HYDROPATHY, (continued 2)
Reading edition
“If there be danger at all, it is going into cold water without raising the temperature of the body. It must be the temperature that is the question; for it cannot be of consequence whether the body be covered with grease called perspiration or hog’s-lard. Re-action will most certainly be produced, and congestion as certainly prevented by going into the water when the body is warm. Profuse perspiration does not make the body hotter, in proportion to its profuseness, on the contrary, it is cooler than before, for perspiration is a cooling process.
“When perspiration is present, the body is never extremely hot. Checking perspiration is a chimerical danger; the oozing of perspiration subsides of itself, almost at the moment the means that produced it are withdrawn, and the perspiration on the body is that which has been already produced, having now no connection with the body.”
At Cork in Ireland, it was told me by one of the first brewers, that formerly his men, while in a state of perspiration, from pressing the grain out of the vats, frequently caught cold and died: at last they adopted the plan of going into cold water, whilst in that state; the result of which has been that they now never catch cold from their occupation, and are as healthy as other people.
XIII.—The Packing Sheet, and Sweating Process.
Take all the coverings off the bed, arrange the pillows, cover over the bed and pillows with a large thick blanket, then put a small sheet into a pail of fresh cold water; if to reduce fever, let it be wrung out less; if there is no fever, more; the drier the sheet, the sooner the re-action; spread this sheet so wrung out, on the blanket.
The patient extends himself, divested of every thing, upon the sheet, which should be brought over him as soon as possible. The blanket is now brought over the sheet, and the attendant tucks it in, beginning with the neck, as tightly as possible, so that his patient can hardly move hand or foot. Other blankets are then added, separately tucked in, and turned up at the feet. Half-a-dozen blankets are not too many; and to produce immediate heat, a feather bed is superadded, leaving the head free. It is astonishing what an amount of covering one may support without inconvenience.
The great object is so to envelop the body as to exclude the air, and prevent evaporation, in order that its own heat may be concentrated upon itself.
In ordinary cases, the sheet is well wrung out, and covered up as before stated; but in cases of severe fever, the wet is only covered with a single dry one. In cases of very great delicacy, but not in fever, the sheet is put into tepid water instead of cold.
This has by some been called a general poultice, as it performs upon the whole body what a poultice or the bandages effect upon members of it. Dr. Alexander of Newcastle terms it a linen bath.
That wet linen should produce good and evil results appears paradoxical. Damp beds are said to lead to injurious consequences, whilst wet linen applied as a covering to the whole or parts of the body, produces the most happy effects.
Accustomed as Priessnitz is to witnessing none but the best results from the application of damp linen, he could not be persuaded that mischief arose even from lying in damp beds.
In the Hydropathic practice the body is so hermetically enclosed in the wet sheet, that not a particle of heat can escape or external air penetrate, by which means the exhalation is concentrated upon the body; this may be termed a linen bath or fomentation.
In the case of people being accidentally put into a damp bed, none of the above precautions are taken; there is no extra clothing, no binding about the neck to prevent the escape of caloric, and therefore to these causes must be attributed the mischief, if any ensue.
It is, however, a question, where mischief follows, whether one-twentieth part of the cases can be fairly attributed to the damp beds. It is highly probable that Priessnitz’s surmise of its being the development of a disease lurking in the system which under the Water-cure might easily be met, is correct.
Wet sheets are resorted to in all fevers, and changed until the paroxysm is abated. In Typhus, the sheet is changed every ten minutes, and as often as forty or fifty times in a day.
As a general rule, Mr. Priessnitz told me, if unwell, without waiting to know the ailment—to take a packing-sheet, until warm, twice a day, followed by a tepid bath.
Packing-sheets may be persevered in for years in obstinate cases. The usual time employed in their application is until the body is warm, which will be from twenty-five to forty minutes. It is a great mistake to suppose the application of the sheet is to produce perspiration. If a genial heat pervades the body, it is all that is required, unless under peculiar circumstances, previous to immersion in either tepid or cold water.
The following anecdote, told me by Major Beavan, is adduced as corroborative evidence in favour of the use of wet linen to lower the temperature of the body. In 1821, the Major having to pass through extensive jungles to join his regiment in the East Indies, a distance of nearly 300 miles, caught a fever. When at the highest stage of the hot fit, it occurred to him that he might cool himself as they did wine and other liquids in that climate. He accordingly had himself wrapped up in a wet sheet for a quarter of an hour, when, finding himself relieved, he added a number of coverings, and fell into a most refreshing sleep of some hours. On awaking, he found mind, body, and appetite restored, all of which had been prostrated to an extreme degree for several days.
The packing-sheet is the greatest sedative known. It generally occurs that persons who, from pain or nervous excitement, have not slept for nights, doze off immediately on being enveloped in the wet sheet.
The packing-sheet brings morbific matter to the surface, and thereby relieves the capillaries. The ablution which follows acts as a tonic.
The relief afforded to the overcharged system through the pores, by the application of the packing-sheet, may be compared to the emptying of a bason with a sponge; each sheet absorbing a certain amount of morbific matter and superfluous animal heat, until the body is relieved.
In fevers generally, the fœtid odour of the sheet when withdrawn, is hardly to be endured; and in eruptive fevers, the inclination to scratch the body is allayed, and very little inconvenient sensation is felt either night or day.
In the morning, when fever is most felt, wet sheets and tepid baths allay it; and in the afternoon, any return of it is again subdued as before. The discovery of the wet sheet alone is sufficient to render the name of Priessnitz immortal.
But when, by these means, it would be difficult to produce perspiration, recourse is previously had to a dripping or rubbing-sheet, and then the patient is packed up; or the blanket is warmed before a fire, before the body is enveloped in it.
The sweating process, when used, is always succeeded by a tepid or cold bath, or a dripping-sheet: if a tepid bath, cold water is afterwards poured over the head and shoulders; but if a dripping-sheet, it is repeated until the body is cooled.
Every day’s practice at Gräfenberg, and elsewhere, shews that no danger attends going into cold water in a heated state.
But Mr. Priessnitz, whether from having a different class of patients, or from the difficulty of getting servants to understand when the patient had perspired enough, or the conviction that the same or better results attend the packing sheet, we know not, has changed his practice, and no longer resorts so frequently to the sweating process. The following extract is from a letter received by the author from a gentleman who has been a long time at Gräfenberg.
“The object of all Hydropathic appliances may be shortly and intelligibly defined, as assisting Nature to regain that ascendancy by which she of her own accord will throw off what is offensive to her. The practitioner ought therefore to strengthen her in every possible way; and we have the latest discoveries of science as a guarantee that the present (the packing or wet-sheet process) method of carrying out the cure effectuates this end more completely than any other; what therefore is opposed to that, is so much drawn from the strength which it is the object to promote, and inasmuch as sweating, however it may tend to alleviate, undoubtedly weakens, it is a counteracting agency.
“Priessnitz is reaping the benefit of twenty years’ experience. He follows still as he always followed (as far as it was possible for him to read and understand) the mysteries of his great mistress, Nature. Chance, I imagine, has in no way guided his choice; it may have assisted him in interpreting some of the revelations of this great spirit, but he has always had the same unerring basis on which to establish his system. Through imperfect light he may have sweated for a time, but the still small voice of truth has never ceased to whisper in his ear, and it is highly conducive to his honour that he should now have the courage to say that in this point he erred. He does this at the risk of reputation and fortune; he subjects himself to the abuse of high and low; but he acts up to his conviction, which is that the packing sheet, if to be persevered in, is better than the sweating process.”
Though, however, the sweating process is not now so general, it is not entirely abandoned. A lady, a friend of mine, had a cold—she was ordered to sweat lightly twice a day, for two or three days. A gentleman had a swelling in his mouth; he was ordered the same. Others are ordered to sweat once or twice a-week, but the greater part of Priessnitz’ patients never sweat at all.
Priessnitz guards people against the use of hot-air and vapour baths; they weaken and relax the skin. The difference between bringing a great amount of heat to act upon the surface, and causing the body to develop its own heat, must be obvious to every one.
XIV.—Sweating Process.
This process is precisely the same as that which has been already described, with the omission of the wet sheet. To produce perspiration, the body is enveloped in dry blankets. This tedious process in moderately strong people is seldom effected in less than three hours.
In the wet sheet, no water is given—but in the blankets, as soon as perspiration appears, it should be administered in small quantities; for this purpose a tea-pot is desirable.
In the Sweating process it is necessary to place a urinal in the bed of the patient. On proceeding to the bath after either of the operations, the attendant must take especial care to keep the body well covered, or his patient may take cold. On throwing off the covering, let the body be wetted all over instantly. This is an infallible precaution.
When there is a difficulty in procuring a bath, the dripping sheet full of water is used. If the first sheet does not cool, it must be repeated.
XV.—The Rubbing Sheet, or Abreibung.
This, by some, is called “the dripping sheet”; by others, “the wrung out” or “rubbing sheet.” The term “rubbing” is used, because when the sheet is thrown on the body, great rubbing is used outside of it. It is a quick and simple mode of taking a general ablution; and, when frequently repeated, proves most effectual in restoring or increasing the circulation.
The value of friction to the human body is too well known to require observation. Hair gloves, hard brushes, or coarse towels cause a glow and an elastic feeling, though if long persevered in, they irritate and weaken the skin.
