Of the Cure of the Bite of a mad Dog.
With respect to the remedies, we have had many delivered to us; but few indeed with success. Before I enter on the best method that I know, by experiment, to recommend, I must beg leave to mention a peculiar successful instance, in the course of my practice, in this deplorable case.
A mad dog on shore, in the West-Indies, bit two men, one belonged to my ship’s crew, the other to a ship in the same harbour; both were bit in the calf of the leg. It happened that the surgeon of the other ship and myself were immediately at hand at the time of the accident. I was for cutting the part bitten fairly out without delay; to which the man of my ship readily contented; and it was done accordingly upon the spot, having fortunately my pocket instruments about me. But this operation was not approved of by Mr. E——; nor suited it the timidity of the man belonging to his care; it was therefore omitted.
When I had performed the operation, viz. (as near as I can guess) I cut more than an ounce and a half of flesh out of the gastrocnemius muscle (every where round the bitten part) I spread a pledget with basilicon, mixed with precipitate, and laid it on the wound, having first let it bleed, perhaps six or eight ounces; over the pledget I laid plenty of dry lint; and when he was carried on board, I fomented it with spirits of wine and camphor, in which sublimate mercury was dissolved (about one grain to about four ounces of the spirit). Inwardly I gave him one grain of calomel every morning and night for at least a fortnight. The sore I continued to dress with mercurial ointment; which within a month healed up perfectly sound. From the mercurial treatment, the patient had a small ptyalism, which I checked by gentle cathartics. My patient, by this severe, though efficacious method, recovered perfectly well, and remained so at least three months after the accident, when we parted. The other unfortunate man, however, had not so good luck; for, as I was afterwards informed (the ship going soon to sea after the accident) the unhappy sufferer died a horrible object, raving mad in the hydrophobia.
Mercury is certainly the greatest antacrid we have; and I am firmly of opinion, that in this case it is the most powerful of any medicine that is yet known.
The cold bath is strenuously recommended by Dr. Mead; and since his recommending it, is generally practised on suspicion of this misfortune; but in real cases, very seldom with the wished-for success. Yet, Reason says much in its favour, and should by all means be had recourse to. Others have recommended strong salt brine, which also is not to be rejected.
Before I lay down the method to be observed, I shall first give Dr. Mead’s recipe in his own words.
“Let the patient be blooded at the arm nine or ten ounces. Take of the herb called in Latin, lichen cinereus terrestris; in English ash-coloured ground liverwort, cleaned, dried, and powdered half an ounce. Of black pepper powdered, two drachmes, mix these well together, and divide the powder into four doses, one of which must be taken every morning fasting, for four mornings successively in half a pint of cow’s milk warm. After these four doses are taken, the patient must go into the cold bath, or a cold spring, or river, every morning fasting for a month: he must be dipt all over, but not stay in (with his head above water) longer than half a minute, if the water be very cold. After this he must go in three times a week a fortnight longer.”
But to speak my real sentiments, I have no great opinion of this recipe; yet as other methods may be pursued along with it, I thought proper to insert it, as in a malady of this consequence, nothing should be left undone that is practicable with propriety.
Celsus I think was the first who recommended cold bathing[[14]]; but indeed to a degree of drowning and reviving the patient again alternately. In the mania itself, it carries much reason with it in this miserable extremity, for the poor wretch at the eve of expiring, a spectacle of horror, may as well run the risque of drowning; and besides, the shock that plunging gives to the whole system, may probably work an alteration in the malignant habit.—But alas! when the hydrophobia has actually commenced; Death, and death only—can give relief! Yet let it ever be a maxim, (and especially with a seaman) never to forsake hope; for despair is only a punishment reserved for the damned. I repeat it; no means should be left untried, that has the least prospect of recovery.