that he was the son of a basket maker, some said of the name of Driscoll, that he was born in or near Doneraile, and in his youth assisted his father: that later, being possessed of some artistic talent, he practised as a portrait painter in Dublin and afterwards in Limerick. An advertisement appeared in a Limerick paper of Feb. 10, 1821, which was as follows:—

The advertisement went on to announce that specimens might be seen at his (the artist’s) residence, 116, George’s St. He was also willing to take views in the country, and would give instructions “to a limited number of pupils of respectability.” He succeeded fairly well in Limerick, but evidently not well enough to satisfy his ambition.

He is next found in London, where he got some employment from Sir Thomas Lawrence, assisting him in his studio; was elected a member of the Royal Society of Literature, also of the Royal Asiatic Society. One of his occupations was to colour anatomical drawings for the professors and pupils of one of the minor surgical schools of London. This perhaps suggested the opening of his brilliant career as an unqualified doctor.

His treatment consisted of the application of a liniment, and the inhalation of a vapour. The liniment had the extraordinary virtue of selecting between sound and unsound tissues. If the part to which it was applied was healthy no effect would be produced; but if there were seeds of disease beneath the surface the liniment might be relied upon to draw out the virus which could then be easily disposed of; thus tubercles on the lungs were extracted and the disease cured. Consumption was the principal disease which Long professed to treat; but gout, rheumatism, palsy, liver disorders, and other frequent complaints were dealt with by him. He was a handsome Irishman with fascinating manners, and the gift of inducing confidence. His consulting rooms in Harley Street were crowded, chiefly by ladies, from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., and all the day patients were seated round a piece of furniture which looked like a piano but from which a number of tubes extruded supplied with mouth pieces from which they were inhaling or smoking the medicated vapour. Hopeless cases he declined; those which he preferred were those which were in the imaginary stage.

At the height of his popularity St. John Long was making an income of over £13,000 a year (Gent. Mag. 1843). That was in 1829. The next year, 1830, he was tried for manslaughter, a young Irish lady, Miss Catherine Cushin, having died after, and it was alleged in consequence of, his treatment. A number of aristocratic patients gave evidence in his favour, and Mr. Justice Park, who tried him, summed up strongly on his behalf. But the jury found him guilty, and he was sentenced to pay a fine of £250 or to be imprisoned until the money was paid. Long ostentatiously produced a roll of notes, counted out the amount, and then drove off from the court in the Marquis of Sligo’s carriage. Next year a coroner’s jury returned another verdict of manslaughter against him in connection with the death of a Mrs. Lloyd. He was again tried but on this occasion was acquitted. Strong articles against him appeared in many of the principal newspapers, but his aristocratic clients as a rule remained faithful to him. He published a book in defence of his system and included in it a number of extraordinary testimonials, together with a series of smart attacks on the medical profession. He retained his popularity to the last; but it was not to be for long. He was attacked by the disease over which he had claimed to exercise so much power, and he died from consumption in 1837 in the 37th year of his age. A graceful monument was erected in Kensal Green Cemetery to his memory by his patients and admirers “to show how much its inhabitant was respected by those who knew his worth, and the benefits derived from his remedial discovery.” His estate became the subject of a lengthy litigation, the principal claimant being an elderly woman of evidently humble surroundings, who, it was proved, was his lawful wife. He had married her when a lad, but had afterwards induced her to agree to an amicable separation. It was then remembered how steadfastly the charlatan had resisted the blandishments of his society friends, many of whom in very high circles had shown their infatuation with the attractive Irishman.

The formula and good will in the liniment were ultimately sold for ten thousand pounds, but it does not seem to have retained its popularity after the personality of its inventor had been removed. Nevertheless it possessed certain properties which were thought by some of its users to be little short of miraculous. For example, when applied to the skin the particular part where the pain was most severe would develop redness quicker than the other parts. In the course of a little time, the rubbing being continued, a fluid varying in colour according, as was believed, to the nature of the illness, would ooze from the skin, though the cuticle remained unbroken. Lastly, the treatment being still continued, the part affected would gradually resume its healthy appearance. In the Lancet of June 23, 1838, may be found the report of a meeting of the “Medico-Botanic Society,” held on the 13th of that month, at which Dr. Macreight communicated the result of an investigation into the composition of this famous liniment, an imitation of which had been made by himself and Mr. Fownes, the well-known chemist. The explanation of the analysis was accompanied by a good many disparaging comments on Long, and suggestions that there was nothing very wonderful about his liniment after all. The formula which Dr. Macreight and Mr. Fownes devised for a liniment which they said corresponded exactly with the quack compound was as follows:—

Yolk of one egg; pure oil of turpentine, 1½ oz.; strong acetic acid, 1 oz.; distilled water, 3 oz.