For the daily purposes of life, cold ablutions, and friction with dry cloths are sufficient; but to rouse the dormant energies, to give vitality to the system or combat illness, something more powerful is required.
The rubbing-sheet is a small sheet, soaked in cold water, and afterwards wrung out. This the attendant throws over the patient naked, who, standing up, receives it over his head and shoulders. When thus completely enveloped, the attendant rubs (outside the sheet) the back, loins, legs, and feet of the patient, whilst he himself rubs his abdomen and chest. The operation lasts about three minutes; the wet sheet is then replaced by a dry one, and friction again renewed until the body becomes quite dry; after which, if one rubbing-sheet only is prescribed, a waist-bandage is put on, a glass of water drank, and the invalid proceeds to take the air. If two or three rubbing sheets are prescribed, after the first operation as just described is over, the patient walks about the room in the dry sheet, with no other covering, for four or five minutes, occasionally approaching the window, which should be opened, throwing open the slight covering, in order to expose his skin to the air. The second and third rubbing-sheets are applied as the first.
Rubbing-sheets being used to effect several objects, are accordingly well wrung out, or not much wrung out, or scarcely wrung out at all. The first are used where there is a great want of vital energy, slow and languid circulation; the second is the ordinary mode of using the rubbing-sheet; the third is adopted where parties have lain in the packing-sheet or blankets and have no bath to cool them afterwards. Where there is a superabundance of heat, the rubbings are repeated perfectly wet, until the body is cooled.
The Rubbing Sheet is one of the safest and most efficacious appliances in the Water-cure. Every human body has in it 100½ degrees of heat; this is not diminished by the rubbing; by extracting we increase. Whenever persons are unwell, no matter the cause (except there may be eruptions on the body), a Rubbing Sheet is advisable. Where patients have been too exhausted to endure any other treatment, these sheets will resuscitate them in an extraordinary way.
Priessnitz perceived that merely rubbing the body with a damp and afterwards with a dry cloth was beneficial; but he found that whilst one part was under the operation, the other was exposed to catching cold; this gave him the idea of the Rubbing-Sheet, with which the whole body is covered at once.
As a general rule it is safe to begin the treatment of any illness with these sheets; they refresh the invalid, often ward off the complaint or develop the malady. In the cold stage of intermittent fever these rubbings down are persevered in until heat is produced; when the hot stage ensues, recourse is had to packing sheets, tepid baths, etc.
Where there is an excess of caloric, and fever is not declared, rubbing-sheets have a cooling effect, and often put an end to the illness at once. Where there is a want of caloric, as in ague, the Rubbing Sheets cause a determination of heat from the interior to the surface, in the same way that friction, or striking, brings heat out of matter. This may be elucidated by rubbing any part of the body with snow—re-action instantly ensues.
After great fatigue or a chill, or where persons have reason to think they have caught cold, two or three of these rubbings-down have an extraordinarily restorative effect.
They may be used by old or young, strong or weak, with perfect impunity.
In lumbago or rheumatism, or where it is necessary to rouse the vital energies, rubbing-sheets, four consecutively repeated, four times a-day, are frequently prescribed. A friend of mine, after getting wet whilst hunting, sat in his wet clothes, caught cold, and died. I am fully persuaded, if he had applied the Rubbing-sheets on getting home, the fatal result would have been avoided.
In some cases where a patient exhibits great weakness, languid circulation, and doubtful reaction, the sheet is wetted in tepid water, and sometimes the body is subjected to the action of cold by degrees, instead of being covered up at once, as is the case with the dripping sheet. There are invalids who cannot suffer anything cold to touch certain parts of their bodies; in such cases the tender part may be covered with a dry cloth, whilst the dripping sheet is applied, and the sensitive portion approached by degrees.
XVI.—The Douche Bath.
The douche, of all means employed, is the most powerful in stirring up, and removing humours from the position they may have occupied for years. What is understood by a “douche,” is a spring of water, conveyed by pipes through the tops of small huts, from whence it falls in a stream about the thickness of one’s wrist.
At Gräfenberg, there are six douches in the forest, with the falls of twenty feet, eighteen feet, and fifteen feet, respectively: the douches for women have a fall of only twelve feet, but no difference is made in the dimensions of the stream.
Patients are generally some time under the treatment before being permitted to take the douche. The douche is a most powerful stimulant.
As the sun by repulsion, brings heat out of matter, so the douche, by repelling, brings heat out of the body, and from the interior to the surface. It sets up a powerful action in the system, and is an active and useful agent for the cure of old-standing complaints. The douche should only be used in conjunction with other treatment.
The douche is never had recourse to in acute attacks; it is useful principally in chronic diseases. By its agency the body is hardened, and caused to develop its own force; it strengthens the skin, determines morbific matters to the surface by the pores, and exercises a powerful action upon the muscles and nervous system, by the action it provokes. In arthritic cases and rheumatism, the relief thus afforded is marvellous. It is so powerful a stimulant, that persons are frequently known, on coming out of the douche, to declare that they feel as much elation and buoyancy of spirits, as if they had been drinking freely of champagne.
A douche should be at some distance from the abode of the patient, because the necessary walk to it produces a glow of heat, and renders the body in a better state to produce re-action: no person should douche if cold or chilly.
The afflicted parts should be most exposed to the action of the douche, though it must be received successively upon all parts of the frame, except the head and face, unless otherwise prescribed. It should be avoided on the abdomen and chest when the latter is weak.
The douche ought to be discontinued when it produces feverish symptoms, and commenced again when they cease. The duration of it, in a general way, varies from two to five minutes, but is extended as the case may require, from fifteen minutes to half an hour; the latter being ordered in very especial cases.
An attendant waiting in the anti-chamber, throws a dry sheet on the patient on his coming out from the douche, rubs him dry, and puts on the waist bandage.
The time allotted for douching is two hours after breakfast, or dinner, but this rule is not without an exception; some patients, after their morning treatment, walk an hour, and then proceed to the Douche before breaking their fast.
Patients ought to be most particular in observing their doctor’s orders in the use of the douche.
XVII.—The Shower Baths.
These baths so much recommended by the faculty are not used at Gräfenberg. Many persons in the habit of using them complain of giddiness and head-ache. This arises from the re-action upwards, which naturally results from their application. As an ablution, a bath, or washing with wet towels is preferable.
Mr. Priessnitz objects to the use of them, as parties take them without previous preparation, or other adjuncts. Falling on the head, they frequently cause congestion in that region.
XVIII.—The Sitz or Sitting Bath.
By this is to be understood a hip bath: that used at Gräfenberg is a small flat tub about seventeen inches in diameter and twelve or thirteen inches deep; a common washing tub placed against the wall will answer the purpose. The water in this bath is seldom more than four to six inches deep, in which the patient sits with his feet resting on the ground. No rule can be laid down for the duration of this bath, as it is ordered from ten minutes to an hour, and longer, depending upon the effect it is intended to produce. It is sometimes prescribed three or four times a day.
The sitting bath is of so much importance that where not prescribed the case is considered an exception to the ordinary rule of treatment. The sitting-bath cools and strengthens the viscera of the body, and by revulsion or derivation, draws the humours from the head, chest, and abdomen; relieves pain in the gums or face, and dissipates flatulency and cholic; and is of the utmost value to those who lead sedentary lives.
The object of using so little water in this bath, the foot and a half bath, is, that reaction may be the sooner effected. The water is only changed in peculiar cases. The abdomen should be well rubbed whilst taking the bath, and exercise taken immediately after it, to bring on a reaction. Where there is any tendency of heat or blood to the head, a wet bandage in the shape of a turban should be put on the head immediately before sitting in the bath, and continued the whole time. In commencing the hydropathic treatment, or where the patient is low spirited or unwell, or in cases where reaction is slow, a tepid sitting bath of 62 deg. to 64 deg. is usually prescribed. If a patient takes this bath immediately after the rubbing-sheet, or the room in which he takes it is cold, he should be covered with a cloak or dry blanket. Sitting baths must not be taken just before going to bed, excepting under peculiar circumstances.
In a case of asthma when the patient could hardly breathe, a tepid sitting bath relieved him effectually in fifteen minutes. In all cases of accidents to the head, evil consequences are averted by repeated sitting baths. Head-aches are also generally relieved by these baths, which shows to demonstration that the theory of cold water when applied to the extremities driving the blood to the head, is completely devoid of foundation.
XIX.—Eye Bath.
As a preservative to the eyes, they should be kept open in a basin of water for two or three minutes every morning, or oftener. Glasses may also be used of the form of the eye, with water in them. For weak eyes, they are applied two or three times a day for five minutes each time. Where great inflammation exists, water should be thrown with the hand into the eyes several times a day.
XX.—Head Bath.
This bath can be taken in a common baking-dish, or any shallow vessel that can be kept flat on the ground. To take this bath, place a rug or blanket on the ground, and at the end of it, the vessel, containing water about two inches deep. The patient should extend himself on the rug so that his head may reach the dish or bason; then place the back of the head in the water, and keep it there three or four minutes; then each side of the head for the same time, and finish the operation by again subjecting the back of the head to the bath for two minutes. This process relieves headache. In cases of brain fever, and other diseases which cause great heat or pain in the head, these baths are frequently resorted to whilst the patient is in bed,—the back part of the head of the patient being placed in water, which is renewed when hot. In inflammation of the eyes, deafness, or loss of smell and taste, these baths are of great utility.
