Thesis Revisions: Contextualization in AR History

Howard C. Westwood, “The Federals’ Cold Shoulder to Arkansas’ Powell Clayton,” Civil War History 26, no. 3 (1980): 240-255.

Here Westwood tells the story of Reconstruction after Arkansas was reintegrated into the Union and Federal forces were removed. Ku Klux Klan violence was rampant, and the first Republican governor Powell Clayton was forced by a lack of federal aid to resort to the use of a rag-tag, ill-disciplined volunteer militia to protect citizens from their midnight murdering sprees.

Westwood notes that the Klan’s activities were, relative to the other regions of the state, minor in the Northwest region. Martial law was only enacted there in a single county in 1868. (254)

Clayton decided to stay in Arkansas after he served as a general there during the war. Westwood claims that he was not much interested in politics until the era of congressional reconstruction, when he became an active Republican. He “strongly advocated the economic development of the state still so nearly primitive that the war had found it with less than forty miles of railroad.” (242) He seemed rather popular with Dems and Reps alike until the activities of his militiamen engendered distrust and hatred.

Carl H. Moneyhon, “The Creators of the New South in Arkansas: Industrial Boosterism, 1875-1885,” The Arkansas Historical Quarterly 55, no 4 (1996): 383-409.

Republicans ruled from 1867-1874, at which time–known as “Redemption”–the Democrats came back into power. Moneyhon argues that although one of their main objectives when ruling the state was to bring in industry and economic development, Reps, “aside from the railroads… achieved no long-lasting institutional changes that would have resulted in that objective.” Many saw the return of Dem rule as “an essential step for economic growth.” (388)

Moneyhon finds that most of the movers and shakers–the proponents of a new, industrialized Arkansas–came from elsewhere. Many were from northern states and had fought for the Union during the Civil War amongst a population that was primarily composed of ex-Confederates. (389-92)

Proponents of a New South economy stressed the need to diversify in a state that had primarily relied upon cotton production. (395)
This could include tourism, though Moneyhon doesn’t mention it. 

Recognized need to publicize Arkansas’ attributes; wanted a mining, manufacturing, and immigration bureau for marketing and the compilation of “hard information on the results of immigration–the numbers who arrived and their economic impact on local communities.” This had been formed under Rep govt in 1875 but was undermined by a lack of funding. (401)

Beverly Watkins, “Efforts to Encourage Immigration to Arkansas, 1865-1874,” The Arkansas Historical Quarterly 38, no. 1 (1979): 32-62.

Arkansas was decimated after the war, suffering from “a total disruption of the labor system.” (32)

Hoped to attract white settlers; thought immigration would help with labor shortage and would bring capital into the struggling state. “As suffrage was being given to all classes and races, he [author of editorial in Arkansas Gazette] felt that the state should invite immigration from Europe in order to maintain a ‘Caucasian majority.'” Also hoped more immigrants would help state economize on its many natural resources. (38)

Immigration was seen as a remedy, and people both Unionists and Confederates were hopeful for Arkansas’s future and writing just after the Civil War ended about its potential as a great place to invest and live. Watkins gives an example in Edward W. Grantt, who formed the Arkansas Immigrant Aid Society in 1865 “to encourage immigration and disseminate information about the state.” Powell Clayton and Dr. James A. Dibrell were both a part. They used pamphlets and booklets. (34-37)

 

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American Nervousness, 1903

Tom Lutz, American Nervousness, 1903: An Anecdotal History (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1991).

This is a strange one, but offers and interesting and valuable perspective on neurasthenia in its heyday primarily through the use of literary sources. Lutz takes what can loosely be described as a microhistorical approach with the goal of showing how a discourse of disease can be used to negotiate cultural change.

It would be incorrect to say that Lutz really “argues” anything in this book; rather, he’s taken a selection of literature and analyzed it in the context of the discourse surrounding neurasthenia. Most of his actors use it to express very different feelings about their cultural hopes and realities.

