Charles Waterton and Medicine

The treatment of illness and infection in the first half of the nineteenth century was quite different to the highly technical and pharmacological interventions of today. Much knowledge of potions was still in the hands of herbalists and apothecaries, the latter preparing mixtures from large jars of various herbal extracts and chemicals, which they kept in their shops. There was very limited use of anaesthetics and a common method of treating infections was by bleeding using leeches or cupping. ¹ Charles Waterton (1782-1865), the noted traveller and Natural Historian, consulted doctors, but treated fevers and most ailments himself - even when afflicted with malaria and other serious vector-borne diseases.

In addition to being expert at dissection, having acquired much practice through his work in taxidermy, Charles Waterton was also skilled in the use of a lancet (an example is shown above) and the first step in his self-treatment was to “open a vein” and allow at least a pint of blood, sometimes considerably more, to pour out. This was accompanied by taking calomel (mercurous chloride, Hg₂Cl₂) and jalap (a powder derived from the tuber of Ipomoea purga and originating in Mexico). Calomel and jalap have very similar properties in being purgatives and also cathartic, causing rapid emptying of the bowels. Waterton always seemed to feel better after bleeding and purging and this seems linked to his devout Catholic faith. Bleeding is an important symbol in Catholic mysticism, and this may also be said of flagellation, and Charles’ own treatments do have an echo of gaining both medical and spiritual relief. It’s as though he expects the illness to leave his body rapidly, in the manner of an exorcism. 

Other treatments used were typical of the times. For example, it has been known that quinine is effective in reducing the effects of malaria (it causes death of the protozoan parasite) and that the best-known preparation of quinine comes from the bark of Cinchona trees in the tropical jungles of South America. The preparation is known colloquially as “Jesuit’s Bark” (Jesuit missionaries propagated its use) and this would have resonated with Charles; indeed, he may have heard of it from his time at Stonyhurst, the Jesuit school where was educated and which meant so much to him. Natural materials were also used to treat other medical problems. For example, Charles applied poultices to surface wounds as a means of providing heat ² and what better compound than boiled cow dung? 

When 68-years-old, Charles had two accidents that broke bones in his arm and, in the manner of the times, these were allowed to heal naturally. Unfortunately, this wasn’t effective and Charles was persuaded to contact the local bonesetter who made regular visits to his home, Walton Hall, to re-align the bones. There was no anaesthetic and Charles did not drink alcohol, so there was no recourse to that way of boosting courage. The treatment by the bonesetter must have hurt a great deal but it was endured with stoicism and it appears to have been successful. 

Should Charles have been unfortunate enough to be bitten by a rabid animal, he was sure of the action that should be taken - the injection of wourali. One of the purposes of the first of his “Wanderings” in Guyana was to contact native Indians and find out more about wourali, which they used for hunting. The poison, also known as curare, is prepared from a number of liana vines (including those of the genus Strychnos, the likely source of Waterton’s wourali ³) and is a powerful muscle relaxant. It is effective when injected but the active molecules are not passed across the digestive tract, so the game killed by darts tipped with wourali is not toxic to those eating their flesh. Although wourali was known to the outside World, and an important presentation on the effects of the material was made to the Royal Society by Brodie in 1811, it was Charles Waterton who brought original wourali from Guyana to Europe and showed its effectiveness in demonstrations on large animals, having seen its action on his travels in South America. 

To mark the bicentenary of Waterton’s birth, the Yorkshire Society of Anaesthetists held a Symposium at Walton Hall on 5th June 1982 and the Proceedings were written up in Volume 55 of the British Journal of Anaesthesia and published in 1983. In addition to the discussion of wourali, there are papers on Charles’ taxidermy and on his collections which are now held by the Wakefield Museum where a new display opened in 2012, including a case featuring poison darts collected by Charles on the “First Wandering”. 

In his paper “Waterton and Wourali”, ⁴ W.D.A.Smith outlines Charles Waterton’s accounts of the effect of wourali on animals of a range of sizes and then the demonstration conducted at the Veterinary College in London: 

“Waterton then described the famous experiments, performed with wourali upon asses in 1814, on his return to England. One ass survived injection of wourali into the leg below a tightened bandage, but died upon loosening it. A she-ass was apparently dead in 10 minutes but was revived by regularly inflating the lungs for four hours, using bellows inserted through an incision in her wind-pipe. She was re-named Wouralia and Earl Percy sent her up to Walton Hall to live in peace.” 

