The American Reformed Cattle Doctor
by George H. Dadd · English · Gutenberg #37997 · 680,675 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The American Reformed Cattle Doctor
Author: George H. Dadd
Release date: November 12, 2011 [eBook #37997]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37997
Credits: Produced by Barbara Kosker, Bryan Ness and the Online
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AMERICAN REFORMED CATTLE DOCTOR ***
Produced by Barbara Kosker, Bryan Ness and the Online
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file was produced from scans of public domain works at the
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[Illustration: A West Highland Ox
The Property of Mr. Elliott of East Ham Essex.]
THE
AMERICAN REFORMED
CATTLE DOCTOR;
CONTAINING
THE NECESSARY INFORMATION
FOR
PRESERVING THE HEALTH AND CURING THE DISEASES
OF
OXEN, COWS, SHEEP, AND SWINE,
WITH
A GREAT VARIETY OF ORIGINAL RECIPES,
AND
VALUABLE INFORMATION IN REFERENCE TO
FARM AND DAIRY MANAGEMENT;
WHEREBY
EVERY MAN CAN BE HIS OWN CATTLE DOCTOR.
THE PRINCIPLES TAUGHT IN THIS WORK ARE, THAT ALL MEDICATION
SHALL BE SUBSERVIENT TO NATURE; THAT ALL MEDICINAL AGENTS
MUST BE SANATIVE IN THEIR OPERATION, AND ADMINISTERED WITH
A VIEW OF AIDING THE VITAL POWERS, INSTEAD OF DEPRESSING,
AS HERETOFORE, WITH THE LANCET AND POISON.
BY
G. H. DADD, M. D., VETERINARY PRACTITIONER,
AUTHOR OF "ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY OF THE HORSE."
BOSTON:
PHILLIPS, SAMPSON, AND COMPANY,
110 WASHINGTON STREET.
1851.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by
G. H. DADD, M. D.,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the
District of Massachusetts.
STEREOTYPED AT THE
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION, 9
CATTLE.
Importance of supplying Cattle with pure Water, 15
Remarks on feeding Cattle, 17
The Barn and Feeding Byre, 21
Milking, 24
Knowledge of Agricultural and Animal Chemistry
important to Farmers, 25
On Breeding, 30
The Bull, 34
Value of Different Breeds of Cows, 35
Method of preparing Rennet, as practised in England, 36
Making Cheese, 37
Gloucester Cheese, 38
Chester Cheese, 39
Stilton Cheese, 40
Dunlop Cheese, 41
Green Cheese, 42
Making Butter, 44
Washing Butter, 45
Coloring Butter, 46
Description of the Organs of Digestion in Cattle, 47
Respiration and Structure of the Lungs, 53
Circulation of the Blood, 54
The Heart viewed externally, 55
Remarks on Blood-letting, 58
Efforts of Nature to remove Disease, 67
Proverbs of the Veterinary Reformers, 70
An Inquiry concerning the Souls of Brutes, 72
The Reformed Practice--Synoptical View of the
Prominent Systems of Medicine, 75
Creed of the Reformers, 79
True Principles, 80
Inflammation, 88
Remarks, showing that very little is known of the
Nature and Treatment of Disease, 94
Nature, Treatment, and Causes of Disease in Cattle, 105
Pleuro-Pneumonia, 107
Locked-Jaw, 115
Inflammatory Diseases, 121
Inflammation of the Stomach, (Gastritis,) 121
Inflammation of the Lungs, (Pneumonia,) 122
Inflammation of the Bowels, (Enteritis.--Inflammation
of the Fibro-Muscular Coat of the Intestines,) 124
Inflammation of the Peritoneal Coat of the Intestines,
(Peritonitis,) 125
Inflammation of the Kidneys, (Nephritis,) 125
Inflammation of the Bladder, (Cystitis,) 126
Inflammation of the Womb, 126
Inflammation of the Brain, (Phrenitis,) 127
Inflammation of the Eye, 128
Inflammation of the Liver, (Hepatitis,) 128
Jaundice, or Yellows, 130
Diseases of the Mucous Surface, 132
Catarrh, or Hoose, 133
Epidemic Catarrh, 134
Malignant Epidemic, (Murrain,) 135
Diarrhoea, (Looseness of the Bowels,) 136
Dysentery, 138
Scouring Rot, 139
Disease of the Ear, 140
Serous Membranes, 140
Dropsy, 141
Hoove, or "Blasting," 144
Joint Murrain, 147
Black Quarter, 149
Open Joint, 151
Swellings of Joints, 152
Sprain of the Fetlock, 153
Strain of the Hip, 154
Foul in the Foot, 154
Red Water, 157
Black Water, 160
Thick Urine, 160
Rheumatism, 161
Blain, 162
Thrush, 163
Black Tongue, 163
Inflammation of the Throat and its Appendages, 163
Bronchitis, 164
Inflammation of Glands, 164
Loss of Cud, 166
Colic, 166
Spasmodic Colic, 167
Constipation, 168
Falling down of the Fundament, 171
Calving, 171
Embryotomy, 175
Falling of the Calf-Bed, or Womb, 176
Garget, 177
Sore Teats, 178
Chapped Teats and Chafed Udder, 178
Fever, 178
Milk or Puerperal Fever, 182
Inflammatory Fever, 183
Typhus Fever, 186
Horn Ail in Cattle, 189
Abortion in Cows, 191
Cow-Pox, 194
Mange, 195
Hide-bound, 196
Lice, 196
Importance of keeping the Skin of Animals in a
Healthy State, 197
Spaying Cows, 201
Operation of Spaying, 204
SHEEP.
Preliminary Remarks, 209
Staggers, 219
Foot Rot, 220
Rot, 221
Epilepsy, 222
Red Water, 223
Cachexy, or General Debility, 224
Loss of Appetite, 224
Foundering, (Rheumatism,) 224
Ticks, 225
Scab, or Itch, 225
Diarrhoea, 227
Dysentery, 227
Constipation, or Stretches, 228
Scours, 230
Dizziness, 231
Jaundice, 232
Inflammation of the Kidneys, 232
Worms, 233
Diseases of the Stomach from eating Poisonous Plants, 233
Sore Nipples, 234
Fractures, 234
Common Catarrh and Epidemic Influenza, 235
Castrating Lambs, 236
Nature of Sheep, 237
The Ram, 238
Leaping, 239
Argyleshire Breeders, 239
Fattening Sheep, 240
Improvement in Sheep, 244
Description of the Different Breeds of Sheep, 249
Teeswater Breed, 249
Lincolnshire Breed, 250
Dishley Breed, 250
Cotswold Breed, 250
Romney Marsh Breed, 251
Devonshire Breed, 251
Dorsetshire Breed, 251
Wiltshire Breed, 252
South Down Breed, 252
Herdwick Breed, 253
Cheviot Breed, 253
Merino Breed, 253
Welsh Sheep, 254
SWINE.
Preliminary Remarks, 255
Natural History of the Hog, 259
Generalities, 262
General Debility, or Emaciation, 263
Epilepsy, or Fits, 264
Rheumatism, 264
Measles, 265
Ophthalmia, 266
Vermin, 266
Red Eruption, 267
Dropsy, 267
Catarrh, 267
Colic, 268
Diarrhoea, 268
Frenzy, 268
Jaundice, 269
Soreness of the Feet, 269
Spaying, 270
Various Breeds of Swine, 271
Berkshire Breed, 271
Hampshire Breed, 271
Shropshire Breed, 272
Chinese Breed, 272
Boars and Sows for Breeding, 272
Rearing Pigs, 273
Fattening Hogs, 275
Method of Curing Swine's Flesh, 277
APPENDIX.
On the Action of Medicines, 279
Clysters, 281
Forms of Clysters, 283
Infusions, 286
Antispasmodics, 287
Fomentations, 287
Mucilages, 289
Washes, 289
Physic for Cattle, 290
Mild Physic for Cattle, 291
Poultices, 292
Styptics, to arrest Bleeding, 296
Absorbents, 296
Forms of Absorbents, 297
VETERINARY MATERIA MEDICA, embracing a List of the
various Remedies used by the Author of this Work
in the Practice of Medicine on Cattle, Sheep,
and Swine, 299
General Remarks on Medicines, 312
Properties of Plants, 315
Potato, 316
TREATMENT OF DISEASE IN DOGS--Preliminary Remarks, 323
Distemper, 325
Fits, 326
Worms, 327
Mange, 328
Internal Abscess of the Ear, 329
Ulceration of the Ear, 329
Inflammation of the Bowels, 329
Inflammation of the Bladder, 330
Asthma, 331
Piles, 331
Dropsy, 332
Sore Throat, 332
Sore Ears, 332
Sore Feet, 333
Wounds, 333
Sprains, 333
Scalds, 334
Ophthalmia, 334
Weak Eyes, 335
Fleas and Vermin, 335
Hydrophobia, 335
MALIGNANT MILK SICKNESS of the Western States, or
Contagious Typhus, 339
BONE DISORDER IN COWS, 351
INTRODUCTION.
There is no period in the history of the United States when our domestic
animals have ranked so high as at the present time; yet there is no
subject on which there is such a lamentable want of knowledge as the
proper treatment of their diseases.
Governor Briggs, in a recent letter to the author, says, "You have my
thanks, and, in my opinion, are entitled to the thanks of the community,
for entering upon this important work. While the subject has engaged the
attention of scientific men in other countries, it has been too long
neglected in our own. Cruelty and ignorance have marked our treatment to
diseased animals. Ignorant himself both of the disease and the remedy,
the owner has been in the habit of administering the popular remedy of
every neighbor who had no better powers of knowing what should be done
than himself, until the poor animal, if the disease would not have
proved fatal, is left alone, until death, with a friendly hand, puts a
period to his sufferings: he is, however, often destroyed by the amount
or destructive character of the remedies, or else by the cruel mode of
administering them. I am persuaded that the community will approve of
your exertions, and find it to their interest to support and sustain
your system."
The author has labored for several years to substitute a safer and a
more efficient system of medication in the treatment of diseased
animals, and at the same time to point out to the American people the
great benefits they will derive from the diffusion of veterinary
education.
That many thousands of our most valuable cattle die under the treatment,
which consists of little else than blood-letting, purging, and
blistering, no one will deny; and these dangerous and destructive agents
are frequently administered by men who are totally unacquainted with the
nature of the agents they prescribe. But a better day is dawning;
veterinary information is loudly called for--demanded; and the farmers
will have it; _but it must be a safer and a more efficient system than
that heretofore practised_.
The object of the veterinary art is not only congenial with human
medicine, but the very same paths that lead to a knowledge of the
diseases of man lead also to a knowledge of those of brutes.
Our domestic animals deserve consideration at our hands. We have tried
all manner of experiments on them for the benefit of science; and
science and scientific men should do something to repay the debt, by
alleviating their sufferings and improving their condition. We are told
that physicians of all ages have applied themselves to the dissection of
animals, and that it was by analogy that those of Greece and Rome judged
of the structure of the human body. For example, the Greeks and Arabians
confined themselves to the dissection of apes and other quadrupeds.
Galen has given us the anatomy of the ape for that of man; and it is
clear that his dissections were restricted to brutes, when he says, that
"if learned physicians have been guilty of gross errors, it is because
they neglected to dissect animals." We advocate the establishment of
veterinary schools, and the cultivation of our reformed system of
veterinary medicine, on the broad principles of humanity. These poor
animals are as susceptible to pain and suffering as we are. Has not the
Almighty given us dominion over them, and placed them under our
protection? Have we done our duty by them? Can we render a good account
of our stewardship?
In almost every department of science the spirit of inquiry is abroad,
investigation is active; yet, in this department, every thing is left to
chance and ignorance. Men of all professions find it for their interest
to protect property. The merchant, previous to sending his vessel on a
voyage to a distant port, seeks out a skilful navigator to pilot that
vessel into her desired haven with safety. He protects his property. We
protect our property against the ravages of fire by insurance--we defend
our houses from the lightning by conducting that fluid down the sides of
the building into the earth. And shall we not protect our animals? Is
not property invested in live stock as valuable, in proportion, as that
invested in real estate? Can we permit live stock to degenerate and die
prematurely from a want of knowledge of the fundamental laws of their
being? Can we look on and see their heart's blood drawn from them--their
flesh setoned, burned, and blistered--simply because it was the
misguided custom of our ancestors?
We appeal to the American people at large. They have great encouragement
to educate young men in this important branch of study; for the
beneficial results will be, that the diseases of all classes of domestic
animals will be better understood, and the great losses which this
country sustains will, in a few years, be materially diminished. This is
not all. The value of live stock will be increased at least twenty-five
per cent!
Look for a moment at the amount of capital invested in live stock; and
from these statistics the reader will perceive that not only the
farmers, but the whole nation, will be enriched. There are in the United
States at least 6,000,000 horses and mules; these, at the rate of $50
per head, amount to $300,000,000. It is also estimated that there are
20,000,000 of neat cattle; reckon these at $25 per head, and we get the
snug little sum of $500,000,000. We have also 20,000,000 sheep, worth
the same number of dollars. The number of swine have been computed at
24,000,000; and these, at $3 per head, give us $72,000,000. Hence the
reader will see that the capital invested in this class of live stock
reaches the enormous sum of $892,000,000. Add the 25 per cent. just
alluded to, and we get a clear gain of $223,000,000. This sum would be
sufficient to build veterinary schools and colleges capable of affording
ample accommodations to every farmer's son in the Union. Hence we
entreat the farming community to ponder on these subjects. They have
only to say the word, and schools for the dissemination of veterinary
information shall spring up in every section of the Union.
Does the reader wish to know how the _farmers_ can accomplish this
important object? We answer, there are four millions of men engaged in
agricultural pursuits. Their number is three times greater than that of
those engaged in navigation, the learned professions, commerce, and
manufactures. Hence they have the numerical power to control the
government of these United States, and of course can plead their own
cause in the halls of congress, and vote their own supplies for
educational purposes.
When the author first commenced a warfare against the lancet and other
destructive agents, his only hopes of success were based on the
cooeperation of this mighty host of husbandmen; he well knew that there
were many prejudices to be overcome, and none greater than those
existing among his brethren of the same profession. The farmers have
just begun to see the absurdity of bleeding an animal to death, with a
view of saving life; or pouring down their throats powerful and
destructive agents, with a view of making one disease to cure another!
If the cattle doctors, then, will not reform, they must be reformed
through the giant influence of popular opinion. Already the cry is, and
it emanates from some of the most influential agriculturists in the
country,--"_No more blood-letting!_" "_Use your poisons on yourselves._"
To the cattle-rearing interest, at the hands of many of whom the author
has received aid and encouragement, the following pages are dedicated;
they are intended to furnish them with practical information, with a
view of preventing disease, increasing the value of their stock, and
restoring them to health when sick.
In reference to our reformed system of veterinary medication, it will be
sufficient, in the present place, just to glance at the fundamental
principles. In the succeeding pages these principles will be more fully
explained. We contemplate the animal system as a complicated piece of
mechanism, subject to the uncompromising and immutable laws of nature,
as they are written upon the face of animate nature by the finger of
Omnipotence.
All our intentions of cure being in accordance with nature's laws,
(viz., promoting the integrity of the living powers,) we have termed our
system a _physiological_ one, though it is sometimes termed _botanic_,
in allusion to the fact that most of our remedial agents are derived
from the vegetable kingdom. We recognize a conservative or healing power
in the animal economy, whose unerring indications we endeavor to follow;
considering nature the physician, and the doctor her servant.
Our system proposes, under all circumstances, to restore the diseased
organs to a healthy state, by cooeperating with the vitality remaining in
those organs, by the exhibition of sanative means, and, under all
circumstances, to assist, and not oppose, nature in her curative
processes. Poisonous substances, blood-letting, or processes of cure
that act pathologically, cannot be used by us. The laws of animal life
are physiological: they never were, nor ever will be, pathological.
The agents we use are just as we find them in the forest and the field,
compounded by the Great Physician. Hence the reader will perceive that
our aim is to depart from the popular debilitating and life-destroying
practice, and approach as near as possible to the sanative.
G. H. D.
THE
AMERICAN
REFORMED CATTLE DOCTOR.
IMPORTANCE OF SUPPLYING CATTLE WITH PURE WATER.
In order to prevent many of the diseases to which cattle are liable, it
is important that they be supplied with pure water. Cattle have often
been known to turn away from the filthy fluid found in some troughs,
which abound in slime and decayed vegetable matter; and, indeed, the
common stagnated pond water is no better than the former. Such water
has, in former years, proved itself to be a serious cause of disease;
and, at the present day, death is running riot among the stock of our
western, and also our northern farmers, when, to our certain knowledge,
the cause exists, in some cases, under their very noses. The farmers
ofttimes see their best stock sicken and die without any apparent cause;
and the cattle doctors are running rough-shod through the _materia
medica_, pouring down the throats of the poor brutes salts by the pound,
castor oil by the quart; aloes, lard, and a host of kindred trash,
follow in rapid succession, converting the stomach into a sort of
apothecary's shop; setons are inserted in the "dewlap;" the horns are
bored, and sometimes sawed off; and, as a last resort, the animals are
blistered and bled. They sometimes recover, in spite of the violence
done to the constitution; yet they drag out a low form of vitality,
living, it may be said, yet half dead, until some friendly epidemic
puts a period to their sufferings.
The author's attention was first called to this subject on reading an
article in an English work, the substance of which is as follows: A
number of working oxen were put into a pasture, in which was a pond,
considered to abound in good water. Soon after putting them there, they
were attacked with scouring, upon which they were immediately removed to
another field. The scouring continued. They still, however, drank at the
same pond. They were shifted to another piece of very sweet pasture
without arresting the disease. The farmer thought it evident that the
pastures were not the cause of the disease; and, contrary to the advice
of his friends, who affirmed that the spring was always noticed for the
excellence of its water, fenced his pond round, so that the cattle could
not drink; they were then driven to a distance and watered. The scouring
gradually disappeared. The farmer now proceeded to examine the suspected
pond; and, on stirring the water, he found it all alive with small
creatures. He now stirred into the water a quantity of lime, and soon
after an immense number of animalculae were seen dead on the surface. In
a short time, the cattle drank of this water without any injurious
results.
There is no doubt but that inferior kinds of water produce derangement
of the digestive organs, and subsequently loss of flesh, debility, &c.
We have frequently made _post mortem_ examinations of animals that have
died from disease induced by debility, and have often found a large
number of worms in the stomach and intestines, which, we firmly believe,
had their origin either primarily from the water itself, or subsequently
from its effects on the digestive function.
All decayed animal and vegetable matter tends to corrupt water, and
render it unfit for the purposes of life. Now, if the farmer has the
best spring in the world, and the water shall flow from it, as it
sometimes does, through whole fields of gutter or dike, abounding in
decayed filth, such water will be impregnated with agents that will more
or less affect its purity.
REMARKS ON FEEDING CATTLE.
Many of the most complicated diseases of cattle originate from the food:
for example, it may be given in too large quantities--more than is
needed to build up and repair the waste that is constantly going on. The
consequence is, the animals get into a state of plethora, which is known
by heaviness, dulness, unwillingness to move; there is a disposition to
sleep, and they will lie down and often go to sleep in damp places. A
chill of the extremities, or collapse of the capillaries, takes place,
resulting in diseases of the lungs and pleura. At other times, if driven
a short distance, and made to walk fast, they are liable to disease of
the brain and other organs, which frequently terminates fatally.
