The Funny Side of Physic
by Addison Darre Crabtre · English · Gutenberg #41595 · 1,194,128 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Funny Side of Physic
Author: Addison Darre Crabtre
Release date: December 10, 2012 [eBook #41595]
Most recently updated: November 27, 2024
Language: English
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[Illustration]
THE FUNNY SIDE OF PHYSIC:
OR,
THE MYSTERIES OF MEDICINE,
PRESENTING THE
HUMOROUS AND SERIOUS SIDES OF MEDICAL PRACTICE.
AN EXPOSÉ OF
MEDICAL HUMBUGS, QUACKS, AND CHARLATANS
IN ALL AGES AND ALL COUNTRIES.
By A. D. CRABTRE, M. D.
HARTFORD:
J. B. BURR & HYDE.
CHICAGO AND CINCINNATI:
J. B. BURR, HYDE & COMPANY.
1872.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
J. B. BURR AND HYDE,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
PREFACE.
The books which most please while instructing the reader, are those which
mingle the lively and gay with the sedate spirit in the narration of
important facts. The verdict of the reader of this work must be (it is
modestly suggested), that the author has luckily hit the happy vein in its
construction.
Of all facts which bear upon human happiness or sorrow, those which serve
to increase the former, and alleviate or banish the latter, are most
desirable for everybody to know; and of all professions which most
intimately concern the personal well-being of the public at large, that of
the physician is most important. The author of this book has spared no
pains of research to collect the facts of which he discourses, and has
endeavored to cover the whole ground embraced by his subject with
pertinent and important suggestions, statements, scientific discoveries,
incidents in the career of great physicians, etc., and to fix them in the
reader's mind by _apt anecdotes, which will be found in abundance
throughout the work_.
There is no better man in the world than the true physician, and no more
base wretch than the ordinary "Quack," or medical charlatan. If the author
has spared no pains of study to make his book acceptable, he may be said,
also, to have as unsparingly visited his indignation upon the quacks who
have all along the line of historic medicine disgraced the physician's and
the surgeon's profession.
The general public but little understand what a vast amount of ignorance
has at times been cunningly concealed by medical practitioners, and how
grossly the people of every city and village are even nowadays trifled
with by some who arrogate to themselves the honorable title of Doctor of
Medicine.
Herein not only the base and the good physician, but the honorable and the
trifling apothecary, receive their due reward, or well-merited punishment,
so far as the pen can give them. The reader will be utterly surprised when
he comes to learn how the quacks of the past and the present have brought
themselves into note by tricks and schemes very similar and equally
infamous. The wanton trifling with the health and life of their patients,
the greed of gain, and the perfect destitution of all moral nature, which
some of these men have exhibited in their career, are astounding.
The apothecaries, as well as physicians, are descanted on, and the
miserable tricks to which the large majority of them resort, exposed. The
public will be astonished to find what trash in the matter of drugs it
pays for; how filthy, vile, and often poisonous and hurtful materials
people buy for medicines at extortionate prices; how even the syrups which
they drink in soda drawn from costly and splendid fountains are often made
from the most filthy materials, and are not fit for the lower animals, not
to say human beings, to drink. And this fact is only illustrative of
hundreds of others set forth in this work.
This work not only exposes the multifold frauds of quacks, apothecaries,
travelling doctors, soothsayers, fortune-tellers, certain clairvoyants,
and "spiritual mediums," and the like, who "practise medicine" to a more
or less extent, or profess to discover and heal diseases,--but it points
out to the reader the most approved rules for protecting the health, and
recovering it when lost. In short, it is a work embodying the most sound
advice, founded upon the judgment of the best physicians of the past and
present, as tested in the Author's experience for a period of twenty
years' active practice. In other words, it is a compendium of sound
medical advice, as well as a racy, lively, and incisive dissection and
exposure of the villanies of quacks and other medical empirics, etc.
Persons of all ages will find the work not only interesting to read, but
most valuable in a practical sense. To the young who would shun the crafts
and villanies to which they must be exposed as they grow up,--for all are
liable to be more or less ill at times,--it will prove invaluable,
enabling them to detect the spurious from the reliable in medicine, and
how to judge between the pretentious charlatan (even enjoying a large
ride) and the true physician. And none are so old that they may not reap
great advantages from the work.
CONTENTS.
I. MEDICAL HUMBUGS.
ORIGIN AND APPLICATION OF "HUMBUG."--A FIFTH AVENUE HUMBUG.--
JOB'S OPINION OF DOCTORS.--EARLY PHYSICIANS.--PRIESTS AS
DOCTORS.--WIZARDS COME TO GRIEF.--A "CAPITAL" OPERATION.--A
WOMAN CUT INTO TWELVE PIECES.--ANECDOTE.--ROBIN HOOD'S LITTLE
JOKE.--TIT FOR TAT. ENGLISH HUMBUGS.--FRENCH DITTO.--A
FORTUNE ON DIRTY WATER.--AMERICAN HUMBUGS.--A FIRST CLASS
"DODGE."--A FREE RIDE.--A SHARP INTERROGATOR.--DOCTOR
PUSBELLY.--A WICKED STAGE-DRIVER'S STORY.--"OLD PILGARLIC"
TAKES A BATH.--LUDICROUS SCENE.--PROFESSOR BREWSTER. 19
II. APOTHECARIES.
FIRST MENTION OF.--A POOR SPECIMEN.--ELIZABETHAN.--KING JAMES
I. [VI.].--ALLSPICE AND ALOES, SUGAR AND TARTAR EMETIC.--
WAR.--PHYSICIAN VS. APOTHECARY.--IGNORANCE.--STEALING A
TRADE.--A LAUGHABLE PRESCRIPTION.--"CASTER ILE."--MODERN DRUG
SWALLOWING.--MISTAKES.--"STEALS THE TOOLS ALSO."--
SUBSTITUTES.--"A QUID."--A "SMELL" OF PATENT MEDICINES.--"A
SAMPLE CLERK." 61
III. PATENT MEDICINES.
PATENT MEDICINES.--HOW STARTED.--HOW MADE.--THE WAY IMMENSE
FORTUNES ARE REALIZED.--SPALDING'S GLUE.--SOURED SWILL.--
SARSAPARILLA HUMBUGS.--S. P. TOWNSEND.--"A DOWN EAST FARMER'S
STORY."--"WILD CHERRY" EXPOSITIONS.--"CAPTAIN WRAGGE'S PILL"
A FAIR SAMPLE OF THE WHOLE.--HOW PILL SALES ARE STARTED.--A
SLIP OF THE PEN.--"GRIPE PILLS."--SHAKSPEARE IMPROVED.--H. W.
B. "FRUIT SYRUP."--HAIR TONICS.--A BALD BACHELOR'S
EXPERIENCE.--A LUDICROUS STORY.--A WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING. 78
IV. MANUFACTURED DOCTORS.
A BOSTON BARBER AS M. D.--A BARBER "GONE TO POT."--FOOLS MADE
DOCTORS.--BAKERS.--BARBERS.--"A LUCKY DOG."--TINKERS.--ROYAL
FAVORS.--"LITTLE CARVER DAVY."--A BUTCHER'S BLOCKHEAD.--A
SWEEPING VISIT.--HOP-PED FROM OBSCURITY.--PEDAGOGUES TURN
DOCTORS.--ARBUTHNOT.--"A QUAKER."--"WALKS OFF ON HIS EAR."--
WEAVERS AND BASKET-MAKERS.--A TOUGH PRINCE; REQUIRED THREE M.
D.'S TO KILL HIM.--MARAT A HORSE DOCTOR.--A MERRY PARSON.--
BLACK MAIL.--POLICE AS A MIDWIFE, ETC., ETC. 99
V. WOMAN AS PHYSICIAN.
HER "MISSION."--NO PLACE IN MEDICAL HISTORY.--ONE OF THEM.--
MRS. STEPHENS.--"CRAZY SALLY."--RIGHT TO BEAR ARMS.--RUNS IN
THE FAMILY.--ANECDOTES.--"WHICH GOT THRASHED?"--A WRETCHED
END.--AMERICAN FEMALE PHYSICIANS.--A PIONEER.--A LAUGHABLE
ANECDOTE.--"THREE WISE MEN."--"A SHORT HORSE," ETC.--BOSTON
AND NEW YORK FEMALE DOCTORS.--A STORY.--"LOVE AND
THOROUGHWORT."--A GAY BEAU.--UP THE PENOBSCOT.--DYING FOR
LOVE.--"IS HE MAD?"--THOROUGHWORT WINS. 123
VI. QUACKS.
ANECDOTE IN ILLUSTRATION.--DERIVATION.--FATHER OF QUACKS.--A
MEDICAL "BONFIRE."--THE "SAMSON" OF THE PROFESSION.--SIR
ASTLEY.--U. S. SURVEYOR-GENERAL HAMMOND.--HOMEOPATHIC QUACKS,
ETC.--A MUDDLED DEFINITION.--"STOP THIEF!"--CRIPPLED FOR
LIFE!--TWO POUNDS CALOMEL.--VICTIMS.--WASHINGTON, JACKSON,
HARRISON.--THE COUNTRY QUACK.--A TRUE AND LUDICROUS
ANECDOTE.--DYEING TO DIE!--A SCARED DOCTOR.--DROPSY!--A HASTY
WEDDING!--A COUNTRY CONSULTATION.--"SCENES FROM WESTERN
PRACTICE."--"TWIST ROOT."--A JOLLY TRIO.--NEW "BUST" OF
CUPID.--AN UNWILLING LISTENER. 157
VII. CHARLATANS AND IMPOSTORS.
DEFINITION.--ADVERTISING CHARLATANS.--CITY IMPOSTORS.--FALSE
NAMES.--"ADVICE FREE."--INTIMIDATIONS.--WHOLESALE ROBBERY.--
VISITING THEIR DENS IN DISGUISE.--PASSING THE CERBERUS.--
WINDINGS.--INS AND OUTS.--THE IRISH PORTER.--QUEER "TWINS,"
AND A "TRIPLET" DOCTOR.--A HISTORY OF A KNAVE.--BOOT-BLACK
AND BOTTLE-WASHER.--PERQUISITES.--PURCHASED DIPLOMAS.--
"INSTITUTES."--WHOLESALE SLAUGHTER OF INFANTS.--FEMALE
HARPIES.--A BOSTON HARPY.--WHERE OUR "LOST CHILDREN" GO.--
END OF A WRETCH. 180
VIII. ANECDOTES OF PHYSICIANS.
A WANT SUPPLIED.--ORIGINAL ANECDOTES OF ABERNETHY.--A LIVE
IRISHMAN.--MADAM ROTHSCHILD.--LARGE FEET.--A SHANGHAI
ROOSTER.--SPREADING HERSELF.--KEROSENE.--"SALERATUS."--HIS
LAST JOKE.--AN ASTONISHED DARKY.--OLD DR. K.'S MARE.--A
SCARED CUSTOMER.--"WHAT'S TRUMPS?"--"LET GO THEM HALYARDS."--
MEDICAL TITBITS.--MORE MUSTARD THAN MEAT.--"I WANT TO BE AN
ANGEL."--TOOTH-DRAWING.--DR. BEECHER VS. DR. HOLMES.--
STEALING TIME.--CHOLERA FENCED IN.--"A JOKE THAT'S NOT A
JOKE."--A DRY SHOWER-BATH.--PARBOILING AN OLD LADY. 200
IX. FORTUNE-TELLERS.
PAST AND PRESENT.--BIBLE ASTROLOGERS AND FORTUNE-TELLERS.--
ARABIAN.--EASTERN.--ENGLISH.--QUEEN'S FAVORITE.--LILLY.--A
LUCKY GUESS.--THE GREAT LONDON FIRE FORETOLD.--HOW.--OUR
"TIDAL WAVE" AND AGASSIZ.--A HALL OF FORTUNE-TELLERS.--
PRESENT.--VISIT EN MASSE.--"FILLIKY MILLIKY."--"CHARGE
BAYONETS!"--A FOWL PROCEEDING.--FINDING LOST PROPERTY.--THE
MAGIC MIRROR EXPOSÉ.--"ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE."--PROCURESSES.--
BOSTON MUSEUM.--"A NICE OLD GENTLEMAN."--MONEY DOES IT.--
GREAT SUMS OF MONEY.--"LOVE POWDER" EXPOSÉ.--HASHEESH.--"DOES
HE LOVE ME?" 227
X. EMINENT PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS.
THEIR ORIGIN, BOYHOOD, EARLY STRUGGLES, ETC.--DOCTORS ARE
PUBLIC PROPERTY.--DR. MOTT, OF OYSTER BAY.--DR. PARKER.--A
"PLOUGH-BOY."--THE FARMER'S BOY AND THE OLD DOCTOR.--SCENE IN
BELLEVUE HOSPITAL.--"LEAVES FROM THE LIFE OF AN UNFLEDGED
ÆSCULAPIAN."--FIRST PATIENT.--"NONPLUSSED!"--ALL RIGHT AT
LAST.--PROFESSORS EBERLE AND DEWEES.--A HARD START.--"FOOTING
IT."--ABERNETHY'S BOYHOOD.--"OLD SQUEERS."--SPARE THE BOY AND
SPOIL THE ROD.--A DIGRESSION.--SKIRTING A BOG.--AN AGREEABLE
TURN.--PROFESSOR HOLMES.--A HOMELESS STUDENT. 253
XI. GHOSTS AND WITCHES.
FOLLY OF BELIEF IN GHOSTS.--WHY GHOSTS ARE ALWAYS WHITE.--A
TRUE STORY.--THE GHOST OF THE CAMP.--A GHOSTLY SENTRY-BOX.--A
MYSTERY.--THE NAGLES FAMILY.--RAISING THE DEAD.--A LIVELY
STAMPEDE.--HOLY WATER.--CÆSAR'S GHOST AT PHILIPPI.--LORD
BYRON AND DR. JOHNSON.--GHOST OF A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.--
"JOCKEYING A GHOST."--THE WOUNDED BIRD.--A BISHOP SEES A
GHOST.--MUSICAL GHOSTS.--A HAUNTED HOUSE.--ABOUT WITCHES.--
"WITCHES IN THE CREAM."--HORSE-SHOES.--WOMAN OF ENDOR NOT A
WITCH.--WEIGHING FLESH AGAINST THE BIBLE.--THERE ARE NO
GHOSTS, OR WITCHES. 278
XII. MEDICAL SUPERSTITIONS.
OLD AND NEW.--THE SIGN OF JUPITER.--MODERN IDOLATRY.--ORIGIN
OF THE DAYS OF THE WEEK.--HOW WE PERPETUATE IDOLATRY.--
SINGULAR FACT.--CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES.--"OLD NICK."--
RIDICULOUS SUPERSTITIONS.--GOLDEN HERB.--HOUSE CRICKETS.--A
STOOL WALKS.--THE BOWING IMAGES AT RHODE ISLAND.--HOUSE
SPIDERS.--THE HOUSE CAT.--SUPERSTITIOUS IDOLATRIES.--
WONDERFUL KNOWLEDGE.--NAUGHTY BOYS.--ERRORS RESPECTING
CATS.--SANITARY QUALITIES.--OWLS.--A SCARED BOY.--HOLY
WATER.--UNLUCKY DAYS.--THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.--A KISS. 307
XIII. TRAVELLING DOCTORS.
PUBLIC CONFIDENCE(?).--THE EYE OF THE PUBLIC.--A BAD
SPECIMEN.--"REMARKABLE TUMOR."--"THE SINGING DOCTOR."--CAUGHT
IN A STORM.--BIG PUFFING.--A SPLENDID "TURNOUT."--WHO WAS
HE?--A SUDDEN DISAPPEARANCE.--THE "SPANKING DOCTOR."--A FAIR
VICTIM.--LOOSE LAWS.--DR. PULSEFEEL.--IMPUDENCE.--A FIDDLING
DOCTOR.--AN ENCORE.--"CHEEK."--VARIOUS WAYS OF ADVERTISING. 341
XIV. SCENES FROM EVERY-DAY PRACTICE.
THE BEGGAR BOY AND THE GOLDEN-HAIRED HEIRESS.--MY MIDNIGHT
CALL.--THE CONSCIENCE-STRICKEN MOTHER.--"OLD SEROSITY."--THE
ILLEGITIMATE CHILD.--DEATH OF THE BEAUTIFUL.--WHO IS THE
HEIR?--A TOUCHING SCENE.--FATE OF THE "BEGGAR BOY."--THE
TERRIBLE CALLER.--AN IRISH SCENE, FROM DR. DIXON'S BOOK.--
BIDDY ON A RAMPAGE.--TERRY ON HIS DEATH BED.--THE STOMACH
PUMP.--BIDDY WON'T, AND SHE WILL.--THE BETRAYED AND HER
BETRAYER.--"IS THERE A GOD IN ISRAEL?"--THE HUSBANDLESS
MOTHER.--THE CRISIS AND COURT.--ANSWER.--THERE IS A "GOD IN
ISRAEL." 362
XV. DOCTORS' FEES AND INCOMES.
ANCIENT FEES.--LARGE FEES.--SPANISH PRIEST-DOCTORS.--A PIG ON
PENANCE.--SMALL FEES.--A "CHOP" POSTPONED.--LONG FEES.--SHORT
FEES.--OLD FEES.--A NIGHT-CAP.--AN OLD SHOE FOR LUCK.--A
BLACK FEE.--"HEART'S OFFERING."--A STUFFED CAT.--THE "GREAT
GUNS" OF NEW YORK.--BOSTON.--ROTTEN EGGS.--"CATCH WHAT YOU
CAN."--FEMALE DOCTORS' FEES.--ABOVE PRICE.--"ASK FOR A
FEE."--"PITCH HIM OVERBOARD."--DELICATE FEES.--MAKING THE
MOST OF THEM. 386
XVI. GENEROSITY AND MEANNESS.
THE WORLD UNMASKED.--A ROUGH DIAMOND.--DECAYED GENTILITY.--
"THREE FLIGHT, BACK."--SEVERAL ANECDOTES.--THE OLD
FOX-HUNTER.--"STAND ON YOUR HEAD."--KINDNESS TO CLERGYMEN.--
RARE CHARITY.--OLD AND HOMELESS.--THE "O'CLO'" JEW.--DR.
