TABLE OF CONTENTS
1 INTRODUCTION & BRIEF HISTORY
2 LAUDANUM IN MEDICINE
3 LAUDANUM IN LITERATURE
4 THE POISON LAUDANUM
5 POSTSCRIPT
6 BIBLIOGRAPHY
1. Introduction & Brief History
Fig. 1 Fig. 2
From the Oxford English Dictionary :
laudanum, n.
Pronunciation: /ˈlɔːdənəm/ /ˈlɒdənəm/
Forms: Also 17 lodanum, 18 dial. lodlum, Sc. lodomy.
Etymology: < modern Latin laudanum, used by Paracelsus as the name of a medicament for which he gives a pretended prescription, the ingredients comprising leaf-gold, pearls not perforated, etc. ( Opera 1658 I. 492/2). It was early suspected that opium was the real agent of the cures which Paracelsus professed to have effected by this costly means; hence the name was applied to certain opiate preparations which were sold as identical with his famous remedy.
1. In early use, a name for various preparations in which opium was the main ingredient. Now only: The simple alcoholic tincture of opium.
c1602 J. Manningham Diary (1976) 82 There is a certaine kinde of compound called Laudanum..the virtue of it is verry soveraigne to mitigate anie payne.
1643 Sir T. Browne Religio Medici (Authorized ed.) ii. §12, I need no other Laudanum than this to make me sleep.
1700 W. Salmon Pharmacopœia Bateana (ed. 2) i. vii. 267/2 It is of the Nature of other Laudanums.
1705 F. Fuller Medicina Gymnastica App. 266, I was deny'd likewise the Ease, which is to be obtain'd by Laudanum.
1739 ‘R. Bull’ tr. F. Dedekind Grobianus 166 Your Mischief, being fully done, Will make you sleep as well as Laudanum.
a1828 Lang Johnny More ix, in F. J. Child Eng. & Sc. Pop. Ballads (1892) IV. viii. 398 They..gae him draps o lodomy That laid him fast asleep.
1852 H. B. Stowe Uncle Tom's Cabin II. xxxiv. 210, I gave him laudanum, and held him close to my bosom, while he slept to death.
a1711 T. Ken Dedicat. in Wks. (1721) I. 3 Pain haunting me, I court the sacred Muse, Verse is the only Laudanum I use.
1788 G. Keate Acct. Pelew Islands xxiii. 293 The laudanum of rhetoric, whose property will occasionally benumb..the power of common understandings
The term 'laudanum' often features in various eighteenth century written texts, ranging from literature, to medical treatises, to journalistic articles and many more. The primary use of laudanum was medical: the treatment of head-aches, fever and asthma (an 'extraordinary' remedy, as noted in "The Extraordinary Effect of Laudanum"). However, given its addictive nature, and its drowsing effect, many have indulged in laudanum more often than medically required (its excessive effects noted in "On the Immoderate Use of Laudanum", where it is described as a 'slow poison', and having 'broken' the user's 'constitution'). Moreover, a great enough dose of laudanum could prove fatal, although slow-acting: this poisonous use employed, for instance, with the purpose of murder (James Moulds, 28th August 1741) or, suicide (Johnathan Wild, 24th May 1725). What is perhaps most interesting about laudanum is the manner in which it has been rigorously researched and experimented with: numerous accounts display astonishment and incredulity at its seemingly miraculous effects and potential to recover a patient. Nevertheless, there are also other issues with the opiate, besides those mentioned above: laudanum being produced from opium, the latter must possess certain qualities, otherwise the tincture will do more harm than good (Jones, 299). What is clear, however, is that laudanum played an important part in eighteenth century life, and its roles in medicine and literature are worthy of exploration.
Laudanum is originally invented by the Austrian scientist Paracelsus in 1520 as a solution of opium alkaloids in alcohol. However, there is little mention of Paracelsus in the English texts of the period, with the exception of John Jones's The Mysteries of Opium Reveal'd : 'Paracelsus says, that Tam homini quam Morbo somnum conciliat; that is, that it puts the disease asleep, as well as the man. Platerius cured the Gout with it safely, quickly, and pleasantly, and I know one that can do it, especially if it be at the first coming of the fit. Willis gives an Instance of one perfectly cured of a dropsie and pocky pains by the use of laudanum. Horstius perfectly cured an hypochondriacal person that was troubled with stupidity watchings, loss of appetite, trembling, and direful epileptical convulsions, and past all hopes, by the use of opiates.' (275)
Fig. 3
Laudanum reaches mainstream popularity in England in 1680, when Thomas Sydenham devises his own blend of laudanum in pill form. However, possibly the first English source to mention laudanum is Sir Kenelm Digby's Chymical secrets and rare experiments in physick & philosophy (1683), where the author details the process of preparing opium pills. (266, Fig. 3). He writes, "take Opium, dissolve it in distilled vinegar, then filter and evaporate to the consistence of a mass for pills: then take black Hellebore, reduce it to a subtle powder, which put into a mantrass, and pour upon it so much distilled vinegar as will cover it the breadth of four fingers; digest for two days, then evaporate with a gentle heat to the consistence of the pills etc". Digby later remarks that "these pills are approved of, and are prescribed, and used by the best physicians, in consumptions and in other cases". With the receipt readily available, the process of composition not particularly difficult to follow and the fact that laudanum could be sold without prescription during the 18th century, the medicine quickly became a sort of phenomenon, with numerous attestations of its benefits.