XXI.—Finger and Elbow Baths.
The wounded finger is placed in a glass of water; and there are cases where a glass is affixed by a string to the wrist, and the patient keeps the finger constantly in the bath. The elbow bath is used whenever the hand is wounded: it draws off the heat, and lowers the inflammation.
XXII.—Leg Bath.
The thighs and legs, when afflicted with ulcers, ringworms, etc., ought to be put into a bath, so as to cover the parts afflicted, for an hour or longer. This bath acts as a stimulant.
Other members of the body may likewise be subjected to baths; but their necessity must, be determined by circumstances.
XXIII.—Foot Bath.
This bath acts derivatively, and is employed as a counteracting agent against pains of the head, inflammation in the face, congestion to the upper regions of the body, fainting fits, bleeding of the nose, or spitting of blood.
Priessnitz prescribes cold foot-baths to effect the same object that the faculty endeavour to promote by warm ones.
The difference between a cold foot-bath and a warm one is, that after the cold one, a warm glow succeeds and remains; whilst cold feet are the necessary consequence of a warm bath. After the feet have been in cold water for some time, the water becomes tepid from the heat extracted. If the feet are put into hot water, heat, instead of being eliminated from the system, is brought to it—the very opposite to what is intended.
Sometimes, water at a temperature of 62 degrees is prescribed.
Cold foot-baths are accused of driving the blood to the head, for which notion there is not the slightest foundation, as the very opposite effect always attends their application. In the case of bleeding at the nose, I have seen them used several times; two cases, in fact, are worthy of notice:—A man was nearly exhausted from loss of blood from the nose; he put his feet into cold water, and the bleeding stopped in two minutes. A young lady, similarly attacked, put a key down the back and a wet towel upon the nape of the neck, without effect; her feet were put into cold water, and the bleeding ceased immediately. These two cases ought to satisfy the inquirer that cold foot-baths, far from causing congestion in the head, relieve the head.
Care must, however, be taken that the feet are warm when put into cold water, and exercise should be taken after the bath, in order to bring about re-action.
To prove that re-action always attends the use of these baths, when followed by proper exercise, we have but to observe our feet an hour or two after using one. After great fatigue a foot-bath is most refreshing. Mr. Priessnitz recommends the frequent use of these baths, as calculated to ward off complaints—many of which originate in the feet.
Friction and cold foot-baths are the best remedy for habitually cold feet.
Poor people who wear neither shoes or stockings, and whose feet are constantly exposed to a sort of foot-bath, avoid many complaints with which the rich are visited. It would be a misfortune to such people to be furnished with covering for the feet, as will be seen by two cases supplied me by friends on whom I can rely:—
An Irish gentleman, who removed a game-keeper from a low marshy estate to one high and dry, asked him one day how he liked the change. The man replied, “Not at all; he had never been well a day since he had been there, for there was not a drop of water to wet his feet.”
A game-keeper, sent to prison to wait his trial for killing a man, being unwell, thought he would adopt his old habits as far as his confinement admitted of. He frequently immersed his feet in cold water, and kept them in motion. Soon after he began this, he recovered.
As a general foot-bath, the water should only come up to the instep; the feet and legs ought to be rubbed by an attendant, or one foot rubbed against the other the whole time. For cold feet ten minutes is sufficient, and the water need only cover the soles of the feet; but for other objects these baths are taken from fifteen minutes to half an hour, often much longer.
XXIV.—The Tepid, or Abgeschrecte Bath.
This bath is precisely the same as the half-bath, and applied in the same way; the only difference being the water, which in this bath is tepid; i. e. ordinarily 62 or 63 deg. of Fahrenheit, sometimes as high as 76 deg. In ordinary cases eight or ten minutes are sufficient, though in gout I have known it continued for hours. Great friction, except in eruptive cases, is applied the whole time.
The temperature during the use of this bath must be gradually diminished by the addition of cold water. After rubbing the body for a short time, the attendant throws a can of cold water on the head and shoulders and then renews the friction, a process repeated until inflammation and pain has subsided. If the patient feels weak or tired under the operation, he is allowed to come out for a few minutes and then begin again. It is customary with Priessnitz to put all new-comers into a tepid bath for one or two minutes, then into the cold plunge bath and back to the tepid. By these means he judges of their powers of re-action, and prescribes accordingly.
Tepid baths are always used in eruptive cases. All practitioners would do well to begin with these baths and proceed by degrees to colder ones. Every day’s experience teaches Priessnitz the value of tepid baths.
Whenever these baths are ordered—for instance for fifteen minutes—instead of taking the whole at once, the dose is administered à trois reprises. After the first five minutes, the patient gets out of the bath and walks about the room, covered with a dry sheet, until he gains a little life and activity in the joints, which will be effected in two or three minutes. He then returns to the bath, and after the next five minutes the same process is repeated. After the third process, the patient is dried and walks about the room in the dry sheet for a short time, by way of taking an air bath. This is an important modification in the use of this bath. When patients are feeble and not able to support a bath so long as is often necessary to remove the attack, of whatever nature it may be, by dividing it in the way described, nature recovers herself a little during each rest, and the sufferer is thus enabled to take the whole; whereas, without any such pauses, the demand made on his strength might be too great. With children this mode of treatment is particularly observed.
XXV.—Bandages, or Umschlags.
Bandages fulfil two objects diametrically opposed to each other, viz., to calm and to stimulate. One object is effected by leaving a good deal of water in the bandage, not covering it with a dry one, and changing it as soon as hot. The other by wringing the bandage well out, covering it with a dry one and only changing it when dry.
1st. The more heat there is in the intestines the quicker the body bandages act.
2nd. Outward cold applications cause a fresh generation of heat.
3rd. By keeping the skin moist, these bandages cause the exudation of peccant humours and eliminate the excess of caloric.
4th. They equalise the temperature of the intestines, and keep up a healthy action in them.
5th. Wherever there is inflammation, their application and renewal lowers the temperature, and their moisture causes the healing of sores or wounds.
Those most in use, may be termed heating bandages. That for the waist, is worn day and night. It is 8½ feet long; eight or nine inches wide, with a double tape at the end to tie it with. To be put on with facility, it ought to be rolled up like a surgeon’s bandage, beginning at the tape end. Then as much should be wetted and wrung out as will go once round the body, which the remaining part will cover. The chest bandages are made of coarse linen, doubled, in the shape of a breast-plate, to fit the chest and the throat, tied with three pair of tapes, one round the neck, under the arms, and round the waist. There must be two breast-plates, one to button into the other: the smaller to be wetted, the larger to be dry.
In the water-cure the waist bandage is changed in the morning, at noon, in the afternoon, and on going to bed.
A clammy heat almost immediately succeeds the application of this bandage: a sensation which one soon becomes accustomed to. Large or small bandages of this nature are applied in an infinity of cases. Those afflicted with complaints of the throat or chest, wear the chest bandage at night. Bandages are also applied to the feet and legs as derivatives; and to all wounds, bruises, diseased parts, or wherever pain is felt.
The humid heat of these bandages has a stimulating and absorbent property; they relieve the body of superfluous heat, and extract vitiated matters from the parts to which they are applied, as is frequently seen by the water in which they are washed. Moreover, they regulate the bowels, kidnies, &c.
Mercury is constantly drawn from the pores in these bandages.—Prince Leichtenstein, who had rubbed a light green ointment into his leg twelve months previously to going to Gräfenberg, found that for a fortnight it came out of the flesh by means of these bandages. Some medical men are sceptical on this subject: to be convinced of the truth let such go to Gräfenberg, where they may have constant evidence of the fact.
These bandages assuage pain, and aid in curing—better than ointments and plaisters[sic]. It is in vain that we seek to cure malignant ulcers retained in the system by impure blood with ointments. At Gräfenberg this is effected by the general cure, in which these bandages occupy so prominent a part.
These bandages are used by every patient, and must be renewed after every application of the treatment. If not mentioned in any of the following cases, the omission is unintentional, and those for the waist and diseased parts must be applied notwithstanding.
To any one who has never been in a Water-cure establishment, the application of these bandages will doubtless appear fraught with danger; but so little is this the case, that they are applied to age and decrepitude, to infants as soon as born, and to persons of weak, nervous, and delicate constitutions.
So far from colds being produced by these bandages, when covered with dry ones, we find invalids almost entirely encased in them nightly for months together. Let any one in pain, or who has a sore throat, try them, and he will soon be a convert to our opinion.
In inflammation, congestion of the blood, head-aches, burns, scalds, and wounds, until inflammation subsides, bandages without dry ones over them are used.
For this purpose, linen several times doubled, is wetted in cold water and placed upon the parts affected, where it remains until hot, and then is renewed until the disease ceases for which it was applied.
Sometimes these bandages are changed every ten minutes. In cases of wounds or fractures, sitz-baths accompany these bandages, as together they keep down inflammation.
In inflammation and fever, and in all cases of sickness, discomfort, pain or cramps, a larger bandage than usual is required: this is a sheet folded up and applied from the arm-pits to the thighs, and changed frequently. This large bandage is frequently ordered at night to sleep in, instead of the smaller one.