Most of the authors Lutz includes in his study trained and lived on the east coast, though some of them did write about the West. An exception is Hamlin Garland, who was born in Illinois and died in California. It appears that a theme in his works–especially Hesper–was the freedom the West provided its occupants (and, I presume, visitors) in contrast to the east, which was tightly controlled by “the master of money.” Earlier work in a similar vein includes that of Edward L. Wheeler, in which “Eastern speculators are painted as “simply villains…[whose] iron heel[s] do not belong in the West, where every man still has the ability to be his own master.” (109-110)

The West (undeveloped and rural) was thus understood in literature of the period to be free, juxtaposed in the minds of many with the regimented and capitalistic existence the East (urban) demanded of its inhabitants. Its untamed wilderness was understood as both aesthetically pleasing and as a metaphor for the space it provided its visitors to engage in relaxation, reflection, and reconnection with an older, more natural self that the overwhelming and disconnected nature of urban life had rendered inaccessible.

The discourse of neurasthenia and its nervous economy provided both doctors and invalids with a means of describing in a tangible, somatic way the anxieties of modernity, and therapeutics that increasingly emphasized travel created an ideal opportunity for Eureka Springs’ publicists to engage with discursive work already underway. If urban spaces were pathological to their upper-class denizens, rural towns with sufficiently fashionable accommodations and other natural, health-giving attributes were their obvious remedy. And early on in Eureka’s existence, this remedy did not necessarily require the supervision of a doctor; though, as we shall see, the science of climatology would challenge that freedom more aggressively in the next decade.

Lutz discusses the interest in developing national parks and its relationship to neurasthenic discourse at the very beginning of the 20th century, largely through Theodore Roosevelt and John Muir. Muir wrote in 1902 that, “the parks were primarily visited by ‘nerve-shaken’ brain-workers from the city and that the ‘retreat into the wilderness’ afforded by these parks was designed in specific response to the neurasthenic wear and tear of modern life.” Lutz reports that Muir and his naturalist colleagues made livings out of guiding wealthy health-seekers around wilderness areas. (91-92) Proof that wilderness=healthy within neurasthenic discourse.

Touches on the prevalence of nature metaphors during the period. This seems like a weak argument, though, unless this was when “natural” took on such a culturally powerful connotation. (143)

Bit on Charlotte Perkins Gilman, well-known for her criticism of the rest-cure. She was apparently a proponent of the nature cure as well, if we can judge by a poem she published in the May 1905 issue of Cosmopolitan. Titled “Just to Be Out of Doors,” it reads: (229)

[Charlotte Perkins Gilman, “Out of Doors,” in The Latter Works of Charlotte Perkins Gilman ed. Denise D. Knight (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1996), 146-147.]

Not sure that I can use one poem by a woman known to have been a bit counter-culture as evidence that women, too, were encouraged to get out into nature… hm.

Before Freud

F. G. Gosling, Before Freud: Neurasthenia and the American Medical Community, 1870-1910 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1987).

Gosling provides a history of neurasthenia before Freud entered the scene of American psychology that considers those outside the “elite” group of physicians (Beard, Mitchell, and co.) who developed the concept in the late 19th century. As a mental illness constructed by physicians and their patients, Gosling argues neurasthenia provides an excellent inroad into the “gender and class biases” that the disease served to justify.

Chapter 1: The Price of Progress

Starts with George M. Beard (how could you not), New York neurologist who came up with a new disease called “neurasthenia,” or “nervous exhaustion,” which lent legitimacy and respectability via a disease etiology to a class of people not insane (many continued to function in their jobs) but victim to an exhaustive collection vague of symptoms like “headache, fatigue, dyspepsia, [and] depression…” (9)

In Beard and his colleague’s estimation, the disease was uniquely American problem attributable to a people evolving slower than their technologies; “Arguing that cultural evolution had outstripped the pace of individual evolution, he maintained that specific features of the young American society — in particular the telegraph, the railroads, the periodical press, the sciences, and the atmosphere of political and religious liberty — had increased mental demands on Americans, especially on the urban professionals who labored with their heads rather than their hands.” (11)