HUNTER'S GENEROSITY.--"WHAT'S THE PRICE OF BEEF?"--A SAD
OMISSION.--INNATE GENEROSITY.--A CURB-STONE MONEY-MANIAC.--AN
EYE-OPENER.--AN AVARICIOUS DOCTOR.--ROBBING THE DEAD. 410
XVII. LOVE AND LOVERS.
XANTIPPE, BEFORE JEALOUSY.--A FIRST LOVE.--BLASTED HOPES.--A
DOCTOR'S STORY.--THE FLIGHT FROM "THE HOUNDS OF THE LAW."--
THE EXILE AND RETURN.--DISGUISED AS A PEDDLER.--ESCAPES WITH
HIS LOVE.--ENGLISH BEAUS.--YOUNG COQUETTES.--A GAY AND
DANGEROUS BEAU.--HANDSOME BEAUS.--LEAP YEAR.--AN OLD BEAU.--
BEAUTY NOT ALL-POTENT.--OFFENDED ROYALTY.--YOUTH AND AGE.--A
STABLE BOY.--POET-DOCTOR. 438
XVIII. MIND AND MATTER.
IN WHICH ANIMAL MAGNETISM, MESMERISM, AND CLAIRVOYANCE ARE
EXPLAINED.--"THE IGNORANT MONOPOLY."--YET ROOM FOR
DISCOVERIES.--A "GASSY" SUBJECT.--DRS. CHAPIN AND BEECHER.--
HE "CAN'T SEE IT."--THE ROYAL TOUCH.--GASSNER.--"THE DEVIL
KNOWS LATIN."--ROYALTY IN THE SHADE.--THE IRISH PROPHET; HE
VISITS LONDON.--A COMICAL CROWD.--MESMERISM.--A FUNNY
BED-FELLOW.--CLAIRVOYANCE.--THE GATES OF MOSCOW.--THE DOCTOR
OF ANTWERP.--THE OLD LADY IN THE POKE-BONNET.--VISIT TO A
CLAIRVOYANT.--"FORETELLING" THE PAST.--THE OLD WOMAN OF THE
PENOBSCOT MOUNTAINS.--A SECRET KEPT.--CUI BONO?--VISITS TO
SEVENTEEN CLAIRVOYANTS.--A BON-TON CLAIRVOYANT.--A BOUNCER.--
RIDICULOSITY. 461
XIX. ECCENTRICITIES.
A ONE-EYED DOCTOR AND HIS HORSE.--A NEW EDIBLE.--"HAVE THEM
BOILED."--"BEAUTY AND THE BEAST."--A LOVELY STAMPEDE.--AN
ECCENTRIC PHILADELPHIAN.--THE POODLES, DRS. HUNTER AND
SCIPIO.--SILENT ELOQUENCE.--CONSISTENT TO THE END.--WHEN
DOCTORS DISAGREE.--FOUR BLIND MEN.--DIET AND SLEEP.--SAXE AND
SANCHO PANZA.--MOTHER GOOSE AS A DOCTOR'S BOOK.--THE TABLES
TURNED ON THE DOCTORS. 495
XX. PRESCRIPTIONS REMARKABLE AND RIDICULOUS.
FIG PASTE AND FIG LEAVES.--SOME OF THOSE OLD FELLOWS.--THEY
SLIGHTLY DISAGREE.--HOW TO KEEP CLEAN.--BAXTER VS. THE
DOCTOR.--A CURE FOR "RHEUMATIZ."--OLD ENGLISH DOSES.--CURE
FOR BLUES.--FOR HYSTERIA.--HEROIC DOSES.--DROWNING A FEVER.--
AN EXACT SCIENCE.--SULPHUR AND MOLASSES.--A USE FOR POOR
IRISH.--MINERAL SPRINGS.--COLD DRINKS VS. WARM.--THE OLD LADY
AND THE AIR-PUMP.--SAVED BY HER BUSTLE.--COUNTRY
PRESCRIPTIONS AND A FUNNY MISTAKE.--ARE YOU DRUNK OR SOBER? 517
XXI. SCENES FROM HOSPITAL AND CAMP.
"HE FOUGHT MIT SIEGEL."--A HOSPITAL SCENE AT NIGHT.--
ADMINISTERING ANGELS.--"WATER! WATER!"--THE SOLDIER-BOY'S
DYING MESSAGE.--THE WELL-WORN BIBLE.--WARM HEARTS IN FROZEN
BODIES.--"PUDDING AND MILK."--THE POETICAL AND AMUSING
SIDE.--"TO AMELIA."--MY LOVE AND I.--A SCRIPTURAL
CONUNDRUM.--MARRYING A REGIMENT. 538
XXII. GLUTTONS AND WINE-BIBBERS.
GOOD CHEER AND A CHEERFUL HEART.--A MODERN SILENUS.--A SAD
WRECK.--DELIRIUM TREMENS.--FATAL ERRORS.--"EATING LIKE A
GLUTTON."--STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS.--A HOT PLACE, EVEN FOR A
COOK.--A HUNGRY DOCTOR.--THE MODERN GILPIN.--A CHANGE! A SOW
FOR A HORSE!--A DUCK POND.--THE FORLORN WIDOW.--A SCIENTIFIC
GORMAND.--ANOTHER.--"DOORN'T GO TO 'IM," ETC.--DR. BUTLER'S
BEER AND BATH.--CASTS HIS LAST VOTE. 550
XXIII. THE DOCTOR AS POET, AUTHOR, AND MUSICIAN.
OUR PATRON, OUR PATTERN.--SOME WRITERS.--SOME BLUNDERS.--AN
OLD SMOKER.--OLD GREEKS.--A DUKE ANSWERED BY A COUNTRY
MISS.--THE PILGRIMS AND THE PEAS.--"LITTLE DAISY."--"CASA
WAPPA!"--FINE POETRY.--MORE SCHOOLMASTERS AND TAILORS.--
NAPOLEON'S AND WASHINGTON'S PHYSICIANS.--A FRENCH
"BUTCHER."--A DIF. OF OPINION.--SOME EPITAPHS.--DR. HOLMES'
"ONE-HOSS SHAY."--HEALTHFUL INFLUENCE OF MUSIC.--SAVED BY
MUSIC.--A GERMAN TOUCH-UP.--MUSIC ON ANIMALS.--"MUSIC AMONG
THE MICE."--MUSIC AND HEALTH. 571
XXIV. ADULTERATIONS.
BREAD, BUTTER, AND THE BIBLE.--"JACK ASHORE."--BUCKWHEAT
CAKES ARE GOOD.--WHAT'S IN THE BREAD, AND HOW TO DETECT IT.--
BUTTER.--HOW TO TELL GOOD AND BAD.--MILK.--ANALYSIS OF GOOD
AND "SWILL MILK."--WHAT'S IN THE MILK BESIDES MICE?--THE COW
WITH ONE TEAT.--"LOUD" CHEESE.--TEA AND COFFEE.--TANNIN,
SAWDUST, AND HORSES' LIVERS.--ALCOHOLIC DRINKS.--CHURCH WINE
AND BREAD.--BEER AND BITTER HERBS.--SPANISH FLIES AND
STRYCHNINE.--"NINE MEN STANDIN' AT THE DOOR."--BURTON'S ALE;
AN ASTONISHING FACT.--FISHY.--"FISH ON A SPREE."--TO REMEDY
IMPURE WATER.--CHARCOAL AND THE BISHOP.--HOG-ISH.--PORK AND
SCROFULA.--NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 599
XXV. ALL ABOUT TOBACCO.
"HOW MUCH?"--AMOUNT IN THE WORLD.--"SIAMESE TWINS."--A MIGHTY
ARMY.--ITS NAME AND NATIVITY.--A DONKEY RIDE.--LITTLE
BREECHES.--WHIPPING SCHOOL GIRLS AND BOYS TO MAKE THEM
SMOKE.--TOM'S LETTER.--"PURE SOCIETY."--HOW A YOUNG MAN WAS
"TOOK IN."--DELICIOUS MORSELS.--THE STREET NUISANCE.--A
SQUIRTER.--ANOTHER.--IT BEGETS LAZINESS.--NATIONAL RUIN.--
BLACK EYES.--DISEASE AND INSANITY.--USES OF THE WEED.--GETS
RID OF SUPERFLUOUS POPULATION.--TOBACCO WORSE THAN RUM.--THE
OLD FARMER'S DOG AND THE WOODCHUCK.--"WHAT KILLED HIM." 633
XXVI. DRESS AND ADDRESS OF PHYSICIANS.
GOSSIP IS INTERESTING.--COMPARATIVE SIGNS OF GREATNESS.--THE
GREAT SURGEONS OF THE WORLD.--ADDRESS NECESSARY.--"THIS IS A
BONE."--DRESS NOT NECESSARY.--COUNTRY DOCTORS' DRESS.--HOW
THE DEACON SWEARS.--A GOOD MANY SHIRTS.--ONLY WASHED WHEN
FOUND DRUNK.--LITTLE TOMMY MISTAKEN FOR A GREEN CABBAGE BY
THE COW.--AN INSULTED LADY.--DOCTORS' WIGS.--"AIN'T SHE
LOVELY?"--HARVEY AND HIS HABITS.--THE DOCTOR AND THE
VALET.--A BIG WIG.--BEN FRANKLIN.--JENNER'S DRESS.--AN
ANIMATED WIG; A LAUGHABLE STORY.--A CHARACTER.--"DOSH, DOSH." 659
XXVII. MEDICAL FACTS AND STATISTICS.
HOW MANY.--WHO THEY ARE.--HOW THEY DIE.--HOW MUCH RUM THEY
CONSUME.--HOW THEY LIVE.--OLD AGE.--WHY WE DIE.--GET
MARRIED.--OLD PEOPLE'S WEDDING.--A GOOD ONE.--THE ORIGIN OF
THE HONEYMOON.--A SWEET OBLIVION.--HOLD YOUR TONGUE!--MANY
MEN, MANY MINDS.--"ALLOPATHY."--LOTS OF DOCTORS.--THE ITCH
MITE.--A HORSE-CAR RIDE.--KEEP COOL!--KNICKKNACKS.--HUMBLE
PIE.--INCREASE OF INSANITY.--A COOL STUDENT.--HOW TO GET RID
OF A MOTHER-IN-LAW. 680
XXVIII. BLEEDERS AND BUTCHERS.
BLEEDING IN 1872.--EARLIEST BLOOD-LETTERS.--A ROYAL
SURGEON.--A DRAWING JOKE.--THE PRETTY COQUETTE.--TINKERS AS
BLEEDERS.--WHOLESALE BUTCHERY.--THE BARBERS OF SOUTH
AMERICA.--OUR FOREFATHERS BLEED.--A FRENCH BUTCHER.--CUR?--
ABERNETHY OPPOSES BLOOD-LETTING.--THE MISFORTUNES OF A
BARBER-SURGEON (THREE SCENES FROM DOUGLASS JERROLD); JOB
PIPPINS AND THE WAGONER; JOB AND THE HIGHWAYMEN; JOB NAKED
AND JOB DRESSED. 695
XXIX. THE OMNIUM GATHERUM.
EX-SELL-SIR!--"THE OBJECT TO BE ATTAINED."--A NOTORIOUS
FEMALE DOCTOR.--A WHITE BLACK MAN.--SQUASHY.--MOTHER'S
FOOL.--WHO IT WAS.--THE PHILOSOPHER AND HIS DAUGHTER.--
EDUCATION AND GIBBERISH.--SCOTTISH HOSPITALITY.--THE OLD LADY
WITH AN ANIMAL IN HER STOMACH.--STORIES ABOUT LITTLE FOLKS.--
THE BOY WITH A BULLET IN HIM.--CASE OF SMALL-POX.--NOT MUCH
TO LOOK AT.--FUNERAL ANTHEMS. 709
XXX. THE OTHER SIDE.
PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE.--STEALING FROM THE PROFESSION.--
ANECDOTE OF RUFUS CHOATE.--INGRATES.--A NIGHT ROW.--"SAVING
AT THE SPIGOT AND WASTING AT THE BUNG."--SHOPPING PATIENTS.--
AN AFFECTIONATE WIFE.--RUM AND TOBACCO PATIENTS.--THE
PHYSICIAN'S WIDOW AND ORPHAN, THE SUMMONS, THE TENEMENT, THE
INVALIDS, HOW THEY LIVED, HER HISTORY, THE UNNATURAL FATHER,
HOW THEY DIED, THE END.--A PETER-FUNK DOCTOR.--SELLING OUT. 727
XXXI. "THIS IS FOR YOUR HEALTH."
THE INESTIMABLE VALUE OF HEALTH.--NO BLESSING IN
COMPARISON.--MEN AND SWINE.--BEGIN WITH THE INFANT.--"BABY ON
THE PORCH."--IN A STRAIT JACKET.--"TWO LITTLE SHOES."--
YOUTH.--IMPURE LITERATURE AND PASSIONS.--"OUR GIRLS."--BARE
ARMS AND BUSTS.--HOW AND WHAT WE BREATHE.--"THE FREEDOM OF
THE STREET."--KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN AND MOUTH CLOSED.--THE
LUNGS AND BREATHING.--A MAN FULL OF HOLES.--SEVEN MILLION
MOUTHS TO FEED.--PURE WATER.--CLEANLINESS. SOAP VS.
WRINKLES.--GOD'S SUNSHINE. 748
XXXII. HEALTH WITHOUT MEDICINE.
CHEERFULNESS.--GOOD ADVICE.--REV. FRANCIS J. COLLIER ON
CHRISTIAN CHEERFULNESS.--WHAT GOD SAYS ABOUT IT.--WHINING.--
LOVE AND HEALTH.--AFFECTION AND PERFECTION.--SEPARATING THE
SHEEP AND GOATS.--THE FENCES UP AND FENCES DOWN.--SIXTEEN AND
SIXTY.--ACTION AND IDLENESS.--IDLENESS AND CRIME.--BEAUTY AND
DEVELOPMENT.--SLEEP.--DAY AND NIGHT.--"WHAT SHALL WE EAT?"--A
STOMACH-MILL AND A STEWING-PAN.--"FIVE MINUTES FOR
REFRESHMENTS."--ANCIENT DIET.--COOKS IN A "STEW."--THE
GREEN-GROCERIES OF THE CLASSICS.--CABBAGES AND ARTICHOKES.--
ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE DIET. 769
XXXIII. CONSUMPTION.
CONSUMPTION A MONSTER!--UNIVERSAL REIGN.--SIGNS OF HIS
APPROACH.--WARNINGS.--BAD POSITIONS.--SCHOOL-HOUSES.--ENGLISH
THEORY.--PREVENTIVES.--AIR AND SUNSHINE.--SCROFULA.--A JOLLY
FAT GRANDMOTHER.--"WASP WAISTS."--CHANGE OF CLIMATE.--"TOO
LATE!"--WHAT TO AVOID.--HUMBUGS.--COD LIVER OIL.--STRYCHNINE
WHISKEY.--A MATTER-OF-FACT PATIENT.--SWALLOWING A
PRESCRIPTION.--SIT AND LIE STRAIGHT.--FEATHERS OR CURLED
HAIR.--A YANKEE DISEASE.--CATARRH AND COLD FEET, HOW TO
REMEDY.--"GIVE US SOME SNUFF, DOCTOR."--OTHER THINGS TO
AVOID.--A TENDER POINT. 790
XXXIV. ACCIDENTS.
RULES FOR MACHINISTS, MECHANICS, RAILROAD MEN, ETC., IN CASES
OF ACCIDENT.--HOW TO FIND AN ARTERY AND STOP THE BLEEDING.--
DROWNING; TO RESTORE.--SUN-STROKE.--AVOID ICE.--"ACCIDENTS
WILL HAPPEN."--WHAT TO HAVE IN THE HOUSE.--BRUISES.--BURNS.--
DO THE BEST YOU CAN AND TRUST GOD FOR THE REST. 811
ILLUSTRATIONS.
1. A. D. CRABTRE, M. D., Frontispiece.
2. DR. ANGLICUS PONTO, 31
3. MISFORTUNES NEVER COME SINGLY, 33
4. THE MISER OUTWITS HIMSELF, 38
5. COMMENCING A PRACTICE IN NEW YORK, 47
6. GRACE BEFORE MEAT, 48
7. OLD PILGARLIC TAKES A BATH, 55
8. PROFESSOR BREWSTER, 55
9. AN INFANTRY CHARGE, 60
10. THE "FREE PASS" PRESCRIPTION, 69
11. THE WRONG PATIENT, 71
12. A CANDIDATE FOR THE PRESIDENCY, 77
13. UNDER FULL SAIL, 77
14. "IT'S ALL A HUMBUG," 82
15. "BAREFOOTED ON THE TOP OF HIS HEAD," 93
16. OLD "SANDS OF LIFE," 96
17. REFRESHMENTS, 98
18. THE EYE DOCTOR, 103
19. THE YOUNG SURGEON'S FIRST EXPERIENCE, 105
20. HEALING THE SICK WITH A GOLDEN DOSE, 111
21. THE PARSON BUYING OFF THE "CONGREGATION," 120
22. A JUVENILE BACCHUS, 122
23. "DON'T YOU OBSERVE THE ARMS OF MRS. MAPP?" 128
24. THREE WISE STUDENTS CONSULTING A DOCTRESS, 134
25. "POH! YOU'RE A GIRL," 141
26. "HERE WE GO UP-UP-UPPY," 148
27. "LOVE AMONG THE ROSES," 156
28. THE INQUISITIVE COUNTRYMEN, 161
29. CURIOUS EFFECTS OF A FEVER, 171
30. MARRYING A FAMILY, 173
31. 'OPATHISTS IN CONSULTATION, 175
32. A "HYPO" PATIENT DISCHARGING HIS PHYSICIAN, 178
33. TOO MUCH HAT, 179
34. CONVINCING EVIDENCE OF INSOLVENCY, 181
35. "AN' WHO'LL YEZE LIKE TO SEE, SURE?" 183
36. A BOSTON QUACK EXAMINING A STUDENT, 189
37. ORNAMENTAL TAIL-PIECE, 199
38. DR. ABERNETHY IN THE HOSPITAL, 202
39. AN EXTENSIVE SET, 205
40. "O, DOCTHER, DEAR, I'VE PIZENED ME BOY," 207
41. "LOST MARSER! LOST MARSER!" 209
42. NOT A STOMACH PUMP, 213
43. "LOWER TIER, LARBOARD SIDE," 217
44. THE FARMER'S ESCAPE FROM THE CHOLERA, 223
45. TOO MUCH VAPOR, 224
46. A DRY SHOWER BATH, 225
47. GRAPES AND WINE, 226
48. CHARGE, INFANTRY! 239
49. AFTER THE BATTLE, 240
50. THE FORTUNE-TELLER'S MAGIC MIRROR, 244
51. CHILDREN CONSULTING A FORTUNE-TELLER, 251
52. THE HUNTRESS, 252
53. THE ONONDAGA FARMER BOY, 256
54. THE POLITE QUADRUPED, 265
55. YOUNG ABERNETHY, 266
56. "PINNY, SIR? JUST ONE PINNY," 274
57. THE PENNILESS PHYSICIAN, 276
58. THE INDIAN WARRIOR, 277
59. BELIEVERS IN GHOSTS, 278
60. "HARK! THERE'S A FEARFUL GUST!" 280
61. A GRAVE SENTRY, 282
62. A GHOST IN CAMP, 285
63. OLD NAGLES, 286
64. THE NAGLES BOYS, 287
65. CHIEF MOURNERS, 288
66. THE CORPSE THAT WOULD NOT SMOKE, 290
67. PREPARE TO DIE, 293
68. THE BISHOP'S GHOSTLY VISITOR, 295
69. THE MUSICAL PUSS, 301
70. A DARKEY BEWITCHED, 301
71. BOYLSTON STATION, 303
72. WEIGHING A WITCH BY BIBLE STANDARD, 305
73. PASSING THE FORT, 306
74. THE GOD OF RECIPES, 308
75. SUN-SUNDAY, 310
76. MOON-MONDAY, 313
77. TUISCO-TUESDAY, 313
78. WODEN-WEDNESDAY, 314
79. THOR-THURSDAY, 315
80. FRIGA-FRIDAY, 315
81. SEATER-SATURDAY, 316
82. GATHERING THE MANDRAKE, 321
83. "WAITING TO SEE THE IMAGES BOW," 323
84. SPORT FOR THE BOYS BUT DEATH TO THE CAT, 329
85. "WHO-A'-YOO?" 333
86. THE PROPER USE OF "HOLY WATER," 334
87. THE MODEST KISS, 339
88. HOLDING THE PLOW, 340
89. THE TUMOR DOCTOR CONTEMPLATES SUICIDE, 343
90. MARIAM, THE TUMOR DOCTOR, 345
91. THE SINGING DOCTOR, 349
92. THE SANATORIAN'S TURNOUT, 351
93. A NEW SCHOOL OF PRACTICE, 354
94. A VICTIM OF THE SPANKER, 355
95. DR. PULSFEEL LEAVING TOWN, 356
96. THE MUSICAL DOCTOR, 358
97. ENTHUSIASM, 359
98. ALL WOOL, 361
99. CHARITY THROWN AWAY, 363
100. THE BEGGAR BOY, 366
101. REMORSE, 368
102. THE LOST HEIR, 373
103. A MORNING CALLER, 375
104. "WHY DID I TAZE YE?" 376
105. SUCCESS OF TERRY'S COURTSHIP, 379
106. THE BETRAYED, 382
107. SAILING INTO PORT, 385
108. A SAN BENITO PIG, 388
109. AN OLD ENGLISH CLERGYMAN AND HIS FAMILY, 390
110. THE KING'S PHYSICIAN AND THE EXECUTIONER, 393
111. A SLIPPER-Y FEE, 397
112. A LIVING FEE, 399
113. STUFFED PETS, 400
114. A PIONEER OF HOMOEOPATHY, 403
115. A SHARP MULE TRADE, 405
116. ORNAMENTAL TAIL-PIECE, 409
117. PHYSICIAN'S CHARITY, 411
118. SEARCH FOR A PATIENT, 412
119. AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT, 417
120. A WOMAN'S REBUKE, 417
121. AFRAID OF A POLYPUS, 418
122. ABERNETHY'S SURGICAL OPERATION, 420
123. RECKONING A DOCTOR'S FEES, 424
124. PATIENT NUMBER FIVE, 425
125. THE ASTONISHED BUTCHER, 427
126. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS IN DENTISTRY, 431
127. CHARITY NOT SOLICITED, 431
128. CAPTURE OF A WALL STREET BULL, 433
129. DEATH'S FEE, 436
130. THE AMERICAN SAILOR, 437
131. MY FIRST LOVE, 439
132. TEN YEARS LATER, 441
133. FLIGHT OF THE DOCTOR, 443
134. THE LOVER AS A PEDDLER, 447
135. FLIGHT OF THE LOVERS, 447
136. AN AGED PUPIL, 453
137. BIRTHPLACE OF GEORGE CRABBE, 457
138. "POPPING THE QUESTION," 460
139. LOVE'S LINKS, 460
140. THE LION MAGNETIZED, 466
141. A HARD SUBJECT, 467
142. GASSNER HEALING "BY THE GRACE OF GOD," 471
143. NO LACK OF PATIENTS, 475
144. "A BOTTLE, A HEN, OR A WOMAN," 477
145. EFFECTS OF AN EARTHQUAKE, 483
146. A BELIEVER SEES HIS GRANDMOTHER, 483
147. THE CHARMER DIVULGES HER SECRET, 488
148. "I PERCEIVE YOU ARE IN LOVE," 492
149. THE FARMER'S DAUGHTERS, 494
150. A "HORSE-SLAYER" INDULGING HIS OPINION, 499
151. NO TIME TO LOSE, 500
152. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, 503
153. DR. HUNTER IN CONSULTATION, 504
154. THE RUSSIAN GENERAL'S DRILL, 506
155. WHAT THE ELEPHANT IS LIKE, 511
156. A DOCTOR'S SOLACE, 511
157. HOW A LADY PROCURED A VALUABLE PRESCRIPTION, 525
158. DOSE--ONE QUART EVERY HOUR, 526
159. PUMPING AN OLD LADY, 537
160. A DANGEROUS PRESCRIPTION, 537
161. THE FARMER'S EMBLEMS, 537
162. THE DYING MESSAGE, 541
163. STUCK! 547
164. COMMERCE, 549
165. A GOOD LIVER, 551
166. A DOCTOR "KILLING THE DEVILS," 555
167. PAYING FOR HIS WINE, 555
168. A BAR-ROOM DOCTOR, 555
169. "THE DOCTOR ON A SOW!" 565
170. RESCUE OF THE DOCTOR, 565
171. "ONLY IRISH BEER," 568
172. CURE FOR THE AGUE, 569
173. PLAYING THE REEDS, 570
174. AN EMBRYO APOLLO, 572
175. THE PILGRIM CHEAT, 577
176. FRANKLIN'S EXPERIMENTS WITH ETHER, 585
177. END OF THE WONDERFUL ONE-HOSS SHAY, 591
178. "MUSIC, THE SOUL OF LIFE," 597
179. THE MUSICAL MICE, 597
180. FOUNTAIN, 598
181. SIGNS OF CIVILIZATION, 603
182. SWILL MILK (MAGNIFIED), 605
183. PURE MILK (MAGNIFIED), 606
184. WATERED MILK (MAGNIFIED), 606
185. "WHAT'S IN THE MILK?" 606
186. A CHAMPAGNE BATH, 611
187. MOTHER'S MILK--PURE AND HEALTHY, 612
188. MOTHER'S MILK AFTER DRINKING WHISKY, 612
189. WAITING FOR ASSISTANCE, 617
190. A CONFECTIONERY STORE, 619
191. TARTARIC ACID FOR SUPPER, 629
192. A STREET CANDY STAND, 629
193. THE NEWSBOY'S MOTHER, 630
194. THE IDOL OF TOBACCO USERS, 634
195. PUNISHMENT OF THE TURK, 638
196. SMOKERS OF FOUR GENERATIONS, 639
197. "I WANT A CHAW OF TERBACKER," 641
198. YOUNG SMOKERS, 642
199. EXAMINATION OF THE SMOKER, 643
200. PURIFYING HIS BLOOD, 644
201. CLEANSING HIS BONES, 645
202. THE SMOKER, 647
203. THE CHEWER, 648
204. SIGN OF THE TIMES, 648
205. MY LAZY SMOKING FRIEND, 650
206. "SHALL I ASSIST YOU TO ALIGHT?" 653
207. WORK FOR TONGUES AND FINGERS, 653
208. WHAT KILLED THE DOG? 657
209. THE NEWSBOY, 658
210. THE GREAT SURGEONS OF THE WORLD, 661
211. A CALL ON THE VILLAGE DOCTOR, 663
212. PHYSICIANS' COSTUME IN 1790, 664
213. HOW POOR TOMMY WAS LOST, 666
214. BRIDGET'S METHOD OF MENDING STOCKINGS, 667
215. THE UNDERTAKERS' ARMS, 671
216. DISPUTE OF THE DOCTOR AND VALET, 671
217. A WIG MOUSE, 674
218. THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED, 675
219. MEETING OF THE DOCTOR AND THE CURATE, 679
220. DOCTOR CANDEE, 679
221. A GERMAN BEER GIRL, 681
222. AN INDIGNANT BRIDE, 686
223. THE ITCH MITE, 689
224. THE BURGLAR AND STUDENT, 693
225. HARVESTED, 694
226. ASSISTANCE FROM A ROYAL SURGEON, 696
227. PETER THE GREAT AS A SURGEON, 697
228. JOB DISCHARGED BY SIR SCIPIO, 703
229. "BLEED HIM," 704
230. A BORROWED WATCH, 706
231. JOB'S DECISION, 708
232. SQUASHY'S SURGICAL OPERATION, 715
233. "WILL YE TAK' A BLAST, NOO?" 720
234. REPTILES FROM THE STOMACH, 722
235. "IT ISN'T CATCHIN'," 724
236. FUNERAL OF THE CANARY, 725
237. MY FRONT STREET PATIENT, 731
238. A SHOPPING PATIENT, 733
239. CALL AT THE TENEMENT, 737
240. THE WIDOW'S OCCUPATION, 739
241. THE PHYSICIAN AND THE FATHER, 742
242. THE PETER FUNK PHYSICIAN, 745
243. VIRTUE, 747
244. THE FREEDOM OF THE PARK, 761
245. "IT COSTS NOTHING," 766
246. A NATURAL POSITION, 792
247. AN UNNATURAL POSITION, 792
248. CORRECT POSITION, 796
249. INCORRECT POSITION, 796
250. HOW WASP WAISTS ARE MADE, 799
251. A CONSUMPTIVE WAIST, 800
252. NON-CONSUMPTIVE WAIST, 800
253. A HEALTHY POSITION, 804
254. POSITION OF ARTERY IN ARM, 811
255. COMPRESSING AN ARTERY IN ARM, 812
256. POSITION OF ARTERY IN LEG, 812
257. THE DOCTOR'S QUEUE, 816
I.