A gentleman, greatly afflicted, was packed up at night in a wet sheet, with a blanket loosely bound round him, his arms and feet being left free. This afforded him relief from pain. Of course, care was taken that perspiration did not ensue. In the morning the patient took his usual treatment.
The following interesting fact, confirming the advantage of bandages, is related in Baron Larry’s “Memoir of the Russian Campaign.” “An officer underwent amputation of an arm, after which the surgeon lost sight of him for some time. Two years subsequently, he met the officer in the saloons of Paris, who stated, that his wound had been completely cured by the constant application of cold wet bandages, which he wetted at the different rivulets he met with in his retreat, without any other application whatever.”
In a Water-cure Establishment bandages are applied wherever pain or inconvenience is felt. Sometimes a patient has his legs, thighs, loins, and perhaps an arm or his head encased in them at one time, and so sleeps without any precautions as to increasing the amount of his covering.
A well-known English Gentleman caught leprosy in the East. Whilst under treatment at Gräfenberg, he slept in a pair of wet pantaloons, and a wet waistcoat covered with dry ones every night. The dry covering soon became wet, as did the blanket, when the patient felt chilly and uncomfortable, yet no cold resulted. The blanket which was used as a covering attracted the humidity. Priessnitz ordered a second blanket to be put over the first, which absorbed the damp from the first. After a couple of hours this was taken off and the under blanket was found dry: thus the patient was relieved of his discomfort.
A Gentleman afflicted with Lumbago was advised to bathe in the Serpentine in winter. After having done so, he dipped his shirt in the water, wrung it out, and put it on, then buttoning up well and putting on a great-coat and a large neckcloth, he proceeded briskly to Hampstead and back; this produced great heat, and cured the lumbago. These circumstances lead to the conviction that dangers attending the application of wet linen to our bodies, are less real than is represented. Thus, the airing of linen before a fire previous to wearing it, is of no advantage; the slight damp in it, on the contrary, excites the skin, and is more beneficial than otherwise.
One thing the reader’s attention must be called to as an incontrovertible fact. No person ever caught a cold or suffered inconvenience from the application of wet sheets or bandages in the Water-cure.
XXVI.—Diet.
“It is not the plenty of meat,” says Dr. Scott, “that nourishes, but a good digestion; neither is it the abundance of wealth that makes us happy, but the discreet using of it.”
Whilst under treatment, patients partake of three meals, breakfast, dinner, and supper. The breakfast and supper consist of bread, butter, milk and fruit. Dinner ought to consist of plain food, that is to say, roast and boiled meat, poultry and vegetables, puddings and fruits; fish and soup are not recommended.
Priessnitz is not an advocate for what is considered highly nourishing food; he contends that quantity is more essential than quality. The act of feeding causes the stomach, like other members of the body, to perform its office.
A written case was presented to him of a person treating himself. Priessnitz approved of what was doing, until he came to where it was stated the patient ate roast beef and mutton daily—through this he struck his pen. This opinion of Priessnitz’s seems confirmed by Dr. Beaumont of the United States, who made some useful experiments upon a young man named —— Martin, who was desperately, though not mortally, wounded, by the discharge of a gun, the contents of which entered the chest, and passed through the integuments of the stomach, so that the whole process of digestion was laid open to observation. The most important inferences arrived at by the doctor, from his observations, were—
1st.—That all stimulating condiments are injurious to the healthy stomach.
2ndly.—That the use of ardent spirits if preserved in, produces disease in the stomach.
3rdly.—That bulk as well as nutriment is necessary to the articles of diet.
4thly.—That the digestibility of aliment does not depend upon the quantity of nutritient principles it contains.
Dr. Beaumont further adds, “Here we have incontestable proof, that disease of the stomach was induced, and going on from bad to worse, in consequence of indulgence in ardent spirits, although no prominent symptom made its appearance, and —— Martin was, in his general habits, a healthy and sober man.”
I put the following questions to Mr. Priessnitz:—“Is it requisite to eat meat every day?” “Yes, whilst under the treatment, because of the waste which the operations and consequent exertions occasion.” “In cases of obstinate constipation, animal food must be partaken of sparingly?” “When not under Hydropathic treatment, meat should not be indulged in every day, except where parties are subjected to great exertion or hard labour, and even then it is better to avoid it occasionally. In fact, people would be more healthy if they only eat meat on alternate days, and if all their food were cold instead of hot.”
From the habitual use of hot aliments the lining coat of the throat and stomach becomes distended and weak—hence bronchitis and weak digestion.
To the question as to drinking water. Priessnitz said, “Drink plentifully at every meal, finish by a tumbler or two, and don’t fail drinking five or six glasses daily.”
Experience which is better than a thousand theories, proves that after partaking of indigestible food, or eating too much, a few glasses of water relieve the stomach. One is at a loss to conceive why people should avoid drinking water at their meals, since none suffer from its use, and Nature seems to require it. Those who feel indisposed, by abstaining from food altogether for a day and drinking water, may frequently avoid a serious illness.
Butter is fat food and bad for delicate digestions. The leaner the food the better, to restore tone to the stomach and bowels. To people of strong digestions this does not apply.
If we look around us, we find that three-fourths of the human family live and labour, and digest, without tasting animal food; that the remaining fourth, who indulge in it, do more homage to Apothecaries’ Hall than all the rest. But it is argued, much depends upon climate: then how shall we reconcile the rice of the East, the potato of Ireland, the oatmeal of Scotland, and the rye-bread of Poland? We can easily understand people in hot countries living upon rice, maccaroni[sic], etc.; but if what we understand by the term, nutritious food, is absolutely indispensable, how reconcile ourselves to the potato as the only food for the largest portion of the inhabitants of Ireland? Rye, which is the staff of life to the Poles, is a grain next in degree to wheat; then follow barley and oats. Potatoes are the very worst and lowest description of food. Rye-bread is as manna sent from heaven, in comparison with oatmeal, the chief food of the highlands of Scotland; yet we see strong healthy people in Ireland and Scotland, living solely upon these to a fine old age, without the assistance of the Pharmacopœia.
Does not this prove Mr. Priessnitz is right, when he says quantity is more essential than quality?
The great mass of mankind live on vegetable diet, which comprehends all the products of the earth. An author tells us, “Recent discoveries have shewn that vegetables contain the same elements as flesh: the same gluten, albumen, fibrin, and oily matters that exist in a beefsteak, are also found in our esculent vegetables.”
Experience proves that vegetable diet is lighter and less liable to bring on disease, than one in which animal food largely prevails.
From an early period the philosophers of Greece,—from amongst whom we may cite Zeno, Plutarch, Porphyrus, and Plautinus,—advocated and practised an exclusively vegetable diet. The Pythagorean sages inculcated the same: hence the prevalence of rice diet over the vast and densely-peopled regions of Asia. Mahomet is said to have lived upon dates and water. It is related that the philanthropists, Swedenborg and Howard, were vegetarians; that Newton, Descartes, Haller, Hufeland, Byron, Shelley, and a host of other men of genius, were advocates of a vegetable diet. The continued use of meat produces scurvy, liver disease, rheumatism, gout, piles, etc.
Lamartine is a vegetarian.
On the score of economy, it is ascertained that the same plot of ground which would provide animal food for one man, would feed seventeen on vegetables.
For sick and delicate people, nutritious food should give way to coarser fare when under treatment. Priessnitz says he lost a colonel in the army, entirely from his indulgence in niceties and nourishing food; he could not be induced to confine himself to plain coarse fare: his digestion, in consequence, was always impaired.
Salt is injurious when acid humours or sores affect the body.
All spices, such as pepper, cloves, cinnamon, and mustard, are to be avoided, on account of their stimulating properties: nature gave these stimulants to the Indians, because their burning sky, by enervating the body, rendered them necessary.
In our climate the air is more compressed, and contains a larger amount of oxygen, which predisposes to inflammatory diseases. “Use,” says Priessnitz, “the seasonings nature has given us, and leave to foreigners theirs: nature has provided for man’s wants; our eatables ought, on that account, to agree with us the better.”
Good household or brown bread is considered better than white bread.
Beer, wine, and alcohols of all kinds, are interdicted, as not assimilating with the food. It is a mistake to suppose that such things assist digestion: they have a totally opposite effect. Every museum of natural history exhibits substances preserved in wine, spirits of wine, or spirits, which would be dissolved in water.
A question arises, if, after having undergone the Water-cure, it is requisite to pursue any particular regimen? To this it may be answered, that those who continue a life of temperance stand a better chance of enjoying health and happiness than those who do not; but abstemiousness does not follow the Water-cure as a matter of course, any more than it does medical treatment. It is, however, necessary to abstain from intemperance for a short time after leaving off the treatment, or serious consequences may ensue.
To those who have passed the meridian of life, whose circulation is languid, who have been accustomed to stimulants, Mr. Priessnitz recommends the occasional use of light wines; and in speaking of wine as an alterative, he admitted that there could be no rule without an exception.
