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R.G. Milling, an unorthodox healer, arrived in towns such as Cisco, Rising Star and Mineral Wells at the perfect time in history.
A self-declared magnetic healer, Milling followed the people who flocked to “take the waters.” Before the days of antibiotics, mineral waters and men like Milling were believed to have near-magical powers. Milling came by his charisma naturally. His father, H H Milling, came to Mineral Wells with only a borrowed $50 bill, but eventually opened up a 100-room sanitorium and became a wealthy, civic-minded businessman. When the young Milling cured his mother of phlebitis by rubbing and massaging her legs, his parents didn’t waste any time. They gave him a set of medical encyclopedias, but Milling didn’t want a life in the library — he yearned for the adventure found in none other than Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.
After running off for several years, he returned and it was obvious he had learned to be a dashing showman. Milling added to his mystique by growing his hair past shoulder-length and wearing a silk top hat and a fine frock-tailed coat. Or at times he wore an exotic Indian headband in recognition of his Cherokee ancestry. Milling started farming in Stephenville in 1890, but he eventually opened the first Milling Sanitarium. He practiced hands-on healing and called himself a “rubbing doctor,” “The Long-Haired Doctor” or “The Indian Adept.” After his wife died, he moved to Rising Star and later to Cisco’s Whitehouse Hotel where he set up a practice. He knew that medical licensing laws were about to change so he urged patients to try his healing treatment without pills. He knew from experience that the mainstream medical community did not care for his magnetic healing treatments, which required neither drugs nor surgery. According to Miller’s theory, there was a universal magnetic fluid in the body. If there was too little or too much fluid, people had problems in the body which caused disease. Treatment involved restoring fluid to a balance by rubbing and some doctors actually passed over the body with magnets. The Texas State Journal of Medicine in 1915, reported that the “famous, long-haired magnetic healer” of Cisco, R.G. Milling, was tried under the stricter medical practice laws. The article stated that he was fined $50 and sentenced to one day in jail. The medical community was trying to regulate healers and quacks. In defense, Milling testified that “99 percent of those who came to me had been treated by everything and could find no relief.” He said he had treated 3,000 patients and only six had died — did any of the doctors present have such a record? Whatever deficiency doctors saw in his methods, his patients stoutly defended his abilities. Cisco businessmen said he was a “good man,” and the doctors were unfairly picking on him because he was their competition who defied traditional medicine. A prominent lady who had a “withered, dangling arm” said that she was now fine, thanks to Milling. Conflict bothered Milling a lot so he left Cisco for Eliasville where he planned to farm. But stepping away from the spotlight was difficult, especially when devoted followers tracked him down. He healed a few people and headed for Gunsight where he was later arrested for room and board overcharges ($2 a night) and then to Putnam (alias Catclaw). This little town could have rivaled Mineral Wall’s spa monopoly if the water had been discovered first. But Milling moved to the town because of its mineral water and potential for a sanitarium. Dubbed as the “Renowned Healer,” Miller advertised facilities with steam heat, electric lights and free masseur treatments for $1 per day. He offered medical treatments for free and claimed to be able to cure rheumatism, neurology, gallstones, appendicitis, morphine addiction and more. Despite great success, Milling sold his sanitarium in 1917 and returned to Cisco. The Cisco newspaper printed his 24-page booklet, The Way to Health Without Drugs or the Knife the same year he returned. Milling continued to be viewed as a quack or a healer, depending upon a person’s viewpoint. Whatever he was, people believed that he cared for them and could cure them.
One amazing cure was a boy who had been paralyzed after heatstroke and was told he would never walk again. The boy’s brother testified that within three days the boy was walking with a slight limp and would work every day until he was 72 years old. Ironically, after Milling retired, he died after an unsuccessful operation for a kidney ailment at Dallas Baylor Hospital. |
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