Dr. Macreight notices one of St. John Long’s recommendations to apply a cabbage leaf to the skin when the discharge had been obtained, and remarks “this in many respects is superior to a common cataplasm, which is clumsy and dries up rapidly; but of course no regular practitioner would employ cabbage leaves while the simple and elegant contrivance, lint covered with oiled silk, was within his reach.” Perhaps if a medical man had constructed the cabbage leaf, it might have been also regarded as “a simple and elegant contrivance.”

Seignette’s Salts.

(Soda Tartarata, Sodii potassio-tartras, Rochelle salts, Sel de Seignette, Sal polychrestum Seignette.)

Peter Seignette was an apothecary at Rochelle in the later half of the seventeenth century. He had at least a local scientific reputation, and a paper of his describing certain remarkable natural products of his locality was printed in the “Transactions” of the Academy of Sciences of Paris. A little before 1672 Seignette was making some soluble tartar (tartrate of potash), and inadvertently used carbonate of soda with the cream of tartar instead of carbonate of potash. At that time the distinction between the fixed alkalies had not been discovered. The product was a salt different from that which he had expected, and Seignette was ready to believe that he had made a valuable discovery. He ascertained that his new salt had laxative properties, he called it Sal Polychrestum, and advertised it by means of prospectuses, or handbills. From one of these it appears that he sold it at “20 sols la prise,” say 10d. for a dose. Each dose was sold in an envelope on which appeared the design of a goose. One of the prospectuses states that Seignette’s salt was sold in Paris by Lemery, but another refers customers to the “Messieurs Seignette, at present at Paris, lodging on the Quay de le Megisserie.”

Peter Seignette died in 1716, and his son continued to sell the powder. Many attempts to analyse it were made by pharmacists, but it remained a secret until 1731 in which year both Boulduc and Geoffroi, both noted pharmaciens of Paris, solved the problem. Boulduc’s paper on the subject was published in the Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences, Paris, and Geoffroi sent his account to Sir Hans Sloane of London and it was published in the “Philosophical Transactions,” (436, p. 37).

Sal Polychrestum (salt of many virtues) was a name which had been adopted a few years before Seignette made his, by Christopher Glaser, apothecary to Louis XIV. and the Duke of Orleans. Seignette’s salt pushed Glaser’s out of popularity to some extent, so that the latter is generally designated Sal Polychrestum Glaseri in the old books. Glaser made his preparation by mixing nitre and sulphur in equal proportions, then putting the mixture, a spoonful at a time, into a red-hot crucible. The powder would deflagrate, and the next spoonful was not to be added until the flame of the first had gone out. The mixture was kept in fusion for four or five hours, and after cooling was dissolved, the solution filtered and evaporated to dryness. Sulphate of potash with perhaps a little free sulphur was produced, and this has long represented Glaser’s Sal Polychrestum or Sal de Duobus, as it was also called.

Seignette’s salt was first admitted into the London Pharmacopœia of 1788 under the name of Natron Tartarizatum which was altered in 1809 to Soda Tartarizata.

Singleton’s Golden Eye Ointment.

An allusion to this renowned proprietary preparation will be found under Citrine Ointment, this Vol., page 126, in connection with the several discordant guesses as to its composition which have been published by eminent authorities. The ointment is mentioned in this section also because of its long history. According to the statement published by its present proprietor it is the oldest proprietary remedy still sold in this country. The present proprietor, Mr. Stephen Green, inherited it from his grandfather of the same name who died in 1874. He acquired the property by marrying (in 1825) Selina Folgham, who brought to him one-fifth share in the rights as a part of her marriage settlement, and after her death in 1831 the elder Stephen Green bought up the shares of other relatives. This Selina Folgham was a daughter of another Selina Folgham, née Singleton, granddaughter of Thomas Singleton who died in 1779, and whose tomb, I understand, may still be seen in Lambeth churchyard. This Thomas Singleton was the first of the Singletons. Before his time the ointment appears to have been known as “Dr. Johnson’s Golden Ointment,” and the present owners claim that it was first made by a “Dr. Johnson” in 1596, and that it was left by him to a certain George Hind whose great-granddaughter married the Thomas Singleton already mentioned.

Mrs. Stephens’s Cure for Stone.