2. Laudanum in Medicine
Since the production of laudanum is chiefly based on opium, a few words on the latter are in order. Taken from An Essay on the Effects of Opium, Considered as Poison (numbering mine):
1. The production of opium is from the fruits or seed-vessels of the poppy-plants, commonly called the heads; they are gathered while green, which (the seeds being taken out) are bruised and pressed. The juice thus collected from them is dried to a substance, which being wrapped in leaves, is formed into balls or lumps, generally under a pound weight, and in that form transported to all the markets of Europe. (7)
2. Though it is a received opinion, that opium, with us, and other countries where not manufactured, has not near the strength of that used by the people where it grows; yet in Turkey they can venture to take it in larger quantities; and hence it is manifest, that the effects would be more pernicious amongst them, if they did not use it in a most pure state; and though habit might conduce to the constitution bearing it in much larger doses, than we in England dare give it, yet certainly the constant use of it, unless when of a most fine texture of parts, must sooner prove hurtful, than the immoderate and constant drinking of wines, and spirits; (7-8)
3. The ancient accounts of the manner of gathering opium was, according to Diascorides, by the milky juice being collected from time to time, that distilled from the wounded head of the poppy; thus gathered, it is entirely pure, and being taken, gives no disagreeable sensation to the stomach. This extract being almost wholly volatile, immediately enters into action, and discharges itself by perspiration, opening the pores, and refining the spirits, without any attendant injury; and daily experience will convince every one who will put it to the trial, that the purer the opium, in the greater quantity it may be taken, unattended with nausea, vertigo, and tremor, which are so often the consequences of it with us, though used in small doses. Tournefort, page 292, Materiae Medicae, informs us, that opium, or laudanum, does not only pass off freely by perspiration, but cures those distempers arising from obstructions of the organs of respiration in hot countries, without any inconvenience whatever, which cannot be said of it, in such cases, in England, though assisted with volatile and cordial medicines. This seems a palpable Contradiction to the opinion of Doctor Jones, who says, that opium may be taken in much larger doses in cold, than in hot climates. (9)
These paragraphs provide a basic foundation to understand how opium is gathered, as well as some initial speculative opinions on its effects. I want to draw attention to the comparison between alcohol and opium (2nd paragraph) which is almost always present when discussing opium: with the advent of opium, alcohol becomes less relevant and less used as a pain-killer, the mixture of laudanum taking its place in medical settings. Consuming opium is often contrasted to consuming alcohol, and the former is generally held as having more benefits (very evident in De Quincey's novel, for instance). Also, there are many detailed accounts throughout 18th century written sources, on how laudanum affects all sorts of distempers. It is worthwhile to address some of them, to further understand not only the fascination of physicians, but also that of an entire society, with regard to a miracle-cure which would prove helpful for various, distinct circumstances and ailments.
GOUT. In a comprehensive article, titled Advice to People Afflicted with the Gout, the author condones the use of laudanum beside other methods of treatment, to lessen pain. He advises mixing 'essence of antimony' with 'liquid laudanum', arguing that the mixture is doubly-beneficial: the laudanum 'takes off, in some measure, the violent stimulus of the antimony', but 'the antimony corrects the narcotic quality of the laudanum' as well. This treatment should be continued until pain ceases from the affected parts ('even if it should be for five or six weeks'), and the laudanum also helps in counter-acting the negative effects of mercury.
COUGH. In A treatise of opium founded on practical observations, the author attempts to make known various effects of laudanum and opium to the general public. It is chiefly concerned with the 'soporific' quality of opium, and 'many of the observations were made by the doctor on himself'. As a treatment for cold, which often induces coughing, the doctor would take 20 drops of laudanum at bedtime and wake up the next morning cured ('after a good night's rest'). If the cough returned in the afternoon, the same treatment would ensue. It's worth mentioning what happens when the dose is increased: 'On taking 30 drops, the drowsiness was longer, his face a little swelled, his skin hotter and drier, tho' sometimes a gentle sweat came on, his tongue was whitish, and his breast bound, till the effects of the opiate ceased'. Other consequences of a same dose proved to be hoarseness, difficult breathing and the spitting of blood, even though the cough would be abated. 40 drops, moreover, stopped for an hour a cough considered 'catarrhous', but at greater cost: 'great hoarseness, a noise in his ears, and giddiness and confusion of the head followed. He fell asleep, but soon waked with startings; and a sense of faintness or failing about the heart often seized him on dropping to sleep. The following evening he nearly lost the sense of feeling in his legs, and tho' free from the cough, a spasmodic asthma ensued, with many nervous symptoms, notwithstanding he had endeavoured to expel the opium the evening before, by a vomit of white vitriol.'
MELANCHOLIA. MANIA. HYSTERIA. NERVOUS DISORDERS. From the same article quoted above, one can learn how to "cure" (or, more accurately, lessen) such "diseases". There are accounts of two individuals afflicted with 'melancholia' and 'religious melancholy', respectively. The first 'took six grains of opium in one night, slept profoundly, and sweat much and long with it', but was eventually cured within eight days. However, one cannot be certain that this was the exact cure, since the individual, 'without the doctor's advice, plunged into the cold bath', and that might have also helped. The second individual almost killed himself with 'some great, tho' unknown, dose of laudanum', but he recovered, and the melancholy state persisted. The conclusion drawn is that opium fails 'where the pulse is slow, and is prejudicial to those disposed to be outrageous', because he later states that there is 'no refreshment equal to that from an opiate', after 'fatigue from immoderate exercise'. 'Four grains of opium, and nothing else' is affirmed to be the cure for a woman suffering from mania, but with regard to 'hysterical and nervous disorders', the doctor cannot offer a definite account. 'He thinks it possible, that a very large dose might avail in hysteric fits or spasms, which a moderate one might increase', but he 'can say nothing conclusive on this head from experience'. Sometimes the cure 'works like a charm', sometimes it proves detrimental. Another account states the 'efficacy of opium in a nervous asthma, attended with great difficulty of breathing, but without defluxion or expectoration', even though the doctor cannot particularly say why the opium cured her, but that 'it did without any sensible evacuation'.
HEAD-ACHE. In October 1780, an excerpt on how to treat head-ache was published in The Edinburgh Magazine. It highlighted the effects of drinking coffee after taking eighteen drops of laudanum. The physician affirms that, at first, he 'drank three dishes of very strong coffee', and afterwards tried to fall asleep. However, while the coffee helped ameliorate and eventually remove the pain altogether, he could not manage to sleep. The second attempt provided precisely the same results. The third test was performed without drinking the coffee, and the effects were to be expected: the doctor fell asleep almost immediately, but his head-ache was not cured. A conclusion to be drawn was that coffee and laudanum do, indeed, have counteracting effects, but it is interesting to notice how, even though the laudanum managed to lull the patient to sleep, the coffee proved more therapeutic in the end.
