Hippocrates apparently tried to reduce the acridity of the seeds so as

to make them more useful as purgatives. Dioscorides alludes to their

purgative properties, but only contemplates the external employment of

the oil in medicine. Pliny, however, is more explicit. Chapter xli., of

Book 23 begins with the sentence: “Oleum cicinum bibitur ad purgationes

ventris cum pari calidæ mensura.” The whole passage is of interest.

The following is the translation of it given in Bohn’s “Classical

Library” (Dr. Bostock): “Castor oil taken with an equal quantity of

warm water acts as a purgative upon the bowels. It is said, too, that

as a purgative it acts particularly upon the regions of the diaphragm

(precordia). It is useful for diseases of the joints, all kinds of

indurations, affections of the uterus and ears, and for burns, employed

with the ashes of the murex; it heals itch, scabs, and inflammations of

the fundament. It improves the complexion also, and by its fertilising

tendencies promotes the growth of the hair. The cicus or seed from

which this oil is made no animal will touch, and from these grape-like

seeds wicks are made which burn with a peculiar brilliancy. The light,

however, that is produced by the oil is very dim, in consequence of its

extreme thickness. The leaves are applied topically with vinegar for

erysipelas. Fresh gathered they are used by themselves for diseases of

the mamillæ and defluxions. A decoction of them in wine with polenta

and saffron is good for inflammations of various kinds. Boiled by

themselves and applied to the face for three successive days they

improve the complexion.”

In Egypt and Rome, therefore, Ricinus was evidently esteemed; and

though as a medicine they dropped largely out of use, it is clear from

old English physic books that a traditional reputation was always

associated with both the seeds and the oil. Gerard, in his “Herbal,”

and Piso, in an account of the natural history of the West Indies,

both recommend them, the former in broth, the latter in the form of a

tincture made with brandy for colic and constipation. Gerard states

that the Palma Christi “of America” grew in his garden (in Holborn) and

in many other gardens likewise. The seeds, however, came to be regarded

as dangerous, and were clearly but little used in orthodox medicine.

Quincy (1724) refers to them as “hardly ever met with in practice,

unless amongst empirics and persons of no credit.”

In 1764, however, Dr. Peter Canvane, of Bath, who had practised for

seven years in the West Indies, published a treatise entitled “A

Dissertation on the Oleum Palmæ Christi, sive Oleum Ricini, or (as it

is commonly call’d) Castor Oil,” in which he warmly recommended the oil

as a gentle purgative, particularly in cases of “dry belly ache.” His

advocacy soon took effect, for in the second edition of his treatise

published in 1769, he says it had become officinal, by which he meant

was sold in the shops, “at Apothecaries Hall and several other shops in

London and Bath.” Dr. Odier, of Geneva, who visited England in 1776,

became then acquainted with the medicine, and subsequently brought

it to the notice of Continental physicians. It was admitted into the

London Pharmacopœia in 1788.

The name “Ricinus” was in Latin the name of the parasite known as the

dog-tick, _Ixodes ricinus_, and was transferred to the Palma

Christi seeds because of their resemblance to the insect. In Greek the

same insect was called the kroton, and Theophrastus and Dioscorides

describe the Palma Christi seeds as kroton seeds. Curiously the name

kroton has been applied in America to the cockroach, not from any

association with ticks, but from a belief that the insects came from

the Croton River when the water from that source was brought to New

York in 1842. The name of castor oil is supposed to have been given

to the oil in consequence of a mistaken idea in the Western Indies

that the plant which yielded the seeds was _Agnus Castus_. There

was, however, a castor oil and compound castor oil in medicinal use in

England and other countries until the eighteenth century. The simple

oil was made by digesting castorum in oil and boiling it with wine

until the latter had all evaporated. The compound oil contained besides

a number of aromatic gums and spices. Possibly the taste of the oil

from the Palma Christi seeds recalled that from the old oil of castor,

and the name may thus have been transferred.

CINCHONA.

It is not possible to determine from the legends and reports collected

by the many competent naturalists who visited Peru in the seventeenth

and eighteenth centuries with the special object of investigating

the history of the cinchona trees whether it was known or used as

a medicine by the natives before its virtues were ascertained by

Europeans.

