Hahnemann: The Father of Homeopathy, Part 10

As an octogenarian, Dr. Samuel Hahnemann “grew thinner and more dwarflike. His knees bent in slightly; his torso was thrust forward, both when he walked and when he stood still; his face assumed the snowy hue which the slowing down of the blood’s circulation causes in old age. But the head, which ever more and more dominated the body, remained erect and sovereign.”

Parisians were captivated by Mélanie and Samuel’s unusual love story, and by the charm of Hahnemann’s “cheery and blissful old age.” The pair's popularity—and several celebrated cures— caused people to flock to the Hahnemanns' house in the center of the city with a multitude of ailments. Samuel had bequeathed the bulk of his German assets to his children (see part 9), but now he and Mélanie amassed a new fortune since they treated many wealthy patients.

Towards the end of Hahnemann’s life, the couple rarely left their house except to visit someone who was too sick to travel. Hahnemann wrote a friend, “Our horses are swift and our carriage light. For the rest, we live happily and cheerfully together like two good children and love one another in a way that amazes all our acquaintances.” One biographer wrote, “A happy marriage made (Mélanie) unsociable.” But she also “became the living compendium of homeopathy.” She mastered her husband’s medical system thoroughly, and several evenings per week gave homeopathic advice and medicine to the poor for free, while her husband rested.

On certain occasions—Samuel’s birthday or the anniversary of his doctoral degree—the house was lit with hundreds of candles and “everyone who had a name of note, or belonged to the beau monde, came to the house.”

There were also the “Monday receptions,” attended by doctors from all over the world, who discussed not just medical topics but also current events—the ceremonial interment of Napoleon’s body; the imprisonment of his nephew, Louis Napoleon; the death of Ferdinand Philippe, popular heir to the throne, in a carriage accident; Queen Victoria's upcoming visit to France, and much more. Hahnemann would listen quietly to the energetic dialogues, smoking his pipe and sometimes agreeing with his wife. He was perhaps distracted by thoughts of a project dear to his heart: Completing the sixth edition of his Organon of the Medical Art. In their leisurely hours, he dictated the book’s changes and additions to Mélanie since his writing hand had developed a tremor.

Springtime was not kind to Hahnemann. For twenty years, its pollen, gusty winds, and temperature shifts had given him a “catarrh of the bronchial tubes.” In 1843, at age 88, he said, “my earthly shell is worn out.” He sensed that this time would be the “final visitation of his yearly illness.” He treated himself as usual, but grew so weak that Mélanie consulted Dr. Croserio, an established physician who had witnessed a cure effected by Hahnemann ten years earlier and had thereafter embraced homeopathy. She kept her ailing husband “carefully secluded,” even from his daughter and 17-year-old grandson, and in the early hours of July 2, 1843, he died.

Hahnemann’s grandson, Leopold Suss, who also became a homeopath, harshly criticized Mélanie's handling of Hahnemann’s last days and funeral. As an adult, he wrote about that time, “Unfortunately I only saw my grandfather again when he was drawing his last breaths. I did not even see him in the evening before his death, although my mother and I had arrived in Paris a whole week before.” Regarding the funeral, he wrote, "The immortal Founder of Homeopathy was buried like the poorest of the poor; his funeral taking place as early in the morning as six o'clock, under a pelting rain, a common hearse bearing the remains of the great man to his last rest." He goes on to say that besides himself and a handful of servants, the only mourners at the graveside were his mother, Mélanie, and Dr. Charles Lethière (see part 9).

Hahnemann’s death threw Mélanie into profound despair. She could not immediately give up his body, so she had it embalmed (at great expense) and kept it for nine days. She also commissioned a final portrait of her dead husband with German historical artist Friedrich Boutwerk. Dr. Jahr, whose name is known to modern-day homeopaths thanks to his published works, was called to Hahnemann’s bedside at the end, and wrote, “Instead of seeing Hahnemann, the dear, friendly old man, smile his greeting, I found his wife stretched, in tears, on the bed and him lying cold and stiff by her side, having passed five hours before….” Her actions regarding the funeral, which she neither advertised nor celebrated, caused a sharp split in biographers’ opinions. Was she so devastated that she could not bear to think about, much less organize a proper funeral, as Rima Handley conjectured? Or was it, as Richard Haehl determined, “as if Madame Hahnemann completely forgot her husband after depositing him at Montmartre (cemetery).” That she, “closed that chapter of her life, in which the central figure had been Hahnemann, and that she wished to be rid of him.”