MEDICAL HUMBUGS.
_Marina._ ... Should I tell my history,
'Twould seem like lies disdained in the reporting.
_Pericles._ Pray thee, speak.--_Shakspeare._
ORIGIN AND APPLICATION OF "HUMBUG."--A FIFTH AVENUE HUMBUG.--JOB'S
OPINION OF DOCTORS.--EARLY PHYSICIANS.--PRIESTS AS DOCTORS.--WIZARDS
COME TO GRIEF.--A "CAPITAL" OPERATION.--A WOMAN CUT INTO TWELVE
PIECES.--ANECDOTE.--ROBIN HOOD'S LITTLE JOKE.--TIT FOR TAT.--ENGLISH
HUMBUGS.--FRENCH DITTO.--A FORTUNE ON DIRTY WATER.--AMERICAN
HUMBUGS.--A FIRST CLASS "DODGE."--A FREE RIDE.--A SHARP
INTERROGATOR.--DOCTOR PUSBELLY.--A WICKED STAGE-DRIVER'S STORY.--"OLD
PILGARLIC" TAKES A BATH.--LUDICROUS SCENE.--PROFESSOR BREWSTER.
Medical humbugs began to exist with the first pretenders to the science of
healing. Quacks originated at a much later period. So materially different
are the two classes, that I am compelled to treat of them separately.
The word _humbug_ is a corruption of _Hamburg_, Germany, and seems to have
originated in London. The following episode is in illustration of both its
origin and meaning:--
"O, Bridget, Bridget!" exclaimed the fashionable mistress of a brown stone
front in Fifth Avenue, New York, to her surprised servant girl, "what have
you been doing at the front door?"
"Och, murther! Nothin', ma'am."
"Nothing!" repeated the mistress.
"Yes'm--that is--" stammered Bridget, greatly embarrassed.
"What were you doing at the front door but a moment since?"
"Nothin', ma'am, but spakin' to me cousin; he's a p'leeceman, ma'am, if ye
plaze, ma'am," replied Bridget, dropping a low courtesy to the mistress.
"No, no; I did not mean that. But haven't you been cleaning the door-knob
and the bell-pull?"
"Yes'm," replied Bridget, changing from embarrassment to surprise.
"Why, Bridget, didn't I tell you never to polish the front door-knobs
during the warm season? Now my friends will think that I have returned
from Saratoga--"
"And is it to Saratogy ye've been, ma'am?" exclaimed Bridget.
"No, you dunce; but was not the front of the house closed, and the
servants forbidden to polish the plates and glass, that my friends might
be led to believe we had all gone to the watering-place?"
That was true humbug. Double humbuggery! for the servant girl was
humbugging her mistress by pretending to polish the door-knobs, while she
was really coqueting with a policeman; and the mistress was humbugging her
friends into the belief that the house was closed, and the family gone to
Saratoga.
So, Hamburg, on the Elbe, being a fashionable resort of the upper-ten-dom
of London, those who would ape aristocracy, yet being unable to bear the
expense of a trip to the Continent, closed the front of their dwellings,
moved into the rear, giving out word that they had gone to _Hamburg_.
When a house was observed so closed, with a notice on the door, the
passers by would wag their heads, and exclaim, questionably, "Ah, gone to
Hamburg!" or, "All gone to Hamburg!" "It's all Hamburg!" and so on. And,
like a thousand other words in the English language, this became
corrupted, and "humbug" followed. Hence, taking the sense from the
derivation of the word, humbug means "an imposition, under fair
pretences;" cheat; hoax; a deception without malicious intent. Webster
says it is "a low word."
The humbugs in medicine, we assert, began to exist with the first persons
of whom we have any account in the history of the healing art. Among the
early Egyptian physicians, Æsculapius was esteemed as the most celebrated.
He was the first humbug in his line. However, nearly all the accounts we
have of him are mythological. If we are to credit the early writers, this
great healer restored so many to life, that he greatly interfered with
undertaker Pluto's occupation, who picked a quarrel with Æsculapius, and
the two referred the matter to Jupiter for adjudication.
But we may go back of this "god of medicine." If he was physician to the
Argonauts, we must fix the date of his great exploits at about the year B.
C. 1263. It is claimed by good authority that the Book of Job dates back
to B. C. 1520, and is the oldest book extant. Herein we find Job saying,
"Ye are forgers of lies; ye are all physicians of no value." Since his
friends were trying their best to humbug him, Job certainly intimates that
physicians--some of them, at least--were looked upon as humbugs. But,
then, Job was only an Arab prince; not an Israelite, at all; nor does he
condescend to mention that "peculiar people" in his book. And besides,
what reliance can be based upon the opinion of a man respecting
physicians, whose only surgical instrument consisted of a "piece or
fragment of a broken pot"?
Therefore, leaving the "Arab prince," we will turn for a moment to the
early Jewish physicians. Josephus does not enlighten us much respecting
them. The Old Testament makes mention of physicians in three
instances,--the last figuratively.
The first instance--a rather amusing one--where physicians are mentioned
in the sacred writings, is in 2 Chron. xvi. 12: "And Asa, in the
thirty-ninth year of his reign, was diseased in his feet, until the
disease was exceeding great; yet in his disease he sought not to the Lord,
but to the physicians." The compiler adds, very coolly, as though a
natural consequence, "_And Asa slept with his fathers_!" This reminds us
of an anecdote by the late Dr. Waterhouse. An Irishman obtained twenty
grains of morphine, which, instead of quinine, he took at one dose, to
cure the chills. The doctor, in relating it long afterwards, added,
laconically, "He being a good Catholic, his funeral was numerously
attended."
For generations nearly all the pretensions to healing were made by the
priests and magicians, who humbugged and "bamboozled" the ignorant and
superstitious rabble to their hearts' content. Kings and subjects were
alike believers in the Magi. Saul believed in the magic powers of the
"witch of Endor." The wicked king Nebuchadnezzar classed Daniel and his
three companions with the magicians, although Daniel (chap. xi. 10) denied
the imputation. Joseph laid claim to the power of divination; for, having
caused the silver cup to be placed in the sack of corn, and after having
sent and brought his brother back, he said (Gen. xliv. 15), "What deed is
this that ye have done? Wot ye not that such a man as I can certainly
divine?" It seemed necessary to deal with the people according to their
belief. It was useless to dispute with them. As late as the preaching of
Paul and Barnabas, the whole nations of Jews and Greeks were so tinctured
with belief in magic and enchantment in healing, taught and promulgated by
the priesthood, that when the apostles healed the cripple of Lystra, the
rabble, headed by the priests, cried out, "The gods are come down to us in
the likeness of men." And they called Barnabas Jupiter, and Paul
Mercurius.
The town clerk in the theatre said to the excited crowd, "These men are
neither robbers of churches, nor yet blasphemers of your goddess."
Diana was appealed to for women in childbirth; Mercurius for the healing
of cutaneous diseases (_herpes_), probably because he carried a _herpe_,
or short sword, also, at times, the caduceus; and Jupiter for various
diseases. But to return to the times of Saul and David.
It seems that the business became overcrowded, and the vilest and most
degraded of both sexes swelled the ranks of sorcerers, astrologers, and
spiritualists, until every class and condition of people became
impregnated with these beliefs, from kings to the lowest subject. Finally,
the strong arm of the law laid hold of them, and the edict went forth that
"a witch shall not live," that "a wizard shall be put to death," and that
"the soothsayer be stoned."
Nevertheless, the wretches continued to practise their deceptions, but
less openly for a time, and they are made mention of throughout the sacred
writings, until "the closing of the canon."
But the Scriptures are almost totally silent on surgery, and the remedies
resorted to by those pretending to the science--as also by physicians and
priests--were such as to lead us to believe that their _materia medica_
was very limited. Under the head of Ridiculous Prescriptions, we shall
mention these remedies:--
The earliest record we find of surgical operations in the Old Testament is
in Judges xix. 29,--a "capital operation," we may judge, for the account
informs us that the patient, a woman, "was divided into twelve pieces."
Turning to the profane writers for information, we plunge into an abyss of
uncertainty, with this exception; that the practice of medicine--it could
not be called a science--was still in the hands of the priesthood, and
partook largely of the fabulous notions of the age, being connected almost
entirely with idolatries and humbuggeries. The cunning priests caused the
rabble, from first to last, to believe that all disease was inflicted, not
from the violation of the laws of nature, but by some angry and outraged
divinity, whose wrath must be appeased by bribes (_paid to the priests_),
by incantations, and absurd ceremonies, or else the afflicted victim must
die a painful death, and forever after suffer a more horrible eternity.
The priests' receiving the pay reminds us of the following little
anecdote.
A very pious man, recently congratulating a convalescing patient upon his
recovery, asked his friend who had been his physician.
"Dr. Blank brought me safely through," was his reply.
"No, no," said the friend, "God brought you out of this affliction, and
healed you,--not the doctor."
"Well," replied the man, "may be he did; but I am sure that the doctor
will charge me for it."
The offices of priest and physician were united among the Jews, Heathens,
Greeks, Egyptians, and Romans. The Druids (from _draoi_, magician) ruled
and ruined the ancient Celts, Gauls, Britons, and Germans. The people of
these nations looked up to the priests as though life and death and
immortality hung only upon their lips. Among our aborigines we have also
examples of the double office of priest and "medicine man." And it is an
astonishing fact, that notwithstanding the ignorance of the pretenders to
healing, or the ridiculousness of the prescriptions, or the exorbitant
fees, the rabble of the age relied upon them with the most implicit
confidence. If the patient recovered, the priests--embodying the gods--had
restored them by their great skill and the favor of some particular
divinity, and so were worshipped, and again rewarded with other fees to
offer sacrifices to the individual god who was supposed to favor the
priest or wizard. If he died it was the will of the gods that it should so
be, and the friends lost none of their faith in the abilities of their
medical and spiritual advisers.
The priests could not be disposed of so easily as the witches and wizards
were supposed to have been, for they kept the people under greater fear,
and held the balance of power in their own hands. The only difference
between the priests and wizards was, that the former _claimed_ to exercise
their arts by the power of the gods, while the latter were said to be
assisted by the evil spirits. The priests claimed this in the times of
Christ, and tried to persuade the rabble that he was assisted by
Beelzebub. While the grasping priesthood professed poverty and
self-denial, they were continually enriching themselves by robberies and
extortions upon the ignorant and superstitious common people.
A mirth-provoking anecdote is told of Robin Hood and two friars, which we
cannot forbear relating here as illustrative of the above assertion. If
our readers regard stories from such a source as very uncertain, we have
only to reply that we are now dealing with "uncertainties."
"One day, Robin disguised himself as a friar, and went out on the highway.
Very soon he met two priests, to whom he appealed for charity in the
blessed Virgin's name.
"'That we would do, were it in our power,' they replied.
"'I fear you are so addicted to falsehood, I cannot believe that you have
no money, as you say. However, let us all down on our marrow bones, and
pray the Virgin to send us some money.'
"'No, no,' replied the priests; 'it is of no use.'
"'What! have you no faith in your patron saint? Down, I say, and pray.'
"In fear, down fell the two priests, and Robin by their side, and all
prayed most lustily.
"'Now feel in your pockets,' said Robin, rising.
"'There is nothing,' they replied, plunging their hands deep into their
cloaks.
"'Down again, and pray harder,' shouted Robin, drawing his sword.
"Down they fell, and mumbled over their Latin, but declared the gods had
sent them nothing.
"'I do not believe you,' said Robin; 'you ever were a pack of liars. Let
each stand a search, that we deceive not each other.' So Robin turned his
own empty pockets wrong side out, then compelled the friars to follow
suit, when lo! out fell five hundred pieces of gold.
"When Robin saw this glorious sight, he berated the priests soundly, and
taking the gold, went away to Sherwood, and made merry at the expense of
the church."
About 1185 B. C. we find among the Grecians some traces of what was termed
the healing art. But fact and fable, history and mythology, are so mixed
and blended, that it is impossible to gain any reliable information so far
back.
Chiron is made mention of as having acquired much celebrity as a
physician. It is claimed that he was learned in the arts and sciences,
that he taught astronomy to Hercules, music to Apollo, and medicine to
Æsculapius, who came from Egypt. From what can be gleaned, of reliability,
it seems that he employed simple medicines, and possessed some knowledge
of dressing wounds and reducing fractures and dislocations; but no doubt
he pretended to greater things than the times would warrant, for, when
shot by an arrow from the bow of Hercules, his former pupil, he was unable
to heal the wound, and begged Jupiter to "set him up" among the stars,
which request was complied with, and Chiron was translated to the heavens,
where he still shines in the constellation Sagittarius, represented as a
centaur, with drawn bow, driving before him the other eleven signs of the
zodiac.
We have alluded to Æsculapius, and, passing over all others of his class,
we come to the times of Hippocrates.
Hippocrates is rightly called the "Father of Medicine," for he was the
first to raise medicine to a science. We mention him without classing him
with humbugs; but Menecrates, who flourished about the same time, arrived
at great notoriety by ruse and deception. He was "famous for vanity and
arrogance." He went about accompanied by some patients, whom he claimed to
have cured, as proofs of his great ability. One he disguised as Apollo,
another he arrayed in the habit of Æsculapius, and sent them abroad to
sound his praise, while he took upon himself the garb, and assumed the
character, of Jupiter.
Pliny says that medicine was the last of the sciences introduced into
Rome, and that the Septimont City was six hundred years without a regular
physician. Archagathus, a Grecian, settled in Rome about 300 B. C., and if
he was a fair sample of those who followed him, it had been better for
Rome that it had remained another six hundred years "without a regular
physician." He introduced cruel and painful escharotics, and made free use
of the knife and the lancet. He was a humbug of the first water, and a
quack besides, and as such he was banished in a few years.
The Christian era introduced some light into the medical, as well as the
religious world; yet we learn, by both sacred and profane writers, that
truth and knowledge were the exceptions, and ignorance and humbug were the
rule by which medicine was practised by those who pretended to the art.
Names changed, characters remained the same.
The priests still held their own, and were not, as already shown, to be
gotten rid of, as the witches and wizards, their rivals and imitators, by
litigation, nor was their power broken until the Decree of the Council of
Tours in 1163 A. D., which prohibited priests and deacons from performing
certain surgical operations.
After the Reformation the vocations of spiritual and medical adviser
diverged wider and wider, until now a priest or minister is seldom
consulted for bodily infirmities, and only by persons of the most ignorant
and superstitious denominations.
Setting the priesthood aside did not suppress humbugs in medicine. In fact
the profession went into disrepute, which the priests hastened, and a
lower order of people took upon themselves the practice of deceiving the
sick and afflicted. Now and then a greater humbug than common would spring
up, and for a time draw the rabble after him, till the next arose to
eclipse him.
From the discovery of America to about 1600, ambitious upstarts, humbugs,
and seekers of fame and fortune were drawn away from the old world, and
either for this reason, or because the biographers were attracted to a
more interesting field, accounts of medical celebrities are very meagre;
but from the latter period to the present day there has been no lack of
records from which to draw our material.
During the 17th and 18th centuries medical impostors had things all their
own way. Ignorance was no hinderance to advancement, socially or
pecuniarily. Some men published, in their own names, voluminous works, in
both English and Latin, which they themselves could not read. By soft
words and cunning arts others gained high positions, and, without
knowledge of the first branch of medical science, became "court
physicians."
From the lowest walks, they rose up on every side: from the cobbler's
bench, and the tailor's board; from cutting up meat in the butcher's shop,
to "cutting up" naughty boys in a pedagogue's capacity; from shaving the
unwashed rabble behind the striped barber's pole, to shaving their wives
behind counters, where they measured the cloth of the weaver, they became
cobblers of poor healths, butchers of men, and shavers of the invalided
public. But these will be discoursed of under another head.
We here offer one proof of this state of affairs by a quotation from the
original charter of the first College of Physicians, granted by Henry
VIII., which reads, "Before this period a great multitude of ignorant
persons, of which the greater part had no insight into physic, _nor into
any other kind of learning_,--some could not even read the Book,--so far
forth that common artificers, as smiths, weavers, and women boldly and
accustomedly took upon themselves great cures, to the high displeasure of
God, great infamy of the faculty, and the grievous hurt, damage, and
destruction of many of the king's liege people."
The meetings of this august body (College of Physicians) were held at the
house of Dr. Linacre. "He was a gentleman of distinction, both as a
physician and scholar." He became disgusted with physic, and took "holy
orders" five years before his death. He was one of the original
petitioners of the charter, which complained that the above rabble of
doctors could not read the Book (Bible). Now see the ignorance--the
hypocrisy of the man!
Dr. Caius, who wrote his epitaph, says of Linacre, "He certainly was not a
very profound theologian, for a short time before his death he read the
New Testament for the first time, when, so greatly was he astonished at
finding the rules of Christianity so widely at variance with their
practice, that he threw down the sacred volume in a passion, saying,
'Either this is not gospel, or we are not Christians.'" This was just
prior to 1600.
This Dr. Caius is supposed to be the same character whom Shakspeare
introduced in his "_Merry Wives of Windsor_;" and as it is a fact patent
to all that the great poet had no very exalted opinion of doctors, and
would "throw physic to the dogs," it has been suggested that Caius was
produced by him on that ground.
There are others of this and a later period, whom, though ranking amongst
the greatest of humbugs, we defer mentioning here, but will notice in our
chapter on quacks.
Mr. Jeaffreson, in his excellent work, "Book About Doctors," to which work
I am indebted for several anecdotes, says,--
"The lives of three physicians--Sydenham, Sir Hans Sloane, and
Heberden--completely bridge over the uncertain period between old
empiricism and modern science."
The former, Dr. Thomas Sydenham, was born at Windford Eagle, Dorsetshire,
England, in 1624, and was esteemed as an excellent physician and profound
scholar of his day. Nothing is known of his boyhood. For a time he was a
soldier. He was about forty years old when admitted a member of the
College of Physicians. Dr. Richard Blackmore, his contemporary, who was
but a pedagogue at the outstart himself, but afterwards knighted as Sir
Richard, says of Dr. Sydenham, "He was only a disbanded officer, who
entered upon the practice of medicine for a maintenance, without any
preparatory learning." The fact of his possessing a diploma went for
nothing, since Dr. Meyersbach obtained his about this time for a few
shillings, and without the rudiments of an education, made a splendid
living out of the credulity even of the most learned and fashionable
classes of English society, and arrived at the height of honor and
distinction.
The reader must admit that diplomas were cheap honors, when one was
granted to a dog! A young English gentleman, for the sport of the thing,
paid the price of a medical diploma soon after Dr. Meyersbach's was
granted, and had it duly recorded in the archives of the college (Erfurth)
as having been awarded to Anglicus Ponto.
"And who was Anglicus Ponto?"
"None other than the gentleman's dog--a fine mastiff."
But this question was not asked till too late to prevent the joke. It had
the good effect, however, to raise at once the price of degrees.
Dr. Sydenham published several medical works, copies of which are now
extant, but his pretensions to skill availed him but little in time of
need. His prescriptions--some of them, at least--were very absurd, and
during his latter years, while enjoying a lucrative practice, and
possessing the utmost confidence of the _bon ton_, he suffered
excruciating pains from the gout, which, with other complications, ended
his days. "Physician, heal thyself."
[Illustration: DR. ANGLICUS PONTO.]
Dr. Blackmore, an aspirant to medical fame, applied to Dr. Sydenham, while
residing in Pall Mall, with the following inquiry:--
"What is the best course of study for a medical student?"
"Read Don Quixote," was Sydenham's reply. "It is a very good book. I read
it yet." I find this in a biographical dictionary of 1779. While some
biographers endeavor to pass this off as a joke, it is a well-known fact
that the doctor was a sceptic in medicine, and those who knew him best
believe that he meant just what he said.
On the arrival of Dr. Sloane in London, he waited on Dr. Sydenham, as
being the great gun of the town at that time, and presented a letter of
introduction, in which an enthusiastic friend had set forth Sloane's
qualifications in glowing language, as being perfected in anatomy, botany,
and the various branches of medicine. Sydenham finished the letter, threw
it on the table, eyed the young man very sharply, and said,--
"Sir, this is all very fine, on paper--very fine; but it won't do.
Anatomy! botany! Nonsense. Why, sir, I know an old woman in Covent Garden
who better understands botany; and as for anatomy, no doubt my butcher can
dissect a joint quite as well. No, no, young man; this is all stuff. You
must go to the bedside; it is only there that you can learn disease."
In spite of this mortifying reception, however, Sydenham afterwards took
the greatest interest in Dr. Sloane, frequently taking the young man with
him in his chariot on going his rounds.
In "Lives of English Physicians," the author, in writing of Dr. Sydenham,
says, "At the commencement of his practice, it is handed down to us, that
it was his ordinary custom, when consulted by patients for the first time,
to hear attentively their story, and then reply, "Well, I will consider
your case, and in a few days will prescribe something for you;" thereby
gaining time to look up such a case. He soon learned that this
deliberation would not do, as some forgot to return after "a few days,"
and to save his fees he was obliged, _nolens volens_, to prescribe on the
spot.
A further proof of his contemptible opinion of deriving knowledge from
books, as expressed above to Dr. Blackmore, is exemplified and
corroborated in an address to Dr. Mapletoft (1675).
"The medical art could not be learned so well and surely as by use and
experience, and that he who would pay the nicest and most accurate
attention to the symptoms of distempers, would succeed best in finding out
the true means of cure."
"Riding on horseback," he says, in one of his books, "will cure all
diseases except confirmed consumption." How about curing gout?
