To provide a wholesome milk-supply: Streptococci and leukocytes.

Part 2

As we have seen in the preceding blogpost, there was discussion about whether  good and bad streptococci are present in the milk, and , since they cannot be distinguished with methods available in 1907, we have to accept two facts, Harris tells us (1):

First that there exists in udders of normal cows a certain species of bacterium, in great numbers, that performs its service to the dairyman; second that streptococci are observed universally in milk. But Harris does not think that the latter fact “is evidence that the cows giving the milk are diseased and that the milk is in consequence unfit for the use of the human subject.” For if it were evidence “then we would be bound to acknowledge that for the greater part milch cows suffer more or less continuously from inflammation of the udder.”

Harris now proceeds with a speculation (his word) based on a view of some colleagues that the normal lactic acid bacteria of the udder are streptococci, which are for the most part non-pathogeneic. The speculation is that he assumes “that after a time the cocci gradually part with their pathogeneic powers, and, undergoing some modification, give themselves over to a saprophytic existence, comparable to that led by bacteria in the mouths and intestines of the human subject.”

Harris is aware that his arguments for a more doubtful significance of streptocci in milk may not be satisfying, but his aim is a careful reinvestigation of the facts, to “arrive, it is to be hoped, at no distant day to a much clearer point of view … regarding the status of the presence of streptococci in milk.”

There remains a second important question in accordance with the title of the publication, that is the presence of the so-callled “pus cells”, or leucocytes in milk.

(to be continued)

1. N.M.Harris, ‘The relative importance of streptococci and leukocytes in milk’, The Journal of Infectious Diseases, 4 (1907) 50-62.

To provide a wholesome milk-supply: Streptococci and leukocytes.

Part 1

Early in the twentieth century the health quality of milk was of considerable importance, but little was known of how to evaluate it.

Streptococci in milk were supposed to be the cause of diseases in man; in England an outbreak of sour throat could be connected to a herd of the suspected dairy in which a cow was affected with acute mastitis. The problem was to establish suitable standards with regard to streptococci and “pus cells”, i.e. leukocytes, in milk supplies. Norman Harris, a bacteriologist in Chicago, gave an overview in 1907 of his own opinions and those of his colleagues about this problem¹.

In general it was believed that two groups of bacteria could be found in milk ducts of a cow: those that produce lactic acid fermentation and those that do nothing. After a long discussion of the literature Harris concludes that souring of milk by lactic acid is caused by Streptococcus lacticus. But then the question must be asked: ”in what light, then, are we to regard the presence of streptococci in milk as being an index of disease in the cows? It cannot be denied that cows suffer from an inflammation of the udder at one time or another during lactation, and that these lesions are largely caused by the ordinary pyogenic cocci … Of the cocci it would seem that a streptococcus is the more prominent factor, … particularly in that form of mastitis known as acute contagious mastitis.”

Thus, in Harris view, streptococci were responsible either for a harmless souring of milk or for an acute mastitis in cows. It would be very helpful if it were possible to distinguish the several “races” of streptococci, because that would give the possibility “to frame standards whereby we might be able to say that a given sample of milk was fit for consumption, whilst another was not, on the ground that each contained harmless and hurtful cocci respectively.”

Next Harris discusses various methods for making this distinction, such as possible differences in the fermentation of substrates, hemolytic properties, agglutination reactions, reactions to sera and pathogenicity to rabbits, mice and guine pigs, but all without good results.

This latter feature of pathogenicity was important in the light of the believe of Harris and colleagues the the pathogenic streptococci “have a virulence all [of] their own toward the human species … and that these cocci thus causing human infection are those giving rise to the acute contagious variety of mastitis or gelber Galt of the Germans.” Mastitis milk was a danger for humans and identification of harmful streptococci might help in recognizing dangerous milk. But unfortunately, no such test was found yet.

(to be continued)

1. N.M.Harris, ‘The relative importance of streptococci and leukocytes in milk’, The Journal of Infectious Diseases, 4 (1907) 50-62.

Dog history

Dogs are not only subjects of veterinary care, they are also subjects of cultural history. An interesting example may be found in an essay about the history of bloodhounds around 1900 by Neil Pemberton.