The food may be of such a nature as shall be very difficult of
digestion, such as cornstalks, foxgrass, frosted turnips, &c. The clover
and grasses may abound in woody fibre, in consequence of being cut too
late; they will then require more than the usual amount of gastric
fluids to insalivate them, and more time to masticate, and, finally,
extract their nutrimental properties. The stomach becomes overworked,
producing sympathetic diseases of the brain and nervous structures. The
stomach not being able to act on fibrous matter with the same despatch
as on softer materials, the former accumulates in its different
compartments, distends the viscera, interferes with the motion of the
diaphragm, presses on the liver, seriously interfering with the
bile-secreting process. In order to prevent the grass and clover from
becoming tough and fibrous, it should be mowed early, and while in
flower, and should be afterwards almost constantly attended to, if the
weather is favorable; the more it is scattered about, the better will it
be made, and the more effectually will its fragrance and other good
qualities be preserved.
The food may also be deficient in nutriment. The effects of insufficient
food are too well known to need much description: debility includes them
all; it invades every function of the animal economy. And as life is
the sum of the powers that resist disease, if disease is only the
instrument of death, it follows, of course, that whatever enfeebles
life, or, in other words, produces debility, must predispose to disease.
Many cattle, during the winter, live on bad hay, which does not appear
to contain any of that saccharine and mucilaginous matter which is found
in good hay. When the spring comes, they are turned out to grass, and
thus regain their flesh. Many, however, die in consequence of the sudden
change.
It has been satisfactorily proved that fat cattle, of the best quality,
may be produced by feeding them on boiled food.
Dr. Whitlaw says, "On one occasion, a number of cows were selected from
a large stock, for the express purpose of making the trial: they were
such as appeared to be of the best kind, and those that gave the richest
milk. In order to ascertain what particular food would produce the best
milk, different species of grass and clover were tried separately, and
the quality and flavor of the butter were found to vary very much. But
what was of the most importance, many of the grasses were found to be
coated with silecia, or decomposed sand, too hard and insoluble for the
stomachs of cattle. In consequence of this, the grass was cut and well
steamed, and it was found to be readily digested; and the butter, that
was made from the milk, much firmer, better flavored, and would keep
longer without salt than any other kind. Another circumstance that
attended the experiment was that, in all the various grasses and grain
that were intended by our Creator as food for man or beast, the various
oils that enter into their composition were so powerfully assimilated or
combined with the other properties of the farinaceous plants, that the
oil partook of the character of essential oil, and was not so easily
evaporated as that of poisonous vegetables; and experience has proved
that the same quantity of grass, steamed and given to the cattle, will
produce more butter than when given in its dry state. This fact being
established from numerous experiments, then there must be a great saving
and superiority in this mode of feeding. The meat of such cattle is
more wholesome, tender, and better flavored than when fed in the
ordinary way." (For process of steaming, see Dadd's work on the Horse,
p. 67.)
A mixed diet (boiled) is supposed to be the most economical for
fattening cattle. "A Scotchman, who fattens 150 head of Galloway cattle,
annually, finds it most profitable to feed with bruised flaxseed, boiled
with meal or barley, oats or Indian corn, at the rate of one part
flaxseed to three parts meal, by weight,--the cooked compound to be
afterwards mixed with cut straw or hay. From four to twelve pounds of
the compound are given to each beast per day." The editor of the Albany
Cultivator adds, "Would it not be well for some of our farmers, who
stall-feed cattle, to try this or a similar mode? We are by no means
certain that the ordinary food (meaning, probably, bad hay and
cornstalks) would pay the expense of cooking; but flaxseed is known to
be highly nutritious, and the cooking would not only facilitate its
digestion, but it would serve, by mixing, to render the other food
palatable, and, by promoting the appetite and health of the animal,
would be likely to hasten its thrift."
Mr. Hutton, who has long been celebrated for producing exceedingly fat
cattle at a small cost, estimates that cost as follows:--
s. d.
"13 lbs. of linseed, bruised, or 2 lbs. per day for six
days, and 1 lb. for Sunday, 1 9
32 lbs. of ground corn, or 5 lbs. per day for six days,
and 2-1/2 lbs. for Sunday, at 1 d. per lb., 2 8
35 lbs. of turnips, given twice a day for six days,
and thrice on Sunday, 1 6
Oats, 1-1/2 d.: labor on each beast, 6 d., 7-1/2
---------
Total cost of each beast per week, 6 6-1/2
"The horses, cows, and young stock are also fed on this food, evidently
with great advantage."
Mr. Workington, a successful dairyman, combining cut feed and oil-cake
with different sorts of green food, found that, by giving a middle-sized
cow sixteen pounds of green food and two of boiled hay, with two pounds
of ground oil cake, (_linseed would be preferable_,) and eight pounds of
cut straw, the daily expense of her keep was only 5-1/2 d., (about ten
cents.) The oil-cake he found to be much more productive of milk when
given with steamed food, than when employed without it. Varying their
food from time to time is found to be of much more advantage to the cow;
and this may probably arise from the additional relish with which the
animal eats, or from the superior excitement of a new stimulus on the
different secretions.
The following table represents the nutritive properties in each article
of food:--
------------+--------+----------+--------+--------+--------+--------
| | Husk, or |Starch, |Gluten, | |
| | woody |gum, and|albumen,| Fatty |Saline
| Water. | fibre. | sugar. | &c. | matter |matter
------------+--------+----------+--------+--------+--------+--------
Oats, | 16 | 20 | 45 | 11 | 6 | 2.5
Beans, | 14 | 8 to 11 | 40 | 26 | 2.5 | 3
Pease, | 14 | 9 | 50 | 24 | 2.1 | 3
Indian corn,| 14 | 6 | 70 | 12 | 5 to 9 | 1.5
Barley, | 15 | 14 | 52 | 13.5 | 2 to 3 | 3
Meadow hay, | 14 | 30 | 40 | 7.1 | 2 to 5 |5 to 10
Clover hay, | 14 | 25 | 40 | 9.3 | 3 to 5 | 9
Pea straw, |10 to 15| 25 | 45 | 12.3 | 1.5 |4 to 5
Oat straw, | 12 | 45 | 35 | 1.3 | 0.8 | 6
Carrots, | 85 | 3 | 10 | 1.5 | 0.4 |1 to 2
Linseed, | 9.2 | 8 to 9 | 35.3 | 20.3 | 20.0 | 6.3
Bran, | 13.1 | 53.6 | 2 | 19.3 | 4.7 | 7.3
------------+--------+----------+--------+--------+--------+--------
The most nutritious grasses are those which abound in sugar, starch, and
gluten. Sugar is an essential element in the formation of good milk;
hence the sweet-scented grasses are the most profitable to cultivate and
feed to milch cows. At the same time, the farmer, if he does not, ought
to know that large quantities of saccharine matter are extracted from
clover and sweet grasses by the bees. Mr. White tells us that, "on a
farm situated a few miles from London, the eldest son of the occupier
had the management and profit of the bees given him, which induced him
to increase the number of stocks beyond what had ever been kept on the
farm before. It so happened that the sheep did not thrive so well as in
former years, and on the farmer complaining at the cause to his man, as
they had plenty of keep, the man replied, '_You will never have fat
sheep so long as you suffer my young master to keep so many stocks of
bees; they suck all the honey from the flowers, so that the clover is
not half so nourishing, and does not produce half such good milk._'" Had
this man been acquainted with agricultural and animal chemistry, he
would have had a clear conception of the seeming absurdity. All our
labor or efforts to improve stock or crops will be fruitless, unless
guided by chemical science. We must have sugar, starch, gluten, and
other materials, to perfect animal organization. The animal may be in
good health, the different functions free and unobstructed, and possess
the power of reproducing the species; yet, if fed on substances which
lack the materials necessary to the composition of bones, blood-vessels,
and nerves, sooner or later its health becomes impaired. Reader, if you
own cattle, and wish to preserve their health, give them boiled food
occasionally; let them have their meals at regular hours, in sufficient
quantity, and no more, unless they are intended for the butcher; then,
an extra allowance may be given, with a view of fattening. They should
be well littered, and the barns well ventilated; finally, keep them
clean, avoid undue exposure, and govern them in a spirit of kindness and
mercy.
THE BARN AND FEEDING BYRE.
It is well known that the more cleanly and comfortable cattle are kept,
and the better the order in which their food is presented to them, the
better they will thrive, and the more profitable they will be to the
owner. Dr. Gunthier remarks, that "constant confinement to the barn is
opposed to the nature of oxen, and becomes the source of numberless
diseases. Endeavors are made to promote the lacteal secretion in cows,
and the fattening of oxen, by means of heat: for this purpose, stables
[barns] are converted into real stoves, either by not making them
sufficiently large, or by crowding them to excess, or by preventing the
access of air from without; and all this without recollecting that the
skin, thus over-excited, must necessarily fall into a state of atony in
a short time. Besides, the moist heat and the emanations of the dung
cannot fail to exercise a destructive influence on the lungs and entire
system. To these causes if we add the absolute want of exercise and the
excess of food, we shall not be surprised at the number of diseases
resulting from these different practices, and at the extraordinary forms
which they ofttimes assume.
"Persons propose to themselves, by feeding in the barn, to augment the
mass of dung; and the beasts are left in their excrement, sometimes up
to the very knees. Seldom is there any care taken to cleanse their skin,
and still less attention is directed to the feet. What wonder, then, if
they exhibit so many forms of disease?"
The byre recommended by Mr. Lawson consists of two apartments--an inner
apartment, or byre for feeding the cattle, and an outer apartment, or
barn for containing the fodder. The byre is constructed at right angles
with the barn, as follows: "At the distance of about three feet and a
half from the side of the building, within, there are constructed, on
the ground, in a straight line, a trough, having ten partitions for
feeding ten animals. The troughs are so constructed, that there is a
small and gradual declivity from the first or innermost to the last or
outermost one; and the partitions separating them being made with a
small arch at the bottom, a bucket of water, poured in at the uppermost,
runs out at the last one through a spout in the wall; and a sweep of the
broom carries off the whole remains of the food, rendering all the
troughs quite clean and sweet. The whole food of the cattle is thus kept
perfectly clean at all times.
"In a line with the feeding troughs, and immediately over them, runs a
strong beam of wood, from one end of the byre to the other; which is
strengthened by two strong upright supporters to the roof, placed at
equal distances from the ends of the byre; and the main beam is again
subdivided by the cattle stakes and chains, so as to keep each of the
ten oxen opposite to his own feeding trough and stall.
"The three and a half feet of space between the troughs and outer wall,
lighted by a glazed window, is the cattle feeder's walk, who passes
along it in front of the cattle, and, with a basket, deposits before
each of the cattle the food into the feeding trough of each. To prevent
any of the cattle from choking on small pieces of turnips, &c., as they
are very apt to do, the chains at the stakes are contrived of such a
length, that no ox can raise his head too high when eating; for in this
way, it is observed, cattle are generally choked.
"At the distance of about six feet eight inches from the feeding
troughs, and parallel to them, is a dung grove and urine gutter. Here
too, like the trough, there is a gradual declivity; so that the moment
the urine passes from the cattle, it runs to the lowest end of the
gutter, whence it is conveyed through the outer wall, in a spout, and
deposited in the urinarium outside of the building. At this place is a
large enclosed space, occupied as a compost dung-court. Here all sorts
of stuff are collected for increasing the manure, such as fat, earth,
cleanings of roads, ditches, ponds, rotten vegetables, &c.; and the
urine from the byre, being caused to run over all these collected
together, which is done very easily by a couple of wooden spouts, moved
backwards and forwards to the urinarium at pleasure, renders the whole
mass, in a short time, a rich compost dunghill; and this is done by the
urine alone, which, in general, is totally lost. The dung of the byre,
again, is cleared several times each day, and deposited in the
dung-court. Along the edge of the dung-court a few low sheds are
constructed, in which swine are kept, and these consume the refuse of
the food.
"In the side wall of the byre, and opposite to the heads of the cattle,
are constructed three ventilators; these are placed at the distance of
about two feet four inches from the ground, in the inside of the byre,
and pass out just under the roof. The inside openings of these are about
thirteen inches in length, seven in breadth, and nine in depth; and they
serve two good purposes. The breath of cattle being superficially
lighter than atmospheric air, the consequence is, that in some byres the
cattle are kept in a constant heat and sweat, because their breath and
heat have no way to escape; whereas, by means of the ventilators, the
air of the barn is kept in proper circulation, which conduces as much to
the health of the cattle as to the preservation of the walls and timber
of the byre, by drying up the moisture produced from the breath and
sweat of the cattle, which is found to injure those parts of the
building."
MILKING.
The operation of milking should, if possible, always be performed by the
same person, and in the most gentle manner; the violent tugging at the
teats by an inexperienced hand is apt to make the animal irritable and
uneasy during the operation, and unwilling to be milked. Many of the
diseases of the teats and udder can be traced to violence done to the
parts under the operation of milking. Young animals are often unwilling
to be milked: here a little patience and kindness will perform wonders.
It is not the quantity of milk that gives value to the dairy cow; for
the milk of one good cow will make more butter than that of two poor
ones, each giving the same quantity of milk. Its most abundant
principles are cream, caseous matter or curd, and whey. In these are
also contained a saccharine matter, (sugar of milk,) muriate and
phosphate of potassa, phosphate of lime, acetic acid, acetate of
potassa, and a trace of acetate of iron. The three principal
constituents (cream, curd, and whey) can easily be separated: thus the
cream rises to the surface, and the curd and whey will separate if the
milk becomes sour, or a little rennet is poured into it. When milk is
intended to be made into cheese, no part of the cream should be
separated. Good cheese is, consequently, rarely produced in those
dairies where much butter is made; the former being robbed for the sake
of the latter.
Sir J. Sinclair says, "If a few spoonfuls of milk are left in the udder
of the cow at milking; if any of the implements used in the dairy are
allowed to be tainted by neglect; if the dairy-house be kept dirty, or
out of order; if the milk is either too hot or too cold at coagulation;
if too much or too little rennet is put into the milk; if the whey is
not speedily taken off; if too much or too little salt is applied; if
butter is too slowly or too hastily churned; or if other minute
attentions are neglected, the milk will be in a great measure lost. If
these nice operations occurred once a month, or once a week, they might
be easily guarded against; but as they require to be observed during
every stage of the process, and almost every hour of the day, the most
vigilant attention must be kept up during the whole season."
A KNOWLEDGE OF AGRICULTURAL AND ANIMAL CHEMISTRY IMPORTANT TO FARMERS.
It is a well-known fact that plants require for their germination and
growth different constituents of soil, and that animals require
different forms of food to build up the waste, and promote the living
integrity--the vital powers.
Its order to supply the materials necessary for animal and vegetable
nutrition, we require alternate changes--the former in the diet, and the
latter in the soil. Experience has proved that the cultivation of a
plant for several successive years on the same soil impoverishes it, or
the plant degenerates. On the contrary, if a piece of land be suffered
to lie uncultivated for a short time, it will yield, in spite of the
loss of time, a greater quantity of grain; for, during the interval of
rest, the soil regains its original equilibrium. It has been
satisfactorily demonstrated that a fruit-tree cannot be made to grow and
bring forth good fruit on the same spot where another of the same
species has stood; at least not until a lapse of years. This is a fact
worth knowing, for it applies more or less to all forms of vegetation.
Another fact of experience is, that some plants thrive on the same soil
only after a lapse of years, while others may be cultivated in close
succession, _provided the soil is kept in equilibrium by artificial
means_; these are subsoiling, &c. Some kinds of plants improve the sod,
while others impoverish or exhaust it. Professor Liebig tells us,
"turnips, cabbages, beets, oats, and rye are considered to belong to the
class which impoverish the soil; while by wheat, hops, madder, hemp, and
poppies, it is supposed to be entirely exhausted." Many of our farmers
expend large sums of money in the purchase of manure, with a view of
improving the soil; and they suppose that their crops will be abundant
in proportion to the amount of manure; yet many have discovered that, in
spite of the extra expense and labor, the produce of their farms
decreased.
The alternation of crops seems destined to effect a great change in
agriculture. A French chemist informs us that the roots of plants imbibe
matter of every kind from the soil, and thus necessarily abstract a
number of substances, which are not adapted to the purposes of
nutrition, and that they are ultimately expelled by the excretory
vessels, and return to the soil as excrement. The excrementitious
portion of the food also returns to the soil. Now, as excrement cannot
be assimilated by the same animal or plant that ejected it, without
danger to the organs of digestion or eliminations, it follows that the
more vegetable excrement the soil contains, the more unfitted must it be
for plants of the same species; yet these excrementitious matters may,
however, still be capable of assimilation by another kind of plant,
which would absorb them from the soil, and render it again fertile for
the first. In connection with this, it has been observed that several
plants will flourish when growing beside each other; but it is not good
policy to sow two kinds of seed together: on the other hand, some plants
mutually prevent each other's development. The same happens if young
cattle are suffered to graze and sleep in the barn together; the one
lives at the expense of the other, which soon shows evidences of
disease. The injurious effects of permitting young children to sleep
with aged relatives are known to many of our readers; yet some parents
see their children sicken and die without knowing the why or wherefore.
From such facts as these,--which we might multiply to an indefinite
extent, were it necessary,--we learn that nature's laws are immutable
and uncompromising; and woe be to the man that transgresses them: they
are a part of the divine law, which cannot be set at nought with
impunity.
Ignorance on these important subjects has existed too long: yet we
perceive in the distant horizon a ray of intellectual light, streaming
through our schools and agricultural societies. The result will be, that
succeeding generations will be better acquainted with nature's laws,
from which shall flow untold blessings. Chemistry teaches us that
animals and vegetables are composed of a vast number of different
compounds, which are nearly all produced by the same elementary
principles. Vegetables consist of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen; and the
same substances, with the addition of nitrogen, are the principal
constituents of the animal economy. In a word, all the constituents of
animal creation have actually been discovered in vegetables: this has,
we presume, led to the conclusion that "all flesh is grass."
Many horticulturists complain that certain fruits and seeds have "_run
out_," or degenerated. Has the stately oak, the elm, or the cedar
degenerated? No. Each has preserved its identity, and will continue so
to do, at least just as the Divine Artist intended they should, unless
man, by his fancied improvements, interferes; and here, reader, permit
us to ask if you ever knew a piece of nature's mechanism improved by
human agency. Can we make a light better adapted to the wants of
animate and inanimate creation than that which the sun, moon, and stars
afford? Whenever we attempt to improve on immutable laws, as they are
written on the face of creation, that moment we prevent the full and
free play of these laws. Hence the practice of grafting scions of
delicious fruit-trees on stock of an inferior order compromises its
identity; and successive crops will show unmistakable evidences of
encroachment. A son of the lamented Mr. Phinney tells us that he had
some very fine sows, that he was desirous of breeding from, with a view
of making "improvements." He bred in a close degree of relationship: in
a short time, to use his own expression, "their sides appeared like two
boards nailed together." Does the farmer wish to know how to prevent
seeds and fruit "running out"? Let him study chemistry. Chemistry
furnishes the information; it also teaches the husbandman the fact, that
to put a plant, composed of certain essential elements, on a soil
destitute of those elements,--or to graft a scion, requiring a certain
amount of sap or juice, on a stock destitute of such sap or juice,
expecting that they will germinate, grow to perfection, and preserve
their identity,--would be just as absurd as to expect that a dry sow
would nourish a sucking pig.
