# Quackery Unmasked/Chapter XV

CHAPTER XV.
HYDROPATHY.
When a weary traveller, after having urged his way through dark thickets, over unsightly fens, or across some arid desert, arrives at last at a clear fountain, or stream of pure water, he is gratified and refreshed; so perhaps the reader, after plodding through the labyrinth of Homœopathy, will rejoice that he is for once out of the woods, although, it may be, soon to plunge into some new jungle. And if he has not, like Tantalus, forgotten his thirst in the contemplation of infinitesimals, a little cold water may not be unacceptable. Yet it is very possible that what we have to offer will be too lukewarm, or even too hot, to suit some tastes.
Water has been employed in therapeutics, as a principal, or an auxiliary agent, ever since the Fall. The earliest families of the human race used it, not only as a common beverage, but also ​in numerous external ablutions, and such applications were often prescribed and required by the laws of both Jews and Gentiles; and throughout all succeeding generations, there has been no time when it was not employed, more or less, as a remedial or palliative auxiliary. Baths of all temperatures, in all imaginable forms and conditions, medicated and unmedicated, were extensively employed by the ancient Romans, Egyptians, and many other nations, and still continue in use to a greater or less extent, in all hot and temperate regions. The employment of water in external purifications, led to its use as a symbol of moral cleansing, which obtains in all countries and all religions. In very hot countries, where a large part of the effete matter of the body passes off through the skin, frequent ablutions are much more necessary than in cold regions; and those whose habits and propensities render them constantly filthy, require a more frequent and freer use of this universal lavement, in order to keep the surface of the body in a healthy condition.
One might suppose that the experience of six ​thousand years was quite sufficient to enable mankind to become acquainted with the proper use of water as a therapeutic agent; yet if Hydropathy is true, all the wise men and philosophers, of ancient and modern times, groped their way in darkness and ignorance upon this subject until a German peasant, by the name of Priessnitz, made the discovery that water is an universal panacea which is to supersede the use of all other medical means.
In 1831 Priessnitz set up the first hydropathic institution at Grseffenburgh. The lovers of novelty soon gathered around him, not in dozens or scores, but by hundreds and thousands, curious to see and try, for the first time, the sanative power of this universal element. The unexpected patronage which this new lazaretto received, induced individuals to set up others in Germany, Saxony, Bohemia, Bavaria, and other parts of the continent of Europe. Like a mighty deluge, the water mania spread over Great Britain, and soon reached the United States. Rochester, in the State of New York, had the honor of the first hydropathic institution in America; but that ​city was not long allowed to enjoy the boon alone, for, as if by magic, similar institutions soon crowned the hills and filled the valleys in many parts of New York and New England, and were seen in the south and west, the proprietors of each seeking, by advertising and other means, to surpass every other in celebrity and reap the most abundant golden harvest. Books were written and lectures delivered in order to convince mankind of the urgent necessity of repairing immediately to these immortalizing fountains, where water was used scientifically. Nor was the appeal made in vain. Many who were already invalids, or feared they should be, bound up their sheets and blankets, and left their own quiet homes, with their running brooks, pure springs and silver lakes, to be ducked by an ignoramus at some aquatic institution. And all such as had the sagacity to make the discovery, ascertained, before they got home, that the principal skill of the manager consisted in the art of turning his water into gold.
The principles held by this class of practitioners are vague and indefinite. The most ​knowing among them acknowledge that "the whole philosophy of the effects of water is not yet understood by any one" and that "those who know most about it have much to learn"; yet they assert that they have a perfect knowledge of all the means necessary to effect a cure in all cases by the use of water. They are quite sure that water is the only proper remedy in every case; but how it operates so as to cure in all cases, they cannot exactly tell. They suppose, however, the most common cause of disease to consist in the lodgment of effete or morbid matter in some part of the body, and therefore they attempt to cure the patient by washing out these filthy lodgments. This appears to be their main idea; and although they entertain others of less importance, they are not less absurd. Their theories are mostly of a mechanical character—they would compare the human body to a sponge, which they would cleanse by filling with water and pressing or rubbing it out. They suppose, however, that water may be made to produce various effects by various modes of application.