VARIOUS DISEASES AND MALADIES. FEVER. AGUE. In A Treatise on Tropical Diseases, Dr Moseley recommends a sequential method of curing dysentery, treating it as 'a fever of the intestines, caused by obstructed perspiration'. His method involves bleeding, vomit to relieve the stomach from impurities, after which 'an opiate is necessary'. This is followed by a cautious emptying of the bowels, after which 'the disease may be thrown off by sweat: this will be effected by uniting an opiate with a diaphoretic, and administering it as occasion requires'. As noted in other instances, laudanum is used to combat certain other unpleasant effects of other medicines: 'It is always necessary in the flux, when a sweat is intended by antimonial, or other emetic medicines, in small doses, to add laudanum, to take off their irritation, by which means their doses and effects may be greatly extended'. A few drops of laudanum are also recommended occasionally, at bed-time. Concerning ague and other feverish states, there is an extraordinary account of a child of only three years old, who, after taking fifteen drops of laudanum when other remedies had failed, was cured for good. (from Cure of a double Tertian Ague). Laudanum is also recommended in treating colic: 'take rhubarb, cream of tartar, licorish, coriander seeds, powder all these very fine; take half a dram night and morning in a glass of wine, or take black-cherry-water, mint-water, of each two ounces, strong cinnamon-water, liquid laudanum twenty drops; take this at night, going to bed. (from The ancient physician's legacy to his country, p24).
3. Laudanum in Literature
In 18th century literature, laudanum is often mentioned for its chief sleep-inducing properties. As a poetical device, it allows poets to produce metaphors and similes concerning not only social topics (who would partake in laudanum, disdain for contemporary medical practices etc), but also more personal themes which can affect the individual, such as lethargy and anxiety. During the later part of the 18th century, some authors, aware of an individual's need to escape pain, or to find refuge in troubled times, have developed the term 'laudanum' to signify a transition between lucid and dream-like states, where the treatment becomes not only a temporary cure for physical pain, but also one for spiritual, emotional or psychological afflictions. As 18th century society becomes more understanding of the consequences following the use of laudanum, so do the literary minds, and this can be seen clearly in their writings (compare the early poems pre-dating the 18th century to the later writings after a century).
Chronologically, the first literary texts to mention laudanum come from the late second half of the 17th century. Even though most allusions are not very direct, they are of use when understanding the role of laudanum in 18th century society. The following is taken from John Oldham's A Satyr, In Imitation of the Third of JUVENAL , May 1682:
405 If this you scape, twenty to one, you meet
406 Some of the drunken Scowrers of the Street,
407 Flush'd with success of warlike Deeds perform'd,
408 Of Constables subdu'd, and Brothels storm'd:
409 These, if a Quarrel, or a Fray be mist,
410 Are ill at ease a nights, and want their Rest.
411 For mischief is a Lechery to some,
412 And serves to make them sleep like Laudanum .
This paragraph uses 'laudanum' not only as an almost perfect rhyme to 'some', but also displays its painkilling capacities. Discussing the 'drunken Scrowrers of the Street', the poet compares the 'mischief' of these misfits to the medicine, arguing that such vice-ridden characters cannot sleep well unless their immoral necessities of the day are fulfilled. The sleeping power of laudanum can make even the wicked rest: sleep becomes a healer, and laudanum the perfect treatment.
The following from Richard Ames, The FATAL Friendship &c , 1693:
266 All Doctors Slops he hates, and cannot think
267 There can be any Opiate like Drink ;
268 And that good Claret , or some other Wine ,
269 Sooner and better does to rest incline,
270 Then Laudanum , or other Anodyne :
Similarly to the previous passage, laudanum is invoked in a comparison involving rest, or sleep. Here, though, an evident distaste for medicine and doctors is present, and, at the same time, the painkilling attributes of alcohol are weighted against that of laudanum. The phrase 'sooner and better' suggests that using laudanum (or any other Anodyne - a name for medicine which allays pain) has a less pleasant effect than drinking does, implying the often associated-with lethargy. However, medical records / treatises suggest that laudanum does act quickly in welcoming sleep, so the 'sooner' is rather inaccurate. Nonetheless, it is important to also consider such a perspective: one opposed to laudanum (and similar medication), which develops the idea that laudanum was not always the most approved-of treatment for pain and insomnia.
The following from Sir Samuel Garth, The Dispensary, 1714:
59 I oft dispatch'd the Patient in a Day:
60 With Pen in Hand I push'd to that degree,
61 I scarce had left a Wretch to give a Fee.
62 Some fell by Laudanum , and some by Steel ,
63 And Death in Ambush lay in ev'ry Pill.
64 For save or slay, this Privilege we claim,
65 Tho' Credit suffers, the Reward's the same.
Again, another literary use for the medical purpose of laudanum, employed in a physician's speech. What is different from the other passages here is that the speaker is acquiescing the potentially harmful effects of Laudanum ('death in ev'ry pill'), although it can be argued that this can be the effect of any medicine taken recklessly or without moderation. An aspect worthy to keep in mind is that laudanum is suggested to be easy to produce/acquire, if this particular doctor provides it without 'a fee' to almost any 'wretch' (denotes poverty) who seeks it.