Wouralia lived for many years and there is an element of whimsy in the story of her life, something that fits well with that side of Charles Waterton’s nature. 

Smith continues: 

“In his Second Series of Essays on Natural History (1844), Waterton described how he was called to a Nottingham police officer called Phelps who had hydrophobia, but arrived too late. However, using dogs and two asses, he demonstrated the effects of wourali and the effectiveness of artificial respiration to a large audience at the Medical School.. ..According to Waterton the audience was convinced that because the virulence of wourali was under the control of the operator, it could be used in cases of hydrophobia. He recommended that no other remedy be tried simultaneously.” 

Charles Waterton thus brought wourali to a wider medical public, by his demonstrations and also through his connections with Earl Percy and others - like Sir Joseph Banks FRS, the famous Botanist, Natural Historian and traveller. ⁵ Charles did not lack friends in high places, but equally felt very at home with his travelling companions and those he met in and around the estate in Yorkshire. He was a most interesting man and far from being just an eccentric, as readers of Edith Sitwell's English Eccentrics might assume, given that Sitwell gives him a chapter all to himself. 


¹ J.L.Turk and E. Allen (1983) Bleeding and cupping. Annals of the Royal College of Surgeons of England 65:128-131. 

² Julia Blackburn (1989) Charles Waterton 1782-1865: Traveller and Conservationist. London, The Bodley Head. 

³ J.Cooke, A.Cawood, A. Crossley and F.R.Ellis (1983). Wourali: Analysis and Bioassay. British Journal of Anaesthesia 55: 225-226. 

⁴ W.D.A.Smith (1983) Waterton and Wourali. British Journal of Anaesthesia 55: 221-225. 

⁵ A.T.Birmingham (1999) Waterton and Wouralia. British Journal of Pharmacology 126: 1685-1689. 

 


Edith Sitwell (1933) English Eccentrics. London, Faber and Faber. 

A famous “ride” - Charles Waterton and the Cayman

In his biography of the Nineteenth Century Natural Historian Frank Buckland, ¹ George C Bompas mentions a letter that Frank wrote to the Temple Bar Magazine about a coachman he remembered well:

 

I had great respect for this coachman, as he once brought my father a semi-dead crocodile, in the coach boot, from Southampton. My father turned the dead crocodile into the pond in the middle of the quadrangle at Christ Church, to revive him; but he refused to be revived, so I rode about upon him, Waterton fashion, and somehow I always associated the Southampton coachman with a crocodile.

 

Frank’s father was the famous Dr William Buckland, then Canon of Christ Church Oxford and later to be Dean of Westminster, and himself a Natural Historian and Geologist, in addition to being a cleric and a socialite. The Waterton referred to in the quote was Charles Waterton, the Squire of Walton Hall, and his riding on the back of a caiman was a well-known piece of derring-do of the times, commented on by a society which loved such tales.

 

Charles Waterton was a free spirit, known for his books describing Wanderings (travels) in Demerara (Guyana) and elsewhere. Waterton was a close observer of Natural History and he was also a taxidermist of note, catching and preparing specimens that were then brought back to his collection in Yorkshire. It was on the Third Wandering that he rode on the back of a caiman (Cayman of Waterton) that had been captured using four barbed hooks that were bound together and baited. Having captured the caiman, it now had to be brought ashore and without any injury to its skin, as it was to be added to the collection. This is what Charles wrote about the capture:

 

…The people [in the hunting party] pulled the Cayman to the surface; he plunged furiously as soon as he arrived in these upper regions, and immediately went below again on their slackening the rope. I saw enough not to fall in love at first sight. I now told them we would run all risks and have him on land immediately. They pulled again, and out he came… …This was an interesting moment. I kept my position firmly, with my eye fixed steadfast on him.

By the time the Cayman was within two yards of me I saw he was in a state of fear and perturbation. I instantly dropped the mast [Charles had taken the mast from his canoe and intended to thrust it into the throat of the caiman, if needed], sprung up and jumped on his back, turning half round as I vaulted, so that I gained my seat with my face in a right position. I immediately seized his fore legs, and, by main force, twisted them on his back; thus they served me for a bridle.

