James Cutbush, an American Chemist, 1788-1823

by Edgar Fahs Smith

"The Moors were in possession of the secret for preparing the Greek fire in 1432, according to the testimony of Brocquire. Bertrandon de la Brocquire was in Palestine in 1432 as counsellor to the Duke of Burgundy. He was present at Barrat during one of the Moorish celebrations. 'It began,' he remarks, 'in the evening at sunset. Numerous companies scattered here and there were singing, and uttering loud cries. While this was passing, the cannon of the castle was fired, and the people of the town launched into the air "bein haut et bein loin, une maniere de fue plus gros fellot que je veisse oncques allume." They told me they made use of such at sea, to set fire to the sails of an enemy's vessel. It seems to me that it is a thing easy to be made, and at a little expense it may be equally well employed to burn a camp or a thatched village, or in an engagement with cavalry to frighten their horses. Curious to know its composition, I sent the servant of my host to the person who made this fire, and requested him to teach me his method. He returned for answer, that he dare not, for that he should run great danger were it known; but there is nothing a man will not do for money. I offered him a ducat, which quieted his fears, and he taught me all he knew, and even gave me the moulds in wood, with the other ingredients, which I have brought to France.' ... When Constantinople was attacked, the Emperor Leo burnt the vessels or boats, to the number of one thousand eight hundred, by means of the Greek fire.... Its composition was kept secret at Constantinople, pretending that the knowledge of it came from an angel to the first and greatest of the Constantines, with a sacred injunction not to divulge it under any pretext, etc. It ... was kept secret above 400 years ... was stolen by the Mahometans, who employed it against the Crusaders. A knight, it appears, who despised the swords and lances of the Saracens, relates, with heartfelt sincerity, his own fears at the sight and sound of the mischievous engine that discharged a torrent of fire. 'It came flying through the air, like a winged, long-tailed dragon, about the thickness of a hogshead, with a report of thunder, and the velocity of lightning; and the darkness of the night was dispelled by this deadly illumination. The use of the Greek, or as it might now be called the Saracen fire, was continued to the middle of the Fourteenth Century, when the scientific or casual compound of nitre, sulphur and charcoal effected a new revolution in the art of war, and the history of mankind.' ... We do not know of any imitation of the original Greek fire having been used in modern warfare, but have no hesitation in believing that naphtha prepared as already stated would in many cases prove advantageous. It seems to be well calculated for close naval combat, if the object be to destroy the sails and rigging of an enemy's ship. The rapidity and extent of its combustion, added to the circumstances of its peculiar properties, that of resisting the action of water in particular, contribute altogether to this opinion."

The entire article from which these excerpts have been made is worthy of study, even at this late date. It is suggestive and carries with it many historical references of value. The enthusiasm of Cutbush for pyrotechnic bodies is manifest in every line of this publication.

About a year later (1823) Cutbush discussed the formation of cyanogen in processes not previously noticed. He spoke of the appearance of this gas in the putrefaction of animal and vegetable matter, making the following remarkable and in some respects startling statement:

"I believe it would be found that the compound (carburet of azote) is the basis of the miasmata which produces malignant, bilious diseases.... Marsh miasmata are generally the cause of intermittent fevers. Now under particular circumstances of action may we not admit the generation of carburet of azote or cyanogen, and if so, as it readily unites with hydrogen, may it not be the miasma which produces malignant bilious fevers, since it is known that hydrocyanic acid is destructive to animal life and a most virulent poison?... Miasmata of some kind are the cause of yellow fever. For our part we believe it to be carburet of azote, or of some of its combinations, and of these that with hydrogen, from its deleterious character, seems to be the one."

Another observation made in this connection was that cyanogen is produced when charcoal is heated with nitric acid. Cutbush stated that he placed charcoal and nitric acid together in a retort and subjected them to distillation, collecting the product in Woulfe's bottles, after which the resulting solutions were impregnated with potash, and

"common sulphate and persulphate of iron introduced. The colour instantly changed and became more or less blue, proving the existence of the perferrocyanite of iron and, consequently, of cyanogen."

Having never met this method of preparing cyanogen, experiments were made in the writer's laboratory to verify the statement. A blue, or what had the semblance of a blue color, could be obtained at the point given by Cutbush, but just as soon as the solution was acidulated, as is always done, the precipitate disappeared and there was not the slightest indication that Prussian blue had been formed. Even after hours of rest there was not a sign of it.

Association on the part of Cutbush with the men of science in Philadelphia during the first decade of the Nineteenth Century led to an extension of his interest in science circles, so that during leisure moments at West Point (1824) he wrote of the following minerals observed by him in and near that place:

"Molybdenite, kaolin, tremolite, schorl, adularia, garnet, actinolite, precious serpentine (remarkably elegant), epidote and diallage."

Recently, attention has been called to a volume by Cutbush entitled "Lectures on the Adulteration of Food and Culinary Poisons.... With a Means of Discovering Them and Rules for Determining the Purity of Substances." It was published at Newburgh, N. Y., in 1823. The writer has never seen this volume. His search for it has been unsuccessful.