I copy the summary, and, as an appetizer, the introduction of the article. Pemberton makes extensive use of newspaper articles.

The bloodhound's nose knows? dogs and detection in Anglo-American culture

Neil Pemberton,  Endeavour 37, 196–208

Summary

The figure of the English bloodhound is often portrayed both positively and negatively as an efficient man-hunter. This article traces the cultural, social and forensic functions of the first attempts to use bloodhounds for police investigation, and argues that the analysis of these developments, which took place at the turn of the twentieth century, further our understanding of the diverse practices and cultures of fin de siècle forensics. Arguing that their dogs could trail tracks of human scent, English pedigree bloodhound breeders promoted and imagined novel ways of detecting and thinking forensically, with which they made claims to social authority in matters of crime and detection. Yet, English bloodhounds were unstable carriers of forensic meaning making their use for tracking criminals deeply problematic: for example, the name of the breed itself invoked a long-line of social and cultural associations. In showing this, we can see how the practices of canine forensics had their roots in a complex history, involving genteel leisure, changing cultural understandings of scent, and shifting dog-keeping mores.

Introduction: a murder mystery at Gorse Hall

From the late 1880s onwards stories of the pursuit of criminals with bloodhounds, whether successful or unsuccessful, made dramatic copy for a penny press on both sides of the Atlantic, eager to fill their pages with narratives that thrilled, shocked and horrified readers. One such article was published in the popular illustrated London weekly the Daily Sketch on the 3 November 1909, in which the bloodhound was characterised as possessing an insatiable curiosity – a dog that pursues even the faintest of scent traces with all the zest of a born detective. The day before, a Lancashire mill owner, George Starres, was found dead at his mansion, Gorse Hall near Stalybridge; he had been shot. Unable to find any actionable crime scene evidence or witnesses to the murder, the police investigators called upon the services of the renowned private dog breeder and trainer, Colonel E.H. Richardson.

In the Daily Sketch's coverage of the investigation, Richardson's sleuthing was much applauded: he was praised as a knowledgeable and trustworthy hunter, who practised the art of detection in a fundamentally different way from other police detectives, whose essential approach to crime solving relied on relating physical evidence to oral testimony. Richardson instead solved criminal mysteries through the recovery of invisible traces of a criminal's scent, employing the reputedly sensitive nose of an English bloodhound. Tracing scent by working with a hound enabled him to reconstruct the genus and movements of human quarry through space. After a long drive in the rain from his London residence, Richardson had arrived at Gorse Hall with two of his bloodhounds, who on arrival had been presented with the murder weapon found at the scene of the crime, in the hope that the dogs would detect the culprit's scent and locate a trail.

In this case however Richardson and his bloodhounds failed to find the culprit for the murder at Gorse Hall. Although the dogs picked up a scent trail at the crime scene, they lost the trail on the surrounding moors, due in large part to the rain, which apparently dispersed what had been a traceable trail. As in the Sherlock Holmes story, in which he demonstrates the forensic productivity of being attuned to canine abilities and behaviour, sometimes the most significant thing is that the dog did not bark. Thus, taking my lead from Holmes's acute attentiveness to canine behaviour, this historical account of using dogs to solve crime avoids documenting either the historical successes or the failures or shortcomings in a specific period, thereby resisting a straightforward listing of criminal cases in which canines ‘barked,’ or not.

In search of the cause of mastitis

Although Nocard and Mollereau had demonstrated in 1884 that cocci could be held responsible for mastitis, the nature of the real cause of the disease troubled many for a long time after.

Here is a report, published in 1892 in the Receuil de Médécine Vétérinaire (vol 69 p.494-495)

by a veterinarian, J.Joquan, from Vitré, who thought that he had made a step forward in the knowledge of the cause of mastitis. This text has been published recently in Dutch in Argos, 49, 2013, 324.

“Sur une cause probable de la mammite infectieuse de la vache.”