We will look a little into the philosophy of ​cleansing the body of impurities by wrapping it in wet sheets. Up to the time of making the application, nature was going on with her vital processes, casting off useless atoms, and supplying their places with new; but as soon as the aqueous envelope is applied, the cutaneous excretories become obstructed, the efferent current that was setting towards the surface is arrested at the outlet, and by this means the effete matter, instead of passing off, is shut up in the body, as it cannot readily pass off through an aqueous medium. No means are made use of to cleanse the primœ viœ, and every depurating outlet is closed. The patient, in passing through these aquatic transmigrations, may pass several weeks without any fecal evacuations. This is like attempting to cleanse a filthy fountain by damming up every outlet, and without removing the impurities from the fountain head. But suppose that this artificial irrigation and champooing is so conducted as to increase the discharge from the surface of the body—the whole manœuvre is nothing better than a morbid process. Is nothing but injurious matter removed from the body ​by such means? Is not the patient made weaker? Does he not become emaciated by the premature removal of the sound parts of his body? If the patient were a fish, such a process might revive him; or if he were some amphibious animal, such treatment might be congenial to his nature. A state of health is when every organ, membrane and tissue of the body performs its own appropriate duty. Whatever tends to promote and maintain such an equilibrium, is conducive to health; and whatever essentially disturbs that, produces to some extent a morbid condition. If the skin, by means of some artificial stimulus, is made to perform more than its proper, healthy function, the proper action of some other organ or tissue becomes diminished at the same time; and, on the other hand, if the action of the skin is materially diminished for any considerable length of time, some other organ undertakes the vicarious duty, and the system becomes deranged. On this account it is always highly important that all such disturbing causes should be avoided, and guarded against. Therefore we are obliged to regard many of the ​processes which have been contrived to lengthen out the play at hydropathic institutions, not only as ridiculous, but positively injurious. It has never been pretended that water was unimportant in the treatment of disease—rational medicine has always employed it, and must continue to do so whilst the world stands. Its use may have been improperly limited in some periods, but for a long time past it has been employed with the utmost freedom in the regular practice, and we would encourage its use in every reasonable manner in health and sickness. All the benefits that can be derived from bathing, or the use of water in any other manner, are quite as well understood by scientific physicians as by any German peasants or their disciples, and there is no necessity for any one to go abroad to be washed, and scrubbed, and drenched, at some water-cure manufactory. The quackery does not consist in the proper use of water, but in the empirical scheme that sets it up as an universal remedy, proper to be employed in all diseases, to the exclusion of every other means and without any rational bounds.
​Let it not be supposed that even pure water cannot be employed excessively or injuriously. The legitimate consequences of continual bathing, and packings in wet envelopes, are exhaustion, debility, and early decay. Every such process, continued for any considerable length of time, is a direct tax upon the vital powers. The atoms which compose the substance of the body are prematurely hurried off—the structure is worn away by constant irrigation—the skin becomes shrivelled and looks old—the muscles become flaccid, and all the bodily organs become more or less attenuated and atrophied. The cheeks fall in, and the visage is haggard. Abundant examples of this kind may be found among those who have long been under hydropathic treatment. Priessnitz himself died at the age of 52, with all the marks of decrepitude and extreme old age. He undoubtedly shortened his own life by the continual application of water to his own person. His biographer tells us that on the 27th of November, 1851, he went through the water-cure process for the last time, and on the day following, being wholly exhausted, he ​quietly laid himself down and died, a victim to his own monomania.
Whenever the skin is excessively taxed, or by any means made to perform more than its proper share of labor in the vital organism, debility and decrepitude follow as the necessary sequence. If any one wishes to see this principle exemplified upon a larger scale, let him cast his eyes over the globe. The inhabitants of the Sandwich Islands, of Borneo, Sumatra, and Ceylon, who are in the water almost as much as alligators, and even those who bathe daily in the pure waters of the Ganges, are effeminate and shortlived. In these regions female beauty is almost as short-lived as that of the rose—it is on the decline at eighteen, and is gone at twenty-five. Forty years is old age. Now look at the inhabitants of Greenland, Iceland, and the northern portions of Russia. In these regions the entire surface of the body is seldom or never washed during the whole life, and yet these people are healthy, vigorous and long-lived. If physiology and the laws of hygiene were more thoroughly and more generally understood, people would be ​more cautious in tampering with the skin, or in any other way disturbing the harmony of the vital organs. It is true that individuals suffering from gout, rheumatism, or some other chronic affections, may sometimes be benefited by treatment at a Water Cure Infirmary;—yet even in such cases the change of air, scenery, diet, and exercise, often contribute quite as much towards the improvement as the bathing and douche.
The indiscriminate use of water to all classes of patients cannot be too strongly condemned. Serious injury has often followed its injudicious use in cases of grave organic affections. Patients of that class often return home to die, much sooner than they would have done under a proper treatment at their quiet homes. Therefore before an invalid sets his face towards one of these falsely-named water-cures, to be packed away for hours in wet sheets, and then drenched, and washed, and sponged, and rubbed, and hung up to dry, he should take the advice of some competent medical friend, and endeavor to ascertain whether, in his particular case, such treatment will be most likely to do good or harm. ​No class of quacks ever boasted louder or longer of the certainty and permanency of their cures; but if we follow their patients home, we shall in too many instances be convinced of the falsity of their pretensions.
