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>^f2;/ THE
FUNNT SIDE '
P H Y SIC
OB,
THE MYSTERIES OF MEDICINE,
PBESEJ5TING THK
Humorous and Serious Sides of Medical Practick
OF
MEDICAL HUMBUGS, QUACKS, AND CHARLATANS
IN ALL AGES AND ALL COUNTRIES,
— • — \sY^
By A. D. CRABTRE, M. D. ^
HAETFORD:
J. B. BURR & HYDE.
CHICAGO AND CINCINNATI:
J. B. BTJR-R, HYDE Sc COMlF^nSTY.
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.
106
c?
FREF^CE.
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 pro-
fessions 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, inci-
dents in the career of great physicians, etc., and to fix them in
the reader's mind by apt anecdotes, which will he found in abun-
dance 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 sur-
geon'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 vil-
lage 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 hon-
orable 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
(3)
4 PREFACE.
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, cer-
tain clairvoyants, and '' spiritual mediums,'^ and* the like, who
" practise medicine '' to a more or less extent, or profess to dis-
cover 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 pe-
riod 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 irw a practical sense. To the young who
would shun the crafts and villanies to which they must be ex-
posed 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 spu-
rious 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. — WIZ-
ARDS 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 BREW-
STER 19
II.
APOTHECAEIES.
FIRST MENTION OP. — A POOR SPECIMEN. — ELIZABETHAN. — KING JAMES I.
[VI.]. — ALLSPICE AND ALOES, SUGAR AND TARTAR EMETIC. — WAR. — PHY-
SICIAN VS. APOTHECARY. — IGNORANCE. — STEALING A TRADE. — A LAUGH-
ABLE 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 FOR-
TUNES ARE REALIZED. — SPALDING's GLUE. — SOURED SWILL. — SARSAPA-
RILLA HU3IBUGS. — 8. P. TOWNSEND. — " A DOWN EAST FARMER'S STORY." —
" WILD CHERRY " EXPOSITIONS. — "CAPTAIN WRAGGe's PILL " A FAIR SAM-
PLE OF THE WHOLE. — HOW PILL SALES ARE STARTED. A SLIP OP 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
6
b CONTENTS.
IV.
MANUFACTURED DOCTORS.
A BOSTON BARBER aS M. D. — A BARBER " GONE TO POT." FOOLS MADE DOC-
TORS. — BAKERS. — BARBERS. — " A LUCKY DOG." — TINKERS. — ROYAL
FAVORS. " LITTLE CARVER DAVY." — A BUTCHER's BLOCKHEAD. — A
SWEEPING VISIT. — HOP-PED FROM OBSCURITY. — PEDAGOGUES TURN DOC-
TORS. — 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
Y.
WOMAN AS PHYSICIAN.
HER " MISSION." — NO PLACE IN MEDICAL HISTORY. — ONE OF THEM. MRS.
STEPHENS. — " CRAZY SALLY." RIGHT TO BEAR ARMS. RUNS IN THE FAMI-
LY. — 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 FOB LOVE. — " IS HE MAD? " —
THOROUGHWORT WINS 123
YI.
QUACKS.
ANECDOTE IN ILLUSTRATION. — DERIVATION. — FATHER OF QUACKS. — A MEDI-
CAL " 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 CON-
SULTATION. — "SCENES FROM WESTERN PRACTICE." — *' TWIST ROOT." — A
JOLLY TRIO. — NEW " BUST " OF CUPID. — AN UNWILLING LISTENER. . 157
YII.
CHARLATANS AND IMPOSTORS.
DEFINITION. — ADVERTISING CHARLATANS. — CITY IMPOSTORS. — FALSE NAMES.
— " ADVICE FREE." — INTIMIDATIONS. — WHOLESALE BOBBERY. — 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. — PER-
QUISITES. — PURCHASED DIPLOMAS. — "INSTITUTES." — WHOLESALE SLAUGH-
TER OF INFANTS. FEMALE HARPIES. — A BOSTON HARPY. — WHERE OUR
" LOST CHILDREN " GO. — END OF A WRETCH. . . . • • 180
CONTENTS. 7
YIII.
ANECDOTES OF PHYSICIANS.
A WANT SUPPLIED. — ORIGINAL ANECDOTES OP ABERNETHY. — A LIVE IRISH-
MAN. — 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-DRAW-
ING. — 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 EXPOSE. — " ONE MORE UN-
FORTUNATE." — PROCURESSES. — BOSTON MUSEUM. — " A NICE OLD GENTLE-
MAN." — MONEY DOES IT. — GREAT SUMS OP MONEY. — " LOVE POWDER"
EXPOSE. — 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 JESCULAPIAN." —
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
HOL3IES. — A HOMELESS STUDENT. 253
XL
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 MYS-
TERY. — THE NAGLES FAMILY. — RAISING THE DEAD. — A LIVELY STAMPEDE. —
HOLY WATER. — O^ESAR'S GHOST AT PHILIPPI. — LORD BYRON AND DR. JOHN-
SON. — GHOST OF A GUILTY CONSCIENCE. — " JOCKEYING A GHOST." — THE
WOUNDED BIRD. — A BISHOP SEES A GHOST. — MUSICAL GHOSTS. — A
8 CONTENTS.
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. — SUPER-
STITIOUS IDOLATRIES. — WONDERFUL KNOWLEDGE. — NAUGHTY BOYS. — ER-
RORS 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 EN-
CORE. — "CHEEK." — VARIOUS WAYS OF ADVERTISING 341
XIV.
SCENES FROM EVERY-DAY PRACTICE. .
THE BE-GGAR BOY AND THE GOLDEN-HAIRED HEIRESS. — MY MIDNIGHT CALL. —
THE CONSCIENCE-STRICKEN MOTHER. — " OLD SEROSITY." — THE ILLEGITI-
MATE CHILD. — DEATH OF THE BEAUTIFUL. — WHO IS THE HEIR? — A TOUCH-
ING 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
XY.
DOCTORS' FEES AND INCOMES.
ANCIENT FEES. — LARGE FEES. — SPANISH PRIEST-DOCTORS. — A PIG ON PEN-
ANCE. — 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 FEB." — " PITCH HIM
OVERBOARD." — DELICATE FEES. — MAKING THE MOST OF THEM. . . 386
CONTENTS. 9
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 GENEROS-
ITY. — " what's THE PRICE OF BEEF? " — A SAD OMISSION. — INNATE GEN-
EROSITY. — A CURB-STONE MONEY-MANIAC. — AN EYE-OPENER. — AN AVARI-
CIOUS DOCTOR. — ROBBING THE DEAD 410
XYII.
LOVE AND LOVERS.
XANTIPPE, BEFORE JEALOUSY. — A FIRST LOVE. — BLASTED HOPES. — A DOC-
TOR'S STORY. — THE FLIGHT FROM " THE HOUNDS OF THE LAW." — THE EX-
ILE 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-PO-
TENT. — 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 " GAS-
SY " 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 OP ANTWERP. — THE OLD LADY IN THE POKE-BON-
NET. — 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 EC-
CENTRIC PHILADELPHIAN. — THE POODLES, DRS. HUNTER AND SCIPIO. — SI-
LENT 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 DOC-
TORS 495
10 CONTENTS.
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 HYS-
TERIA. — 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 BI-
KER BUSTLE. — COUNTEY PEE8CEIPTIONS AND A FUNNY MISTAKE. — ARE YOU
DRUNK OR SOBER? . . . ' • . . 517
XXL
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. — AN-
OTHER. — " 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
POKTRY. — MORE SCHOOLMASTERS AND TAILORS. — NAPOLEON'S AND WASH-
INGTON'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 ANOIALS.
— "music among THE MICE." — MUSIC AND HEALTH 571
XXIY.
ADULTERATIONS.
BREAD, BUTTER, AND THE BIBLE. — " JACK ASHORE." — BUCKWHEAT CAKES ARE
good. — what's in the bread, AND HOW TO DETECT IT. — BUTTER. — HOW
CONTENTS. 11
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 609
XXV.
ALL ABOUT TOBACCO.
" HOW MUCH? " — AMOUNT IN THE WORLD. — " SIAMESE TWINS." — A 3IIGHTY
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 BE-
GETS LAZINESS. NATIONAL RUIN. — BLACK EYES. — DISEASE AND INSANITY.
— USES OF THE WEED. — GETS RID OF SUPERFLUOUS POPULATION. — TOBAC-
CO WORSE THAN RUM. — THE OLD FARMER'S DOG AND THE WOODCHUCK. —
" WHAT KILLED HIM." 633
XXYL
DKESS AND ADDRESS OF PHYSICIANS.
GOSSIP IS INTERESTING. — COMPARATIVE SIGNS OF GREATNESS. — TFIE 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 HAB-
ITS. — THE DOCTOR AND THE VALET. — A BIG WIG. — BEN FRANKLIN. — JEN-
NEr's DRESS. — AN ANIMATED WIG ; A LAUGHABLE STORY. — A CHARACTER.
— " DOSH, DOSH." 659
XXVII
MEDICAL FACTS AND STATISTICS.
HOW MANY. — WHO THEY ARE. — HOW TIIEY DIE. — HOW MUCH RUM THEY CON-
SUME. — 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 INSANI-
TY. — A COOL STUDENT. — HOW TO GET RID OF A MOTHER-IN-LAW. . 680
12 CONTENTS.
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 TORE-
FATHERS BLEED. — A FRENCH BUTCHER CUR ? — ABERNETHY OPPOSES
BLOOD-LETTING. — THE MISFORTUNES OF A BARB«R-SURGEON (THREE SCENES
FROM DOUGLASS JERROLd) ; JOB PIPPINS AND THE WAGONER; JOB AND THE
HIGHWAYMEN ; JOB NAKED AND JOB DRESSED G95
XXIX.
THE OMNIUM GATHERUM.
EX-SELL-SIR ! — " THE OBJECT TO BE ATTAINED." — A NOTORIOUS FEMALE DOC-
TOR. — 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 OR-
PHAN, THE SUMMONS, THE TENEMENT, THE INVALIDS, HOW THEY LIVED, HER
HISTORY, TITE UNNATURAL FATHER, HOW THEY DIED, THE END. — A PETER-
FUNK DOCTOR. — SELLING OUT 727
XXXT.
"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
CONTENTS. 13
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. — AC-
TION AND IDLENESS. — IDLENESS AND CRIME. — BEAUTY AND DEVELOPMENT.
— SLEEP. — DAY AND NIGHT. " WHAT SHALL WE EAT?" — A STOMACH-
MILL AND A STEVVING-PAN. — "FIVE MINUTES FOR REFRESHMENTS." — AN-
CIENT DIET. COOKS IN A " STEW." — THE GREEN-GROCERIES OF THE CLAS-
SICS. — 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. — PRE-
VENTIVES. — 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.
— FEATHlvRS 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 ACCI-
DENT. — 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,
81.
32.
83.
Sk
35.
86.
87.
88.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
A. D. CRABTRE, M. D.,
DR. ANGLICUS PONTO,
MISFORTUNES NEVER COME SINGLY, -
THE MISER OUTWITS HIMSELF,
COMMENCING A PRACTICE IN NEW YORK,
GRACE BEFORE MEAT ....
OLD PILGARLIC TAKES A BATH, -
PROFESSOR BREWSTER,
AN INFANTRY CHARGE,
THE " FREE PASS " PRESCRIPTION, -
THE W^RONG PATIENT, - - -
A CANDIDATE FOR THE PRESIDENCY,
UNDER FULL SAIL, ....
" IT'S ALL A HUMBUG,"
" BAREFOOTED ON TILE TOP OF HIS HEAD,
OLD " SANDS OF WFE,"
REFRESHMENTS, ....
THE EYE DOCTOR, - - -
THE YOUNG SURGEON'S FIRST EXPERIENCE,
HEALING THE SICK WITH A GOLDEN DOSE,
THE PARSON BUYING OFF THE "CONGREGATION,-
A JUVENILE BACCHUS, ....
" DON'T YOU OBSERVE THE ARMS OF MRS. MAPP ?
THREE WISE STUDENTS CONSULTING A DOCTRESS
" POH ! YOU 'RE A GIRL,"
" HERE WE GO UP-UP-UPPY,"
" LOVE AMONG THE ROSES,"
THE INQUISITIVE COUNTRYISIEN, -
CURIOUS Elt'ECTS OF A FEVER, -
MARRYING A FAMILY,
'OPATHISTS IN CONSULTATION, -
A " HYPO " PATIENT DISCHARGING HIS PHYSICIAN,
TOO MUCH HAT,
CONVINCING EVIDENCE OF INSOLVENCY, -
"AN' WHO'LL YEZE LIKE TO SEE, SURE?" .
A BOSTON QUACK EXAMINING A STUDENT,
ORNAMENTAL TAIL-PIECE,
DR. ABERNETHY IN THE HOSPITAL,
AN EXTENSIVE SET, ....
"0, DOCTHER, DEAR, I'VE PIZENED ME BOY,"
"LOSTMARSER! LOSTMARSER!"
NOT A STOMACH PUMP,
"LOWER TIER, LARBOARD SIDE,"
THE FARMER'S ESCAPE FROM THE CHOLERA,
TOO MUCH VAPOR,
A DRY SHOWER BATH. ....
Frontispiece.
- 31
93
'56
93
1C3
105
111
120
122
128
134
141
148
156
161
171
173
175
178
179
181
183
205
207
209
213
217
223
224
225
XIV
ILLUSTRATIONS. X<
47. GRAPES AND WINE, • - 226
48. CUAKGE, INFANTRY! 289
49. AFTER THE BATTLE, 240
50. THE FORTUNE-TELLER'S MAGIC MIRROR, 244
51. CHILDREN CONSULTING A FORTUNE-TELLER, - - - - 261
52. THE HUNTRESS, 252
53 THE ONONDAGA FARMER BOY, 256
54. THE POLITE QUADRUPED, - - 265
55. YOUNG ABERNETHY, 266
66. "PINNY, SIR? JUST ONE PINNY," 274
67. 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, 801
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, - - - 3I3
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, - " 3G3
100. THE BEGGAR BOY, 366
101. REMORSE, 358
102. THE LOST HEIR, 373
XVI ILLUSTRATIONS.
103. A MORNING CALLER, - * . * - - - - - 876
104. " WHY DID I TAZE YE ? " 376
105. SUCCESS OF TERRY'S COURTSHIP, 879
106. THE BETRAYED, --.*..----. 882
107. SAILING INTO PORT, * * * .» ... 885
108. . A SAN BENITO PIG, 888
109. AN OLD ENGLISH CLERGYMAN AND HIS FAMILY, .... 890
110. THE KING'S PHYSICIAN AND THE EXECUTIONER, - - • - 393
111. A SLIPl'EU-Y FEE, ' - - - 397
112. A LIVING FEE, - - . . ^ 389
113. STUFFED PETS, 400
114. A PIONEER OF HOM(EOPATHY, - - - - - - - ' 4C8
115. A i-HARP 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
146. EFFECTS OF AN EARTHQUAKE, 483
146. A BELIEVER SEES HIS GRANDMOTHER, 488
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
l1
ILLUSTRATIONS. Xyii
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, 691
178. " MUSIC, THE SOUL OF LIFE," 597
175. TILE MUSICAL MICE, 597
180. FOUNTAIN, 598
181. SIGNS OF CIVILIZATION, - - - 603
182. SWILL MILK (M VGNIFIED), 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
i93. 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 OP THE TIMES, - - - - - - - - - 648
205. MY LAZY SMOKING FRIEND, - . . . - . - 650
206. "SHALL I ASSIST YOU TO ALIGHT?" - - - ■ . " . - 653
207. WORK FOR TONGUES AND i^INGERS, 653
208. WHAT KILLED THE DOG? - • - 657
209. THE NEWSBOY, ^658
210. THE GREAT SURGEONS OP THE WORLD, - - - - * - 661
211. A CALL ON THE VILLAGE DOCTOR, 663
212. PHYSICIANS' COSTUIVIE IN 1790, 664
213. HOW POOR TOMMY WAS LOST, 666
214. BRIDGET'S METHOD OF MENDING STOCKINGS, 667
2
\
Xytii ILLUSTRATIONS.