The following from Mary Wollstonecraft, The Wrongs of Woman, 1798:
"Divorced by her husband---Her lover unfaithful---Pregnancy---Miscarriage ---Suicide.[...] She swallowed the laudanum; her soul was calm---the tempest had subsided--- and nothing remained but an eager longing to forget herself---to fly from the anguish she endured to escape from thought---from this hell of disappointment. "Still her eyes closed not---one remembrance with frightful velocity followed another---All the incidents of her life were in arms, embodied to assail her, and prevent her sinking into the sleep of death.-- Her murdered child again appeared to her, mourning for the babe of which she was the tomb. " (162)
Here the use of laudanum is all but medicinal. Notice the number of unfortunate circumstances which have happened to the character in question, mentioned in the first line. One might argue that she 'swallows' the laudanum (implying an impulsive action) in an attempted suicide, given that no amount of drops or measurements are specified. Nevertheless, this allows the author to enter a trance-like state, where not only the body is lethargic, but also the 'soul is calm', and the 'tempest' of lucidity is gone. Laudanum serves as a literary device to allow introspection, conjuring up all sorts of images which could be possible only in dreams or hallucinations ('her murdered child', for instance). Moreover, it allows the depiction of a stream of consciousness, as a flux of unstoppable memories surges through the character's mind ('one remembrance with frightful velocity followed another'). These hallucinations are also powerful, as they seem to counteract the sleep often drawn from Laudanum ('prevent her sinking into the sleep of death', 'her eyes closed not'). The conclusion to be taken from such a display is that not only does laudanum offer escape from lucidity and the troubles of reality ('to fly... to escape from thought'), but that it can paradoxically also cause visions and introspection so strong that the longed for sleep can never come.
CONFESSIONS OF AN ENGLISH - OPIUM EATER
Fig. 4, First published edition, 1822
As people in the eighteenth century grew more and more aware of effects of opium, so did the literary accounts of the substance tend towards depicting opium (and laudanum) with more emphasis on its usage as a tool for escape or introspection, rather than its original medical purpose. Several notable writers would take opium to enhance their creative powers; the most famous is probably Coleridge:
In the summer of the year 1797, the author, then in ill health, had retired to a lonely farmhouse between Porlock and Linton, on the Exmoor confines of Somerset and Devonshire. In consequence of a slight indisposition, an anodyne had been prescribed, from the effects of which he fell asleep in his chair at the moment that he was reading the following sentence, or words of the same substance, in Purchas's Pilgrimage: "Here the Khan Kubla commanded a palace to be built, and a stately garden thereunto. And thus ten miles of fertile ground were inclosed with a wall." The author continued for about three hours in a profound sleep, at least of the external senses, during which time he has the most vivid confidence that he could not have composed less than from two to three hundred lines; if that indeed can be called composition in which all the images rose up before him as things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness of effort.
(preface to "Kubla Khan")
Very much alike the previous passage from The Wrongs of Woman, the account presents the author in his state after consuming opium, as he is prone to the deprivation of 'external senses' and vision ('all the images rose up before him as things [...] without effort'). 'Vivid' is also a very odd adjective to tie to one's confidence, but it can explain the power and sheer colour of such visions. More intriguing, however, is how he notes that these images and visions, the whole of his slumbering experience, was continuously being tied to 'correspondent expressions' in an inexplicable manner. These hallucinations were not mere phantasms per se, but also bore with them personal implications, verbal and non-verbal, which could later be transcribed into a written poem. This process of creation might not seem different from that of other authors who would use alcohol as means of intoxication and inspiration, but it really is. The sheer precision (recall also the lucid aspect of the previous literary paragraph) with which Coleridge is able to make sense of his hallucinations is something which must be attributed solely to the consumption of opium, as De Quincey himself relates in his work, first published anonymously in 1821.
The Confessions of an English Opium - Eater solidifies the fact that, by the end of the 18th century and the beginning of the 19th century, opium was still interesting to explore. Moreover, this particular book was a booming success at the date of its publication; since so many people found reason to both appreciate it and condemn it for the narrator's nonchalant excessive indulgence in opium, it is evident that the subject was still very much in the mainstream (also obvious from the numerous reprints and various editions). What makes this account different from others, is that it is the only account which approaches the topic of opium with a disregarded for the masses and its communal use: it presents the narrator's very personal experiences with opium, without alluding much to the experiences of other people. In this perspective, it is very intimate, and oftentimes meant to be taken at face value, as the narrator states:
TO THE READER. - I here present you, courteous reader, with the record of a remarkable period in my life: according to my application of it, I trust that it will prove, not merely an interesting record, but, in a considerable degree, useful and instructive. (1)
What follows is an account which highlights both positive and negative effects concerning opium and laudanum, also. The narrative is divided into several parts, which concern periods in the narrator's life: Preliminary Confessions, about his years of youth and his experiences before becoming acquainted with opium, and The Pleasures of Opium, followed by The Pains of Opium (some later editions include an Appendix as well). This manner of structuring the narrative, accompanied by the generally seductive and persuasive language De Quincey's narrator employs, allows any reader to understand the addiction with as little prejudice as possible: by presenting his initial condition before encountering opium, then its positive and negative effects respectively, the author unveils a story which could be anyone's, for all intents and purposes. This is possibly the most comprehensive work to discuss opium addiction, because it does so by assuming that the reader is willing to accept the full scope of the narrator's circumstances.
It is relevant to understand how widespread the narrator makes opium to be at the beginning of the 19th century, which is but a logical consequence of an 18th century society which has discovered the full scope of medical use for laudanum, and is now experimenting with the drug for prolonged, recreational use. To signify this, De Quincey notes that eminent people would also use opium (lords, deans, philosophers - 5), as an argument to prove wrong naysayers who would deride opium-eaters. Moreover, consider:
Three respectable London druggists, in widely remote quarters of London, from whom I happened lately to be purchasing small quantities of opium, assured me, that the number of amateur opium-eaters (as I may term them) was, at this time, immense; and that the difficulty of distinguishing these persons, to whom habit had rendered opium necessary, from such as were purchasing it with a view to suicide, occasioned them daily trouble and disputes. (5-6)
Beside the 'immense' number, there is the new notion of 'habit' to be considered: basically, this is 'addiction' in a nicer set of words. While this is not unheard of in the 18th century, the reader is led to believe that the amount of habitual laudanum consumers in that period was not particularly 'immense' by any means. To talk of a society, or a group of people, who require opium to function on a day-to-day basis is to imply several things at once, which are also discussed in the remainder of the quoted paragraph: an increase in demand for opium, a decrease in demand for alcohol (opium is cheaper), but, most important, a sort of communal lethargy which is to be expected, but not mentioned by the narrator. Obviously, such practice of habitual consumption is dangerous for the long-term future of any society, but De Quincey's account argues on its behalf and tries to make it sound much more enticing than it should be. The distinction between this lot, and those who would commit suicide from laudanum or opium poisoning is also mentioned as being rather difficult to perceive, but more on this is the LAUDANUM AS POISON section.
