Sunday, August 31, 2014

Four Thieves' Vinegar

A recipe for powerful Hoodoo work, this medicinal remedy has four thousand variations. It was allegedly developed during the second wave of the Plague in Europe. I got curious about its origins and so I started looking backwards into the records of the Plague.

Here's what I discovered and the opinions that I generated.

Since there was no pharmaceutical industry as it exists now, nature was the people’s pharmacy throughout the middle ages. Plants were adopted into in use by the medical community, having borrowed such knowledge from wise pagan men and women healers.

During the second wave of the Plague in Europe, four individuals allegedly made it their business to rob the homes and very bodies of those who had died of the Plague, but did not contract the infection themselves. When questioned by the courts upon their capture, they revealed that they crafted a medicinal vinegar, which they regularly drank and wore on their clothes to protect them. To allay a sentence of execution, they revealed to the courts the recipe they used. Thus, the recipe became known as “four thieves’ vinegar.”

So horrible was the nature of the plague in Europe that any remedy effective at stopping the disease, especially if revealed to an official court of law, would have been instantly circulated, at least amongst the medical community, who would have had the influence and education to remark for history how they escaped such horrors. Here are some examples of the attempt to do just that.

In 1720, Dr. Joseph Browne published a pamphlet in London called, A Practical Treatise of the Plague. It stated intent to reveal the proper methods “used by the most learned Physicians of those Times,” to prevent the plague from spreading.

On p. 55, the author announces a section “Of Preservatives, or such Things as have Power, and are most proper, to prevent the Infection in pestilential Times.” This section is filled with a variety of herbal recipes delivered from noted most learned Physicians, and vinegar features in most. No mention of the four thieves is made.

In 1721, Parker published a pamphlet titled, The Late Dreadful Plague at Marseilles, whose subtitle indicated it was a comparison of the 1665 plague in London and professed to reveal the remedies to keep people safe. This work states several remedies of note.

Besure keep your House Fresh, Airy and moderately Cool: Strew it with Cooling Refreshing Herbs, as Roses, Violets, Rosemary, Lavender, Time, Sage, Rue, Mint, Wormwood, Sweet marjoram, etc. And Wash it often with Vinegar and Water, which is an admirable thing to Kill Damp, and Destroy the Infection – A very good preservative Breakfast in a Morning is a piece of Bread, rubbed well over with Garlick, with or without Butter; and with Rue, Sage, or Sorrel we very well with Vinegar, and laid on it, drinking after it a Glass of Sack, or good strong Drink.

Despite the primitive concept of infection of the day as a kind of foul air, it is clear from the antibacterial properties of the herbs recommended that the remedy would work to reduce the presence of surface and possibly airborne bacteria, if only with the use of vinegar, which is an effective edible disinfectant.

Further, the pamphlet states:

   The College of Physicians in their particular Directions for the Plague, which they published in the Great Sickness Year in London, 1665, by express Order of the King & Council, p. 10. ordered Persons whose Business obliged them to go Abroad, and about Streets, to WEAR and carry about them, Snake Root, Rue, Angelica, Myrrhe, Wormwood, etc.
   Also to Take Angelica, Rue, Myrrhe, and Camphire, beat these all together, and with Wax make this Mixture into round Ball, to WEAR ABOUT THEIR NECKS, to preserve from, and keep off the Infection.

It is clear that by this year, certain herbs are known as particularly helpful in making the body resistant against the infection. These herbs are similar to contemporary recipes of the vinegar, but again, no mention of the infamous thieves is made.

Daniel Defoe, in his Journal of the Plague Year, written in 1722 about the year 1665, writes of a woman who nursed the sick, but never took ill because she washed her head in vinegar, sprinkled her head-cloths with it such that they were always wet, snuffed vinegar up her nose, and held a cloth wet with vinegar to her mouth to avoid stench. Her husband avoided infection by “holding garlic and rue in his mouth” (105). Similarly, the local butcher would not take money out of the hands of his customers, preferring instead that they drop them into a bucket of vinegar.

