Dr. Thomas Sydenham (1624-1689): his life and original writings / [edited by] Kenneth Dewhurst.

  • Thomas Sydenham
Date:
1966
Catalogue details

Licence: Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International (CC BY-NC 4.0)

Credit: Dr. Thomas Sydenham (1624-1689): his life and original writings / [edited by] Kenneth Dewhurst. Source: Wellcome Collection.

    72/222 (page 48)
    renowned pupils. After qualifying at the University of Orange, Sloane handed Sydenham an introductory letter recommending him as a ripe scholar, a good botanist, a skilful anatomist. Whereupon Sydenham, assuming his most severe military manner, is alleged to have remarked: 1 This is all very fine, but it won't do—anatomy, botany. Nonsense, Sir! I know an old woman in Covent Garden who understands botany better, and as for anatomy, my butcher can dissect a joint full as well. No, young man, all this is stuff: you must go to the bedside, it is there alone you can learn disease. After this initial setback, they became firm friends, and frequently went on coach rides together. When returning from Acton, on one occasion, Sloane asked Sydenham's opinion about his proposed journey to the West Indies as Physician to the Duke of Albemarle for the purpose of studying exotic plants. Sydenham remained silent until the coach reached Green Park, where Sloane alighted. Then he retorted: No, you must not go to Jamaica; you had better drown yourself in Rosamund's Pond 2 as you go home. 3 But Sloane did make this suicidal journey, and his researches into the island's flora produced a botanical classic. Thomas Dover, who later sailed round the world on a famous privateering voyage, was one of Sydenham's pupils at the same time as Sloane. Many years later, Dover wrote a popular medical book, The Ancient Physicians Legacy (1732), wherein he published details of the powder which still bears his name. He also extolled Sydenham's methods, particularly his cooling treatment of smallpox, which had saved his own life when he caught the disease while serving his clinical apprenticeship. In the beginning I lost 22 ozs. of blood [wrote Dover]. 4 He gave me a vomit, but I find by experience a purging much better. I went abroad by his direction till I was blind, and then took to my bed. I had no fire allowed in my room, my windows were constantly open, my bedclothes were ordered to be laid no higher than my waist. He made me take 12 bottles of small beer acidulated with spirits of vitriol every 24 hours. ... I had of this Anomalous kind to a very great degree yet never lost my senses one moment. In his own practice Dover adopted an even more drastic cooling treatment, and thereby incurred the ridicule and hostility of his colleagues. 1 William Wadd, Mems, Maxims, and Memoirs (1827), p. 231. 2 Then a common place for suicides. 8 William Wadd, op. cit., p. 232. 4 Thomas Dover, The Ancient Physician's Legacy (6th ed., 1742), p. 119.