215. THE UNDERTAKERS' ARMS, 671
216. DISPUTE OF THE DOCTOR AND VALET, BH
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 BORRO\YED WATCH, 706
231. JOB'S DECISION, - - . , 708
232. SQUASHY'S SURGICAL OPERATION, 715
233. •'^VILL 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 UENEMENT, 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 01' 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
262. 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
MEDICAL HUMBUGS.
Marina Should I tell my history,
'Twould seem like lies disdained in the reporting;
Pericles. Pray thee, speak. — Shakspeare.
ORIGIN AND APPLICATION OP *' 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 STAGB-
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 embar-
rassed.
(19)
20 . ETYMOLOGY OF "HUMBUG."
"What were you doing at the front door but a moment
since ? "
'* Nothin', ma'am, but spakin' to me cousin ; he's a p'leece-
man, ma'am, if ye plaze, ma'am," replied Bridget, drop-
ping 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 foi-bidden to j^olish 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 hurhbuggery ! for the
servant girl was humbugging her mistress by pretending to
l^olish 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 aristoc-
racy, yet being miable 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 be-
came corrupted, and "humbug" followed. Hence, taking
EGYPTIAN PHYSICIANS. 21
the sense from the derivation of the word, humbug means
"an imposition, under fair pretences;" cheat; hoax; a de-
ception \ythout malicious intent. Webster says it is " a low
word."
The humbugs in medicine, we assert, began to exist with
the firsVpersons of whom we have any account in the history
of the healing art. Among the early Egyptian physicians,
^sculapius was esteemed as the most celebrated. He was
the first humbug in his line. However, nearly all the ac-
counts 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 occupa-
tion, who picked a quarrel with ^sculapius, 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 physi-
22 DANIEL.
ciaiis 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 ^ceeding
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, "^ncZ 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, lacon-
ically, "He being a good Catholic, his funeral was numer-
ously 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 Dan-
iel 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 sil-
ver 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,
WIZARDS. 23
" These men are neither robbers of churches, nor yet blas-
phemers of your goddess."
Diana was appealed to for women in childbirth ; Mercu-
rius for the healing of cutaneous diseases (Jierjjes), prob-
ably 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 Avitch shall not live," that " a wizard shall be put to death,"
and that " the soothsayer be stoned."
Nevertheless, the wretches continued to practise their de-
ceptions, but less openly for a time, and they are made men-
tion 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 Kidiculous Prescriptions, we shall men-
tion these remedies : —
The earliest record we find of surgical operations in the
Old Testament is in Judges xix. 29, —a "capital opera-
tion," 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
j)ractice 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
24 DRUIDS.
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 vic-
tijn must die a painful "death, and forever after suffer a r^ore
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 particuUr 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 w^ill 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.
ROBIN HOOD AND THE FllIARS. 25
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 con-
tinually 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 illus-
trative 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 be-
lieve that 3^ou 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.
26 CHIRON.
"Down they fell, and mumbled over their Latin, but de-
clared 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 Sher-
wood, 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 celeb-
rity 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 ^sculapius, 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 ^sculapius, 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
DOCTORS IN ROME B. C. 27
Menecmtes, Avho 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 chiimed to have cured, as proofs of
his great ability. One he disguised as Apollo, another he
arrayed in the habit of JEsculapius, 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 intro-
duced into Rome, and that the Septimont City was six hun-
dred 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 " with-
out 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 medi-
cal, 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 cer-
tain surgical operations.
After the Reformation the vocations of spiritual and medi-
cal 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 denomina-
tions. /
28 OLD "COURT PHYSICIANS."
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 interest-
ing 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 shav-
ers of the invalided public. But these Avill be discoursed of
under another head.
We here offer one proof of this state of affairs by a quo-
tation from the original charter of the first College of Physi-
cians, granted by Henry VIII., which reads, "Before this
period a great multitude of ignorant persons, of which the
DRS. CAIUS AND LINACRE. 29
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 gentle-
man 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 petition-
ers of the charter, which complained that the above rabble of
doctors could not read the Book (Bible). Now see the igno-
rance — 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 Avith their prac-
tice, that he threw down the sacred volume in a passion, say-
ing, '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 men-
tioning here, but will notice in our chapter on quacks.
Mr. JeaiFreson, in his excellent work, "Book About Doc-
tors," to which work I am indebted for several anecdotes,
says,—
30 SYDENHAM.
"The lives of three physicians — Sydenham, Sir Hans
Sloane, and Heberden — completely bridge over the uncer-
tain period between old empiricism and modern science."
The former, Dr. Thomas Sydenham, was born at Wind-
ford 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 sol-
dier. He was about forty years old when admitted a mem-
ber 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 di-
ploma 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 gentle-
man, 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
READ DON QUIXOTE."
31
the utmost confidence of the bon ton, he suffered excruciating
pains from the gout, which, with other complications, ended
his days. "Physician, heal thyself."
DR. ANGLICUS PONTO.
Dr. Blackmore, an aspirant to medical fame, applied to
Dr. Sydenham, while residing in Pall Mall, with the fol-
lowing 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 biograph-
ical 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 enthusi-
astic friend had set forth Sloane's qualifications in glowing
language, as being perfected in anatomy, botany, and the
32 GOUT AND CONSUMPTION.
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 under-
stands botany ; and as for anatomy, no doubt my butcher can
dissect a joint quite as well. No, no, young man ; this ^s all
stufi:\ 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, fre-
quently taking the young man vvith 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
Lear attentively their story, and then reply, " Well, I will
consider your case, and in a few days will prescribe some-
thing 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. Black-
more, 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 paj^ the
nicest and most accurate attention to the symptoms of dis-
tempers, w6uld 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 SNEAK THIEF.
33
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 after-
noon, and reflecting, with a serene countenance and great
complacency on the alleviation of human misery that his
skill enabled him to ^ive. Whilst this divine man was en-
MISFORTUNES NEVER COME SINGLY.
joying this delicious reverie, and occasionally sipping his
favorite beverage from a silver tankard, in which was im-
mersed 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."
This reminds one of a story of an old man who stood in a
highway, leaning on his staff, and crying, in a feeble, croak-
ing voice, "Stop thief I stop thief!"
3
34 OTHER ENGLISH HUMBUGS.
"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 Gold-
smith, 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 I 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 hum-
bugs pursued by early physicians in order to gain practice.
"Dr. Radcliffe," says Dr. Hannes, "on his arrival in Lon-
don, employed half of the porters in town to call for him at
the coffee-houses (a famous resort of physicians of the seven-
teenth 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.
MEDICAL JEALOUSY. 35
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 con-
versed 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 cam-
paign 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 rich-
est 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 iiim, he
kept his " fine horses," and rode into a flourishing business.
To make his name known, Dr. Hannes used to send liv-
eried 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' car-
riage?" etc.
Acting upon these orders, one of these fellows, after look-
ing into every carriage from Whitehall to Royal Exchange,
ran into a coflfee-house, which w^as 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?"
66 THE RADCLIFFE LIBRARY.
"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 be-
fore this occurred.
A worthy biographer begins thus, in writing of Dr. Rad-
cliffe : "The Jacobite partisan, the physician without learn-
ing, the luxurious ban vivant, Radcliffe, who grudged the
odd sixpence of his tavern score," etc., " was born in York-
shire, 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 Univer-
sity 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 na-
tion, 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 ex-
traordinary."
Mandeville further accuses him of " an insatiable greed-
A SECRET. OF SUCCESS. 37
iness after wealth, no regard for religion, or affection for
kindred, no compassion for the poor, and hardly any human-
ity 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, mag-
nanimously 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 Sackney, who
has amassed riches oift of the public and the tears of or-
phans and widows."
As the miserable old man turned away, Radcliffe ex-
claimed, "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
38
A MISER'S GOLD.
that "all tilings are clianged, and we cliange witlij^liem," did
not api)ly 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.
THE MISER OUTWITS HIMSELF.
The requisites essential to success are amusingly described
by a writer of the former time, as follows : —
Fmt. A decent black suit, and (if your credit will
stretch so far)is Ji plush jacket, not a pin the worse if thread-
bare as a tailor's cloak — it shows tbe more reverend an-
tiquity.
Second. You must carry a caduceus, or cane, like Mer-
cury, capped with a civet-box (or snuff-box like Sir Rich-
ard'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 respec-
table neighborhood, with a hatch * at the door ; have your
* Small door or window, through which to receive night calls, etc.
EARLY FRENCH PHYSICIANS. 39
reception-room hung with pictures of some celebrated phy-
sicians, 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 morn-
ing as fees.
Fifth. Fail not to patronize neighboring alehouses,
which Aay, in turn, recommend. you to inquirers ; and hold
correspondence with all the nurses and midwives whose ad-
dress you may obtain, to applaud your skill at gossiping.
Sixth. Be not over modest in airy pretensions, not for-
getting that loquaciousness and impudence are essentials to
gaining a fool's confidence. In case you are naturally back-
ward in Umguage, or have an impediment of speech, you are
recommended to persevere in a habit of mysterious and pro-
found 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 practi-
tioners. 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
40 PHYSICIANS TO LOUIS XIV.
thought, and "the palace of the soul," knew little of anat-
omy, and nothing of the circulation of the blood.
The physicians of later periods held court positions by flat-
tery, 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 sti-
pend whatever, except the honor of holding so exaltecl a
position as court physician to such a mighty ruler ; and, not-
withstanding 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 apart-
ments 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 expen-
sive 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 physi-
cians. 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 per-
suade 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."
NAPOLEON'S SCEPTICISM. 41
" I pray your majesty to try," entreated the doctor.
** The aversion I have for the slightest preparation is in-
conceivable. I have exposed myself to the dangers of the
battle-field with indifference ; I have seen death without be-
traying 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 Gen-
eral 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 suspi-
ciously.
" 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 acci-
dental death, have lived another half century, had^confided to
42 A FORTUNE ON SEINE WATER.
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
infinitwni.
Villars employed several assistants to stand on the cor-
ners of the streets, and who, when a funeral was seen pass-
ing, would exclaim, —
"Ah! if the unfortunate deceased had but taken Dr. Vil-
lars' 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 a23pearing
witnesses, and made haste to obtain the doctor's nostrum —
and instruQtions." And here is where the laugh comes in.
The patient received positive instructions to live temper-
ately, 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
there])y, 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 live 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 Yillars, he intrusted his secret to an-
other, 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 ypu. In eating and exercise be moderate. Avoid
AMERICAN MEDICAL HUMBUGS. 43
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 di-
rections."
" What do you think of this ? " asked the editor of a jour-
nal of Dr. P.^ former professor of H College, pre-
senting 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 di-
rections might restore you to health."
"You have treated my case for a long time, doctor, and
have never given me such instructions. Pray w^hy don't you
get up something similar?"
"Well, what 'svas his reply?" I asked, as the editor hes-
itated.
"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 busi-
ness.
The following true statement is a case in point : A phy-
sician 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
44 STAKTING A CITY PKACTICE.
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 w^as respecting an-
other 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 3^ou 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 re-
sorted to by some of those physicians, of whom we have
already made brief mention, for getting into practice.
" What avails it that I know as much as other physicians
who have entered upon a practice? What does my diploma
.^
A COUNTRY DOCTOR. 47
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 pre-
tence 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 ad-
mitted 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 continu-
ally in waiting, some with a hand, a foot, face, or other parts
bouiid 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 fol-
lowed, the lackeys were dismissed, and the physician's prac-
tice 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, har-
nessed 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.
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.
48
MY INTERROGATOR.
His person was quite repulsive. He was probably fifty years
of ao^e, 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
lea^. But what was most observable was his thin, uneven.
GRACE BEFORE MEAT.
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
A STUNNER. 49
demands, and too Ifttle 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 enor-
mous palm across the table. "I am rejoiced, as I said be-
fore, to meet a brother."
"A brother P' 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 tJiinh, sir, that the Fillopian ducks are the same
in a male as they are in a female?'^
50 DR. PUSBELLY.
[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 ^rosto^e) 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 sten-
torian voice.
"Have you got ^nj Bony set arhs?^^ was all I waited to
hear. I subsequently learned that he was known in Ver-
mont 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 inter-
view 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 sta-
tion to being cramped ujo inside the coach with eight per-
sons, 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.
THE STAGE DRIVER'S STORY. 51
" 0, 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 be-
lieve in his (expletive) medicines — ■"
"Don't swear, Sam. You can tell the story better with-
out. -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 hyi30crite, 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 to-
bacco 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
4
52 "PROFESSOR BREWSTER."
slobbered tobacco juicci 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, lie 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 lot 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 fa-
mous. In what category to place this man, — Professor
Brewster, so called, — it is perhaps a little difficult to de-
termine ; whether among "clairvoyants," "animal magnet-
izers," "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 supe-
rior man of his race, and what thorough, early education
->
A REMARKABLE NAME.
55
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'.
A reliable friend of mine has gathered the following fticts
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.
PROFESSOR BREWSTER.
I
"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 welj moulded, and also extremely large, but
not disproportionally large for his massive shoulders. He
was born of 'poor but honest* (though undoubtedly black)
56 "WORTHY'S" ACCOMPLISHMENTS.
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 uuAvorthy 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 b}^ the narrow rules of spelling. Wor-
thy 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. Suf-
fice 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 fel-
low also, and, before he was sixteen years old, was regarded
by his friends and acquaintances, of African descent, espe-
cially, 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. Abun-
dant witnesses, such as they are, can now be found ready to
take their oaths that they have seen Worthy, *with their
A MESMEKIZER. 57
own eyes,* perform his miracles. It* is certain that these
believe in liim.
" 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 ' mes-
merizer,' or magnetic physician. A school-girl, knowing
that^ Worthy * practised the healing art' somewhat, and suf-
fering intensely with a toothache, jeeringly asked him,
* Why can't ybu think of something to cure my toothache ? '
Whereupon Worthy clapped his hands to her head, and vig-
orously drew them down her cheeks, half in fun, half seri-
ously, 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 power-
ful body and superb health, as well as native force of intel-
lect, may be as naturally gifted, as a magnetic operator, as
even Mesmer himself. Indeed, the waiter is inclined to be-
lieve that Worthy's great power over many jDeople 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 twent^^-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 Dem-
arara, and to South America, where they coasted during the
winters, and took in cofiee, 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 profes-
58 "LOOKING."
sional education may be said to have at that time become
* finished.'
" Since then Worthy has practised medicine to considera-
ble extent, told fortunes, Mooked ' (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 suc-
cess in ferreting out lost or stolen treasures, and bringing
thieves to grief.
"People of all classes in society visit him with their trou-
bles of mind and body. But the major part of his clientage
is females. The wives and accomplished daughters of weal-
thy 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
misuccessful, 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). Peo-
ple 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 con-
solations, or mourn over the ill luck which he prognosticates
LARGE CORRESPONDENCE. ' 59
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 char-
acter 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 gram-
matical precision, and observing what would ordinarily be
called an ' excellent business style,' at least, in their composi-
tion, 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,,
w^hile 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 sup-
posed demigodship, while adding constantly to their num-
ber. 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 his-
tory of the war, serving to show how little the people of the
North understood, in the first years of the contest, that they
60
BREWSTER AS A PATRIOT.
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
Taise 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 uncompli-
mentary to the latter."
II.
APOTHECAEIES.
FIRST MENTION OF. — A POOK SPECIMEN. — ELIZABETHAN. — KING JAMES I.
[VI.]. — ALLSPICE AND ALOES, SUGAR AND TARTAR EMETIC. — WAR. — PHY-
SICIAN VS. APOTHECARY. — IGNORANCE. STEALING A TRADE. — A LAUGH-
ABLE 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 men-
tion 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,
(61)
62 BIBLICAL APOTHECARIES.
We have good grounds for supposing this to have been
the case in the time of the rebuilding of the wall of Jerusa-
lem, more that two thousand years ago. Nfehemiah informs
us that the son of an apothecary assisted in " fortifying Jeru-
salem 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 re-
building of the fortifications than " an officer appointed to
take charge of the magazines "?
One more reference we draw from Scripture,* viz., in Ex-
odus 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 im-
plies that the said " apothecary ".was a medical man, a dispen-
ser 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 thir-
teenth century.
The oldest known work on compounding medicines was
written by Nicolaus Mynepsus, who died, in the commence-
ment 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 ^^^oor 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.