Tea and coffee attack the nerves. In my travels through Ireland, I was shocked at the ravages made upon the weaker sex by tea, the abuse of which has become a besetting sin. Give two or three cups of strong tea to one unaccustomed to it, and its effects will be evident upon the nervous system: in most cases it will deprive the recipient of sleep. I have known a strong man who, to cure headache, drank three or four cups of strong black tea, who, a few hours afterwards, trembled from head to foot. The same often attends the drinking of coffee. Dr. Sir Charles Scudamore, in his work on Hydropathy, states that Liebig, the best living chemical authority, said that coffee impeded the digestion of food for one or two hours, its carbonaceous principle requiring oxygen; and that he looked upon green tea as a poison. Tea and coffee-drinkers declare that neither affect them, and refer to persons who have drank both during a long life, and are, notwithstanding, in health. There are exceptions. The Bacchanalian, in like manner, justifies his revels, and the Turk his opium—but “mark the end!”
Stomachs weakened by the continued use of stimulants revolt at milk, which is the only food of most animals when young, and, as such, contains a large amount of nutriment, which is not the case with tea or coffee. I know a lady, the wife of one of Napoleon’s marshals, who, for some complaint, was prescribed a milk diet. During a period of twenty years she has not taken an ounce of anything in the shape of food, having confined herself entirely to milk. Her health has been invariably good, and, though no longer young, can endure an excursion on foot over the mountains of Switzerland better than any of my female acquaintances. Does not this speak volumes in favour of milk as a diet for children or adults?
At Gräfenberg, patients who cannot drink milk mix it with water until the stomach gains tone; others drink sour milk, and find it agree with them, when common milk would not: this is to be accounted for from the milk having already undergone the first process of fermentation, which process would otherwise have taken place in the stomach. Most new-comers to Gräfenberg have a strong prejudice against sour milk, which, after persevering in taking it for some time, generally ends in their liking it exceedingly. Sour milk, with sugar and strawberries, is delicious. Boiled milk, with bread broken in it, agrees with most people, and makes a nourishing meal. To those with whom milk alone does not agree, cocoa, with plenty of milk, is recommended as wholesome and economical.
It has been observed by an able writer, that some people think that to live well means only to eat, and, it might be added, to drink. To hear that a man can enjoy the pleasures of the table, who refrains from wine and beer, and whose only beverage is water, appears paradoxical. Some go so far as to say that they prefer death to purchasing life on such terms, forgetting that a temporary indulgence at the table for a couple of hours may render them uncomfortable for the remainder of the twenty-four, and that the exciting, overcharging, and thickening of the blood, renders them hypochondriacal and morose, and makes invalids of men who ought to be in the enjoyment of robust health. It is hardly to be expected that nature will deal mercifully with him who has for so many years sinned against her mandates: she will, doubtless, sooner or later reward the crimes of lèse majesté committed against her high prerogatives.
“Nothing like the simple element dilutes The food, or gives the chyle so soon to flow.”
The bon-vivant, from the excited state of his system, is not only more subject to complaints than persons who live temperately, but is more difficult of cure. When overtaken with pain and illness, notwithstanding his stoicism in declaring for a short life and a merry one, no one desires to be restored to health with greater earnestness, or manifests a more ardent clinging to life than himself.
Priessnitz’s assumption that the indigenous products of the country wherein we reside being best calculated for the support of health, is borne out by Liebig, who says: “Even when we consume equal weights of food in cold and warm countries, infinite wisdom has so arranged that the articles of food of different climates are most unequal in the proportion of carbon they contain. The fruits on which the natives of the South prefer to feed, do not, in the fresh state, contain more than 12 per cent. of carbon; whilst the bacon and train oil used by the inhabitants of the Arctic regions, contain 66 to 80 per cent. of carbon.”
Avoiding all excess, it is man’s prerogative to elaborate and assimilate the most heterogeneous aliments, not being limited, like other animals, to any particular food; and it is certain that those who approach nearest to nature, who enjoy the benefit of pure air and lead an active life, do not require to observe any particular rules.
One thing, however, is admitted: the duration of life depends upon the simplicity of our wants. Most people eat too much, especially of animal food. No people talk so much of indigestion, dyspepsia, and constipation, as the English; it has been said that they take more pills and aperients, and pay more fees, than all the nations of the world together! What a distinction from savage life! The child of nature, whose only drink is water, can, without inconvenience, go for days together without food, and then commit excesses that, if indulged in in civilised life, would produce fatal results.
It ought to be observed, that abstinence from wine and spices is compensated by the pleasure water-drinkers take in being enabled to partake ad libitum, of pastry, fruit, and other delicacies of the table, which wine-drinkers dare not indulge in.
XXVII.—Clothing, Air Baths, Wearing Stays, etc.
Mr. Priessnitz expects all his patients to leave off wearing flannel or cotton next to the body; he maintains that by keeping up too much heat, they weaken the skin, which then is less efficient in performing its offices, and in consequence people become delicate and diseased.
A patient coming out of the bath, on being prevented putting on his flannel waistcoat and drawers, said, “Tell Mr. Priessnitz, they and I having been intimately acquainted for twenty years, I hardly like parting with them so abruptly.” His reply was, “They are false friends; in a short time your skin will regain the proper tone which they deprived it of, when you will be warmer without flannel than ever you were with it.” Priessnitz does not preach one doctrine and practise another—he wears nothing under his linen. Some patients of a slow circulation, on commencing the treatment, are ordered to wear their flannel waistcoats over their linen for a few days: the want of it is not felt. It might naturally be supposed, that leaving off flannel of a sudden, especially in cold weather, would be attended with serious consequences; but this is never the case in the Water-cure. Invalids frequently arrive at Gräfenberg in the depth of winter, and after the bath, invariably leave off flannel. Of the number of cases that came under my observation, I never knew a single instance of a party catching cold. After the bath, the patient is expected to keep up a brisk walk for some time. In winter, it would be as well, after leaving off flannel, to clothe warmer than usual for a day or two.
Wearing flannel waistcoats in bed of a night is greatly debilitating. An almost universal prejudice exists in favour of flannel in cases of gout and rheumatism; hence the question arises, “Does it prevent or cure those complaints?” Certainly not; for where do you see their victims without flannel? Experience proves, that it neither protects the wearer from disease, nor allays pain.
Nightcaps destroy the hair, cause its premature decay, and have an injurious tendency to those troubled with congestion in the head, head-aches, etc.; such people cannot have their bedrooms too cold. There is much sense in the old adage—“Keep the head cold, and the feet warm.” Previously to sleeping without a nightcap, and washing my head every morning with cold water, I was constantly tormented with cold in the head, from which I am now perfectly free. Perhaps, in some measure, I am indebted to my last visit to Gräfenberg for this happy change, having passed a whole winter there without wearing either hat or neck-cloth, or making any change from my summer clothing, although the thermometer was frequently 12° to 14° Reaumur below zero.
The constant use of oils and pomatums to the hair, unless the head is often washed, closes the pores, and is prejudicial.
With respect to the clothing, Priessnitz advises “when in an open carriage, or sitting still, the body should be well clothed; when in exercise, as lightly covered as possible.”
One half the cases of consumption in females may be traced to the wearing of stays, and lacing them too tight. All artists agree, that stays in growing people destroy, rather than improve, the figure. Bound up in whalebone, they lose that graceful undulation of the back which is so pleasing. Every one who has seen the Venus de Medicis, Canova’s Venus, or any other faithful copy of nature, must consider a very small waist a defect.
Stays, at best, are unwholesome, as they keep up an unnatural heat about the body; and when laced too tight, are sure to be attended with serious consequences. I have known several young ladies, whose teeth were destroyed, whose breaths were intolerable, and who were consigned to a premature grave, entirely from tight lacing. To have health, the greatest of all blessings, the complicated machinery inside our bodies must have room for action (the intestinal canal, for instance, is half as thick as a man’s arm, and sixty or seventy yards long); contract this space, you contract the vessels, and irregularity of the functions ensues. This is an offence against nature, which sooner or later she will repay with misery and pain.
Dr. Abernethy advised air baths, that is, the habit of exposing the body naked to the air, which may be done with impunity after the cold bath, but not otherwise. In winter, instead of increasing the amount of clothing, Priessnitz advises exercise; for, in proportion as the body is warmly clothed, and the air excluded, the less warmth is produced by the body itself; resistance to cold causes the body to bring forth its own energies and powers. There can be no doubt the feet are much warmer, and that it is much healthier, to go without stockings; it necessitates washing the feet oftener, which, if done in cold water, tends to bring warmth to them. The Turks owe much of their health to their habit of washing their feet. Before going to Gräfenberg, people destitute of shoes and stockings excited my pity; but since that time, my opinion is changed: let such persons be well fed, but for health keep their feet bare. The following extracts from Liebig support Priessnitz’s opinion:—
“Our clothing is merely an equivalent for a certain amount of food. The more we are clothed, the less urgent becomes the appetite for food; because the loss of heat by cooling, and consequently the amount of heat to be supplied by the food, is diminished.
“If we were to go naked, like certain savage tribes; or if in hunting or fishing, we were exposed to the same degree of cold as the Samoyedes, we should be able with ease to consume ten pounds of flesh, and perhaps a dozen of tallow candles into the bargain, daily; as warm-clad travellers have related with astonishment of those people.”
“The Englishman, in Jamaica, feels with regret the disappearance of his appetite, previously a source of frequently recurring enjoyment. And he succeeds by the use of cayenne pepper and the most powerful stimulants, in enabling himself to take as much food as he was accustomed to eat at home. But the whole of the carbon thus introduced into the system is not consumed; the temperature of the air is too high, and the oppressive heat does not allow him to increase the number of respirations by active exercise, and thus to proportion the waste to the amount of food taken; disease of some kind, therefore, ensues.”