De Quincey also addresses those who would mock and scorn such opium eaters as his narrator:
I have been often asked, how I first came to be a regular opium-eater; and have suffered, very unjustly, in the opinion of my acquaintance, from being reputed to have brought upon myself all the sufferings which I shall have to record, by a long course of indulgence in this practice purely for the sake of creating an artificial state of pleasurable excitement. This, however, is a misrepresentation of my case. True it is, that for nearly ten years I did occasionally take opium, for the sake of the exquisite pleasure it gave me: [...] It was not for the purpose of creating pleasure, but of mitigating pain in the severest degree, that I first began to use opium as an article of daily diet. (8-9)
This pain was stomach ache, and indeed, the use of opium did lessen its degree. This paragraph brings into question a fundamental relationship to be found throughout the narrative: that between the addiction and the addict. While the looker-on, or the critic will superficially label the addiction's only goal the 'creation of an artificial state of pleasurable excitement' , the addict knows this is only a consequence. The peril of opium is that even though it is initially used to treat symptoms (i.e. it is improbable that opium addiction stems from the mere curiosity of trying opium without any medical purpose whatsoever), it proves highly enticing because of its capacities of generating 'exquisite pleasure', which is unique, if the narrator's further accounts are believable. The point is that anyone who is treating themselves with opium is liable to this sort of addiction, and this should not be taken as a single incident or subjective view, but as an objective truth meant to raise awareness with regard to the dangers of opium addiction (this is also the main point of the entire narrative, though critics and readers alike may wrongly interpret the book as an exclusive homage to opium).
The narrator also argues the power of laudanum, while discussing the toxicity of opium:
It is not so much affirmed as taken for granted, by all who ever mention opium, formally or incidentally, that it does, or can produce, intoxication. Now reader, assure yourself, meo periculo, that no quantity of opium ever did, or could intoxicate. As of the tincture of opium (commonly called laudanum), that might certainly intoxicate if a man could bear to take enough of it; but why? because it contains so much proof spirit, and not because it contains so much opium. But crude opium, I affirm peremptorily, is incapable of producing; any state of body at all resembling that which is produced by alcohol; and not in degree only incapable, but even in kind: it is not in the quantity of its effects merely, but in the quality, that it differs altogether. [...] But the main distinction lies in this, that whereas win disorders the mental faculties, opium, on the contrary (if taken in a proper manner), introduces amongst them the most exquisite order, legislation and harmony. Wine robs a man off his self-possession: opium greatly invigorates it. (46)
Beside the distinction between opium and spirits, which the narrator keeps comparing throughout the novel (praising opium as a great alternative to this other famous and widespread indulgence in alcohol) , he presents laudanum in this passage as a sufficient blending of the two. Despite this initial warning of laudanum's toxicity, the narrator affirms in his later stages of addiction that he would consume an exaggerated 'eight thousand drops of laudanum' per day (65), which, if any serious medical treaty is to be believed, would prove undoubtedly fatal (" a dose exceeding three grains, may be truly pronounced to be of dangerous and poisonous consequence", from Awsiter). This sort of exaggeration on the narrator's part is no singular occurrence, but throughout his years of addiction, he mentions numerous times his daily intakes, varying on the stage of his addiction (more at its apex, less as the narrator is trying to shake off the habit), and most of these, even those when he is attempting to lessen the daily dose, consist of abnormal numbers of drops and grains. Through these overstatements, De Quincey manages to elevate his narrator's addiction to something out of the ordinary, even to the habitual user of opium.
Some of the positive qualities he attributes to opium, beside those already mentioned of elevating the mind, the narrator also attributes the finding of happiness to his use of opium and laudanum, and discusses this concept as if he were, indeed, a high authority on the subject:
But I, who have taken happiness, both in a solid and a liquid shape, both boiled and unboiled, both East India and Turkey -- who have conducted experiments upon this interesting subject with a sort of galvanic battery -- and have, for the general benefit of the world, inoculated myself, as it were, with the poison of 8000 drops of laudanum per day (just, for the same reason, as a French surgeon inoculated himself lately with cancer -- an English one, twenty years ago, with plague -- and a third, I know not of what nation, with hydrophobia), I (it will be admitted) must surely know what happiness is, if any body does. [...] I will here lay down an analysis of happiness; and as the most interesting mode of communicating it, I will give it, not didactically, but wrapt up and involved in a picture of one evening, as I spent every evening during the intercalary year when laudanum, though taken daily, was to me no more than the elixir of pleasure. (65)
It is obvious that happiness is quite a subjective concept: what makes someone happy might not be applicable to another individual. Nevertheless, the narrator asserts that he 'must surely know what happiness is, if any body does'. This statement has multiple meanings. First, consider the fact that the narrator has 'taken happiness' in all shapes and manners: for him, happiness equals opium, nothing less, nothing more. When others would find happiness in social standings, wealth, or love, the narrator is adamant that happiness is opium, and not the ensuing mood or state its consumption leaves him in, which is a sad irony, because he follows this passage with an overly-detailed description of what happiness would mean if transposed into a describable landscape. From this, one might argue that if happiness was originally a consequence of opium intake (as it is also described here), the notion of happiness is now transformed into the act of taking opium, and satisfying the addiction: it is a sound interpretation to consider these the words of an addict primarily, and only after consider them as the words of a philosopher, or experimenter. No matter how seductive the narrator's language is, the reader must not be fooled and notice this one-dimensional judgement of happiness. Secondly, by elevating himself above everyone else, the narrator is furthering a process which is always present in The Confessions: that of installing himself as the best authority on opium and its effects, which, while very credible and acceptable at the same time, is leaving the reader little freedom of choice. If this is happiness, then, surely, it is worth any price to be paid in The Pains of Opium. Bluntly speaking, this is a paragraph in which an addict is trying desperately to persuade his reader not to understand him (though he does this in other circumstances throughout the novel), but to share in his addiction. Moreover, from that initial statement, the narrator further implies that if that were not happiness, then nobody else knows what happiness is: further persuading and condoning the use of opium as a means of achieving this happiness, through daily doses of that 'elixir of pleasure'. These are the frequent problems with the entire account, until the moments when the pains of opium become visible and the narrator addresses them sternly enough to counter-balance this charming invitation that the reader should consume opium.