Agriculture being based on the equilibrium of the soils, a knowledge of
chemistry is indispensable to every one who is desirous of keeping pace
with the reforms of the age; for it is through the medium of that
science alone that we are enabled to ascertain with certainty how this
equilibrium is disturbed by the growth of vegetation. Then is it not a
matter of deep interest to the farmer to know how this equilibrium is
restored?
Does the farmer wish to know what kind of soil is necessary to nourish
and mature a plant? Chemistry solves the problem. Does the farmer wish
to know how to improve the soil? Let him refer to chemistry. Chemistry
will teach the farmer how to analyze the soil; by that means he will
learn which of the constituent elements of the plants and soil are
constant, and which are changeable. By making an analysis of the soil
at different periods, through the process of germination, growth, and
maturity, we are enabled to ascertain the amount of excretory elements
given out. Bergman tells us that he found, by analysis, in "100 parts of
fertile soil, coarse silex 30 parts, silecia 30 parts, carbonate of lime
30 parts:" hence the fertility of the soil diminishes in proportion as
one or the other of these elements predominates.
Ashes of wheat contain, among other elementary substances, 48 parts of
silecia. Now, what farmer could expect to raise a good crop of wheat
from a soil destitute of silecious earth, since this earth constitutes a
large amount of the earthy part of wheat? There is no barrier to
agricultural improvement so effectual as for farmers to continue their
old customs purely because their forefathers did so. But prejudices are
fast dying away before the rays of intellectual illumination; the
farmers are fast seceding from the supposed infallibles of their
forefathers, and will soon become "book" as well as practical
husbandmen. "Book farming," assisted by practical knowledge, teaches
that manures require admixture of milder materials to mitigate their
force; for some of them communicate a disgusting or offensive quality to
vegetables. They are charged with imparting a biting and acrimonious
taste to radishes and turnips. Potatoes and grapes are known to borrow
the foul taint of the ground. Millers observe a strong, disagreeable
odor in the meal of wheat that grew upon land highly charged with the
rotten recrements of cities. Stable dung is known to impart a
disagreeable flavor to vegetables.
The same effects may be illustrated in the animal kingdom. Ducks are
rendered so ill tasted from stuffing down garbage as sometimes to be
offensive to the palate when cooked. The quality of pork is known by the
food of the swine, and the peculiar flavor of water-fowl is rationally
traced to the fish they devour. Thus a portion of the elements of manure
and nutrimental matter passes into the living bodies without being
entirely subdued. For example, we can alter the color of the cow's milk
by mixing madder or saffron in the food; the odor may be influenced by
garlic; the flavor may be altered by pine and wormwood; and lastly, the
medicinal effect may be influenced.
In the cultivation of grass the farmer will find it to his advantage to
cultivate none but the best kinds; the whole pasture lands will then be
filled with valuable grass seeds. The number of grass seeds worth
cultivating is but few, and these should be sown separately. It is bad
policy to sow different kinds of grass seed together--just as bad as to
sow wheat, oats, turnips, and corn promiscuously.
The reason why the farmers, as a community, will be benefited by sowing
none but the best seed is, because grass seeds are distributed through
neighboring pastures by the winds, and there take root. Now, if the
neighboring pastures abound in inferior grasses, the fields will soon be
filled with useless plants, which are very difficult to be got rid of.
We refer those of our readers who desire to make themselves acquainted
with animal chemistry to Professor Liebig's work on that science.
ON BREEDING.
Large sums of money have, from time to time, been expended with a view
of improving stock, and many superior cattle have been introduced into
this country; yet, after a few generations, the beautiful form and
superior qualities of the originals are nearly lost, and the importer
finds to his cost that the produce is no better than that of his
neighbors. What are the causes of this deterioration? We are told--and
experience confirms the fact--that "like produces like." Good qualities
and perfect organization are perpetuated by a union of animals
possessing those properties: of course it follows, that malformation,
hereditary taints, and vices are transmitted and aggravated.
The destructive practice of breeding "in and in," or, in other words,
selecting animals of the same family, is one of the first causes of
degeneracy; and this destructive practice has proved equally unfortunate
in the human family. Physical defects are the result of the
intermarriage of near relatives. In Spain, the deformed and feeble state
of the aristocracy arises from their alliances being confined to the
same class of relatives through successive generations. But we need not
go to Spain to verify such facts. Go into our churchyards, and read on
the tombstones the names of thousands of infants,--gems withered in the
bud,--young men, and maidens, cut down and consigned to a premature
grave; and then prove, if you can, that early marriages and near
alliances are not the chief causes of this great mortality.
Mr. Colman, in an article on live stock, says, "There seems to be a
limit beyond which no person can go. The particular breed may be altered
and improved, but an entirely new breed cannot be produced; and in every
departure from the original there is a constant tendency to revert back
to it. The stock of the improved Durham cattle seems to establish this
fact. If we have the true history of it, it is a cross of a Teeswater
bull with a Galloway cow. The Teeswater or Yorkshire stock are a large,
coarse-boned animal: the object of this cross was to get a smaller bone
and greater compactness. By attempting to carry this improvement, if I
may so call it, still further by breeding continually in and in, that
is, with members of the same family, in a close degree of affinity, the
power of continuing the species seems to become extinct; at least it
approximates to such a result. On the other hand, by wholly neglecting
all selection, and without an occasional good cross with an animal of
some foreign blood, there appears a tendency to revert back to the
large-boned, long-legged animal, from which the _improvement_ began.
"There are, however, several instances of superior animals bred in the
closest affinity; whilst, in a very great majority of cases, the failure
has been excessive."
Overtaxing the generative powers of the male is another cause of
deterioration. The reader is probably aware of the woful results
attending too frequent sexual intercourse. If he has not given this
subject the attention it demands, then let him read the records of our
lunatic asylums: they tell a sad tale of woe, and prove to demonstration
that, before the blast of this dire tornado, _sexual excess_, lofty
minds, the suns and stars of our intellectual world, are suddenly
blotted out. It spares neither age, sex, profession, nor kind. Dr. White
relates a case which substantiates the truth of our position. "The
Prince of Wales, who afterwards became George the Fourth, had a stud
horse of very superior qualities. His highness caused a few of his own
mares to be bred to this stallion, and the produce proved every way
worthy of the sire. This horse was kept at Windsor for public covering
without charge, except the customary groom's fee of half a guinea. The
groom, anxious to pocket as many half guineas as possible, persuaded all
he could to avail themselves of the prince's liberality. The result was,
that, being kept in a stable without sufficient exercise, and covering
nearly one hundred mares yearly, the stock, although tolerably promising
in their early age, shot up into lank, weakly, awkward, good-for-nothing
creatures, to the entire ruin of the horse's character and sire. Some
gentlemen, aware of the cause, took pains to explain it, proving the
correctness of their statement by reference to the first of the horses
got, which were among the best horses in England."
There is no doubt but that brutes are often endowed with extraordinary
powers for sexual indulgence; yet, when kept for the purpose alluded to,
without sufficient muscular exercise,--breathing impure air, and living
on the fat of the farm,--his services in constant requisition,--then it
is no wonder, that if, under these circumstances, the offspring are weak
and inefficient.
Professor Youatt recommends that "valuable qualities once established,
which it is desirable to keep up, should thereafter be preserved by
occasional crosses with the best animals to be had of the same breed,
but of a different family. This is the great secret which has maintained
the blood horse in his great superiority."
The live stock of our farmers frequently degenerates in a very short
space of time. The why and the wherefore is not generally understood;
neither will it be, until animal physiology shall be better understood
than it is at the present time. Men are daily violating the laws of
animal organization in more ways than one, in the breeding, rearing, and
general management of all kinds of domestic animals,--until the
different breeds are so amalgamated, that, in many cases, it is a
difficult task to ascertain, with any degree of certainty, their
pedigree. If a farmer has in his possession a bull of a favorite breed,
the neighboring stock-raisers avail themselves of his bullship's
services by sending as many cows to him as possible: the consequence is,
that the offspring got in the latter part of the season are good for
nothing. The cow also, at the time of impregnation, may be in a state of
debility, owing to some derangement in the organs of digestion; if so,
impregnation is very likely to make the matter worse; for great sympathy
exists between the organs of generation and those of digestion, and
females of every order suffer more or less from a disturbed state of the
stomach during the early months of pregnancy. In fact, during the whole
stage they should be considered far from a state of health. Add to this
the fact that impregnated cows are milked, (not generally, yet we know
of such cases:) the foetus is thus deprived of its due share of
nourishment, and the extra nutrimental agents, necessary for its growth
and development, must be furnished at the expense of the mother. She, in
her turn, soon shows unmistakable evidences of this "robbing Peter to
pay Paul" system, by her sunken eye, loss of flesh, &c., and often,
before she has seen her sixth month of pregnancy, liberates the foetus
by a premature birth--in short, pays the penalty of disobedience to the
immutable law of nature. On the other hand, should such a cow go safely
through the whole period of gestation and parturition, the offspring
will not be worth keeping, and the milk of the former will lack, in some
measure, those constituents which go to make good milk, and without
which it is almost worthless for making butter or cheese. A cow should
never be bred from unless she shall be in good health and flesh. If she
cannot be fatted, then she may be spayed. (See article _Spaying Cows_.)
By that means, her health will improve, and she will be made a permanent
milker. Degeneracy may arise from physical defects on the part of the
bull. It is well known that infirmities, faults, and defects are
communicated by the sexual congress to the parties as well as their
offspring. Hence a bull should never be bred to unless he possesses the
requisite qualifications of soundness, form, size, and color. There are
a great number of good-for-nothing bulls about the country, whose
services can be had for a trifle; under these circumstances, and when
they can be procured without the trouble of sending the cow even a short
distance, it will be difficult to effect a change.
If the farming community desire to put a stop to this growing evil, let
them instruct their representatives to advocate the enactment of a law
prohibiting the breeding to bulls or stallions unless they shall possess
the necessary qualifications.
[Illustration: A First Prize Short Horned Bull]
THE BULL.
Mr. Lawson gives us the following description of a good bull. It would
be difficult to find one corresponding in all its details to this
description; yet it will give the reader an idea of what a good bull
ought to be. "The head of the bull should be rather long, and muzzle
fine; his eyes lively and prominent; his ears long and thin; his horns
white; his neck rising with a gentle curve from the shoulders, and small
and fine where it joins the head; his shoulders moderately broad at the
top, joining full to his chine and chest backwards, and to the neck-vein
forwards; his bosom open; breast broad, and projecting well before his
legs; his arms or fore thighs muscular, and tapering to his knees; his
legs straight, clean, and very fine boned; his chine and chest so full
as to leave no hollows behind the shoulders; the plates strong, to keep
his belly from sinking below the level of his breast; his back or loin
broad, straight, and flat; his ribs rising one above another, in such
a manner that the last rib shall be rather the highest, leaving only a
small space to the hips, the whole forming a round or barrel-like
carcass; his hips should be wide placed, round or globular, and a little
higher than the back; the quarters (from the hips to the rump) long,
and, instead of being square, as recommended by some, they should taper
gradually from the hips backwards; rump close to the tail; the tail
broad, well haired, and set on so as to be in the same horizontal line
with his back."
VALUE OF DIFFERENT BREEDS OF COWS.
Mr. Culley, in speaking of the relative value of long and short horns,
says, "The long-horns excel in the thickness and firm texture of the
hide, in the length and closeness of the hair, in their beef being finer
grained and more mixed and marbled than that of the short-horns, in
weighing more in proportion to their size, and in giving richer milk;
but they are inferior to the short-horns in giving a less quantity of
milk, in weighing less upon the whole, in affording less fat when
killed, in being generally slower feeders, in being coarser made, and
more leathery or bullish in the under side of the neck. In a few words,
the long-horns excel in hide, hair, and quality of beef; the short-horns
in the quantity of beef, fat, and milk. Each breed has long had, and
probably may have, their particular advocates; but if I may hazard a
conjecture, is it not probable that both kinds may have their particular
advantages in different situations? Why not the thick, firm hides, and
long, closer set hair, of the one kind be a protection and security
against tempestuous winds and heavy fogs and rains, while a regular
season and mild climate are more suitable to the constitutions of the
short-horns? But it has hitherto been the misfortune of the short-horned
breeders to seek the largest and biggest boned ones for the best,
without considering that those are the best that bring the most money
for a given quantity of food. However, the ideas of our short-horned
breeders being now more enlarged, and their minds more open to
conviction, we may hope in a few years to see great improvements made
in that breed of cattle.
"I would recommend to breeders of cattle to find out which breed is the
most profitable, and which are best adapted to the different situations,
and endeavor to improve that breed to the utmost, rather than try to
unite the particular qualities of two or more distinct breeds by
crossing, which is a precarious practice, for we generally find the
produce inherit the coarseness of both breeds, and rarely attain the
good properties which the pure distinct breeds individually possess.
"Short-horned cows yield much milk; the long-horned give less, but the
cream is more abundant and richer. The same quantity of milk also yields
a greater proportion of cheese. The Polled or Galloway cows are
excellent milkers, and their milk is rich. The Suffolk duns are much
esteemed for the abundance of their milk, and the excellence of the
butter it produces. Ayrshire or Kyloe cows are much esteemed in
Scotland; and in England the improved breed of the long-horned cattle is
highly prized in many dairy districts. Every judicious selector,
however, will always, in making his choice, keep in view not only the
different sons and individuals of the animal, but also the nature of the
farm on which the cows are to be put, and the sort of manufactured
produce he is anxious to bring to market. The best age for a milch cow
is betwixt four, or five, and ten. When old, she will give more milk;
but it is of an inferior quality, and she is less easily supported."
METHOD OF PREPARING RENNET, AS PRACTISED IN ENGLAND.
Take the calf's maw, or stomach, and having taken out the curd contained
therein, wash it clean, and salt it thoroughly, inside and out, leaving
a white coat of salt over every part of it. Put it into an earthen jar,
or other vessel, and let it stand three or four days; in which time it
will have formed the salt and its own natural juice into a pickle. Take
it out of the jar, and hang it up for two or three days, to let the
pickle drain from it; resalt it; place it again in the jar; cover it
tight down with a paper, pierced with a large pin; and let it remain
thus till it is wanted for use. In this state it ought to be kept twelve
months; it may, however, in case of necessity, be used a few days after
it has received the second salting; but it will not be as strong as if
kept a longer time. To prepare the rennet for use, take a handful of the
leaves of the sweet-brier, the same quantity of rose and bramble leaves;
boil them in a gallon of water, with three or four handfuls of salt,
about a quarter of an hour; strain off the liquor, and, having let it
stand until perfectly cool, put it into an earthen vessel, and add to it
the maw prepared as above. To this add a sound, good lemon, stuck round
with about a quarter of an ounce of cloves, which give the rennet an
agreeable flavor. The longer the bag remains in the liquor, the
stronger, of course, will be the rennet. The amount, therefore,
requisite to turn a given quantity of milk, can only be ascertained by
daily use and observation. A sort of average may be something less than
a half pint of good rennet to fifty gallons of milk. In Gloucestershire,
they employ one third of a pint to coagulate the above quantity.
MAKING CHEESE.
IT is generally admitted that many dairy farmers pay more attention to
the quantity than the quality of this article of food; now, as cheese is
"a surly elf, digesting every thing but itself," (this of course applies
to some of the white oak specimens, which, like the Jew's razors, were
made to sell,) it is surely a matter of great importance that they
should attend more to the quality, especially if it be intended for
exportation. There is no doubt but the home consumption of good cheese
would soon materially increase, for many thousands of our citizens
refuse to eat of the miserable stuff "misnamed cheese."
The English have long been celebrated for the superior quality of their
cheese; and we have thought that we cannot do a better service to our
dairy farmers than to give, in as few words as possible, the various
methods of making the different kinds of cheese, for which we are
indebted to Mr. Lawson's work on cattle.
"It is to be observed, in general, that cheese varies in quality,
according as it has been made of milk of one meal, or two meals, or of
skimmed milk; and that the season of the year, the method of milking,
the preparation of the rennet, the mode of coagulation, the breaking and
gathering of the curd, the management of the cheese in the press, the
method of salting, and the management of the cheese-room, are all
objects of the highest importance to the cheese manufacturer; and yet,
notwithstanding this, the practice, in most of these respects, is still
regulated by little else than mere chance or custom, without the
direction of enlightened observation or the aid of well-conducted
experiment.
GLOUCESTER CHEESE.
"In Gloucestershire, where the manufacture of cheese is perhaps as well
understood as in any part of the world, they make the best cheeses of a
single meal of milk; and, when this is done in the best manner, the
entire meal of milk is used, without any addition from a former meal.
But it not unfrequently happens that a portion of the milk is reserved
and set by to be skimmed for butter; and at the next milking this
proportion is added to the new milk, from which an equal quantity has
been taken for a similar purpose. One meal cheeses are principally made
here, and go by the name of _best making_, or simply _one meal cheeses_.
The cheeses are distinguished into _thin_ and _thick_, or _single_ and
_double_; the last having usually four to the hundred weight, (112
pounds,) the other about twice that number. The best double Gloucester
is always made from new milk.
"The true single Gloucester cheese is thought by many to be the best, in
point of flavor, of any we have. The season for making their thin or
single cheese is mostly from April to November; but the principal season
for the thick or double is confined to May, June, and the early part of
July. This is a busy season in the dairy; for at an earlier period the
milk is not rich enough, and if the cheese be made later in the summer,
they do not acquire sufficient age to be marketable next spring. Very
many cheeses, however, can be made even in winter from cows that are
well fed. The cows are milked in summer at a very early hour; generally
by four o'clock in the morning, before the day becomes hot, and the
animals restless and unruly.
CHESTER CHEESE.
"After the milk has been strained, to free it from any impurities, it is
conveyed into a cooler placed upon feet like a table, having a spigot at
the bottom for drawing off the milk. This, when sufficiently cooled, is
drawn off into pans, and the cooler again filled. In so cases, the
cooler is large enough to hold a whole meal's milk at once. The rapid
cooling thus produced (which, however, is necessary only in hot weather,
and during the summer season) is found to be of essential utility in
retarding the process of fermentation, and thereby preventing putridity
from commencing in the milk before two meals of it can be put together.
Some have thought that the cheese might be improved by cooling the
evening's milk still more rapidly, and that this might be effected by
repeatedly drawing it off from and returning it into the cistern. When
the milk is too cold, a portion of it is warmed over the fire and mixed
with the rest.
"The coloring matter, (annatto,) in Cheshire, is added by tying up as
much of the substance as is thought sufficient in a linen rag, and
putting it into a half pint of warm water, to stand over night. The
whole of this infusion is, in the morning, mixed with the milk in the
cheese-tub, and the rag dipped in the milk and rubbed on the palm of the
hand as long as any of the coloring matter can be made to come away.
"The next operation is salting; and this is done, either by laying the
cheese, immediately after it comes out of the press, on a clean, fine
cloth in the vat, immersed in brine, to remain for several days, turning
it once every day at least; or by covering the upper surface of the
cheese with salt every time it is turned, and repeating the application
for three successive days, taking care to change the cloth twice during
the time. In each of these methods, the cheese, after being so treated,
is taken out of the vat, placed upon the salting bench, and the whole
surface of it carefully rubbed with salt daily for eight or ten days. If
it be large, a wooden hoop or a fillet of cloth is employed to prevent
renting. The cheese is then washed in warm water or whey, dried with a
cloth, and laid on what is called the _drying bench_. It remains there
for about a week, and is thence removed to the _keeping house_. In
Cheshire, it is found that the greatest quantity of salt used for a
cheese of sixty pounds is about three pounds; but the proportion of this
retained in the cheese has not been determined.