A very amusing, though painful picture, is drawn by Dr. Winslow, a
reliable author of the seventeenth century, in his book, "Physic and
Physicians:"--
"Dr. Sydenham suffered extremely from the gout. One day, during the latter
part of his life, he was sitting near an open window, on the ground floor
of his residence in St. James Square, inspiring the cool breeze on a
summer's afternoon, and reflecting, with a serene countenance and great
complacency on the alleviation of human misery that his skill enabled him
to give. Whilst this divine man was enjoying this delicious reverie, and
occasionally sipping his favorite beverage from a silver tankard, in which
was immersed a sprig of rosemary, a sneak thief approached, and seeing the
helpless condition of the old doctor, stole the cup, right before his
eyes, and ran away with it. The doctor was too lame to run after him, and
before he could stir to ring and give alarm the thief was well off."
[Illustration: MISFORTUNES NEVER COME SINGLY.]
This reminds one of a story of an old man who stood in a highway, leaning
on his staff, and crying, in a feeble, croaking voice, "Stop thief! stop
thief!"
"What is the matter, sir?" inquired a fellow, approaching.
"O, a villain has stolen my hat from my head, and run away."
"Your hat!" looking at the bare head; "why didn't you run after him?"
"O, my dear sir, I can't run a step. I am very lame."
"Can't run! then here goes your wig." And so saying, the fellow caught the
poor old man's wig, and scampered away at the top of his speed.
Dr. Sydenham died December 29, 1689. He could not be termed a quack, but
certainly he was a consummate humbug.
An author, before quoted, after copying a description of the "poor
physician" of the age, adds,--
"How it calls to mind the image of Dr. Oliver Goldsmith, when, with a
smattering of medical knowledge and a German diploma, he tried to pick out
of the miseries and ignorance of his fellow-creatures the means of keeping
soul and body together! He, too, poet and doctor, would have sold a pot of
rouge to a faded beauty, or a bottle of hair dye, or a nostrum warranted
to cure the bite of a mad dog."
"Set a rogue to catch a rogue." And to this principle we are indebted for
the exposition of many fallacies and humbugs pursued by early physicians
in order to gain practice.
"Dr. Radcliffe," says Dr. Hannes, "on his arrival in London, employed half
of the porters in town to call for him at the coffee-houses (a famous
resort of physicians of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries) and
places of public resort, so that his name might become known."
On the other hand, Radcliffe accused Dr. Hannes of the same trick a few
years later. Doctors were doctors' own worst enemies. Instead of standing
by each other of the same school, in lip service, or passing by each
other's errors and imperfections in silence, as they do nowadays, they
quarrelled continually, accusing each other of the very tricks they
practised themselves.
Of Dr. Meade it was confidently asserted, that without practice at first,
he opened extensive correspondence with all the nurses and midwives in his
vicinity, associated and conversed with apothecaries and gossips, who,
hoping for his trade, would recommend him as a skilful practitioner. The
ruse worked, and soon the doctor found his calls were _bona fide_. This is
a trick that some American physicians we know of may have learned from Dr.
Meade. Certainly they know and practise the deception.
When Dr. Hannes went to London, he opened the campaign with a coach and
four. The carriage was of the most imposing appearance, the horses were
the best bloods, sleek and high-spirited, the harnesses and caparisons of
the richest mountings of silver and gold, with the most elegant trimmings.
"By Jove, Radcliffe!" exclaimed Meade, "Dr. Hannes' horses are the finest
I have ever seen."
"Umph," growled Radcliffe, "then he will be able to sell them for all the
more." But Dr. Radcliffe's _prognosis_ was at fault for once; and
notwithstanding all the prejudice that Radcliffe and his friends could
bring to bear against Hannes, and the lampooning verses spread broadcast
against him, he kept his "fine horses," and rode into a flourishing
business.
To make his name known, Dr. Hannes used to send liveried footmen running
about the streets, with directions to poke their heads into every coach
they met, and inquire anxiously, "Is Dr. Hannes here?" "Is this Dr.
Hannes' carriage?" etc.
Acting upon these orders, one of these fellows, after looking into every
carriage from Whitehall to Royal Exchange, ran into a coffee-house, which
was one of the great places of meeting for members of the medical
profession. Several physicians were present, among whom was Radcliffe.
"Gentlemen," said the liveried servant, hat in hand, "can your honors tell
me if Dr. Hannes is present?"
"Who wants Dr. Hannes, fellow?" demanded Radcliffe.
"Lord A. and Lord B., your honor," replied the man.
"No, no, friend," responded the doctor, with pleasant irony; "those lords
don't want _your master_; 'tis he who wants them."
The humbug exploded, but Hannes had got the start before this occurred.
A worthy biographer begins thus, in writing of Dr. Radcliffe: "The
Jacobite partisan, the physician without learning, the luxurious _bon
vivant_, Radcliffe, who grudged the odd sixpence of his tavern score,"
etc., "was born in Yorkshire, in the year 1650."
But notwithstanding Radcliffe's plebeian birth, he died rich, therefore
respected--a fact which hides many sins and imperfections. He not only
humbugged the people of his day into the belief that he was a learned and
eminent physician, but by his shrewdness in disposing of his gains, in
bestowing wealth where it would tell in after years, when his body had
returned to the dust from whence it came,--such as giving fifty thousand
dollars to the Oxford University as a fund for the establishment of the
great "Radcliffe Library," etc.,--he succeeded in humbugging subsequent
generations into the same belief.
Certainly there is room for a few more such humbugs.
Dr. Barnard de Mandeville, in "Essays on Charity and Charity Schools,"
says of Radcliffe, "That a man with small skill in physic, and hardly any
learning, should by vile arts get into practice, and lay up wealth, is no
mighty wonder; but that he should so deeply work himself into the good
opinion of the world as to gain the general esteem of a nation, and
establish a reputation beyond all contemporaries, with no other qualities
but a perfect knowledge of mankind, and a capacity of making the most of
it, is something extraordinary."
Mandeville further accuses him of "an insatiable greediness after wealth,
no regard for religion, or affection for kindred, no compassion for the
poor, and hardly any humanity to his fellow-creatures; gave no proofs that
he loved his country, had a public spirit, or love of the arts, books, or
literature;" and asks, in summing up all this, "What must we judge of his
motives, the principle he acted from, when after his death we find that he
left but a mere trifle among his (poor) relatives who stood in need, and
left an immense treasure to a university that did not want it?"
"Radcliffe was not endowed with a kindly nature," says another writer.
"Meade, I love you," he is represented as saying to his fascinating
adulator, "and I will tell you a secret to make your fortune. Use all
mankind ill."
Radcliffe had practised what he preached. Though mean and penurious, he
could not brook meanness in others.
The rich miser, John Tyson, approximating his end, magnanimously resolved
to pay two of his three million guineas to Dr. Radcliffe for medical
advice. The miserable old man, accompanied by his wife, came up to London,
and tottered into the doctor's office at Bloomsbury Square.
"I wish to consult you, sir; here are two guineas."
"You may go, sir," exclaimed Radcliffe.
The old miser had trusted that he was unknown, and he might pass for a
poor wretch, unable to pay the five guineas expected from the wealthy, as
a single consultation fee.
"You may go home and die, and be d----d; for the grave and the devil are
ready for Jack Tyson of Hackney, who has amassed riches out of the public
and the tears of orphans and widows."
As the miserable old man turned away, Radcliffe exclaimed, "You'll be a
dead man in less than ten days."
It required little medical skill, in the feeble condition of the old man,
in order to give this correct prognosis.
Radcliffe was the Barnum of doctors. "_Omnia mutantur, et nos mutamus in
illis_," exclaimed Lotharius the First. But that "all things are changed,
and we change with them," did not apply to medical humbugs during the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries--no, nor in the nineteenth century,
as we will show, particularly in our articles on Quacks and Patent
Medicines.
[Illustration: THE MISER OUTWITS HIMSELF.]
The requisites essential to success are amusingly described by a writer of
the former time, as follows:--
_First._ A decent black suit, and (if your credit will stretch so far), a
plush jacket, not a pin the worse if threadbare as a tailor's cloak--it
shows the more reverend antiquity.
_Second._ You must carry a caduceus, or cane, like Mercury, capped with a
civet-box (or snuff-box like Sir Richard's), and must walk with becoming
gravity, as if in deep contemplation upon an arbitrament between life and
death.
_Third._ You must hire convenient lodgings in a respectable neighborhood,
with a hatch[1] at the door; have your reception-room hung with pictures
of some celebrated physicians, ancient historical scenes, and anatomical
plates, and the floor belittered with gallipots and half-empty bottles.
Any sexton will furnish your window with a skull, in hope of your custom.
_Fourth._ Let your desk never be without some old musty Greek and Arabic
authors, and on your table some work on anatomy, open at a picture page,
to amuse, if not astonish spectators, and carelessly thrown on the same a
few gilt shillings, to represent so many guineas received that morning as
fees.
_Fifth._ Fail not to patronize neighboring alehouses, which may, in turn,
recommend you to inquirers; and hold correspondence with all the nurses
and midwives whose address you may obtain, to applaud your skill at
gossiping.
_Sixth._ Be not over modest in airy pretensions, not forgetting that
loquaciousness and impudence are essentials to gaining a fool's
confidence. In case you are naturally backward in language, or have an
impediment of speech, you are recommended to persevere in a habit of
mysterious and profound silence before patients, rendered impressive by
grave nods and ahems.
EARLY FRENCH PHYSICIANS.
From what meagre biographies we have of French doctors of the past, we are
led to believe that, as at the present time, the humbugs outnumbered the
honest medical practitioners. In the days of Clovis and the great
Charlemagne, before the power of Rome was broken, before Russia was a
nation, and when England was subject to the caprices of many masters,
there were many surgeons employed in the armies of these kings, but the
priests and wizards were the physicians to the great public. The surgeons
possessed all the knowledge there was to be attained at that distant day;
yet they made the heart, not the brain, the centre of thought, and "the
palace of the soul," knew little of anatomy, and nothing of the
circulation of the blood.
The physicians of later periods held court positions by flattery, not by
merit. This was particularly true up to and inclusive of the reign of
"LOUIS LE GRAND." Those who attended as physicians upon the court of this
remarkable monarch of France for seventy-two years, received no stipend
whatever, except the honor of holding so exalted a position as court
physician to such a mighty ruler; and, notwithstanding the outside
practice that this elevated station necessarily brought them, but few
physicians could long bear the enormous expense attending that position.
Louis resided at a distance from his capital. His changes of residence
were continual, and not without a design, and chiefly made for the purpose
of creating and maintaining a number of artificial distinctions. By these
he kept the court in a state of constant anxiety, expense, and
expectation. When the next proposed change was announced, he had made it
the fashion for courtiers to accompany him,--to Versailles, to St.
Germain, or Marly,--and to occupy apartments near him, and the
extravagance and magnificence in which he made it incumbent upon his
followers to appear, with the frequent prescribed changes, rendered it too
expensive a position for a man to sustain, unless possessed of a previous
ample fortune. The surgeons of the armies were paid for their services.
Both Drs. O'Meara and Antommarchi have testified to Napoleon's scepticism
in medicine and distrust of physicians. But "surgeons are godlike," he is
represented as saying, and upon all worthy he bestowed the "Legion of
Honor."
At St. Helena, Dr. Antommarchi was endeavoring to persuade the emperor to
take a simple remedy which he had prepared for him.
"Bah!" exclaimed Napoleon, "I cannot; it is beyond my power to take
medicine."
"I pray your majesty to try," entreated the doctor.
"The aversion I have for the slightest preparation is inconceivable. I
have exposed myself to the dangers of the battle-field with indifference;
I have seen death without betraying emotion; but to take medicine, I
cannot," was his reply.
Madame Bertrand, who was present, tried also to persuade the emperor to
take the physician's prescription.
"How do you manage to take all those abominable pills and drugs, Madame
Bertrand, which the doctor is continually prescribing for you?" asked the
emperor.
"O, I take them without stopping to think about it," was her reply; "and I
beg your majesty will do the same."
Still the dying man shook his head, and appealed to General Montholon, who
gave a similar answer.
"Do you think it will relieve me from this oppression, doctor?" he finally
asked of Dr. Antommarchi.
"I do, my dear sire; and I entreat your majesty to drink it."
"What is it?" asked Napoleon, eying the glass suspiciously.
"Merely some orange water," was the reply.
"Give it me, then;" and the emperor seized the cup and drank the contents
at one draught.
"The emperor has no faith in medicine, and never takes any," said Las
Cases, in his memoirs.
About the year 1723, a man sprang into notice in Paris, styling himself
Dr. Villars. He claimed relationship to the Duke Louis Hector Villars, and
the Abbe Pons is represented as saying that "Dr. Villars is superior to
the great marshal, Louis Hector. The duke kills men,--the doctor prolongs
their existence."
Villars declared that his uncle, who had been killed at the age of one
hundred years, and who might, but for his accidental death, have lived
another half century, had confided to him the secret of his longevity.
It consisted of a medicine, which, if taken according to directions
accompanying each bottle, would prolong the life of the fortunate
possessor _ad infinitum_.
Villars employed several assistants to stand on the corners of the
streets, and who, when a funeral was seen passing, would exclaim,--
"Ah! if the unfortunate deceased had but taken Dr. Villars' nostrum, he
might now be riding in his own carriage, instead of in a hearse."
"Of course," says our authority, "the rabble believed the testimony of
such respectable and _disinterested_ appearing witnesses, and made haste
to obtain the doctor's nostrum--and instructions." And here is where the
laugh comes in.
The patient received positive instructions to live temperately, to eat
moderately, bathe daily, to avoid all excesses, to take steady and
moderate exercise, to rise early, and, in fact, to obey all the laws of
nature. Of course those who persevered in these instructions were greatly
benefited thereby, and the dupes, attributing their recovery to the use of
the nostrum, lauded the doctor.
The medicine, put up in a small bottle, carefully labelled, and sold for
the modest sum of five francs, consisted of water from the River Seine,
tinctured with a quantity of spirits of nitre. A few were wise enough to
see the trick, but most people believed in the efficacy of the nostrum.
Unfortunately for Villars, he intrusted his secret to another, the humbug
leaked out, and Othello's occupation was gone; but not, however, until
Villars had amassed a large fortune from the credulity of the public.
This brings to mind a story, the truth of which can be vouched for,
respecting a New England doctor. His labels contained the following
instructions:--
"The doctor charges you to take care of the health God has given you. In
eating and exercise be moderate. Avoid bad habits and excesses that sap
the life from you. Use no salt pork, newly-baked fine bread, vinegar,
coffee, strong tea, or spirits while taking this medicine. 'Tis not in the
power of man to restore you to health unless you regard these directions."
"What do you think of this?" asked the editor of a journal of Dr. P.,
former professor of H---- College, presenting a vial of the high dilution,
as the medicine was, labelled as above.
"All very well," the doctor replied, after having read the label; "for if
the vial contains nothing but water, with just sufficient alcohol to keep
it, a strict observance of these directions might restore you to health."
"You have treated my case for a long time, doctor, and have never given me
such instructions. Pray why don't _you_ get up something similar?"
"Well, what was his reply?" I asked, as the editor hesitated.
"O, he has not yet informed me."
AMERICAN HUMBUGS.
Humbug is not necessarily synonymous with ignorance. So far from it, that
doubtless a very perfect and successful man in the art of humbugging must
be educated to his business.
The following true statement is a case in point: A physician of New York,
now in excellent standing, who "rolls in riches," and whose own carriage
is drawn by a span of horses that Bonner once might have envied, was but a
few years ago as poor as a church mouse, and as unknown as Scripture. He
had graduated with honors in Transylvania University, opened an office in
a country town, where his knowledge and talents were unappreciated, and
which place he abandoned after a twelve months' patient waiting for a
practice which did not come. He had become poorer every month, and but
for the kind assistance of early friends, must have perished of want.
"Either it is distressingly healthy here, or the good people are afraid to
trust their lives and healths in the hands of an inexperienced physician,"
he remarked to a friend to whom he applied for means for a new start
elsewhere.
"And where will you try your luck next?" inquired his friend.
"In New York city."
"In New York city?"
"Yes, and I shall there succeed," he exclaimed, with great determination.
"Well, I hope in my heart of hearts you will," was his friend's reply, as
he kindly loaned him the required sum of money.
Had his friend asked the advice of a third party before making the loan,
doubtless the answer would have been something like the following, though
it was respecting another case:--
"Dr. J. wants me to loan him some money for thirty days; do you suppose he
will refund it?"
"What! lend him money?" was the reply. "He return it? No, sir; if you lend
that man an emetic he would never _return_ it."
On his borrowed funds,--neither principal nor interest of which his kind
friend ever expected him to be able to return,--the doctor entered the
great metropolis. He hired a house in a respectable locality, and hung out
his sign. During his long quiet days in the country village he had read a
great deal, and was "up to the tricks" of his predecessors. He had
particularly posted himself on the ways and means resorted to by some of
those physicians, of whom we have already made brief mention, for getting
into practice.
[Illustration: COMMENCING A PRACTICE IN NEW YORK.]
"What avails it that I know as much as other physicians who have entered
upon a practice? What does my diploma amount to if I have no patients?"
he asked himself over and again. Practice was now his want, and this is
the way he obtained it. Having read of a celebrated physician, who kept
his few patients a long time in waiting, under pretence that he was
preoccupied by the many who fortunately had preceded, our young physician
adopted that great man's tactics. For want of patients to keep in waiting,
he hired some decently dressed lackeys to apply regularly at his front
door, at specified times, and wait till the colored servant admitted them,
one at a time. Each was passed out after a half hour's supposed
consultation, and the next admitted. The neighbors and others passing,
seeing patients continually in waiting, some with a hand, a foot, face, or
other parts bound up, were led to read his sign, and soon a _bona fide_
patient applied, who, in turn, was kept waiting a long time,
notwithstanding the young doctor's anxiety to finger a real medical fee
from his first New York patient. Others followed, the lackeys were
dismissed, and the physician's practice was established. His merit kept
what his shrewdness had obtained.
Cannot the reader avouch for the reputed extensive rides of some country
doctor, who, without a known patient, harnessed his bare-ribbed old horse
to his crazy gig, and drove furiously about the country, returning by a
roundabout way, without having made a single professional visit, thereby
humbugging the honest country people into a belief that he had innumerable
patients in his route?
To quite another class of humbugs belongs the subject of the following
sketch. I have had the pleasure of meeting him but twice--may I never meet
him again. The first interview was at the board of a country hotel.
[Illustration: GRACE BEFORE MEAT.]
I had arrived late at evening by rail, and ordered a light supper. When
the tea-bell had summoned me, I found a large, phlegmatic individual
seated opposite at the table, who possibly had arrived by the same
conveyance as myself. His person was quite repulsive. He was probably
fifty years of age, his eyes watery and restless, his thin stock of
hair--indicating a corresponding poverty of brain--black, streaked by
gray, was stuck back professionally (!) over a low bump of veneration, and
high organs of firmness and self-esteem, which, with a Roman nose, large,
protruding under jaw, and wide, open mouth, gave him a striking
appearance, at least. But what was most observable was his thin, uneven,
scraggy whiskers, uncombed, and besmeared by tobacco juice and bits of the
weed, drooling down over their uncertain length, over waistcoat, and so
out of sight below the table. His coat sleeves had evidently been
substituted for a handkerchief when too great a surplus of tobacco juice
obstructed his face. He bent his great, watery eyes over towards me, and
opened the ball by suggesting that I ask a blessing over the food so
bountifully and temptingly laid before us. Having too much compassion on
the present exhausted state of my stomach to disregard its immediate
demands, and too little confidence in the veneration of my _vis-a-vis_ to
return the request, I went to eating, while he closed one eye, keeping the
other on a plate of hot steak just placed before him by the table girl. I
have since been strongly reminded of him by the character "Bishopriggs,"
in Wilkie Collins's book, "_Man and Wife_." I think, however, for
hypocrisy, the present subject exceeded Bishopriggs. Having wagged his
enormous jaw a few times, by way of grace, he began eating and conversing
alternately.
"I take it, friend, you're a railroad conductor, coming in so late," he
suggested, between mouthfuls.
"No," was my brief reply.
"Perhaps, cap'n, you're a drummer. Sell dry or wet goods?"
"No."
"A newspaper man?"
I merely shook my head.
"Then a patent medicine vender?"
"No!" emphatically.
"Not a minister," he asserted. "Perhaps a doctor," he perseveringly
continued.
"Yes, sir; I am a physician."
"O! ah! indeed! I am rejoiced to learn it. Give me your hand, sir," he
exclaimed, rising and reaching his enormous palm across the table. "I am
rejoiced, as I said before, to meet a brother."
"A _brother_!" I repeated, with unfeigned surprise and disgust.
"Yes, a brother! I, too, am a doctor. I have the honor," etc., for the
next ten minutes, while I hastened to finish my supper.
His last interrogation was what a college boy would call a "stunner."
"_Do you think, sir, that the Fillopian ducks are the same in a male as
they are in a female?_"
[Dr. S., a quack living in Winsted, Conn., once said to an educated
physician, that he sometimes found difficulty in introducing a female
catheter on account of the "prostrate" (meaning _prostate_) gland,--which
exists only in the male!]
I saw him once after the above interesting interview. He entered the drug
house of Rust, Bird, & Brother, Boston, just as I was about to go out. I
could not refrain from turning my attention towards him, as I recognized
his stentorian voice.
"Have you got any _Bonyset arbs_?" was all I waited to hear. I
subsequently learned that he was known in Vermont and part of New York
State by the _sobriquet_ of "Dr. Pusbelly."
The following story respecting "Dr. Pusbelly," related in my hearing by a
stage-driver, is in perfect keeping with the character of the man, as he
impressed me in my first interview at the country hotel.
DR. PUSBELLY.
One sunny day in autumn I had occasion to take a long journey "away down
in Maine," when and where there was no railroad. I was seated on the
outside of a four-horse stage-coach, with three or four other passengers,
one of whom was a lady, who preferred riding in that elevated station to
being cramped up inside the coach with eight persons, besides sundry
babies, a poodle dog, and a parrot.
"Sam," our driver, was a sociable fellow, full of pleasant stories,--and
Medford rum, though he was considered a perfectly safe Jehu. The greatest
drawback to his otherwise agreeable yarns was his habit of swearing.
Notwithstanding the presence of the lady, he would occasionally round his
periods and emphasize his sentences with an expletive which had better
have been omitted.
"Can't you tell a story just as well without swearing, Sam?" I inquired.
"O, no; it comes second natur. Why, cap'n, everybody swears sometimes. And
that reminds me--Git up, Jerry" (to the horse). "There was an old doctor,
Pill--Pilgarlic, I called him, on account of his pills, and the strong
effluvia from his cataract mouth. He was up round Champlain, where I drove
before the d--d railroads ruined the great stage business. Well, he was as
religious as a cuss,--that ain't swearin', is it, cap'n? Well, he came
round there pill-peddling, you see, and in order to make the old women
believe in his (expletive) medicines--"
"Don't swear, Sam. You can tell the story better without. Come, try,"
interrupted a passenger, with a twinkle of fun in his expressive eyes.
"Who's telling this story,--you or me?" exclaimed Sam, with a wink.
