Introduction of the Word “Gout”
In the thirteenth century the Greek terms “podagra,” “chirargra,” etc., were to a large extent abandoned, and following Radulfe’s lead gave way to the use of the generic term “gout,” derived from the Latin “gutta.” Its adoption was doubtless traceable to the prevailing humoral views of the origin of the disorder, as due to some morbid matter exuding by “drops” into the joint cavities. Indeed, according to Johnson, the word “gut” was used as a synonym for “drop” by Scottish physicians even in his day.
In any case, the term found little difficulty in installing itself among all nations, taking in French the form “goutte,” in German “gicht,” in Spanish “gota,” etc. Trousseau thought it “an admirable name, because in whatever sense it may have been originally employed by those by whom it was invented, it is not now given to anything else than that to which it is applied.” In contrast therewith, that trenchant critic Pye-Smith complained of the laxity with which the Germans invoked the word “gicht.” He says it is popularly credited with all the pains which are called “rheumatics” in England. “Sometimes ‘gicht’ is nothing but bad corns and is rarely true gout.” Albeit, Pye-Smith did not, as we shall see later, hold even his English confrères in this respect void of offence.
From these remote times onwards through the Middle Ages to the present day, an almost continuous series of historical records testify that not only has gout always been with us, but that its clinical characters throughout the ages have remained unaltered, conforming ever to the primitive type. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries many physicians, both British and continental, ventilated their views as to the nature of gout, all swearing allegiance to the old humoral pathology, notably Sydenham, Boerhaave, Van Swieten, Hoffmann, Cadogan, etc.
The English Hippocrates, as Trousseau christened the illustrious Sydenham, displayed his catholic outlook by the pregnant words: “No very limited theory and no one particular hypothesis can be found applicable to explain the whole nature of gout.” A live-long martyr himself thereto, he brought all the strength of his dominating intellect to bear upon its elucidation. As to its causation, he held it to be due to a “morbific matter,” the outcome of imperfect “coctions” in the primæ viæ and in the secondary assimilating organs. He refrained from speculating as to the constitution of the materia peccans, but as Trousseau observes, “he made his morbi seminium play the part which modern chemistry attributes to the products it has discovered. Take it all in all,” he says, “the theory of the great English physician is much more medical than the theories of modern chemists.”