Timeline — Written about by Beard in 1869, reached peak popularity in early 1900s and was fading in relevance after 1910. (13)

Goes into the history of neurology, which was (of course) modeled in America after Continental examples. First organization was the American Neurological Assocation, based on the east coast (35 people met in 1875 to form it, most of whom were from big eastern cities; “a few” lived in Chicago and St. Louis). Argues that “neurologists” were “curious blend[s] of physician, psychiatrist, and anatomist,” more like modern-day psychiatrists than neurologists “because of their emphasis on the emotions and the social origins of stress.” (16-17)

Lack of specialization in rural communities meant that GPs were treating neurasthenics. (25)

Chapter 2: Nerve Invalids All

Discusses physicians’ (not just the main ANA people) understanding of neurasthenia; when they diagnosed it, what symptoms were indicative of it.

“Many physicians believed that early intervention in cases of neurosurgery degeneration could often restore patients and prevent development of true psychosis. Though patients with pronounced mental symptoms could be trying, they could often be saved from asylums if physicians recognize the dangerous grounds on which they stood and implemented an early treatment program that incorporated mental as well as physical remedies.” (45)

Discusses sexual habits, work habits, etc., highlighting the way that genders and classes were asked different questions about their habits and had a different threshold for “overwork”; i.e., women who were engaged in activities that weren’t as culturally acceptable (going to college), this could be seen as an overexertion leading to the neurasthenic state. Men were asked more about their masturbation habits (and had diagnoses based upon them) because it wasn’t as sensitive of a subject with male patients and male doctors (it would be indelicate to ask a woman).

Therapeutics —

Treatment, based as it was on causes constructed from the patient’s class and gender, was often effectual, even if it seems extreme or stupid from a modern perspective; “Most of these patients were, in fact, ‘nervous’; they were not unwilling guinea pigs but sufferers who sought relief. If doctor and patient shared faith in a particular remedy — be it surgery, drugs, or applications of electricity — the patient was often truly benefited, though relief may have been temporary.” (62)

Understood as very idiosyncratic, based on a “thorough examination of the patient with complete family history, appropriate medicinals, and various psychological measures…” They were not often thought to work overnight, but required “tact, patience, judgement, and true sympathy” from doctor to patient. They often required close supervision from the doctor over a lengthy period of time. (67)

Chapter Three: On the Verge of Bankruptcy

Journal literature was extremely widespread; beginning with Beard’s enumeration of the disease, publications began appearing in the 1870s, had become a “flood” by the mid-’80s, and “reached a peak between 1900 and 1910.” (78)

Overwhelming variety of symptoms were placed into categories by Beard’s colleagues and successors, one of which was “digestive.” Seems to have included constipation and dyspepsia. (80) It was understood, however, that oftentimes the physical symptoms were the result of underlying mental distress. (83)

Usually diagnosed among the middle- and upper-classes because the neurologists developing the disease etiology treated mostly wealthy patients and because physicians often made distinctions between patients of different classes (their clinical vs. private practices). Working-class diagnoses were often attributed to muscular overwork, which could manifest in a form of the disease called “spinal congestion” (83-84)

Believed to be hereditary, leading to ideas of “constitutional nerve capacity,” and physicians encouraging patients to “live within their means of nervous energy.” (85-88)

Tried to acquire and air of scientific legitimacy via the “waste versus despair” theory and the diathesis concept — playing into electro-physics and physiology. Didn’t do much real research though. (88-89)

Modern transportation as pathological —
Survivors of railway and steamship accidents could have a sort of 19th century techno-induced PTSD – “Railway spine” (91-92)

Discussion of “overwork” in the context of middle-class white collar workers (92-95)
“Neurasthenia attributed to overwork occurred most often in men of the ‘better sort’ whose natural ambition and competitive environment drove them to the breakneck pace and assumption of too many responsibilities that all too often led to nervous exhaustion.”