“The cooling of the body, by whatever cause it may be produced, increases the amount of food necessary, the mere exposure to the open air, in a carriage or on the deck of a ship, by increasing radiation and evaporation, increases the loss of heat and compels us to eat more than usual. The same is true of those who are accustomed to drink large quantities of water, which is given off at a temperature of the body 98°. It increases the appetite; and persons of weak constitution find it necessary, by continued exercise, to supply to the system the oxygen required to restore the heat abstracted by the cold water. Loud and long continued speaking, the crying of infants, and moist air, all exert a decided and appreciable influence on the amount of food which is taken.”—Liebig.
“No isolated fact,” says Dr. Johnson, “can contravene the law that the quantity of food is regulated by the number of respirations, by the temperature of the air, and by the amount of heat given off to the surrounding medium, as for instance by frequent bathing. Of course it is a matter of indifference whether that medium be cold air or cold water.”
As a healthy naked body generates by heightened perspiration of the skin, the same warmth as is produced by one which is covered, by means of retaining the perspiration; so every one who is quite well, might by use become so hardened, that during the coldest season he might feel, when naked, as comfortable as any one covered with wool. The truth of this was verified by two English gentlemen, the winter I spent at Gräfenberg. One day in December, when the thermometer was at 6°, of Reaumur, below zero, they proceeded to a mountain, took off all their clothes, except their drawers, and proceeded to the top, where, though the wind was blowing strong at the time, they remained two hours. They stated that after they had walked briskly, or got up the steam for ten minutes, a glow of heat came on, which counteracting the cold, produced the most agreeable sensation. Neither of these gentlemen caught cold or suffered in any way from this experiment.
The Scotch Highlander with his naked legs, does not feel colder, surrounded by mountains of ice, than we do who are clothed. We prove this by our bare faces in the coldest winter.
As the skin performs the double function, of drawing nourishment from the air, and exhaling the phlogisticised air of the diseased matter and worn-out atoms of the body, it follows that the true art of curing, must be to endeavour to restore these two functions. Hydropathy causes the ejection of diseased matter and revives the activity of the skin.
Dr. Johnson observes, “Discomforts are the necessary whips and spurs which keep the living energies awake; whilst comforts operate upon us like opiates: since to acquire a ‘comfort’ is only to remove a discomfort; and to remove what keeps us awake, is the same thing as to administer what will send us to sleep. The indulgences, therefore, wherewith even young and healthy men indulge themselves; the ‘comforts,’ as they call them, of flannel, warm clothing, closed doors, carpeted rooms, soft beds, hot food, are infinitely worse than absurd; because the opposites of all these luxuries, so far from being injurious to health, are absolutely necessary to it. We actually kill ourselves with comforts.”
XXVIII.—Drugs.
“Thus with our hellish drugs, Death’s ceaseless fountains In these bright vales, o’er these green mountains Worse than the very plague we raged. I have myself to thousands poison given, And hear their murderer praised as blest by heaven, Because with Nature strife he waged.” Göethe’s Faust.
The influence of habit and custom is such, that it is difficult to arouse inquiry, when the result is calculated to derange the existing order of things. Mr. D’Israeli observes, “Could we conceive that man had never discovered the practice of washing his hands, but cleansed them as animals do their paws, he would for certain have ridiculed and protested against the inventor of soap, and as tardily, as in other matters, have adopted the invention.”
All change, however beneficial, is attended with trouble; and we therefore adopt the motto, “Whatever is, is right.” This very motto is the key to our method of cure—as it is to that of every other great moral truth. Yet, to quote the words of Rausse, “We do not take this in the sense of the philosophy of our days, or in that of the German philosopher, Hegel, for then we must consider falsehood and assassination to be good. Rather would we take these words in the sense in which they were first proclaimed by the philosophy of Geneva, in the sense in which the first citizen used them for the foundation of his truths; thus, that which is produced by nature is good; all inclinations, all impulses of men derived from nature, are good; and every mis-usage of nature is an outrage which she punishes with misery and pain. All the principles of the art of curing at Gräfenberg, attested as they are by thousands, are dictated by that instinct which nature has given to every human being as his inheritance.”
But are not all the cures performed at Gräfenberg—all the doctrines of Hydropathy—opposed to science? It may be answered, Yes; nor can we shut our eyes to the fact, that nature refuses all respect for what we are pleased to denominate learning—nay, tramples upon what is often called science: particularly on that of medicine. By what delusions were mankind first persuaded to submit to the use of poisonous drugs! In the middle ages, water as a beverage, and as a cure for disease, fell into total disuse. In the time of the Crusades, the Arab doctors introduced the use of Oriental drugs, to which they attributed miraculous virtues; and during the period of astrology and alchemy, and when researches were being made for the philosopher’s stone, almost every nation boasted of having found some panacea—some elixir vitæ: sometimes it was an oil or an herb; at others, a powder or mineral; until, in process of time, their accumulation formed the vaunted science of medicine. But, we would inquire, are the effects of these compounds such as to lead to the conclusion that they were recommended by nature? Have mankind become healthier since their introduction? Are those nations who have done most homage to this science, the strongest and soundest?
To think of eradicating disease with poisons, of which physic is generally composed, appears paradoxical. How is it possible to bring physic to bear upon the dispersed and deeply-hidden diseased matter? Even if this could be done, it is quite impossible, as every chemist knows, for the peccant matters and physic to dissolve each other into nothing.
Dr. Forbes, editor of the “British and Foreign Medical Review,” supports this view of the case. He observes, “It is one of the most formidable difficulties with which the ordinary physician has to contend, that nearly all his remedies reach the point to which they are directed, through one channel. If the brain requires to be placed under the influence of a sedative or a stimulant, if the muscular system demands invigorating by tonics, if the functions of organic life need correction by alteratives, the physician has no means of attaining his object except by inundating the stomach and bowels with foreign and frequently pernicious substances. It being thus made the medical doorway to all parts of the system, and so compelled to admit every description of therapeutical appliances, the organ of digestion is contorted to a purpose for which it was never intended.”
“The consequence,” says Dr. Arbuthnot, “of such treatment with physic is, that to the old evil a new stimulus is added, weak or strong, according to the dose and quality: what is inflammable, stays in the blood, and afterwards affects the brain.”
We may fairly ask, How can any of these consequences result from Hydropathy? The following lines of Horace Smith are not far from the truth:—
“Physic! a freak of times and modes, Which yearly old mistakes explodes For new ones still absurder. All slay,—their victims disappear, And only leaves the doctrine clear That killing is no murder.”
Are those who do most to aid the apothecaries, and who indulge in alcoholic drinks, healthier than others; or, are those who are in the habit of consulting doctors free from pain? No! they drag on a miserable existence. It might be asked, If certain herbs and minerals were alone intended for healing man’s infirmities, how would the inhabitants of the temperate zone procure those that are indigenous to the tropics, and vice versâ? Instinct pleads in favour of the element that abounds wherever human beings ought to live; and innumerable instances might be adduced of the advantage which the use of water gives the savage over cultivated man.
From the most remote ages, water was known and resorted to as a curative agent by the unsophisticated children of nature. In the wilds of America, the savage is put into a close hut, built of stones, which hut is heated to produce intense perspiration on the invalid, in which state he is immersed in the river, near to which the hut is generally placed; and by Pallme’s travels in Kordofan, we find that, in the very depths of Africa, fevers are cured by cold water. It appears our traveller lay several days in bed with burning fever, when, at length, his attendants lifted him out of bed, placed him with his back against the door, and poured a large volume of cold water on his head and body. After the shock he was put to bed, covered with sacks and sheepskins: this produced relief and sleep. A second application of this treatment effected a cure.
Some writers err in supposing mankind to have arrived at an age of decrepitude, from its not occurring to them that the deterioration of health arises from art, and not nature. If you wish to be convinced of this, leave civilised and go to savage life. There you will see the man of nature as young and strong as the first created; the generation cannot grow old, except by art, poison, or vice. Prescribe simple water, and it is rejected with scorn; but let any quack recommend his drugs, however poisonous, and they are swallowed regardless of results. It must have been the enemy of all good who first persuaded mankind that poison could produce health.
The evils that arise from pernicious drugs, which have swept away millions, and which will destroy the whole species if no reform takes place, originate in misunderstanding the first or acute attack, which is but an attempt of nature to heal. Men take acute attacks for disease, whilst in reality they are the means by which the system is relieved of disease. Bleeding, blistering, cupping, and drugging, subdue these efforts,—not by emancipating the system, but by so reducing it that it can no longer contend with its enemy. Men praised the unlucky discovery, and hence a host of deadly diseases took their origin, such as destructions and suppurations of the inner organs, dropsy, etc.: complaints which were hardly known in times of yore, and which, but for these causes, would never have reared their heads. However, as the lamentable consequences in some cases do not appear until years after the suppression of the acute conflict, no one thinks of attributing them to drugs. This drug-plague is the most dreadful malady mankind has to contend with; dug by themselves from the black abysses of the earth, it has been cherished as the effect of deep science for centuries; how frequently has the last shilling been offered up at its altar! Upon it as many millions have been spent as would pay off the National Debt: to the study of these dangerous errors, millions of men have applied the whole of their lives and their ability: backed by this so-called science, they contend against nature; but how does Nature punish those who wish to master her? Oh, great unspeakable Nature! how dreadfully beautiful art thou, in thy inexorable and destroying severity!