"Yes, he talked pills by Bible doctrine, swore his essences by the blood
of the Lamb, the ---- old hypocrite. I knowed he was a blamed old
hypocrite, for I had to drive him round every onct in a while, and he
never failed, in season and out of place, to exhort me to seek salvation,
and a new heart, and pure understanding, while, all the time, the filthy
tobacco juice slobbered all over his filthier mug, and down his scattering
whiskers;--now and then one, like the scattering trees in yonder
field,--all over his vest; and his coat sleeves were as bad, from frequent
drawing across his face. Yes, he said, 'Jesus,' but he meant pills. He
said, 'Get wine and milk, without money and without price,' but he meant,
buy his essences, _with_ money. The old gals went crazy over him, and the
pill market was lively. The louder he prayed and exhorted, the faster he
sold his medicines.
"One Sunday afternoon he wanted me to shy him over the lake; so, taking
his Hem-book and Bible in his coat pockets, and his two tin trunks of
medicine, he followed me to the shore. He seated his great carcass in the
starn of the boat, while I rowed him over the lake. All the way he
slobbered tobacco juice; and gabbled his religion at me, while
occasionally I swore mine back at him.
"When we got over, I jumped out, and told him to set steady till I hauled
the boat up further; but he didn't mind, and rose up in the starn with his
kit, a tin trunk in each hand, just as I gave the craft a yerk, when over
backwards he went kerflounce into the water,--carcass, trunks, Bible,
pills, and essences, all into the lake. O, the d----! You ought to have
seen him. Up he came, puffin' and blowin' like a big whale! Then I fished
him out with the boat-hook, and went for his trunks. No sooner had he
reached _terror firmer_ than, blowin' the surplus water and tobacco out of
his throat, _he commenced swearin' at me_. Religion went by the board! O,
Jerusalem! Such a blessing as he gave me I never before heard. I knowed it
was pent up in him, the ---- old sinner, and he only wanted the occasion
to let it out. The bath done it! It was the cussidest baptism I ever
witnessed in the hull course of my life."
"Was he called Dr. Pusbelly?" I suggested, at the close of the narrative.
"Yes, that was his name; but I called him Old Pilgarlic, blame him."
"PROFESSOR BREWSTER."
When I lived in Hartford, Conn., some years ago, there resided in that
city a black man, then somewhat noted as a "seer" among various classes of
whites, as well as blacks, and who resides there still, and has since
become quite famous. In what category to place this man,--Professor
Brewster, so called,--it is perhaps a little difficult to determine;
whether among "clairvoyants," "animal magnetizers," "natural doctors,"
"fortune-tellers," or what, or all, it must be admitted that he is a
"character," and wields great influence among certain classes. Nature made
him a superior man of his race, and what thorough, early education
might have done for him, we are left to conjecture. So noted is
Professor Brewster, that I have thought him a proper subject for comment
here, as a living illustration of what a man of subtle genius may
accomplish, though wholly without "book learning," or other approved
instruction, in the field of medicine.
[Illustration: OLD PILGARLIC TAKES A BATH.]
A reliable friend of mine has gathered the following facts and statements
in regard to Professor Brewster, and taken pains to secure the
accompanying engraving of the veritable professor, as he appears in the
year 1872.
[Illustration: PROFESSOR BREWSTER.]
"The full name of this remarkable man, now residing in Hartford, Conn., is
Worthington Hooker Erasmus Brewster, commonly called, by those who venture
on familiarity, 'Worthy' Brewster, for short. Worthy is of full medium
height, powerfully built, and well knitted together. His head is very well
moulded, and also extremely large, but not disproportionally large for his
massive shoulders. He was born of 'poor but honest' (though undoubtedly
black) parents, in the town of Granby, Conn., on the 21st day of January,
1812.
"The boy Worthy, at the age of six years, went with his mother (his father
having died) and her new husband to the hills of Litchfield County to
live, and was there brought up to youth's estate, enjoying the
opportunities of education at the district school in what is now _West_
Winsted. The places of the birth and early rearing of Professor Brewster
are fixed beyond question, which fact will, it is hoped, forbid the
contention of other towns, and of 'seven cities,' or more, over the
question, after he shall have passed away. Worthy was not attracted to
literature and science, however. He seemed to spurn these, as unworthy of
his natural gifts to waste their time upon. But he learned to read, and
can write a 'fair hand.' Seeing no special need of being cramped and
confined by the narrow rules of spelling, Worthy has invented a style of
orthography for himself, and writes a compact, forcible, and even masterly
letter.
"But we must not linger on the details of his youth. Suffice it that
Worthy grew up a powerful lad, and became the conquering athlete of all
the region about his home. No man, of hundreds who tried, was able to
successfully wrestle with him. The strongest men were no match for him. He
was as agile as he was powerful, and to this day retains great elasticity
of foot and limb. He was a mysterious fellow also, and, before he was
sixteen years old, was regarded by his friends and acquaintances, of
African descent, especially, as a sort of prophet, while many whites
considered him a necromancer, and people all about declared he 'had the
devil in him' to no ordinary extent. Worthy claimed, in those days, to
'see visions,' and many stories are current among his contemporaries
regarding his then being able to 'charm snakes,' and do other miraculous
things. Abundant witnesses, such as they are, can now be found ready to
take their oaths that they have seen Worthy, 'with their own eyes,'
perform his miracles. It is certain that these believe in him.
"At the age of twenty Worthy went to New York city, where (in Lawrence
Street) he lived for the period of a year, successfully practising the art
of fortune-telling. While there Worthy first discovered his powers as a
'mesmerizer,' or magnetic physician. A school-girl, knowing that Worthy
'practised the healing art' somewhat, and suffering intensely with a
toothache, jeeringly asked him, 'Why can't you think of something to cure
my toothache?' Whereupon Worthy clapped his hands to her head, and
vigorously drew them down her cheeks, half in fun, half seriously, when,
to his astonishment, he found that all his (sound) teeth ached terribly,
while she declared that the pain had left hers. Such is his story; and it
is by no means an improbable one; for animal magnetism is a fixed fact
(however it may be analyzed or defined), and diseases are often
'magnetically' alleviated; and Worthy, with his powerful body and superb
health, as well as native force of intellect, may be as naturally gifted,
as a magnetic operator, as even Mesmer himself. Indeed, the writer is
inclined to believe that Worthy's great power over many people is largely
due to his superior vital forces.
"Worthy now turned his attention considerably to diseases, but returned to
Litchfield County for a while. At the age of twenty-six, he resolved 'to
see more of the world,' and in the capacity of steward embarked at New
Haven on board the brig Marshal, Captain Brison, freighted with horses,
and bound for a long trading voyage to the Island of Demarara, and to
South America, where they coasted during the winters, and took in coffee,
etc., in exchange for their cargo. Worthy was gone from home on this
voyage two years and two months, during which time he learned many
mysteries. He was a foreign traveller now, and his polite and
professional education may be said to have at that time become
'finished.'
"Since then Worthy has practised medicine to considerable extent, told
fortunes, 'looked' (in a crystal) for stolen property, and, if we are to
believe half of what is attested by many astute people (such as police
detectives, etc.), has, by force of his great sagacity, or in some way (he
would say, through clairvoyance), managed to achieve great success in
ferreting out lost or stolen treasures, and bringing thieves to grief.
"People of all classes in society visit him with their troubles of mind
and body. But the major part of his clientage is females. The wives and
accomplished daughters of wealthy men, as well as poor and ignorant women,
come from distant parts of the country to consult him, and a great number
of the first ladies of Hartford also consult him. Worthy carries on the
business of a 'chair-seater,' partly to occupy his time during the
intervals of his divinations, and partly to provide an excuse for cautious
persons to call on him for consultations. Those who consult him do so
mostly regarding secret matters, and they pretend to visit him to engage
him to seat chairs!
"He is consulted in respect to all sorts of diseases, and by unsuccessful,
perplexed, or doubting lovers; by husbands whose wives have absconded, and
who are anxious to call them back; by wives in regard to their wandering
husbands; by hosts of superstitious people (and these are found in all
classes), who believe themselves 'possessed by devils,' or demons. He is
expected to cast out the devils (and he does so as surely as most doctors
cure imaginary diseases). People who have lost property, and officers of
the law in search of stolen goods, consult him; and bachelors and widowers
in want of wives, and countless maids (both old and young), anxious to get
married, visit him and receive his sweet consolations, or mourn over the
ill luck which he prognosticates for them. His correspondence is large. A
hasty glance through several hundred letters in 'Professor Brewster's'
possession convinced the writer that the amount and character of the
superstition and ignorance which exist in these days, in our very midst,
are probably but little conjectured by the more cultivated classes. They
are indeed astounding, but are not confined, as we have before intimated,
to the wholly illiterate classes. People competent to write letters with
grammatical precision, and observing what would ordinarily be called an
'excellent business style,' at least, in their composition, consult the
professor; and so successful is Worthy in his diagnoses of and
prescriptions for various diseases, that many of his patients write him
letters overflowing with gratitude, while others voluntarily and
admiringly attest his skill as a 'seer.' To what talent, 'gift,' or what
secret of good luck, 'Professor Brewster' owes the many successes he wins
(even though he may fail ten times more often than he succeeds), we
cannot, of course, decide. But certain it is that he, with all his claims
to a knowledge of the 'occult,' exists, practises his arts, and through a
period of years has retained his old patients, and the postulants before
his supposed demigodship, while adding constantly to their number. In this
he is a remarkable man. He has accumulated quite a respectable property,
and is decidedly one of the 'institutions' of the enlightened and
cultivated city of Hartford.
"It should be remarked here that Worthy was, during the late civil war, a
true patriot. He was attached to the twenty-ninth regiment Connecticut
Volunteers, under Colonel Wooster (a 'colored' regiment), and was 'gone to
the war' over two years. His powers as a 'clairvoyant,' or 'fore-seer,'
served him in the war, and he 'always knew what was coming,' he says. As a
part of the curious history of the war, serving to show how little the
people of the North understood, in the first years of the contest, that
they were fighting for a great humanitary end,--the abolition of chattel
slavery,--it may be noted here, that Worthy wrote to Governor Buckingham,
in August, 1862, proposing to raise a black regiment, and the governor, by
his secretary, replied to Worthy's proposition, that he then did 'not deem
it expedient,'--which fact institutes a comparison between the judgments
of the governor and Worthy, not uncomplimentary to the latter."
[Illustration]
II.
APOTHECARIES.
FIRST MENTION OF.--A POOR SPECIMEN.--ELIZABETHAN.--KING JAMES I.
[VI.].--ALLSPICE AND ALOES, SUGAR AND TARTAR EMETIC.--WAR.--PHYSICIAN
VS. APOTHECARY.--IGNORANCE.--STEALING A TRADE.--A LAUGHABLE
PRESCRIPTION.--"CASTER ILE."--MODERN DRUG SWALLOWING.--MISTAKES.--
"STEALS THE TOOLS ALSO."--SUBSTITUTES.--"A QUID."--A "SMELL" OF PATENT
MEDICINES.--"A SAMPLE CLERK."
There are few occupations wherein Old Time has wrought so few changes as
in that of the apothecary's. What it was four hundred years ago it is
to-day! Who first invented its weights, measures, and symbols, I am unable
to say; but it is a fact that they remain the same as when first made
mention of by the earliest writers on the subject.
Drop into the "corner drug store,"--and what corner has none!--examine the
balances, the tables of weights and measures, the graduating glass, the
signs for grains, scruples, ounces, and pounds, and you will find them the
same as those used by the earliest known _medical_ apothecaries, by those
of the Elizabethan period, or when King Lear (Lyr) said, "Give me an ounce
of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination; there's money for
thee."
The money has changed; _names_ of drugs are somewhat altered; some new
ones have taken the place of old ones; prescriptions changed in quality;
but quantities, and modes of expressing them, are unchanged.
"In the middle ages an apothecary was the keeper of any shop or warehouse,
and an officer appointed to take charge of a magazine."--_Webster._
We have good grounds for supposing this to have been the case in the time
of the rebuilding of the wall of Jerusalem, more that two thousand years
ago. Nehemiah informs us that the son of an apothecary assisted in
"fortifying Jerusalem unto the broad wall." Was not this the office of an
overseer, or "keeper of a magazine"? Various artisans were employed to
perform certain portions of the work, and who more appropriate or better
qualified to oversee the rebuilding of the fortifications than "an officer
appointed to take charge of the magazines"?
One more reference we draw from Scripture,[2] viz., in Exodus xxxvii. 29,
where "the holy anointing oil" (not for medicine, but for the tabernacle),
"and the pure incense of sweet spices" (not medical), "were made according
to the work [book?] of the apothecary." This, however, no more implies
that the said "apothecary" was a medical man, a dispenser of physic, or
versed in medical lore, than that the maker of shewbread (Lev. xxiv. 5)
was necessarily a pharmacist.
In fact, there seems to have been no need of an apothecary, as medicine
dispenser, until about the latter part of the thirteenth century.
The oldest known work on compounding medicines was written by Nicolaus
Mynepsus, who died in the commencement of the fourteenth century.
The first apothecaries were merely growers and dispensers of herbs, and
were but a poor and beggarly set.
Shakspeare's delineation of the "_poor apothecary of Mantua_," in Romeo
and Juliet, so completely answers the description of the whole "kit" of
druggists of the times, that we may be pardoned in quoting him.
Romeo says,--
"I do remember an apothecary,--
And hereabouts he dwells,--whom late I noted
In tattered weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples (herbs). Meagre were his looks;
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuffed, and other skins
Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds;
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scattered to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said,--
'An' if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'
* * * * *
What, ho! apothecary!
_Apothecary._ Who calls so loud?
_Romeo._ Come hither, man! I see that thou art poor.
Hold! There is forty ducats! [$80.] Let me have
A dram of poison.
_Apoth._ Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law
Is death to any he that utters them.
_Rom._ Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? Famine is on thy cheeks;
Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes;
Upon thy back hangs ragged misery;
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law;
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
_Apoth._ My poverty, but not my will, consents."
When we behold the opulent druggists of the present day, we can hardly
credit the fact that for nearly two hundred years the apothecary of Mantua
was a fair specimen of the wretches who represented that now important
branch of business.
The physician was the master, the apothecary the slave!
The following were among the rules prescribed by Dr. Bullyn for the
"apothecary's life and conduct" during the Elizabethan era:--
"1. He must serve God, be clenly, pity the poore.
2. Must not be suborned for money to hurt mankind.
4. His garden must be at hand, with plenty of herbes, seedes, and
rootes.
5. To sow, set, plant, gather, preserve, and keepe them in due time.
6. To read Dioscorides, to learn ye nature of plants and herbes.
(Dioscorides published a work on vegetable remedies about 1499, in
Greek. The _translation_ was referred to.)
8. To have his morters, stilles, pottes, filters, glasses, and boxes
cleane and sweete.
12. That he neither increase nor diminish the physician's bill
(prescription), nor keepe it for his own use.
14. That he peruse often his wares, that they corrupt not.
15. That he put not in _quid pro quo_ (i. e., substitute one drug for
another.) (Would not this be excellent advice to some of the
apothecaries of the present day?)
16. That he meddle only in his vocation.
18. That he delight to reade Nicolaus Mynepsus, and a few other
ancient authors.
19. That he remember his office is only ye physician's _cooke_.
20. That he use true waights and measures.
21. That he be not covetous or crafty, seeking his own lucre before
other men's help and comfort."
We may see the wisdom evinced by the author of the above advice,
especially in articles Nos. 2, 12, and 21, when we know of a druggist's
clerk of modern times, who, having stolen the physician's prescriptions
intrusted to his care, started out on borrowed capital, and, putting them
up as his own wonderful discoveries, advertised them extensively, until
his remedies, for all diseases which flesh is heir to, are now sold
throughout the entire universe!
As the doctors were accustomed to retain their most valuable recipes, and
put up the medicines themselves, selling them as nostrums, and because of
the heavy percentage demanded by them for those intrusted to the
apothecaries, and the small profit accruing from the sale of medicines at
the time, the poor wretched "cookes" were necessarily kept in extreme
poverty. So, in order to eke out a living, the apothecaries were also
grocers and small tradesmen. As at the present day, they were not required
to possess any knowledge of medical science beyond the reading of a few
books "relating to the nature of plants," hence very little honor or
profit could accrue from the business alone.
Grocers kept a small stock of drugs, sometimes in a corner by themselves,
but not unusually thrown about and jumbled amongst the articles kept for
culinary and other purposes. As mineral medicines became more generally
used, these were also added to the little stock, and not unfrequently was
some poisonous substance dealt out by a green clerk (as is often the case
nowadays) to the little errand girl, sent in haste for some culinary
article.
Allspice and aloes, sugar and tartar emetic, lemon essence and laudanum,
were thrown promiscuously together into drawers, or upon the most
convenient shelves, and you need not go far into the country to witness
the same lamentable spectacle in the enlightened nineteenth century. The
apothecary gave the most attention, as now, to the exposition and sale of
those articles which sold the most readily, and returned the greatest
profit. All druggists at present sell cigars and tobacco, at the same time
not unusually posting up a conspicuous sign--
NO SMOKING ALLOWED HERE.
The following is a case in point:--
_Druggist._ Smoking not allowed here, sir.
_Customer._ Why! I just bought this cigar from you.
_Druggist._ Well, we also sell emetics and cathartics. That does not
license customers to sit down and enjoy them on the premises.
In the thirteenth year of the reign of James I. of England (and James VI.
of Scotland) the apothecaries and grocers were disunited. The charter,
however, placed the former under the control of the College of Physicians,
who were endowed with the arbitrary powers of inspecting their shops and
wares, and inflicting punishments for alleged neglects, deficiencies, and
malpractices.
The physicians knew so little, that the apothecaries soon were enabled to
cope with them; "and before a generation had passed away the apothecaries
had gained so much, socially and pecuniarily, that the more prosperous of
them could afford to laugh in the face of the faculty, and by the
commencement of the next century they were fawned upon by the younger
physicians, and were in a position to quarrel with the old, which they
soon improved."
As it was a common occurrence for patients to apply at the apothecary's
for a physician, the former either recommended the applicant to one who
favored him, _or else prescribed for the patient himself_. The
promulgation of this fact was the declaration of war with the old
physicians, who heretofore had done their best to keep down the
apothecaries. The former threatened punishment, as provided by law; the
latter retaliated, by refusing to call them in to consult on difficult
cases. "Starving graduates of Oxford and Cambridge, with the certificate
of the college in their pockets, were imbittered by having to trudge along
on foot and see the mean 'medicine mixers,' who had scarce scholarship
enough to construe a prescription, dashing by in their carriages."
The war progressed,--Physician _vs._ Apothecary,--and the rabble joined.
Education sided with the physicians, interest sided with the
apothecaries.
"So modern 'pothecaries taught the art,
By doctors' bills, to play the doctors' part;
Bold in the practice of mistaken rules,
Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools."
To circumvent the apothecaries, a dispensary was established in the
College of Physicians, where prescriptions were dispensed at cost. While
this proceeding served to lessen the apothecary's income for a time, it
could not greatly benefit the prescribing physician. The former might
parallel his case with Iago, and say of the physician, he
"Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed."
Physicians were divided into two classes,--Dispensarians and
Anti-dispensarians. Charges of ignorance, extortion, and of double-dealing
were preferred on both sides. The dispensary doctors charged their
opponents with playing into the hands of the apothecaries by prescribing
enormous doses, often changing their prescriptions uselessly to increase
the druggists' revenues and _their own percentage_! On the other hand, the
dispensarians were accused of charging a double profit on prescriptions
whenever the ignorance of the patient, respecting the value of drugs,
would admit of the extortion.
Had the physicians been united, the apothecaries would have had to
succumb; but a divided house must fall, and the apothecaries won the day.
A London apothecary, having been prosecuted by the college for prescribing
for a patient without a regular physician's advice, carried the case up to
the House of Lords, where he obtained a verdict in his favor; and another
apothecary, Mr. Goodwin, whose goods had been seized by some dispensary
doctors, having obtained a large sum for damages, which being considered
test cases, the doctors from this time (about 1725) discontinued the
exercise of their authority over the apothecaries.
Thus emancipated from the supervision of the physicians, the apothecaries
began to feel their own importance, and most of them prescribed boldly for
patients, without consulting a doctor. The ignorance of many of them was
only equalled by their impudence. It is not unusual, at the present day,
for not only apothecaries, but their most ignorant clerks, to prescribe
for persons, strangers perhaps, who call to inquire for a physician; and
cases, too, where the utmost skill and experience are required.
The following amusing anecdote is sufficiently in accordance with facts
within our own knowledge to be true, notwithstanding its _seeming_
improbability:--
ANECDOTE OF MACREADY, THE ACTOR.
The handwriting of Macready, the actor, was curiously illegible, and
especially when writing a pass to the theatre. One day, at New Orleans,
Mr. Brougham obtained one of these orders for a friend. On handing it to
the latter gentleman, he asked,--
"What is this, Brougham?"
"A pass to see Macready."
"Why, I thought it was a physician's prescription, which it most
resembles."
"So it does," acquiesced Mr. Brougham, again looking over the queer
hieroglyphics. "Let us go to an apothecary's and have it made up."
Turning to the nearest druggist's, the paper was given to the clerk, who
gave it a careless glance, and proceeded to get a vial ready.
With a second look at the paper, down came a tincture bottle, and the vial
was half filled. Then there was a pause.
Brougham and his friend pretended not to notice the proceedings. The clerk
was evidently puzzled, and finally broke down, and rang for the
proprietor, an elderly and pompous looking individual, who issued from the
inner sanctum. The clerk presented the paper, the old dispenser adjusted
his eye-glasses, examined the document for a few seconds, and then, with a
depreciating expression,--a compound of pity and contempt for the
ignorance of the subordinate,--he proceeded to fill the vial with some
apocryphal fluid, and, giving it a professional "shake up," duly corked
and labelled it.
[Illustration: THE "FREE PASS" PRESCRIPTION.]
"A cough mixture, gentlemen," he said, with a bland smile, as he handed it
to the gentleman in waiting, "and a very excellent one, too. Fifty cents,
if you please."
In a copy of the London Lancet, 1844, is reported Dr. Graham's bill. In
the same number of which is a reply by an apothecary, who asks if "the old
and respectable class of apothecaries are to be forever abolished;" and
he quotes the assertion from one of the articles in the bill: "Is it not a
notorious fact that the masses of chemists and druggists know nothing of
the business in which they are engaged?" Dr. Graham certainly ought to
have known.
Druggists are liable to make mistakes,--as are all men; but carelesness
and ignorance, one or both, are usually to be found at the bottom of the
fatalities so common in the dispensing of prescriptions. I know an old and
experienced druggist who sold a pot of extract belladonna for extract
dandelion. In the same city, on the same street, I know another who was
prosecuted for dispensing opium for taraxicum, which carelesness caused
the death of two children. The following mistake was less fatal, but only
think of the poor lady's feelings!
A servant girl was sent to a certain drug store we know of, who, in a
"rich brogue," which might have caused General Scott's eyes to water with
satisfaction, and his ears to lop like Bottom's after his transformation
by the mischievous fairy, she asked for some "caster ile," which she
wished effectually disguised.