Women’s neurasthenia more often attributed to the biological, resulting from “the upsetting of their more delicate nervous equilibrium.” Believed to be more numerous and more likely to be neurasthenic.

Gosling argues that literature from medical journals indicate a widespread and relatively consistent idea of what neurasthenia was — they use similar terms, even when they’re debating about the specifics. “…this knowledge was as available to country doctors and general practitioners as to urban neurologists; there were no significant differences between ANA members, independent neurologists, and non-neurologists in their perceptions of neurasthenia.” (105)

Chapter 4: Not the Physic but the Physician

Much less agreement as far as treatment went; usually aimed at treating symptoms, falling into major categories — “rest, regulation of the diet, exercise either active or — in a form such as hydrotherapy — ‘passive,’ and drugs to aid digestion, enervate the nervous system, or induce sleep…” Often employed several methods. (108-109)

More doctors recommended travel as the century wore on (second most popular treatment option after rest in 1900) (108)

Sometimes suggested exercise, which would improve appetite, digestion, increase muscle tone, and distract the sufferer from his/her problems. (120) Passive exercise was recommended for patients too weak or in pain for physical activity; hydrotherapy was a popular option and included the use of methods as wide ranging as “enemas to sponge baths…[and] hot and cold packs to the spine.” (122)

“Exercise ‘dissociated from one’s vocation,’ changes of scenery, and new associations” were believed to break “habitual patterns of behavior,” providing a refreshing change. These changes helped establish healthier lifestyles and modes of thinking. Less based in physiology/hard science, this kind of ‘mental therapy’ grew in popularity toward the end of the 19th century. (132)

One “excellent example” of this trend is climatotherapy; physicians and specialists began prescribing travel “to a more healthful environment to replenish… nerve stock.” Concedes that there was some debate about what kinds of environments/climates were especially salubrious, but mountains were definitely up there. (133)

 

 

Exhaustion and the Pathologization of Modernity

Anna Katharina Schaffner, “Exhaustion and the Pathologization of Modernity,” Journal of Medical Humanities 37, no 3 (2016): 327-341.

Argues that “exhaustion,” typically paired with other, varying symptoms, has factored into medical discourse in the 18th, 19th, 20th, and 21st centuries, and has functioned as a medicalized critique of technological advancement. Looks at works by George Cheyne, George Beard, Richard von Krafft-Ebing, Sigmund Freud, Alain Ehrenberg and Jonathan Crary.

On Beard and American Nervousness —
Sets backdrop by discussing the idea of nervous energy as finite
“The causes of neurasthenia were firmly attributed to the external world, to technological and social changes that drained the limited energy reserves of modern men and women. The modern environment, particularly the urban environment, was thought to generate too many stimuli such that the senses were incessantly assaulted by noise, sights, speed and information. Beard feared that the sensitive nervous systems of the modern subject would be unable to cope with this sensory overload.” (331)
Discusses the fact that the disease was held to be particularly prevalent in the upper-classes and argues that Beard constructed neurasthenia to more of “a badge of honor than a disease.”
“In his account, neurasthenia is construed as a marker of evolutionary refinement and social and intellectual status, a condition signalling sensitivity, industriousness and sophistication,” as well as a sign of American-ness (adding a patriotic dimension). (332)
“As a wound inflicted by modernity, exhaustion could be borne as proudly as a battle scar.” (333)

New line of argument for thesis; people came to the springs to escape the city, which was understood as overly stimulating and unhealthful. Discourse at the springs had to emphasize the opposite; relaxing, slow-moving, natural, a-scientific. Prove by finding language of neurasthenia in testimonials.
Doctor’s role? Playing into neurasthenic discourse as well, also providing testimonials asserting the springs’ efficacy in nervous illnesses (and by extension dyspepsia). Are doctors talking about this in local publications? If not, this speaks to the clout vernacular audiences had in establishing medical meanings at the springs.

