The simple solution would have been to alter the sailors’ diet, but scientists had yet to discover vitamin C and were unaware of the importance of fresh fruit in preventing scurvy. Instead, physicians proposed a whole series of other remedies. Bloodletting, of course, was always worth a try, and other treatments included the consumption of mercury paste, salt water, vinegar, sulphuric acid, hydrochloric acid or Moselle wine. Another treatment required burying the patient up to his neck in sand, which was not even very practical in the middle of the Pacific. The most twisted remedy was hard labour, because doctors observed that scurvy was generally associated with lazy sailors. Of course, the doctors had confused cause and effect, because it was scurvy that caused sailors to be lazy, rather than laziness that made sailors vulnerable to scurvy.
This array of pointless remedies meant that maritime ambitions during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries continued to be blighted by deaths from scurvy. Learned men around the world would fabricate arcane theories about the causes of scurvy and debate the merits of various cures, but nobody seemed capable of stopping the rot that was killing hundreds of thousands of sailors. Then, in 1746, there came a major breakthrough when a young Scottish naval surgeon called James Lind boarded HMS
Lind’s tour of duty took him around the English Channel and Mediterranean, and even though HMS
On 20 May Lind identified twelve sailors with similarly serious symptoms of scurvy, inasmuch as they all had ‘putrid gums, the spots and lassitude, with weakness of their knees’. He then placed their hammocks in the same portion of the ship and ensured that they all received the same breakfast, lunch and dinner, thereby establishing ‘one diet common to all’. In this way, Lind was helping to guarantee a fair test because all the patients were similarly sick, similarly housed and similarly fed.
He then divided the sailors into six pairs and gave each pair a different treatment. The first pair received a quart of cider, the second pair received twenty-five drops of elixir of vitriol (sulphuric acid) three times a day, the third pair received two spoonfuls of vinegar three times a day, the fourth pair received half a pint of sea water a day, the fifth pair received a medicinal paste consisting of garlic, mustard, radish root and gum myrrh, and the sixth pair received two oranges and a lemon each day. Another group of sick sailors who continued with the normal naval diet were also monitored and acted as a control group.
There are two important points to clarify before moving on. First, the inclusion of oranges and lemons was a shot in the dark. Although there had been a few reports of lemons relieving symptoms of scurvy as far back as 1601, late-eighteenth-century doctors would have viewed fruit as a bizarre remedy. Had the term ‘alternative medicine’ existed in Lind’s era, then his colleagues might have labelled oranges and lemons as alternative, as they were natural remedies that were not backed by a plausible theory, and thus they were unlikely to compare well against the more established medicines.
The second important point is that Lind did not include bloodletting in his trial. Although others may have felt that bloodletting was appropriate for treating scurvy, Lind was unconvinced and instead he suspected that the genuine cure would be related to diet. We shall return to the question of testing bloodletting shortly.