The author has been, for several years, engaged in a warfare against the
use of the lancet in the treatment of the various diseases of animals.
When this warfare was first commenced, the prospect was poor indeed. The
lancet was the great anti-phlogistic of the allopathic school; it had
powerful, talented, and uncompromising advocates, who had been
accustomed to resort to it on all occasions, from the early settlement
of America up to that period. The great mass had followed in the
footsteps of their predecessors, supposing them to be infallible. Men
and animals were bled; rivers of blood have been drawn from their
systems; yet they often got well, and men looked upon the lancet as one
of the blessings of the age, when, in fact, it is the greatest curse
that ever afflicted this country: it has produced greater losses to
owners of domestic animals than did ever pestilence or disease. A few
philanthropic practitioners have, from time to time, in other countries,
as well as in this, labored during their life, and on their death-bed,
to convince the world of the destructive tendency of blood-letting in
human practice; but none that we know of ever had the moral courage to
wage a general warfare against the practice in the veterinary
department, until we commenced it. We have met with great success, and
have given the blood-letting gentry who practise it at the present day
("just to please their employers or to make out a case") a partial
quietus: in a few more years, unless they abandon their false theories,
their occupation, notwithstanding their pretensions to cure _secundum
artem_, will, like Othello's, be "gone." But we are not writing for
doctors. Our business is with the farmers--the lords of creation. The
former are mere lords of pukes and purges; they, like the farmers, have
the materials, however, to mould themselves into men of common sense;
but the fact is, they are hide-bound; they want a national sweat, to rid
their systems, especially their upper works, of the theories of Sydenham
and Paracelsus, which have shipwrecked many thousands of the medical
profession. They shut their eyes to the results of medical reform, and
cling, with all their soul, and with all their might, worthy a better
cause, to a system that "always was false."
Lord Byron, like many other learned men, was well acquainted with the
impotency of the healing art, and held the lancet in utter abhorrence:
when beset, day and night, to be bled, the bard, in an angry tone,
exclaimed, "You are, I see, a d----d set of butchers; take away as much
blood as you like." "We seized the opportunity," says Dr. Milligan, "and
drew twenty ounces; yet the relief did not correspond to the hopes we
had formed." On the 17th, the bleeding was twice repeated, dangerous
symptoms still increasing, and on the 19th he expired, just about bled
to death. Washington, a man whose name is dear to every American, died
from the effects of an evil system of medication. He was attacked with
croup: his physician bled him, and gave him calomel and antimony. The
next day, physicians were called in, (to share the responsibility of the
butchery,) and he was subjected to two more copious bleedings: in all he
lost ninety ounces of blood. Which of our readers, at the present day,
would submit to such unwarrantable barbarity? We just said we were not
writing for doctors; yet we find ourselves off the track in thus
administering a small dose, as a sample of "_good and efficient
treatment_."
In reference to the success attending our labors in veterinary reform,
we do not claim the whole credit: much of it is due to the intelligence
of the American farmers, in appreciating the value and importance of a
safer and a more effectual system of medication; such a system as we
advocate. They have witnessed the results attending the practice of
cattle doctors generally, and they have seen the results of our sanative
system of medication, and a great majority in Massachusetts have decided
in favor of the latter. We have demonstrated to the satisfaction of our
patrons, and we are ready and willing to repeat our experiments on
diseased animals for the satisfaction of others, in showing that we can
restore an animal, when suffering under acute attacks of disease, in a
few hours, when, by the popular method, it takes weeks and months, if
indeed they ever recover from the effects of the destructive agents
used.
We are told that "horses and cattle are bled and get well immediately."
This may apply to some cases; but, in very many instances, the animals
are sent for a few weeks to "Dr. Green,"[1] to put them in the same
condition they were at the time of bleeding. But suppose that some
animals do get well after bleeding; is it thus proved that more would
not get well if no blood were drawn from any? A cow may fall down, and,
in so doing, lacerate her muscles, blood-vessels, &c., and lose a large
quantity of blood. She may get well, in spite of the violence and loss
of blood. So we say of blood-letting, if the abstraction of a certain
number of gallons of blood will kill a strong animal, then the
abstraction of a small quantity must injure it proportionately.
There is in the animal economy a power, called the vital principle,
which always operates in favor of health. If the provocation be gentle,
and does not seriously derange the machinery, then this power may
overcome both it and any disease the animal may at the time labor under.
For example, a horse falls down in the street, perhaps laboring under a
temporary congestion of the brain: now, if he were let alone until
nature has restored an equilibrium of the circulating fluid and nervous
action, he would soon get up and proceed on his way, as many thousands
do when a knife or lancet is not to be had. But, unfortunately, people
are too hasty. The moment a beast has fallen, they are bound to have him
on his perpendiculars in double quick time. The teamster cannot wait for
nature; she is "too slow a coach" for him. He tries what virtue there is
in the whip; this failing, he obtains a knife, if one is to be had, and
"_starts the blood_." By this time, nature, about resuming her empire,
causes the horse to show signs of returning animation, and the credit is
awarded to the blood-starter. Animals are often bled when diseased, and
the prominent symptoms that previously marked the character of the
malady disappear, or give place to symptoms of another order, less
evident, and men have supposed that a cure is effected, when, in fact,
they have just sown the seeds of a future disease. We are not bound to
prove, in every case, how an animal gets well after two or three
repeated bleedings. It is enough for us to prove that this operation
always tends to death, which can easily be produced by opening the
carotid artery of an animal.