* The art of embalming was known, and even practised by " servants,'* trans-
lated or called physicians, or sometimes apothecaries (or " by his arts "), four
thousand years ago. Jacob, Joseph, Asa, and others were embalmed. The
Egyptians were early versed in this art, which now is almost, or entirely,
lost.
SHAKSPEARE'S APOTHECARY. 33
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 ! [f 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 oijpression 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.
64 DR. BULLYN'S RULES.
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 reme-
dies 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 war^es, that they corrupt not.
15. That he put not in quid 2^^o Q^o (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, un-
til his remedies, for all diseases which flesh is heir to, are
now sold throughout the entire universe !
ALLSPICE AND ALOES. 65
As the doctors were accustomed to retain their most valu-
able recipes, and put up the medicines themselves, selling
them as nostrums, and because of the heavy percentage de-
manded 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 cor-
ner by themselves, but not unusually thrown about and jum-
bled amongst the articles kept for culinary and other pur-
poses. As mineral medicines became more generally used,
these were also added to the little stock, and not unfrequent-
ly 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 apoth-
ecary gave the most attention, as now, to the exposition and
sale of those articles which sold the most readily, and re-
turned 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.
QQ WAR OF DOCTORS AND APOTHECARIES.
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 Eng-
land (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 neg-
lects, 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, so-
cially and pecuniarily, that the more prosperous of them
could afi()rd 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 quar-
rel 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 recom-
mended the applicant to one who favored him, or else jyre-
scribed for the patient himself . The promulgation of this fact
was the declaration of war with the old physicians, who here-
tofore had done their best to keep down the apothecaries. The
former threatened punishment, as provided by law ; the lat-
ter retaliated, by refusing to call them in to consult on diffi-
cult cases. " Starving graduates of Oxford and Cambridge,
with the certificate of the college in their pockets, were im-
bittered 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, in-
terest sided with the apothecaries.
IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. 67
" 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 estab-
lished in the College of Physicians, where prescriptions were
dispensed at cost. While this proceedhig served to lessen
the apothecary's income for a time, it could not greatly ben-
efit the prescribing physician. The former might parallel
his case with lago, 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, —Dispensari-
ans and Anti-dispensarians. Charges of ignorance, extor-
tion, 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 iur
crease 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 col-
lege for prescribing for a patient without a regular physi-
cian'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 be-^
ing considered test cases, the doctors from this time (about
1725) discontinued the exercise of their authority over the
apothecaries.
68 IGNORANCE.
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 dock)r. 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 igno-
rant clerks, to prescribe for persons, strangers perhaps, who
call to inquire for a physician ; and cases, too, where the ut-
most skill and experience are required.
The following amusing anecdote is sufficiently in accord-
ance with facts within our own knowledge to be true, not-
withstanding its seeming improbability : —
Anecdote of Macready, the Actor.
The handwriting of Macready, the actor, w^as curiously il-
legible, 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 phj^sician's prescription, which it
most resembles."
"So it does," acquiesced Mr. Brougham, again looking
over the queer hieroglyphics. "Let us go to an apotheca-
•ry'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 w^as a pause.
Brougham and his friend pretended not to notice the pro-
ceedings. 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
A LAUGHABLE PRESCRIPTION.
69
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 pro-
ceeded to fill the vial with some apocryphal fluid, and, giv-
ing it a professional "shake up," duly corked and labelled it.
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
5
70 THE WRONG PATIENT.
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 dan-
delion. In the same city, on the same street, I know an-
other who was prosecuted for dispensing opium for taraxi-
cum, which carelesness caused the death of two children.
The following mistake was less fatal, but only think of the
poor lady's feelings I
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 ef-
fectually disguised.
" Do you like soda water ? " asked the druggist.
"O, yis, thank ye, sir," was the prompt reply; **an* lim-
mun, 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 gentle-
manly 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 I Murther ! It was for a sick man I wanted it, an'
.not meself at all."
THE ANCIENT AND MODERN APOTHECARY. 7
While there have been great changes in the drug trade
during the last fifty years, necessary to the increasing de-
mand for dru«:s, the establishment of wholesale houses and
THE WRONG PATIENT.
some specialties, and in cities, the substitution of cigars,
soda water, patent medicines, etc., for groceries and provis-
ions, 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, un-
gainly mortar is not substituted by a mill ; the signs of
ounces and drachms remain the same, though so near alike
that they lire 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 spe-
cies 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 cor-
ners, and frighten our horses at night, as in the days of our
forefathers.
72 WHOLESALE DRUG SWALLOWING.
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 win-
dows 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 pos-
itive opinion that his infernal majesty beats a good many of
them by the encouragement of their purchase ; mid, 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, w^ithhold 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. Proba-
bly he gets a prescription, with instructions to go to a cer-
tain respectable druggist or apothecary in town to have the
REASONS OF FAILURES. 73
necessary medicines put up. Of course a respectable phy-
sician 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 pa-
tient, — no matter who or where he is, — did voii ever <ret
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 pre-
scription compounded.
I once was called to visit a lady who was laboring under
great prostration ; " sickness at the stomach," with constipa-
tion.
" 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 prescrip-
tions 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 I Not that
a drachm could be taken at a dose with impunity ; but what-
ever 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 in-
ert medicines.
Where a man's treasure is, his heart is also. An apothe-
cary'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."
74 THE SAMPLE CLERK.
But the greatest cheat is in the " substituting " business ;
the ^^ quid jpro quoJ'^ 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 pre-
scription ! 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 men-
tioned, 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 ai:)proached, I heard, among the cries and vocifera-
tions, —
"Howld to it, Jimmy ; it'll be the makin' of ye."
I drew nearer, and discovered a sickly-looking lad lean-
ing 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 be-
hind to assist in the task. They were evidently endeav-
oring 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 dark in a potecary
shop" said another, as he blew a cloud of smoke from his
/
"GENERAL GRANT SMOKES." 77
own cigar stump into the pale face of the victim to modern
accomplishments.
" General Grant smokes, Jimmy, and you'll never be a
man if 3^ou don't learn," added a voice minus the brogue.
A policeman here interfered, and rescued the wretched
"ITimmy."
" 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 dark of him the nixt."
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 FOR-
TUNES ARK REALIZED. — SPALDING'S GLUE. — SOURED SWILL. — SARSAPA-
BILLA HUMBUGS. — S. P. TOWNSEND. — " A DOWN EAST FARMER'S STORY."
— "WILD cherry" EXPOSITIONS. — "CAPTAIN WBAGGE'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 " m?is " and
" opathies " of the medical fraternity, their quarrels and de-
preciations 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
(78)
THE EARLIEST PATENT NOSTRUMS. 79
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 partic-
ular nostrum had wrought upon them. And to listen to
these landers, 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, con-
sumption, 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 mounte-
banks. These were attendant upon fairs and in the market-
places, 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, physi-
cian, apothecary, mountebank, speculator, all seized upon
the "power of the press," to more extensively introduce
their "wonderful discoveries."
When 3^ou notice the name — and, O, ye gods, such names
as are patched up to attract your attention ! — to a new med-
icine, 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.
80 ADVERTISING DOES IT.
This is the secret of the fortunes made in advertised med-
icines.
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 consump-
tion 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 " Dys-
pepsia Cure " to the author, " If you have got a good med-
icine, one of value, don't put it before the public. I can
advertise dish water', and sell it, just as well as am article
of merit. It is all in the advertising." As the above prep-
arations 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 ^^f
*' 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, dis-
solve 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 ac-
count 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.
VINEGAKED BITTERS, BAH! 81
SouKED Swill.
There is an article which " smells to heaven," the acidif-
erous 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 pub-
lic" that, "if the medicine becomes sour (ferments), as it
sometimes will, being its * nature so to do,' it does not de-
tract frcjpi its medical virtues." True, true ! for it never
possessed " medical virtues."
The cost of this villanous decoction is scarcely half a cent
a bottle I Soured swill ! It is recommended to cure fifty
diflferent complaints ! It sells to fools for " one dollar a bot-
tle," and will go through one like so much quicksilver.
"Try a bottle," if you doubt it. The "dodge " is in adver-
tising it as a temperance bitter. Having no alcoholic prop-
erties, 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 con-
versation 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."
82
THE SAXFERILLA HUMBUG.
*'Why, no ; not all sarsaparilla ; you must admit — "
"No difference. I tell you it's a pesky humbug, all of it."
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, —
" Wh^s in the medical books it has been analyzed, and"
they say it's nothin' but sugar-house molasses, cheap whis-
key, and a sprinkling of essence of Avintergreen and sax-
IT'S ALL A HUMBUG."
afras. 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
S. p. TOWNSEND. 83
speculators see he was doiu' 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 ofi'forthe original, Simon Pure
saxferilla man. So they advertised him as the real ginuino
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 counter-
feit, and finding in a store a bottle or two that had fo^nenled,
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
84 WILKIE COLLINS' "NO NAME."
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, hydro-
cyanic acid (prussic acid, a virulent poison) and morphine,
or opium, constitute the medical properties. I have not ex-
amined 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 pur-
chase 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 dimg 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
Wrasfore to Ma<?dalen in this connection.
CO o
" 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
NO LAUGHING MATTER. 85
the public's stomach. Stomach and sympathy, sympathy
and stomach. The founders of my fortune are three in num-
ber : 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 {Requies-
catinpace) 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 pur-
chased 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 ad-
vertisement which I am not making to the unfortunate pub-
lic 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 thea-
tre — I flutter down from the galleries in yellow. The mere
titles of my advertisements are (^uite 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. Be-
hind 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
86 BEFORE AND AFTER.
twenty making the boxes. At the bottom of the shop nre
three elderly accountants, posting the vast financial transac-
tions 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 enter-
prise. 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 fol-
lowing inscription : ^ Before she took the pill,' etc."
[In this country we are familar 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 ad-
vertisements. We turn in disgust from their glaring state-
ments, 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 ofiice : the lobbies are employed for the exposition, per-
haps sale, of the patent medicines. We open our box : " O,
we've a large mail to-day ! " we exclaim ; when, lo ! half of
Ifte envelopes contain jDatent medicine advertisements,
which have been run through the post ofiice into every man's
box in the department. And so it goes all day. We break-
fast 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.
2s. 6d. .a PILL! 87
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, — threat-
ened 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 "per-
sonals " in the papers, an occasional notice of a tooth-paste,
bitter, or tonic is inserted therein, thus : —
"Augustus Adolphus : 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 ser-
pent'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 "VYard, a dry Salter, 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 sup-
posed to have derived from their use, Lord Chief Baron Rey-
nolds 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 rewarded with a
solemn vote of the House of Commons protecting him from
6
88 FORGED RECOMMENDATIONS*
the interdiction of the College of Pliysicians. In addition
to the liberal fee, he asked for and obtained the privilege of
driving his carriage through St. James Park ! Notwithstand-
ing the pill, Reynolds died of his disease not long afterwards.
Henry iFielding subscribed to the wonderful efficacy of
"Tar Water," a nostrum of his da}^ but died of the disease
for which it was recommended.
Some time prior to 1780 there was published in the news-
papers 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 phj^sician, 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 af-
fixed 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 hrhyg the doctor ( ?) into universal no-
tice. 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 cer-
tificates, 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 inci^easing its sale.
In the London Medical Journal of 1806, Dr. Lettsom at-
tacked and exposed a " nervous cordial," stating that it was
a deleterious article; "that it had killed its thousands;"
OPIUM AND SOOTHING SYRUPS. 89
and further asserted thatBrodum, its proprietor, was a Jew-
ish 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 attor-
ney, agreed to withdravv 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 law3^ers' 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 sooth-
ing properties to, opium, or its salt — morphine.
From " Opium and the Opium Appetite," by Alonzo Cal-
kins, 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 syrujp! Taking one teaspoonful as the dose (that is, one
drachm), and there being eight drachms to the ounce, con-
sequently about one eighth of a grain of morphine is given
to an infant at a dose I 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, epilep-
tic 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 harm-
less article.
Butyric Ether is usually taken for a basis. Butyric ether
is manufactured from rancid butter, old rotten cheese, oi
90 SODA WATER FILTH.
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 particular-
ly 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. Sulphu-
ric 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 coch-
ineal — a bug of the tick species, from Mexico. Some-
times 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, cock-
roaches, 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, some-
times 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 iaste^ what inducement has the dealer
in soda water to use the costlier articles ?
HAIR POISONS. 91
I have a friend who sells the **piire syrups," and I pre-
sume the reader has also ; but I respectfully decline drink-
ing 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 follow-
ing 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, 6.00
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. > -^ • ^^ C Corrosive Sub., . . . 3.61 gr.
Zinc in solution, . . 0.99 " 5 ^^^^^' ^^ { 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 consider-
able 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 plas-
tered 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 patron-
ize them."
92 A. s. s.
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 al-
ways had a mortal terror of being bald, and daily examina-
tions 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 ad-
vised; 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 I after a
month's trial, sufficient hair had come out of my head to
make a respectable c7iz^wo?i.^
" I next got some of Mrs. A. S. S. Allon's — or All — some-
thing ; 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. Bil-
ious, 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 commeiidable impartiality.
A BAREFOOTED HEAD.
93
"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 ex-
claimed, 'O, mister, you're barefooted on top o' yer head I *
I had inadverteiitly removed my hat, to wipe my forehead.
BAREFOOTED ON THE TOP OF HIS HEAD."
"ThisAvas 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 preparatioUo An-
other ominous name — ^Bare-it!*
"This I also used, as directed on the label, for a month.
94 A SEA OF TROUBLES.
*I think,' I said, 'if I use it a second month, it will entirely
hare 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 Dioge-
nes, 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, 1 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 reputa-
tion, 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 re-
storer. I hastened to Lowell. I was ushered into the doc-
tor's sanctum — into the very presence of this Napoleon of
medicine-makers, the Alexander of conquered worlds — of
medical prejudices I
" 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. Flat-
tered 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 temporal O mores I
he was both bald and gray I I retired without specifying
the object of my visit."
A "KEVEREND" SCOUNDREL. 95
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 mi-
raculously or " providentially " cured of a variety of dis-
eases by a certain compound, the prescription for which he
will send free to any address, you should hesitate, until sat-
isfied 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, espe-
cially religious newspapers, a remedy he discovered while a
missionary to some foreign country, that cured him of a va-
riety of diseases, the recipe for which medicine he will send
to any address, y*?'ee 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
96
OLD "SANDS OF LIFE."
daughter. He was a tall, gaunt, profane, tobacco-chewing,
foul-mouthed fellow, with a bad impediment m his speech
from loss of palate, whose name was Oliver Phipps Brown,
a printer by trade, who formerly worked as journeyman in
the Gourant office, Hartford, Conn. The police finally got
hold of him, and broke up the swindle.
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 arti-
cles named therein, supposed to
be the Latin names of plants.
I assert that there are no such
medicines in the Materia Med-
ica, or the world. The i-everend
don't want that there should be.
Why ? Because you would not
then send to him for his " Com-
pound."
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 us 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 (ZofZ^e.^ He " will furnish it
at cost.'' Only think! How benevolent! "My means
OLD "SANDS OF LIFE.
RECIPES GRATIS. 97
make me intlepenclent." 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 cir-
cular. 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 mar-
vellous remedy "a^ 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
Canahis 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 suo^orested.
"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 ad-
vertisements."
"Admitting that they know the dishonesty of the thing, —
and how can any man endowed with common sense but see
98 RULES FOR INVALIDS.
that there is sivindle on the face of it ? — the publisher of that
advertisement is aparticeps 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 revereyid wolf, don't you see they would
expose their own weakness? This is the reason of the fel-
low'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,* "
KuLES. 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 lon-
gevity.
There are physicians who can cure every disease that flesh
is heir to — excepting one,
2. Apply in your need only to a respectable johysician.
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.
lY.
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 DOC-
TORS^. — BAKERS. — BARBERS. — '* A LUCKY DOG." — TINKERS. — ROYAL
FAVORS. — ** LITTLE CARVER DAVY." — A BUTCHER's BLOCKHEAD. — A
SWEEPING VISIT. — HOP-PED FROM OBSCURITY. — PEDAGOGUES TURN DOC-
TORS. — 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 Hal-
ford 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 ca-
pacity has been overrated, who have made doctors of them-
selves ; 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.