“About a year ago I was consulted for a case of mastitis of a cow in the municipality of Vitré. Following a painful swelling the udder of this cow had returned to approximately the normal volume, but she kept giving small quantities of milk that was putrid, watery and unfit for consumption. In vain I looked for the cause of this change and I decided to give the following advice, that did not satisfy me at all: ‘The cow is too fat, she should see the butcher and another one should be bought.’ This was done accordingly. After four or five months the new cow was affected in exactly the same way as the first, but this cow lacked the fat condition, and did therefore not allow me to bring this in association with an unfortunate mastitis.This forced me to go deeper into the case and to look elsewhere for the starting-point of the infection of these two cows. After a tour through the stables, a little bit of searching and asking some questions of the cattle-maid I found out  […] that the bedding of the stables had been taken from the straw-mattresses, used by the numerous and various boarders. Probably my enemies must be found here. Therefore I made them give up the use of this straw and made it replaced by more natural bedding, namely fresh straw that had not served anyone. I treated the cow: she recovered.

I should not have published this notice if I had not been supported by the next, third fact; some time ago I was called to a small farm close to town to treat a mastitis of the same nature as the preceding ones. I did not fail to ask of the bedding: that had its origin in the purchase of straw, made by the infantry regiment of the garrison of Vitré, and it had served too for straw-mattresses for the military men. I don’t want to comment on it.

[…]

Until now I have accused all kinds of more or less vague causes, which are known and have been described as coincidental causes. Now I think I can blame one, if not a general, then at least a frequent, cause of this disease: the infectious nature of bedding that has served as the fillings of straw-mattresses.”

It is noteworthy to read how cautious Joquan has formulated the general discussion at the end: it is the infectious nature of the straw, used in the mattresses, that has to be blamed.

Mastitis and epidemiology

Some provocative arguments about epidemiology by Alex Broadbent, a philosopher of epidemiology in Johannesburg (SA), on his epidemiology blog.

“(1) It is hard to use results which one reasonably suspects might soon be found incorrect.”

“(2) Often, epidemiological results are such that a prospective user reasonably suspects that they will soon be found incorrect.”

“(3) Therefore, often, it is hard to use epidemiological results.”

 “I think that (1) does not need supporting: it is obviously true (or obviously enough for these purposes). The weight is on (2), and my argument for (2) is that from the outside, it is simply too hard to tell whether a given issue – for example, the effect of HRT on heart disease, or the effect of acetaminophen (paracetamol) on asthma – is still part of an ongoing debate, or can reasonably be regarded as settled. The problem infects even results that epidemiologists would widely regard as settled: the credibility of the evidence on the effect of smoking on lung cancer is not helped by reversals over HRT, for example, because from the outside, it is not unreasonable to wonder what the relevant difference is between the pronouncements on HRT and the pronouncements on lung cancer and smoking. There is a difference: my point is that epidemiology lacks a clear framework for saying what it is.”

 (Alex Broadbent on his Philosophy of Epidemiology Blog, 2 september 2012) 
ttp://philosepi.wordpress.com/author/philosepi/page/2/

Do these arguments affect the epidemiological results of mastitis investigations?

There were no comments on Broadbent’s blog, and I do not think mine will raise comments either, but feel free if you want.

Mastitis and fraudulent cattle traders

In the nineteenth century mastitis was thought to be caused by, among others, swelling of the udder. The swelling itself needed an external cause for explanation, which was looked for in inadequate animal husbandry. Sloppy milkmaids and fraudulent cattle traders are frequently found in the literature throughout most of the century. Two examples of the latter are given here.

Auguste Jourdier [calls himself farmer at Vert-Galant, but is a veterinarian],

‘Foire a moutons de la Pomponne’, Journal d’Agriculture Pratique, de Jardinage et d’Economie Domestique, 7 (1852) 236-237

[Describes the prices at the market of horses, sheep and cattle]

“Milk cattle reached a price of 150-250 fr [per kilogram]. The sellers, mostly small farmers, have the deplorable habit of not milking the cows long before, in order to make the udder look much bigger. This is a serious mistake, because this barbarous actions may cause severe diseases: a more or less intense mastitis, an obstruction of milk [galactophores] canals, frequently resulting in loss by the beast of one or two teats. Sometimes it makes them ill-natured and difficult to milk, due to the suffering they have endured, and which has been excited by the noise of the crowd or the blows.”