"When, after salting and drying, the cheeses are deposited in the
cheese-room or store-house, they are smeared all over with fresh butter,
and placed on shelves fitted to the purpose, or on the floor. During the
first ten or fifteen days, smart rubbing is daily employed, and the
smearing with butter repeated. As long, however, as they are kept, they
should be every day turned; and the usual practice is to rub them three
times a week in summer and twice in winter.
STILTON CHEESE.
"Stilton cheese is made by putting the night's cream into the morning's
new milk along with the rennet. When the curd has come, it is not
broken, as in making other cheese, but taken out whole, and put into a
sieve to drain gradually. While this is going on, it is gently pressed,
and, having become firm and dry, is put into a vat, and kept on a dry
board. These cheeses are exceedingly rich and valuable. They are called
the Parmesan of England, and weigh from ten to twelve pounds. The
manufacture of them is confined almost exclusively to Leicestershire,
though not entirely so.
DUNLOP CHEESE.
"In Scotland, a species of cheese is produced, which has long been known
and celebrated under the name of _Dunlop_ cheese. The best cheese is
made by such as have a dozen or more cows, and consequently can make a
cheese every day; one half of the milk being immediately from the cow,
and the other of twelve hours' standing. Their method of making it is
simple. They endeavor to have the milk as near as may be to the heat of
new milk, when they apply the rennet, and whenever coagulation has taken
place, (which is generally in ten or twelve minutes,) they stir the curd
gently, and the whey, beginning to separate, is taken off as it gathers,
till the curd be pretty solid. When this happens, they put it into a
drainer with holes, and apply a weight. As soon as this has had its
proper effect, the curd is put back again into the cheese-tub, and, by
means of a sort of knife with three or four blades, is cut into very
small pieces, salted, and carefully mixed by the hand. It is now placed
in the vat, and put under the press. This is commonly a large stone of a
cubical shape, from half a ton to a ton in weight, fixed in a frame of
wood, and raised and lowered by an iron screw. The cheese is frequently
taken out, and the cloth changed; and as soon as it has been ascertained
that no more whey remains, it is removed, and placed on a dry board or
pine floor. It is turned and rubbed frequently with a hard, coarse
cloth, to prevent moulding or breeding mites. No coloring matter is
used in making Dunlop cheese, except by such as wish to imitate the
English cheese.
GREEN CHEESE.
"Green cheese is made by steeping ever night, in a proper quantity of
milk, two parts of sage with one of marigold leaves, and a little
parsley, after being bruised, and then mixing the curd of the milk, thus
_greened_, as it is called, with the curd of the white milk. These may
be mixed irregularly or fancifully, according to the pleasure of the
operator. The management in other respects is the same as for common
cheese."
* * * * *
Mr. Colman says, "In conversation with one of the largest wholesale
cheesemongers and provision-dealers in the country, he suggested that
there were two great faults of the American cheese, which somewhat
prejudiced its sale in the English market. He is a person in whose
character and experience entire confidence may be placed.
"The first fault was the softness of the rind. It often cracked, and the
cheese became spoiled from that circumstance.
"The second fault is the acridness, or peculiar, smart, bitter taste
often found in American cheese. He thought this might be due, in part,
to some improper preparation or use of the rennet, and, in part, to some
kind of feed which the cows found in the pastures.
"The rind may be made of any desired hardness, if the cheese be taken
from the press, and allowed to remain in brine, so strong that it will
take up no more salt, for four or five hours. There must be great care,
however, not to keep it too long in the brine.
"The calf from which the rennet is to be taken should not be allowed to
suck on the day on which it is killed. The office of the rennet, or
stomach of the calf, is, to supply the gastric juice by which the
curdling of the milk is effected. If it has recently performed that
office, it will have become, to a degree, exhausted of its strength. Too
much rennet should not be applied. Dairymaids, in general, are anxious
to have the curd 'come soon,' and so apply an excessive quantity, to
which he thinks much of the acrid taste of the cheese is owing. Only so
much should be used as will produce the effect in about fifty minutes.
For the reason above given, the rennet should not, he says, be washed in
water when taken from the calf, as it exhausts its strength, but be
simply salted.
"When any cream is taken from the milk to be made into butter, the
buttermilk should be returned to the milk of which the cheese is to be
made. The greatest care should be taken in separating the whey from the
cheese. When the pressing or handling is too severe, the whey that runs
from the curd will appear of a white color. This is owing to its
carrying off with it the small creamy particles of the cheese, which
are, in fact, the richest part of it. After the curd is cut or broken,
therefore, and not squeezed with the hand, and all the whey is allowed
to separate from it that can be easily removed, the curd should be taken
out of the tub with the greatest care, and laid upon a coarse cloth
attached to a frame like a sieve, and there suffered to drain until it
becomes quite dry and mealy, before being put into the press. The object
of pressing should be, not to express the whey, but to consolidate the
cheese. There should be no aim to make whey butter. All the butter
extracted from the whey is so much of the proper richness taken from the
cheese."
MAKING BUTTER.
It is a matter of impossibility to make a superior article of butter
from the milk of a cow in a diseased state; for if either of the organs
of secretion, absorption, digestion, or circulation, be deranged, we
cannot expect good blood. The milk being a secretion from the blood, it
follows that, in order to have good milk, we must have pure blood. A
great deal depends also on the food; certain pastures are more favorable
to the production of good milk than others. We know that many
vegetables, such as turnips, garlic, dandelions, will impart a
disagreeable flavor to the milk. On the other hand, sweet-scented
grasses and boiled food improve the quality, and, generally, increase
the quantity of the milk, provided, however, the digestive organs are in
a physiological state.
The processes of making butter are various in different parts of the
United States. We are not prepared, from experience, to discuss the
relative merits of the different operations of churning; suffice it
to say, that the important improvements that have recently been made in
the construction of churns promise to be of great advantage to the
dairyman.
The method of churning in England is considered to be favorable to the
production of good butter. From twelve to twenty hours in summer, and
about twice as long in winter, are permitted to elapse before the milk
is skimmed, after it has been put into the milk-pans. If, on applying
the tip of the finger to the surface, nothing adheres to it, the cream
may be properly taken off; and during the hot summer months, this should
always be done in the morning, before the dairy becomes warm. The cream
should then be deposited in a deep pan, placed in the coolest part of
the dairy, or in a cool cellar, where free air is admitted. In hot
weather, churning should be performed, if possible, every other day; but
if this is not convenient, the cream should be daily shifted into a
clean pan, and the churning should never be less frequent than twice a
week. This work should be performed in the coolest time of the day, and
in the coolest part of the house. Cold water should be applied to the
churn, first by filling it with this some time before the cream is
poured in, or it may be kept cool by the application of a wet cloth.
Such means are generally necessary, to prevent the too rapid
acidification of the cream, and formation of the butter. We are indebted
for much of the poor butter, (_cart-grease_ would be a more suitable
name,) in which our large cities abound, to want of due care in
churning: it should never be done too hastily, but--like "Billy Gray's"
drumming--well done. In winter the churn may be previously heated by
first filling it with hot water, the operation to be performed in a
moderately warm room.
In churning, a moderate and uninterrupted motion should be kept up
during the whole process; for if the motion be too rapid, heat is
generated, which will give the butter a rank flavor; and if the motion
is relaxed, the butter will go back, as it is termed.
WASHING BUTTER.
"When the operation is properly conducted, the butter, after some time,
suddenly forms, and is to be carefully collected and separated from the
buttermilk. But in doing this, it is not sufficient merely to pour off
the milk, or withdraw the butter from it; because a certain portion of
the caseous and serous parts of the milk still remains in the
interstices of the butter, and must be detached from it by washing, if
we would obtain it pure. In washing butter, some think it sufficient to
press the mass gently between the hands; others press it strongly and
frequently, repeating the washings till the water comes off quite clear.
The first method is preferable when the butter is made daily, for
immediate use, from new milk or cream; because the portions of such
adhering to it, or mixed with it, contribute to produce the sweet
agreeable flavor which distinguishes new cream. But when our object is
to prepare butter for keeping, we cannot repeat the washings too often,
since the presence of a small quantity of milk in it will, in less than
twelve hours after churning, cause it sensibly to lose its good
qualities.
"The process of washing butter is usually nothing more than throwing it
into an earthen vessel of clear cool water, working it to and fro with
the hands, and changing the water until it comes off clear. A much
preferable method, however, and that which we believe is now always
practised by those who best understand the business, is to use two broad
pieces of wood, instead of the hands. This is to be preferred, not only
on account of its apparently greater cleanliness, but also because it is
of decided advantage to the quality of the butter. To this the warmth of
the hand gives always, more or less, a greasy appearance. The influence
of the heat of the hand is greater than might at first have been
suspected. It has always been remarked, that a person who has naturally
a warm hand never makes good butter."
COLORING BUTTER.
As butter made in winter is generally pale or white, and its richness,
at the same time, inferior to that which is made during the summer
months, the idea of excellence has been associated with the yellow
color. Means are therefore employed, by those who prepare and sell
butter, to impart to it the yellow color where that is naturally
wanting. The substances mostly employed in England and Scotland are the
root of the carrot and the flowers of the marigold. The juice of either
of these is expressed and passed through a linen cloth. A small quantity
of it (and the proportion of it necessary is soon learned by experience)
is diluted with a little cream, and this mixture is added to the rest of
the cream when it enters the churn. So little of this coloring matter
unites with the butter, that it never communicates to it any peculiar
taste.
DESCRIPTION OF THE ORGANS OF DIGESTION IN CATTLE.
_Oesophagus_, or _Gullet_.--This tube extends from the mouth to the
stomach, and is the medium through which the food is conveyed to the
latter organ. This tube is furnished with spiral muscles, which run in
different directions. By this arrangement, the food ascends or descends
at the will of the animal. The inner coat of the gullet is a
continuation of the same membrane that lines the mouth, nostrils, &c.
The gullet passes down the neck, inclining to the left side of the
windpipe, until it reaches the diaphragm, through a perforation of which
it passes, and finally terminates in the stomach. The food, having
undergone a slight mastication by the action of the teeth, is formed
into a pellet, and, being both moistened and lubricated with saliva,
passes down the gullet, by the action of the muscles, and falls
immediately into the paunch, or rumen; here the food undergoes a process
of maceration, or trituration. The food, after remaining in this portion
of the stomach a short time, and being submitted to the united action of
heat and moisture, passes into another division of the stomach, called
_reticulum_, the inner surface of which abounds in cells: at the bottom,
and indeed in all parts of them there are glands, which secrete from the
blood the gastric fluids. This stomach possesses a property similar to
that of the bladder, viz., that of contracting upon its contents. In the
act of contracting, it squeezes out a portion of the partly masticated
food and fluids; the former comes within the spiral muscles, is embraced
by them, and thus ascends the gullet, and passes into the mouth for
remastication. The soft and fluid parts continue on to the many plus and
true digestive stomach. The second stomach again receives a portion from
the paunch, and the process is continued.
Rumination and digestion, however, are mechanico-vital actions, and can
only be properly performed when the animal is in a healthy state.
Now, a portion of the food, we just observed, had ascended the gullet
by the aid of spiral muscles, and entered the mouth; it is again
submitted to the action of the grinders, and a fresh supply of saliva;
it is at length swallowed a second time, and goes through the same
routine as that just described, passing into the manyplus or manifolds,
as it is termed.
The manyplus abounds internally in a number of leaves, called laminae.
Some of these are attached to the upper and lower portion of the
division, and also float loose, and penetrate into the oesophagian
canal. The laminae have numerous projections on their surface, resembling
the papillae to be found on the tongue. The action of this stomach is one
of alternate contraction and expansion: it secretes, however, like the
other compartments of the stomach, its due share of gastric fluids, with
a view not only of softening its contents, but for the purpose of
defending its own surface against friction. The mechanical action of the
stomach is communicated to it partly by the motion of the diaphragm, and
its own muscular arrangement. It will readily be perceived, that by this
joint action the food is submitted to a sort of grinding process. Hence
any over-distention of the viscera, from either food or gas, will
embarrass and prevent the free and full play of this organ. The papillae,
or prominences, present a rough and sufficiently hard exterior to grind
down the food, unless it shall have escaped the reticulum in too fibrous
a form: foxgrass, cornstalks, and frosted turnips are very apt to make
sad havoc in this and other parts of the stomach, owing to their
unyielding nature; for the stomach, like other parts of the
organization, suffers from over-exertion, and a corresponding debility
ensues.
The fourth division of the stomach of the ox is called _abomasum_. It
somewhat resembles the duodenum of the horse in its function, it being
the true digestive stomach. It is studded with numerous nerves,
blood-vessels, and small glands. It is a laboratory admirably fitted up
by the Divine Artist, and is capable of carrying on the chemico-vital
process as long as the animal lives, provided its healthy functions are
not impaired. The glands alluded to secrete from the blood a powerful
solvent, called the _gastric juice_, which is the agent in reducing the
food to chyme and chyle. This, however, is accomplished by the united
agency of the bile and pancreatic juice. Both these fluids are conveyed
into the abomasum by means of small tubes or canals. Secretions also
take place from the inner membrane of the intestines, and, as the result
of the united action of all these fluids, aided by the muscular motion
just alluded to, which is also communicated to the intestines, a
substance is formed called _chyle_, which is the most nutritious portion
of the food, and has a milky appearance. The chyle is received into a
set of very minute tubes, called _lacteals_, which are exceedingly
numerous, and arise by open mouths from the inner surface of the
abomasum and intestines. They receive the chyle; from thence it passes
into a receptacle, and finally into the thoracic duct. The thoracic duct
opens into a vein leading directly to the heart; so that whatever
portion of the chyle is not actually needed by the organism is
thoroughly mixed with the general mass of blood. That portion of chyme
which is not needed, or cannot be converted into chyle, descends into
the intestines, and is finally carried out of the body by the rectum.
The manner in which the gastric fluids act on alimentary matter, is by
solution and chemical action; for cornstalks and foxgrass, that cannot
be dissolved by ammonia or alcohol, yield readily to the solvent power
of the gastric secretion. Bones and other hard substances are reduced to
a pulpy mass in the stomach of a dog; while, at the same time, many
bodies of delicate texture remain in the stomach, and ultimately are
ejected, without being affected by the gastric fluids. This different
action on different subjects is analogous to the operation of chemical
affinity, and corroborates the theory that digestion is effected by
solution and chemical action.
_The Spleen_, or _Milt_, is an oblong, dark-colored substance, having
attachments to the paunch. It is composed of blood-vessels, nerves, and
lymphatics, united by cellular structure. It appears to serve as a
reservoir for the blood that may be designed for the secretions of bile
in the liver. P. M. Roget says, "Any theory that assigns a very
important function to the spleen will be overturned by the fact, that in
many animals the removal of this organ, far from being fatal, or
interrupting, in any sensible manner, the continuance of the functions,
seems to be borne with perfect impunity." Sir E. Home, Bichat, Leuret,
Lassaigne, and others, suppose that "the spleen serves as a receptacle
for the superfluous quantity of fluid taken into the stomach."
_The Liver_ is a dense gland, of a lobulated structure, situated below
the diaphragm, or "skirt." It is supplied, like other organs, with
arterial blood, by vessels, called _hepatic_ arteries, which are sent
off from the great aorta. It receives also a large amount of venous
blood, which is distributed through its substance by a separate set of
vessels, derived from the venous system. The veins which receive the
blood that has circulated in the usual manner unite together into a
large trunk, called vena portae, (gate vein,) and this vein, on entering
the liver, ramifies like an artery, and ultimately terminates in the
branches of the hepatic veins, which transmit the blood, in the ordinary
course of circulation, to the vena cava, (hollow vein.) Mr. Kiernan
says, "The hepatic veins, together with the lobules which surround them,
resemble, in their arrangement, the branches and leaves of a tree, the
substance of the lobules being disposed around the minute branches of
the veins like the parenchyma of a leaf around its fibres. The hepatic
veins may be divided into two classes, namely, those contained in
lobules, and those contained in canals formed by lobules. The first
class is composed of interlobular branches, one of which occupies the
centre of each lobule, and receives the blood from a plexus formed in
the lobule by the portal vein; and the second class of hepatic veins is
composed of all those vessels contained in canals formed by the lobules,
and including numerous small branches, as well as the large trunks
terminating in the inferior cava. The external surface of every lobule
is covered by an expansion of '_Glisson's capsule_,' by which it is
connected to, as well as separated from, contiguous lobules, and in
which branches of the hepatic duct, portal veins, and hepatic artery
ramify. The ultimate branches of the hepatic artery terminate in the
branches of the portal vein, where the blood they respectively contain
is mixed together, and from which mixed blood the bile is secreted by
the lobules, and conveyed away by the hepatic ducts. The remaining blood
is returned to the heart by the hepatic veins, the beginnings of which
occupy the centre of each lobule, and, when collected into trunks, pour
their contents into the inferior cava. Hence the blood which has
circulated through the liver, and has thereby lost its arterial
character, is, in common with that which is returning from other parts,
poured into the vena portae, and contributes its share in furnishing
materials for the biliary secretion. The hepatic artery furnishes
nutrition to the liver itself."
The bile, having been secreted, accumulates in the gall-bladder, where
it is kept for future use. When the healthy action of the fourth stomach
is interrupted, the bile is supposed to be reabsorbed,--it enters into
the different tissues, producing yellowness of the eyes; the malady is
then termed _yellows_, _jaundice_, &c. Sometimes the passage of the bile
is obstructed by calculi, or gall-stones; they have been found in great
numbers in oxen.
_The Pancreas_ is composed of a number of lobules or glands; a small
duct proceeds from each; they unite and form a common canal, which
proceeds towards, and terminates in, the fourth stomach. The pancreatic
juice appears to be exceedingly analogous, both in its sensible
properties and chemical composition, to the saliva.
"The recent researches of MM. Bouchardat, Sandras, Mialhe, Bareswil, and
Bernard himself, have placed beyond a doubt the existence of a ferment,
in some of the fluids which mix with the alimentary mass, destined to
convert starchy matters into sugar. They have proved that the gastric
juice has for its peculiar office the solution and digestion of azotized
substances. There remained to be ascertained the real agent for the
digestion of fatty matters; that is to say, the agent in the formation
of chyle out of those substances.
"M. Bernard has proved that this remarkable office is performed by the
pancreatic juice; he has demonstrated the fact by three conclusive
proofs.
"1. The pancreatic juice, pure and recently formed, forms an emulsion
with oils and fats with the greatest facility. This emulsion may be
preserved for a long time, and the fatty substance soon undergoes a
fermentation which separates its constituent acids.
"2. The chyle only begins to appear in the lacteals below that part of
the intestinal tube where the pancreatic juice enters it to mix with the
alimentary matters.
"3. In disorders of the pancreas, we find that the fatty matters,
contained in the food, pass entire in the evacuations."
The above is an extract from the report of a body composed of several
members of the French Academy of Sciences. "M. Bernard" (continues the
report) "has exhibited to us the first of these experiments, and has
furnished us with the means of repeating it with the several varieties
of the gastric juice. We have not the slightest doubt on the subject. It
is incontestable that fatty substances are converted into an emulsion by
this juice, in a manner easy and persistent, and it is no less true that
the saliva, the gastric juice, and the bile are destitute of this
property.