The previous paragraphs should be enough to highlight the importance of De Quincey's work, as well as shed more light on laudanum and its addictive nature. Nevertheless, a last, brief account of The Pains of Opium should be mentioned: these are the consequences the narrator faces after his long period of excess. Beside influencing his dreams in various manners (the narrator makes it seem as if the boundary between reality and dream becomes blurred, see page 76), the narrator also discusses his lethargic state at length:
I have thus described and illustrated my intellectual torpor, in terms that apply, more or less, to every part of the four years during which I was under the Circean spells of opium. But for misery and suffering, I might, indeed, be said to have existed in a dormant state. I seldom could prevail on myself to write a letter; an answer of a few words, to any that I received, was the utmost that I could accomplish; and often that not until the letter had lain weeks, or even months, on my writing table. Without the aid of M. all records of bills paid, or to be paid, must have perished: and my whole domestic economy, whatever became of Political Economy, must have gone into irretrievable confusion. --- I shall not afterwards allude to this part of the case: it is one, however, which the opium-eater will find, in the end, as oppressive and tormenting as any other, from the sense of incapacity and feebleness, from the direct embarrassments incident to the neglect or procrastination of each day's appropriate duties, and from the remorse which must often exasperate the stings of these evils to a reflective and conscientious mind. The opium-eater loses none of his moral sensibilities, or aspirations. [...] but his intellectual apprehension of what is possible infinitely outruns his power, not of execution only, but even of power to attempt. He lies under the weight of incubus and night-mare: he lies in sight of all that he would fain perform, just as a man forcibly confined to his bed by the mortal langour of a relaxing disease, who is compelled to witness injury or outrage offered to some object of his tenderest love: --- he curses the spells which chain him down from motion: --- he would lay down his life if he might but get up and walk; but he is powerless as an infant, and cannot even attempt to rise. (74)
It is useful to have this paragraph in its entirety, because it stresses what should be broadly considered the chief deficiency of prolonged opium usage: the feeling of uselessness. Notice how the narrator suggests that even the most menial tasks such as writing letters or paying bills become bothersome to him, and, therefore, he does not pay very much attention to them. The whole quotation is teeming with lethargy, confusion and a profound sense of impotence ('incapacity', 'feebleness'). This produces a vicious circle of 'torments', because the narrator finds such 'procrastination' shameful and 'embarrassing'. Most alarming is, however, the lack of desire to pursue aspirations, noted in the second half of the paragraph. He insists that, even though one's goals are still in view, and are not 'lost', his lethargy is greater than the power to even 'attempt' the reaching of these goals. What is left is a 'diseased man', which is ironic, because laudanum was originally intended to prevent disease! Nevertheless, recall the manner in which the narrator discussed the large numbers of'amateur opium-eaters' in a previous paragraph. If any society would indulge thus in opium, it would irremediably falter: since no individual would be able to perform even the most banal 'daily duties', such a society is doomed to collapse sooner rather than later; and even though a prospect of futurity and aspiration still exists, the sheer impotence generated from prolonged indulgence would always impede such a society to prosper. This skillful argument is perhaps the best De Quincey has to offer against mass opium consumption: it would inevitably bring about the downfall of any society, through lethargy, and a lack of desire to act on almost anything.
4. LAUDANUM AS POISON
Fig. 5
Even before the publication of De Quincey's novel, people did possess some empiric knowledge of the negative effects of laudanum. This is proven, again, by numerous articles and essays, of which I cite "An Essay on the Effects of Opium" as a more comprehensive account. The poisonous nature of laudanum also transforms the latter into a means of murder and suicide. Before delving into these accounts, several points must be made clear through the essay mentioned above:
It is a natural supposition [..] that the original use of opium [..] was first introduced to dissipate anxieties, pains, and perturbations of the mind, which appears not unlike the us of intoxicating drinks, so much requested in Europe. Labours of mind and body in every person's life, being somewhat considerable, a temporary relief becomes indispensably necessary. (3)
From the ease it affords to the pains of mind and body, Opium obtained the name of Laudanum, derived from the Latin Laudabilis, or Laudatum; yet, though it has this property of easing anxieties and torments of the most excruciating diseases, the constant use of it should be rejected, as it will impair the memory, destroy the appetite, bring on a stupor, and by relaxation, weaken the whole frame. That it impairs the nerves is manifest, for applied to the ear, to ease pain, it may cause deafness; to the nostrils to stop an haemorrhage, loss of smelling; and however applied, whether internally or externally, (unless very sparingly) it will benumb the part most immediately in contact with it. (6)
The general effects of opium are as follow:
First symptoms: heat & weight at the stomach, extravagance of spirit, violent laughter, giddiness, headache, loss of memory, dead look of the eyes, imperfect speech, drowsiness, slow and full pulse, short and quick breathing, nausea and an extremely florid complexion..