He now seemed to have recovered from his surprise, and probably fancying himself in hostile company he began to plunge furiously, and lashed the sand with his long and powerful tail. I was out of reach of the strokes of it by being near his head. He continued to plunge and strike and made my seat very uncomfortable. It must have been a fine sight for an unoccupied spectator.

The people roared out in triumph, and were so vociferous, that it was some time before they heard me tell them to pull me and my beast of burden farther inland. I was apprehensive the rope might break, and then there would have been every chance of going down to the regions under water with the Cayman...

...The people now dragged us above forty yards on the sand: it was the first and last time I was ever on a Cayman's back. Should it be asked, how I managed to keep my seat, I would answer, - I hunted some years with Lord Darlington's fox hounds.

After repeated attempts to regain his liberty, the Cayman gave in, and became tranquil through exhaustion. I now managed to tie up his jaws, and firmly secured his fore-feet in the position I had held them. We had now another severe struggle for superiority, but he was soon overcome, and again remained quiet. While some of the people were pressing upon his head and shoulders, I threw myself on his tail, and by keeping it down to the sand, prevented him from kicking up another dust. He was finally conveyed to the canoe, and then to the place where we had suspended our hammocks. There I cut his throat; and after breakfast was over commenced the dissection.

Charles must have enjoyed recounting the story to anyone he met and, no doubt, did so with relish. It was certainly a well-known event of the times, as we saw in the quote from Frank Buckland, yet the caiman was not huge and it was being pulled by a rope attached to the barbed hooks in its throat, so there was less danger from being bitten than might otherwise have been the case. Sitting astride the caiman and lifting the forelegs backwards and upwards was an eminently sensible way for a brave man to avoid both the jaws and the lashing tail of the beast, until the animal could be subdued and killed. The preserved caiman in question is in the Wakefield Museum ² and it certainly looks little damaged when one gazes down at it, so Charles was successful in achieving his objective. The capture was celebrated in a painting by Captain Edwin Jones, ³ an old friend of Charles (and who had joined him in climbing to the top of the Cross on St Peter’s in Rome, but that’s a story for another blog post). The painting is clearly a piece of fun, decorated as it is with all manner of tropical birds, but it became a popular image of Charles Waterton.

One of Charles’ most notable detractors, James Simson, wrote this comment in his hostile biography, ⁴ that contained attacks on almost every aspect of the Squire’s life:

...in Demerara... ...he is held in pleasant remembrance, for the friendly feeling which he always expressed for the Colony; but a laugh is generally raised when allusion is made to some of the statements in his Wanderings; that of “riding the cayman” causing the loudest one.

It may be true that Charles’ enthusiasm sometimes caused him to elaborate some passages in the Wanderings but, although celebrated as a good story, I have already advocated that sitting on the back of the caiman, while lifting the forelegs from the ground, was a sensible tactic if the animal was to be captured alive and undamaged. However, Simson won’t let go of his attack and mentions a conversation that Waterton had with someone he met:

This gentleman must have been of little intelligence, or had very superficially read the Wanderings; or had had his opinions much influenced by Waterton’s territorial and social standing, and the notoriety which he had acquired by his pursuits in natural history. And the circumstances are very apt to affect the ideas of people in regard to Waterton at the present day; although no one, certainly no Yorkshire man, should have a difficulty in deciding the question, that a person could not ride far or fast, or “ride” at all, on any quadruped (a kangaroo, perhaps, excepted) on its two hind feet, whatever was done with the fore ones.

So the attack is based largely on a misconception of what happened when the caiman was brought ashore and, certainly, on the way in which these animals move on land. Simson finishes his attack with this:

There is little to be drawn from the works of Waterton calculated to inspire confidence. His having been brought up so completely under the influence of the Jesuits was a drawback in the estimation even of a large part of his co-religionists. The affected style of much of the Wanderings, embracing page after page of apostrophizing... ...and his “thouing” and “theeing” the reader so frequently, were unbecoming a man of forty-three years of age, and nearly six feet in height, who had travelled and seen so much as he had... ...and ringing the change on kind reader, kind-hearted reader, benevolent reader, kind and gentle reader, etc., were in such contrast with his style, after publication, towards those who differed from him, that his action might be compared to that of one of his favourites, lifting its feet, and purring, and rubbing itself against its friends, and instantly presenting an aspect of “fearful asperity” to its enemies.