In 1725, R. Bradley published an English translation of Noel Chommel’s work, Dictionaire Oeconomique, which the translator states on his title page was “done into English from the Second Edition, lately printed at Paris. . . .” Though the original could not be found, listings of it were found in catalogs of private libraries. It had a publish date of 1718, but also an earlier date of 1709, which could be the date of the first edition. The catalog entries did not specify their edition, either because the owner found it unnecessary information, or because the books did not have but one edition to date.

Bradley’s entry titled “Plague” includes several treatments, but in particular a passage about a preservative for “poor people,” which is called Vinegar of Ernest. It includes many of the similar ingredients, a preparation method, and dosing recommendations given in the Newcastle, 1770 recipe to follow. Here is a medicinal vinegar that does have a name but is not the one of legend. This is the only occurrence of this name I could find for this remedy.

There is also an entry for Plague Water, which is intended for horses and has a great number of herbs in its recipe.

In 1732 The Compleat City and Country Cook was published in London. It represented one of Europe’s first formal cookbooks for making food, desserts, cosmetics and medicines. Page 197 gives the recipe for “Plague Water,” which is essentially a medicinal beer that is then distilled to form an alcoholic extract. Some of the ingredients are similar to contemporary recipes. The thieves are not mentioned.

A similar recipe, but with fewer ingredients, to the one stated in Bradley’s translation above is the “Plague Water” given in the 1739 book, The Compleat Housewife (235). However, this book and its contents are intended for human consumption rather than for horses.

The herbs used in these cookbooks are similar to those already encountered in the recipes above.

In 1745, Dr. Theophilus Lobb of London published his Letters Relating to the Plague and other Contagious Distempers. Like Defoe, he notes a nurse who cared for the sick and avoided infection by washing her head and face in vinegar. When she has affected by a particularly strong odor of the sick, she snuffed vinegar into her nose and never succumbed to the disease (91-92). Similarly, there is a recommendation to wash parts of the body exposed to the air with vinegar mixed with Hungary water or Rose water (92-93). Nurses were to wash their hands with this mixture both before and after they touched the sick (165). The sides, ceiling and floor of the infirmary were to be washed with hot vinegar twice daily (156). It was further recommended that those who must handle the bodies of the dead should do so with gloves dipped in vinegar (93).

Clearly, the use of vinegar is favored over even herbs.

Incidentally, Hungary water was both a perfume and a medicine known to those in the mid seventeenth century, to be both worn and ingested. Its primary ingredient was rosemary, though some recipes also added lavender, mint, sage, marjoram, orange blossom and lemon. The addition of vinegar to Hungary water is remarkably similar to the recipe of four thieves’ vinegar. If I was a peasant, unable to purchase a preparation of Hungary water, I would attempt to make my own using wild herbs. Upon adding vinegar as recommended above, I would produce a blend very similar to four thieves’ vinegar.

An advertisement clipping cited for Saturday, October 20, 1770 of the Newcastle Courant, which began as a news publication in 1710, cites a recipe for “Thieves Vinegar.” Among the application information is instruction for snuffing up the nose and carrying a pieces of sponge dipped in the solution to be held to the mouth for frequent smelling. Newcastle is an area in northern England near the border with Scotland. If a recipe of this nature had already made its way this far north, it was surely known in London. No reference to a vinegar useful against illness is given in this newspaper prior to this listing.

In his Philosophical Magazine: Comprehending the Various Branches of Science, the Liberal and Fine Arts, Agriculture, Manufactures, and Commerce, Vol. 15 (1803), Alexander Tilloch reprints a letter written to him by William Henry regarding a scented vinegar that William’s father encountered “more than fifteen years ago . . .”. William stated that “the vinaigre des quatre voleurs had gained much reputation in obviating infection. . . .” The time of this remedy, based on the story and the book’s publish date, is roughly 1785.