"The second demonstration can be given in various modes; but the author
has discovered, in the peculiar arrangement of the digestive apparatus
of the rabbit, an unexceptional means of obtaining it with the greatest
precision, and at will. The pancreatic juice enters the intestinal tube
of this animal about fourteen inches below the point where the bile is
poured in. Now, as long as the food is above the region where it mixes
with the pancreatic juice, there appears to be no formation and
separation of a milky chyle; nothing shows that the fatty matters are
reduced to an emulsion. On the contrary, as soon as the pancreatic juice
mixes with the alimentary matters, we observe the fat to be converted
into an emulsion, and a milky chyle to fill the corresponding lacteals.
Nothing can give an idea of the result of these experiments, which have
all the accuracy of a chemical operation performed in the laboratory,
and all the beauty of the most perfect injection.
"We are not, therefore, surprised that divers pathological cases,
hitherto imperfectly understood, should come to confirm the views of M.
Bernard, by proving that, in diseases of the pancreas, fatty matters
have been observed to pass unchanged in the dejections.
"The committee cannot hesitate to conclude that the author has perfectly
demonstrated his physiological propositions; that he has completed the
general characters of the theory of digestion, and that he has made
known the mode of formation of the fatty matter of the chyle, and the
manner of the digestion of the fatty matters."
_The Kidneys._--Their office is, to secrete from the blood the useless
or excrementitious fluids in the form of urine. When the skin is
obstructed, the secretion is augmented, and profuse perspiration lessens
it. From a cavity in the centre of each kidney a canal or tube proceeds,
by which the urine is conveyed into the bladder. These tubes are named
_ureters_. As the ureters enter the bladder, they pass forward, a short
distance between its coats; which effectually prevents the urine from
taking a retrograde course. The urine is expelled by the muscular power
which the bladder possesses of contracting upon its contents.
RESPIRATION AND STRUCTURE OF THE LUNGS.
The organs of respiration are the larynx, the trachea, or windpipe,
bronchia, and the lungs.
The air is expelled from the lungs principally by the action of the
muscles of respiration; and when these relax, the lungs expand by virtue
of their own elasticity. This may be exemplified by means of a sponge,
which may be compressed into a small compass by the hand, but, upon
opening the hand, the sponge returns to its natural size, and all its
cavities become filled with air. The purification of the blood in the
lungs is of vital importance, and indispensably necessary to the due
performance of all the functions; for if they be in a diseased
state,--either tuberculous, or having adhesions to the pleura, their
function will be impaired; the blood will appear black; loaded with
carbon; and the phlebotomizer will have the very best (worst) excuse for
taking away a few quarts with a view of purifying the remainder! The
trachea, or windpipe, after dividing into smaller branches, called
_bronchia_, again subdivides into innumerable other branches, the
extremities of which are composed of an infinite number of small cells,
which, with the ramifications of veins, arteries, nerves, and connecting
membranes, make up the whole mass or substance of the lungs. The
internal surface of the windpipe, bronchia, and air-cells, is lined with
a delicate membrane, highly organized with blood-vessels, &c. The whole
is invested with a thin, transparent membrane--a continuation of that
lining the chest, named _pleura_. It also covers the diaphragm, and, by
a duplication of its folds, forms a separation between the lobes of the
lungs.
CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD.
The blood contains the elements for building up, supplying the waste of,
and nourishing the whole animal economy. On making an examination of the
blood with a microscope, it is found full of little red globules, which
vary in their size and shape in different animals, and are more numerous
in the warm than in the cold-blooded. Probably this arises from the fact
that the latter absorb less oxygen than the former. When blood stands
for a time after being drawn, it separates into two parts. One is called
_serum_, and resembles the white of an egg; the other is the clot, or
crassamentum, and forms the red coagulum, or jelly-like substance. This
is accompanied by whitish tough threads, called _fibrine_.
[Illustration: THE HEART VIEWED EXTERNALLY.
_a_, the left ventricle; _b_, the right ventricle; _c_, _e_, _f_, the
aorta; _g_, _h_, _i_, the carotid and other arteries springing from the
aorta; _k_, the pulmonary artery; _l_, branches of the pulmonary artery
in the lungs; _m_, _m_, the pulmonary veins emptying into the left
auricle; _n_, the right auricle; _o_, the ascending vena cava; _q_, the
descending vena cava; _r_, the left auricle; _s_, the coronary vein and
artery. (See _Circulation of the Blood_, on the opposite page.)]
When blood has been drawn from an animal, and it assumes a cupped or
hollow form, if serum, or buffy coat, remains on its surface, it denotes
an impoverished state; but if the whole, when coagulated, be of one
uniform mass, it indicates a healthy state of that fluid. The blood of a
young animal, provided it be in health, coagulates into a firm mass,
while that of an old or debilitated one is generally less dense, and
more easily separated. The power that propels the blood through the
different blood-vessels is a mechanico-vital power, and is accomplished
through the involuntary contractions and relaxations of the heart; from
certain parts of which arteries arise, in other parts veins terminate.
(See Plate.)
The heart is invested with a strong membranous sac, called
_pericardium_, which adheres to the tendinous centre of the diaphragm,
and to the great vessels at its superior portion. The heart is
lubricated by a serous fluid, secreted within the pericardium, for the
purpose of guarding against friction. When an excess of fluid
accumulates within the sac, it is termed dropsy of the heart. The heart
is divided into four cavities, viz., two auricles, named from their
resemblance to an ear, and two ventricles, (as seen at _a_, _b_,)
forming the body. The left ventricle is smaller than the right, yet its
walls are much thicker and stronger than those of the latter: it is from
this part that the large trunk of the arteries proceed, called the
_great aorta_. The right cavity, or ventricle, is the receptacle for
blood returned by the venous structure after having gone the rounds of
the circulation; the veins terminating, as they approach the heart, in a
single vessel, called _vena cava_, (see plate, _o_, _q_, ascending and
descending portion.) The auricle on the left side of the heart receives
the blood that has been distributed through the lungs for purification.
Where the veins terminate in auricles, there are valves placed, to
prevent the blood from returning. For example, the blood proceeds out of
the heart along the aorta; the valve opens upwards; the blood also
moves upwards, and raises the valve, and passes through; the pressure
from above effectually closes the passage. The valves of the heart are
composed of elastic cartilage, which admits of free motion. They
sometimes, however, become ossified. The heart and its appendages are,
like other parts of the system, subject to various diseases, which are
frequently very little understood, yet often fatal. Now, the blood,
having passed through the veins and vena cava, flows into the right
auricle; and this, when distended, contracts, and forces its contents
into the right ventricle, which, contracting in its turn, propels the
blood into the pulmonary arteries, whose numerous ramifications bring it
in contact with the air-cells of the lungs. It then, being deprived of
its carbon, assumes a crimson color. Having passed through its proper
vessels, it accumulates in the left auricle. This also contracts, and
forces the blood through a valve into the left ventricle. This ventricle
then contracts in its turn, and the blood passes through another valve
into the great aorta, to go the round of the circulation and return in
the manner just described.
Many interesting experiments have been made to estimate the quantity of
blood in an animal. "The weight of a dog," says Mr. Percival, "being
ascertained to be seventy-nine pounds, a puncture was made with the
lancet into the jugular vein, from which the blood was collected. The
vein having ceased to bleed, the carotid artery of the same side was
divided, but no blood came from it; in a few seconds afterwards, the
animal was dead. The weight of the carcass was now found to be
seventy-three and a half pounds; consequently it had sustained a loss of
five and a half pounds--precisely the measure of the blood drawn. It
appears from this experiment, that an animal will lose about one
fifteenth part of its weight of blood before it dies; though a less
quantity may so far debilitate the vital powers, as to be, though less
suddenly, equally fatal. In the human subject, the quantity of blood has
been computed at about one eighth part of the weight of the body; and as
such an opinion has been broached from the results of experiments on
quadrupeds, we may fairly take that to be about the proportion of it in
the horse; so that if we estimate the weight of a horse to be thirteen
hundred and forty-four pounds, the whole quantity of blood will amount
to eighty-four quarts, or one hundred and sixty-eight pounds; of which
about forty-five quarts, or ninety pounds, will commonly flow from the
jugular vein prior to death; though the loss of a much less quantity
will deprive the animal of life."
REMARKS ON BLOOD-LETTING.
The author has been, for several years, engaged in a warfare against the
use of the lancet in the treatment of the various diseases of animals.
When this warfare was first commenced, the prospect was poor indeed. The
lancet was the great anti-phlogistic of the allopathic school; it had
powerful, talented, and uncompromising advocates, who had been
accustomed to resort to it on all occasions, from the early settlement
of America up to that period. The great mass had followed in the
footsteps of their predecessors, supposing them to be infallible. Men
and animals were bled; rivers of blood have been drawn from their
systems; yet they often got well, and men looked upon the lancet as one
of the blessings of the age, when, in fact, it is the greatest curse
that ever afflicted this country: it has produced greater losses to
owners of domestic animals than did ever pestilence or disease. A few
philanthropic practitioners have, from time to time, in other countries,
as well as in this, labored during their life, and on their death-bed,
to convince the world of the destructive tendency of blood-letting in
human practice; but none that we know of ever had the moral courage to
wage a general warfare against the practice in the veterinary
department, until we commenced it. We have met with great success, and
have given the blood-letting gentry who practise it at the present day
("just to please their employers or to make out a case") a partial
quietus: in a few more years, unless they abandon their false theories,
their occupation, notwithstanding their pretensions to cure _secundum
artem_, will, like Othello's, be "gone." But we are not writing for
doctors. Our business is with the farmers--the lords of creation. The
former are mere lords of pukes and purges; they, like the farmers, have
the materials, however, to mould themselves into men of common sense;
but the fact is, they are hide-bound; they want a national sweat, to rid
their systems, especially their upper works, of the theories of Sydenham
and Paracelsus, which have shipwrecked many thousands of the medical
profession. They shut their eyes to the results of medical reform, and
cling, with all their soul, and with all their might, worthy a better
cause, to a system that "always was false."
Lord Byron, like many other learned men, was well acquainted with the
impotency of the healing art, and held the lancet in utter abhorrence:
when beset, day and night, to be bled, the bard, in an angry tone,
exclaimed, "You are, I see, a d----d set of butchers; take away as much
blood as you like." "We seized the opportunity," says Dr. Milligan, "and
drew twenty ounces; yet the relief did not correspond to the hopes we
had formed." On the 17th, the bleeding was twice repeated, dangerous
symptoms still increasing, and on the 19th he expired, just about bled
to death. Washington, a man whose name is dear to every American, died
from the effects of an evil system of medication. He was attacked with
croup: his physician bled him, and gave him calomel and antimony. The
next day, physicians were called in, (to share the responsibility of the
butchery,) and he was subjected to two more copious bleedings: in all he
lost ninety ounces of blood. Which of our readers, at the present day,
would submit to such unwarrantable barbarity? We just said we were not
writing for doctors; yet we find ourselves off the track in thus
administering a small dose, as a sample of "_good and efficient
treatment_."
In reference to the success attending our labors in veterinary reform,
we do not claim the whole credit: much of it is due to the intelligence
of the American farmers, in appreciating the value and importance of a
safer and a more effectual system of medication; such a system as we
advocate. They have witnessed the results attending the practice of
cattle doctors generally, and they have seen the results of our sanative
system of medication, and a great majority in Massachusetts have decided
in favor of the latter. We have demonstrated to the satisfaction of our
patrons, and we are ready and willing to repeat our experiments on
diseased animals for the satisfaction of others, in showing that we can
restore an animal, when suffering under acute attacks of disease, in a
few hours, when, by the popular method, it takes weeks and months, if
indeed they ever recover from the effects of the destructive agents
used.
We are told that "horses and cattle are bled and get well immediately."
This may apply to some cases; but, in very many instances, the animals
are sent for a few weeks to "Dr. Green,"[1] to put them in the same
condition they were at the time of bleeding. But suppose that some
animals do get well after bleeding; is it thus proved that more would
not get well if no blood were drawn from any? A cow may fall down, and,
in so doing, lacerate her muscles, blood-vessels, &c., and lose a large
quantity of blood. She may get well, in spite of the violence and loss
of blood. So we say of blood-letting, if the abstraction of a certain
number of gallons of blood will kill a strong animal, then the
abstraction of a small quantity must injure it proportionately.
There is in the animal economy a power, called the vital principle,
which always operates in favor of health. If the provocation be gentle,
and does not seriously derange the machinery, then this power may
overcome both it and any disease the animal may at the time labor under.
For example, a horse falls down in the street, perhaps laboring under a
temporary congestion of the brain: now, if he were let alone until
nature has restored an equilibrium of the circulating fluid and nervous
action, he would soon get up and proceed on his way, as many thousands
do when a knife or lancet is not to be had. But, unfortunately, people
are too hasty. The moment a beast has fallen, they are bound to have him
on his perpendiculars in double quick time. The teamster cannot wait for
nature; she is "too slow a coach" for him. He tries what virtue there is
in the whip; this failing, he obtains a knife, if one is to be had, and
"_starts the blood_." By this time, nature, about resuming her empire,
causes the horse to show signs of returning animation, and the credit is
awarded to the blood-starter. Animals are often bled when diseased, and
the prominent symptoms that previously marked the character of the
malady disappear, or give place to symptoms of another order, less
evident, and men have supposed that a cure is effected, when, in fact,
they have just sown the seeds of a future disease. We are not bound to
prove, in every case, how an animal gets well after two or three
repeated bleedings. It is enough for us to prove that this operation
always tends to death, which can easily be produced by opening the
carotid artery of an animal.
Permit us, dear reader, at this stage of our article, to observe, that
"confession is good for the soul." We mean to put it in practice. So
here goes. We plead guilty to bleeding, blistering, calomelizing,
narcotizing, antimonializing, a great number of patients of the human
kind. We did it in our verdant days, because it was so scientific and
popular, and because we had been taught to reverence the stereotyped
practice of the allopathists. We have, however, done penance, and sought
forgiveness; and through the aid of a few men, devoted to medical
reform, we have been washed in the regenerating waters flowing through
the vineyard of reason and experience, and now advocate and observe the
self-regulating powers of the laws of life. On the other hand, we are
free from the charge of bleeding or poisoning domestic animals, and can
say, with a clear conscience, that we have never drawn a drop of blood
from a four-footed creature, (except in surgical operations, when it
could not be avoided;) neither will we, under any circumstances, resort
to the lancet; for we are convinced that blood-letting is a powerful
depressor of the vital powers.
Blood is the fuel that keeps the lamp of life burning; if the fuel be
withdrawn, the light is extinguished.
Professor Lobstein says, "So far from blood-letting being beneficial, it
is productive of the most serious consequences--a cruel practice, and a
scourge to humanity. How many thousands are sent by it to an untimely
grave! Without blood there is no heat, no motion in the body."
Dr. Reid says, "If the employment of the lancet was abolished
altogether, it would perhaps save annually a greater number of lives
than pestilence ever destroyed."
The fact of blood-letting having been practised by horse and cattle
doctors from time immemorial is certainly not a clear proof of its
utility, nor is it a sufficient recommendation that it may be practised
with safety. During my professional career, the preconceived theories
have commanded a due share of consideration; and, when weighed in the
scale of uninfluenced experience, they never failed of falling short. If
we grant that any deviation from the healthy state denotes debility of
one or more functions, then whatever has a tendency to debilitate
further cannot restore the animal to health. The following case will
serve to illustrate our position: "A horse was brought to be bled,
merely because he had been accustomed to it at that season of the year.
I did not examine him minutely; but as the groom stated there was
nothing amiss with him, I directed a moderate quantity of blood to be
drawn. About five pints were taken off; and while the operator was
pinning up the wound, the horse fell. He appeared to suffer much pain,
and had considerable difficulty of breathing. In this state he remained
twelve hours, and then died. Judging from the appearances at the post
mortem examination, it is probable that a loss of a moderate quantity of
blood caused a fatal interruption of the functions of the heart."
It is strange that such cases as these do not open men's eyes, and
compel them to acknowledge that there is something wrong in the medical
world. Such cases as these furnish us with unanswerable arguments
against blood-letting; for as the blood, which is the natural stimulus
of, and gives strength to, the organs, is withdrawn, its abstraction
leaves all those organs less capable of self-defence.
Horse and cattle doctors have recommended bleeding when animals have
been fed too liberally, or if their systems abound in morbific matter.
Now, the most sensible course would be, provided the animal had been
overfed, to reduce the quantity of food, or, in other words, remove the
cause. If the secretions are vitiated, or in a morbid state, then
regulate them by the means laid down in this work. For we cannot purify
a well of water by abstracting a few buckets; neither can we purify the
whole mass of blood by taking away a few quarts; for that which is left
will still be impure. If the different parts had between them partitions
impervious to fluids, then there would be some sense in drawing out of
the vessels over-filled; but unfortunately, if you draw from one, you
draw from all the rest.
In every disease wherein bleeding has been used, complete recovery has
been protracted, and the animal manifests the debility by swelled legs
and other unmistakable evidences. In some cases, however, the ill
effects of the loss of blood, unless excessive, are not always
immediately perceived; yet such animals, in after years, are subject to
staggers, and diseases of the lungs, pleura, and peritoneum.
Dr. Beach says, "The blood is properly called the _vital fluid_, and the
life of a person is said to be in the blood.[2] We know that just in
proportion to the loss of this substance are our vigor and strength
taken from us. When taken from the system by accident or the lancet, it
is succeeded by great prostration of strength, and a derangement of all
the functions of the body. These effects are invariably, in a greater
or less degree, consequent on bleeding. Is it not, then, reasonable to
suppose, that what will debilitate the strongest constitution in a state
of health, will be attended with most serious evils when applied to a
person laboring under any malady? Is it not like throwing spirits on a
fire to extinguish it?
"Bleeding is resorted to in all inflammatory complaints; but did
practitioners know the nature and design of inflammation, their
treatment would be different. In fever it is produced by an increased
action of the heart and arteries, to expel acrid and noxious humors, and
should be promoted until the irritating matter is dislodged from the
system. This should be effected, in general, by opening the outlets of
the body, inducing perspiration; to produce which a preternatural degree
of heat or inflammation must be excited by internal remedies. Fever is
nothing more or less than a wholesome and salutary effort of nature to
throw off some morbific matter; and, therefore, every means to lessen
this indication proves injurious. Bleeding, in consequence of the
debility it produces, prevents such indication from being fulfilled."
The inveterate phlebotomizers recommend and practise bleeding when "_the
animal has too much blood_." There may be at times too much blood, and
at others too little; but suppose there is--has any body found out any
better method of reducing what they please to term an excess, than that
of regular exercise in the open air, combined with a less quantity of
fodder than usual? Or has any body found out any method of making good
healthy blood, other than the slow process of nature, as exhibited in
the results of digestion, secretion, circulation, and nutrition? Have
they discovered any artificial means of restoring the blood to its
healthful quantity when it is deficient? Have they found any means of
purifying the blood, save the healthful operations of nature's secreting
and excreting laboratory? Finally, have they found any safety-valve or
outlet for the reduction of this excess other than the excrementitious
vessels? And if they have, are they better able to adjust the pressure
on that valve than He who made the whole machinery, and knows the
relative strength of all its parts? In an article on blood-letting,
found in the Farmer's Cyclopaedia, the author says, "In summer, bleeding
is often necessary to prevent fevers." Now, it is evident that nature's
preventives are air, exercise, food, water, and sleep. Attention to the
rules laid down in this work, under the heads of _Watering_, _Feeding_,
&c., will be more satisfactory and less dangerous than that recommended
by the Cyclopaedia. If the directions given in the latter were fully
carried out, the stock of our farms would be swept away as by the blast
of a tornado. Such a barbarous system would entail universal misery and
degeneracy on all classes of live stock; and we might then exclaim,
"They are living, yet half dead--victims to an inconsistent system of
medication!" But thanks to a discerning public, they just begin to see
the absurdity and wickedness of draining the system of the living
principles. Veterinary reform has germinated in the New England States,
and, in spite of all opposition, has struck its roots deep into the
minds of a class of men who have the means and power to send forth its
healing branches, and apply them to their own interest and the welfare
of their stock.