Strong feelings indeed. I agree with Simson on the importance of Charles’ Jesuit schooling at Stonyhurst College, but feel that this set him free, as his Catholic faith, and the values of the Jesuits, were fundamental to him and provided him with inner strength. I also agree that Charles had prolonged feuds, some of which he started and which he was happy to prolong, often with a sense of mischief. He also had long-term, close and loyal friendships.

 

Charles Waterton was considered worthy of a chapter of his own in Edith Sitwell’s The English Eccentrics, ⁵ yet he was a man about whom The Illustrated London News of 24th August 1844,  ⁶ in a review of the Second Volume of Essays in Natural History, wrote: “In closing this brief sketch of Mr Waterton, we must not omit to mention that he is the first bird-stuffer in the world, and one of the most kind-hearted landlords, and a zealous and conscientious Catholic. A highly recommendatory feature of his writings is that they uniformly enjoin tender treatment of animals, and a generous sympathy with their persecutions.” That is Charles Waterton in a nutshell (although the secret of his taxidermy is that it avoided the need for stuffing....), but the picture accompanying the article is less good in representing Charles’ typical clothing, which was rather less formal:

 

 

 

 

¹ George C Bompas (1886) Life of Frank Buckland. London, Smith, Elder & Co.

² http://www.experiencewakefield.co.uk/events/thedms.aspx?dms=13&feature=1073&venue=2190474

³ There is some confusion in the literature over whether Captain Jones was called Edwin or Edward.

⁴ James Simson (1880) Charles Waterton; Naturalist. New York, James Miller.

⁵ Edith Sitwell (1933) English Eccentrics. London, Faber and Faber.

⁶ The Illustrated London News 24th August 1844

Connections: Henry Gosse, Charles Waterton and the Peales of Philadelphia

Henry Gosse, having given up the idea of farming in Canada, decided to travel south, writing: “My eye is set towards Georgia or South Carolina, as I understand persons of education are in demand there, both in mercantile and academical situations.” ¹ By 26th March 1838, Henry had reached Philadelphia:

It was in Philadelphia that he first enjoyed the sympathy and help of genuine men of science. At the museum in Chestnut Street, he met Mr Titian R. Peale, a local zoological artist of considerable eminence, who charmed him at once, and surprised him by his deferential civility and his instinctive recognition of this grim-featured, unknown youth [Henry was weeks away from his 28th birthday] as one destined to be “somebody”. Mr Peale was just then starting as the artist of an exploring exhibition to the South Seas, under Lieutenant Charles Wilkes, and he was particularly interested in the exquisite drawings of insects which Philip [Henry] Gosse had brought from Canada. ¹

Titian Peale was ten years older than Henry and he was the youngest son of Charles Willson Peale, the founder of the original Peale Museum. Titian inherited his father’s love of both Natural History and painting and his passion was for butterflies and moths, thus his interest in Henry’s drawings (Titian's collection of Lepidoptera was subsequently donated to the Academy of Natural Sciences and can be seen today). ² During the conversations between Henry and Titian about Natural History, there is likely to have been reference to the visit to the Peale Museum of another Englishman, Charles Waterton, fourteen years before. This is part of Charles’ account of that visit:

When you go to Philadelphia, be sure not to forget to visit the Museum. It will afford you a great treat. Some of Mr [Charles Willson] Peale’s family are constantly in it, and are ever ready to show the curiosities to strangers, and to give them every necessary information. Mr Peale has now passed his eightieth year, and appears to possess the vivacity, and I may almost add, the activity of youth. To the indefatigable exertions of this gentleman, is the western world indebted for the possession of this splendid Museum. Mr Peale is, moreover, an excellent artist. ³

Like Henry Gosse, Charles Waterton had been a keen observer of the natural world since boyhood, but this common interest was one of the few similarities between the two men. Interestingly, the lives of both were dominated by their religious beliefs: for Henry Gosse, his complete trust in the literal truth of The Bible; for Charles Waterton, his Catholic faith and profound respect for the teachings of Jesuits. Although both men were writers, and could convey what they saw to readers with enthusiasm, they had different practical skills. Henry was a gifted artist and illustrator, while Charles perfected his own method of taxidermy, a subject that was of interest to Titian Peale who also practised in this field.