Th.Kitt, [prosector and lecturer at the Veterinary Highschool of Munich]

‘Untersuchungen über die verschiedene Formen der Euterentzünding.’ Deutsche Zeitschrift für Thiermedicin 12 (1885) 7-8

[Describes the etiology of mastitis in relation to different pathological-anatomical changes]

“…  Frequently there are, in high- or moderate-producing milk cows, e.g. by a too late milking-out (which is often deliberately put into practice by traders, to demonstrate a fraudulent milk profit), conditions in which milk droplets adhere abundantly [to the teat] …”

It should be noted that Kitt was discussing the route of entrance of infectious agents.

I found at least four times in the literature remarks on the fraudulent behaviour of cattle traders or sellers of cows as contributing to cases of mastitis.

A cat in a pathology lab

A remarkable case of “anthroponosis”, published in the Journal of Comparative Pathology, 1, 60-62, 1888, translated from a French publication:

A CASE OF TRANSMISSION OF PULMONARY TUBERCULOSIS FROM MAN TO THE CAT

Communicated to the Societé de Médécine Pratique, Decvember 1887.

By Drs FILLEAU and LÉON PETIT

Translated from the Journal de Médécine de Paris, Jan.1888

[………..]

  "We had in our laboratory a cat that evinced a very marked taste for phtisical sputum.  It followed the patients about, and as soon as they expectorated on the ground it greedily devoured the sputum. Gradually this taste became a passion; the cat watched with interest all the manipulations which were made in the laboratory in the microscopic exmination of sputa, knowing well that the refuse from the operation was destined for it.

  Submitted to this regime, the animal soon became emaciated, its coat stared, its eyes were bleared, it had a muco-purulent secretion from the nose, violent sneezing, and cough sometimes followed by vomition. It crawled with difficulty; in short, it presented all the symptoms of a very advanced stage of some chronic, grave disease.

  I need hardly say that we followed day by day the progress of this malady, and the more so because in the bacillary examination of the nasal discharge, which in reality came from the bronchi,  we had on several occasions proved the presence of Koch’s bacillus. We waited then, not without impatience, the natural termination of this pulmonary tuberculosis, in the expectation of an interesting autopsy.

  After about two months and a half we were much surprised to see the morbid symptoms rapidly abate. The violent cough became less frequent, the purulent discharge quickly disappeared, the general state improved considerably, the animal’s spirit returned, and it seemd on a fair way to recovery. It continued, nevertheless, to consume sputum with the same avidity. I confess that our first conviction at this time was considerably shaken.

  But the cat gradually gave evidence of pregnancy, and at the normal period gave birth to seven well-developed kittens. It suckled one of these for five months, and it did not present any symptom of cachexia; but a slight, dry, hacking cough nevertheless persisted. Six months after the act of parturition, on account of its contact with a mad dog, the cat was killed as a sanitary measure."

……………

Next followed the autopsy of the cat, confirming that it had contracted a real tuberculosis.

This publication shows some light on the state of good laboratory practice, of the role of companion animals in society and of sanitation in pathology laboratories in the last decades of the 19^th century.

Magic and Mastitis

The Swiss veterinarian Gattiker (1848) was the first to give a description of problems of mastitis in a scientific veterinary journal [1]. 

The disease was called “gelber Galt” because the milk that was produced by those cows is yellow (”gelb”) and the amount is considerably reduced (“Galt”). In his paper he discussed what he thought could be the causes of the disease but first  he described what he called an interesting case of superstition.

“ In approximately 8 subsequent years all the cows, four in total, of an owner in Schönenberg, in a high mountanous region, were affected by this disease [i.e.gelber Galt], forcing him each summer to sell a few of his most beautiful cows to the butcher, with rather great financial loss. Then this owner came to think that his cattle was bewitched. A fortune-teller […] advised him to go to a referee [Scharfrichter] in Schwyz to get help, because an old neighbour-woman might be the witch. The referee ordered the owner of the cows to pray in the stable, together with the fortune-teller and a certain N.N. […] at witching hour, at midnight, and to fasten a leather belt around the abdomen of the cows, and to proceed several nights with this ceremony. A veterinarian may have advised to go on with it until the old woman were prayed to death. By chance I came to this remarkable performance, made this otherwise sensibnle man reproaches about his superstition, told him that his cattle could be cured in an entirely natural way if he should make a change in the diet and also that his stables were in a poor condition.”