Peru was discovered in 1513, and became subject to Spain about the

middle of the sixteenth century. But Hanbury points out that no

reference to the bark as a febrifuge has been found earlier than the

beginning of the seventeenth century. It was reported by La Condamine,

and others who acquired their knowledge on the spot, that the Indians

had long used the bark as a dye. The Countess Ana of Chinchon, wife of

the Spanish Viceroy of Peru, was cured of a fever by the bark in 1638,

but there is evidence that its medicinal value had been experienced

by some of the conquering race before that date. One story is that

when the Countess was ill and all the usual remedies had been found

ineffective, the Corregidor of Loxa, Don Juan Lopez Canizares, who

had himself been cured by the bark of a similar illness, brought some

of the remedy from Loxa to Lima and staked his reputation on its

infallibility. After her cure the Countess became an enthusiastic

advocate of the medicine, administering it with uniform success to her

dependents and others in Lima, and on her return to Spain in 1640,

exerting herself to make it known there.

Another story is to the effect that a native maid in the employment

of the Countess had made known the virtues of the bark to the Viceroy

out of affection for her mistress, though until then the Indians had

concealed the secret from their cruel rulers. The most likely account

is that the bark had become known as a valuable medicine to the Jesuit

missionaries who had been in the country for fully fifty years when the

Countess of Chinchon was cured.

Le Condamine stated, in 1738, that the Indians had a legend that they

had become acquainted with the properties of the bark in consequence of

an earthquake in the neighbourhood of Loxa which had caused a number of

the trees surrounding a lake near the city to be thrown into the water.

An Indian violently ill with a fever and consumed with thirst had drunk

water from this lake and had been rapidly cured. Another tradition was

that the pumas of the country had been observed to eat the bark when

they were ill, and that the Indians had learned its value from this

circumstance.

The Count and Countess of Chinchon returned to Spain, as has been said,

in 1640. They went to live on their estate at Chinchon Castle, about

forty miles from Madrid, and their physician, Juan del Vego, followed

them and resided at Seville. Vego brought with him a considerable

quantity of the bark from Peru, and sold it at 100 reals per pound.

Sprengel queries whether the real of Plata or the real of Vellon is to

be understood; the latter was worth about 2d., the Plata or silver real

being worth about 8d. It is not at all certain that Vego’s bark was the

first importation of the medicine into Spain. A Spanish physician named

Villerobel, quoted by Badus in 1663 in a work on the Peruvian bark,

states that a quantity was received in 1632, but was not tried until

1639 (a year after the cure of the Countess, it will be noted). The

patient was an ecclesiastic of Alcala de Henarez, near Madrid. However

this may be, Vego’s reports and the experiments with his bark excited

lively interest all through Spain, and from then began a controversy

almost as bitter as that between the Galenists and Paracelsists. There

were a large number of practitioners who could not bring themselves

to believe in any medicine which Galen had not described. It was also

alleged by some contemporary writers that a prompt cure of intermittent

fevers was not by any means desired by a large number of medical men

and apothecaries, who consequently allied themselves in opposition

to this very effective bark. This statement is no doubt due to the

usual uncharitableness of controversy; but it is possible that the

adversaries of the new remedy might at least cling to their old

prejudices with not less firmness when these and their interests ran on

parallel lines.

Fevers were at that time regarded as caused by some morbific principle

in the humours which occasioned effervescence, and which it was

essential first of all to expel. The patient was, therefore, treated

with evacuants and debilitating medicines while the fever continued,

and the vital spirits were afterwards restored by a course of cordials

and bitters, such as wormwood, chamomile flowers, mace, carduus

benedictus, angelica, and valerian. The opponents of the bark insisted

that if it palliated the fever it “fixed the humour” and ensured a

relapse or some other more dangerous disease. In 1652 Leopold William,

Archduke of Austria, and Governor of the Low Countries, who had

interested himself in popularising the bark, fell ill with a quaternian

fever. He took bark and recovered. A relapse occurred, but the

complaint again yielded to the remedy. Some time after he had another

attack. This time, perhaps influenced by the views already quoted, he

refused to take bark and died. This event was regarded, illogically

enough, as evidence of the dangerous character of the medicine.