The Last Resort

Vladimir Jankovic, “The Last Resort: A British Perspective on the Medical South, 1815-1870,” Journal of Intercultural Studies 27, no. 3 (2006): 271-298.

In this piece on British health travel to the Mediterranean, Jankovic aims to focus on the “…ways in which the medical reasoning and disease etiology impinged on the choice of resorts and regimens, and how such choice meshed with the broad understanding of the region based not only on the geographical and medical documents but also on its changing cultural stereotypes.” (272) He argues that medical opinion explained some aspects of health travel, but not all, as evidenced by the rapidly changing resort hotspots. Though Jankovic asserts that the “career of British climatotherapy… often drew upon the lay rather than scientific consensus and… often passed it verdicts in accordance to the Victorian environmental mores rather than observations, mortality tables or climatological statistics…,” he acknowledges the vital role that the “garb of impartiality and… use of scientific jargon…” played in legitimizing and differentiating different resorts. (272-73)

Explains how temperature was understood to be a determinant of environment-specific physiologies and moralities (environmental determinism) (275)

Some physicians (?) (Sir James Clark) were calling for a more “scientific” approach to health traveling, insisting that “the migration South ought to be based on the knowledge of climatic specificity and the taxonomy of resorts based on morbidity statistics,” but this taxonomy was only beginning to emerge in the 1830s. The prerogative to travel and choice of destination were considered primarily in the context of social factors; “fashion and custom ruled.” (276)

Jankovic touches on the “diseases of civilization,” which, alongside chronic physical illnesses like TB, skin diseases, kidney and liver issues, and cancer, afflicted many health travelers.

Similar to the book on health-seeking in the West by the guy from OU, this article touches on health travel as impetus for territorial/colonial expansion (277)

Science and statistics coming into resort therapy: “From the mid-nineteenth century…[n]ew medical researchers began to seek the attention of the public and the profession by using whatever (quantitative) observations they could put their hands on to dissect climatological hearsay which, in their view, had spurred a facile and unjustified veneration of Southern Europe among the deluded expatriates.” (281)
Use of data to find “truth” in accounts of therapeutic efficacy — attempt to base traveling for health on a scientific epistemology.
“For this emerging group of climatotherapeutic statisticians only a careful attention to meteorological conditions might dispel (or confirm) popular perception and determine which, if any, of the environmental factors could be identified as curative in landscapes of brighter sun, drier air, and warmer breeze.”

Anti-resort therapy science: Discussion of the counter-narrative (exemplified by the work of John Charles Atkinson and Thomas Burgess), which held climatotherapy to be a fad; Atkinson believed that “fresh air” didn’t help cure people and that traveling was dangerous. People were better suited to the climates from whence they came, and modifications in temperature exposure could be conducted in the home by wearing more or less clothes and using heaters, respirators, etc. “Such arguments made understandable the fact that eudiometry (the sciences of measuring the ‘virtue’ of pure air) and chemical analyses failed to discriminate…” between air/water from resorts and from inner cities. Both men used statistics to bolster their arguments against the effectiveness of warm climates on mostly TB. (283-285)

Jankovic uses a controversy over the salubrity of Madeira’s climate to delve into the role of science in determining health benefits/disadvantages. James Mackenzie Bloxam, who traveled to Madeira for health reasons yearly, wrote out against the scientists defaming the resort. “The thrust of Bloxam’s argument was to challenge the validity of scientific methods in identifying the influence of climate on disease, especially when independent means existed by which these influences could be demonstrated… [d]ata might be fictions made up by badly calibrated instruments, and read by people without qualification and experience.” Bloxam was bothered by the total reliance on “meteorological journals and quantitative science,” believing that it should be accompanied by “a clinical picture or patients’ own reports.” “Why use science…[when] common knowledge and personal feeling would suffice? Why call upon meteorologists when patients might be more qualified to pass the climatological verdict?” “Bloxam appealed to tradition and common sense. He thought that the practice of medical travel was sufficiently established to tolerate an ‘expert’ intervention from the outsiders like Burgess.” (288-289)
This is the same sentiment I see in early ads for ES. When science fails to explain therapeutic effects that have been witnessed, the inclination of those who have witnessed it (or just want to believe?) is to question the authority of science in the realm of therapeutics. Is not the patient’s experience a more important component to understanding therapeutic efficacy? Why bring in a scientist to determine the answer to a question that’s already been determined in a much more immediate, real way?