(99)
100 A DOCTOR "IN A HORN."
In the choice of a trade or profession, every young man
shouid 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 for 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, blow-
ing a fish-horn, and crying his 'Afresh cod an' haddock,"
who, getting tired of that loud crying and loud smelling oc-
cupation, took to blowing his horn for his "wonderful discov-
ery " of a "pasture weed," which cured every humor but
a thundering humor (one can seethe 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 iip the ointment, clapped M. D. to his name,
put out his circulars, and is now seeking whom he may de-
vour, as a physician.
BARBER DOCTORS. 101
With the h)oseness of morals and the hxxity 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 fellow^s, with a razor between their teeth and
a lancet in their hands." Doubtless some of them arrived to
usefulness in the profession. Dr. Ambrose Pare, 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 wa*s 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 sur-
geons he had gone to jM,^*
This alliance of surgery and shaving, to say nothing of
other qualifications with which they were sometimes associ-
ated, conceivably enough furnished some pretext for appren-
ticeships, since Dickey Gossip's definition of
" Shaving and tooth-drawing,
Bleeding, cabbaging, and sawing,"
was by no means always sufficiently comprehensive to in-
clude 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 rrian.
William Butts, another barber surgeon of London, was
called to attend Henry VIII., and was rewarded for his pro-
102 TAILORS AND TINKERS.
fessional services with the honor of knighthood in 1512.
Another, who was knighted by Henry VIII., was John Ay-
liffe, a sheriff, formerly a merchant of Black well Hall.
Royalty had a chronic habit of knighting quacks. Queen
Anne became so charmed by a tailor, who had turned doc-
tor, and who, by some hook or crook, was called to pre-
scribe for the queen's weak eyes, that she had him sworn in,
with another knave, as her own oculist. " This lucky gen-
tleman," says a reliable author, " was William Reade, a botch-
ing 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 pompou?
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
hira the most learned and eminent physician of that genera-
tion.
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," imme-
diately after he was knighted, which has been mainly instru-
mental 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
THE QUEEN'S OCULIST.
103
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
s
^^>^> .. Y^ \-:-^-
WS^^Sm^ \0^
^B|
^r
^^^^^H^hH^^^^^^
^J
THE EYE DOCTOR.
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.'*
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
7
104 SIR HUMPHRY DAVY.
half-crowns for a few weeks, induce him to sign a testimo-
nial, which he probably had never read, that he was bora
blind, and by the providential intervention of Dr. Grant, he
had been entirely restored. To this certificate the clergy-
man and church- wardens of the parish, in which the patient
had been known to wander in mendicancy, were asked to at-
test ; and if they proved impregnable to the cunning repre-
sentations 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 Pen-
zance, 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.
MARK AKENSIDE.
105
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 butclier,
and one day, as the boy Mark was assisting at tlie menial oc-
cupation 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.
THE YOUNG SURGEON'S FIRST EXPERIENCE.
*
Akenside was a Nonconformist, and by the aid of the Dis-
senters' Society young Mark was sent to Edinburgh to study
theology. From theology he went to physic, his honest par-
ent refunding the money to the society paid for his studies
under their patronage, and he subsequently obtained his de-
gree at Cambridge, and became a fellow of the R. S.
Like Davy, Akenside became ashamed of his plebeian ori-
gin. His lameness, like Lord Byron's, was a continual
source of mortification to him.
106 HOP-PING INTO PKOSPERIXr.
He became a physician to St. Thomas ; and, as he went
with the students the rounds of the hospital, the fastidious-
ness 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 1 " 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-fed from Obscurity.
"Dr. Messenger Mousey, in the heyday of his prosperity,
used to assert to his friends that the first of his known an-
cestors 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 re-
filled 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 ob-
scurity," 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, liter-
ally, the young lady's ^m-money as much as herself. Her
father was a pin manufacturer, and had in his shop on Lon-
don Bridsre amassed a considerable wealth in the business.
DOCTOR vs. ACTOR. 107
The jolly old man, instead of disdaining to bestow the lovely
and wealthy maid — his only child — on an apprentice, ex-
claimed, —
"Jack Osborn won her, and Jack shall wear her."
When Lord Bath vainly endeavored to effect a reconcilia-
tion between the doctor and Garrick, who had fallen out,
Monsey said, —
" Why will your lordship trouble yourself with the squab-
bles 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 God-
man's Fields playhouse, October 19, 1741, as "Richard
the Third," Quin objected to Garrick's original style, say-
ing, —
"If this young fellow is right, myself and all the other
xictors are wrong."
Being told that the theatre was crowded to the dome night-
ly 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."
108 RAISING THE DEAD.
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 poi-tions 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; ♦
* 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 sugges-
tion 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., tlie 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.''
♦Dover's Powder.
DOCTORS PEDAGOGIC. Ill
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-oif
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 fin-
gers in the face of their plebeian origin, and boast of their
earlier common efi'orts 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 peda-
gogic," 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 re-
sided and labored as a pedagogue in former years, he was
esteemed as a " wise physician."
John Arbuthnot was a " Scotch pedagogue." He was dis-
tinguished 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 suc-
cess.
" Dorchester, where, as a young practitioner, he endeavored
112 FLATTERING THE QUEEN.
to establish himself, utterly refused to give him a living ; but
it doubtless," says JejifiVeson, " maintained more than one dull
empiric in opulence. Failing to get a living among the rus-
tic 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 Loudon, 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 afiec-
tion for her as an individual, as well as a loyal devotion to
her as a queen." His conversation, while it had the sem-
blance of the utmost frankness, was foaming over with flat-
tery.
" If the queen won't swallow my pills she will my flattery,*
he is said to have whispered to his friend Swift ; but this re-
port is doubtful, as he stood in fear of the displeasure of
the querulous, crotchety, weak-minded queen, who had but
recently discharged Dr. RadcliiFe for a slip of the tongue,
when at the coffee-house he had said she had the " va-pors"
"What is the hour?" asked the queen of Arbuthnot.
BLACKMER'S LAMPOONERS. 113
"Whatever hour it may please your majesty," was his
characteristic reply, with his most winuing smile and grace-
ful 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 Oxeu-
stierna, 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 gov-
erned."
AVith 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 peda-
gogue !
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
114 FREE ADVERTISING.
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 kill-
ing patients and whipping boys into blockheads are repeated
over and again ; and as if to show, with the greatest pos-
sible 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 I "
Wouldn't a young Harvard or Yale medical graduate, with-
out money, friends, or a practice, leap for joy with the
knowledge that he had two-score disinterested writers adver-
tisintr 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 pa-
tients."
The honest, upright man who rises from nothing, and con-
tinues 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 phy-
sician.
I
THE WONDERFUL QUAKER. 115
A Weaver and a Quaker Boy.
Many cases might be instanced of weavers becoming phy-
sicians, but let one suffice. John SutcliiFe, 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 intel-
ligence.
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-ap-
prentices 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 w^onderful 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 unprof-
itable 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.
116 SHARP TRICKS FOR PATRONAGE.
John Radcliffe.
John Radcliffe, the humbug, " the physician without learn-
ing," 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 immeas-
urable 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 ^^ basJcet-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 w^ith 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 prog-
nostication.
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
MARAT'S REMARKABLE BIRTH. 117
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 prac-
tice 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 horn triplets!
Yes, though "born of parents entirely unknown to his-
tory," 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,
throuo^h 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 Miihlbach, 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 ques-
tioner. 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 lau2:hed outrio:ht.
118 AN UGLY TOAD.
"'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, green-
ish 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 pov-
erty at a time when he could have become immensely rich
by selling his silence.
PETER PINDAR. 119
The death of this wretch was hastened only a few days by
his assassination, for he was already consumed by a dis-
gusting disease, and it is melancholy to add that he was
adored after his death, and his remains deposited in the Pan-
theon with national honors, and an altar erected to his mem-
ory 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 her-
self 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 physi-
cian, private secretary, and chaplain to the governor's house-
hold. Dr. Wolcot's professional knowledge had been ac-
quired 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
120
THE SPORTING PARSON.
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.
ThE PArtoON BUYING OFF THE " CONGREGATiON.
One old negro, more cunning than the rest, and who dis-
covered 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."
A POLICEMAN AS MIDWIFE. 121
" Wouldn't a hit or two serve you as well ? " asked the
rector, with a wink.
"Well, masser, dis chile lub de good sarmon ob yer rev-
erence, 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 negro would grin
his thanks, and, chuckling to himself, retire ; and for a year
or more this sort of black-mdWmg was continued.
Tiring of acting as priest, Wolcot returned to London,
and vainly endeavored to establish himself in practice.
Neither preaching nor practising physic was his forte, and
he resorted to the pen. Here he discovered his genius.
Adopting the nom de plume of " Peter Pindar," he became
famous as a political satirist, and the author of numerous
popular works. He died in London in 1819. Wolcot pos-
sessed a kindly heart, and a benevolence deeper than his
pockets.
Policemen as Doctors and Surgeons.
Some very laughable scenes, as well as very touching and
painful ones, might be recorded, had we space, where police-
men have necessarily been unceremoniously summoned to
act as physician or surgeon in absence of a " regular."
In Portland, the police have to turn their hand to most
everything. Circumstances beyond his control compelled
one Mr. J. S. to act the part of midwife to a strapping Irish
woman at the station-house, one evening, he being the sole
" committee of reception " to a bouncing baby that came along
somewhat precipitately. The account, which is well authen-
ticated, closes by saying, —
"Mother, baby, and officer are doing as well as can be
expected ! "
We have seen the "officer." He did better than was
"expected."
The writer was on a Fulton ferry boat in the winter of
8
122
A DEMONSTRATIVE DUTCHMAN.
1857, when a similar scene occurred. A German woman
was taken in pain. A whisper was passed to a female pas-
senger; a policeman was summoned from outside the la-
dies' ( ?) cabin ; the male occupants were ejected, — even my-
self and another medical student, and the husband of the
patient. The latter remonstrated, and demonstrated his
objection to the momentary separation by beating and shout-
ing at the saloon door.
"Katharina! Katharina!*' he shouted, "keep up a steef
upper lips I "
This roaring attracted nearly all the men from the opposite
side of the boat, who crowded around him and the door, to
learn the cause of the Teutonic demonstrations of alternate
fear, anger, and encouragement.
" Got in himmel ! Vere you leefs ven you's t' home ?
Vich a man can't come mit his vife, altogedder? Hopen de
door, unt I preaks him mit mine feest; don't it?" So he
kept on, alternately cursing the policeman and encouraging
"Katharina," till we reached the Brooklyn side, and left the
ferry boat.
WOMAN AS PHYSICIAN.
" Angel of Patience ! sent to calm
Our feverish brow with cooling palm ;
To lay the storm of hope and fears,
And reconcile life's smile and tears ;
The throb of wounded pride to still,
And make our own our Father's will." Whittier.
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 ANEC-
DOTE. — "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.
" From the earliest asres the care of the sick has devolved
on woman. A group by one of our sculptors, representing
Eve with the body of Abel stretched upon her lap, bending
over him in bewildered grief, and striving to restore the vi-
tal spirit which she can hardly believe to* have departed, is a
type of the province of the sex ever since pain and death
entered the world.
" To be first the vehicle for human life, and then its devoted
guardian ; to remove or alleviate the physical evils which
afflict the race, or to watch their wasting, and tenderly care
for all that remains when they have wrought their result —
this is her divinely appointed and universally conceded mis-
sion.
(123)
124 ^ WOMAN'S MISSION.
" Were she to refuse it, to forsake her station beside the
suffering, the office of medicine and the efforts of the physi-
cian would be more than half baflled. And yet, where her
post is avowedly so important, she has generally been denied
the liberty of understanding much that is involved in its in-
telligent occupancy. With the human body so largely in
her charge from birth to death, she is not allowed to inquire
into its marvellous mechanism. With the administering of
remedies intrusted to her vigilance and faithfulness, she has
not been allowed to investigate the qualities, or even know
the names or the operations of those substances committed
to her use. To be a student with scientific thoroughness,
and to practise independently with what she has thus acquired,
has been regarded as unseemly, or as beyond her capacity, or
as an invasion of prerogatives claimed exclusively for men.
"Indeed, the whole domain of medicine has been ^pre-
empted* by men, and in their ^squatter sovereignty* they
have sturdily warned off the gentler sex.'' — Rev. H. B.
Elliot, in " Eminent Women of the Age J**
It seems to my mind, and ought to every thinking mind,
to be ridiculously absurd that " man born of woman " should
set up his authority against woman understanding "herself."
"Man, know thyself," is stereotyped, but if it ever was put in
type form for " woman to know herself, " it has long since
been "^^ecZ."
" Search the Scriptures," and you would never mistrust
that " eternal life," or any other life, came, or existed a day,
through woman. Mythological writers, who come next to
scriptural, give woman no credit in medical science. We
will except Hygeia, the goddess of health, the fabled daugh-
ter of ^sculapius. In the medical history of no country
does she occupy any prominence. There were " Witches,"
" Enchantresses," " Wise Women," " Fortune-tellers," who
in every age have existed to no small extent, and under
various names have figured in the histories of all nations,
ENGLISH PEMALE PHYSICIANS. ' 125
receiving the countenance of prince and beggar — but females
as physicians, as a class, have never been recognized by na-
tions or governments, or scarcely by communities or individ-
uals.
In searching the memorials of English authors for two
hundred years past, we can find but little to disprove the
above assertions. In Mr. Jeaflfreson's " Book of Doctors,"
the author fails to find memorials of their actions, as fe-
male physicians, suflScient to fill a single chapter ; and those
of whom he has made mention, he discourses of mostly
in a ridiculous light, as though entirely out of their sphere,
or as being of the coarser sort, and questions " if two score
could be rescued from oblivion whom our ancestors intrusted
with the care of their invalid wives and children."
In this connection, let us briefly mention such as are better
known in English literature, aa doctresses especially as men-
tioned by Mr. Jeaflfreson.
Two ladies, who are immortalized in " Philosophical Trans-
actions for 1694," were Sarah Hastings and Mrs. French.''
Another, who received the support of bishops, dukes, lords,
countesses, etc., in 1738-9, was Mrs. Joanna Stephens, "an
ignorant and vulgar creature." After enriching herself by her
specifics, consisting of a "pill, a powder and a decoction,"
she bamboozled the English Parliament into purchasing the
secret, for the (then) enormous sum of £5000. "The Pow-
der consists of eggshells and snails, both calcined."
"The decoction is made by boiling together Alicant soap,
swine's-cresses burnt to a blackness, honey, camomile, fennel,
parsley, and burdock leaves." " The pill consists of snails,
wild carrot and burdock seeds, ashen keys, hips, and haws,
all burnt to a blackness ; soap and honey."
When we take into consideration the fact that there were
no "medical schools for females," at that day, nor until
within the last ten or twelve years, that every female ap-
plicant was rejected by the medical colleges of England,
126 HEEEDITARY WOODEN LEGS.
and that all female practitioners were held in disrepute by
both physician and the public, the above repulsive reme-
dies may not so greatly excite our surprise,
"Crazy Sally."
The most remarkable woman doctor made mention of in
English literature, was Mrs. Mapp, nee Sally Wallin.
We have collected these facts respecting her origin, charac-
ter, and career, from Chambers' Miscellany and the Gentle-
men's Magazine, 1736-7. Hogarth has immortalized her in
his " Undertaker's arms." She is placed at the top of that
picture, between Josh Ward, the Pill doctor, and Chevalier
Taylor, the quack oculist. (See page. Q>Q>^.)
She was born in Weltshire, in 169-. Her father was a
" bone-setter," which occupation " run in the family," like that
of the Sweets, of Connecticut, or like the marine whom
Mrs. Mapp saw one day, as she, in her carriage, was driving
"along the Strand, O."
Said sailor having a wooden leg, the doctress asked, " How
does it happen, fellow, that you've a wooden leg."
" O, easy enough, madam ; my father had one before me.
It sort o' runs in the family, marm," was the laconic reply.
From a barefooted school-girl at Weltshire, where Sally
obtained barely the rudiments of a common education, she
became her father's assistant in bone-setting and manipula-
ting.
The next we hear of Miss Wallin, is at Epsom, where she
became known as " Crazy Sally." She has been described
as a "very coarse, large, vulgar, illiterate, drunken, bawling
woman," " known as a haunter of fairs, about which she loved
to reel, screaming and abusive, in a state of roaring intoxica-
tion."