Gattiker described that he proposed a therapy of salts and herbs.

“ After a short time the milk secretion started again and the leather belts could be discarded.

Late in the autumn the old neighbour-woman died; the people believed she had been prayed to death.”

Gattiker went on to discuss other causes, such as cold; but he seriously doubted whether contagion might be the cause.

1. [-] Gattiker, ‘Beschreibung der Krankheit der Kühe, welche in einigen Gegenden der Schweiz unter dem Namen “gelber Galt”, auch Gelti, bekannt ist.’ Archiv fürTierheilkunde 10 (1848) 1-5.

The failing health of German vets

The edition of July 15, 1889 of the Receuils de Médécines Vétérinaires opens with  a reminder, by Edouard Nocard, secretary of the organizing comittee of the V^me Congrès International de Médécine Vétérinaire.

“We remind the readers of the Receuil that the international veterinary congress will have its meetings in the main building of the Societé de Géografie, 184 Boulevard Saint-Germain, from 2 to 8 september forthcoming.

…

Among the numerous veterinarians from abroad who have joined the congress no Germans are counted. The few German veterinarians that had made a registration directly in the beginning later declared themselves unable to come for reasons of health (sic) [italics in original text]. The real motive for this general absence most be looked for elsewhere. It seems that the catchword given to the whole of Germany has been not to participate in any international congress, scientific or otherwise, that will be held in Paris on the occurrence of the World Exhibition.

In relation to this follows here an example of the parlance that was used in the German veterinary journals:

 ‘We trust that our German colleagues refrain completely from participating in this congress; the actual circumstances, the place where it is held and the occasion to which it is connected are sufficient motives for allowing absence .. ‘ (Berliner Wochenschrift, april 1889).

Even if the German veterinarians do not participate in the congres, it is fortunately not the same with veterinarians from Switserland,  Belgium, England, Italy, Holland, Russia, Romania, etc.

…

The preceding congresses were brilliantly succesful; there is no need that, the systematic absence of the Germans notwithstanding, our congress will be inferior to these.”

It is clear that feelings of national pride prevailed over scientific interests. The actual circumstances in the German appeal cited by Nocard may have had to do with the commemoration of the French revolution and the rise of revanchist ideas in France in that year with regard to the outcome of Prussian-French war of 1870-71. In this sense it corresponds to the nationalistic sentiments in the controversy of the bacteriological schools of Koch and Pasteur.

The misery of mastitis in 1883

Nocard and Mollereau were the first to demonstrate that mastitis was caused by a microorganism, later to be named Streptocoocus agalactiae. However, they were also the first to describe the miserable situation of a farm that was chronically affected by the disease. This is also interesting, especially from the point of view of social and economic history of animal disease.

I follow their description here, originally written in French [1].

“The observation to be described here will give insight into this remarkable affection [i.e. chronic mastits], the route it follows in the affected stables and its great tenacity.

In the last month of december [1883] one of us was consulted by a cattle farmer, his client, concerning an illness that prevailed at his farm and that made a great part of the milk that was produced absolutely unfit for consumption. Six years ago the disease appeared at this farm in the form of an induration in one of the milk glands with a serious alteration of the milk that was secreted. A veterinarian who was then consulted believed he had to do with a chronic mastitis and advised embrocations of campher ointments; next the disease hit a great number of the cows of the same stable without the owner asking again for the veterinarian, so that at the moment he called for us the farmer had already wasted almost three hunderd francs of campher ointment. In fact, more than eighty cows were one after the other hit by the same affection despite the ointment and the prayers and all kinds of conjurations that the owner had tried to put to work.

After six years more than half of the cows that had been held in these stables had payed tribute to this formidable disease; three weeks or one month after their purchase an udder began to form knots (a hard knot developed in the gland). The milk that was produced maintained its aspect and external characteristics but only diminished immediately in quantity; next it coagulated faster until it could no longer be kept; it had to be dristibuted among hurried clients. In the end it became watery, gritty, with a yellowish colour, sometimes evil-smelling, only to be brought to the dung-hill. Mixing it with good milk was sufficient to make coagulate the whole of the milk almost immediately. From then on the affected gland had to be considered as lost and the yeld of the cow diminished with one quarter.