In the end, science (statistics) wins the battle. It gains authority in the field of climatotherapeutics. Despite these misgivings about scientific intrusion, Madeira was obsolete two decades later. Doctors quit sending their patients there. Mounting evidence of the resort’s failure to cure, and even exacerbation of, TB, lent credence to “the quantitative approach to… Mediterranean climatotherapy,” and its propensity to influence “…the medical profession’s judgement on the value of health travel…” “Scientific writers presented their case as a long-overdue audit of a complacent medical opinion that concealed professional idiosyncrasy, anecdotal evidence, and social prejudice. Climatologists staged a putsch using the weapon of impartiality.”

Imperial Leather

Overall impression:

If you’re looking for an example of intersectionality — the idea that gender, race, and class are categories that create and reinforce on another — this book is an excellent example of a history where those issues are addressed without losing any of their complexity. I really get what people are saying about them all being hopelessly intertwined and complicated.

It’s also an excellent example of how different history looks when you take a gendered approach to something. It’s not a feminist history — McClintock spends as much time discussing masculinity as she does femininity — but because it focuses on the domestic sphere, it is able to get at women’s experiences in a way that most histories don’t.

Introduction:

McClintock has a problem with binaries and linear, progressive understandings of history.

She hopes to bring gender, class, and race to the forefront of postcolonial scholarship.

I like her contention that you can’t study women’s experience by excluding men’s. You can’t study Black history without considering whites. I think a big problem in the movement to study the other is to do so by excluding what has been the subject of historians for so long — white men — in order to focus on the many Others. Unfortunately, and I think McClintock would agree, this isn’t going to produce an accurate history. You can’t understand femininity without placing it into the context of masculinity. This doesn’t mean you have to focus on the latter, but to not include it because you’re trying to fill in a gap that’s been part of the historical record thus far is shortsighted and inaccurate.

Chapters on Munby:

Munby grew up surrounded by the contradictory conception of Victorian womanhood as embodied by two women; his upper-class mother, unpaid for domestic labor, “physically delicate and adored from afar,” and his nanny, a lower-class woman who was poorly paid for domestic labor. McClintock argues that Munby’s “chief strategy for managing the contradictions… [was] the imperial discourse on race…” (80)

Analyzes Freud’s Oedipal theory in terms of Victorian gender constructions.

Draws parallels between Munby’s practice of seeking out, documenting, and classifying lower-class female working “types” and what imperialists were doing in the empire.

Seeks to tease apart the relationship between “fetishism, domesticity, and empire” in the second chapter through Munby’s longtime relationship with Cullwick, a working class woman who he makes his wife.

To not give Cullwick agency in the story “runs the very real risk of accepting ‘Victorian sexist and classist thinking as an accurate reflection of the social world as it actually was.'” (139-40)
Interesting. We can’t assume that those who have had the dominant voices in the past have been dictating it as it actually was. We have to take into account other sources and read them against the grain to find out the reality of life. 

“Dirt, like all fetishes, thus expresses a crisis in value, for it contradicts the liberal dictum that social wealth is created by the abstract, rational principles of the market and not by labor.” (154)

IMG_0691

Really gets at women’s experiences by looking at things that are part of the domestic sphere: soap, cleaning, servants, etc.

Questions:

What does McClintock mean by “fetish”?

What place does psychoanalysis have in history…?