It is astonishing as true, that this unattractive specimen
of the female sex became so esteemed in Epsom, where she
set up as a physician, that the town offered her £100 to
THE WOMAN BONE-SETTER. 127
remain there a year ! The newspapers sounded her praise,
the gentry, even, lauded her skill, and physicians witnessed
her operations.
" Crazy Sally," awoke one morning and found herself fa-
mous. Patients of rank and wealth flocked from every
quarter. Attracted by her success and her accumulating
wealth, rather than by hevbeauti/ or amiable disposition, an
Epsom swain made her an ofier of marriage, which she, like a
woman, accepted. This fellow's name was Mapp, who lived
with her but for a fortnight, during which time ho " thrashed
her "(or she him, it is not just clear which) " three times," and
' appropriating all of her spare change, amounting to five hun-
dred dollars, he took to himself one half of the world, and
quietly left her the other. Our informant adds, "She
found consolation for her wounded affections in the homage
of the world. She became a notoriety of the first water ;
every day the public journals gave some interesting account
of her, and her remarkable operations."
The Grub Street Journal of that period said, ''The re-
markable cures of the woman bone-setter, Mrs. Mapp, are
too numerous to enumerate. Her bandages are extraordina-
rily neat, and her dexterity in reducing dislocations and frac-
tures most wonderful. She has cured persons who have
been twenty years disabled." Her patients were both male
and female. Some of her most difficult operations were
performed before physicians of eminence.
Her carriage was splendid, on the panels of which were
emblazoned her coat of arms. Eegularly every week she
visited London in this magnificent chariot drawn by four
superb, cream- white horses, attended by servants, arrayed
in gorgeous liveries. She put up at the Grecian Coffee-
House, and forthwith her rooms would be thronged by in-
valids.
Notices of her were not always of the most complimentary
sort. Being one day detained by a cart of coal that was un-
128
MRS. MAPP'S ARMS.
loading in a narrow street of the metropolis, on which occa-
sion she was arrayed in a loosely fitting robe-de-chambre, with
large flowing sleeves, which set ofi" her massive proportion
most conspicuously, she let down the windows of her car-
riage, and leaning her bare arms upou the door, she impa-
tiently exclaimed, —
" Fellow, how dare you detain a lady of rank thus ? "
" A lady of rank ! " sneered the coal-man.
" Yes, you villain I " screamed the enraged doctress.
'* Don't you observe the arms of Mrs. Mapp on the carriage ?"
im g
DONT YOU OBSERVE THE ARMS OF MRS. MAPP?
" Yes — I do see the arms," replied the impudent fellow,
"and a pair of durned coarse ones they are, to be sure."
On another occasion she was riding up Old Kent Road,
dressed as above described. "Her obesity, immodest attire,
intoxication, and dazzling equipage were, in the eyes of the
mob, so sure signs of royalty, that she was taken for a court
lady, of German origin, and of unpopular repute. The
crowd gathered about her carriage, and with oaths and yells
were about to demolish the windows with clubs and stones,
when the nowise alarmed occupant, like Nellie Gwynn, on a
FEMALE MEDICAL COLLEGES. 129
similar occasion, rose in her seat, and, with imprecations
more emphatic than polite, exclaimed, —
" you! Don't you know Avho I am? I am Mrs.
Sally Mapp, the celebrated bone-setter of Epsom ! "
" This brief address so tickled the humor of the rabble that
the lady was permitted to proceed on her way, amid deafening
acclamations and laughter."
This famous woman's career may be likened to a rocket.
She flashed before the people as suddenly, ascended as bril-
liantly to the zenith of fame, and fell like the burned, black-
ened stick.
Mrs. Mapp spent her last days in poverty, wretchedness, and
obscurity, at " Seven Dials," where she died almost unat-
tended, on the night of December 22, 1737. Her demise was
thus briefly announced in the journals : —
** Died at her lodgings, near Seven Dials, last week, Mrs.
Mapp, the once much-talked-of bone-setter of Epsom, so
wretchedly poor that the parish was obliged to bury her."
Mr. Jeaftreson makes mention of two more " female doc-
tors ; " one an honest widow, mother of " Chevalier Taylor,'*
who, at Norwich, carried on a respectable business as an
apothecary and doctress, and Mrs. Colonel Blood, who, at
Romford, supported herself and son by keeping an apothe-
cary shop.
American Female Physicians.
Perhaps English authors and English readers may be satis-
fied to allow the above meagre and unenviable array of pre-
tenders to stand on record as the representatives of " female
doctors " in their liberal and enlightened country ! Americans
can boast of a better representative.
While England claims a "Female Medical Society," and one
" Female Medical College," the United States has several of
the former, and three regularly chartered " Female Medical
Colleges." In a recent announcement of the English college,
130 AMERICAN FEMALE PHYSICIANS.
it claims fifty students, " but the aim of the whole movement
is at present only to furnish competent midwives."
The "Maternity Hospital," of Paris (which existed long
before the late Franco-Prussian war, but which we can learn
nothing of since the fall of that once beautiful city) , " afforded
some opportunity for observation, receiving females nomi-
nally as students, but they were not allowed to prescribe in
the wards, nor were they instructed in regard to the use and
properties of the remedies there prescribed. Indeed, they
can hardly rise above the position of proficient nurses,"
says our informant.
Some few medical colleges of the United States are admit-
ting females on the same footing as the heretofore more
favored " lords of creation."
A female college has been in existence in Philadelphia for
above twenty years. The " New England Female Medical
College " was chartered in 185G ; but the " regular " colleges,
as Yale, Harvard, etc., refuse all female applicants.
New York has been more liberal towards the gentler sex.
At Geneva, Rochester, Syracuse, and elsewhere, as early as
1849-50, medical schools of the more liberal sort, but of
undoubted respectability and legal charters, opened their doors
to female students. In 1869 the New York Female Medical
College was chartered, since which time more than two hun-
dred ladies have therein received medical instruction.
In all the principal cities of the Union may be found from
sue to a dozen respectably educated and successful female
practitioners, who have attained to some eminence in spite
of the opposition of the " faculty," and the ignorant prejudices
of the common people.
It is surprising how early and persistently some men for-
get that they were " born of woman ! " Their contempt of
the capabilities of womankind would lead one to suppose
them to be ashamed of their own mothers. Mark Twain's
facetious but instructive speech, once delivered before an edi-
WHAT IS WOMAN? 131
torial gathering in Boston, ought to be rehearsed to them
daily ; yes, and enforced by petticoat government upon their
notice till it became stereotyped into their stupid brains.
Mark says,
" What, sir, would the peoples of the earth be without
woman? They would be scarce, sir, — almighty scarce!
(Laughter.) Then let us cherish her; let us protect her;
let us give her our support, our encouragement, our sympa-
thy, — our — selves, if we get a chance.
"But, jesting aside, Mr. President, woman is gracious, lov-
able, kind of heart, beautiful, worthy of all respect, of all
esteem, of all deference. Not any here will refuse to drink
her health right cordially, for each and everyone of us has
personally known, and loved, and honored the very best of
them all, — his own mother!''
Sarah B. Chase, M. D., a respectable and successful female
physician of Ohio, gives the following excellent advice : —
" I would not encourage any woman to study medicine,
with the expectation of practising, who is not ready and will-
ing — ay, anxious and determined — to go through the
same severe drill of preparation, the same thorough disci-
pline, as is required of man before he is crowned with the
honors of an M. D."
A Female Pioneer.
Among the first successful female physicians of Boston,
w^here she was born in 1805, is Harriot K. Hunt, M. D. Her
father was a shipping merchant, who, by honesty and up-
rightness died comparatively poor, for riches are not always
to the upright. Her mother is described by Kev. H. B. Elliot,
" as one possessing a mind of remarkable qualities, ar-
gumentative, practical, independent, and, withal, abound-
ing in tenderness and genial brightness." In 1830 we find
Miss Himt not only thrown upon her resources for her own
livelihood (her father having left but barely the house that
132 A BOSTON DOCTRESS.
gave them shelter to be called their own), but the support and
care of an only and invalid sister, somewhat her junior, were
also entirely dependent upon her labors. As a school teacher
she met the former, as a student and nurse she finally sur-
mounted the latter. " What ! more pedagogues turned doc-
tors?"
After nearly three years' employment of various physi-
cians on the part of the elder sister, and the extreme suffer-
ing from the " distressing and complicated disease," and,
what was worse, the " severest forms of prescriptions of the
old school of physic " for the same time by the younger sis-
ter, the Misses Hunt were led to investigate for themselves.
They purchased medical works, which they read early and late.
In 1833 Harriot leased her house, and entered the office
of a doctress, Mrs. Mott by name, in the double capacity of
secretary and student. The younger sister became a patient
of Mrs. Mott's. The husband of Mrs. Mott was an English
physician, who, with his wife to attend the female portion
of his patients, had established himself in Boston. Mrs.
Mott was without a thorough medical education. " She
made extravagant claims to medical skill in the treatment of
cases regarded as hopeless." In 1835 Dr. Mott died, and
Mrs. Mott returned to England. Under the treatment of
the latter the invalid sister had so much improved in health
as to be able to " walk the streets for the first time in three
years ; " yet where is the " old school doctor," or the veriest
charlatan, that would give her the credit she so seemingly
deserved in this case. Both were her opponents. Even the
students of the neighboring medical school were "pitted
against her." The old adage respecting his Satanic majesty
having the credit due him, did not seem to apply to her case.
But Mrs. Mott was more than a match for their cunning, if
not for their scientific theorizings, as the following anecdote
will show.
" Three wise men of Gotham," that amiable lady, Mrs.
A PECULIAR CASE. 133
Goose, tells us, " went to sea in a bowl ; and had the bowl
been stronger, my song would have been longer." This has
its parallel in the three wise students of H , who laid
their wise heads together, and went to see — Mrs. Mott, the
doctress, of Hanover Street. One was to pretend that he
had some peculiar disease, for which he, with his anxious
friends, wished to consult the " wise woman." They entered
the doctor's office, and demanded to see the doctress. This
was an open insult to the woman, as she only gave her at-
tention to females and children. Nevertheless, Mrs. Mott,
whose olfactory nerves were not so obtuse as to prevent her
from distinguishing the aroma of that peculiar little animal
quadruped of the genus Mus, obeyed the summons, and en-
tered the presence of the three wise JEsculapians.
Now the fun began. Not the fun that was to be at the
expense of the " ignorant old female quack," however.
One of the gentlemen arose, and after a profound bow,
began, with some embarrassment, to state his case.
"But wait just a moment," the 'doctress interrupted.
"You intimate that it is a peculiar case. My fee for con-
sultation in such cases is three dollars. Please hand over
the money, and proceed."
This was an unexpected demand. They had thought to
have a little fun, expose the woman's ignorance, and have a
" huge thing" to tell to their class-fellows, and not pay for it!
Mrs. Mott was a woman, but she possessed powerful mag-
netic influence, and held fast to the point, viz., her fee for
consultation ; and to the chagrin of the patient ( ? ), and the
astonishment of his chums, the three dollars were paid over
to the doctress.
"Now, sir, you will please state your case," said the lady,
pocketing the fee, adjusting her eye-glasses, and seating
herself for a consultation.
"Yes. Well — it is a — a peculiar case," stammered the
patient.
134
CURING AN INVALID.
'* You have informed me of that point before. Please pro-
ceed," remarked the doctress with great complacency to the
embarrassed fellow.
" It's a delicate case," he bliishingly replied.
"O, indeed ; then step into this private consulting room ; "
and arising, she led the way to an inner office, where the
young man involuntarily followed, greatly to the amusement
of the two remaining students, who remarked," It is getting
blamed hot for us here."
THREE WISE STUDENTS CONSULTING A DOCTRESS.
In a moment, the invalid — greatly improved, one might
judge, from his agility, — rushed from the private sanctum
with a bound, grasped his hat from the table, exclaiming,
"Come on, for God's sake ! " and rushed from the house, fol-
lowed by his now thoroughly affrighted companions.
"What's the matter? What did the old tarantula say to
you?" demanded the young man's chums, when well outside
of the web into which they had so impudently intruded
themselves.
FEMALE PERSEVERANCE. 135
" Don't you ever ask me," he vociferated. " A pretty
mess 3'ou got me into. But if either of you ever again mis-
take that old woman for a fool, I hope to God she'll take
you into her private consulting room."
But to return to Miss Hunt and her sister. In 1855 or
'56 the sisters opened an office in Boston. As with all
young physicians without "dead men's shoes," professional
support, or wealthy and influential friends to back them,
jDatients gathered slowly at first, but with a steady increase,
the care of whom soon devolved entirely upon Harriot, as
her sister married, and retired from practice.
In 1847 she had an extensive practice among a wealthy
and influential class of people, which many an older physi-
cian of the sterner sex might envy. With a large practical
knowledge, acquired in -twelve years' experience, she applied
to Harvard College for permission to attend a course of
medical lectures. She was refused admission. In 1850
she again applied. The officers consented this time, but the
students offered such objections to the admission of females
into their presence, that Miss Hunt generously declined to
avail herself of the long-coveted opportunity.
"The Female Medical College," at Philadelphia, in 1853,
granted Miss Hunt an honorary degree. . . . She is now in
the midst of an extensive practice. Miss Hunt has lived a
glorious, self-denying life, upholding her sister co-laborers,
and the "dignity of the profession," never demeaning her-
self by stooping to sell her knowledge, by any of those dis-
reputable practices that mark the avaricious M. D., the char-
latan, the parasites, and the leeches of the profession, both
male and female.
Among eighty-five "female physicians" (?) of Boston,
eighteen claim to be graduates of some college. We know
of several who deserve a favorable mention here, but present
limits will uot admit.
136 mrs. c. s. lozier, m. d.
New York Female Doctors.
In New York city there are upwards- of two hundred
so-called "female physicians," about eighty per cent, of
whom, according to the best authority, — police reports,
etc., — subsist by vampirism I Here, in this chapter, I shall
mention a few of the really meritorious ones, reserving the
large majority to be " shown up " under the various chapters
as " fortune-tellers," " clairvoyants," and "astrologers."
The subject of the following imperfect, because brief,
sketch, — Mrs. C. S. Lozier, M. D., — late of New York
city, was born in Plainfield, New Jersey, in 1813. Her
maiden name was Clemence S. Harned. Her father was a
farmer by occupation, and a member of the Methodist
church. Her amiable and excellent mother was a Quakeress.
" Why should Mrs. Lozier, a gentle, modest, unambitious,
home-loving woman, have chosen the calling of a physi-
cian?" asks her biographer. My answer would be, "She
was a creature of circumstances." Another, in view of the
facts to be related, would say, ^^ It was her destiny J^
The valuable information which Mrs. Lozier gained, as a
Quakeress, amongst that herbalistic people with which she
was early associated, with study and practical observation
enabled her to " act efficiently as a nurse and attendant upon
the sick and afflicted of the neighborhood."
The elder brother of Miss Clemence, William Harned,
was a physician, as also were two of her cousins. In 1830
she was married to Mr. Lozier, and removed to New York.
Her husband's health failing, and having no other support,
Mrs. Lozier opened a select school, which she kept success-
fully till after the death of Mr. Lozier, in 1837.
" During this period she read medicine with her brother.
When her pupils were sick, she would generally be called in
before a physician. She also was connected with the ' Moral
Reform Society,' with Mrs. Margaret Pryor, and visited
A FEMALE SURGEON. 137
the sick and abandoned, often prescribing for them in
sickness."
Mrs. Lozier graduated at the Eclectic College, of Syra-
cuse, in 1853, having attended her first course of lectures at
the Central College, Rochester. From that time until her
death, in 1870, she continued to minister to the sick and af-
flicted in the city of New York.
At the commencement of this article we stated that Mrs.
Lozier was a modest woman. This she continued to be to
the end. Those leading physicians who often met her in con-
sultation, with the thousands of patients who from time to
time have been under her treatment, the students before
whom she lectured during several years, the numerous friends
who thronged her parlors, and the Christian professors with
whom she mingled, — all, all testify to this fact. "She
denied both the expediency and practicability of mingling
the sexes " in deriving a medical education. " Woman phy-
sician for women," was her motto. It was not alwaj^s possi-
ble for her to refuse to prescribe for male patients, as many
can testify. The efforts of some, far down in the scale of life,
to connect the name of Mrs. Lozier with those disreputable
practices by which the majority of female physicians — the
parasites of the profession — subsist, yea, even gain a com-
petence, in this city, and, consequently, respectability^ —
"for gold buys friends," — have utterly failed, and her name
to-day, as it ever will, stands out boldly as belonging to
one who was a self-denying. God-fearing, honorable, and suc-
cessful female practitioner.