When two quarters were hit, it was necessary to bring the animal to the butcher, because the yield of the two healthy quarters did not compensate for the loss of the farmer. In addition, although the general health of the cow seemed not affected, it was more difficult to fatten up, resulting in a cow, bought for giving milk, that was not even good enough for the meat.

One may understand that the exploitation of the cattle farm, continuing under these conditions for six years, was far from giving the benefits that had been expected with good reason.  In addition, the farmer, running out of resources and courage, was on the point of leaving the profession, when he got the idea to consult us.“

And out came the bacteria as a cause of mastitis. And a therapy.

[1] [E.] Nocard en [H.] Mollereau, ‘Sur une mammite contagieuse des vaches laitières.’ Annales de l’Institut Pasteur 1 (1887) 109-126

Blue milk

In the first half of the nineteenth century milk was found to have all kinds of different colours, mainly, it was thought, because of the cows eating plants which stained the milk. In my last message of 11 september 2013 I cited the ideas of Vallot about the colour, and other alterations, of milk. This message of today is about blue milk.

Vallot stated that the cause of blue milk is unknown but suspected that the eating of hyacint plants could be involved. Alexander Numan (1780-1852), director and teacher of almost every subject to be taught at the the Dutch Veterinary School, thought more about it. In his lecture notebooks, preserved in the library of Utrecht University, he mentions a list of plants that may be the cause of blue milk; what those plants had in common is that they contained indigo-like compounds that may have an effect on milk, Numan lectured, when the digestion of the animal is incomplete and when those compounds are not “decomposed and equilized”. He wondered why it is that the colours are not transferred to the butter but stay dissolved in the whey[1].

Almost two decades later, in 1841, C.J.Fuchs published the results of a study in which he showed that the blue colour of milk could be attributed to a contagium of which Fuchs was of the opinion that it was an infusorium of the genus Vibrio, observed by him in the milk. As long as milk was normal no infusoria were observed. Fumigation with chlorine was not sufficient to fight the Vibrio: Fuchs prescribed treatment of utensils, udders and milker’s hands with boiling lime [2]. With regard to the hygienic measures for preventing mastitis, to be applied several decades later, I consider this an interesting prescription.

The discussion about blue milk was brought to a new phase by Friederich Mosler, professor of (human) internal medicine (and other disciplines) in Greifswald (Germany). Mosler published a paper[3] in 1868 about blue milk, because he was confronted with a family of which some of the members became ill with gastritis after having consumed milk with a blue colour. In his paper Mosler gives an overview of the many plants that may give the milk this colour (hyacints were not mentioned, but some of Numan’s plants were) and then starts to describe what really matters when people are drinking blue milk. The difference between milk stained blue by plants and blue milk as a cause of gastritis was that when the latter was left standing for several days it became covered with a thick blue skin. Mosler studied this layer with the microscope and found blue-stained fungi in it, which he compared to known fungi and of which he made some drawings which he included in his paper (see below).

So instead of resolving the problem of blue milk, Fuchs and Mosler added a new problem, that of contaminated milk. This latter became much more important, because of food safety and food hygiene. The problem of the milk becoming blue by plants silently disappeared from the academic interest.

  

Drawing by Mosler (1868) of fungi in blue milk.

A: partly stained fungus; B and C: stained casein particles; D: unstained butter droplets

---

[1] A.Numan, Kort zamenstel der algemeene veertsenijkundige ziektekunde strekkende tot een leidraad der voorleezingen over dezelve (Short composition of general veterinary pathology meant as a guide to the lectures about it) HS 13 A 1 (1823), par. 124, p. 126.

[2] The original publication was abstracted by Wellenbergh from a paper in a German journal edited by Gult and Herwig of 1841: F.H.J.Wellenbergh, ‘Uitbreiding der Veertsenijkunde in de jaren 1841, 1842 en 1843.’ Numan’s Veeartsenijkundig Magazijn V, II (1846) 81-281.

[3] F.Mosler. Ueber blaue milch und durch deren Genuss herbeigeführte Erkrankungen beim Menschen. (On blue milk and the diseases of man caused by its consumption). Archiv für pathologische Anatomie, 1868, 43, 161-181.