In 1828, Thomas Breyerly and John Timbs edited a volume of curious blurbs about anecdotes and popular culture that had been printed to their day. Their Mirror of Literature, Amusement and Instruction, Vol. 12, included an entry about four thieves vinegar, credited to one “W. H. H.” The article points to another work published in 1749 that claims that Richard Forthave of Bishopsgate-street, London, was noted for his therapeutic vinegar, whose surname was eventually corrupted into the currently used title of the vinegar. This is the only occurrence of this claim. Despite Forthave’s alleged success with a treatment against the most noted plague to wreck Europe, no other publication bearing the name of Forthave is present, either in 1749 or 1828. In my opinion, any remedy so successful, by 1749 would have been copied and published, just as have other recipes for perfumes, food, or other remedies of the day.

Here is what I believe. Many herbal remedies existed amongst a people threatened by plague. Frequent admonishments were published against the quackery that was sold to the frightened and poorly educated faced with the prospect of dropping dead on the street. In an effort to lessen or end the rate of death, or to forward their name and Christian reputation by circulating instruction to those without an ability to purchase medical services to treat them, published works about plague remedies attempted to relay the methods of preparation and use. Those folk remedies listed above show that a common formula was known at the time, but it seems the recipe did not yet have a legend. At some point around the first half of the eighteenth century, the publishing of a common anti-plague folk formula increased the validity of its use. As publishing became more prolific, the formula became more highly circulated. The employment of legend, whether intentional or as a result of natural social interactions, helped to promote the use of the vinegar recipe. Perhaps the name of Forthave helped to inspire a tall tale in the mind of the public, perhaps not. It could be that Forthave himself added vinegar to Hungary water or a similar herbal recipe for his own production line. There is no way of knowing without more evidence.

Published evidence shows that the legend of the four Plague thieves did not begin in the fifteenth century in Auvergne; it did not begin in the seventeenth century in Toulousse. Evidence of published works shows that it did not even begin in 1720, Marseilles. These claims about the beginning of the legend are hearsay, completely unsubstantiated and most likely are myth. I applaud Graycloak for his scholarship. However, the authors of the sources he cited never should have made their claims without more solid evidence.

Monday, May 26, 2014

Obsessed with Paganism

We have all encountered obsessed Christians. (I don't write this post to be anti-Christian. The Christian doctrine of proselytization makes the obsessed, pushy kind very visible and annoying, which helps me make my point in this post.) We have all been trapped by the awkwardness of their guerrilla preaching. They have backed us into corners, trapped us at supermarket checkout lines, caught us at the mailbox or on a subway. They always have something to say about their own spirituality. The feeling I get from them is not unlike being solicited by a panhandler, except I am willing to offer my coins to one in need. For the proselytizer, I have nothing to offer but the grumpy feeling that my own faith is being insulted and belittled.

Unfortunately, that obsessed spirituality isn't unique to Christianity; in fact, it extends itself into paganism. There are those who don't just live their paganism, they obsess over it. Every trip they take is a "pilgrimage." Every chill they feel is a brush by a spirit. Every dream they have is prophetic. Every leaf that falls is a "blessing by the goddess." Everything they write is a reflection on a magickal principle. This isn't just living as a spiritually mindful person, this is excess.

And it is ANNOYING!

The best places to find these people are at pagan festivals and online pagan groups. They are easy to notice because they have very far reaching magickal names more appropriate to a Tolkien story and they always seem to be playing at the witch oneupmanship game. If you find an interesting rock that calls to you, they find a magickal amulet placed in their dreams by an alien from another dimension. Sheesh! Here are my favorite phrases about those kinds of people:
He has a crack in his cauldron.
Her broom is losing its bristles.
She's a card shy of a tarot deck.
The point on her hat is bent.
His animal totem is the March Hare.

I tend to think excessive pagans are the current age's version of the hippie. I also think they are trying to escape the complexities of the modern age by retreating into a land of pretend. Though this post was largely just my own rantings, I write it to urge everyone: please don't become one of "those witches." Excess isn't pretty, even if you are of good intention. It really just makes people appease you with a smile while they plot the best way to call the men in the white coats. AWKWARD!