Mrs. Lozier is said to have been a skilful surgeon, " hav-
ing performed upwards of one hundred and twenty capital
operations." In 1867-8 Mrs. L. visited Europe, where she
was received with great marks of esteem by eminent men, and
admitted to the hospitals.
Her son, Dr. A. W. Lozier, is in practice in New York
city. .
9
138 NEW YORK DOCTRESSES.
Doctors Elizabeth and Emily Blackwell.
The first female who received a medical diploma from any
college in the United States was Miss Elizabeth Blackwell.
This lady, who now stands only second in years. of experi-
ence to Miss Hunt, of Boston, and second to no female in
medical knowledge and usefulness, came to this country from
England in 1831, when she was ten years of age. [A lady,
of whom I made some inquiries respecting the above, assured
me " it was only those females who were eligible as nurses,
or prospective widowhood, which would make them eligible,
were desirous of concealing their true age."]
Being persuaded that her " mission " was to heal the sick,
Miss Elizabeth applied, by writing, to six different physicians
for advice as to the best means to obtain an education, and
received from all the reply that it was "impracticable," utter-
ly impossible, for a female to obtain a medical education ;
"the proposition eccentric," "Utopian," etc.
It required just this sort of opposition to draw out the true
character, and arouse the hidden abilities of such women as
the Misses Blackwell.
Elizabeth, while supporting herself by giving music les-
sons in Charleston, S. C, received regular medical instruction
from S. H. Dixon, M. D., a gentleman and scholar, well known
to the entire profession of two continents ; also from Drs.
John Dixon, Allen, and Warrington, the two latter in Phila-
delphia. Being considered by these gentlemen competent.
Miss Blackwell applied to the medical schools of Philadel-
phia and New York for admission as a medical student, by
all of which she was rejected " because she was a female."
Finally she gained admission to the College at Geneva, N. Y.,
and graduated in 1848. Are the males the only "oppres-
sors " of the gentler sex? No, no ; woman is woman's own
worst enemy.
Miss Blackwell was two years in Geneva, and so violent
FEMALE OPPOSITION. 139
was the opposition of her own sex, that no lady in Geneva
wonld make her acquaintance while there. "Common civil-
ities at the table, even, were denied me." Entirely differ-
ent was the treatment which she received at the hands of the
students and professors of the college. " Here she found
nothing but friendliness and decorum, and, on the eve of her
graduation, the cordiality of the students in making way for
her to receive her diploma, and pleasantly indicating their
congratulations, was marked and respectful.'*
The following morning her parlor was thronged with ladies.
Miss Elizabeth Black well visited London and Paris, and
was entered as student at St. Bartholomew's, and also at
" La Maternite'' (The Maternity) .
She returned to New York, and, notwithstanding "she
found a blank wall of social and professional antagonism
facing the woman physician, which formed a situation of sin-
gular loneliness, leaving her without support, respect, or
counsel," she gained a foothold, and a respectable and living
practice soon began to flow in and crown her persistent efforts.
Now her sister Emily commenced the study of medicine,
first with Elizabeth, subsequently with Dr. Davis, of Cin-
cinnati Medical College. In 1852 she and her sister were
permitted to attend upon some of the wards (female, we pre-
sume) of Bellevue Hospital. In 1854 Emily graduated at
Cleveland College (Eclectic, I think).
Through their united efforts the " New York Infirmary for
Women and Children " was established. " Up to the present
time over fifty thousand patients have received prescriptions
and personal care by this means." Contrary to Mrs. Lozier,
" they are firm in their conviction of the expediency of
mingling the sexes in all scholastic training. In their mode
of practice they adopt the main features of the * regular ' sys-
tem." Nearly all other physicians are rather of the Eclectic
system. Like Miss Hunt, " she was bound by no regular
school, as none had indorsed her."
140 A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION.
There are many contemporaries of Miss Plunt and the sis-
ters Black well whom we might mention, but the history of
one is the history of the whole, so far as early struggles, op-
position of the profession, and neglect and disrespect of their
own sex, is concerned.
Frances S. Cooke, M. D.,'of the "Female Medical Col-
lege," East Concord Street, Boston, Mrs. Jackson, Lucy
Sewall, M. D., recently returned from Europe, and a half-
score others of Boston, much deserve more than a passing
notice, but our limited space will not permit. Also, Hannah
E. Longshore, M. E. Zakezewska, of New York, Miss Jane
E. Myers, M. D., Mrs. Mary F. Thomas, M. D. (Camden,
Ind.), Miss Ann Preston, M. D., of Philadelphia, Mrs. An-
nie Bo wen, of Chicago, and others, "too numerous to men-
tion," who, in spite of the opposition from their own sex,
from the profession, and the public in general, have gained
a name and a competency through their professional eflbrts.
" A woman's intellectual incapacity and her ph3'sical weak-
ness will ever disqualify her for the duties of the medical
profession," wrote Dr. , of Pennsylvania.
Edward H. Dixon, M. D., of New York, in an article
published in the *' Scalpel" shows, by uncontroverted argu-
ments and facts, that the male child, at birth, "in original
organic strength," holds only an equal chance with the fe-
male ; that " the chances of health for the two sexes at the
outset are equal, and so continue till the period when they
first attain the full use of their legs."
Ask the mother of a family if the labor pains show any
respect of sex.
:Does not the female show as strong lungs as the male in
lis^earMest disapprobation of this unceremonious world? How
about the comparative strength exhibited in the demonstra-
tions. of each when the lacteal fluid is not forthcoming in pro-
portion to the appetite?
Let us .consult Dr. Dixon further, — and charge it to the
.females:!
BOYS WILL BE BOYS.
141
*' We give the girl two years' start of the boy, — we shall
see why as we proceed. Both have endured the torture of
bandagmg, pinning (pricking), and tight dressing; both
have been rocked, jounced on the knee, papped, laudanumed,
paregoricked, castor oiled, suffocated with bhinkets over the
head, sweltered with cap and feather bed, roasted at a fire of
anthracite, dosed according to the formula of some superan-
nuated doctor or * experienced nurse,' or both, for these
people usually hunt in couples, and are very gracious to each
other. We give the girl.the start to make up for the benefit
the boy has derived from chasing the cat, rolling on the
floor, or sliding down the balustrade, and the torture she
had endured from her sampler, and being compelled to *sit
up straight, and not be hoidenish,^ "
POH ! YOU'RE A GIRL.
" Well, they are off to school. Observe how circumspectly
our little miss must walk, chiding her brother for being 'too
rude.' He, nothing daunted, (with a ^ Poh! you're a girV ),
starts full tilt after an unlucky pig or a stray dog. If he
tumbles into the mud and soils his clothes the result is soon
visible in increase of lungs and ruddy cheeks."
142 GIRLS MUST BE LADIES.
"Ill school the boy has the advantage. The girl 'mustn't
loll/ must sit up erect, the limbs hanging down, her feet
probably not reaching the floor, and the spinal column must
bear the main support for three to six hours ! The boy gets
relief in * shying * an occasional paper ball across the room,
hitching about, and drawing his legs upon the seat, or stick-
ing a pin in his neighbor, and a good run and jump at re-
cess, changing the monotony of the recreation by an occa-
sional fight after school. At dinner the girl has had no
exercise to create an appetite, and her meal is made up of
pastry and dessert. * Remember that her muscles move the
limbs, and are composed chiefly of azote, and it is the red
meat, or muscle of beef or mutton, that she would eat if
she had any appetite for it, that is to say, if her stomach
and blood-vessels would endure it. The fact is, the child
has fever and loathes meat,'' "
While the boy, hat in hand, rushes to the common or rear
yard to roll hoop, fly his kite, or, in winter, to skate or coast
down hill, the girl is reminded that she has " one whole hour to
practise at the piano," either in a darkened room, from whence
all God's sunshine is excluded, cold and cheerless, or the
other extreme — seated near a heated register, from which
the dry, poisonous fumes belch forth, destroying the pure
oxygen she requires to inflate her narrowing lungs, and in-
crease the fibrine, the muscle, and strength necessary to the
exhausting exercise. She closes the day by eating a bit of
cake and a plate of preserves.
The hungry, "neglected" boy has returned, and, with
swift coursing blood, strength of muscle and brain, catches
a glance at his neglected lesson, comprehending it all the
quicker by the change he has enjoyed, bawls boisterously for
some cold meat, or something hearty, and tumbles into his
bed, forgetting to close the door or window ; whereas the girl
must be attended to her room, "she is so delicate," and,
beinof tucked well la on a swelterinor feather bed, and bound
IGNORANCE AND WEAKNESS. 143
down by heavy blankets, the doors and windows are carefully
secured, and, committed to the "care of Providence," she is
left to swelter till to-morrow.
The period for a great change arrives, often catching the
poor, uninformed girl completely by surprise. Furthermore,
the constant deprivation of her natural requirements — pure
air, wholesome, nntritious food, unrestrained limbs and
lungs — now become more apparent. In spite of the con-
stant drilling which she has received, she feels exceedingly
gauche. Her face is alternately pale and flushed ; she suf-
fers from headache, — "a rush of blood to the head." Stays
and tight-lacing have weakened the action of the heart, cut
off the circulation to the extremities, and deprived those
parts of blood which now require the nutriment necessary to
their strength and support in the time of their greatest
need.
The ignorant mother sends for a physician, perhaps almost
as ignorant as herself; or, what is still worse, being a miser-
able time-server, seeing the admirable opportunity for mak-
ing a bill, straightway commences a course of deception and
quackery that, if it do not result in the death of the unfortu-
nate patient, leaves her a miserable creature for life, w^ith
spinal curvature or consumption ; or worse, by confinement
and medication destroy her chance of restoration ; and
should some unlucky and ignorant young man take her
as wife, and she become a mother, she surely will drag out
a wretched existence as a victim to uterine displacement
and its concomitant results.
Physically, morally, and intellectually woman is not born
inferior to man. We have briefly shown where and how
she has fallen behind in the race of life in a physical view
of the matter. The intellectual sense has kept pace only
with the physical. Morally woman stands alone ; by her
own strength or weakness she stands or falls. Man scarcely
upholds or encourages her. Her own sex, we have herein-be-
144 WOMAN'S WRONGS.
fore stated, is woman's own worst enemy ! " Be thou as chaste
as ice, or pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny," and
if she fall, who shall restore her? The whole world is
against her; one half makes her what she is, the other's
scorn and neglect keeps her thus ! The " ballot " will not
keep woman from falling, nor raise her when fallen. The
"church" does not exempt woman from the wiles of men,
nor its adherents raise the fallen to their pristine strength,
beauty, and respectability ! Though Christ, the lowly, the
magnanimous, said, ^^ Neither do I condemn thee" his fol-
lowers (?) cannot lay their hands upon their hearts and
repeat his gracious words. Where is the fallen woman
whom the church (not Roman Catholic) ever took in with
that good faith and spirit of sisterly love or brotherly affec-
tion, with which a fallen man can, and is, often received into
the church and into society?
Echo answers, "Where?"
O, deny this who will ! It is no " attack upon the church ; "
merely a lamentably truthful statement.
The church, like society, withdraws her skirts from contact
with the fallen sister. " She is a wreck, drifted upon our
shore, for which God holds some one accountable. Not a
wreck that can be restored — not a wreck that money or re-
pentance can atone for." (What ! not money? Then surely
she is lost, and forever!) "The damage is beyond earthly
knowledge to estimate, beyond human power of indemnifica-
tion. If ever the erring soul shall retrace her steps, it will
be Christ himself who shall lead her ; if ever peace shall
brood again over her spirit, it will be the Comforter who shall
send the white-winged dove.
"But the merest lad detects the lost woman. She carries
the evidences of her guilt (or misfortune?) in the very
clothes she wears, whether she is the richly dressed courte-
san of the Bowery, or the beggarly street-walker of the vil-
lage. There is a delicacy in, and a fine bloom on the nature
WOMAN'S RIGHTS. 145
of woman, which mipurity smites with its first breath, and
she cannot conceal the loss nor cover the shame ! "
" If there be but one spot upon thy name,
One eye thou fearest to meet, one human voice
Whose tones thou shrinkest from, Woman ! veil thy face,
And bow thy head and die ! "
Then4s there no help for woman's condition in this cold,
uncharitable world? you ask, in view of these facts related
above. Yes ; hut it rests with woman. It must begin with
the first breath the female infant draws. Educate her
from the cradle. Give her the freedom of the boy, the
pure air that the boy breathes ; not the romping, rude,
boisterous plays, perhaps (?), of the boy, but plenty of out-
door exercise, runs, slides, skates, rides ; let her laugh, yea
shout, if it be in a countr}^ place, till the woods ring again with
the merry echoes, and the puzzled forest nymphs issue from
their invaded retreats, endeavoring to solve the riddle by
ocular demonstration which their ears have failed to unravel,
viz., the sex, as revealed in the strength of voice and buoy-
ancy of spirits, or expressed in unrestrained laughter !
" O, shocking ! How hoidenish ! "
Who says to laugh is ^^ hoidenish? ^^ A female invariably !
And this is just what we are explaining : women must change
tactics as teachers. There is time enough to instruct the
young lady, after the girl or the miss has developed muscle,
vitalized her blood, and capacitated her brain for the sterner
realities of life.
Let women learn to be true teachers of women.
Begin at the beginning. This is the only way. Stand
by one another in the reform. Never mind the ballot ; don't
try to wear the breeches. No — the male attire I mean.
The superfluous boarding-school education must give place
to something more substantial. Mrs. Dashaway is to the
point : —
146 RESIGNATION.
"No, Pauline; home eddycation is perferable. If there is
a lequestred spot on this toad-stool I detest more*n another
it is a female cemetery, where bread-and-butter girls are
sent and quartered for a finished eddycation ; and it does
finish most of em."
" O, no, no, aunty. You mean sequestered spot, and
sent quarterly to a seminary, ^^
"Well, well; you've got too many oceans in your head
already of Greek and zebra, of itchiology, and other humerous
works ; as for me, give me pure blood, sound teeth, and a good
constitution, and let them what's got them sort of diseases
see the good Samaritan, and ten to eleven if he don't cure
them in less than no time. Land ! if Pauline ain't drum-
mi n' the piany ! "
Shall women remain passively resigned to the lamentable
physical condition of her sex? or will she see where lies
the main difficulty, viz., in a wrong start, — in the supei'flu-
ous, debilitating, namhy-pamhy education of the female in-
fant, miss, young lady?
Thoreau wrote that he believed resignation a virtue, but he
** rather not practise it unless it became absolutely necessary.'*
"Resignation" is unnecessary in this case. Only let every
woman arouse her energies, and stand firmly in claiming her
"rights" to rightly educate 'her children, girls as well as
boys, showing no respect of sex in their early training,
thereby " commencing at the beginning." What is a house
without a good foundation? You may build, and rebuild,
and finally it will all topple over, overwhelming you in its
ruins.
There is no " right " that woman may claim for herself and
sex in general but men must and will concede. Man is not
your master. "Habit," "fashion," "opinion," these are
your only masters. These shackle woman.
Do women dress for men ? to please the opposite sex ? or
for each other's eye? "You know just how it is yourself."
MISS PRIMROSE. 147
Poh ! What do men, generally speaking, know of woman's
dress ? Absolutely nothing ! I boldly assert that not one
man in twenty, going out to a call, party, or even a concert
or opera, knows the cut and color of the dress of his wife
aqcompanying him. Woman dresses for women's inspection.
Whatever she does for fear or favor of man else, woman
dresses for her own sex.
"What will Mrs. Codfish say when she sees this turned
dress?"
"Old Codfish," her husband, is worth at least fifty thou-
sand dollars, and here is Mrs. Copyman, whose husband is as
poor as " Job's turkey," standing in dread of that woman's
criticism !
Not one male in a thousand can detect a well turned dress,
but I defy the most cunning dressmaker to alter, retrim,
frill, and " furbelow " a dress that the female eye won't detect
at a glance !
" I rather pay the butcher's bill than the doctor's," says
the father.