Colourful milk

In the Receuil des Médécines Vétérinaires of 1826 a description was given of the alterations of milk, mainly of its colour and taste, by Vallot.[1] It is an overview of the then known pathological changes of milk, and most of them are supposed to be caused by plants eaten by the animals. The translation and editing/summarizing of the text is mine. The Latin plantnames given in brackets are those given by Vallot.

1. Red milk, known for a long time, but the cause of this colour is unknown; one only knows that it has given rise to ridiculous fables and lamentable superstitions. Some agriculturists, attributing it to a disease of the teat, which is more soft, may have mentioned it as a result only; it remains for more precise observers to decide.

2. Yellow milk is produced, it is said, by kingcup (Caltha palustris) eaten by the cow; but this cause is doubtful.

3. Blue milk: the real cause is unknown. According to some agriculturists it has to be attributed to the eating of hyacinth (Hyacinyhus comosus).

4. Green milk is simply blue milk.

5. Non-coagulating milk is produced by the intake of the husks of green peas and of mint.

6. Bitter milk is given by cows when they eat absinth (Artemisia absinthium), alpine milkweed (Sonchus alpinum), and leaves of the artichok (Cynara scolymus), and by goats who have eaten a large quantity of shoots of elder (Sambucus nigra) and foliage of potatoes (Solanum tuberosum).

7. Unappetizing milk is produced by cows in Upper Canada, fed with turnips, instead of [squach][2]; only mentioned here to remember.

8. Milk with the taste of dung. In the Northern countries, when cows eat seaweed, their milk may contract a taste of dung.

9. Garlic milk. This type of milk is well known; it is due to plants with a smell of garlic eaten by the cows, and the number of those plants is considerable.

10. Milk without taste and the butter of it with a colour of lead is given by cows eating horsetail (Equisetum fluviatile).

11. Sweetend milk from meadows in Les Landes is given by cows that graze on alpine clover (Trifolium alpinum).

12. Red butter. This colour is given to butter by the currant-juice of asparagus; but it is not yet known whether the samples taken from the butter, at our markets, that have this colour are constantly due to this cause.

Monsieur Vallot may have been a collector of agricultural data about milk. According to the subtitle of this paper he presented this list at a session of the Académie des Science in Dijon in 1825. The same subtitle also mentions that this list has been extracted from a medical bulletin. Like so many learned men in his days he may have been eager to present his collection  to the society of which he was a member.

The collection does not show a clear pattern, except that most but not all of the alterations are caused by plants. Some of them he only knows from reports of others (Canada), some causes are assumptions only like the yellow and the blue milk, and the first alteration, the red milk, is placed in the middle of an apparently ongoing controversy about the cause that may be a disease. What he does not mention is, that, even in his days, the red colour of the milk has been attributed also to blood in the milk because of an inflammation.

Nevertheless, Vallot stood in a tradition of classifying abberrations of milk as a separate class of pathology, subdivided in smaller groups, of which qualitative alterations, such as blue, souring, bitter, tough and watery milk were seen as caused by the eating of plants.

---

[1] M[onsieur] Vallot. Du lait considéré dans ses alterations physiologiques. Receuils des Médécines Vétérinaires, 3, 1826, 171-173

[2] I was unable to find a translation for the name of this plant; some googling suggested that it should be read as squash and may be a pumpkin. Maybe readers (from Canada?) can help me.

Treating mastitis in 1815

Early in the nineteenth century James White, veterinary  surgeon of the First or Royal Dragoons in Exeter, UK, published a four volume Treatise of Veterinary Medicine. The books were very popular and the first volume reached eleven editions. The treatise mainly described problems and diseases of horses, but volume 4 (one edition only) dealt also with diseases of cattle. A very small chapter was describing mastitis[1]. It went as follows:

CHAPTER XX.