Hanger Cure.
As we have before stated, no empirical scheme ever spread more rapidly than Hydropathy, and certainly none ever received such liberal pecuniary aid. Men of wealth in Europe and in the United States threw their coffers wide open, and free as water invested their capital in water-cure establishments. Costly temples, dedicated to a modern Æsculapius, sprang up as if by enchantment—their spacious laboratories, extensive laundries and aquatic appendages, their gorgeous drawing-rooms and rich furniture, were indications of ability and permanency, whilst their broad ensigns seemed to offer to all mankind free absolution and remission of all bodily iniquities. These novel allurements soon filled their hydropathic temples with hosts of worshippers, and for a time everything went on swimmingly ​—but the novelty gradually wore away, and their impatient patients began to want something more than simple water to satisfy their demands. The wily managers were not slow to take the hint, and soon commenced administering medicines in conjunction with their aqueous manipulations. Although this is in direct violation of the principles upon which they started, yet it serves to prop up their ephemeral institutions. But the moss is already beginning to collect upon their humid walls; according to their own reports, a revolution by way of an improvement has sprung up in Germany, which has already lowered the water-cure ensign to half-mast, and erected over it Hunger Cure!!
The writer is chiefly indebted to Joel Shew, M.D., a talented advocate of hydropathy, for what information he has upon this subject. It appears that a German, by the name of John Schrott, is the author of a plan of treatment denominated the Hunger Cure. Schrott had long been acquainted with the water-cure process, and even claims to have been before Priessnitz in some of its modes of application. The ​circumstances which led him to the adoption of the Hunger Cure are briefly these. Whilst on a journey, his horse broke his leg; he applied to a monk, who advised him to wash the tumid leg often in cold water, and probe it with a sharp stick. But instead of complying fully with the monk's directions, he wound cloths about the limb and kept them constantly wet with cold water. The horse laid down and refused to eat or drink, but at length improved, and in ten weeks was well. In this case Schrott thought he saw an extraordinary cure, which he by the use of water, and the horse by his abstinence, had conjointly accomplished, and thereupon he set up an infirmary at Lindewiesse, near Græffenburgh, where he commenced treating patients upon his new plan. Guided by the lesson taught him by his sick horse, he came to the conclusion that sick men should not be allowed either to eat or drink, because sick animals will not. He commences what he calls his strong cure by packing the entire body, except the face, in blankets, which he keeps wet for eight hours every day, and directs entire abstinence from both food ​and drink; but if the patient is very hungry, he allows him for one or two days to take a very little dry stale biscuit, but no drink of any kind is allowed, and the stale biscuits are given up or withheld after the second day. This course is continued from two to eight days, as the patient can bear it; he says the longer it is continued, the better. When he thinks the process has been carried far enough, he takes his patient out of the wet blankets, and commences giving him a little wine, then light food, and if upon inspection he becomes satisfied that the patient is thoroughly cured, he lets him go; but if not, after a short interval he puts him through the same process a second, or if necessary a third time.
This operation Schrott calls a "new birth," and declares that such a renovation is "as necessary for a man, as for a snake to change his skin." He supposes that men, like cattle, are liable to become hide-bound, and need to be soaked and rubbed. Perhaps some of my readers may suppose that this treatment is so extremely ridiculous and painfully irksome, that no one would submit to it; but if we may believe ​the reports, this "Hunger Cure" hospital is constantly filled with patients, and boasts of the most extraordinary cures. Dr. Shew, whom we have mentioned before, has visited that establishment, and speaks in terms of praise of its author. The following is an extract from a Manual recently published by Dr. Shew:—"The Hunger Cure can hardly be said to be a system yet. Of its great value, we probably as yet know but little. I am myself, the more I see of it, the more surprised at its good effects, and one great object I have in bringing it before the American people is, that we may all of us, who love truth, join and aid each other in the investigation of its merits. I am now in the habit, and have been for years, of employing it in connection with the water treatment in various ways."
Again, Dr. Shew says, "We sometimes advise a person to fast on Mondays, eat on Tuesdays, fast on Wednesdays, eat on Thursdays, fast on Fridays, and eat on Saturdays and Sundays?" So it appears that our water-cure fraternity have already commenced experimenting upon this new and improved method of cure. If it should ​succeed as its friends hope it may, it will bring about an entire revolution in that branch of quackery; genuine Hydropathy will be literally starved to death—permitted still to bathe in its own oblivious element, but not allowed a drop of water to quench its thirst.