The same author continues: "Some farmers bleed horses three or four
times a year." We hope the farmers have too much good sense to follow
the wicked example of the former. Frequent bleeding is an indirect mode
of butchery--killing by inches; for it gives to the blood-vessels the
power to contract and adapt themselves to the measure of blood that
remains. It impoverishes the blood, and leads to hydrothorax,
(accumulation of water in the chest,) and materially shortens life.
Mackintosh says, "Some are bled who cannot bear it, and others who do
not require it; and the result is death." The conservative power of life
always operates in favor of health, and resists the encroachments upon
her province with all her might, and often recovers the dominion; but by
frequent bleedings, she is exhausted, and, on taking a little more blood
than usual, the animal drops down and dies; and the owner attributes to
disease what, in fact, is the result of bad treatment.
"Patients who recover after general and copious bleedings have been
employed, may attribute their recovery to the strength of their
constitution.
"If you should ask a modern _Sangrado_ what was most necessary in the
treatment of disease, doubtless he would reply, 'Bleeding.'
"Our modern pathologists, surgeons and others, think bleeding the
_factotum_ in all maladies; it is the _ne plus ultra_, when drawn in
large quantities. Blood-letting, say these authors, is not only the most
powerful and important, but the most generally used, of all our
remedies. Scarcely a case of acute, or, indeed, of chronic, disease
occurs in which it does not become necessary to consider the propriety
of having recourse to the lancet." (??) To what extent blood-letting is
carried, in our modern age, may be learned by reading Youatt and others,
who recommend it "when animals rub themselves, and the hair falls off;
when the eyes appear dull and languid, red or inflamed; in all
inflammatory complaints, as of the brain, lungs, kidneys, bowels, womb,
bladder, and joints; in all bruises, hurts, wounds, and all other
accidents; in cold, catarrh, paralysis, and locked-jaw." Yet, strange to
say, one of these authors qualifies his recommendations as follows: "No
man, however wise, can tell exactly how much blood ought to be taken in
a given case." Now, it is well known that the draining of blood from a
vein, though it diminishes the vital resistance, and lessens the volume
of fluids, does not mend the matter; for it thus gives to cold and
atmospheric agents the ascendant influence. A collapse takes place, the
secretions become impaired, the animal refuses its food, "looks
dumpish," &c.
We might continue this article to an indefinite length; but as we shall,
in the following pages, have occasion to refer to the use of the lancet
as a destructive agent, we conclude it with the following remarks of an
English physician: "Our most valuable remedies against inflammation are
but ill adapted for curing that state of disease. They do not act
directly on the diseased part; the action is only indirect; therefore it
is imperfect. Bleeding, the best of any of these remedies, is in this
predicament."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] A piece of pasture land.
[2] Then the life of an animal is also in the blood; and the same evil
consequences follow its abstraction.
EFFORTS OF NATURE TO REMOVE DISEASE.
"Nature is ever busy, by the silent operations of her own forces,
in curing disease."--_Dixon._
Whenever any irritating substance comes in contact with sensitive
surfaces, nature, or the _vis medicatrix naturae_, goes immediately to
work to remove the offending cause: for example, should any substance
lodge on the mucous surface, within the nostril, although it be
imperceptible, as often happens when the hay is musty, it abounds in
particles whose specific gravity enables them to float in atmospheric
air; they are then inhaled in the act of respiration, and nature, in
order to wash off the offending matter, sends a quantity of fluid to the
part. The same process may be observed when a small piece of hay, or
other foreign matter, shall have fallen into the eye: the tears then
flow in great abundance, to prevent that delicate organ being injured.
"When a blister is applied to the surface, it first excites a genial
warmth, with inflammation of the skin; and nature, distressed, goes
instantly to work, separates the cuticle to form a bag, interposes serum
between the nerves and the offensive matter, then prepares another
cuticle, that, when the former, with the adhering substance, shall fall
off, the nervous papillae may be again provided with a covering.
"The same reasoning will apply to the operation of emetics and
cathartics; for not only is the peristaltic motion either greatly
quickened or inverted, according to the urgency of the distress, but
both the mucous glands and the exhalent arteries pour forth their fluids
in abundance to wash away the offending matter, which at one time acts
chemically, at others mechanically."
If a horse, or an ox, be wounded in the foot with a nail, and a portion
of it is broken off and remains in the wound, inflammation sets in,
producing suppuration, and the nail is discharged.
A few days ago, we were called to see a horse, said to have swelling on
the _tarsus_, (hock.) On an examination, it proved to be an abscess,
well developed; the matter could be distinctly felt at the most
prominent part. We should certainly have been justified (at least in the
eyes of the medical world; and then it would have looked so
"doctor-like"!) in displaying a case of instruments and opening the
tumor. If ulceration, gangrene, &c., set in and the horse ultimately
became lame, no blame could be attached to us, because the practice is
_scientific_!--recognized by the schools as good and efficient
treatment. What was to be done? Why, it was evident that we could not do
better than to aid nature. A relaxing, anti-spasmodic poultice was
confined to the parts, and in six hours after, the sac discharged its
contents, and with it a piece of splinter two inches in length. The pain
immediately ceased, and the animal is now free from lameness. We here
see the design of nature: the consequent inflammation was to produce
suppuration, and make an outlet for the splinter.
Professor Kost says, "The laws of all organic life are remarkably
peculiar; they possess, in an eminent degree, the power of
self-regulation. When interrupted, disease, indeed, supervenes; but
unless the circumstances are particularly unfavorable, the physiological
state will soon be restored. All observation most clearly corroborates
this fact. The healing of wounds, restoration of fractured bones,
expulsion of obtruded substances, and particularly the manner in which
extravasated matter or pus is removed from internal organs, as in case
of abscess in the liver, in which exit may be gained by ulceration
through the parietes, or by an adhesion to and ulceration into the
intestines, or even by the adhesions to the diaphragm and lungs, in such
a manner as, by ulceration into the bronchia, a passage may be gained,
and the pus thus removed by expectoration,--all evince a most singular
conservative power. What is most remarkable in cases like the latter,
is, that the adhesions are so formed as to prevent the escape of the pus
into the peritoneal sac, which accident must inevitably prove fatal.
"Some very interesting experiments have been performed to test the
restorative power of the different tissues of the animal body. If a
portion of the intestines of a dog be taken out, and tied, so as to
obstruct completely the passage, it will be found that the adjacent
portions of the intestine will reunite, the ligature will separate into
the canal and be discharged, and the gut will heal up so as to preserve
its normal continuity, and the animal, in a fortnight, will have
recovered entirely from the effects of this fearful operation.
"When noxious or poisonous substances are thrown into any of the
cavities of the body from which their escape is impracticable, a cyst
will often form around them, and they thus become isolated from
absorption and the circulation, so as to prevent their doing harm.
"The less remarkable instances of this character are of more common
occurrence; and the self-regulating power of the laws of life, alias
_vis conservatrix naturae_, is so universally known and depended on, that
it is rare, indeed, that indisposed persons take medicine, until they
have first waited at least a little, to see what nature would do for
them; and they are seldom disappointed, as it may perhaps be safely
asserted, that nine tenths of all the attacks of disease (taking the
slight indispositions; for such are most of them, as they are checked
before they become severe) are warded off by the vital force,
unassisted. Such, then, are the facts deduced from observing the
operations of nature in disease _unassisted_."
Dr. Beach says, "We are well aware, from what passes in the system
daily, that the Author of nature has wisely provided a principle which
is calculated to remove disease. It is very observable in fevers. No
sooner is noxious or morbid matter retained in the system, than there is
an increased action of the heart and arteries, to eliminate the existing
cause from the skin; or it may pass off by other outlets established
for that purpose. With what propriety, then, can this provision of
nature be denied, as it is by some? A noted professor in Philadelphia or
Baltimore ridicules this power in the constitution; he says to his
class, 'Kick nature out of doors.' It was this man, or a brother
professor, who exclaimed to his class, 'Give me mercury in one hand and
the lancet in the other, and I am prepared to cope with disease in every
shape and form.' I have not time to stop here, and comment upon such
palpable and dangerous doctrine. I have only to say, let the medical
historian record this sentiment, maintained in the highest medical
universities in America in the nineteenth century. I am pleased,
however, to observe, that all physicians do not coincide with such
views."
PROVERBS OF THE VETERINARY REFORMERS.
The merciful man is merciful to his domestic animals.
"Avoid blood-letting and poisons, for they are powerful depressors of
the vital energies. There are two medical _fulcra_--reason and
experience. Experience precedes, reason follows; hence, reasoning not
founded on experience avails nothing. He who cures by simples need not
seek for compounds."--_Villanov._
"The physician _destitute of a knowledge of plants_ can never properly
judge of the power of a plant."--_Whitlaw._
"The vegetable kingdom is the most noble in medicines."--_Ibid._
"Innocent medicines, which approach as near to food as possible,
preserve health, while chemical compounds destroy it. Heroic medicines
(such are antimony, copper, corrosive sublimate, lead, opium, hellebore,
arsenic, belladonna) are like the sword in the hands of a madman.
"Nature unassisted by art sometimes effects miracles."--_Whitlaw._
"It is the part of a wise physician to decline prescribing in a lost
case."--_Ibid._ Whenever there is free, full circulation of blood, there
is animal heat. If the heat of a part becomes deficient, the circulation
is correspondingly diminished. As soon as voluntary motion in a part
ceases, so soon the circulation becomes enfeebled; and if continued, the
part will wither and waste away.
The strength and health of an animal depend on a due share of exercise,
pure air, and suitable food. Deprive an animal of these, and he will
cease to exist. We believe in the great doctrine that the duty of the
physician is to aid nature in protecting herself in the enjoyment of
health, by proper attention to breeding, rearing, ventilation, and
proper farm and stable management.
"The tinsel glitter of fine-spun theory, or favorite hypothesis, which
prevails wherever allopathy hath been taught, so dazzles, flatters, and
charms human vanity and folly, that, so far from contributing to the
certain and speedy cure of diseases, it hath, in every age, proved the
bane and disgrace of healing art."--_Graham_, p. 15.
"Those physicians generally become the most distinguished who soonest
emancipate themselves from the tyranny of the schools of
physic."--RUSH.
"Availing ourselves of the privileges we possess, and animated by the
noblest impulses, let us cordially cooeperate to give to medicine a new
direction, and attempt those great improvements which it imperiously
demands."--_Ther._, vol. i. p. 51.
"It has been proved by allopathists themselves, that 'a physician should
be nature's servant;' that 'bleeding tends directly to subdue nature's
efforts;' that 'all poisons suddenly and rapidly destroy a great
proportion of the vitality of the system;' that whatever be the
quantity, use, or manner of application, all the influence they
inherently possess is injurious, and that they are not fatal in every
instance of their use only because nature overpowers them."--_Curtis._
AN INQUIRY CONCERNING THE SOULS OF BRUTES.
"Are these then made in vain? Is man alone,
Of all the marvels of creative love,
Blest with a scintillation of His essence--
The heavenly spark of reasonable soul?
And hath not yon sagacious dog, that finds
A meaning in the shepherd's idiot face;
Or the huge elephant, that lends his strength
To drag the stranded galley to the shore,
And strives with emulative pride t' excel
The mindless crowd of slaves that toil beside him;
Or the young generous war-horse, when he sniffs
The distant field of blood, and quick and shrill
Neighing for joy, instils a desperate courage
Into the veteran trooper's quailing heart,--
Have they not all an evidence of soul,
(Of soul, the proper attribute of man,)
The same in kind, though meaner in degree?
Why should not that which hath been--be forever?
And death, O, can it be annihilation?
No,--though the stolid atheist fondly clings
To that last hope, how kindred to despair!
No,--'tis the struggling spirit's hour of joy,
The glad emancipation of the soul,
The moment when the cumbrous fetters drop,
And the bright spirit wings its way to heaven!
"To say that God annihilated aught,
Were to declare that in an unwise hour
He planned and made somewhat superfluous.
Why should not the mysterious life that dwells
In reptiles as in man, and shows itself
In memory, gratitude, love, hate, and pride,
Still energize, and be, though death may crush
Yon frugal ant or thoughtless butterfly,
Or, with the simoom's pestilential gale
Strike down the patient camel in the desert?
"There is one chain of intellectual soul,
In many links and various grades, throughout
The scale of nature; from the climax bright,
The first great Cause of all, Spirit supreme,
Incomprehensible, and unconfined,
To high archangels blazing near the throne,
Seraphim, cherubim, virtues, aids, and powers,
All capable of perfection in their kind;--
To man, as holy from his Maker's hand
He stood in possible excellence complete,
(Man, who is destined now to brighter glories,--
As nearer to the present God, in One
His Lord and Substitute,--than angels reach;)
Then man has fallen, with every varied shade
Of character and capability,
From him who reads his title to the skies,
Or grasps, with giant-mind, all nature's wonders,
Down to the monster-shaped, inhuman form,
Murderer, slavering fool, or blood-stained savage;
Then to the prudent elephant, the dog
Half-humanized, the docile Arab horse,
The social beaver, and contriving fox,
The parrot, quick in pertinent reply,
The kind-affectioned seal, and patriot bee,
The merchant-storing ant, and wintering swallow,
With all those other palpable emanations
And energies of one Eternal Mind
Pervading and instructing all that live,
Down to the sentient grass and shrinking clay.
In truth, I see not why the breath of life,
Thus omnipresent, and upholding all,
Should not return to Him and be immortal,
(I dare not say the same,) in some glad state
Originally destined for creation,
As well from brutish bodies, as from man.
The uncertain glimmer of analogy
Suggests the thought, and reason's shrewder guess;
Yet revelation whispers nought but this,--
'Our Father careth when a sparrow dies,'
And that 'the spirit of a brute descends,'
As to some secret and preserving Hades.
"But for some better life, in what strange sort
Were justice, mixed with mercy, dealt to these?
Innocent slaves of sordid, guilty man,
Poor unthanked drudges, toiling to his will,
Pampered in youth, and haply starved in age,
Obedient, faithful, gentle, though the spur,
Wantonly cruel, or unsparing thong,
Weal your galled hides, or your strained sinews crack
Beneath the crushing load,--what recompense
Can He who gave you being render you,
If in the rank, full harvest of your griefs
Ye sink annihilated, to the shame
Of government unequal?--In that day
When crime is sentenced, shall the cruel heart
Boast uncondemned, because no tortured brute
Stands there accusing? Shall the embodied deeds
Of man not follow him, nor the rescued fly
Bear its kind witness to the saving hand?
Shall the mild Brahmin stand in equal sin
Regarding nature's menials, with the wretch
Who flays the moaning Abyssinian ox,
Or roasts the living bird, or flogs to death
The famishing pointer?--and must these again,
These poor, unguilty, uncomplaining victims,
Have no reward for life with its sharp pains?--
They have my suffrage: Nineveh was spared,
Though Jonah prophesied its doom, for sake
Of sixscore thousand infants, and 'much cattle;'
And space is wide enough for every grain
Of the broad sands that curb our swelling seas,
Each separate in its sphere to stand apart
As far as sun from sun; there lacks not room,
Nor time, nor care, where all is infinite."--_Tupper._
THE REFORMED PRACTICE.
SYNOPTICAL VIEW OF THE PROMINENT SYSTEMS OF MEDICINE.
Some of our readers, especially the non-medical, may desire to know what
the following remarks, which appear to apply generally to the human
family, have to do with cattle doctoring. We answer them in the language
of Professor Percival. "The object of the veterinary art is not only
congenial with human medicine, but the very same paths which lead to a
knowledge of the diseases of man, lead also to a knowledge of those of
brutes. An accurate examination of the interior parts of their bodies; a
studious survey of the arrangement, structure, use, connection, and
relation of these parts, and of the laws by which they act; as also of
the nature and properties of the various food and other agents which the
earth so liberally provides for their support and cure,--these form, in
a great measure, the sound and sure foundation of all medical science,
whatever living individual animal be the subject of our consideration.
Whether we prescribe for a man, horse, dog, or cat, the laws of the
animal economy are the same; and one system, and that based upon
established facts, is to guide our practice in all.
"The theory of medicine in the human subject is the theory of medicine
in the brute; it is the application of that theory--the practice
alone--that is different.
"We might as well, in reference to the principles of each, attempt to
separate surgery from medicine, as insist that either of these arts, in
theory, is essentially different from the veterinary: every day's
experience serves to confirm this our belief, and in showing us how
often the diseases of animals arise from the same causes as those of a
man, exhibit the same indications, and require a similar method of cure.
"The science of medicine, like others, consists of a collection of facts
of a common and not a specific character. These, therefore, admit of
arrangement into different systems, according to the notions of
theorists, and the various species of philosophy, brought to bear on the
subject.
"The first regular system was founded by Hippocrates, about three
hundred and eighty years before Christ. It was founded upon _theory_,
and comprised the doctrines of the ancient dogmatic school. Its
pathology rested upon a supposed change of the humors of the body,
particularly the blood and bile; and here are the first elements of the
'_humoral pathology_.' Its remedial intentions were founded upon the
existence of the _'vis conservatrix' et 'medicatrix naturae;'_ and,
although often maintaining direct antipathic principles of action, it
rested mainly on physo-dynamic influence for the accomplishment of its
therapeutic purposes.
"About two hundred and ninety years before Christ, Philinus of Cos
introduced the ancient _Empiric System_, which was founded upon
_experience_ and _observation_. About one hundred years before the
Christian era, the _Methodic System_ was introduced by Asclepiades of
Bithynia. This system was got up with an avowed opposition to that of
Hippocrates, which was called 'a study of death.' Themison of Laodicea,
pupil of Asclepiades, gives an exposition of the fundamental principles
of the methodic system; and it seems that all physiological and
pathological action was considered to be dependent upon the _strictum_
and _laxum_ of the organic pores, or increased and decreased secretion,
and that all medicines act only on two principles, _i. e._, by inducing
contraction and relaxation, or an increase and decrease of the
secretions.
"It would seem that, in the first century of the Christian era, the
methodic system was divided into various subordinate ones--the
_Pneumatic_, _Episynthetic_, and _Eclectic_. The pneumatic system, which
was the most popular of the fragments of the methodic, was most indebted
to Athenaeus of Attalia for its successful introduction. This system
contemplated the doctrine of the Stoics, which recognized the existence
of a spirit governing and directing every thing, and which, when
offended, would produce disease; hence the name _pneumatic_. The
indications of cure were more _moral_ than _physical_. Fire, air, water,
&c., were not considered elements, but their properties--heat, cold,
dryness, moisture, &c.--were alone entitled to the name.
"In the second century, the _Galenic System_ was founded by Claudius
Galenus. This might, indeed, only be considered the revival of the
dogmatic or Hippocratean system. Galen professed to have selected what
he found valuable from all the prevailing systems, and has embraced the
elements and ruling spirit of the pneumatic school. Thus he explained
the operation of medicines by reference to their elementary
qualities,--that is, heat, cold, dryness, and moisture,--of each of
which he admitted four degrees. But he was governed by a prevailing
partiality for the system of Hippocrates, which, he states, was either
misunderstood or misrepresented by all theorists, ever since the
establishment of the empiric and methodic schools. He devoted most of
his time to commenting upon and embellishing it, and thus again
established a system, founded on reason, observation, and sound
induction, which maintained its character, without a rival, for more
than one thousand five hundred years.