More violent symptoms: itching of the skin, madness, vertigo, vomiting, hickups, heavy and dead sleep, unequal pulse, contraction of the jaw, convulsions, profuse sweats, universal relaxation, faintings, coldness of the extreme parts, lastly, a cold breath, a certain indication of death. (22)
The poison acts differently upon different bodies, in proportion to the strength or weakness of the subject, the time it has been taken, whether upon a full or empty stomach, before or after plentiful eating or drinking; and indeed, through these circumstances, the power of it is so much varied, that they cannot be too particularly attended to. The quantity taken should be known as nearly as possible, if in a solid or liquid state, and whether the party ever was habituated to the use of this drug. (29)
This account traces opium from its original purposes, which is similar to that of 'intoxicating drinks', in the sense that it produces 'a temporary relief', assumed 'indispensable' in a tumultuous 18th century society. Moreover, the powers of laudanum are noted to 'benumb the part most immediately in contact with it', proving a useful criminal tool for impairing another person's senses, even if the ultimate purpose is not murder. The author also goes through a number of symptoms, ranging from an initial giddiness to much more macabre consequences, such as 'a cold breath' and 'a certain indication of death': there can be no doubt that, used as poison in excessive quantities, laudanum would, in fact, prove to be the cause of death. It is also important to notice the insistence on the particulars of the person taking laudanum. When employed as a weapon, obviously, the more laudanum used, the likelier the chance of success; however, should the victim be acquainted with laudanum (think back to the excessive amounts De Quincey's narrator ingests, though fictional), complications might arise when the dose is insufficient to kill. Furthermore, if used with the purpose to cure, should the dose not be taken with regard to these particulars ('full or empty stomach', 'strength or weakness' etc), the medicine might provoke more ill than good. Therefore, the meticulous handling of the substance cannot be exaggerated.
MURDER. The efficiency of laudanum as poison is demonstrated in one James Moulds's case in 1741, where the prisoner is accused of having mixed 'a great quantity of laudanum' with the victim's liquor. The latter, as a consequence, 'was render'd sick and distemper'd', and dies slowly over the course of several days. However, because the laudanum does not have any visible effect on the drink, and also because witnesses had also drunk of the liquor without any ills, the evidence gathered is inconclusive. If, in fact, Moulds's did kill Edward Stone by this method, the untraceable nature of laudanum helps him walk free. Similarly, in 1756, James Clowes is acquitted after being accused with 'the wilful murder of Sarah Wheeler, by mixing a certain quantity of laudanum in the liquor which she drank'. The verdict comes after a long narrative gathered through many witnesses, who claim, in repeated instances, no traces of violence or wrongdoing on the victim's body, and some even find themselves uncertain in pronouncing that the woman was dead. Again, if Clowes were guilty, it is because of his method, which left no evidence behind. An instance where the prisoner does not escape is the case of George Price, 1738. Having murdered his children with laudanum, he states that 'they died nothing but a natural death', which would have been impossible to disprove, if not for the written evidence found in his correspondence.
Fig. 6. Last plate of Hogarth's Marriage a la Mode, depicting the Countess who takes her life with an overdose of laudanum.
SUICIDE. In several cases, the prisoner's use of laudanum is not to murder another, but for suicide. For instance, in 1806, one Elizabeth Cruldrock, takes laudanum after being caught in the act of theft, afterwards affirming that 'she had destroyed herself'. Luckily, assistance is offered immediately and the culprit survives, though imprisoned for her theft. Moreover, the act of taking laudanum with the purpose of killing one's self is seen as obviously deranged, and used as argument when disputing a prisoner's state of mind. In the case of Hannah Leefever, in 1806 as well, the woman's state of mind is questioned. Though various witnesses vouch for her being 'deranged', a key factor in some of their confessions is that the prisoner would take 'poison' as laudanum, thus being a danger to herself. Despite the fact that these incidents with laudanum happened years before the trial ('seventeen years ago'), they remain good enough evidence to condemn the accused. Another example of similar arguments for madness can be found in a trial from 1762. Joshua Marshall, is accused of firing a gun and wounding a woman, but the victim accounts that the accused was not in his senses, and the gun going off was not with malicious intent. About his sanity, the victim remarks that the prisoner had suicidal tendencies, having tried to slit his wrists and consume laudanum. An ulterior witness confirms he had been in a madhouse for the past five months, tying together, again, the idea that the use of laudanum for self-harm was considered mad in 18th century society.
5. Postscript
Though laudanum as medicine gradually fell out of use in favour of newer, safer medical practices, its presence in literature persisted, a presence strongly influenced by De Quincey's novel. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, for instance, directly alludes to De Quincey in the very first lines of The Man with the Twisted Lip (1891). Tom Clark, an American contemporary poet, uses a poem entitled "Laudanum" to explore an archetypal romantic melancholy (from Junkets on a Sad Planet: Scences from the Life of John Keats, 1994). Another 20th century American poet, Harvey Shapiro, mentions laudanum in "The Ticket", a short poem which deals with modern relief from mental illness (from Selected Poems, 1994). What laudanum stood for in 18th century texts is adapted to suit the current age, but laudanum's core, poetic qualities (medium of escape, introspection etc) are still there.
6. Bibliography
Aswiter, John. An Essay on the Effects of Opium, Considered as a Poison. London. Printed for G. Kearsly. 1763. Web. <https://archive.org/details/essayoneffectsof00awsi > - click the "fullscreen view" on the right side of the screen -
Very important resource for many opium related topics, such as gathering, positive/negative effects and other accounts.
Digby, Kenelm, Sir. Chymical Secrets and Rare Experiments in Physick & Philosophy. Printed for Will Cooper. 1683. Historical Texts. Web.
Detailed process of producing Laudanum pills.
Jones, John. The Mysteries of Opium Reveal'd. Printed for Richard Smith. 1700. Historical Texts. Web.
The only mention of Paracelsus I could find in an English 18th century text.
Texts from Literature Online:
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor. "KUBLA KHAN: Or, A Vision in a Dream. A Fragment". From The Complete Poetical Works. 1912. Literature Online. Web.
<http://0-gateway.proquest.com.pugwash.lib.warwick.ac.uk/openurl?ctx_ver=Z39.88-2003&xri:pqil:res_ver=0.2&res_id=xri:lion&rft_id=xri:lion:ft:po:Z300317190:3 >
Highlights the creative consequences of taking opium.
