The 19th-century ship was a home, a workplace and a deathtrap. With dozens of men living in close quarters and filthy conditions, a sailing vessel became an incubator for disease.
The Seaman Act of 1790 required each merchant ship to carry a medicine chest like the one seen here. The law also demanded that an “apothecary of known reputation” handle all medical treatments, but this task usually fell to the first mate or cook, who consulted books like “The Medical Chest Companion.”
Crews expected their substitute doctors to treat a dizzying array of ailments, by mixing ingredients from a few well-chosen jars and vials. “The Companion” promised cures for minor complaints like headaches, indigestion and diarrhea, as well as contagious diseases like malaria and measles.
The Marblehead Museum’s chest contains ingredients for combating stomach pain, including Purging Powder, Rhubarb Powder and Stoughton’s Elixir, bottled by Salem pharmacist Jonathan Webb. Fifteen drops of White Vitriol mixed with wine provided relief from scurvy.
Doctors laced their remedies with opium and laudanum (a tincture of opium) to help the medicine go down, a prescription Mary Poppins might have skipped. Medicines mixed frequently with opium included Sugar of Lead, which treated burns and gunshot wounds, and Tartar Emetic, a fever reducer. Of course, the use of narcotics led to lifelong addictions for some sailors.
When a sailor’s illness required quarantine, the ship transported them to onshore hospitals, funded by a 20-cent tax on their monthly salary. These hospitals became a refuge for sick sailors, who preferred the professional care of doctors over the “medicine-by-numbers” they received from their cook.
Jarrett Zeman is the assistant director of the Marblehead Museum. “From the Vault” is a partnership between the Marblehead Museum and the Current.