"Do you like soda water?" asked the druggist.
"O, yis, thank ye, sir," was the prompt reply; "an' limmun, sir, if ye
plaze; long life to yeze."
The man then proceeded to draw a glass, strongly flavored with lemon, with
a dose of oil cast upon its troubled waters.
"Drink it at one swallow," said he, presenting it to the smiling Bridget.
This she did, again thanking the gentlemanly clerk.
"What are you waiting for?" he inquired, seeing that she still lingered.
"I'm waitin' for the caster ile, sir," said the girl.
"O! Why you have just taken it," replied the soda-drug man.
"Och! Murther! It was for a sick man I wanted it, an' not meself at all."
[Illustration: THE WRONG PATIENT.]
While there have been great changes in the drug trade during the last
fifty years, necessary to the increasing demand for drugs, the
establishment of wholesale houses and some specialties, and in cities, the
substitution of cigars, soda water, patent medicines, etc., for groceries
and provisions, the dispensing apothecary is nearer to what he was
hundreds of years ago, as we asserted at the commencement of this chapter,
than any other professional we know of. The paraphernalia of the shop is
nearly the same. There is no improvement in pot, in jar, in tables, in
spatula; the old, ungainly mortar is not _substituted_ by a mill; the
signs of ounces and drachms remain the same, though so near alike that
they are easily and often mistaken one for the other, and the prescription
before the dispenser is prefixed by a relic of the astrological symbol of
Jupiter,--"the god of medicine to the ancient Greeks and Egyptians,"--as a
species of superstitious invocation. In our largest cities even, in the
shop windows, the mammoth flashing blue bottles, "a relic of empiric
charlatanry," still brighten our street corners, and frighten our horses
at night, as in the days of our forefathers.
We intimated that "patent medicines" had added greatly to the trade. This
we shall treat of under its proper head. Many have arisen from penury to
affluence, from obscurity to renown, in the drug trade of later years; but
take away the tobacco trade, the soda fountain, and the outside patent
nostrums, and wherein would the apothecary now differ from his
predecessors?
"The Yankees bate the divil for swallowing drugs," said an Irishman.
"A paddy will take nothing but castor oil," replied the Yankee.
Yankee or Irish, English or Scotch, French or German, they all rush to the
drug store for pills, for powder, for whiskey (?), for tobacco, for patent
medicines, and the druggists flourish.
From the window near which I write this, I overlook a wholesale drug store
on a "retail street." The front windows contain only _patent medicines_,
and the flashy signs that announce their virtues. Few prescriptions are
dispensed within. Before the door, piled nearly a story high, I have just
counted ninety-eight boxes, and some barrels. There are hundreds of these
drug houses scattered over this city; and every other city of America has
its quota.
Yes, the Irishman had the right of it; "the Yankees _do_ bate the divil
for swallowing drugs." Further, it is my positive opinion that his
infernal majesty beats a good many of them by the encouragement of their
purchase; and, kind reader, if you have the ghost of a doubt of the truth
of our intimation, don't, I pray, promulgate it, but, like a wise judge,
withhold your decision until the evidence is in; until you hear our
exposition of "patent medicines."
A patient comes to the city for the purpose of consulting some experienced
physician for a certain complaint. Probably he gets a prescription, with
instructions to go to a certain respectable druggist or apothecary in town
to have the necessary medicines put up. Of course a respectable physician
knows of a reliable apothecary. The patient, in nine cases out of ten,
desires to retain the prescription, and often does so. He goes to another
drug store, more convenient, for a second quantity of the same; and now
let me ask the patient,--no matter who or where he is,--did you ever get
the same kind of medicine, in _look_, color, quantity, and
taste,--all,--the second time, from the same prescription? I have often
heard the patient complain that he could not get the same put up at the
very store where he got the original prescription compounded.
I once was called to visit a lady who was laboring under great
prostration; "sickness at the stomach," with constipation.
"What is the disease?" inquired the anxious husband, who had previously
employed two regular physicians for the case, and discharged them both.
"Nux vomica," was the reply.
I gathered up three of the vials on the table, and, taking them to the
designated apothecary's, I demanded the prescriptions corresponding with
the numbers on the vials. These were duplicates.
He had made a mistake! that's all. He had compounded an ounce of tincture
of nux instead of a drachm! Not that a drachm could be taken at a dose
with impunity; but whatever the dose was, the patient was continually
taking eight times as much as the physician intended to prescribe.
Another reason of the failure of the prescribing physician meeting the
expectation anticipated, is the use of old and inert medicines.
Where a man's treasure is, his heart is also. An apothecary's interest is
more in nostrums, tobacco, _soda_, etc., than in medicines; how, then, can
he follow the excellent advice of Dr. Bullyn, in article "14, that he
peruse often his wares, that they corrupt not."
But the greatest cheat is in the "substituting" business; the "_quid pro
quo_." Horse aloes may be bought for ten cents a pound. Podophyllin costs
seventy-five cents an ounce. They each act as cathartic, and I have
detected the former put in place of the latter. How is the physician to
know the cheat? How is the patient to detect it? Perhaps the former
_stuff_--aloes--may have given the victim the hemorrhoids. One dose may be
quite sufficient to produce that distressing disease. This only calls for
another prescription! So it looks a deal like a "you tickle me, and I'll
tickle you" profession, at best. Thus the patient becomes disgusted, and
resorts to our next--"Patent Medicines."
In closing this chapter on Apothecaries, I must relate a little scene to
which I was an eye-witness. Meantime, let me say to the "respectable
druggist," Don't be offended if I have slighted you by leaving you out, in
my description of the various kinds of apothecaries enumerated above.
There is a respectable class of druggists whom I have not mentioned, and
doubtless you belong to that order.
On going home one evening, not long since, I observed several boys, loud
and boisterous, surrounding a lamp post. As I approached, I heard, among
the cries and vociferations,--
"Howld to it, Jimmy; it'll be the makin' of ye."
I drew nearer, and discovered a sickly-looking lad leaning up against the
lamp post, with the stump of a cigar in his mouth, and a taller boy
endeavoring to hold him up by his jacket collar, while a short-set urchin
was stooping behind to assist in the task. They were evidently endeavoring
to teach "Jimmy" to smoke. The poor fellow was deathly sick, and faintly
begged to be let off.
"O, no, no. Stick to it, Jimmy; it'll be the makin' of yese," was
repeated.
"Sure, ye'll niver do for a _sample clark in a potecary shop_," said
another, as he blew a cloud of smoke from his own cigar stump into the
pale face of the victim to modern accomplishments.
[Illustration: A CANDIDATE FOR THE PRESIDENCY.]
"General Grant smokes, Jimmy, and you'll never be a man if you don't
learn," added a voice minus the brogue.
A policeman here interfered, and rescued the wretched "Jimmy."
"What is a sample clerk, my lad?" I asked of the boy who had used the
above expression.
"O, sir, he's the divil o' the 'potecary shop; the lean, pimply-faced
urchin what tastes all the pizen drugs for the boss. If his constitution
is tough enough to stand it the first year, then they makes a clark of him
the nixt."
[Illustration]
III.
PATENT MEDICINES
"Expunge the whole."--POPE.
"These are terrible alarms to persons grown fat and wealthy."--SOUTH.
PATENT MEDICINES.--HOW STARTED.--HOW MADE.--THE WAY IMMENSE FORTUNES
ARE REALIZED.--SPALDING'S GLUE.--SOURED SWILL.--SARSAPARILLA
HUMBUGS.--S. P. TOWNSEND.--"A DOWN EAST FARMER'S STORY."--"WILD
CHERRY" EXPOSITIONS.--"CAPTAIN WRAGGE'S PILL" A FAIR SAMPLE OF THE
WHOLE.--HOW PILL SALES ARE STARTED.--A SLIP OF THE PEN.--"GRIPE
PILLS."--SHAKSPEARE IMPROVED.--H. W. B. "FRUIT SYRUP."--HAIR
TONICS.--A BALD BACHELOR'S EXPERIENCE.--A LUDICROUS STORY.--A WOLF IN
SHEEP'S CLOTHING.
In the former chapters are shown some of the causes which led to the
present immense _demand_ for proprietary nostrums, or patent medicines.
The conflicting "_isms_" and "_opathies_" of the medical fraternity, their
quarrels and depreciations of one and another, their expositions of each
other's weaknesses, frauds, and duplicities, disgusted the common people,
who finally resorted to the irregulars, to astrologers, and humbugs of
various pretensions, and to the few advertised nostrums of those earlier
periods.
"While there is life there is hope," and invalids would, and still
continue to seize upon almost any promised relief from present pain and
anticipated death. Speculative and unprincipled men have seldom been
wanting, at any period, to profit by this misfortune of their
fellow-creatures, and to play upon the credulity of the afflicted, by
offering various compounds warranted to restore them to perfect health. At
first such medicines were introduced by the owner going about personally
and introducing them; subsequently, by employing equally unprincipled
parties, of either sex, to go in advance, and tell of the wonderful cures
that this particular nostrum had wrought upon them. And to listen to these
lauders, one would be led to suppose that they had been afflicted with all
the ills nameable, adapting themselves to the parties
addressed,--yesterday, the gout; to-day, consumption, etc.,--regardless of
truth or circumstance. The physician created the apothecary. The two
opened the way for the less principled patent medicine vender.
"Are not physicians and apothecaries sometimes owners of patent
medicines?" is the inquiry raised. Yes, certainly; but the true physician,
or honorable apothecary, is then sunk in the nostrum manufacturer. Next we
have the mountebanks. These were attendant upon fairs and in the
marketplaces, who, mounted upon a bench,--hence the name,--cried the
marvellous virtues of the medicine, and, by the assistance of a _decoy_ in
the crowd, often drove a lucrative business.
Finally, upon the general introduction of printing, physician, apothecary,
mountebank, speculator, all seized upon the "power of the press," to more
extensively introduce their "wonderful discoveries."
When you notice the name--and, O, ye gods, such names as are patched up to
attract your attention!--to a new medicine, systematically and extensively
advertised in every paper you chance to pick up, you wonder how any profit
can accrue to the manufacturer of the compound after paying such enormous
prices as column upon column in a thousand newspapers must necessarily
cost. "If the articles cost anything at the outset," you go on to
philosophize, "how can the manufacturers or proprietors make enough profit
to pay for this colossal advertising?" The solution of the problem is
embodied in your inquiry. They cost nothing, or as near to nothing as
possible for worthless trash to cost. This is the secret of the fortunes
made in advertised medicines.
When we _know_ the complete worthlessness of the majority of the articles
that are placed before the public,--yea, their more than worthlessness,
for they are, many of them, highly injurious to the user,--the fact of
their enormous consumption is truly astonishing. The drug-swallowing
public has grown lean and poor in proportion as the manufacturers and
venders of these villanous compounds have grown fat and wealthy.
Said the proprietor of "Coe's Cough Balsam" and "Dyspepsia Cure" to the
author, "If you have got a _good_ medicine, one of value, don't put it
before the public. I can advertise _dish water_, and sell it, just as well
as an article of merit. It is all in the advertising." As the above
preparations were advertised on every board fence, and in every newspaper
in New England at least, did his assertion imply that those articles were
mere "_dish water_"?
"SPALDING'S GLUE."
I was informed by a Mr. Johnston, who engineered the advertising of the
preparation, that it cost but one eighth of a cent per bottle. If you want
to make a liquid glue, dissolve a quantity of common glue in water at
nearly boiling point, say one pound of glue to a gallon of water; add an
ounce or less of nitric acid to hold it in solution, and bottle. The more
glue, the stronger the preparation.
The pain-killers and liniments are the most costly, on account of the
alcohol necessary to their manufacture; and, in fact, the principal item
of expense in all liquid medical articles put up for public sale, is in
the alcohol essential to their preservation against the extremes of heat
and cold to which they may be subjected.
SOURED SWILL.
There is an article which "smells to heaven," the acidiferous title of
which glares in mammoth letters from every road-side, wherein the
audacious proprietor obviates the necessity of alcohol for its preparation
or preservation. It is merely fermented slops--"dish water," minus the
alcohol. Take a few handfuls of any bitter herbs, saturate them in any
dirty pond water,--say a barrel full,--add some nitric acid, and bottle,
without straining! Here you have _Vinegared Bitters_! The cheeky
proprietor informs the "ignorant public" that, "if the _medicine_ becomes
sour (ferments), as it sometimes will, being its 'nature so to do,' it
does not detract from its medical virtues." True, true! for it never
possessed "medical virtues."
The cost of this villanous decoction is _scarcely half a cent a bottle_!
Soured swill! It is recommended to cure fifty different complaints! It
sells to fools for "one dollar a bottle," and will go through one like so
much quicksilver. "Try a bottle," if you doubt it. The "dodge" is in
advertising it as a temperance bitter. Having no alcoholic properties, it
in no wise endangers the user in becoming addicted to _stimulants_.
Sarsaparilla humbugs are only second to the above. But a few years since
an immense fortune was realized by a New York speculator in human flesh on
a "Sarsaparilla" which contained not one drop of that all but useless
medicine; nor did it possess any real medical properties whatever.
THE DOWN EAST FARMER'S STORY.
To illustrate this point, we introduce the following conversation between
the author and a "down east" farmer, in 1852:--
"It's all a humbug, is saxferilla!" exclaimed the old farmer, rapping his
fist "hard down on the old oaken table."
"Why, no; not _all_ sarsaparilla; you must admit--"
"No difference. I tell you it's a pesky humbug, all of it."
[Illustration: "IT'S ALL A HUMBUG."]
Withdrawing his tobacco pipe from his mouth, he laid it on the table, and
standing his thumb end on the board, as a "point of departure," he turned
to me, and said,--
"Why, in the medical books it has been analyzed, and they say it's nothin'
but sugar-house molasses, cheap whiskey, and a sprinkling of essence of
wintergreen and saxafras. Git the book, and see 'Townsend's Saxferilla,'
and that is the article! But they are all alike. Let me tell you about the
great New York saxferilla speculation. One man, S. P. Townsend, started a
compound like this here--nothin' but molasses and whiskey, and essence to
scent it nicely. When he had got it advertised from Texas to the Gut of
Canser (Canso, Provinces), from the Atlantic to the Specific, and was
about to make his fortune off on it, some speculators see he was doin' a
good thing, and, by zounds! they put their heads together, and their
dollars, to have a finger in the pie; and they done it. This is the way
they circumscribed him. They hired an old fellow,--I believe he was a
porter in a store when they found him,--named Jacob Townsend, and a right
rough old customer he was, all rags and dirt, hadn't but one reliable eye,
and a regular old rumsucker.
"Well, they fixed him up with a fine suit of clothes, and, by zounds! they
palmed him off for the original, Simon Pure saxferilla man. So they
advertised him as the real ginuine Townsend, and started a 'saxferilla,'
with his ugly old face on the bottles, and said that the other was
counterfeit, you see; and there he sat, with his one eye cocked on the
crowd of customers that crowded round to see the ginuine thing, you know.
So they blowed the other saxferilla as counterfeit, and finding in a store
a bottle or two that had _fomented_, they made a great noise about the
bogus saxferilla, 'busting the bottles,' and all that, and again asserting
that the Jacob Townsend was the true blue, Simon Pure; and it took, by
zounds! Yes, the public swallowed the lie, the saxferilla, old Jacob, and
all. I hearn that both the parties made a fortune on it."
Stopping to take a whiff at his neglected pipe, he resumed:--
"Saxferilla is all a humbug!"
S. P. Townsend, as is well known, amassed a fortune, at one time, on the
profits of the "sarsaparilla," put up, as the reader may remember, in
huge, square, black bottles. The Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, Vol.
XL. p. 237, says, "Townsend's Sarsaparilla, Albany, N. Y., in nearly black
bottles," is "composed of molasses, extract of roots _or_ barks (sassafras
bark is better than essence, because of body and color), and _probably_
senna and sarsaparilla. A. A. HAYES, State Assayer."
The medical properties are all a _supposition_, even though Dr. Hayes was
_hired_ to give the analysis of it to the public, in the interest of the
proprietor, and consequently he would not detract from its _supposed_
merits.
Pectorals, wild cherry preparations, etc., are cheaply made. Oil of
almonds produces the _cherry_ flavor, _hydrocyanic acid_ (prussic acid, a
virulent poison) and morphine, or opium, constitute the medical
properties. I have not examined the exception to the above.
_Pills._ The bitter and cathartic properties of nearly every pill in the
market,--advertised preparation,--whether "mandrake," "liver,"
"vegetable," or what else, are made up from aloes, the coarsest and
cheapest of all bitter cathartics. One is as good as another. You pay your
money, however; you can take your choice.
One holds the ascendency in proportion to the money or cheek invested by
the owner in its introduction. A great Philadelphia pill, now sold in all
the drug stores of America, was introduced by the following "dodge": The
owner began small. He took his pills to the druggists, and, as he could
not sell an unknown and unadvertised patent pill, he left a few boxes on
commission. He then sent round and bought them up. Their ready sale
induced the druggists to purchase again, for cash. The proprietor invested
the surplus cash in advertising their "rapid sale," as well as their "rare
virtues," and by puffing, and a little more buying up, he got them
started. He necessarily must keep them advertised, or they would become a
_drug_ in market.
Wilkie Collins, Esq., in "No Name," has the best written description of
the _modus operandi_ of keeping a "pill before the people," and I cannot
refrain from quoting Captain Wragge to Magdalen in this connection.
"My dear girl, I have been occupied, since we last saw each other, in
slightly modifying my old professional habits. I have shifted from moral
agriculture to medical agriculture. Formerly I preyed on the public
sympathy; now I prey on the public's stomach. Stomach and sympathy,
sympathy and stomach. The founders of my fortune are three in number:
their names are Aloes, Scammony, and Gamboge. In plainer words, I am now
living--on a pill! I made a little money, if you remember, by my friendly
connection with you. I made a little more by the happy decease
(_Requiescat in pace_) of that female relative of Mrs. Wragge's. Very
good! What do you think I did? I invested the whole of my capital, at one
fell swoop, in advertising a pill, and purchased my drugs and pill boxes
on credit. The result is before you. Here I am, a grand financial fact,
with my clothes positively paid for, and a balance at my banker's; with my
servant in livery, and my gig at the door; solvent, popular, and all on a
pill!"
Magdalen smiled.
"It's no laughing matter for the public, my dear; they can't get rid of me
and my pill; they must take us. There is not a single form of appeal in
the whole range of human advertisement which I am not making to the
unfortunate public at this moment. Hire the last novel--there I am inside
the covers of the book; send for the last song--the instant you open the
leaves I drop out of it; take a cab--I fly in at the windows in red; buy a
box of tooth-powders at the chemists--I wrap it up in blue; show yourself
at the theatre--I flutter down from the galleries in yellow. The mere
titles of my advertisements are quite irresistible. Let me quote a few
from last week's issue. Proverbial title: 'A pill in time saves nine.'
Familiar title: 'Excuse me, how is your stomach?' Patriotic title: 'What
are the three characteristics of a true-born Englishman?--his hearth, his
home, and his pill;' etc.
"The place in which I make my pill is an advertisement in itself. I have
one of the largest shops in London. Behind the counter, visible to the
public through the lucid medium of plate glass, are four and twenty young
men, in white aprons, making the pill. Behind another, four and twenty
making the boxes. At the bottom of the shop are three elderly accountants,
posting the vast financial transactions accruing from the pill, in three
enormous ledgers. Over the door are my name, portrait, and autograph,
expanded to colossal proportions, and surrounded, in flowing letters, the
motto of the establishment: 'DOWN WITH THE DOCTORS.' Mrs. Wragge
contributes her quota to this prodigious enterprise. She is the celebrated
woman whom I have cured of indescribable agonies, from every complaint
under the sun. Her _portrait_ is engraved on all the wrappers, with the
following inscription: 'Before she took the pill,' etc."
[In this country we are familiar with the ghostly looking picture of a
man, the said proprietor of a medicine, "before he took the pill" (aloes),
and "after;" the "after" being represented by a ridiculous extreme of
muscular and adipose tissue.]
"Captain Wragge's" is the style in which most medicines are placed before
the public. We take up our morning journal: its columns are crowded by
patent medicine advertisements. We turn in disgust from their glaring
statements, and attempt to read a news item. We get half through, and find
we are sold into reading a puff for the same trashy article. We take a
horse-car for up or down town, and opposite, in bold and variegated
letters, the persistent remedy (?) stares you continually in the face. We
enter the post office: the lobbies are employed for the exposition,
perhaps sale, of the patent medicines. We open our box: "O, we've a large
mail to-day!" we exclaim; when, lo! half of the envelopes contain patent
medicine advertisements, which have been run through the post office into
every man's box in the department. And so it goes all day. We breakfast on
aloes, dine on quassia, sup on logwood and myrrh, and sleep on morphine
and prussic acid!
"The humors of the press" sometimes inadvertently tell you the truth
respecting this or that remedy advertised in their columns.
A religious newspaper before me says of a proprietary medicine,
"Advertised in another column of our paper: It is a _hell-deserving_
article." Probably the copy read, "Well-deserving article."
Said a certain paper, "A correspondent, whose duty it was to 'read up' the
religious weeklies, has concluded that the reason of those journals
devoting so much space to patent medicine announcements is, 'that the
object of religion and quackery are similar--both prepare us for another
and better world.'"
The proprietor of a pill,--not Captain Wragge,--threatened recently to
prosecute a New Hampshire newspaper publisher for a puff of his "Gripe
Pills."
As every fool, as well as some wise people, read the "personals" in the
papers, an occasional notice of a tooth-paste, bitter, or tonic is
inserted therein, thus:--
"AUGUSTUS APOLPHUS: I will deceive you no longer. My conscience
upbraids me. Those pearly white teeth you so much admire are false!
false! They were made by Dr. Grinder, dentist. I use Dr. Scourer's
tooth-paste, which keeps them clean and white. 'O, how sharper than a
serpent's thanks it is to have a toothless child.'
SUSAN JANE."
Great and public men are sometimes induced or inveigled into recommending
a patent medicine. In London, one Joshua Ward, a drysalter, of Thames
Street, about the year 1780, introduced a pill, composed of the usual
ingredients,--aloes and senna,--which, owing to some benefit he was
supposed to have derived from their use, Lord Chief Baron Reynolds was led
to praise in the highest terms. The result of this high dignitary's
patronage was to give prominence to Ward and his pills, which subsequently
sold for the fabulous price of 2s. 6d. a pill! General Churchill added his
praise, and Ward was called as a physician to prescribe for the king.
Either in consequence, or in spite of the treatment, the royal malady
disappeared, and Ward was _re_warded with a solemn vote of the House of
Commons protecting him from the interdiction of the College of
Physicians. In addition to the liberal fee, he asked for and obtained the
privilege of driving his carriage through St. James Park! Notwithstanding
the pill, Reynolds died of his disease not long afterwards.
Henry Fielding subscribed to the wonderful efficacy of "Tar Water," a
nostrum of his day, but died of the disease for which it was recommended.