Garth, Samuel, Sir. "THE DISPENSARY". From The Dispensary. 1714. Literature Online. Web.
<http://0-gateway.proquest.com.pugwash.lib.warwick.ac.uk/openurl?ctx_ver=Z39.88-2003&xri:pqil:res_ver=0.2&res_id=xri:lion&rft_id=xri:lion:ft:po:Z200378036:2 >
Richard, Ames. "THE Fatal Friendship, &c". From Fatal Friendship. 1693. Literature Online. Web.
<http://0-gateway.proquest.com.pugwash.lib.warwick.ac.uk/openurl?ctx_ver=Z39.88-2003&xri:pqil:res_ver=0.2&res_id=xri:lion&rft_id=xri:lion:ft:po:Z200259300:2 >
Oldham, John. "A Satyr, In Imitation of the Third of JUVENAL". From The Works (1684). Literature Online. Web.
<http://0-gateway.proquest.com.pugwash.lib.warwick.ac.uk/openurl?ctx_ver=Z39.88-2003&xri:pqil:res_ver=0.2&res_id=xri:lion&rft_id=xri:lion:ft:po:Z300452026:3 >
Short examples to highlight the way earlier poets and writers are using laudanum as a peripheral motif.
Wollstonecraft, Mary. The Wrongs of Woman. 1798. Literature Online. Web.
<http://0-gateway.proquest.com.pugwash.lib.warwick.ac.uk/openurl?ctx_ver=Z39.88-2003&xri:pqil:res_ver=0.2&res_id=xri:lion&rft_id=xri:lion:ft:pr:Z000043831:0 >
Unfinished feminist novel, published posthumously - laudanum used in attempted suicide.
De Quincey, Thomas. Confessions of an English Opium-Eater (Penguin Classics). 2011. Literature Online. Web.
<http://0-gateway.proquest.com.pugwash.lib.warwick.ac.uk/openurl?ctx_ver=Z39.88-2003&xri:pqil:res_ver=0.2&res_id=xri:lion&rft_id=xri:lion:ft:pr:Z001588493:0 >
Paramount literary text which explores an individual experience of prolonged opium use.
Texts from British Periodicals, relevant in discussing numerous ailments and the effect of laudanum in treating them, as well as highlight the general attitude of the press with regard to the medicine as a wondrous cure for most encountered distempers (in order of appearance):
"Extraordinary Effect of Laudanum." The Gentleman's Magazine: and historical chronicle, Jan. 1736- Dec.1833 32 (1762): 631. ProQuest. Web. 13 Mar. 2016.
"ON THE IMMODERATE USE OF LAUDANUM." The Scots Magazine, 1739-1803 56 (1794): 516. ProQuest. Web. 13 Mar. 2016.
B. "Art. 19. Advice to People Afflicted with the Gout, &c." Monthly Review, or, Literary Journal, 1752-1825 51 (1774): 239. ProQuest. Web. 13 Mar. 2016.
K. "ART. XIX. A Treatise on Opium Founded on Practical Observations." Monthly Review, or, Literary Journal, 1752-18259 (1753): 128-37. ProQuest. Web. 13 Mar. 2016.
"An Easy and Effectual Remedy for the HEAD-ACH, and an Alleviative for the ASTHMA; from Dr Percival's Philosophical, Medical, and Experimental Essays." The Edinburgh magazine, or, Literary amusement, 1779-1782 47 (1780): 238-9. ProQuest. Web. 13 Mar. 2016.
"ART. VII. A Treatise on Tropical Diseases; and on the Climate of the West-Indies." English review, or, An abstract of English and foreign literature, 1783-1795 11 (1788): 26-30. ProQuest. Web. 13 Mar. 2016.
"Cure of a Double Tertian Ague.-from the History of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris, for the Year, 1757." Universal magazine of knowledge and pleasure, June 1747-Dec.1803 32.224 (1763): 305. ProQuest. Web. 14 Mar. 2016.
"THE Ancient Physician's Legacy to His Country; being what He has Collected Himself in Forty-Nine Years Practice:" The Present state of the republick of letters 10 (1732): 183-207. ProQuest. Web. 14 Mar. 2016.
From the Criminal Trials and Confessions of the Old Bailey, showing different uses of laudanum for murder and suicide, their circumstances and the general idea of laudanum as an untraceable poison (in order of appearance):
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2, 13 March 2016), August 1741, trial of James Moulds (t17410828-18).
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2, 13 March 2016), Ordinary of Newgate's Account, May 1725 (OA17250524).
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2, 13 March 2016), September 1756, trial of James Clowes (t17560915-46).
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2, 13 March 2016), Ordinary of Newgate's Account, March 1738 (OA17380308).
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2, 13 March 2016), July 1806, trial of ELIZABETH CRULDROCK (t18060702-36).
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2, 13 March 2016), July 1806, trial of HANNAH LEEFEVER (t18060702-45).
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2, 13 March 2016), September 1762, trial of Joshua Marshall (t17620917-28).
Other external links:
"laudanum, n. 1. " The Oxford English Dictionary. June 2015. Oxford University Press. 17 March 2015. Web. <http://www.oed.com/ >.
http://0-resources.amdigital.co.uk.pugwash.lib.warwick.ac.uk/gc/time/?search=true&q=laudanum (Short Chronology from Empire Online).
IMAGES
Fig 1. http://www.nationaltrustcollections.org.uk/object/456117
Fig 2. http://www.nationaltrustcollections.org.uk/object/835798
Fig 3. Exact copy of page 266 from Digby's Chymical Secrets.
Fig 4. http://www.lornebair.com/pages/books/17017/thomas-de-quincey/confessions-of-an-english-opium-eater
Fig 5. http://www.nationaltrustcollections.org.uk/object/871351.2.4
Fig 6. Hogarth, William. Marriage a la Mode: Plate 6 'The Countess has taken her Life in the Miserly House of the Merchant'. London. 1745.
http://www.artoftheprint.com/artistpages/hogarth_william_marriagealamodecompletesetofsixplate6.htm
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