Mankind may still turn back, and regenerate health; but it is not sufficient for them to renounce physic: they must abandon wine, spirits, and poison, in every shape. For the curing of disease, we must not look into the grey mysteries of the future, but far behind us, on the green plain of Nature, and of the times which are past.
XXIX.—Assimilation.
The preservation of life requires not only that its consumption should be reduced, but its restoration rendered more easy. For this purpose two things are necessary, the perfect assimilation of that which is beneficial, the separation from that which is injurious. Life, as will be seen from the following definition, depends upon the identification, the assimilation, and the animalisation of external matter by the vital power, in its passage from the chemical to the organic world.
The power of assimilating other substances into itself is the fundamental principle of nature. This impulse and power is not only prevalent in all organic matter, but also in elemental bodies, that is to say, water, earth, and fire. The globe in the beginning was a rigid rock, upon which air and water effected their power of assimilation.
Assimilation is only possible by dissolving. For the purpose of assimilation, air and water dissolved the earth’s crust; by the agency of those powers that surface originated which produces and nourishes all organic bodies. As these exist in the same world in which the elements continually exercise their power of dissolving and assimilating, it follows, that from the beginning there must have been developed in all organic elements the same power, as a protection to themselves.
Air dissolves water into vapours, in order to assimilate gases from it. Water extracts from air the oxygen gas.
Fire absorbs the oxygen of air, dissolves water into its two component parts, hydrogen and oxygen, and by converting the former to a flame, transforms water to fire; air absorbs many gases which fire releases from combustibles; air draws gases from the soil, the soil absorbs the oxygen of the air. In this way the elements are in a constant conflict, each endeavouring to dissolve the other, and to assimilate its matters with itself. Organic bodies draw oxygen from the air by the process of respiration, which is also the property of plants: these draw all assimilatory matter which the earth offers by their roots. The same process is performed by animals feeding on plants or herbs; whereas, on the contrary, fire resolves all organic matter into its original elements. This same process is carried out by water and air, with all organic beings, but as long as these are living they only get their evaporation, and after death their entirety. The earth exercises this power but conditionally and partially, viz. upon all animals that exist in it, and on all roots of plants; upon mankind the earth only exercises its power of assimilation after death. The proofs of this conflict of assimilation in organic matter itself are clear, one animal eats the other as well as plants; that is to say, it absorbs by the agency of the stomach so much of their substance as may be assimilated. Plants again convert parts of dead bodies and other plants (the manure) into their own substance.
Besides this power of assimilation, there exists in every being, element and organisation, the necessity of being exposed to foreign assimilation.
This is the fundamental principle of the true doctrine of healing. In support of this theory, we find that water, if withdrawn from the power of dissolution by the fresh air, stinks and putrefies. Air loses its oxygen and becomes mephitic, if it does not find water or plants with which it can enter into the conflict of dissolution and assimilation.
Animals and plants fall ill and die if their surface is so covered that neither air nor water can act upon them. If nourishment is withdrawn from any organic being, that is to say, if it is deprived of the opportunity of assimilating with external or foreign substances, death is caused by the want of a supply of healthy juices; if, on the contrary, this being is deprived of the influence or effect of this foreign power of dissolution, illness is the consequence, arising from the putridity of matter, from which putridity the system ought to have been released by the agency of foreign assimilation.
XXX.—The Crisis.
“Most blessed water! neither tongue can tell The blessedness thereof, nor heart can think, Save only those to whom it hath been given To taste of that divinest gift of heaven. “I stoop’d and drank of that divinest well, Fresh from the Rock of Ages where it ran, It had a heavenly quality to quell All pain: I rose a renovated man; And would not now, when that relief was known For worlds the needful suffering have forgone.”
To those unaccustomed to the Water-cure treatment, the Crisis is looked upon as something beyond human endurance; but by those who understand the nature of it, its arrival is hailed with joy, as the forerunner of a favourable termination to their sufferings. A Crisis has a two-fold object, the restoration of the animal functions to the condition of health, and the cure of a disease. It is not therefore a necessary consequence of the treatment; since, if there be no disease, the body is free from vitiated matter, and no eruption can appear; but if noxious matters exist in the system, whatever temporary relief be obtained by drugs or ointment, no permanent beneficial effect can be produced until they are extracted. Otherwise, original health, that is, the same muscular power and elasticity of body proportionately dealt out to all animals, will never be obtained during the life of an individual. Nature, to effect the elimination of non-nutritious matter, may resort to measures imperceptible to the patient, such as evaporation caused by ablutions, by relaxation of the bowels, or other evacuatory means. Although for twelve months, whilst at Gräfenberg, I went through all the necessary processes, I never had any perceptible crisis, except a slight water-rash, and the same may be said of many friends of mine, who have passed through the treatment.
There is a critical period, if the treatment is persevered in: it is when Nature is about to resume her power over the disease, the latter having been attacked, and seeking to escape. It may be compared to a tiger which a man is tempting in his lair: for a time, it lies dormant, occasionally giving signs of existence, when suddenly the animal rouses, and a violent struggle ensues. The man however proves the strongest of the two. In all future attacks too, which are less vigorous, the tiger is defeated, until he finally quits his lair, and flies from his human conqueror. Thus at last are old diseases eradicated. In acute cases, the first rencontre often settles the affair.
Under the Water-cure it frequently happens that every evil and pain is increased in intensity from the fact of the strength being always progressing. The weak and debilitated feel little pain; feebleness has produced insensibility. As the vital force diminishes, in the same proportion are the symptoms less violent; but when strength and vigour are daily gaining ground, so do the symptoms become more vigorous and intense. Nature is in a state of revolution; and, by being reinstated in her rights, she has declared war with all foreign powers that ventured to invest her citadel, and trample upon her rights and laws during the period of her prostration.
An officer in the Prussian army, author of the most concise and best-written work on the Water-cure, told me that at Gräfenberg six years ago he was radically cured of a complication of diseases: that he had the so-called crisis; the first attack was painful and distressing in the extreme; rheumatism returned to each part where he had previously felt it; his foot, which some years before had been trodden upon by a horse, became exceedingly painful; his hands and feet swelled to double their ordinary size, and there was a discharge of an offensive nature from them. This lasted for about ten days. In the course of his cure he had two other attacks, each inferior in intensity to the preceding one. After the last, he found his hearing, of which he had been deprived two years, restored; he could walk as well as ever he did, a necessary pleasure of which rheumatism had deprived him; in fact, he left Gräfenberg a new man, and has ever since been perfectly well. This gentleman said that, whilst in a fortress, with his regiment, almost all the officers, except himself, suffered from influenza, whilst he escaped, from drinking cold water and taking several ablutions a day.
When a crisis is expected, Priessnitz increases the treatment, as he also does when it has made its appearance: instead of discouraging the crisis to proceed, he encourages it by all the means in his power. So that eruptions, boils, fever, diarrhœa, inflammation, or aught else brought out by the treatment, may be gradually reduced by it. In this stage of the Water-cure, no compromise can be made; the fight must be continued until the enemy quits the field.
A lady of my acquaintance, on the appearance of an eruption, gave up the treatment until it disappeared; the eruption took an inward direction and inflammation of the lungs was the consequence: the most vigorous measures were now resorted to by Priessnitz, or her life would, most probably, have paid the forfeit. Another lady was treating herself to great advantage. After some time, when some boils made their appearance, she became uneasy and low-spirited. Alarmed, she left off the cure; the boils receded, and a fever succeeded them, which, as she could not procure advice, ended in a painful illness. When hydropathy was first introduced into England, the death of a clergyman, who had been treated by it, caused a great sensation. This gentleman went to an establishment on the Rhine, where he staid two or three months: on his determining to leave, the doctor, who saw indications of a Crisis, advised him to stay. The patient disregarded this advice and proceeded home; when, as predicted, a number of boils appeared. Mistaking these friends for enemies, he sent for a medical man, who declared the boils to arise from poverty of the blood, administered something to cause them to retire, and advised him to drink wine and beer, and live freely. As might have been expected, the result was fatal.
Had this gentleman been subjected to the Packing-sheet followed by Tepid-bathing; and had the boils been constantly bandaged, his health would, doubtless, have been improved.
I have known patients, whose blood was in an unhealthy state, throw out boils for months; but who, from constantly applying bandages to them, suffered but little inconvenience.
At some of the establishments in Germany, when a crisis is indicated, it is the practice to recommend patients to diminish the treatment or quit it altogether, thus throwing away the golden opportunity of realising health. Whilst at others with a limited knowledge of the Hydropathic treatment, some practitioners resort to Allopathic or Homoæpathic means of mitigating nature’s effort to escape her bonds. Let not such men be trusted: they know not what they do. When in Ireland, I treated a person of advanced age who had been confined to bed for twelve months. In two days he was able to walk out on crutches. After I left, a large boil came in his back: not understanding the matter he gave up the treatment. Instead of the boil being forced to a head, it retired, and he fell into his old state. Had this boil been encouraged to a large size, the patient would, after its bursting, have felt much relief.