"O, horrors ! Just see that girl swallow the meat ! Why,
it will make your skin as rough as a grater and as greasy as
an Indian's ! " exclaims the mother.
Miss Primrose keeps our village school ; she who wears
the trailing skirts, and was seen to cut a cherry in two parts
before eating it, at the party last week. She almost went
into convulsions — not of laughter, as I did — to see Kitty
Clover astride a plank, with her brother on the opposite end,
playing at " See-saw."
" Here we go up — up — uppy ; and here we go down —
down — downy," they were singing in unison, when "ding,
ding, ding ! " went the school-bell, followed by a scream from
Miss Primrose.
With glowing cheeks — that's from the exercise — and
downcast eye, from fear of Miss Primrose's anger, Kitty came
demurely into the school-room before recess was half over.
148
HERE WE GO UP-
After a long lecture about her
masculine behavior,"
"horrid red countenance," and "rumpled dress," and '* di-
shevelled hair," poor Kitty is sent to her form to " sit up
straight, and not forget that she is a young lady hereafter."
"HERE WE GO UP— UP— UPPY; AND HERE WE GO DOWN— DOWN— DOWNY."
And what of her brother who was on the other end of the
plank? O, he is a boy ! " That's what* s the difference ! "
Love and Thoroughwort.
" He'll never die for love, I know,
He'll never die for love, nor wear
Upon his brow the marks of care."
This is a true story, written for this work, but published,
by permission of the author, in the "American Union."
LOVE AND THOROUGHWORT. 149
'*So you believe me totally incapable of truly loving any
girl, do you?"
"I most assuredly do," was my positive answer.
My friend, George Brown, turned and walked away a few
paces, looking thoughtfully to the ground. He was a splen-
did looking man, about twenty years of age ; my late school-
fellow, m}^ present friend and confidant. He was, what I
did not flatter myself as being, a great favorite with the
ladies. Handsome, tall, manly, of easy address, a fine
singer and dancer, the only impediment to his physical per-
fection was, when the least excited, a hesitancy of speech —
almost a stammer. Finally he turned and walked back to
me, saying, —
"Now, Ad, if you will agree to a proposition I have to
oflfer, I will disprove your assertion, so oft repeated, that I
never loved — not even that dear girl, Jenny Kingsbury."
" First let me hear your proposition."
" You have long desired to visit Bangor ? "
"Yes," I replied.
" Let us harness * Simon ' early some fine morning for that
delightful city; go by the way of B. and O., stop and see
Jenny, who I have learned by roundabout inquiry resides
with her aunt in the latter place. And," he added, trium-
phantly, " see for yourself if she isn't a girl to be loved."
" O, no doubt Jenny Kingsbury * is a girl to be loved ; ' so
was Addie, and so was 'Ria, and a dozen others, whom you
have sworn you loved so devotedly. O George, out upon
your affections."
« Will — will — you go ? That's the question."
" Yes — I will go — because I wish to visit Bangor very
much," was my reply ; and the time was at once set for the
journey, which was to occupy two days.
Mrs. Brown, the mother of my friend George, was a de-
vout Christian. She believed in her Bible. Moreover, she
was an excellent nurse, and next to her Bible, believed in
150 STUFF AGAINST STUFFING.
thorougJiivort, Thorough wort tea, or thorough wort syrup,
was her panacea for all the ills, physical or moral, that ever
was, or could be, detailed upon poor humanity.
" Before you start, boys — "
" Boys ! Where are your men?^^ interrupted George.
" Hear me ! " continued Mrs. Brown. " Before you start
for Bangor to-morrow morning, do you take a good drink of
that thoroughwort syrup in the large jar on the first shelf in
the pantry. It'll keep out the cold ; for there'll be frost
to-night, I think, and at five o'clock in the morning the air
will be sharp. O, there is nothing equal to thoroughwort
for keeping out the cold."
"Anything to eat in that pantry?" asked George, with a
wink tipped to me. You see I was to sleep with him that
night, preparatory to an early start for Bangor.
" Yes, some cold meat, bread, and a pie. But don't forget
to first take a dose of the thoroughwort syrup. Addison,
you bear it in mind, for George is awful forgetful, especially
about taking his thoroughwort.'* And Mrs. Brown detained
us fully fifteen minutes, as she rehearsed the remarkable
qualities of her favorite remedy, — " particularly for keeping
out cold."
"Mother thinks that condemnable stufl^ is meat, drink, and
clothing," remarked George, as we sought the pantry at an
early hour on the following morning, not for the thorough-
wort, but for sandwiches, pies, and the like.
"Let me take a taste of the *stuflf,'" I said, as I noticed
the jar so conveniently at hand.
" O, no ; not on an empty stomach. It will make you
throw up Jonah if you do," exclaimed George, with an ex-
pression of disgust distorting his features. "Eat something
first, and then, if you want to taste the condemned * stuff,'
do so, and the Lord be with you," he added, pitching into
the eatables.
Having made away with the pie, and much of the sand-
THE NIGHTCAPPED HEAD. 151
wiches, we turned our attention for a moment to the thor-
oughwort syrup. I took a taste, and George spilled a quan-
tity on the shelf, "that mother may know we have been to
the jar," he remarked, as we left the pantry.
It was not yet five o'clock when we drove noiselessly away
from the door. If I remember rightly, we were not noise-
less after that. The morning was delightful, slightly cool,
— but that was no impediment to our warm blood, owing to
the thoroughwort, — and we sped on in an exuberant flow
of spirits. " Simon " was in excellent travelling order, and
went without whip or spur. We should have reached the
village of B., where we were to breakfast, and bait Simon,
by eight o'clock, but George would insist on making the
acquaintance, nolens volens, of half the farmers on the road,
ostensibly to inquire the way to B.
" Hallo ! " he shouted, reining up Simon before a small
farm-house. Up flew a window, and out popped a night-
capped head.
" What d'ye want?" called a feminine voice. It was now
hardly daylight, and the person could not distinguish us.
"Excuse me, madam, for disturbing your slumbers; but
can you inform a stranger if this is the right road to B. ?"
asked George, in his most pleasing manner.
"O, yes; keep right on; take the first left hand road to
the top o' the hill ; then go on till yer — "
We drove away, not waiting for the rest.
"Do you suppose that old woman is talking there now,
with her nightcapped head poked out of the window ? " asked
George, as we reached the hotel at B.
"For shame ! " said I. " Waking up all the people on the
road, to inquire the way, with which you were perfectly
familiar ! "
From B. our route lay along the westefn bank of the
beautiful Penobscot. I need not detain you while I rehearse
the delightful scenery en route to Bangor; the variegated
152 "I ST-ST-STUTTER SO."
and gorgeous splendors of the autumnal leaves ; the bending
boughs, from the abundant ripened fruit, in colors of red,
orange, and yellow on one hand, and on the other the bright,
glassy waters of the broad river, dotted here and there by
the. white sails of boats and vessels lying becalmed in the
morning sunshine.
We reached the village of O., and George made inquiry
for the residence of Mr. Kingsbury.
"The large white house just across the bridge."
"Thank you." And we drove up to the front yard.
"Ne-ne-now, Ad, you go up and knock, and call for Miss
Kingsbury ; ye-ye-you know I st-stutter when I get ex-ex-
cited," said George, hitching Simon to the horse-post.
"What shall I say to her? and how shall I know Miss
Kingsbury from any other lady ? "
" O, ask for her. I'll compose myself, and follow ri-right
up. You'll know her from the description I have given you.
Black eyes and hair, full form — O, there is nobody else
like her. Come, go up and call for her."
" Well, I'll go ; and if I get stuck, come quickly to my
rescue," I said, turning to the house. " Is Miss Kingsbury
at home?" I asked of the young lady who answered my
knock. " This person is surely not Miss Jenny," I said to
myself; "cross-eyed, blue at that, and light, almost red
hair." She smiled, took a second look at me, and said, —
"Who?"
"Miss Jenny Kingsbury," I repeated.
" Well — yes — I guess she is. Will you walk in ? "
"No, thank you. Will you please call her out?" And
so saying, I beckoned to George.
The girl closed the door, and I called to George " to make
haste and change places with me." He came up just as
the door reopened, and a beautiful dark-eyed woman ap-
peared, whom he greeted as Miss Kingsbury.
"I'll see to the horse," I said ; and having taken a hurried
AN UNEXPECTED OBSTACLE. 153
glance at the young lady, I withdrew. For a full half hour
I walked up and down beneath the maples in front of the
house, watched the steamer Penobscot, as she came up the
river, and from thence turned my attention to a schooner
that was endeavoring to enter the cove, not far from the
house. A light breeze had sprung up from the westward,
and the channel being narrow, there seemed much difficulty
in gaining the harbor.
Finally George came to the door and beckoned me. I
went in, and received an introduction to Mrs. Kingsbury and
to Jenny.
" O, but she is beautiful," I whispered to George.
He was flushed and excited, consequently stammered
some, and I was compelled to keep up a conversation, but I
did not feel easy. Something was wrong. I detected more
than one sly wink between aunt and niece, and when the
cross-eyed miss came into the room, I could not tell whom
she was glancing at, as her eyes "looked forty ways for
Sunday," but she leered perceptibly towards first one, then
the other of the ladies. I hinted to George that we must
not delay longer. Still he tarried. Mrs. Kingsbury seemed
interested in the movements of the schooner in the mouth
of the cove. Miss Jenny was interested in George. I was
interested in getting away from them all. Finally the
schooner was moored to the wharf, and, standing at the win-
dow, I noticed a sailor, with a bundle on a stick over his
shoulder, approaching the house. A whisper passed be-
tween aunt and niece, and the latter asked George to accom-
pany her into an adjoining room.
It was now past noon. A pleasant, savory smell came up
from the kitchen, but no one asked me to put up the horse,
and stay to dinner.
The man with the bundle came familiarly into the yard.
Soon George returned alone to the room, and seizing his hat,
he stammered, ''C-c-come, Ad," and rushed from the house.
10
154 "HOI SIMON."
Mrs. Kingsbury attended me to the door, and wished me
a pleasant ride to Bangor. George jumped into the buggy,
seized the reins, and giving a cut upon the horse, bawled,
"Go on, Simon."
" Hold on. First let me unhitch him," I cried, seizing the
spirited beast by the bridle. I unfastened the halter, and
jumped into the carriage ; and away flew Simon, snorting
and irritated under the unnecessary cuts he had received
from the whip. At the first corner George took the back
road towards B.
"Not that way ! Hold on, and turn about," I exclaimed,
catching at the reins. "Now stop and tell me all about it.
Did you propose to Jenny? Has she accepted, and are you
beside yourself with ecstatic joy? Come, tell me."
"Ho ! Simon." And laying down the reins, George drew
out his wallet, and taking therefrom a bit of silk goods, he
turned upon my astonished gaze a woe-begone look, and
said, —
"Ad, she's mum-mum-married — "
" Married ! "
" Yes, married ; and there's a piece of her wedding gown.
The fellow you saw come in while there, with the bundle on
a stick, — the land-lubberish-looking fellow, — was her hus-
band. O my God ! Did you ever?" And so relieving his
mind, he caught 'the reins and whip, and away darted
Simon at a fearful rate of speed.
At Bangor I said to George, —
"Well, there probably is no love lost on either side. She
sold out at the first bid, and you never had the least hold on
her afiections."
"Ah, I have had her confidence in too many moonlight
walks to believe that," was his reply.
"And it was all moonshine, — that's evident," I said.
"No, no; I wish it was. I never shall love again," said
George, with a deep sigh, and a sorry-looking cast of coun-
tenance.
LOVE AS A DISEASE. 155
*'No, I suppose not," was my non-consoling reply.
"Still, do you believe I never loved that darling girl?" he
asked, almost in a rage. "If that man — that fellow —
should die with the autumn leaves, I would at once marry
Jenny, who loves me still," he exclaimed, pacing the room
like an enraged lion.
"He won't die, however. He looks healthy and robust,
and will outlive you and your affection for his wife," I re-
plied, with a derisive laugh.
It rained the next afternoon, as we returned home by a
shorter route than via O. and B. George talked a great
deal of Jenny on the way back, and said he never should
get over this fearful disappointment.
" Only think of the lovely Jenny Kingsbury marrying that
fellow with the bundle and the stick ! O, I shall be sick
over it ; I know I shall."
"Especially if you take a bad cold riding in this storm," I
added, by way of consolation. "However, you can take
some of your mother's good thorough wort — "
" Confound the thoroughwort," he interrupted.
"Did yoiv know that George is sick?" asked his little
brother of me the following day.
"No. Is he much sick? " I inquired, in alarm.
" O, yes ; he's awful sick — or was last night ; and mother
fooled him on a dose of fresh thererwort tea, which only
made him sicker," replied the little chap, turning up his nose
in disgust.
"Is he better now?" I inquired.
"O, yes; ever so much now. I don't know what ma
called the disease he's got ; but howsomever she said ther-
erwort was good for it, and I guess it is, 'cause he's better."
I was called away, and did not see my friend George till
a week after our return from the little trip to B. He never
mentioned Jenny afterwards, nor said a word about the
156
THOROUGHWORT WINS.
thoroughwort tea. He took to horses after that, and event-
ually married a poor, unpretending girl, quite unlike the
dark-eyed, beautiful, and wealthy Miss Jenny Kingsbury.
Mrs. Brown still recommends her favorite panacea for all
ails, physical or moral ; but whenever she mentions it in
George's presence, he exclaims, with a look of disgust, —
" O, confound the thoroughwort ! "
VL
QUACKS.
" Verily,
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perked up in a glistening grief
And wear a golden sorrow." — King Henry VIII.
ANECDOTE IN ILLUSTRATION. — DERIVATION. — FATHER OP QUACKS. — A MEDI-
CAL " 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 CON-
SULTATION. — "SCENES FROM WESTERN PRACTICE." — "TWIST ROOT." —
A JOLLY TRIO. — NEW " BUST " OF CUPID. — AN UNW^ILLING LISTENER.
On looking over my " collection " on quacks and charla-
tans, I am so strongly reminded of a little anecdote which
you may have already seen in print, but which so well illus-
trates painfully the facts to be adduced in this chapter, that
I must appropriate the story, which story a western engi-
neer tells of himself.
'"One day our train stopped at a new watering-place, being
a small station in Indiana, where I observed two green-
looking countrymen in * homespun ' curiously inspecting the
locomotive, occasionally giving vent to expressions of aston-
ishment.
" Finally one of them approached and said, —
" ' Stranger, are this 'ere a injine ? '
" * Certainly. Did you ever see one before ? '
(157)
158 A COUNTRYMAN'S IDEA.
" * No, never seen one o' the critters afore. Me an' Bill
here corned down t' the station purpose to see one. Them's
the biler — ain't it ? '
" ' Yes, that is the boiler,' I answered.
" * What you call that place you're in ? ' %
"'This we call a cab.'
"'An' this big wheel, what's this fur?'
"'That's the driving wheel.'
" * That big, black thing on top I s'pose is the chimley.'
"'Precisely.*
" * Be you the engineer what runs the machine ? '
"'I am,' 1 replied, with the least bit of self-complacency.
"He eyed me closely for a moment; then, turning to his
companion, he remarked, —
"'Bill, it don't take much of a man to be a engineer — do
it?''*
The reader will perceive the distinction which we make
between humbugs, quacks, and charlatans, though one indi-
vidual may comprehend the whole.
" Quacks comprehend not only those who enact the absurd
impositions of ignorant pretenders, but also of unbecoming
acts of professional men themselves,'* — Thomas' Medical Die-
tionarij.
This is the view we propose to take of it in this chapter,
in connection with the derivation of the word.
The word quach is derived from the German '^ quack
salber" or mercury, which metal was introduced iiito the
Materia Medica by Philippics Aureolus Theophrastu's Para-
celsus Bombast ab Hohenhein!
" So extensively was quicksilver used by Paracelsus and
his followers that they received the stigma of ' quacks.' " —
See Parr's Medical Dictionary,
There is some controversy respecting the date of birth of
Paracelsus, but probably it was in the year 1493. He was
born in Switzerland.
x1
THE FATHER OF QUACKS. 161
Professor Waterhouse (1835) says, " He was learned in
Greek, Latin, and several other languages. That he intro-
duced quicksilver," etc., " and was a vain, arrogant profli-
gate, and died a confirmed sot."