Some time prior to 1780 there was published in the newspapers a list of
the patent nostrums, or advertised remedies, in London, which numbered
upwards of two hundred.
Now there are known, in the United States alone, to be upwards of three
hundred differently named hair preparations.
Dr. Head, of whom we have made mention, "realized large sums from
worthless quack nostrums," while at the same time another popular
physician, with a Cambridge (England) diploma in his office, was
proprietor of a "gout mixture," which sold at the shops for two shillings
a bottle.
Some of these shameless scoundrels, owners of advertised nostrums, with
little or no sense of honor, have published the recommendations of great
men, without the knowledge or permission of the parties whose names were
so falsely affixed to their worthless stuff. A New York quack recently
used the name of Henry Ward Beecher in this manner. Mr. Beecher published
him as a thief and forger of his name, which only served to bring the
doctor (?) into universal notice. Only to-day I read his impudent
advertisement in a newspaper, with Mr. Beecher's name affixed as
reference. If you prosecute one of the villains for issuing false
certificates, even for forging your own name, it does him no great injury,
you get no satisfaction, and in the end it only serves to call public
attention to a worthless article, thereby increasing its sale.
In the London _Medical Journal_ of 1806, Dr. Lettsom attacked and exposed
a "nervous cordial," stating that it was a deleterious article; "that it
had killed its thousands;" and further asserted that Brodum, its
proprietor, was a Jewish knave, having been a bootblack in Copenhagen, and
a wholesale murderer. Brodum at once brought an action against the
proprietor of the _Journal_, laying the damages at twenty-five thousand
dollars. Brodum held the advantage, and the _Journal_ proprietor asked for
terms of settlement. Brodum's terms were not modest. He, through his
attorney, agreed to withdraw the action provided the name of the author
was revealed, and that he should whitewash the quack in the next number of
the _Journal_, over the same signature! Dr. Lettsom consented to these
terms, paid the lawyers' bills and costs, amounting to three hundred and
ninety pounds, and wrote the required puff of Brodum and his nostrum.
SOOTHING SYRUPS, nervous cordials, etc., owe their soothing properties to
opium, or its salt--morphine.
From "OPIUM AND THE OPIUM APPETITE," by Alonzo Calkins, M. D., we are
informed that an article sold as "Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup," for
children teething, contains nearly _one grain of the alkaloid_ (morphine)
_to each ounce of the syrup_! Taking one teaspoonful as the dose (that is,
one drachm), and there being eight drachms to the ounce, consequently
about one eighth of a grain of morphine is given to an infant at a dose!
Do you wonder it gives him a _quietus_? Do you wonder that the mortality
among children is greatly on the increase? that so many of the darling,
helpless little innocents die from dropsy, brain fever, epileptic fits,
and the like?
FRUIT SYRUPS FOR SODA WATER.
Perhaps you take yours "plain." No! Then you may want to know how the pure
fruit syrup, which sweetens and flavors the soda, is made. The "soda"
itself is a very harmless article.
BUTYRIC ETHER is usually taken for a basis. Butyric ether is manufactured
from rancid butter, old rotten cheese, or Limburger cheese. The latter is
the "loudest," and affords the best flavor to the ether. The cheese is
treated with sulphuric acid. Old leather is known to give it a
particularly fine flavor. Any old boots and shoes will answer.
PINEAPPLE SYRUP is made from butyric and formic ether. The latter is
manufactured from soap or glycerine. Sulphuric acid and red ants will do
as well.
STRAWBERRY is made of twelve parts of butyric ether and one of acetic
ether, alcohol, and water. Color with cochineal--a bug of the tick
species, from Mexico. Sometimes a little real strawberry is added, but it
is not deemed essential.
RASPBERRY is made from the same articles. If convenient, the druggist adds
a little raspberry jam or syrup. If not, color a little deeper, add some
strawberry, and change the label to raspberry.
VANILLA SYRUP is made of Tonqua beans, such as boys sell on the street.
PEACH is made from bitter almonds. WILD CHERRY the same.
NECTAR is formed by a compound of various syrups and Madeira wine. You can
easily make the Madeira of neutral spirits, sugar, raisins, and logwood to
color it.
SARSAPARILLA. Take the cheapest and nastiest molasses obtainable. Strain
it to remove dead bees, sticks, cockroaches, etc. Flavor with essence
sassafras and wintergreen. Little extract sarsaparilla will do no harm if
added to the mixture. It is very harmless.
LEMON is made of citric acid and sugar.
COFFEE is made mostly of chiccory, burnt livers, sometimes a little coffee
bean. Horses' livers are said to be the best, giving it a _racy_ flavor,
and more _body_.
"They are all very good," the vender tells you; he takes his plain,
however. You see how much cheaper these are than the _real_ fruit syrup
itself; and as neither you nor I can tell the difference by _taste_, what
inducement has the dealer in soda water to use the costlier articles?
I have a friend who sells the "pure syrups," and I presume the reader has
also; but I respectfully decline drinking soda water with "pure fruit
syrups."
POISONOUS HAIR TONICS AND COSMETICS.
Extract from the report of Professor C. F. Chandler, Ph. D., chemist
to the Metropolitan Board of Health. This report, which presents the
results of the examination of a few of the articles in general use,
was printed in full in the Chemical News (American reprint) for May,
1870. We present the following list of dangerous preparations, which
gives the number of grains of lead, etc., in one fluid ounce.
I. HAIR TONICS, WASHES, AND RESTORATIVES.
Grains of lead in
one fluid ounce.
1. Clark's Distilled Restorative for the Hair, 0.11
2. Chevalier's Life for the Hair, 1.02
3. Circassian Hair Rejuvenator, 2.71
4. Ayer's Hair Vigor, 2.89
5. Professor Wood's Hair Restorative, 3.08
6. Dr. J. J. O'Brien's Hair Restorer, America, 3.28
7. Gray's Celebrated Hair Restorative, 3.39
8. Phalon's Vitalia, 4.69
9. Ring's Vegetable Ambrosia, 5.00
10. Mrs. S. A. Allen's World's Hair Restorer, 5.57
11. L. Knittel's Indian Hair Tonique, 6.29
12. Hall's Vegetable Sicilian Hair Renewer, 7.13
13. Dr. Tebbet's Physiological Hair Regenerator, 7.44
14. Martha Washington Hair Restorative, 9.80
15. Singer's Hair Restorative, 16.39
II. LOTIONS OR WASHES FOR THE COMPLEXION.
_Perry's Moth and Freckle Lotion._
Mercury in solution, 2.67 gr. }equiv.{ Corrosive Sub., 3.61 gr.
Zinc in solution, 0.99 " } to { Sulphate of Zinc, 4.25 "
The sediment contains mercury, lead, and bismuth.
III. ENAMELS FOR THE SKIN.
Grains of lead in one fluid
ounce, after shaking.
Eugenie's Favorite, 108.94 grains.
Phalon's Snow-white Enamel, 146.28 "
Phalon's Snow-white Oriental Cream, 190.99 "
CONCLUSION.--It appears from the foregoing,--
1. The HAIR TONICS, WASHES, and RESTORATIVES contain lead in
considerable quantities; that they owe their action to this metal, and
that they are consequently highly dangerous to the health of persons
using them.
2. With a single exception, Perry's Moth and Freckle Lotion, the
LOTIONS for the skin are free from lead and other injurious metals.
3. That the ENAMELS are composed of either carbonate of lime, oxide of
zinc, or carbonate of lead, suspended in water. The first two classes
of enamels are comparatively harmless; as harmless as any other white
dirt, when plastered over the skin to close the pores and prevent its
healthy action. On the other hand, the enamels composed of carbonate
of lead are highly dangerous, and their use is very certain to produce
disastrous results to those who patronize them.
HAIR RESTORATIVES: A BALD BACHELOR'S EXPERIENCE.
A gentleman of perhaps thirty-five years of age once called upon the
writer for advice relative to baldness, when he related the following
experience, permitting me to make a note of it at leisure.
"In 1865 my friends intimated to me that my hair was getting slightly thin
on the crown of my head. I have always had a mortal terror of being bald,
and daily examinations convinced me that my fears were about to be
realized. My first inquiry was for a remedy.
"'What shall I do to prevent its falling out?' I nervously inquired.
"'Get a bottle of Dr. ----'s Hair Restorative,' one advised; another, some
different preparation,--all advertised remedies,--till I had a list a yard
long of various washes, preventives, restorers, etc., _ad infinitum_.
"I obtained one of _the very best_. I used it as directed. It _stuck_ as
though its virtue consisted in sticking the loose hairs firmly to the
firmer-rooted ones. But alas! after a month's trial, sufficient hair had
come out of my head to make a respectable _chignon_!
"I next got some of Mrs. A. S. S. Allon's--or All--something; I forget the
rest of the name; I'm sure of the A. S. S., however,--and that was worse
than the _gum-stick-'em_ kind, for the hair came out faster than before.
"In despair, I applied to a 'respectable apothecary,' who keeps the next
corner drug store. 'For God's sake, Mr. Bilious, have you got any good
preventive for falling of the hair?' I exclaimed.
"'O, yes, just the article,' he replied, rubbing his palms vigorously. He
then showed me his stock, consisting of _thirty-nine different kinds_!
"'All very good--highly recommended,' he remarked, with commendable
impartiality.
"I selected one--with rather an ominous name, I
admit:--_Kat-hair-on_!--preferring cat's hair to none.
"I used the Kathairon according to directions."
"'Did the cat's hair grow?' I anxiously inquired.
"'Neither cat's hair nor human hair.' No. Worse and worse. I was about to
abandon all effort, when, stopping on a corner to get a young boot-black
to shine my boots, preparatory to making a call on a lady acquaintance,
before whom I was desirous of making a genteel appearance, a dirty, ragged
little urchin peered around the block, and exclaimed, 'O, mister, you're
barefooted on top o' yer head!' I had inadvertently removed my hat, to
wipe my forehead.
[Illustration: "BAREFOOTED ON THE TOP OF HIS HEAD."]
"This was the last feather. Though coming from but a dirty boot-black, it
stung me to the marrow. I kicked over the boy, box, blacking, and all, and
rushed into the nearest drug shop. I bought another new hair preparation.
Another ominous name--'_Bare-it_!'
"This I also used, as directed on the label, for a month. 'I think,' I
said, 'if I use it a second month, it will entirely _bare it_!'
"I bought a wig, and had my head shaved. I didn't lock myself up in a
coal-cellar, or hide under a tub, like Diogenes, but I felt that I would
have gladly done either, to hide myself from the eyes of the world. The
girls all cast shy glances at me as they passed; as though the majority of
_them_ did not wear false hair!
"In utter desperation, I visited a dermatologist. What a name to make hair
grow! Well, he examined my scalp with a microscope, and said the hair
could be made to grow anew. 'I discover myriads of germs, which only
require the right treatment in order to spring up in an exuberant crop of
wavy tresses.' I bought his preparations. Bill, thirty-eight dollars. They
were worthless.
"Soon after this failure, I heard of a new remedy--'a sure cure.' The
proprietor possessed a world-wide reputation, from the manufacture of
various other remedies for nearly all diseases to which we poor mortals
are subject, and there might be something in this. It was recommended to
cure baldness, and restore gray hair to its natural color. I would go and
see the proprietor of this excellent hair restorer. I hastened to Lowell.
I was ushered into the doctor's sanctum--into the very presence of this
Napoleon of medicine-makers, the Alexander of conquered worlds--of medical
prejudices!
"With hat in hand, I bowed low to the great Doctor Hair--or hair doctor.
He beheld my veneration for himself. With a practised eye, he noted my
genteel apparel. Flattered by my obeisance, and not to be outdone in
politeness, he arose, removed his tile, and bowed equally low in return to
my profound salutation, when lo! _O tempora! O mores!_ he was both bald
and gray! I retired without specifying the object of my visit."
A WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING.
When a man tells you, point blank, that he is selling an article for the
profit of it, believe him; but when he asserts that he is advertising and
offering a remedy solely for the public good, for the benefit of suffering
humanity, he is a liar. Beware of such.
Furthermore, when he publishes an advertisement in every paper in the
land, announcing that himself having been miraculously or "providentially"
cured of a _variety_ of diseases by a certain compound, the _prescription_
for which he will send free to any address, you should hesitate, until
satisfied of the disinterestedness of the party, and meantime ask yourself
the following question: "Provided this be true, why don't the unparalleled
benevolent gentleman _publish the recipe_, which would cost so much less
than this persistent advertising 'that he will send it to any requiring
it'? And you are next led to ask,--
"Where is the 'dodge'? For money is what he is after."
A reverend (?), a scoundrel, a "wolf in sheep's clothing," advertises in
nearly every paper you chance to notice, especially _religious_
newspapers, a remedy he discovered while a missionary to some foreign
country, that cured him of a _variety_ of diseases, the recipe for which
medicine he will send to any address, _free of charge_.
"Here is the '_Old Sands of Life_' dodge," I said, "which I had the
satisfaction of exposing fourteen years ago."
The reader may recollect the advertisement of "A Retired Physician,
seventy-five years of age, whose sands of life had nearly run out," who
advertised so extensively a remedy which cured his daughter, etc., which
remedy he would send _free_, to the afflicted, on application.
I investigated his "little fraud." I found, instead of an old man
"seventy-five years of age," a young man of about twenty-eight or thirty.
He was no reverend. He had no daughter. He was a tall, gaunt, profane,
tobacco-chewing, foul-mouthed fellow, with a bad impediment in his speech
from loss of palate, whose name _was_ Oliver Phipps Brown, a printer by
trade, who formerly worked as journeyman in the _Courant_ office,
Hartford, Conn. The police finally got hold of him, and broke up the
swindle.
[Illustration: OLD "SANDS OF LIFE."]
Here is now a parallel case. The above _reverend_ says he will send the
recipe free. I directed my student to write for it. The recipe came, with
various articles named therein, supposed to be the Latin names of plants.
I assert that there are no such medicines in the Materia Medica, or the
world. The _reverend_ don't want that there should be. Why? Because you
would not then send to him for his "Compound."
He sends with his recipe a circular, in which he gives you the history of
_his marvellous discovery_. Further along, by some oversight, he says it
was made known to him through a physician!
The names are bogus. The whole remedy is a humbug. There are names in it
as _species_ which sound something like some medical term; and the
druggist may be deceived thereby. The reverend quack, foreseeing "the
difficulty in obtaining the articles in their purity at any druggist's,"
advises you to send to him for them. Do you begin to see the _dodge_? He
"will furnish it at _cost_." Only think! How benevolent! "My means make
me independent." Think again. An invalid from boyhood, his time and means
exhausted in travelling "in Europe two years," and was only "sent a
missionary (?) through the kindness of friends," he assures us in his
circular. Here he _discovered through an old physician_--surely a new mode
of discovery--this wonderful compound, which cured him in "six weeks," and
forthwith, in gratitude, he proceeded to New York, and began putting up
this marvellous remedy "_at cost_."
Let us examine the article sold for three dollars and a half a small
package. Dr. Hall, of the "Journal of Health," examined the article which
"Old Sands of Life" sold as _Canabis Indica_, and found the cost "_but
sixteen cents, bottle and all_." Nevertheless, "The Retired Physician"
sold it to his dupes for two dollars. I do not hesitate to say that the
above compound cost even _less than sixteen cents a package_.
"But," said a gentleman to me, "he is connected with the Bible House. Here
is his address: 'Station D, Bible House, New York.'"
"There is a post-station by that name. Suppose I should give an address,
'34 Museum Building.' Would that imply that I was a play-actor, or owner
of the Museum?" I replied.
"Then it is only another 'Reverend' dodge--is it?" he asked.
"Precisely; it is to give character to his characterless address."
"Don't the newspaper publishers know it is a swindle?" he suggested.
"There's not the least doubt that they know it."
"Then hereafter I shall have little faith in the religion or honesty of
the newspaper that publishes such swindling advertisements."
"Admitting that they know the dishonesty of the thing,--and how can any
man endowed with common sense but see that there is _swindle_ on the face
of it?--the publisher of that advertisement is a _particeps criminis_ in
the transaction."
"Why don't some of the thousand victims who have been swindled into buying
this worthless stuff expose him?"
"In exposing the _reverend wolf_, don't you see they would expose their
own weakness? This is the reason of the fellow's selecting the peculiar
class of diseases as curable by his great discovery. The poor sufferer
does not wish the community to know that he is afflicted by such a
disease."
"It is truly a great dodge; and no doubt the knave has found fools enough
to make him '_independent_.'"
* * * * *
RULES. 1. Take no patent or advertised medicines at all. They are of no
earthly use! You never require them, as they are not conducive to your
health, happiness, or longevity.
There are physicians who can cure every disease that flesh is heir
to--_excepting one_.
2. Apply in your need only to a respectable physician.
3. Give your preference to such as administer the smallest quantities of
medicine--_and are successful in their practice_.
* * * * *
I have barely begun to exhaust the material I have been years collecting
for this chapter; but I must desist, to give room for other important
expositions.
[Illustration]
IV.
MANUFACTURED DOCTORS.
"One says, 'I'm not of any school;
No living master gives me rule;
Nor do I in the old tracks tread;
I scorn to learn aught from the dead.'
Which means, if I am not mistook,
'I am an ass on my own hook.'"
A BOSTON BARBER AS M. D.--A BARBER "GONE TO POT."--FOOLS MADE
DOCTORS.--BAKERS.--BARBERS.--"A LUCKY DOG."--TINKERS.--ROYAL
FAVORS.--"LITTLE CARVER DAVY."--A BUTCHER'S BLOCKHEAD.--A SWEEPING
VISIT.--HOP-PED FROM OBSCURITY.--PEDAGOGUES TURN
DOCTORS.--ARBUTHNOT.--"A QUAKER."--"WALKS OFF ON HIS EAR."--WEAVERS
AND BASKET-MAKERS.--A TOUGH PRINCE; REQUIRED THREE M. D.'S TO KILL
HIM.--MARAT A HORSE DOCTOR.--A MERRY PARSON.--BLACK MAIL.--POLICE AS A
MIDWIFE, ETC., ETC.
"Every man is either a physician or a fool at forty," says the old
proverb.
"May not a man be both?" suggested Canning, in the presence of a circle of
friends, before whom Sir Henry Halford happened to quote the old saying.
"There is generally a fool in every family, whom the parents select at
once for a priest or a physician," said Peter Pindar. He was good
authority.
I am of the opinion that there are many whose mental capacity has been
overrated, who have made doctors of themselves; but we are not to treat of
fools in this chapter, but of men whom _circumstances_ have created
physicians, and of men who, in spite of circumstances of birth or
education, have made themselves doctors.
In the choice of a trade or profession, every young man should weigh
carefully his natural capacity to the pursuit selected. His parents or
guardians should consult the youth's adaptability rather than their own
convenience. How many have dragged out a miserable existence by ill choice
of a calling! Men who were destined by nature to be wood-sawyers and
diggers of trenches, are found daily taking upon themselves the immense
responsibility of teaching those whose mental calibre is far above their
own, or assuming the greater responsibility of administering to the
afflicted.
If a man finds himself adapted to a higher calling than that originally
selected for him by his friends, by all means let him "come up higher;"
but too many by far have changed from a trade to a profession to which
they had no adaptability.
So we find men in the medical profession who were better as they
were,--bakers, barbers, butchers, tailors, tinkers, pedagogues, cobblers,
horse doctors, etc., etc.
There used to be a fish-peddler going about Boston, blowing a fish-horn,
and crying his "fresh cod an' haddock," who, getting tired of that loud
crying and loud smelling occupation, took to blowing his horn for his
"wonderful discovery" of a "pasture weed," which cured every humor but a
thundering humor (one can see the humor of the joke), and every eruption
since the eruption of Hecla in 1783,--which is a pity that he had not made
his discovery in time to have tried it on old Hecla's back when it was up.
BARBERS AS DOCTORS.
A barber of Boston, accidentally overhearing a gentleman mention a certain
remedy for the "barber's itch," seized upon the idea of speculating upon
it, and at once sold out his shop, made up the ointment, clapped M. D. to
his name, put out his circulars, and is now seeking whom he may devour, as
a physician.
With the looseness of morals and the laxity of our laws, one of these
fellows "can make a doctor as quick as a tinker can make a tin kettle."
Probably more barbers have become doctors than any other artisans, for the
reason that barbers were formerly nearly the only acknowledged
"blood-letters." In the earlier days of Abernethy, barber surgeons were
recognized, and the great doctor said of himself, "I have often doffed my
hat to those fellows, with a razor between their teeth and a lancet in
their hands." Doubtless some of them arrived to usefulness in the
profession. Dr. Ambrose Paré, a French barber surgeon, was called the
father of French surgery, and enjoyed the confidence of Charles IX. An
eminent surgeon of London was Mr. Pott. He was contemporary with Dr.
Hunter, and gave lectures at St. Bartholomew Hospital in Hunter's
presence. Some person asking a wag one day where Dr. Hunter was, he
replied that, "with barber surgeons he _had gone to pot_."
This alliance of surgery and shaving, to say nothing of other
qualifications with which they were sometimes associated, conceivably
enough furnished some pretext for apprenticeships, since Dickey Gossip's
definition of
"Shaving and tooth-drawing,
Bleeding, cabbaging, and sawing,"
was by no means always sufficiently comprehensive to include the
multifarious accomplishments of "the doctor." "I have seen," says Dr.
Macillwain, of England, "within twenty-five years, chemist, druggist,
surgeon, apothecary, and the significant, '&c.,' followed by hatter,
hosier, and linen draper, all in one establishment."
I saw in New Hampshire, in 1864, doctor, barber, and apothecary
represented by one man.
William Butts, another barber surgeon of London, was called to attend
Henry VIII., and was rewarded for his professional services with the
honor of knighthood in 1512. Another, who was knighted by Henry VIII., was
John Ayliffe, a sheriff, formerly a merchant of Blackwell Hall.
Royalty had a chronic habit of knighting quacks. Queen Anne became so
charmed by a tailor, who had turned doctor, and who, by some hook or
crook, was called to prescribe for the queen's weak eyes, that she had him
sworn in, with another knave, as her own oculist. "This lucky gentleman,"
says a reliable author, "was William Reade, a botching tailor of Grub
Street, London. To the very last he was a great ignoramus, as a work
entitled 'A Short and Exact Account of all Diseases Incident to the Eyes,'
attests; yet he rose to knighthood, and the most lucrative and fashionable
practice of the period." Reade (_Sir William_) was unable to read the book
he had published (written by an _amanuensis_); nevertheless, aristocracy,
and wise and worthy people at that, who listened to his dignified voice,
viewed his pompous person, encased in rich garments, and adorned with
jewelry and lace ruffles, _cap-a-pie_, resting his chin upon his enormous
gold-headed cane, as, reclining in his splendid coach, drawn by a span of
superb blood horses, up to St. James, considered him the most learned and
eminent physician of that generation.
In the British Museum is deposited a copy of a poem to the great oculist.