I think Haehl’s interpretation of Mélanie’s behavior is misconceived. She did not "close that chapter" of her life but continued to practice homeopathy. And would she have draped a lock of her hair around Hahnemann’s neck if she was of the cold-hearted mindset to be “rid of him?” The flaxen hair was discovered when Samuel and Mélanie’s bodies were moved from Montmartre Cemetery to Père Lachaise Cemetery in 1898. They were moved to make room for the planned monument to Hahnemann (which was erected two years later). When Hahnemann’s coffin was opened, the hair and a sealed glass bottle were discovered. Inside the bottle were the embalming report, a gold memorial medal containing Hahnemann’s profile and the inscription “To their Master, the French homeopaths,” and this message in Mélanie’s handwriting:

Christian Friedrich Samuel Hahnemann

Born at Meissen in Saxony on April 10, 1755

Died in Paris on July 2, 1843

His wife, Marie Mélanie d’Hervilly, will be united with him in the tomb, even as he has desired, and on it will be engraved the words written by him, "In this our tomb ashes shall mingle with ashes, bones with bones, even as the living were united in love."

Her intention was to be buried with Hahnemann, but 35 years later she was buried next to him, her wishes either forgotten or not followed. And although her remains are in Hahnemann's monument tomb in Père Lachaise Cemetery, they are still separated from his in their own coffin, and her name is not listed on the front of the large structure. Perhaps those in charge were too incensed about her refusals to release the sixth edition of the Organon to honor her. [For various reasons, which perhaps can be explored in another blog, it was not published until 1921.]

In the same year that the monument was finished in Paris (1900), a monument to Hahnemann in Washington D.C. was unveiled. Its approval was not easily won since Hahnemann was not an American, but the persistence of the local homeopaths paid off, and President McKinley finally gave the necessary permission for it. The man they honored, and his discovery, did “not belong alone to Germany but to the whole world.”

Samuel Hahnemann's death did not trigger the demise of homeopathy. Its fundamental truths had spread too far and had helped too many people to allow for its disappearance. Even when it suffered a decline, which it did for several decades after World War I, it re-emerged stronger than ever in the 1970s. [The reasons for the decline can perhaps be explored in another blog.]

The medical industries that are threatened by homeopathy's existence continue to attack it ferociously, using the same ridiculous (and conflicting) arguments that were used in Hahnemann’s day. On the one hand, homeopathy is dangerous because of the poisonous or noxious substances it sometimes employs; on the other hand, it's ineffective because the remedies contain no substance at all. Despite having no knowledge of modern-day physics, Hahnemann's answer to the question of small dilutions is perfect. He wrote, “This true maxim is not one that needs to be comprehended or blindly believed. I do not demand any belief with regard to it; neither do I expect it to be comprehended. I do not comprehend it either. It is an unalterable fact and it is proven by experience, on which I rely more than on reason.”

I hope you have enjoyed my 10-part blog on Dr. Samuel Hahnemann! Credit for it goes to the historians and homeopaths who took the time to research and write about him:

Thomas Lindsley Bradley, M.D: The Life and Letters of Dr. Samuel Hahnemann

Richard Haehl, M.D: Samuel Hahnemann, His Life and Work

Rima Handley, PhD: A Homeopathic Love Story, The Story of Samuel and Melanie Hahnemann

Martin Gumpert: Hahnemann, The Adventurous Career of a Medical Rebel

Robert Jütte: Samuel Hahnemann, The Founder of Homeopathy (Margot Saar translation)

Next time: I agree with Hahnemann, who said in 1835, “Homeopathy will always be to me an adoration,” so another topic will be forthcoming. Stay tuned! If you have any comments about this series, or ideas for future series, I’d love to hear from you! W

rite to me at info@lucillelocklin.com.