Hahnemann: The Father of Homepathy - Part 7

In 1821, Dr. Samuel Hahnemann, 66 years old, moved away from Leipzig and his teaching position at the university to remove himself from the “pretensions of any apothecary.” [See part 6.] He was tired of the constant fighting—with the apothecaries, as well as with the physicians who had joined forces with them. Some of his followers accused him of giving up, but he knew that removal from the discord was what he required in order to finish his research, and he also wanted to practice homeopathy without restrictions. Hahnemann’s desire was fulfilled when Grand Duke Frederick of Anhalt-Köthen, whom Hahnemann had cured of a complicated disease, offered him sanctuary in his kingdom. [Germany at that time was divided into small but absolute kingdoms, with their own laws and customs.]

Hahnemann thought he had found a haven under the protection of Grand Duke Frederick but the reality was slightly different. Rural Köthen was only 43 miles from urban Liepzig, but the route between the two was neither well-paved nor well-marked; it was easy to get lost at crossroads—all of which made visiting Hahnemann an ordeal for his followers. Also, the Köthen townspeople did not welcome him with open arms. They called him “Evil Wizard,” and one of them threw a rock through his window the first week he was there. He wasn’t sure he could stay, and wrote a friend in Berlin, “I cannot live here quietly much longer because of the many chicaneries, and I must seek out a new place of abode.” But his position as the Grand Duke’s personal physician was too good an appointment to abandon. And, fortunately, once the townspeople came to know Hahnemann, they accepted him. The “Evil Wizard” became “The Hermit.”

Hahnemann reportedly spent his first few months in seclusion, seldom leaving his new home except to visit the Grand Duke professionally. If a former patient or one of his followers needed him, they had to visit him at his house—not easy, considering the roads—or write to him. Hahnemann promptly answered his mail, sometimes sending a needed medicine to a patient. Interestingly, six months after Hahnemann moved to Köthen, the authorities in Leipzig granted homeopaths, “under certain conditions,” the right to dispense their own medicines (see part 6). Despite that, Hahnemann continued living in Köthen with his “more perfect liberty.” He was happy to relinquish command of the ongoing battle to his younger followers, who had the stamina and drive to keep fighting. His abandonment of the battlefield did nothing to ease the Old School’s persecutions, so the new generals had their work cut out for them.

Hahnemann passed much time in his new home’s back garden, and on pleasant days took a drive in his carriage. But he was not idle. He now had the quiet, meditative time in which to finalize and perfect his new method, and this he did with renewed vigor and concentration. While in Köthen, he published the third, fourth, and fifth editions of his “Organon of Medicine,” and newer editions of his Materia Medica Pura as well. He also published his book on chronic disease, which has been called “that great monument to his genius.”

A year before the book was published, Hahnemann shared his findings on chronic disease with the two homeopathic physicians whom he trusted the most: Johann Ernst Staph and Gustav Wilhelm Gross. He wanted to be sure to pass on the information since he was 73 years old and believed “it was not improbable that I might be called into eternity before I could complete this book.”

“The Chronic Diseases: Their Peculiar Nature and Their Homeopathic Cure” was published in 1828. After long years of research, thousands of experiments, and the peace and quiet that gave him uninterrupted time for reflection, Hahnemann finally completed his compendium on Homeopathy. He had, for years, seen that there were some ailments that could not be permanently cured by Homeopathy and which he termed “the remains of some deep-seated chronic disease.” In this book, Hahnemann gave guidance on how to obliterate these ancient chronic diseases. But it introduced a complexity into prescribing that certain homeopathic physicians didn’t want to believe existed. The book caused a sharp divide in the homeopathic community. [An aside: The complexity is widely accepted today, but one must attain a very good homeopathic education with knowledgeable teachers in order to understand it. If one is a “lay practitioner,” it’s best to treat only acute disease and/or make first aid recommendations. One should never try to treat chronic ailments unless Hahnemann’s lessons on chronic disease are thoroughly understood.]

Hahnemann was living in Köthen when the 50th anniversary of his graduation from medical school rolled around (August 10, 1829). He had been in Köthen eight years, and by this time the townspeople had accepted him so thoroughly that he had had to hire an assistant to keep pace with his patients. As old as he was, he stayed very busy between his local patients, all those who wrote to him for help, and those who came to him as pupils. “The Hermit” was beloved, and everyone in the town pitched in to organize what would become an annual celebration. His friends wished for a reliable likeness of him and engaged portrait painter Schoppe, from Berlin, and sculptor Dietrich Jun, from Leipzig. From all parts of Germany and beyond, friends and former pupils came to honor Hahnemann at this Fest-Jubilee, and several gave him presents. The Duke and Duchess attended as well, and gave him a gold snuff box and a valuable antique drinking cup.

Hahnemann “gave thanks to God that he had been allowed to make so sublime a discovery and that he had been continued in bodily and mental vigor.” And he thanked his many friends. He wrote, “I can bear much joy and grief, but I was hardly able to stand the surprise of so many, and such strong proofs of the kindness and affection of my disciples and friends with which I was overwhelmed on the 10th of August.” The celebration also showed him that all his hard work had not been in vain. The seed of Homeopathy was now so deeply rooted, its growth so widely spread, that there was no stopping it.

Sadly, less than a year later, Hahnemann’s wife of 48 years died. She had been ailing for many years and refused all medications at the end. Hahnemann wrote, “After great suffering, fever, and pains, she at length gently fell asleep in our arms with the cheerfullest expression in the world, to wake up in eternity.” Their youngest daughter, Louise, whose husband had died, came to Köthen to give support during her mother’s last days and stayed. His daughter Charlotte had never married or moved away. The two daughters kept house for Hahnemann, the widower, who expected nothing more out of life than to make that final journey into eternity to join his wife.

It’s funny how reality often goes contrary to our expectations. Hahnemann's predictable life took an interesting turn, taking him completely by surprise. Until next time….