Permit us, dear reader, at this stage of our article, to observe, that
"confession is good for the soul." We mean to put it in practice. So
here goes. We plead guilty to bleeding, blistering, calomelizing,
narcotizing, antimonializing, a great number of patients of the human
kind. We did it in our verdant days, because it was so scientific and
popular, and because we had been taught to reverence the stereotyped
practice of the allopathists. We have, however, done penance, and sought
forgiveness; and through the aid of a few men, devoted to medical
reform, we have been washed in the regenerating waters flowing through
the vineyard of reason and experience, and now advocate and observe the
self-regulating powers of the laws of life. On the other hand, we are
free from the charge of bleeding or poisoning domestic animals, and can
say, with a clear conscience, that we have never drawn a drop of blood
from a four-footed creature, (except in surgical operations, when it
could not be avoided;) neither will we, under any circumstances, resort
to the lancet; for we are convinced that blood-letting is a powerful
depressor of the vital powers.
Blood is the fuel that keeps the lamp of life burning; if the fuel be
withdrawn, the light is extinguished.
Professor Lobstein says, "So far from blood-letting being beneficial, it
is productive of the most serious consequences--a cruel practice, and a
scourge to humanity. How many thousands are sent by it to an untimely
grave! Without blood there is no heat, no motion in the body."
Dr. Reid says, "If the employment of the lancet was abolished
altogether, it would perhaps save annually a greater number of lives
than pestilence ever destroyed."
The fact of blood-letting having been practised by horse and cattle
doctors from time immemorial is certainly not a clear proof of its
utility, nor is it a sufficient recommendation that it may be practised
with safety. During my professional career, the preconceived theories
have commanded a due share of consideration; and, when weighed in the
scale of uninfluenced experience, they never failed of falling short. If
we grant that any deviation from the healthy state denotes debility of
one or more functions, then whatever has a tendency to debilitate
further cannot restore the animal to health. The following case will
serve to illustrate our position: "A horse was brought to be bled,
merely because he had been accustomed to it at that season of the year.
I did not examine him minutely; but as the groom stated there was
nothing amiss with him, I directed a moderate quantity of blood to be
drawn. About five pints were taken off; and while the operator was
pinning up the wound, the horse fell. He appeared to suffer much pain,
and had considerable difficulty of breathing. In this state he remained
twelve hours, and then died. Judging from the appearances at the post
mortem examination, it is probable that a loss of a moderate quantity of
blood caused a fatal interruption of the functions of the heart."
It is strange that such cases as these do not open men's eyes, and
compel them to acknowledge that there is something wrong in the medical
world. Such cases as these furnish us with unanswerable arguments
against blood-letting; for as the blood, which is the natural stimulus
of, and gives strength to, the organs, is withdrawn, its abstraction
leaves all those organs less capable of self-defence.
Horse and cattle doctors have recommended bleeding when animals have
been fed too liberally, or if their systems abound in morbific matter.
Now, the most sensible course would be, provided the animal had been
overfed, to reduce the quantity of food, or, in other words, remove the
cause. If the secretions are vitiated, or in a morbid state, then
regulate them by the means laid down in this work. For we cannot purify
a well of water by abstracting a few buckets; neither can we purify the
whole mass of blood by taking away a few quarts; for that which is left
will still be impure. If the different parts had between them partitions
impervious to fluids, then there would be some sense in drawing out of
the vessels over-filled; but unfortunately, if you draw from one, you
draw from all the rest.
In every disease wherein bleeding has been used, complete recovery has
been protracted, and the animal manifests the debility by swelled legs
and other unmistakable evidences. In some cases, however, the ill
effects of the loss of blood, unless excessive, are not always
immediately perceived; yet such animals, in after years, are subject to
staggers, and diseases of the lungs, pleura, and peritoneum.
Dr. Beach says, "The blood is properly called the _vital fluid_, and the
life of a person is said to be in the blood.[2] We know that just in
proportion to the loss of this substance are our vigor and strength
taken from us. When taken from the system by accident or the lancet, it
is succeeded by great prostration of strength, and a derangement of all
the functions of the body. These effects are invariably, in a greater
or less degree, consequent on bleeding. Is it not, then, reasonable to
suppose, that what will debilitate the strongest constitution in a state
of health, will be attended with most serious evils when applied to a
person laboring under any malady? Is it not like throwing spirits on a
fire to extinguish it?