Perhaps the most notable recognition of a nostrum in English history was the Act of Parliament passed in 1739 entitled “An Act for providing a reward to Joanna Stephens upon a proper discovery to be made by her for the use of the publick of the Medicines prepared by her for the Cure of the Stone.”

Mrs. Stephens was a widow and professed to have received the recipe from her late husband. A number of persons in the higher classes of society had been cured, or believed they had been, by taking her remedy, and in the year 1738 a movement was started to buy the formula from her for the benefit of the public. This was specially advocated in the Gentleman’s Magazine, and the lady being approached expressed her willingness to sell the recipe for £5,000. An account was opened at Drummond’s Bank, and £500 was subscribed in the first few days. Dr. David Hartley, of Bath, was the chief organiser of the fund, and the Bishop of Bath and Wells, the Principal of Brasenose College, Oxford, and other responsible persons wrote letters testifying their knowledge of the good effects produced by Mrs. Stephens’s treatment. Hartley published an account of “Ten Cases of Persons who have taken Mrs. Stephens’s Medicines for Stone.” When Hartley died Warburton in his letters referred to him as “a philanthropic visionary, a martyr to Mrs. Stephens’s medicine.” It is said in some accounts that Horace Walpole was one of Mrs. Stephens’s cures.

The subscription list was kept going until the end of the year, and though it included dukes, earls, bishops, and several doctors of medicine, only a total of £1,356 3s. was promised. Evidently some strong influence was therefore brought to bear on the Government, for early in the next year the Act referred to was passed and the trustees named in the Act being satisfied that Mrs. Stephens had made the full discovery required, the £5,000 was duly paid to her.

Mrs. Stephens’s “full discovery” was published in the London Gazette of June 19, 1739. It was very full indeed. Omitting superfluous details it ran as follows:—

“My medicines consist of a powder, decoction and pills. The powder is made by first taking hens’ egg-shells, cleaning and drying them, crushing them up in the hands, and putting them into a three-pint crucible, lightly, so that they will fill about three-fourths of its capacity. Cover the crucible with a tile and place it in the midst of a strong, clear fire, above and below. Keep the crucible in the fire until the egg-shells are calcined to a greyish-white, and have acquired an acrid, salt taste. This will need eight hours at least. The calcined shells are to be kept in a dry, clean, open earthenware pan, about three parts filled, in a dry room for two months exactly. They will then have become of a milder taste and the part which is sufficiently calcined will be in a powder of such fineness that it will pass through a hair sieve, which has to be done.

“In like manner take garden snails with their shells, cleaned from dirt, put them in a crucible whole, put the crucible in the fire as before, and keep it there until the snails have done smoaking, which will be about one hour. They are then to be rubbed to a fine powder in a mortar, the two powders are to be mixed, sifted through a cypress sieve, bottled in close-stopped bottles, and kept in a dry place for use.”

“I have generally added a small quantity of Swines-Cresses, burnt to a blackness and rubbed fine, but this was only with a view to disguise it,” adds the lady, conscientiously.

“The egg-shells may be prepared at any time of the year, but it is best to do them in summer. The snails ought only to be prepared in May, June, July, or August, and I esteem those best which are done in the first of those months.”

The decoction was made by beating 4½ oz. of best alicant soap in a mortar with a large spoonful of Swines-Cresses burnt to blackness, and as much honey as would make the whole of the consistence of a paste. Make this into a ball. This ball was to be sliced and boiled for half an hour in two quarts of soft water, with 1 oz. each of chamomile flowers, sweet fennel, parsley, and burdock leaves. The boiled liquid to be strained and sweetened with honey.

The pills were to be made of equal quantities by measure of snails calcined as before, wild carrot seeds, burdock seeds, ashen-keys, hips and haws, all burnt to blackness, “or which is the same thing, till they have done smoaking.” The mixed powders to be passed through a cypress sieve, and a large spoonful or 4 oz. of best alicant soap, and a sufficiency of honey added to make pills; each ounce of the mass to be divided into sixty pills.

One dram (avoirdupois) of the powder was to be taken three times a day in a large teacupful of white wine, cyder, or small punch, and half a pint of the decoction had to be drunk after each dose. If the medicine caused much pain an opiate was to be given. The bowels were to be kept regular with lenitive electuary or some other laxative. The pills were to be given in fits of gravel or suppression of urine, five every hour; or ten or fifteen might be taken daily to prevent formation of gravel stones in constitutions subject to breed them.

