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.”
Early Views as to the Nature of Tophi
“Et tophus scaber, et nigris exesa chelydris Creta.”
Georg., ii., 214.
The word “tophus” or “tofus,” the Greek τοφος, seems to have been applied to rough crumbling rock, the disintegrated volcanic tufa. As to its constitution it is clear from the above quotation that Virgil evidently associated it with chalk, a shrewder guess than the fanciful hypothesis of Galen, though the views of Paracelsus (1493-1541) enunciated some centuries subsequently, were even more grotesque, a “mucous essence,” a “Tartarus” burning “like hell fire.”
Nevertheless, our contempt need be chastened when we recollect that, up to the latter half of the eighteenth century, equally weird assumptions found acceptance. By some “various excrementitial humours,” by others “checked and decomposing sweat” were deemed the basis of tophi.
A mucilaginous extract, derived from the solid and liquid intake, appealed to some as an explanation of their formation, while to others, tophi were compounds of subtle and penetrating salts.
But the later view, doubtless the reflex of etiological hypotheses, was that tophi were of tartareous nature, closely similar to that encrusting the interior of wine casks. Hoffmann declared that the materies morbi actually was a salt of tartar circulating in the blood. His investigations of tophi and also of the stools, saliva, and urine of gouty subjects, convinced him that the peccant matter was tartar of wine.
Hoffmann’s views, however, were laughed to scorn by M. Coste as being obviously absurd, inasmuch as gout was not uncommon amongst those who had never partaken of wine, ergo, never of tartar. How infinitely more physicianly the inference of Sydenham, who, like some of the older humoralists held the tophus to be “undigested gouty matter thrown out around the joints in a liquid form and afterwards becoming hardened.”