Pilgrimages to the Spas in Pursuit of Health and Recreation / With an inquiry into the comparative merits of different mineral waters: the maladies to which they are applicable, and those in which they are injurious

by James Johnson

Bischoff, Struve, Kastner, and others, are more moderate in their flights. They ascribe the origin of some thermal springs to volcanic operations in the bowels of the earth—of other springs to the gradual solution of their component parts in subterranean reservoirs.

The third class of philosophers have boldly cut the Gordian knot, instead of untying it, and erected thermal springs and mineral waters generally into animated beings which transfuse their vitality into the bodies of the spa-drinkers, and thus cure all diseases!

“These and similar observations (says Dr. Peez, of Wisbaden,) compel us to admit the existence of a peculiar vital principle in mineral waters, communicating to the human body either an attractive faculty more consonant with the medicinal component parts of the water; or, acting by itself as a healing power upon the diseased organism.”[12]

The italics are those of Dr. Peez, and not mine. German mysticism could hardly be expected to go farther. But it has outdone itself, as the following extract will shew:—

“The partial effect of the medicinal component parts of mineral waters is pushed back, as it were, retreating under the ægis of a general power which directly excites the autocracy of the animated animal body, and compels it to act according to the particular quality of the mineral spring determined by its component parts.”—(104.)

Here we have a good specimen of German ideality, and transcendental mystification![13]

My friend, Dr. Granville, like every other man of genius, has a hankering after a theory; but he was too shrewd not to see that this monstrous German hypothesis of “vitality” would be too large even for the swallow of John Bull. He has therefore substituted a much more rational and intelligible reason for the effects of thermal spas—namely, their caloricity, as differing materially from that of common water heated to the same degree of temperature. It is very easy to conceive that cauldrons that have been kept boiling in the bowels of the earth for thousands of years, will have diffused the caloric more uniformly and minutely through the waters, and dissolved more completely the mineral ingredients, than pots and kettles in the laboratory of the chemist. This, in all probability, is the solution of the mystery respecting the superior efficacy of thermal spas.

The composition of the Kochbrunnen is as follows:—Forty-four grains of common salt—five of muriate of lime—one and a half of carbonate of lime, out of fifty-nine grains in the pint. The remaining nine grains are not worth enumerating, as the salt and lime are clearly the main ingredients. There are only seven cubic inches of carbonic acid gas in the pint. The temperature is little short of 160° of Fahrenheit. Let us begin with the baths. At a temperature of 86° to 90°, the bath generally occasions a slight sensation of chilliness, which goes off in a few minutes, and is succeeded by a feeling of comfort—serenity of mind—and ultimately a degree of weariness or lassitude, inclining the bather to lie quiet and repose himself. The volume of the body rather diminishes than expands, and the skin of the hands and feet are gently corrugated—the pulse becomes slower and softer—irritability is lessened—spasmodic feelings (if they existed,) disappear under the soothing influence of the waters on the nervous system and circulation—the functions of the intestinal tube are encreased, as are those of the skin, kidneys, and various glandular organs.

At a temperature of 94° to 98°, the bather, at the moment of immersion, experiences an agreeable sense of warmth—the vital powers are exalted, and all the functions of the organs are put into a state of increased activity. The pulse expands and quickens, but is still soft—and all the secretions and excretions are augmented after leaving the bath.

As the weight of the body is increased from half-a-pound to a pound and a half, while immersed, there can be no doubt that a considerable absorption takes place. At above 98°, or blood heat, the bath excites the pulse and renders it both full and hard—embarrasses the breath—flushes the face—reddens the whole surface of the body—excites perspiration—powerfully draws the circulation to the skin—and not seldom causes head-aches, vertigo—and even apoplexy. Douches and shower-baths are often ordered before the plunging or vapour-bath. Lavements of the spa-water are also employed—and it is said with good effects, relieving the stomach from the ingurgitation of so much fluid.