"Bleeding is resorted to in all inflammatory complaints; but did
practitioners know the nature and design of inflammation, their
treatment would be different. In fever it is produced by an increased
action of the heart and arteries, to expel acrid and noxious humors, and
should be promoted until the irritating matter is dislodged from the
system. This should be effected, in general, by opening the outlets of
the body, inducing perspiration; to produce which a preternatural degree
of heat or inflammation must be excited by internal remedies. Fever is
nothing more or less than a wholesome and salutary effort of nature to
throw off some morbific matter; and, therefore, every means to lessen
this indication proves injurious. Bleeding, in consequence of the
debility it produces, prevents such indication from being fulfilled."
The inveterate phlebotomizers recommend and practise bleeding when "_the
animal has too much blood_." There may be at times too much blood, and
at others too little; but suppose there is--has any body found out any
better method of reducing what they please to term an excess, than that
of regular exercise in the open air, combined with a less quantity of
fodder than usual? Or has any body found out any method of making good
healthy blood, other than the slow process of nature, as exhibited in
the results of digestion, secretion, circulation, and nutrition? Have
they discovered any artificial means of restoring the blood to its
healthful quantity when it is deficient? Have they found any means of
purifying the blood, save the healthful operations of nature's secreting
and excreting laboratory? Finally, have they found any safety-valve or
outlet for the reduction of this excess other than the excrementitious
vessels? And if they have, are they better able to adjust the pressure
on that valve than He who made the whole machinery, and knows the
relative strength of all its parts? In an article on blood-letting,
found in the Farmer's Cyclopaedia, the author says, "In summer, bleeding
is often necessary to prevent fevers." Now, it is evident that nature's
preventives are air, exercise, food, water, and sleep. Attention to the
rules laid down in this work, under the heads of _Watering_, _Feeding_,
&c., will be more satisfactory and less dangerous than that recommended
by the Cyclopaedia. If the directions given in the latter were fully
carried out, the stock of our farms would be swept away as by the blast
of a tornado. Such a barbarous system would entail universal misery and
degeneracy on all classes of live stock; and we might then exclaim,
"They are living, yet half dead--victims to an inconsistent system of
medication!" But thanks to a discerning public, they just begin to see
the absurdity and wickedness of draining the system of the living
principles. Veterinary reform has germinated in the New England States,
and, in spite of all opposition, has struck its roots deep into the
minds of a class of men who have the means and power to send forth its
healing branches, and apply them to their own interest and the welfare
of their stock.
The same author continues: "Some farmers bleed horses three or four
times a year." We hope the farmers have too much good sense to follow
the wicked example of the former. Frequent bleeding is an indirect mode
of butchery--killing by inches; for it gives to the blood-vessels the
power to contract and adapt themselves to the measure of blood that
remains. It impoverishes the blood, and leads to hydrothorax,
(accumulation of water in the chest,) and materially shortens life.
Mackintosh says, "Some are bled who cannot bear it, and others who do
not require it; and the result is death." The conservative power of life
always operates in favor of health, and resists the encroachments upon
her province with all her might, and often recovers the dominion; but by
frequent bleedings, she is exhausted, and, on taking a little more blood
than usual, the animal drops down and dies; and the owner attributes to
disease what, in fact, is the result of bad treatment.
"Patients who recover after general and copious bleedings have been
employed, may attribute their recovery to the strength of their
constitution.
"If you should ask a modern _Sangrado_ what was most necessary in the
treatment of disease, doubtless he would reply, 'Bleeding.'
"Our modern pathologists, surgeons and others, think bleeding the
_factotum_ in all maladies; it is the _ne plus ultra_, when drawn in
large quantities. Blood-letting, say these authors, is not only the most
powerful and important, but the most generally used, of all our
remedies. Scarcely a case of acute, or, indeed, of chronic, disease
occurs in which it does not become necessary to consider the propriety
of having recourse to the lancet." (??) To what extent blood-letting is
carried, in our modern age, may be learned by reading Youatt and others,
who recommend it "when animals rub themselves, and the hair falls off;
when the eyes appear dull and languid, red or inflamed; in all
inflammatory complaints, as of the brain, lungs, kidneys, bowels, womb,
bladder, and joints; in all bruises, hurts, wounds, and all other
accidents; in cold, catarrh, paralysis, and locked-jaw." Yet, strange to
say, one of these authors qualifies his recommendations as follows: "No
man, however wise, can tell exactly how much blood ought to be taken in
a given case." Now, it is well known that the draining of blood from a
vein, though it diminishes the vital resistance, and lessens the volume
of fluids, does not mend the matter; for it thus gives to cold and
atmospheric agents the ascendant influence. A collapse takes place, the
secretions become impaired, the animal refuses its food, "looks
dumpish," &c.
We might continue this article to an indefinite length; but as we shall,
in the following pages, have occasion to refer to the use of the lancet
as a destructive agent, we conclude it with the following remarks of an
English physician: "Our most valuable remedies against inflammation are
but ill adapted for curing that state of disease. They do not act
directly on the diseased part; the action is only indirect; therefore it
is imperfect. Bleeding, the best of any of these remedies, is in this
predicament."