Juan H. Wright, Analytical Chemist

E. H. S. Bailey, “Vol VII. Special Report on Mineral Waters,” in The University Geological Survey of Kansas (Topeka: W. Y. Morgan, 1902).

Analysis of Arlington Springs, KS, no. 1-3, divided into ions and hypothetically combined (277-279)

Analysis of Wetmore mineral springs, KS, divided into ions and hypothetically combined (300)

Chapter VI: Methods of Analysis, of Calculation, and of Stating Results – discusses how tests should be run, but it appears that some analyses “are by other chemists than those of the survey.” So we don’t get a sense of how Wright may have conducted his, although it points to his being pretty progressive by breaking it down between ions and hypothetical combinations.

Alfred N. Cook & C. F. Eberly, “The Sioux City Water Supply,” in The Proceedings of the Iowa Academy of the Sciences for 1901, vol. IX (Des Moines: B. Murphy, 1902): 90-101.

Made an analysis of The Artesian Well in Sioux City, IA, in May of 1883 (97-98), which is markedly different from an analysis made of it a year later by Prof. Thomas E. Pope of the Iowa Agricultural College.

Transactions of the National Eclectic Medical Association, for the Years 1882-83, vol. X, ed. Alexander Wilder (Orange: Chronicle Book and Job Printing Office, 1883).

Member of the Eclectic Medical Society of Missouri; inducted into the National Eclectic Medical Association at their 1882-83 meeting. Assigned to present on malaria at the next annual meeting.

Albert C. Peale, Lists and Analyses of the Mineral Springs of the United States in Bulletin of the USGS no. 32 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1886).

Analyzed springs in Texas (Pate Sour Well at Sulpher Springs & Weaver Well) and Kansas (Henek’s Mineral Springs) in 1882.

Juan H. Wright, M. D., and Albert Merrell, M. D. “Monumental Evidence – For Strength, Purity, and Wholesomeness, the Royal Baking Powder Stands Unsurpassed!” Daily Evening Bulletin (San Francisco, California) 28 Dec. 1882.
Same article reprinted here: The News and Observer (Raleigh, North Carolina), [Saturday], [January 06, 1883]; Issue 93.
Same again: St. Louis Globe-Democrat (St. Louis, Missouri), Tuesday, June 10, 1884
And again: Rocky Mountain News (Denver, Colorado), Monday, July 14, 1884
And again: St. Louis Globe-Democrat (St. Louis, Missouri), Tuesday, July 22, 1884
And again: The Milwaukee Sentinel (Milwaukee, Wisconsin), Tuesday, July 22, 1884
And again: Daily Evening Bulletin (San Francisco, California), Wednesday, August 20, 1884
And again: Southwestern Christian Advocate (New Orleans, Louisiana), Thursday, August 28, 1884
Variation here: Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper (New York, New York), Saturday, January 06, 1883; pg. 336
And here: The Galveston Daily News (Houston, Texas), Friday, January 12, 1883
And here: The Cleveland Herald (Cleveland, Ohio), Thursday, June 26, 1884; pg. 8

Testing “Royal Baking Powder” for purity — it’s pure! Wright was obviously alright using his skills in analytical chemistry for advertising purposes.

“Pure Apple Vinegar Vs. Sulphnric Vinegar.” St. Louis Globe-Democrat [St. Louis, Missouri] 8 Apr. 1883.

Printed correspondence between Dr. Wright and Ira Bouttel & Co., who produced apple vinegar. Wright received barrels and tested their purity, concluding that they were composed of “pure fruit and entirely free from any injurious adulterant.”

“Ecleciic Graduates,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat (St. Louis, Missouri), [Friday], [June 01, 1883]; pg. 6

Listed as a faculty member at the “American Medical College.” Seems to have been a colleague of John W. Thrailkill.

“Yesterday’s Death List,”St. Louis Globe-Democrat (St. Louis, Missouri), Tuesday, October 09, 1883.

Died October 8, 1883 at the City Hospital of “softening of the brain” at 35 years old.