Meanwhile, the Jesuits had been busy propagating the new remedy and

proving its virtues. The provincial father brought a large supply to

Rome, and explained the method of using it to a congress of Jesuits

then assembled in that city. The fathers administered it all over

Europe, giving it gratuitously to the poor and to their own order,

but charging its weight in gold to the rich. It is said that they

endeavoured to keep it as a secret medicine, and would only supply

it in powder so that it might be more difficult to identify. The

Procurator-General of the order, Father (afterwards Cardinal) de Lugo,

making a journey to Paris in 1649, found the king, Louis XIV, himself

suffering at the time from an intermittent fever. He recommended to

him the use of the bark, and Louis took it and quickly recovered.

The powder of the Cardinal, the Powder of the Fathers, the Jesuits’

Powder, by which names among others it was known, consequently came

into strong demand. But these titles were largely responsible for the

reaction which almost drove cinchona out of practice. Protestant fears

and prejudices were added to the orthodox opposition of the Galenists,

and besides, many practitioners administered the bark ignorantly, in

too small or too large doses, while the high prices at which it was

sold led to fraudulent substitution, which more than anything else

discredited the bark as a medicine. Sprengel quotes complaints from the

Cardinal de Lugo, the apothecary of the College of Medicine at Rome,

and Vincent Protospatario, a physician at Naples, who alleged that the

Spanish merchants were sending into Italy instead of the true Peruvian

bark various other astringent barks devoid of any aromatic taste, but

flavoured up to the necessary bitterness by aloes.

Although Sydenham in England, and a number of eminent physicians on

the Continent, studied the proper methods of administration and the

suitable doses of bark, it fell to a practitioner whose methods went a

long way to justify charges of charlatanry firmly to establish cinchona

in professional and popular favour.

Robert Talbor was assistant with an apothecary at Cambridge named Dear.

It has been ascertained that in 1663 he had been entered as a sizar at

St. John’s College for five years, but there is no indication that he

took a degree. In his writings he states that he was largely indebted

to a member of the University of the name of Nott for suggestions

relative to the administration of bark. The next heard of him is that

he was practising in Essex. This was about 1671. He wrote a book in

1672, which he called “Pyretologia,” a rational account of the cause

and cure of agues. In this he refers to his own secret remedy, which,

he says, consists of four ingredients, two indigenous and two exotic.

He mentions Peruvian bark and intimates that it is an excellent remedy,

but one that should be employed with prudence, as in the hands of

inexperienced doctors it might occasion serious evils. He does not say

that it was contained in his specific.

Talbor moved to London and set up his sign next door to Gray’s Inn

Gate, in Holborn. His treatment brought him into fame, the climax

of which was that having cured the daughter of Lady Mordaunt he was

sent for when Charles II was ill with an ague and cured him. He was

knighted, appointed a royal physician with a salary of £100 a year, and

the king caused a letter to be written to the College of Physicians

asking them not to interfere with his practice in London.

Talbor next figures in Paris, and there leaped into eminence. For

French convenience he assumed the name of Talbot, an English name with

which they were historically familiar. He soon became a favourite

in high circles. Mme. de Sévigné refers to him several times in her

letters of 1679. In one she says, “Nothing is talked of here but

the Englishman and his cures.” In November, 1780, the Dauphin was

dangerously ill with a fever. Talbor had plenty of friends at court who

wanted him to be sent for. Mme. de Sévigné is again the chronicler. She

writes:--“The Englishman has promised on his head to cure monseigneur

in four days.” If he fails she believes he will be thrown out of the

window. She further states that the King (Louis XIV) insisted on seeing

Talbor prepare his wine; and when she reports the fulfilment of his

promise and the cure of the Dauphin she notes with malicious glee the

discomfiture of the king’s head physician, Antoine d’Aquin.

D’Aquin wrote bitterly against Talbor, insisted that his treatment

of the Dauphin and of other persons had been founded on a mistaken

diagnosis, and that in the Dauphin’s case he had made a bilious fever

into a dangerous disorder. Another critic suggested that his remedy

given to the Duke of Rochefoucauld in an arthritic asthma had had fatal

consequences.

Louis agreed to buy Talbor’s formula, but nothing was published until

after the death of the latter. Two thousand guineas and an annual

pension of £100 were granted to the English doctor, and he was made a

Chevalier. Shortly afterwards he went to Spain and cured the queen of

that country of a fever. Then he returned to London and died in 1781,

at the early age of forty.