Having researched and written about the life of Henry Gosse, ⁴ it seemed natural for me to visit “Sandhurst”, his home in Torquay from 1857-1888. Of course, it had changed substantially, but I still felt something of the spirit of the man around the main building there. As I am currently writing about Charles Waterton, I decided to visit his home, Walton Hall, now part of the Waterton Park Hotel in Yorkshire. Better than that, I was able to stay in the Hall itself and it was easy to imagine its rather grand staircase with cases containing various preserved animals fixed to the outside of the banister rail. It was also easy to imagine Charles Waterton and his ascetic life here, sleeping with open windows at all times of year and not in a bed but on the floor, with a block for a pillow. Fortunately, the Hall is no longer infested with "Hanoverian rats", as it was in Charles' day.

 Walton Hall

The staircase at Walton Hall

There is much too much to Charles Waterton for a single blog post, for he was a most interesting man and a free sprit, being given a chapter of his own in Edith Sitwell’s The English Eccentrics. ⁵ One aspect of the man, however, can be mentioned and that was his pioneering interest in conservation. He had a high wall built around the Walton Hall estate, which then became a refuge for wild animals, free from intruding humans and other predators. It is said that Charles knew all the trees on the estate and, as he was an avid tree climber, this was not only from ground level. He took delight in seeing animals moving about freely and safely and, like many conservationists, he also enhanced areas to be especially favourable to some bird and mammal species. When he was not travelling, Charles spent much of his time watching the comings and goings and he was an excellent and patient field naturalist.

 Part of the wall surrounding Walton Hall estate

Unfortunately, the estate became polluted by effluent and toxic fumes from a nearby soap works and Charles fought court battles to have it closed down, finally offering the works owner a financial inducement to re-locate to a site some distance away. This allowed the estate to recover from the worst of the effects of the pollutants and, lest one think it was all a private obsession, it should be pointed out that Charles allowed access to local people and welcomed visitors who shared his passions.

Walton Hall estate today

Much of the Walton Hall estate is now a golf course and many of the trees have been cut down as a result. The Hall itself is not only a hotel but a popular wedding venue and I wonder how many people that visit are aware of the remarkable man who lived there in the nineteenth century? There are several biographies of Charles Waterton, one of them, ironically, being by Philip Gosse, ⁶ the grandson of Henry Gosse and the son of Edmund. A further irony is that Charles Waterton also had an only child whom he named Edmund and, in another parallel to Edmund Gosse, was quite different to his father in almost every way, although they shared a strong Catholic faith. Edmund Gosse went on to become an Establishment figure, without his father’s unshakeable evangelical Christian faith, while Edmund Waterton liked luxury, the trappings of privilege and the gaudier aspects of Roman Catholic ceremony and power. In the end, his expensive way of life meant that Walton Hall had to be sold and, to add yet another level of irony, the purchaser was Edward Simpson, the eldest son of the owner of the original soap works with whom Charles had fought the legal battles. ⁷

It is unfortunate that we only have one good likeness of Charles Waterton, although there are numerous descriptions of his habits and appearance. This likeness hangs in the National Portrait Gallery in London and was painted by Charles Willson Peale during Charles Waterton’s visit to Philadelphia in 1824. Having looked closely at this picture, I find it captures what I know of the man and also of his passion for taxidermy and Natural History. Like Henry Gosse, he was a remarkable character and perhaps not as eccentric as Edith Sitwell ⁵ would have us believe.

¹ Edmund Gosse (1896) The Naturalist of the Sea-Shore: The Life of Philip Henry Gosse. London, William Heinemann.

² http://clade.ansp.org/entomology/collections/peale/

³ Charles Waterton (1973) Wanderings in South America, the North-West of the United States, and the Antilles, in the years 1812, 1816, 1820 and 1824 with original instructions for the perfect preservation of birds and for cabinets of natural history. London, Oxford University Press.

⁴ Roger S Wotton (2012) Walking with Gosse: Natural History, Creation and Religious Conflicts. Southampton, Clio Publishing.

⁵ Edith Sitwell (1933) English Eccentrics. London, Faber and Faber.

⁶ Philip Gosse (1940) The Squire of Walton Hall: The Life of Charles Waterton. London, Cassell.

⁷Julia Blackburn (1989) Charles Waterton 1782-1865: Traveller and Conservationist. London, The Bodley Head.

 

P.S. Just to demonstrate Charles Willson Peale's love of art and artists, Titian had three brothers named Raphaelle, Rembrandt and Rubens. There were 16 children altogether.