This poem Reade himself had written, at the hand of a penny-a-liner, a
"poet of Grub Street," immediately after he was knighted, which has been
mainly instrumental in handing his name down to posterity.
TINKER AS DOCTOR.
About the year 1705, one Roger Grant rose into public notice in London, by
his publication of his own "marvellous cures." This fellow was no fool,
though a great knave. He was formerly a travelling tinker, subsequently a
cobbler, and Anabaptist preacher. From tinkering of pots, he became
mender of soles of men's boots and shoes; thence saver of souls from
perdition, a tinkerer of sore eyes, and lightener of the body. The
following bit of poetry was written in 1708 for his benefit, the "picture"
being one which Grant, who was a very vain man, had gotten up from a
copperplate likeness of himself, to distribute among his friends. The
picture was found posted up conspicuously with the lines:--
"A tinker first, his scene of life began;
That failing, he set up for a cunning man;
But, wanting luck, puts on a new disguise,
And now pretends that he can cure your eyes.
But this expect, that, like a tinker true,
Where he repairs one eye, he puts out two."
[Illustration: THE EYE DOCTOR.]
He worked himself into notoriety by the publication, in pamphlet form, of
his cures,--a mixture of truth strongly spiced with falsehood,--and
scattering it over the community. "His plan was to get hold of some poor,
ignorant person, of imperfect vision, and, after treating him with
medicine and half-crowns for a few weeks, induce him to sign a
testimonial, which he probably had never read, that he was born blind, and
by the providential intervention of Dr. Grant, he had been entirely
restored. To this certificate the clergyman and church-wardens of the
parish, in which the patient had been known to wander in mendicancy, were
asked to attest; and if they proved impregnable to the cunning
representations of the importunate solicitors, and declined to sign the
certificate, the doctor did not scruple to save them that trouble by
signing their names himself."
More than once was the charge of being a tinker preferred against him. The
following satire was written and published for his benefit--with Dr.
Reade's--after Queen Anne had Dr. Grant sworn in as her "oculist in
ordinary":--
"Her majesty sure was in a surprise,
Or else was very short-sighted,
When a tinker was sworn to look to her eyes,
And the mountebank Reade was knighted."
"THE LITTLE CARVER DAVY."
The distinguished chemical philosopher and physician of Penzance, Sir
Humphry Davy, Bart., was the son of a poor wood-carver, at which trade
Humphry worked in his earlier days, and was named by his familiar
associates, the "Little Carver Davy." On the death of his father, the
widow established herself as a milliner at Penzance, where she apprenticed
her son to an apothecary. His mother was a woman of talent and great moral
sense. When, as Sir Humphry, he had reached the summit of his fame, he
looked back upon the facts of his humble origin, his father's plebeian
occupation and associates, and his mother's mean pursuit, followed for his
benefit, with mortification instead of regarding them as sources of
pride.
A BUTCHER BOY ESCAPES THE CLEAVER AND BECOMES A GREAT PHYSICIAN AND POET.
In a rickety old three story house, the lower part of which was occupied
as a butcher's shop and trader's room, and the upper stories as a
dwelling-house, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, in 1721, was born Mark Akenside.
His father was a butcher, and one day, as the boy Mark was assisting at
the menial occupation of cutting up a calf, a cleaver fell from the shop
block upon another "calf,"--that of young Akenside's leg,--which lamed him
for life.
[Illustration: THE YOUNG SURGEON'S FIRST EXPERIENCE.]
Akenside was a Nonconformist, and by the aid of the Dissenters' Society
young Mark was sent to Edinburgh to study theology. From theology he went
to physic, his honest parent refunding the money to the society paid for
his studies under their patronage, and he subsequently obtained his degree
at Cambridge, and became a fellow of the R. S.
Like Davy, Akenside became ashamed of his plebeian origin. His lameness,
like Lord Byron's, was a continual source of mortification to him.
He became a physician to St. Thomas; and, as he went with the students the
rounds of the hospital, the fastidiousness of the little bunch of dignity
at having come so closely in contact with the vulgar rabble, induced him,
at times, to make the strongest patients precede him with _brooms_, to
clear a way for him through the crowd of diseased wretches, who,
nevertheless, had wonderful faith in his wisdom, and would cry out,
"_Bravo for the butcher boy with a game leg!_" as they fell back before
the fearful charge of corn brooms.
By the assistance of friends, and his ever extensive practice, Akenside
was enabled, to the day of his death, in 1770, to keep his carriage, wear
his gold-hilted sword, and his huge well-powdered wig.
HOW ONE HOP-PED FROM OBSCURITY.
"Dr. Messenger Monsey, in the heyday of his prosperity, used to assert to
his friends that the first of his known ancestors was a baker and a
retailer of hops. At a critical point of this worthy man's career, when
hops were 'down,' and feathers 'up,' in order to raise the needful for
present emergencies he ripped up his beds, sold the feathers, and refilled
the ticks with hops. When a change occurred in the market soon afterwards
the process was reversed; even the children's beds were reopened, and the
hops sold for a large profit over the cost of replacing the feathers!"
"That's the way, sirs, that my family hop-ped from obscurity," the doctor
would conclude, with great gusto.
The Duke of Leeds used, in the same manner, to delight in boasting of his
lucky progenitor, Jack Osborn, the shop lad, who rescued his master's
beautiful daughter from a watery grave at the bottom of the Thames, and
won her hand away from a score of noble suitors, who wanted, literally,
the young lady's _pin_-money as much as herself. Her father was a pin
manufacturer, and had in his shop on London Bridge amassed a considerable
wealth in the business. The jolly old man, instead of disdaining to
bestow the lovely and wealthy maid--his only child--on an apprentice,
exclaimed,--
"Jack Osborn won her, and Jack shall wear her."
When Lord Bath vainly endeavored to effect a reconciliation between the
doctor and Garrick, who had fallen out, Monsey said,--
"Why will your lordship trouble yourself with the squabbles of a
merry-andrew and a _quack_ doctor?"
Monsey continued his quarrel with Garrick up to the day of the death of
the great tragedian. The latter seldom retaliated, but when he did his
sarcasm cut to the bone.
Garrick's style of satire may be inferred from his epigram on James Quin,
the celebrated actor, and illegitimate son of an Irishman, "whose wife
turned out a bigamist." When Garrick make his debut on the London stage,
at Godman's Fields playhouse, October 19, 1741, as "Richard the Third,"
Quin objected to Garrick's original style, saying,--
"If this young fellow is right, myself and all the other actors are
wrong."
Being told that the theatre was crowded to the dome nightly to hear the
new actor, Quin replied that "Garrick was a new religion; Whitefield was
followed for a time, but they would all come to church again." Hence
Garrick wrote the following epigram:--
"Pope Quin, who damns all churches but his own,
Complains that heresy infects the town;
That Whitefield-Garrick has misled the age,
And taints the sound religion of the stage.
'Schism,' he cries, 'has turned the nation's brain,
But eyes will open, and to church again!'
Thou great Infallible, forbear to roar;
Thy bulls and errors are revered no more.
When doctrines meet with general approbation,
It is not _heresy_, but reformation."
When confined to his bed in his last sickness, Garrick had the advice of
several of the best physicians, summoned to his villa near Hampton, and
Monsey, in bad taste and worse temper, wrote a satire on the occurrence.
He accused the actor of parsimony, among other mean qualities, and though,
after the death of Garrick, January 22, 1779, he destroyed the verses,
some portions of them got into print, of which the following is a
sample:--
"Seven wise doctors lately met
To save a wretched sinner.
'Come, Tom,' said Jack, 'pray let's be quick,
Or we shall lose _our_ dinner.'
"Some roared for rhubarb, jalap some,
And others cried for Dover;[3]
'Let's give him something,' each one said,
'And then let's give him over.'"
At last, after much learned wrangling, one more learned than the others
proposed to arouse the energies of the dying man by jingling a purse of
gold in his ear. This suggestion was acted upon, and
"Soon as the favorite sound he heard,
One faint effort he tried;
He oped his eyes, he scratched his head,
He gave one grasp--and died."
Riding on horseback through Hyde Park, Monsey was accompanied by a Mr.
Robinson, a Trinitarian preacher, who knew that the doctor's religion was
of the Unitarian stamp. After deploring, in solemn tones, the corrupt
state of morals, etc., the minister turned to Monsey, and said,--
"And, doctor, I am addressing one who believes there is no God."
"And I," replied Monsey, "one who believes there are _three_."
[Illustration: HEALING THE SICK WITH A GOLDEN DOSE.]
The good man, greatly shocked, put spurs to his horse, and, without
vouchsafing a "good day," rode away at a high gallop.
PEDAGOGUES TURNED OUT AS DOCTORS.
Some of the hundreds of respectable medical practitioners of this
democratic country, who, between commencement and the following term, used
to lengthen out their scanty means by "teaching the young idea how to
shoot" in some far-off country village, will scarcely thank me for
introducing the above-named subject to their present notice. However, it
will depend somewhat upon the way they take it; whether, like Sir Davy,
they are ashamed of their "small beginnings," or, like Dr. Monsey, they
may independently snap their fingers in the face of their plebeian origin,
and boast of their earlier common efforts for a better foothold among the
great men of their generation.
Among English physicians, with whom it was, and still is, counted a
disgrace to have been previously known in a more humble calling, we may
find a long list of "doctors pedagogic," beginning with Dr. John Bond, who
taught school until the age of forty, when he turned doctor. He was a man
of great learning, however, and became a successful physician. Even among
the good people of Taunton, where he had resided and labored as a
pedagogue in former years, he was esteemed as a "wise physician."
John Arbuthnot was a "Scotch pedagogue." He was distinguished as a man of
letters and of wit; the associate of Pope and Swift, and of Bolingbroke; a
companion at the court of Queen Anne.
Arbuthnot owed his social elevation to his quick wit, rare conversational
powers, and fascinating address, rather than to his family influence,
professional knowledge, or medical success.
"Dorchester, where, as a young practitioner, he endeavored to establish
himself, utterly refused to give him a living; but it doubtless," says
Jeaffreson, "maintained more than one dull empiric in opulence. Failing to
get a living among the rustic boors, who could appreciate no effort of the
human voice but a fox-hunter's whoop, Arbuthnot packed up and went to
London."
Poverty for a while haunted his door in London, and to keep the wolf away
he was compelled to resort to "the most hateful of all occupations--the
personal instruction of the ignorant."
Arbuthnot was a brilliant writer as well as fluent talker, and by his
literary hit, "Examination of Dr. Woodward's Account of the Deluge," he
was soon brought into notice. By the merest accident and the greatest
fortune he was called to Prince George of Denmark, when his royal highness
was suddenly taken sick, and, as all who fell within the circle of his
magical private acquaintance were led to respect and love him, the doctor
was retained in the good graces of the prince. On the death of Dr. Hannes,
Arbuthnot received the appointment of physician-in-ordinary to the queen.
The polished manner of the fortunate doctor, his handsome person, and
flattering, cordial seeming address, especially to ladies, made him a
court favorite. To retain the good graces of his royal patient, the queen,
"he adopted a tone of affection for her as an individual, as well as a
loyal devotion to her as a queen." His conversation, while it had the
semblance of the utmost frankness, was foaming over with flattery.
"If the queen won't swallow my pills she will my flattery," he is said to
have whispered to his friend Swift; but this report is doubtful, as he
stood in fear of the displeasure of the querulous, crotchety, weak-minded
queen, who had but recently discharged Dr. Radcliffe for a slip of the
tongue, when at the coffee-house he had said she had the "_vapors_."
"What is the hour?" asked the queen of Arbuthnot.
"Whatever hour it may please your majesty," was his characteristic reply,
with his most winning smile and graceful obeisance.
By this sort of flattery he retained his hold in the queen's favor till
her death.
By these facts one is reminded of the saying of Oxenstierna, when, on
concluding the peace of Westphalia in 1648, he sent his young son John as
plenipotentiary to the powers on that occasion, remarking, in presence of
those who expressed their surprise thereat,--
"You do not know with how little wisdom men are governed."
With the loss of the queen's patronage at her death, and his wine-loving
proclivities, Dr. Arbuthnot became sick and poor, and died in straitened
circumstances.
ANOTHER POOR PEDAGOGUE,
Who reached the acme of medical fame, and became court physician, was Sir
Richard Blackmer. He surely ought not to have been called an ignoramus (by
Dr. Johnson), for he resided thirteen years in the University of Oxford.
After leaving Oxford, his extreme poverty compelled him to adopt the
profession of a schoolmaster. In the year 1700 there were collected
upwards of forty sets of ribald verses, under the title of "Commendary
Verses, or the Author of Two Arthurs, and Satyr against Wit;" in which Sir
Richard was taunted with his earlier poverty, and of having been a
pedagogue!
Every man has his advertisement and his advertisers. The poets and
lampooners were Blackmer's. They assisted in bringing him into notoriety.
Among them were Pope, Steele, and the obscene Dr. Garth. While the authors
of those filthy, licentious productions (which no bar-maid or
kitchen-scullion at this day could read without blushing behind her pots
and kettles) were flattering themselves that they were injuring the
honest doctor, they were bringing him daily into the notice of better men
than themselves, and heaping ignominy upon the authors of such vile
lampoons.
One satire opened thus:--
"By nature meant, by want a pedant made,
Blackmer at first professed the whipping trade.
* * * * *
In vain his pills as well as birch he tried;
His boys grew blockheads, and his patients died."
Mr. Jeaffreson says, "the same dull sarcasms about killing patients and
whipping boys into blockheads are repeated over and again; and as if to
show, with the greatest possible force, the pitch to which the evil of the
times had risen, the coarsest and most disgusting of all these lampoon
writers was a lady of rank,--the Countess of Sandwich!"
Wouldn't a young Harvard or Yale medical graduate, without money, friends,
or a practice, leap for joy with the knowledge that he had two-score
_disinterested_ writers advertising him into universal notice, since it is
considered a burning disgrace for an honorable, upright, and educated
physician to advertise himself!
Of course Sir Richard rose, in spite of his foes, to whom he seldom
replied. He says, in one of his own works, "I am but a hard-working
doctor, spending my days in coffee-houses (where physicians were wont to
receive apothecaries, and, hearing the cases of their patients, prescribe
for them without seeing them, at half price), receiving apothecaries, or
driving over the stones in my carriage, visiting my patients."
The honest, upright man who rises from nothing, and continues to ascend
right in the teeth of immense opposition from his enemies, seldom relapses
into obscurity in after life. Though Dr. Blackmer failed as a poet, he
died esteemed as an honest man, a consistent Christian, and an excellent
physician.
A WEAVER AND A QUAKER BOY.
Many cases might be instanced of weavers becoming physicians, but let one
suffice. John Sutcliffe, a Yorkshire weaver, with no early educational
advantages, and with the broadest provincial dialect, became a respectable
apothecary, and subsequently a first-class medical practitioner. He rose
entirely by his own integrity, frugality, industry, and intelligence.
Amongst his apprentices was Dr. John Coakley Lettsom, whose name must ever
rank high as a literary man, and a benevolent and successful physician.
Lettsom was born in the West Indies, and was a Quaker. The place under the
Yorkshire apothecary was secured for the boy by Mr. Fothergill, a Quaker
minister of Warrington, England.
A senior drug clerk informed the rustic inhabitants of the arrival of a
Quaker from a far off county, where the people were _antipodes_,--whose
feet were in a position exactly opposite to those of the English. Having
well circulated this startling information, the merry clerk and
fellow-apprentices laid back to enjoy the joke all by themselves.
The very day the new apprentice entered upon his duties, the apothecary
shop became haunted by an immense and curious crowd of gaping rustics, old
and young, male and female, to see the wonderful Quaker who was accustomed
to walking on his head!
Day after day the curious peasants came and went, and if the astonished
Sutcliffe closed his doors against the unprofitable rabble, they peered in
at his windows, or hung about the entrances, hoping to see the remarkable
phenomenon issue forth. But as the day of "walking off on his ear" had not
then arrived, they were doomed to disappointment and lost faith in his
ability to do what they had expected of him.
JOHN RADCLIFFE.
John Radcliffe, the humbug, "the physician without learning," was the son
of a Yorkshire yeoman. When he had risen to intimacy with the leading
nobility of London,--as he did by his "shrewdness, arrogant simplicity,
and immeasurable insolence,"--he laid claim to aristocratic origin. The
Earl of Derwenter recognized _Sir_ John as a kinsman; but the heralds
interfered with the little "corner" of the doctor and earl, after
Radcliffe's decease, by admonishing the University of Oxford not to erect
any escutcheon over his plebeian monument.
Of Radcliffe's success in getting patronage we have spoken in another
chapter. Doubtless he, Dr. Hannes, and Dr. Mead all resorted to the same
sharp tricks, of which they accused each other by turns, in order to gain
notoriety and practice.
DR. EDWARD HANNES was reputed a "_basket-maker_." At least, his father
followed that humble calling. Of the son's earlier life little is known.
About the year 168-, he burst upon the London aristocracy with a
magnificent equipage, consisting of coach and four, and handsome liveried
servants and coachmen.
These were _his_ advertisements, and he soon rode into a splendid
practice, notwithstanding Radcliffe's contrary prognostication.
Dr. Hannes and Dr. Blackmer, being called to attend upon the young Duke of
Gloucester, and the disease taking a fatal turn, Sir John Radcliffe was
also called to examine into the case. Radcliffe could not forego the
opportunity here offered to lash his rivals, and turning to them in the
presence of the royal household, he said,--
"It would have been happy for the nation had you, sir (to Hannes), been
bred a basket-maker, and you, sir (to Blackmer), remained a country
schoolmaster, rather than have ventured out of your reach in the practice
of an art to which you are an utter stranger, and for your blunders in
which you ought to be whipped with one of your own rods."
As the case was simply one of rash, none of them had much to boast of.
A HORSE DOCTOR.
There have been, and still are, thousands in the various walks of life,
who, at some period, have attempted the practice of medicine. Among the
hundreds whom our colleges "grind out" annually, not more than one in
twenty succeeds in medical practice so far as to gain any eminence, or the
competence of a common laborer.
MARAT WAS A HORSE DOCTOR.
The most remarkable thing respecting this noted man occurred at his birth.
_He was born triplets!_
Yes, though "born of parents entirely unknown to history," three different
places have claimed themselves, or been claimed, as his birthplace.
Before his energies became perverted to political aims, he had endeavored
to rise, by his own talent and energies, through the sciences.
The year 1789 found him in the position of veterinary surgeon to the Count
d'Artois, thoroughly disgusted with his failure to rise in society with
the "quacks," as he termed them, "of the Corps Scientifique."
Miss Mühlbach, in her "_Maria Antoinette and her Son_," presents Marat in
conversation with the cobbler, Simon, as follows:--
"The cobbler quickly turned round to confront the questioner. He saw,
standing by his side, a little, remarkably crooked and dwarfed young man,
whose unnaturally large head was set upon narrow, depressed shoulders, and
whose whole (ludicrous) appearance made such an impression upon the
cobbler that he laughed outright.
"'Not beautiful, am I?' asked the stranger, who tried to join in the laugh
with the cobbler, but the result was a mere grimace; which made his
unnaturally large mouth extend from ear to ear, displaying two fearful
rows of long, greenish teeth. 'Not beautiful at all, am I? Dreadful ugly!'
"'You are somewhat remarkable, at least,' replied the cobbler. 'If I did
not hear you speak French, and see you standing upright, I should think
you the monstrous toad in the fable.'
"'I am the monstrous toad of the fable. I have merely disguised myself
to-day as a man, in order to look at this Austrian woman and her brood.'
"'Where do you live, and what is your name, sir?' asked the cobbler, with
glowing curiosity.
"'I live in the stables of the Count d'Artois, and my name is Jean Paul
Marat.'
"'In the stable!' cried the cobbler. 'My faith, I had not supposed you a
hostler or a coachman. It must be a funny sight, M. Marat, to see _you_
mounted upon a horse.'
"'You think that such a big toad does not belong there exactly. Well, you
are right, brother Simon. My real business is not at all with the horses,
but with the men of the stable. I am the horse doctor of the Count
d'Artois, and I can assure you that I am a tolerably skilful doctor.'"
We do not quote the above author as reliable authority in personal
descriptions, beyond the "shrugging of shoulders," which habit she
attributes to all of her characters (_vide_ "Napoleon and Queen Louisa,"
where she uses the phrase some twenty-three times).
At the time of his assuming the dictatorship, he resided in most squalid
apartments, situated in one of the lowest back streets of Paris, in
criminal intimacy with the wife of his printer.... He sold their bed to
get money to bring out the first number of his journal, and lived in
extreme poverty at a time when he could have become immensely rich by
selling his silence.
The death of this wretch was hastened only a few days by his
assassination, for he was already consumed by a disgusting disease, and it
is melancholy to add that he was adored after his death, and his remains
deposited in the Pantheon with national honors, and an altar erected to
his memory in the club of the Cordeliers.
"I killed one man to save a hundred thousand!" exclaimed the magnificent
Charlotte Corday to her judges; "a villain to save innocents, a furious
wild beast, to give repose to my country!" Thus the "horse doctor"
ignominiously perished at the hands of a woman,--a woman who immortalized
herself by killing a "villain."
PETER PINDAR, THE PREACHER.
We find many cases where ministers have turned doctors, and _vice versa_.
"PETER PINDAR" is here worthy of a passing notice. His true name was
Wolcot. Descended from a family of doctors for several generations, he
nevertheless himself failed to gain a living practice.
When King George III. sent Sir William Trelawney out as governor of
Jamaica, about 1760, he took young Dr. Wolcot with him, who acted in the
treble capacity of physician, private secretary, and chaplain to the
governor's household. Dr. Wolcot's professional knowledge had been
acquired somewhat "irregularly," and it is very doubtful whether he ever
received ordination at the hands of the bishops.
It is true, however, that he acted as rector for the colony, reading
prayers and preaching whenever a congregation of ten presented itself,
which occurred only semi-occasionally.
The doctor was fond of shooting, and 'tis gravely reported that he and his
clerk used to amuse themselves on the way to church by shooting pigeons
and other wild game, with which the wood abounded. Having shot their way
to the sacred edifice, the merry parson and jolly clerk would wait ten
minutes for the congregation to convene, and if, at the expiration of that
time, the quota had not arrived, the few were dismissed with a blessing,
and the pair shot their way back home. If but a few negroes presented
themselves, the rector ordered his clerk to give them a bit of silver,
with which to buy them off.
[Illustration: THE PARSON BUYING OFF THE "CONGREGATION."]
One old negro, more cunning than the rest, and who discovered that the
parson's interest was rather in the discharge of his fowling-piece than
the discharge of his priestly duties, used to present himself punctually
every Sunday at church.
"What brings you here, blackie?" asked the parson.
"To hear de prayer for sinners, and de sarmon, masser."
"Wouldn't a _bit_ or two serve you as well?" asked the rector, with a
wink.
"Well, masser, dis chile lub de good sarmon ob yer rev'rence, but dis time
de money might do," was the reply, with a significant scratch of his
woolly head.
The parson would then pay the price, the n
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