Whatever happened to the "Terre Haute madstone?"

You know, the miraculous object that purportedly brought Abraham Lincoln and his son to the city after young Robert was bitten by a rabid dog?

For nearly a century, the small porous mass owned by Mary I. Taylor was known from coast-to-coast as a rare antidote for rabies, then referred to as hydrophobia.

Until the discovery of a vaccine in 1885 by Louis Pasteur, rabies was among the world's most dreaded contagious diseases, attacking the central nervous system.

Mrs. Taylor's curious gem was not the only recognized madstone. There have been many. Some equivocate the American madstone to the ancient Egyptians' snakestone. Only pharaohs could possess a snakestone, the sole known remedy for venomous bites.

Taylor's madstone was by far the most notorious, but research has unearthed at least two similar objects in Vigo County over the years.

In May 1858, the Rev. Samuel K. Sparks advised he possessed one for 30 years "during which time its virtue has been frequently tested and always proved successful."

Terre Haute resident Mary E. Piper claimed ownership of a madstone in 1904.

In February 1848, the Wabash Express reported that a madstone "owned by a widow lady [probably Mrs. Taylor) in Terre Haute," had cured three hydrophobia cases in two months, the last being "a Mr. Hicklin, living in western Vigo."

On May 14, 1858, Isaac M. Brown, editor of the Terre Haute Daily Union, urged the City Council to acquire a madstone for community use, citing the astonishing story related by Seth B. Stanton of Mount Pleasant, Iowa.

After being attacked by a rabid cat, Stanton headed to Terre Haute to be treated by Mrs. Taylor. Upon arriving at Alton, Ill., with a high fever, swollen eyes, twitching, green-spotted skin and an inflamed throat, he learned about another madstone owned by Samuel Treble of Brighton, Ill. According to his narrative, Treble's rock saved his life.

A syndicated newspaper story dated in January 1888 identified Mrs. Taylor's relic as "one of five madstones" in the U.S. One was owned by Charles J. Sauter of Dyer, Ind.

Not all madstones shared the same origin. According to the Journal of American Medicine dated May 12, 1900, some were "a porous form of calcareous rock." The great majority, however, were calcified concretions occasionally found in the upper intestine of herbivorous animals, particularly deer.

Mrs. Taylor's stone resembled a small petrified black sponge. The one owned by Rev. Sparks was yellow and looked like a porous bone.

The manner of application was nearly universal. The madstone was soaked in water before being applied to the open dog or cat bite wound. If the stone adhered to the lesion, the presence of venom was confirmed.

The stone was allowed to absorb the poison until it "fell off." Then it would be placed in warm cow's milk, invariably transforming it into a murky green liquid. After an hour, the process was repeated until the stone refused to cling to the laceration.

Instead of placing the stone directly on the bite, Mrs. Taylor scraped skin off a spot between the bite wound and the victim's heart and placed the object on the new sore.

In 1865 the Boston Transcript described how the "Terre Haute madstone" had saved the life of a Warren County boy after adhering to his body for 14 hours.

The association with Lincoln undoubtedly elevated the Terre Haute madstone to special prominence. References identifying slang phrases (or "Americanisms"), including one written by Charles Earle Funk, editor-in-chief of Funk & Wagnalls Standard Dictionary, sometimes cite Lincoln's Terre Haute visit in their definition of the word.

Lincoln scholar Louis A. Warren, former director of the Lincoln National Life Foundation in Fort Wayne, acknowledged the tradition but was unable to pinpoint the date of the Lincolns' visit. Terre Haute poet-philosopher Max Ehrmann was convinced of its validity though he could not document it after months of research.

In 1888, Mrs. Taylor asserted that her madstone had treated 1,300 people without a single death resulting. Yet, she did not publicly claim to treat Robert Lincoln.

Taylor's madstone was transported to Indiana from Virginia early in the 19th century by her father, Robert Murphy. When Murphy died, the stone was divided between his two daughters: Mary (Mrs. Stephen H.) Taylor and "Mrs. Peters of Sullivan."

Dr. John Wesley Davis of Carlisle -- later Congressman and Speaker of the House of Representatives -- reported the failure of Murphy's madstone to save the life of Samuel Postlewaite of Sullivan County in a letter to the Vincennes Sun dated March 12, 1932.

Dr. Davis did not condemn use of the stone -- because there was no other cure available -- but warned the public "not to rely on its efficiency in all cases."

In January 1886 -- more than 50 years after the incident -- Mrs. Taylor asserted in a letter to the Terre Haute Gazette that Postlewaite died "from delirium tremens," not rabies. Moreover, due to his drunken condition, Postlewaite did not allow the madstone to work its magic and removed it after a few hours to go into Carlisle to buy a drink.

Taylor did not advertise her madstone or urge anyone to use it. And, unlike many other madstone owners, she did not impose a standard fee for its use but accepted whatever was offered. Once she received $1,000 from the satisfied parent of a victim.

Stephen and Mary Taylor had at least two children, John and Katie. There may have been another child named Sallie. Mary was a widow for many years, successively residing at 530 N. Fifth St., 810 N. Fifth St., and 530 N. Ninth St.

About 50 years ago, local historian Dorothy Clark examined an object represented to be the famous Taylor madstone. Its whereabouts have not been traced since that time.