It is a common practice, under medical treatment, to open a boil, and thus put an end to it—a quick method, no doubt, of affording relief; but the morbific matters that could have accumulated there, and been eliminated by it, remain in the system. Fevers again, under our medical treatment, are suppressed; whilst in the Water-cure, the morbific heat is extracted by the pores, and the whole system cooled through the medium of the mucous membrane or skin.
It is in a crisis, that the mind of the great Water-king is made manifest. Such is the unbounded confidence of patients in him, that most of them ardently desire to pass through this ordeal. It must be observed, that, though it is sometimes a painful period, the assuaging power of the bandages, the non-necessity of confinement or abstinence from the usual diet, and the perfect security every one feels as to the result, renders it endurable. It is at the same time equally true, and worthy the attention of any one about to undertake the cure, that during the revivifying process, weakness and lassitude are the pregnant attendants of the early part of it; and greatly disappointed would be that new aspirant to health who should fancy that all was couleur de rose. It is an old saying, and perhaps true, that all good things cost money or trouble; and the attainment of health, by the removal of long-standing complaints through the water-cure, is no exception to the rule. It is a delusion to suppose that inveterate diseases are to be cured by the water treatment, as by miracle, without suffering. Moral energy and firmness are necessary to go right through the ordeal. In such circumstances the patient must exert all his fortitude to adhere strictly to the instructions that are given to him.
XXXI.—Dropsy.
A frequent argument made use of against drinking water is, that it produces dropsy. Now, if this were true, it must be evident such a complaint ought not to exist amongst us—for whoever heard of an Englishman drinking too much water? On the contrary, the English nation is remarkable for an almost hydrophobic dislike to it.
The more the human body has been saturated with drugs, alcohols, and other foreign matters, the greater is the necessity for a free action of the pores and perspiration, because by these agents it seeks to relieve itself of diseased matter. When the skin is relaxed or incumbered by that oily exhalation which is constantly exuding from the pores, and too often suffered to remain on the surface, fluids collect beneath the skin and cause inflammation—this is called dropsy.
One of the greatest promoters of dropsy, as every medical man knows, is the lancet, by which the good blood is extracted and a watery fluid substituted. Strong poisons of whatever nature they may be, either mercury, blue pill, calomel, bark, iodine, or any other of the ten thousand drugs from which relief is sought, and for which alcohols or other stimulants are persevered in, tend to vitiate the juices, and produce gout, dropsy, and numberless complaints from which the habitual water-drinker is exempt.
No modern writer on dropsy attributes it to drinking water, nor, observes Dr. Johnson, is there anything in the physiology of the capillary system of vessels which can warrant such an opinion; on the contrary, drinking largely of diluting liquids is always recommended as an important part of the cure of dropsy. Dr. Gregory, author of the Theory and Practice of Medicine, states that “no diuretic medicines are likely to be of service, without very copious dilution;” and adds, “there cannot be a greater error than to imagine that dropsical accumulations may be lessened by withholding liquid.”
From the returns of 1841, within the city of London and bills of mortality, amongst a people opposed to the use of cold water in any way, we find that from dropsy alone the deaths amounted to 584.
Is not this fact alone sufficient to carry conviction to our minds, that dropsy is not the effect of water drinking? It may be safely affirmed that those who never take physic and who adhere to a water diet, will never be attacked with dropsy.
This complaint, except when of long standing, or under very extraordinary circumstances, is generally curable.
XXXII.—Smoking.
“Though smoking is decidedly prejudicial to health, it is not so bad as drinking to excess.”
“Smoking irritates the nerves and promotes the secretion of saliva, which is withdrawn from digestion.”5
“By blunting the nerves, a man, as in drinking, may stand a great deal of smoking without being visibly affected by it.”
“A person who, previously to undergoing the water-cure, could drink a gallon of fermented liquor, may, after it, be affected by a single glass—from the fact of his nerves having recovered their sensibility.”
“Persons who previously to the treatment were great smokers, are frequently rendered ill by very little smoking after it.”
“The nerves are strong and vigorous in proportion to their sensibility and freshness.—He who goes through a thorough water-cure treatment, gains a great moral as well as physical command over himself.”
“It is generally the weak and debilitated who are the most sensual and debauched.”
“The sound man has purer tastes, independent of his greater self-command.”
“We find amongst the children of nature, amongst simple peasants who have had but little contact with civilisation, the purest virtue and truest feelings of honor.”—Priessnitz.
Observations.—Persons who consider themselves in health, will derive advantage by six weeks’ or two months’ treatment at Gräfenberg, and will learn how to apply it to themselves or families.
Parents will there acquire the habit of using cold water, be prepared to ward off disease from themselves, and learn, by simple means, how to preserve the health of their children.
Officers in the army, who have an insight into hydropathy, will have nothing to fear from epidemics; they will find that fevers and inflammations are diseases which form the easiest part of Mr. Priessnitz’ practice.
The water at Gräfenberg has no advantage over that which we find everywhere, except that it is peculiarly cold and fresh. In the general purposes of the cure, water should be soft, that is to say, it must possess the quality of dissolving, and for this reason it must be cold, and divested of all mineral properties; for to prove its fitness, linen cloth washed in it must become white, and vegetables dressed in it tender. Trout living in water does not prove its softness, but frogs do; the softest of all waters is the rain. Hard water makes the skin rough, but soft water, on the contrary, renders it smooth. When water, with the slightest acidity in it, has been suffered to remain in leaden pipes, pumps or cisterns for any length of time, it absorbs the dangerous qualities of the lead; and this has been known to produce serious consequences. It is necessary, therefore, that water should be drawn off before any is drunk.
Those who wish to begin ablutions in winter, should do so in a warm room, and as a beginning, instead of washing, they may wet a towel, and with it be well rubbed all over twice a day, or use the rubbing-sheet. The morning immediately on getting out of bed, is the best time for the first ablution; the other should be undertaken two or three hours after eating, never on a full stomach, nor immediately after making any great exertion. The rubbing should be continued from three to five minutes.
It is conceived that one ablution a-day, and the drinking of cold water, will enable those who are in health, and in the enjoyment of life, to continue in that state. After any excess, instead of resorting to drugs, the rubbing sheet should be resorted to, and an increase in cold water as a beverage. The same means may be resorted to by persons who have any reason to suppose that they have caught cold.
In answer to the question, whether there is not some risk of catching cold whilst washing, we answer, “Not the least.” There is no better way of guarding against colds, or of hardening the skin, to contend with atmospheric changes. But in cold weather it is as well that all the body should be wetted simultaneously. Even in cold weather the temperature of the room to which the body is exposed, is higher or warmer than the water used, which cannot, in consequence, produce a cold. The contrary remark may be applied to warm water, as we have all experienced on getting out of a warm bath even in summer. A Russian lady of the author’s acquaintance took a warm bath immediately after dinner, the result was, a want of reaction, and a complete paralysation of the whole of one side of the body.
Before entering cold water, we ought to wash the head and the chest, in order to prevent the blood ascending to those regions.
People, without knowing whether hot or mineral waters will be beneficial or otherwise, make use of them because it is the fashion so to do, or because their application is agreeable. A little reflection would show them that there will not be a wholesome reaction; that taken inwardly they must necessarily injure or destroy the coats of the stomach; and when applied outwardly, weaken the skin, thereby rendering the body susceptible to every change of weather.
Those who resort to sea-bathing in general pay little or no attention to diet. To derive advantage from a trip to any of our watering places, the latter, for the time at least, should be attended to.
The fact that the action of the human heart is repeated at least one hundred thousand times a-day, with sufficient force to keep in continual movement a mass of from 50 to 60 lbs. of blood, might lead to the inquiry what watch, what machinery could be more easily deranged? Can we wonder at men being ill who are constantly eating too much, who indulge in acid wines, in thick and adulterated beer, or spirituous liquors, or hot liquids of whatsoever nature they may be?
Few of us sufficiently appreciate pure cold water. What will not man submit to rather than adopt such means of cure—adapt himself to such self-denial? What pain will he not endure; what poisons swallow or rub into his flesh, rather than consent to seek relief from such a humble source?
Animals, when thirsty, repair to the brook to quench their thirst; when wounded, to assuage the pain. Water is nature’s medicine and man despises it.
What organic matter can grow or live without water? We know that animals or plants excluded from its influence die. Observe the vivifying effects of water upon vegetation after a shower. Then what shall be said to vain, short-sighted man, who sets nature’s laws at defiance, by avoiding what they enjoin, and indulging in what they interdict? Why should he live without water more than all else that has life? It may be answered “He does not live his time;” for every day’s experience proves that more than half the inhabitants of the civilised world are tormented by one disease or another, which causes them to die before the natural term of life is completed. This, evidently, was not the intention of Divine Providence, since water, found every where, will prevent or cure disease, enable human beings to attain a good old age, and die without pain.
Stiffened joints, the dull eye, thickness of breathing, an unnatural tendency to corpulency, wrinkles, baldness, bad sight, and sallowness of complexion, are failings which clearly indicate an habitual distaste for water. It cannot be doubted, that in many of these cases, the mere drinking plentifully of water, and washing the body once a day, would afford relief. If they had always been accustomed to this they would not have been thus affected.