Salt meats, red wine, and milk were to be avoided. The patient was to take as few liquids as possible, and to have but little exercise. The object aimed at was that the urine might be impregnated with the medicine, which would then dissolve the calcareous deposits.

Mrs. Stephens died in 1774. The publication of her formula undoubtedly stimulated investigation into the employment of alkaline medicines in the treatment of stone, but her “cases” were not substantiated by later evidence. One in particular was that of a man who was experimented on while the proposal to buy the recipe was under consideration. He was unquestionably suffering from stone, and he soon improved and in time seemed to be quite cured after taking the remedies. After his death examination showed that the stone was still in his bladder; but it had made for itself a little sac in which it was so tightly embedded that it never caused any inconvenience.

Pereira, summing up the evidence in regard to the Stephens’ treatment, says it cannot be doubted that many patients obtained relief from the remedies, “but no cure was effected; that is, no calculus was dissolved. For in the bladder of each of the four persons whose cure was certified by the trustees the stone was found after their death.” I have not traced the report of the four cases; only of the one referred to above.

Earl of Rochester as Quack.

The witty but profligate Earl of Rochester, well known in history as the boon companion of Charles II, especially in his debaucheries, frequently gave offence to that monarch by his impudence or his sarcasms. His best known epigram is that referring to

On several occasions Rochester was ordered to leave the Court, but Charles always sent for him to come back again. In one of these absences it is recorded that he took lodgings in Tower Street under the name of Alexander Bindo and practised for a time as a quack doctor. It is believed that he had a stall on Tower Hill on which he spread an assortment of remedies and cosmetics, and that he especially cultivated the patronage of women, to whom he gave advice. This must have been about the year 1677. In a book published in 1710, giving the poetical works and speeches of Sir Charles Sedley by Captain Ayloff, is printed a copy of what purports to be one of Rochester’s harangues on Tower Hill. No evidence of its authenticity is offered, and as the Earl was undoubtedly gifted with a glib tongue and plenty of talent it would seem unlikely that he would trouble himself to write out, or if he did write it, to preserve such rubbish. The “Dictionary of National Biography,” however, alludes to it without questioning its genuineness, but does not quote any part of it. The following specimens of the Earl’s alleged patter are quoted from an old part of Notes and Queries:—

“I am the famed Paracelsus of the age, by name Segnior Doloso Euprontorio, son of that wonder-working Chymist lately deceased in Alsatia and famed through all Europe, Asia, Africa, and America; from the oriental exaltation of Titan to his occidental declination, who in pity to his own dear self and other mortals has by the prayers and solicitations of divers Kings, Emperors, Princes, Lords, Gentlemen, and other Personages been prevailed with to oblige the world with notice to all persons, young and old, lame and blind, that they may know where to repair for their speedy cure in all Cephalgies, Orantalgies, Paralitical Paroxysms, Rheumatisms, Gout, Fevers, Fractures, Dislocations, and all other Distempers incident to the human Body, external or internal, acute or chronic, curable or incurable.

“My medicines are the Quintessence of Pharmaceutical Energy; the Cures I have done are beyond the art of the whole World.

“I have an excellent hypontical, captical, odoriferous, carminative, renovative, stiptical, corroboratory Balsam of Balsams, made of dead men’s fat, rosin, and goose grease. It is the true Pharmacopœia of Hermes Trismegistus, the true Pentemagogon of the triple kingdom, which works seven several ways, and is seven years preparing, which being exactly completed secundem artem by Fermentations, Solutions, Sublimations, Putrefactions, Rectifications, and Quidlibelifications in Balnea Mariæ in the Crucible, becomes Nature’s Palladium, Health’s Magazine. One drachm of which is worth a Bushel of March dust. For if any of you chance to have your heads cut off or your brains beat out, ten drops of this seasonably applied will recall the fleeting spirits reigning through the deposed Archeus, and in six minutes will restore the departed Life to its pristine vigour with all its functions, vital, rational and animal.”

The quack goes on to recount some of his cures. Among them were the god-mother of Prester John of a stupendous Dolor in her Os Sacrum; the Empress of Boolampoo of a Cramp she got in her tongue by eating Pork and buttered parsnips; an Alderman of Grand Cairo of a scarlet burning raging fever of which he died; the Emperor of Morocco, who lay seven years sick of the plague and was cured in 42 minutes so that he danced the Saraband, Flip-flap, and Somerset.

The orator announced that he was to be found at the Golden Ball in Fop Alley whenever he was not on Tower Hill; for he had devoted himself wholly to serve the Public.

Warburg’s Tincture.

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:

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.”