"Near the middle of the sixteenth century, Paracelsus introduced the
_Chemical System_. This was strongly opposed by Bellonius and Riverius,
who maintained the doctrine of Hippocrates and Galen. But the
presumptuous Paracelsus burned, 'in solemn state,' the works of the
ancients; and being succeeded by the indefatigable Van Helmont, the
whole science of medicine was overwhelmed by the mysticism of the
alchemical doctrines and languages. The chemical theory, in the main,
rejects the influence, or even the existence, of the _vis medicatrix
naturae_, and explains all physiological, pathological, and therapeutic
operations upon abstract chemical laws. Thus chemical or inorganic
agents, and many of the most virulent poisons, as arsenic, mercury,
antimony, &c., were placed among the most prominent remedies.
"Soon after the introduction of the chemical system, medical science, if
we make one exception, became less eccentric, but much less marked for
the permanency of its systems. Boerhaave ingeniously blended most of the
prominent doctrines of the Galenic and chemical systems; and by an
application of several of the newly-developed natural sciences,
especially mathematics and natural philosophy, he led his successors
into a more even path and fixed method of investigation; for no more do
we find any abstract physical laws the sole basis of a system. But these
were the highest honors allowed Boerhaave; his particular system was
soon subverted by Stahl, who proved the supreme superintendence of an
immaterial, vital principle, corresponding to that pointed out by
Hippocrates. To this he ascribes intelligence, if not moral attributes.
Hoffman led Cullen into the path that brought him into the fruitful
field of _nervous pathology_ and solidism, which, with a modification of
Stahl's ruling _immaterial essence_, formed the groundwork of his
admired system.
"If, now, we except the eccentricities of Brown, comprising his system,
founded on the _sthenic_ and _asthenic_ diathesis, we find little
interruption to the general prevalence of the Cullenian system, till
nearly the present juncture. The succeeding authors, colleges, and
medical societies have only modified and amplified the general theory,
and regulated the practice into a comparative uniformity, which now
constitutes the popular _Allopathic System_. But notwithstanding the
comparatively settled state of medical science, it could not be supposed
that in this remarkable age of improvement, while all other liberal
sciences and arts are progressing as if prosecuted by superhuman agency,
medicine should fail to undergo corresponding improvement.
"Several new systems of medicine date themselves within the last forty
years, viz.: 1. The _Homaeopathic_, introduced by Hahnemann, and founded
upon the principle, _similia similibus curantur_. 2. The _Botanic_,
established by a new class of medical philosophers, within the last
twenty years. 3. The _Eclectic_, corresponding, in its essential
doctrines, with the ancient eclectic system."
CREED OF THE REFORMERS.
We believe that a perfect system of medical science is that which never
allows disease to exist at all; which prevents disease, instead of
curing it, by means of a perfect hygienic system, proper modes of life,
attention to diet, ventilation, and exercise.
We believe that the next best system is that which, after disease has
made its appearance, promptly meets its development by the use of such
agencies as are perfectly in harmony with the laws of life and health,
and physiological in their action; such, for example, as water, air,
heat and cold, friction, food, drink, and medicines that are not usually
regarded as poisons, and are known to prove congenial to the animal
constitution.
We have no attachment to any remedy which experience shows unsafe; but,
on the contrary, we rejoice in the success of every attempt to
substitute sanative for disease-creating agents, and believe that a
number of the articles which are still occasionally used in the old
school, will in time become obsolete, as medical science progresses.
We hold that our opposition to any course of medical treatment should be
in proportion to the mischief it produces, entirely irrespective of
medical theories. Hence our hostility to the lancet.
We do not profess to know more about anatomy, physiology, surgery, &c.,
than our allopathic brethren; but the superiority which our system
claims over others is, in the main, to be found in our therapeutic
agents, all of which are harmless, safe, and efficient. While they
arouse the energies of nature to resist the ravages of disease, they act
harmoniously with the vital principle, in the restoration of the system
from a pathological to the physiological state.
TRUE PRINCIPLES.
"Our objection to the old school," says Professor Curtis, "has ever
been, that they not only have no true principles to guide their
practice, but they have adopted, fixed, and obstinately adhered to
principles the very reverse of the true. They have resolved that, in
disease, nature turns a somerset--reverses all her normal laws, and
requires them to do the same. They have decreed that the best means and
processes to cure the sick are those which will most speedily kill them
when in health. In the face of all reason and common sense, they have
adhered to this doctrine and practice for the last three centuries, and
they have been constrained to confess that the destruction they have
produced on human life and health has far exceeded all that has been
effected by the sword, pestilence, and famine. Still they obstinately
persevere. They say their science is progressive--improving; yet its
progression consists in contriving new ways and means to take part of
the life's blood, and poison all the balance.
"Medicine, being based on the laws of nature, is in itself an exact
science; and every process of the act should be directed by those laws.
"Medicine is a demonstrative science, and all its processes should be
based on fixed laws, and be governed by positive inductions. Then, and
not till then, will it deserve to be ranked among the exact sciences,
and contemplated as a liberal art.
"Truth is stationary; it never progresses. What was true in principle in
the days of Adam is so still. To talk of progress in principle is
ridiculous. Neither does a given practice progress. That which was ever
intrinsically good is so still. To talk, then, of the progress in
principles of medicine is absurd. We may learn the truth or error of
principles, and the comparative value or worthlessness of practices; but
the principles are still the same. This is our progress in knowledge,
not the progress of science or art. The constant changes that have taken
place in the adoption and rejection of various principles and practices
have ever been an injury to the healing art. Both truth and falsehood,
separately and combined, have been alternately received and rejected;
and this is that progress which is made in a circle, and not in lines
direct. The fault of the cultivators of medicine has been, not that they
never discovered the truth nor adopted the right practice, but that they
adopted wrong principles and practices as often as the right, and
rejected the right as readily as the wrong. They have ever been ready to
prove many, if not all things; but to cast off the bad and hold fast to
the good, they seem to have had but little discrimination and power.
They say truly, that the object of the healing art is to aid nature in
the prevention and cure of her diseases; yet, in practice, they do
violence to nature in the use of the lancet and poison."
We are told by the professors of allopathy that their medicines
constitute a class of deadly poisons, (see "Pocket Pharmacopoeia;")
"that, when given with a scientific hand, in small doses, they cure
disease." We deny their power to cure. If antimony, corrosive sublimate,
&c., ever proved destructive, they always possess that power, and can
never be used with any degree of assurance that they will make a sick
animal well. On the other hand, we have abundant every-day evidence of
their ability to make a well animal sick at any time. What difference
does it make whether poisons are given with a scientific or an
unscientific hand? Does it alter the tendency which all poisons possess,
namely, that of rapidly depriving the system of vitality?
The veterinary science was ushered into existence by men who practised
according to the doctrines of the theoretical schools. We may trace it
in its infancy when, in England, in the year 1788, it was rocked in the
cradle of allopathy by Sainbel, its texture varying to suit the skill of
Clark, Lawrence, Field, Blaine, and Coleman; yet with all their amount
of talent and wisdom, their pupils must acknowledge that the melancholy
triumph of disease over its victims clearly evinces that their combined
stock of knowledge is insufficient to perfect the veterinary science.
Dr. J. Bell says, "Anatomy is the basis of medical skill;" yet, in
another part of his work he says, "It enables the physician to
GUESS _at the seat, or causes, or consequences of disease_!"
This is what we propose hereafter to call the science--the science of
guessing! If such is the immense mortality in England, (amounting, as
Mr. Youatt states, in loss of cattle, alone, to $50,000,000,)--a country
that boasts of her veterinary institutions, and embraces within her
medical halo some of the brightest luminaries of the present
century,--what, we ask, is the mortality in the United States, where the
veterinary science scarcely has an existence, and where not one man in a
hundred can tell a disease of the bowels from one of the lungs?
Profiting by the experience of these men, we are in hopes to build up a
system of practice that will stand a tower of strength amid the rude
shock of medical theories. We have discovered that the lancet is a
powerful depressor of vitality, and that poisons derange, instead of
producing, healthy action. That they are generally resorted to in this
country, no one will deny, and often by men who are unacquainted with
the nature of the destructive agents they making use of.
Hence our business, as reformers, is to expose error, and disseminate
true principles. In doing so, we must be guided by the light of reason,
and interpret aright the doctrines of nature as they are written by the
Creator on the tablets of the whole universe, animate and inanimate.
In our reformed practice, we have true principles to guide us, which no
man can controvert; for they are based on the recognition of a curative
power in nature, identical with the vital principle, and governed by the
same laws that control its action in the healthy state. While,
therefore, this system must not change, it may improve; and while it
remains on the same foundation, it should progress.
The necessity of aiding nature, in all our modes of medication, is the
only true principle which should guide us. This we do by the aid of
medicines known to be harmless, at the same time paying proper attention
to diet, ventilation, exercise, &c., rejecting all processes of cure
that depress the vital energy, or destroy the equilibrium of its action.
Our reformed principles teach us that, "Fever is the same in its
essential character, under all circumstances and forms which it
exhibits. The different kinds, as they are called, are but varieties of
the same condition, produced by variations in the prevailing cause, or
the strength of vital resistance, or some other peculiarity of the
patient. Facts in abundance might be stated to justify this position.
Again, fever is not to be regarded as disease, but as a sanative effort;
in other words, as an increased or excited state of vital action, whose
tendency is to remove from the system any agents or causes that would
effect its integrity. Or, perhaps, it might be more properly said, that
fever is the effect, or symptom, of accumulated vital action--an index
pointing to the progress of causes, operating to ward off disease and
restore health.
"Our indications of cure and modes of treatment are to be learned from
those manifestations of the vital operations uniformly witnessed in the
febrile state. If fever marks the action of the healing power of nature,
which we must copy to be successful, why should we not consult the
febrile phenomena for our rule of action? Now, what are the indications
of cure which we derive from this source? In other words, what are the
results which nature designs to accomplish through the instrumentality
of fever? They are, an equilibrium of the circulation, a
properly-proportioned action of all the organs, and an increased
depuration of the system, principally by cutaneous evacuations."
Suppose the resistance of some local obstruction, as, for example, an
accumulation of partly digested food in the manyplus of the ox, and, for
want of a due portion of the gastric fluids to soften the mass and
prevent friction, it irritates the mucous covering of the laminae. The
result is inflammation, (local fever,) then general excitement,
manifested in an increased state of the circulation generally. The
consequences of this general excitement of the mass of the circulation
are, a more equal distribution of the blood, and the stimulation of
every organ to do a part, according to its capacity, in removing
disease. In such cases, the cattle doctors, generally, suppose that the
inflammation is confined to the part, (manyplus;) yet it is evident that
nature has marshalled her forces and produced a like action on the
external surface. How can we prove that this is the case? By the heat,
and red surfaces of the membrane lining the nostril, by the accelerated
pulse, thirst, &c. Without heat there is no vitality in the system. Now,
if the surface be hot, it proves that a large quantity of blood is sent
there for the purpose of relieving the deranged internal organ. Hence
the reader will perceive, that the cattle doctor whose creed is, "The
more fever, the more blood-letting," must be one of the greatest
opponents nature has to deal with. Then it is no wonder that so many
cattle, sheep, and oxen die of fever. The practice of purging, in such a
case, would be almost as destructive as the former; for many articles
used as purges act on the mucous surfaces of the alimentary canal as
mechanical irritants. Nature would, in this case, have to recall her
forces from the surface, and concentrate them in the vicinity of parts
where they were not wanted, had not man's interference conflicted with
her well-planned arrangement, and made her "turn a somerset." When the
increased action and heat are manifested on the surface, does it not
prove that the different organs are acting harmoniously in self-defence?
And is not this action manifested through the same channels in a state
of health? Then why call it _disease_?
If obstructions exist as the cause of fever, will the mode of evacuation
be different from that of health? Certainly not. Hence the marked
tendency of fever to evacuation by the skin or the bowels; the former by
perspiration, and the latter by diarrhoea. Fever, then, is a vital
action, and the reformers have correct principles. On the other hand,
the allopathists tell us that they know very little about fever, but
that it is disease, and they treat it as such; hence, then, five, ten,
and fourteen days' fever, and often the death of the patient.
Our treatment is not directed with a view of combating the fever: we
generally aid it by following the indications which it presents; and we
often find it necessary, although the surface of the animal shall be
hot, and feverish symptoms appear, to use stimulants, (not alcoholic,)
combined with antispasmodics and relaxants. (See _Stimulants_, in the
APPENDIX.) This class of medicines, aided by warmth and
moisture, favors the cutaneous exhalation, and promotes the free and
full play of all the functions.
That the allopathist has but few principles to guide him is evident from
the following quotations:--
Veterinary surgeon Haycock says, "The profession may flatter itself that
it is advancing: for my part, however, I see little or no advancement.
Our labors, for the last ten years, have been little more than a
repetition of what has gone before. Our books are things of shreds and
patches; the system which is followed in the investigation of disease,
in the treatment of disease, and in the reporting of it, is altogether
so crude and barbarous, that I am thoroughly ashamed of the whole
matter.
"I have heard much noise about a _charter_, [which, we presume, means a
charter by which men may be licensed to kill _secundum artem_, and '_no
questions_ ASKED,'] the clamor of which may be compared to the
rattling of peas in a dried bladder, or to a storm in a horse-pond. I
have also read much which has been said about the _spirit_ of this
charter. Until I am convinced that it is the best term which can be
applied to it, verily the whole is a spirit; for no one, I am persuaded,
has ever yet discovered the substance.[3] It is not charters that we
want, _but it is that quiet spirit of earnestness which characterizes
the true laborer on science_. We require men who will labor for the
advancement of the profession from the pure love of the thing; we want,
in fact, a few John Fields, or men who know how to work, and who are
possessed of the will to do it."
We hear a great deal said about sending young men from this country to
Europe to acquire the principles of the veterinary art, with a view to
public teaching. Now, it appears to us that the United States can boast
of as great a number of talented physicians, as well qualified to soon
learn and understand the fundamental principles of the veterinary art,
as their brethren of the old world. There is no country, probably, that
can boast of such an amount of talent, in every department of
literature and art, in proportion to the population, as the United
States. We know that the veterinary art, with one exception, had its
existence from human practitioners, received their fostering care and
attention, and grew with their growth. Have we not the materials, then,
in this country, to educate and qualify young men to practise this
important branch of science? Most certainly. Just send a few to us, for
example, and if we do not impart to them a better system of medication
than that practised in Europe, by which they will be enabled to treat
disease with more success and less deaths, then we will agree to "throw
physic to the dogs," and abandon our profession.
The greatest part of the most valuable time of the students of
veterinary medicine is devoted to the study of pathology, in such a
manner as to afford little instruction. For example, we are told that in
"Bright's" disease of the kidneys they have detected albumen. What does
this amount to? Does it throw any rational light on the treatment other
than that proposed by us, of toning up the animal, and restoring the
healthy secretions? They have studied pathology to their hearts'
content; yet any intelligent farmer in this country, with a few simple
herbs, can beat them at curing disease. We would give details, were it
necessary. Suffice it to say, that it is done here every day, and often
through the aid of a little thoroughwort tea, or other harmless agent.
The pathologist may discover alterations in tissues, in the blood, and
the various organs, and tell us that herein lie the cause and seat of
disease; yet these changes themselves are but results, and preceding
these were other manifestations of disorder; therefore pathology must
always be imperfect, because it is a science of consequences.
The most powerful microscopes have been used to discover the seat of
disease; yet this has not taught us to cure one single disease hitherto
incurable.
The old school boast that their whole system of blood-letting, purging,
and poisoning is based on _enlightened experience_! yet their victims
have often discovered, by dear-bought "experience," (_many of whom are
now doing penance with ulcerated gums, rotten teeth, and foetid breath_,)
that, however valuable this "experience" may be to the M. D.'s, they,
the recipients, have not derived that benefit which they were led to
expect would accrue to them. From what has already been written in this
work, the reader, provided he divests himself of all prejudice, will
perceive that allopathic experience is not to be trusted, for their
principles are false; hence their experience is also false. Professor
Curtis, to whom we are indebted for much valuable information, says, "Do
not the old school argue that the most destructive agents in nature may
be made to '_aid the vital forces in the removal of disease_ by the
judicious application of them'? Does not Professor Harrison say, that
the lancet is the great anti-inflammatory agent of the _materia medica_,
that opium is the _magnum Dei donum_ (the great gift of God) for the
relief of pain, and that mercury is the great regulator of all the
secretions?"
Anatomy and physiology are now being taught in our public schools. The
people will, ere long, constitute themselves umpires to decide when
doctors disagree. We apprehend it will then be hard work to convince the
intelligent and thinking part of the community that poisons and the
lancet are sanative agents.
FOOTNOTE:
[3] Mr. White says, "According to the present system of teaching in
these chartered institutions, there is very little benefit to be derived
by the student."
Mr. Blane experienced in his own person the results of this imperfect
system of teaching. He was sent for to fire a valuable horse, and gives
the following account of it: "It was my first essay in firing on my own
account, and _fired_ as I was with my wishes to signalize myself, I
labored to enter my novitiate with all due honor. The farrier of the
village was ordered to attend, a sturdy old man, civil enough, but
looking as though impressed with no very high respect for a _gentleman
farrier's knowledge_. The horse was cast, awkwardly enough, and secured,
as will appear, even more so. I, however, proceeded to show the
superiority of the new over the old schools. I had just then left the
veterinary college, not as a pupil, but as a teacher, which I only
mention to mark the climax. On the very first application of the iron,
up started my patient, flinging me and my assistants in all directions
from him, while he trotted and snorted round the yard with rope, &c. at
his heels. As may be supposed, I was taken aback, and might have gone
back as I came, had not the old farrier, with much good humor, caught
the horse round the neck with his arms, and by some dexterous manoeuvre
brought him on his knees; when, with a jerk, as quick as unexpected, he
threw him at once on his side, when our immediate assistants fixed him,
and we proceeded. It is needless to remark that I retired mortified, and
left the village farrier lord of the ascendant."
"It cannot be doubted that the best operators in this case are always
the common country farriers, who, from devoting themselves entirely to
the occupation, soon become proficient."
This admission on the part of a regular graduate of a veterinary
institution of London shows that the veterinary science, as taught at
the present day, is a matter for reproach. The melancholy triumph of
disease over its victims shows that the science is mere moonshine; that,
in regard to its most important object, the _cure of disease_, it is
mere speculation, rich in theory, but poverty-stricken in its results.
Hence we have not only proof that the American people will be immense
gainers by availing themselves of the labors of reforms, but, as
interested individuals, they have great encouragement to favor our more
rational system of treatment. (For additional remarks on this subject,
see the author's work on the Horse, p. 105.)
INFLAMMATION.
Inflammation has generally been considered the great bugbear of the old
school, and the scarecrow of the cattle doctor. But what do they know
about it? Let us see.
Dr. Thatcher says, "Numerous hypotheses or opinions respecting the true
nature and cause of inflammation have for ages been advanced, and for a
time sustained; but even at the present day, the various doctrines
appear to be considered altogether problematical."