His official formula, published after his death, directed 6 drachms

of rose leaves to be infused in 6 ounces of water with 2 ounces of

lemon juice for four hours. A strong infusion of cinchona was added to

the above, together with some juice of persil or ache. He also made

alcoholic tinctures and wines of cinchona. The French doctors were sure

that he was in the habit of adding some opium to his speciality. If he

did he invented a valuable combination.

Another contemporary writer, John Jones, gives the following as

Talbor’s process. He digested finely-powdered bark in juice of persil

and decoction of anise separately. The mixture was placed in an

earthen vessel, and having been stirred frequently he added red wine

and macerated for a week. He also made a tincture of cinchona by adding

8 ounces of alcohol to 2 ounces of powdered bark.

From a handbill in a collection of quack advertisements in the British

Museum Library, dated “1675, &c.,” it appears that Dr. Charles Goodal,

who gave his address “at the Coach and Horses, near Physician’s

Colledge, Warwick Lane,” offers “for the public good a very superior

sort of Jesuit’s Bark, ready powdered, and papered into doses” at

4_s._ per ounce, or in quantity £3 per lb., and as evidence that

this is a reasonable price he refers to Mr. Thain, druggist, of Newgate

Street, to whom he had paid 9_s._ per lb. for a considerable

quantity. Possibly it was Mr. Thain who was advertising.

TINCT. CINCHONÆ CO.

The official formula for this tincture is slightly modified from that

devised by John Huxham, M.D., and published in his Essay on Fevers,

1755. It first appeared in the P.L. 1788 as a College preparation.

John Huxham was born as Totnes in 1692, and was the son of a butcher.

He studied medicine under Boerhaave at Leyden, but graduated M.D.

at Rheims. Then he returned to England and after a time settled

at Plymouth. He was a Nonconformist, and at first depended on the

dissenting portion of the population for his practice, but it did not

expand as fast as he wished and it is alleged that he was not above

some of the tricks satirised by novelists; as, for example, being

called out of chapel, riding at full speed through the streets,

walking about with a gold-headed cane, wearing a red coat and

followed by a footman who carried his gloves. He, however, acquired

a considerable reputation both locally and nationally; was elected

F.R.S. in 1739, and was awarded the Copley medal in 1755 for a treatise

on antimony in which he strongly recommended an Essentia or Vinum

Antimonii made by infusing 1 oz. of glass of antimony in 24 oz. of

sound Madeira wine for 10 or 12 days, then decanting and filtering. He

advised doses of 30 to 80 drops of this in tea, wine, beer, or other

liquid, as an alterant, attenuant, and diaphoretic. The treatise though

verbose does not seem to have had any special merit.

[Illustration: DR. HUXHAM.]

His Essay on Fevers was much more important and has been highly

esteemed by competent critics. He also wrote a valuable note on

scurvy in seamen, recommending a more abundant supply of vegetables

on voyages, and was the first to describe the malignant ulcerous sore

throat now called diphtheria.

Huxham’s formula for Tinct. Cinchonæ Co. as given by himself was as

follows:

Cort. Peruv. opt. pulv. ℥ ii, Flav. Aurant. Hispan. ℥ iss, Rad.

serpent. Virgin. ℥ iii, Croci Anglic. ℈ iv, Coccinel. ℈ ii, Sp. Vini

Gallici, (Brandy), ℥ xx. F. Infusio clausa per dies aliquot (tres

saltern quatuerve) deinde coletur. The dose was ʒ i to ℥ ss every 4,

6, or 8 hours with 10, 15, or 20 drops of elixir of vitriol in diluted

wine. Huxham says of this tincture “it tends to strengthen the Solids,

to prevent the further Dissolution and Corruption of the blood and in

the event to restore its Crassis.” He has previously stated that it is

a very useful remedy “not only in slow, nervous fevers, but also in the

putrid, pestilential, and petechial, especially in the Decline.” But he

adds, “if the patient is costive or hath a tense and humid abdomen, I

always premise a dose of rhubarb, manna, or the like.”

According to Dr. Paris, Huxham believed in complicated prescribing.

“There are several prescriptions of Huxham extant,” we read in

“Pharmacologia,” “which contain more than four hundred ingredients.”