Inflammation and Swelling of the Udder,

This disease attacks cows about the time of calving, and is sometimes so considerable, as to cause an abscess to form. As soon as it is observed, let the animal be bled freely, and take a pound of Epsom salt [magnesium sulfate], dissolved in a quart of gruel, to which a little castor or linseed oil may be added. The swollen udder should be frequently fomented with a decoction of mallows, elder, or hemlock[2]. The best method of doing this is to dip large woollen cloths in the hot decoction, and, after wringing, let them be applied so as to cover the whole udder: this process should be continued for some time, and repeated several times a day. When, by these means, the inflammation has been removed, some degree of hard, but not painful swelling, may remain: to disperse this, the following liniment may be rubbed on the part once or twice a day.

LINIMENT

Take of linseed oil  4 ½ oz.

Oil of turpentine 1 oz.

Liquor of ammonia ½  oz.

Mix.

That was all.

Is the treatment proposed here rubbish, or quackery? Or is it reliable knowledge?

Reliability of knowledge, all knowledge, should be weighed against its context. The context of this treatment of inflammation of the udder is the background knowledge of (veterinary) medicine of those days, which was based on humoral pathology and herbal and mineral medicine. Veterinarians trusted the knowledge and thought it reliable, partly because of training, partly because of experience, which itself was of course evaluated and interpreted in terms and theories of this same background knowledge. Hence bloodletting to reduce fever.  

But Epsom salt was interesting for two reasons. First I discovered that Epsom salt is magnesium sulfate. To find out what it does I consulted PubMed, by searching for the combination of magnesium sulfate and inflammation. To my surprise I found a lot of very recent articles, studying the effect of magnsesium sulfate on inflammatory processes and on the role of cytokines and it may even have immunomodulatory potential. So here seemed to be the modern justification for the use of Epsom salt in the treatment of udder inflammation. But then I consulted White again. The second volume of his Treatment contains the Materia Medica and Pharmacopeia[3] and is in essence a pharmaceutical encyclopedia. Under Epsom salt we find that magnesium sulfate is a common remedy used because of its laxative effect, again according to the old humoral ideas about body fluids.

Is it possible that veterinarians in 1815 treated inflammations of the udder directly, without knowing it? Is it reliable knowledge even to our own, modern standards?

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[1] James White. A treatise on veterinary medicine. London, Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown 1815. volume IV, p.71-72

[2] For Dutch readers: gruel is dunne graanpap, castor oil is wonderolie, foment with a decoction of mallows, elder, or hemlock is betten met een afkooksel van malve, vlier of dollekervel.

 [3] James White. A treatise on veterinary medicine. London, Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown 1816. volume II. The contents of White's books may be consulted at Google Books.

The oldest mention of mastitis known to me at this moment is a small remark in a very long report about the state of agriculture in the Kingdom of Holland in 1808. It may be found in Jan Kops' Magazijn der Vaderlandsche Landbouw, covering the whole of crops and animal production. Here we find a remark which goes as follows: “In Groningen it was especially unfavourable with cattle: during the summer it stayed healthy enough, except that in the Colonies [East-Friesland, annexed from Germany in Napoleontic times, BN] one was distressed by swollen udders…”[1]

In the Dutch text the word "jadders" (uiers) was used, a word related to the English "udders", but in Dutch it is not in use anymore.

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[1] Jan Kops: Magazijn van Vaderlandsche Landbouw vol VI, Haarlem, Loosjes, 1810, 118-119

To be consulted on the internet pages of Google: http://books.google.nl/books?id=U1RNAAAAcAAJ&printsec=frontcover&hl=nl&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false

About this blog

About this blog

This is a weblog for data, opinions, anecdotes, and remarkable facts from the Philosophy and History of Animal Science and other issues in the field of biomedical science.

My main interest at this moment is mastitis, the inflammation of the udder of ruminants (cows and goats mainly).

The history of mastitis may go as far back as  possible although the more exciting developments may take place after 1880.

The philosophy of mastitis may deal with everything that is concerned with questions of the reliability of biomedical knowledge of this disease and others and with the social influences on this knowledge. In the case of mastitis it may not be surprising that economy is one of those influences.

I hope the reader may find it interesting and will be challenged to send comments, other facts, data, anecdotes and opinions.

Rodin’s Penseur, contemplating the Lion of Androcles, is, of course, a parody of the Androclus logo of the Faculty of Veterinary Medicine of Utrecht University of which I was a member for a long time (Henk Halsema made the drawing).