Professor Percival says, "Inflammation consists in an increased action
of the arteries, and may be either _healthy_ or _unhealthy_[4]--a
distinction that appears to relate to some peculiarity of the
constitution."
We find inflammation described by most old school authors as disease,
and they treat it as such. Professor Payne says, "A great majority of
all the disorders to which the human frame is liable begin with
inflammation, or end in inflammation, or are accompanied by inflammation
in some part of their course, or resemble inflammation in their
symptoms. Most of the organic changes in different parts of the body
recognize inflammation as their cause, or lead to it as their effect. In
short, a very large share of the premature extinctions of human life in
general is more of less attributable to inflammation."
The term _inflammation_ has long been employed by medical men to denote
the existence of an unusual degree of redness, pain, heat, and swelling
in any of the textures or organs of which the body is composed.
Professor Curtis says, "But as inflammation sometimes exists without the
exhibition of any of these symptoms, authors have been obliged to
describe it by its causes, in attendant symptoms, and its effects. It is
not more strange than true, that, after studying this subject for, _as
they say_, four thousand years, experimenting on it and with it, and
defining it, the sum of all their knowledge and definitions is
this--inflammation in the animal frame is either a simple or compound
action, increased or diminished, or a cessation of all action; it either
causes, or is caused, or is accompanied, by all the forms of disease to
which the body is subject; it is the only agent of cure in every case in
which a cure is effected; it destroys all that die, except by accident
or old age; it is both disease itself, and the only antidote to disease;
it is the pathological principle which lies at the base of all others;
it is that which the profession least of all understand."
Who believes, then, that the science of medicine is based on a sure
foundation?
The following selections from the allopathic works will prove what is
above stated.
"Pure inflammation is rather an effort of nature than a disease; yet it
always implies disease or disturbance, inasmuch as there must be a
previous morbid or disturbed state to make such an effort
necessary."--_Hunter_, vol. iv. pp. 293, 294.
"As inflammation is an action produced for the restoration of the most
simple injury in sound parts which goes beyond the power of union by the
first intention, we must look upon it as one of the most simple
operations in nature, whatever it may be when arising from disease, or
diseased parts. Inflammation is to be considered only a disturbed state
of parts, which requires a new but salutary mode of action to restore
them to that state wherein a natural mode of action alone is necessary.
Therefore inflammation in itself is not to be considered a disease, but
a salutary operation consequent either to some violence or to some
disease."--_Ibid._ vol. iv. p. 285.
"A wound or bruise cannot recover itself but by inflammation_."--Ibid._
p. 286.
"From whatever cause inflammation arises, it appears to be nearly the
same in all; for in all it is an effort intended to bring about a
reinstatement of the parts to their natural function."--_Ibid._ p. 286.
_Results of Inflammation._--"Inflammation is said to terminate in
resolution, effusion, adhesion, suppuration, ulceration, granulation,
cicatrization, and mortification. All these different terminations,
except the last, may be regarded as so many _vital_ processes, exerted
in different parts of the animal economy."--_Prof. Thompson_, p. 97.
"Inflammation must needs occupy a large share of attention of both the
physician and the surgeon. In nine cases out of ten, the first question
which either of them asks himself, on being summoned to the patient, is,
_Have I to deal with inflammation here?_ It is constantly the object of
his treatment and watchful care. It affects all parts that are furnished
with blood-vessels, and it affects different parts very variously.... It
is by inflammation that wounds are closed and fractures repaired--that
parts adhere together when their adhesion is essential to the
preservation of the individual, and that foreign and hurtful matters are
conveyed out of the body. A cut finger, a deep sabre wound, alike
require inflammation to reunite the divided parts. Does ulceration occur
in the stomach or intestines, and threaten to penetrate through
them--inflammation will often forerun and provide against the
danger--glue the threatened membrane to whatever surface may be next
it.... The foot mortifies, is killed by injury or by exposure to
cold--inflammation will cut off the dead and useless part. An abscess
forms in the liver, or a large calculus concretes in the gall-bladder:
how is the pus or the calculus to be got rid of?... Partial inflammation
precedes and prepares for the expulsion; the liver or the gall-bladder
becomes adherent to the walls of the abdomen on the one hand, or to the
intestinal canal on the other; and then the surgeon may plunge his
lancet into the collection of pus, or the abscess; or the calculus may
cut its own way safely out of the body, through the skin or into the
bowels."--_Watson_, p. 94.
"The salutary acts of restoration and prevention just adverted to, are
such as nature conducts and originates. But we are ourselves able, in
many instances, to direct and control the effect of inflammation--nay,
we can excite it at our pleasure; and, having excited it, we are able,
in a great degree, to regulate its course. And for this reason it
becomes, in skilful hands, an instrument of cure."--_Ibid._ p. 94.
The above quotations are not complete. They are selections from the
sources whence they are drawn of those portions which testify that fever
and inflammation are one and the same thing, and that this same thing
consists in a salutary effort of nature to protect the organs of the
body from the action of the causes of disease, or to remove those causes
and their effects from the organs once diseased. That the same authors
teach the very contrary of all this in the same paragraphs, and often in
the same sentences, the following extracts will clearly prove:--
_Inflammation produces disease._--"When inflammation cannot accomplish
that salutary purpose, (a cure,) as in cancer, scrofula, &c., it does
mischief."--_Hunter_, p. 285.
"Inflammation is occasionally the cause of disease."--_Ibid._ p. 286.
"In one point of view, it may be considered as a disease
itself."--_Ibid._
"It may be divided into two kinds, the healthy and the unhealthy.... The
unhealthy admits of a vast variety," &c.--_Ibid._
"Inflammation often produces mortification or death in the inflamed
part."--_Ibid._ vol. iv. p. 305.
"In the light of such authorities, it is surely not strange that no
definite knowledge can be obtained of the nature, character, or tendency
of inflammation. Of course, no one will dispute the proposition, that
medicine, as taught in the schools, is a superstructure without a
foundation, and should be wholly rejected."--_Prof. Curtis._
If the regulars have no correct theory of inflammation, then their
system of blood-letting is all wrong. This they acknowledge; for many
with whom we have lately conversed say, "We do not use the lancet so
often as formerly." One very good reason is, the sovereign people will
not let them. Would it not be better for them to abolish its use
altogether, as we have done, and avail themselves of the reform of the
age?
The following remarks, selected from an address delivered by our
respected preceptor, Professor Brown, ought to be read by every friend
of humanity.
"The very air groans with the bitter anathemas the people pronounce upon
calomel, antimony, copper, zinc, arsenic, arsenious acid, stramonium,
foxglove, belladonna, henbane, nux vomica, opium, morphia, and
narcotin.
"Hear their bitter cries, borne on every breeze, 'Help! help! help!' See
the dim taper of life; it glimmers--'tis gone! Vitality struggled, and
struggled manfully to the last. The poisonous dose was repeated, till
the citadel was yielded up.
"The doctor arrives and attempts to comfort and quiet the broken-hearted
widow, and helpless, dependent, fatherless children, by recounting the
frailties of poor human nature, and reminding them of the fact that all
men must die.
"And thus the work of death goes on: the tenderest ties are severed;
children are left fatherless; parents are bereaved of their children;
families are reduced to fragments; society deprived of her best
citizens, and the world filled with misery, confusion, and poverty, in
consequence of an evil system of medication....
"The ball is in motion, the banner of medical reform waves gracefully
over our beloved country. Hosts of the right stripe are coming to the
rescue. Poisons are condemned, the lancet is growing dull, the effusion
of blood will soon cease, the battles are half fought, and the victory
is sure.... While we would have you adhere to the well-established,
fundamental principles of reformed medical science, as taught in this
school, we would have you recollect that discoveries in knowledge are
progressing.... Never entertain the foolish, absurd, and dangerous idea,
that because you have been to college, you have learned all that is to
be learned--that your education is finished, and you have nothing more
to learn. The college is a place where we go to learn how to learn, and
the world is the great university, in which our educational exercises
terminate with our last expiring breath."
The author craves the reader's indulgence for introducing Dr. Brown's
remarks at this stage of the work. It is intended for a class of readers
(_the farmers_) who have not the time to make themselves acquainted with
all that is going on in the medical world. We aim to make the book
acceptable to that class of men. If we fail, the fault is in us, not in
our subjects.
FOOTNOTE:
[4] Inflammation is a vital action, and cannot be properly termed
_diseased_ action. The only action that can be properly termed
_diseased_ is the chemical action.
REMARKS,
SHOWING THAT VERY LITTLE IS KNOWN OF THE NATURE AND TREATMENT OF
DISEASE.
Mr. Percival details a case of peritonitis,[5] after the usual symptoms
in the early stage had subsided. "The horse's bowels became much
relaxed: suspecting that there was some disorder in the alimentary
canal, and that this was an effort of nature to get rid of it, I
promoted the diarrhoea by giving mild doses of cathartic medicine, in
combination with calomel!" [Nature did not require such assistance: warm
drinks, composed of marshmallows, or slippery elm, would have been just
the thing.]
"On the third day from this, prolapsus ani (falling of the fundament)
made its appearance. After the return of the gut, the animal grew daily
duller, and more dejected, manifesting evident signs of considerable
inward disorder, though he showed none of acute pain; the diarrhoea
continued; swelling of the belly and tumefaction of the legs speedily
followed: eight pounds of blood were drawn, and two ounces of oil of
turpentine were given internally, and in spite of another bleeding, and
some subordinate measures, carried him off [the treatment, we presume]
in the course of a few hours.
"Dissection: a slight blush pervaded the peritoneum; at least the
parietal portion of it, for the coats of the stomach and intestines
preserved their natural whiteness. About eight gallons of water were
measured out of the belly.[6] The abdominal viscera, as well as the
thoracic, showed no marks of disease."
We have stated, in the preceding pages, that the farmers can generally
treat some cases of disease, by simple means, with much better success
than some of the regulars; yet there are exceptions. Some of them have
been inoculated with the virus of allopathy; and when an animal is taken
sick, and manifests evident signs of great derangement, they seem to
suppose that the more medicine they cram down the better, forgetting,
perhaps not knowing, that the province of the physician is to know when
to do nothing. Others err from want of judgment; and if they have an
animal sick, they send for the neighbors; each one has a favorite
remedy; down go castor oil, aloes, gin and molasses, in rapid
succession. "He has inflammation of the insides," says one; "give him
salts." No sooner said than done; the salts are hurried down, and, of
course, find their way into the paunch. These, together with a host of
medicines too numerous to mention, are tried without effect: all is
commotion within; fermentation commences; gas is evolved; the animal
gives signs of woe. As a last resort, paunching, bleeding, &c., follow;
perhaps the horns are bored, or some form of barbarity practised, and
the animal dies under the treatment.
A case similar to the above came under our notice a few months since. A
cow, of a superior breed, was sent a few miles into the country to
winter. Having always had the very best of feed, the owner gave
particular instructions that she should be fed accordingly; instead of
which, however, she was fed on foxgrass and other indigestible matter,
in consequence of which she was attacked with acute indigestion,
(gastric fever, as it is generally called,) more popularly known, in
barn-yard language, as a "stoppage." A man professing to understand
_cow-doctoring_ was sent for, who, after administering "every thing he
could think of" without success, gave a mixture of hog's lard and castor
oil. When asked what indication he expected to fulfil, he replied, "My
object was to wake up the cow's ideas"! Unfortunately, he awoke the
wrong ideas; for the cow died. On making a post mortem examination,
about half a bushel of partly-masticated foxgrass was found in the
paunch, and the manyplus was distended beyond its physiological
capacity. On making an incision into it, the partly-digested food was
quite hard and dry, and the mucous covering of the laminae--even the
laminae themselves--could be detached with the slightest force. The
farmer will probably inquire, What ought to be done in such cases?
Before we answer the question, a few remarks on the nature of the
obstruction seem to be necessary.
In the article _Description of the Organs of Digestion_, the reader will
learn the modes by which the food reaches the different compartments of
the stomach. In reference to the above case, the causes of derangement
are self-evident, which will be seen as we proceed. The animal had,
previous to the journey, (thirty miles,) received the greatest care and
attention; in short, she had been petted. Being pregnant at the time,
the stomach was more susceptible to derangement than at any other time.
The long journey could not act otherwise than unfavorably: first,
because it would fatigue the muscular system; secondly, because it would
irritate the nervous. Here, then, are the first causes; and it is
important, in all cases of a deviation from health, to ascertain, as
near as possible, the causes, and remove them. _This is considered the
first step towards a cure._ If we cannot remove the causes, we are
enabled, by an inquiry into them, to adopt the most efficient means for
the recovery of the animal. The animal having had a bountiful meal
before starting on the journey, and not being allowed sufficient time to
remasticate, (rumination is partially or totally suspended during active
exercise,) probably, combined with the above causes, an acute attack of
the stomach set in--subsided after a few days, and left those organs in
a debilitated state. The sudden change in diet also acted unfavorably,
especially as the foxgrass required more than ordinary gastric power to
reduce it to a pulpy mass, fit to enter the fourth, or true digestive
stomach. For want of a due share of vital action in the abomasum,
(fourth stomach,) it was unable to perform its part in the physiological
process of digestion; hence the accumulation found in the manyplus. The
causes of the detachment of laminae, and the blanched appearances,--for
it was as white as new linen,--were partly chemical and partly
mechanical. The mechanical obstruction consisted in over-distention of
the manyplus from food, thereby obstructing the circulation of the blood
through its parietes, (walls,) and depriving it not only of nutriment,
from the nerves of nutrition, but paralyzing its secretive function. It
then became a prey to chemical action and decomposition. The indications
of cure were, to arouse the digestive organs by stimulants, then by
anti-spasmodic, relaxing, and tonic medicines, (for which see
APPENDIX:) the digestive organs would probably have recommenced
their healthy action, and the life of the animal might have been saved.
Oil and grease, of every description and kind, are not suitable remedies
to administer to cattle when laboring under indigestion; for at best
their action is purely mechanical, and cannot be assimilated by the
nutritive function so as to act medicinally. Linseed oil is, however,
absorbed and diffused. If the animal labors under obstinate
constipation, and it is evident that the obstruction is confined to the
intestines, then we may resort to a dose of oil.
The reader will perceive the benefits to be derived from a knowledge of
animal physiology and veterinary medicine, when based upon sound
principles and common sense. He will also see the importance of having
educated and honorable men employed in cattle-doctoring. No doubt there
are such; but surely something is "rotten in Denmark;" for we are
repeatedly told by our patrons that they "judge of the merits of the
veterinary art by the men they find engaged in it."
_Scientific Treatment of Colic, or Gripes._--"On the 5th September,
1824, a young bay mare was admitted into the infirmary with symptoms of
colic, for which she lost eight pounds of blood before she came in. The
following drench was prescribed to be given immediately: laudanum and
oil of turpentine, of each, three ounces, with the addition of six
ounces of decoction of aloes. In the course of half an hour, this was
repeated! But shortly after, she vomited the greater part by the mouth
and nostrils. No relief having been obtained, twelve pounds of blood
were taken from her, and the same drink was given. In another hour, this
drench was repeated; and, for the fourth time, during the succeeding
hour; both of which, before death, she rejected, as she had done the
second drink. Notwithstanding these active measures were promptly taken,
she died about three hours after her admission." (See Clark's _Essay on
Gripes_.) It appears that the doctors made short work of it. Twelve
ounces of laudanum, and the same of turpentine,[7] in three hours! But
this is "_secundum artem_" "skilful treatment"--a specimen of "science
and skill," and justifiable in every case where the symptoms are
"alarming." Let the reader, if he has ever seen a case of colic treated
by us, contrast the result. Had the case been treated with relaxing,
anti-spasmodic, carminative drinks, warmth and moisture externally,
injections internally, and frictions generally, the poor animal would,
probably, have been saved. We have attended many cases of the same sort,
and have not yet lost the first one.
_Extraordinary case of "cattle doctoring"!--which ought to be termed
cattle-killing._--We were requested by Mr. S. of Waltham, December 18,
1850, to see a sick cow. The following is the history of the case: The
cow, as near as we could judge, was of native breed, in good condition,
and in her eighth pregnant month; pulse, 80 per minute; respirations, 36
per minute; external surface, ears, horns, and legs, cold. She had not
dunged for several days. She was found lying on her belly, with her head
turned round towards the left side. She struggled occasionally, and
appeared to suffer from abdominal pain. She uttered a low, moaning sound
when pressure was made on the abdominal muscles. The following facts
were related to us by the owner, which we give in his own language. "I
bought the cow, and drove her about 200 miles to this place. She had
been here about a week, when I perceived she did not eat her feed as
well as usual. She became sick about nine days ago, I thought it best to
begin to doctor her! I employed a man who was reputed to be a pretty
good cattle doctor. She got pretty well dosed between us, for we first
gave her one pound of salts. The next day we gave her another pound.
Finding this also failed to have the desired effect, we gave her one
pound eight ounces more. She kept getting worse. We next gave her a
quart of urine. She still grew worse. Two table-spoonfuls of gunpowder
and a quarter of a pound of antimony were then given; still no
improvement. As a last resort, we gave her eight drops of croton oil; a
few hours afterwards, nine drops more were given; and a final dose of
twenty drops of the same article was administered. The cow rolled her
eyes as if she were about to die. I then called in the neighbors to kill
her, when one of them advised me to come and see you." The reader will
here perceive that we had a pretty desperate case; having been called in
just at the eleventh hour. We may here remark that the cow had been
under treatment nine days, during which time she had eaten scarcely any
food, and passed but very little excrement. The medicine had been given
at different stages during that period. There was evidently no
accumulation of excrement in the rectum, for she had been raked and
received several injections.
As we were not requested to take charge of the case, the owner being
unwilling to incur additional expense, we, therefore, with a view of
giving present relief, and fulfilling the necessary indications, ordered
the following:
Powdered slippery elm, 1 table-spoonful.
" caraways, 1 tea-spoonful.
" marshmallows, 1 table-spoonful.
" skullcap, 1 tea-spoonful.
" grains of paradise, 1 tea-spoonful.
A sufficient quantity of boiling water to form it into the consistence
of thin gruel; a junk bottle full to be given every two hours.
Directions were given to rub the ears and extremities until they were
warm, and the strength of the animal to be supported with thin flour
gruel.
The indications to be fulfilled were as follows:--
1st. To lubricate the mucous surfaces, and defend them from the action
of the drugs.
2d. To arouse the digestive function, and prevent the generation of
carbonic acid gas.
3d. To allay nervous excitement, and remove spasms.
Lastly. To equalize the circulation.
The first indication can be fulfilled by slippery elm and marshmallows;
the second, by caraway seeds; the third, by skullcap; and the fourth, by
grains of paradise.
We have not been able, up to the present time, to ascertain the result.
Here, then, are a few examples of horse and cattle doctoring, which we
might multiply indefinitely, did we think it would benefit the reader.
We ask the reader to ponder on these facts, and then answer the
question, "What do horse and cattle doctors know about the treatment of
disease?"
It gives us much pleasure, however, and probably it will the reader, to
know that a few of the veterinary surgeons of London are just beginning
to see the error of their ways. The following contribution to the
Veterinarian, from the pen of Veterinary Surgeon Haycock, will be read
with interest. The quotations are not complete. We only select those
portions which we deem most instructive to our readers. The disease to
which it alludes, _puerperal fever_, has made, and is at the present
time making, sad havoc among the stock of our cattle-growing interest;
and it stands us in hand to gather honey wherever we can find it. "Of
the various questions which present themselves to traders and owners of
cattle respecting puerperal
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