CINCHONA OR CHINCHONA.

Sir Clements Markham, whose services in introducing cinchona culture

into India and Ceylon are well known, has earnestly insisted on the

adoption of the name chinchona instead of cinchona in justice to the

lady after whom the generic title was chosen. In a Memoir of the Lady

Ana de Osorio, Countess of Chinchon, Sir Clements Markham somewhat

extravagantly exalts that “illustrious and beautiful lady,” whom he

describes as “one of the most noble benefactors of the human race.” She

may have been an excellent woman, but her advocate does not furnish

sufficient evidence of her virtues to justify such lavish praise. The

Countess was cured of a fever by the bark, and on her return to Spain

she distributed the remedy to such of her vassals as needed it. Perhaps

her physician, who brought a quantity of the bark home with him and

sold it, did more to make it generally known than she did by her gifts.

Still there is no doubt that Linnæus intended by the name he gave to

the genus to perpetuate her memory; and it is likewise true that her

name was Chinchon and not Cinchon. The latter term, Sir Clements says,

means a broad girdle or a policeman’s belt, and makes the intended

honour ridiculous. His opinion was that Linnæus had erred in ignorance,

having been misled by several French writers. Daniel Hanbury, however,

who contested some of Markham’s assertions, gave good reasons for

believing that Linnæus had adopted the term cinchona deliberately

for the sake of euphony. Anyway he shows that Mutis, the disciple of

Linnæus, who sent him the plant from which he wrote his description,

while at first writing of chinchona soon followed the spelling of the

master and continued to do so.

The name cinchona and derivatives from it are too well established to

be dislodged now for a sentimental reason, even if it were not that the

adopted name is undoubtedly easier to pronounce than the more strictly

correct one would be.

CULTIVATION OF CINCHONA IN THE EAST.

Many botanists and travellers remarked upon the reckless manner in

which the natives of Peru collected the bark. They felled the trees and

stripped them of bark without planting new ones to take the place of

those destroyed. Humboldt says that 25,000 trees were thus destroyed in

a single year.

The first attempt to transport any plants to Europe was made by La

Condamine in 1743. He had obtained some young plants and was conveying

them down the Amazon River to Cayenne, intending to transport them to

the Jardin des Plantes at Paris. At the mouth of the river a wave swept

over his little vessel and washed away his whole collection. Joseph

de Jussieu, who had accompanied La Condamine on his expedition, and

remained in the country after him for fifteen years, was robbed of his

collection at Buenos Ayres, and lost his reason as a consequence of his

misfortune.

Royle in 1839 strongly advocated the introduction of cinchona into

India, and suggested the Nilgiri Hills as a suitable position for

the experiment. His suggestions were taken into consideration by the

Government, but no immediate steps were taken. The Dutch Government

first moved in the matter, sending a botanist named Hasskarl to South

America in 1852. Their object was to establish cinchona gardens in

Java. All through the fifties they were carrying on their experiments,

but with very slow success. The English Government were meanwhile

instructing their Consuls in South America to obtain seeds, but it

was not until 1859 that the collection was seriously undertaken for

India. In that year Mr. (now Sir) Clements Markham was commissioned

to go to South America to collect seeds of the best species. Markham

has told the full story of his mission in his work on “Peruvian Bark,”

and has incidentally in that narrative exposed the parsimony of the

authorities in their treatment of those associated in the important and

profitable enterprise successfully carried through after some years of

hard and often perilous labour. His principal coadjutor, Dr. Spruce,

whose health was utterly ruined by his efforts, was paid a salary of

£30 a month while the work lasted, and a special grant of £27 for an

exhaustive report which he prepared. A pension of £50 a year was given

him by the British Government for his botanical services, and after

thirteen years of persistent importunity, the Indian Government granted

him another £50 a year. Mr. Pritchett, who collected plants and seeds

in the forests of Huanuco, was paid his salary and nothing more. To Mr.

Cross, who assisted Dr. Spruce in the collection of the red bark, two

grants of £300 each were made. Mr. Weir, “a most conscientious, active,

and skilful worker, and, so far as his own labours were concerned,

completely successful,” crippled and disabled for life, got nothing

from the Government, though the Horticultural Society collected some

funds which yielded £27 a year.

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