"Paracelsus was a man of most dissolute habits and un-
principled character, and his works are fiDed with the highest
flights of unintelligible bombastic jargon, unworthy of
perusal, but such as might be expected from one who united
in his person the qualities of a fanatic and a drunkard." —
JR. jD. T,
Mercury was known to the early Greek and Roman phy-
sicians, who regarded it as a dangerous poison. They, how-
ever, used it externally in curing the itch, and John de Vigo
employed it to cure the plague. Paracelsus used it internally
first for lues venerea, which appeared in Naples the year of
his birth, though doubtless that disease reached far back,
even into the camp of Israel. The heroic doses of Paracelsus
either destroyed the disease at once, or the 'patient, Para-
celsus proclaimed to the world that there was no further need
of the Materia Medica, especially the writings of Galen,
and burned them in public; his "Elixir Vit^" would cure all
diseases. But in spite of his wonderful knowledge and his
life-saving elixir, he died of the diseases he professed to cure,
at the early age of forty-eight, while Galen lived to the age
of seventy.
So much for the " father of quacks."
For nearly four centuries mercury has been exhibited in
the Materia Medica to a greater extent than any other reme-
dy. Doubtless it possesses great medicinal virtues, but its
abuse — the "heroic doses " used by the ignorant and brain-
less quacks, both graduates of some medical college, and
soi-disant physicians — has made its name a terror to the
people and a reproach to the profession. To assail it is to
tread on dangerous ground ; to invade the " rights " of a nu-
merous host of worshippers ; to uncover an ulcer, whose rot-
162 ABUSE OF MERCURY.
teiiiiess, though smelling to heaven, is protracted for the pe-
cuniary advantage of the prescriber.
Eminent physicians in every age since its introduction, and
in every enlightened country, have protested against its
abuse ; yea, even its use ! They have called its users
^^ quacks " the most contemptible epithet ever introduced into
medical nomenclature, — the ^^ /Samson'* of the profession,
because through the instrumentality of an ass and his adhe-
rents, " it has slain its thousands."
I need not quote those distinguished practitioners who
have recorded their testimony against its general and indis-
criminate use. Their name is legion, and every well-informed
physician is aware of the fact.
Do not "well-informed physicians " prescribe calomel?
Certainly ; but cautiously, and often under protest.
It is recorded of Sir Astley Cooper that he made serious
objections to its free use in the wards of the Borough Hospi-
tals, and forthwith the " smaller fry " made such a breeze about
his ears that he seemed called upon to defend, and even pal-
liate, his offence. Dr. Macilwain says that Sir Astley is
reported to have said in reply to those who demurred, —
"Why, gentlemen, was it likely that I should say anything
unkind towards those gentlemen? Is not Mr. Green (surgeon
of St. Thomas) my godson, Mr. Tusell my nephew, Mr. Trav-
ers my apprentice (surgeon of St. Thomas), Mr. Key
and Mr. Cooper (surgeons of Guy's Hospital) my nephews?"
This was very naive, and as good illustration of the value
of evidence in relation to one thing (his provision for his
relatives) which is stated in relation to another.
Herein Sir Astley exposed a weakness with wiiich the dem-
ocratic opponents of President Grant have accused him, viz.,
of furnishing comfortable positions for his relatives.
Sir John Forbes, when at the head of the medical profes-
sion of England in 1846, wrote an earnest appeal to his breth-
ren to rescue their art from the ruin into which it was falling,
COLOMEL IN THE ARMY 163
saying in relation to modes of curing diseases, " Things have
become so bad that they must mend or end." This was
"dangerous ground'," and some physicians of the day feared
Dr. Forbes had done an immense mischief. After his death,
be it remembered, some of tlie "medical magnates" of this
country virtuously refused to subscribe to his monument
fund, saying, " it was a misfortune to mankind ( ?) that he
had ever lived."
Dr. W. A. Hammond, surgeon general of the United
States, also blundered when, by an order dated at Wash-
ington, May 4, 1863, he struck calomel from the supply
table of the army. This proscription was on the ground
that " it has so frequently been pushed to excess by military
surgeons, as to call for prompt steps to correct its abuse.
. . . This is done ivith the more confidence, as modern pa-
thology has iwoved the impropriety of the use of mercury in
very many of those diseases in which it was formerly unfail-
ingly a dministered. "
The American Medical Times (regular) said, "The order
appeared not only expedient, but judicious and necessary,
under the circumstances." TKAa^ circumstances? Kead on
further, and the Times editor explains : " No evil can result
to the sick soldier from the absence of calomel, however
much he may need mercurialization, when such preparations
as blue pill, bichloride and iodide of mercury, etc., remain.
But, in prescribing these latter remedies, the practitioner
generally has a very definite idea of the object he wishes to
attain, which is not always the case in the use of calomel."
By this timely order it was estimated that ten thousand
soldiers were released from a morning dose of calomel !
Was this a blow aimed at " quackery " ? Was Dr. Ham-
mond, " a member of the medical profession highly esteemed
for scientific attainments," attempting a reform in medicine?
Any way. Dr. Hammond shared the fate of all medical re-
formers. He was suspended. He was disgraced.
164 WHO ARE THE QUACKS?
The American Medical Association • met at Chicago, and
set up a strong opposition to the " order." Certain persons
brought charges against the surgeon general. A commission
was appointed. The Times said, "The whole aflfair has the
appearance of a secret and deliberate conspiracy against the
surgeon general. . . . The commission is, in the first place,
headed by a person known to be hostile to the surgeon gen-
eral. This fact throws suspicion upon the object of the in-
vestigation." Just so. The "object" was to appoint some
one instead of Dr. Hammond, who would repeal the obnox-
ious order. No matter whoXj pretence was set up beside, this
is the fact of the case, and the people and the profession
know this to be true.
But how shall we judge of the motives of Dr. Hammond
but by appearances? Who so well knew the value, or in-
jury, of calomel, as he who had used it for twenty odd years ?
Admitting Professor Chapman, of Philadelphia, w^as within
twenty years of right when he said, "He who resigns the
fate of his patient to calomel, ... if he has a tolerable
practice, will, in a single season, lay the foundation of a
good business for life," did not Dr. H. exhibit a little selfish-
ness in attempting to deprive young practitioners of the dp-
jDortunity of laying for themselves a foundation for a pros-
perous future?
" Doubtless," said a medical journal of the day, " all quacks
and irregulars are congratulating themselves upon the ap-
pearance of this 'order.'" This leads us to ask, "Who are
the quacks?"
The governor of Ohio, in 1861, made inquiry of the
United States surgeon general, to know if the regiments of
that state could be allowed to choose between allopathic and
homeopathic surgeons.
"A^b; ril see them damned to hell first, '^ was the gracious
reply.
The resolutions drawn up and adopted by the New York
CLEAR AS MUD! 165
Academy of Medicine as an offset against the appeal for
admission of homeopathic surgeons into the army (1862),
contained the following : —
"3d. That it (homeopathy) is no more worthy of such
introduction than other kindred methods of practice as closely
allied to quackery, ^^
There w^ere then some thirty-five hundred of that sort of
" quacks " practising under diplomas — mostly obtained from
regular colleges — in the United States. Shame !
The Royal College, Dublin, the same year, in a resolution
passed, called Mesmerism and homeopathy quackery.
Ill an article in the "Scalpel," from the able pen of Dr.
Richmond, — about the time that the "swarm of vampires
that was the first fruits of the tribe of rooters that swarmed
the State of New York under the teachings of T. and B."
(Thompson and Beach), — he calls botanies and eclectics
quacks and Paracelsuses ! Clear as — mud !
So ! The calomel practitioners are quacks. The horaeo-
pathics are quacks. The eclectics, and botanies, and Mes-
merics, are all quacks! Any more, gentlemen? This is
getting things somewhat mixed, and I rush to Dunglison's
Medical Dictionary for explanation. Why, a quack is a
charlatan 1 I turn to "Charlatan." Lo, it is quack ! Clear
as mud, again.
In my perplexity I consult Webster. He refers me to a
goose! So I rush to Worcester, and he implies it is a duck!
Perhaps the hill has something to do with the name ; espe-
cially as I am reminded of a suit brought by a Boston M. D.
to recover the exorbitant sum of three hundred dollars for
reducing a dislocation.
Therefore, summing up this " uncertainty," it seems to be
a convenient word, expressive of contempt, which any pro-
fessional man may hurl at any other whom he dislikes, or
with whom he is not in fellowship.
In its general use it is the thief calling, " Stop thief."
166 CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.
It was no unusual practice for physicians of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries to use calomel in scruple, and even
drachm doses. Mazerne "habitually administered calomel
m scruple doses." Yandal gave it by the table-spoonful. I
knew a physician in Maine who usually administered it by
the tea-spoonful, and I saw a woman at Deer Isle, Me., suf-
fering from true anchylosis of the jaw, in consequence of
thus taking his prescription. In the same town was a man
who was made completely imbecile by overdoses of mercury.
In the town of B 1, same county and state, once lived an
old quack, for convenience sake, near a large graveyard.
He " owned " it. That is, he is said to have more victims
laid away therein than all the other doctors who ever prac-
tised in town. "I knew him well." Once he sent to Boston
for two ounces of calomel. There was no steam conveyance
in those days, and a sea captain took the order. By some
mistake, ttvo pounds were sent. It was not returned. "O,
never mind," said the doctor ; "I shall use it all some time."
Every state, county, yes, every town, in the Union has its
victims to this quackery. In Rochclle, 111., is a remarkable
xase, a merchant. Almost every joint in his frame is ren-
dered useless. He can si3eak, and his brain is active. He
has a large store, and he is carried to it every day, and there,
stretched upon a counter, he gives directions to his em-
ployes. Though comparatively young, his hair is blanched
like the snow-drift, foiling upon his shoulders, and he is
hopelessly crippled for life. "He does not speak in very
flattering terms of the calomel doctors," said my informant.
Neither do the thousands of diseased and mutilated soldiers,
the victims to quackery while in the army.
" Speaking Facts. — A little boy, ten years of age, and
having a paralyzed right leg, may be seen occasionally
among his more able-bodied companions, the newsboys, un-
successfully striving to ' hoe his row ' with his rougher and
more vigorous fellows. The limb is wholly dead, so far as
VICTIMS OF CALOMEL. 167
its iisefnliiess is concerned and it was caused by giving the
little fellow overdoses of calomel, when he was an infant.
"Another victim to calomel lives in the city of Hartford,
in the person of a young lady of sixteen, who would be
handsome but for deformities of face and mouth, occasioned
by calomel given to her when a little child. She cannot
open her mouth, and her food is always gruel, etc., intro-
duced through the teeth. But the doctors stick to calomel
as the sheet anchor of their faith."
Behold Washington, who had passed through the battles
of his country unharmed, and who in his last ilhiess had, in
the brief space of twelve hours, ninety ounces of blood
drawn from his veins, and in the same space of time taken
sixty grains of calomel !
Who wonders that he should request his physician to allow
him to " die in peace'^9
Andrew Jackson was another victim to calomel, as well as
to the lancet, as the following letter shows : —
** Hermitage, October 24, 1844.
"My dear Mr. Blair: On the 12th inst., I had a re-
turn of hemorrhage, and two days after, a chill. With a
lancet to correct the first, and calomel to check the second, I
am greatly debilitated, Andrew Jackson."
Was not this double quackery ? First, it was the Similia
similibus curantur (like cures like), of the homeopathists,
which the Academy of Medicine has termed quackery. Sec-
ond, it was exhibiting calomel to the injury (debilitating)
of the patient.
President Harrison was another victim.
Are not these historical facts? Nevertheless, it is trea-
son to mention them. "And why should any truth be
counted as treasonable?" the honest and intelligent reader is
led to inquire. "For truth is mighty, and must prevail,"
eventually.
168 REFLECTIONS.
Yes, yes, truth will prevail. When bigotry and old-fogy
notions are uprooted from the profession, and all educated
and benevolent physicians strike hands and join fortunes to
eradicate and discountenance all forms of quackery amongst
themselves, they will then possess the power to suppress
outside quackery. Far too many make a trade of the pro-
fession; and just so long as educated physicians countenance
or practise any one form of quackery, so long will they be
powerless to check the abominations of charlatans and im-
postors outside of the profession.
We have not introduced the foregoing facts in the interest
of any persuasion. W^ith the bickerings of the various
schools of medicine we propose to have nothing to do, ex-
cept to seize upon such truths as those otherwise useless
quarrels are continually revealing. Opposition will not
weaken a truth, nor strengthen a falsehood. You who are
in the right need, therefore, have no fear as to final results.
It is hard to kick against the pricks of custom, and custom
has perverted the word which is the text of this chapter, and
it is now more commonly applied to the ignorant, boastful
pretender to the science of medicine.
Now we will introduce a few facts obtained from without
the profession.
The Country Quack.
In the town of P , Conn., there resided two doctors.
One, old Dr. B., a regular, and the other. Dr. S— h, an
irregular. It was in the autumn, and a fever was prevailing
at this time, of a very malignant character. From over-
exertion and exposure Dr. B. was taken sick, and in a few
days fever supervened. This news spread terror over the
immediate community, and the old doctor becoming delir-
ious, his wife and family soon partook of the terror. A
neighboring physician was sent for, but being absent, he did
not at once respond; and the invalid becoming, as they
THE COUNTRY QUACK. 169
feared, rapidly worse, Dr. S. was reluctantly called. He
was known to be an ignoramus, formerly a peddler, a farmer,
hors^-jockey, a fifth-rate country law3'er, and, lastly, a doc-
tor. Had Dr. B. retained his senses, he would have sooner
died than have admitted his enemy, this " rooter," into his
house. He came, however, with great pomposity, examined
the patient, whose delirium prevented resistance, and ordered
an immediate application of the juice of poke-berries rubbed
over the entire skin of the old doctor, as a febrifuge.
"But," inquired the wife, timidly, "is not this an unusual
prescription. Dr. S.?" The doctor replied that it was a
new remed}^ but very efficacious. "You see," he added,
with many a hem and haw, " it will out-herod the blush of
the skin, put to shame the fever, which retires in disgust,
and so relieves the patient."
" And won't he die, if we follow this strange prescrip-
tion?" asked a friend, while the doctor was proceeding to
deal out a large powder.
" No, no ; ahem ! You do the dyeing, to prevent the
dying. Haw, haw ! " roared the vulgar old wretch, convulsed
by his own pun, and the anticipation of the ludicrous corpse
that he expected to see within a few days.
There was no alternative. The prescription must be fol-
lowed, and the children were sent to the woods to gather the
ripe berries. The quack next proceeded to deal out a dose
of lobelia and blood-root, which he left on the desk where
Dr. B. prepared medicines when in health, giving directions
for its administration, and in high glee took his departure.
The inspissated juice of the highly-colored berries was ap-
plied over the face, arms, and body of the unconscious doc-
tor, the remarkable appearance of whom we leave the reader
to imagine.
By mistake, a large dose of camphorated dover's powders
which lay on the table was substituted for the lobelia of Dr.
S., which with the warm liquid applied to the skin, checked
170 DYEING WHILE LIVING.
the fever, and, contrary to the hope and expectation of Dr.*
S., the following morning found his patient in a tine perspi-
ration, and the neighboring physician arriving, he was soon
placed in a condition of safety.
Notwithstanding Dr. S. told some friends of the joke, —
for the worst have their friends, you know, — he was known
to have prescribed for Dr. B., his sworn enemy; and as the
patient was pronounced convalescent, S. received all the
credit, and forthwith his services were in great demand.
Day and night" he rode, till, by the time Dr. B. got out, he
was completely exhausted ! He became alarmed lest he
should lake the fever. Such fellows are ever cowards when
anything ails their precious selves. He actually became
feverish with fear and excitement, and took his bed — and
his emetic. He took either an overdose, or not enough, and
for hours remained in the greatest distress. Finally, as a
dernier resort, his wife sent for Dr. B. ! Now came his turn
to avenge the insult of the painting by poke-berries, which
stain was yet scarcely removed from the skin of the old doctor.
"I'll give him a dose; I'll put my mark on him — one
that milk and water, or soap, cannot remove. O, I'll be
avenged !" exclaimed Dr. B., as he mounted his gig, and
drove to Dr. S.
"O doctor, doctor! I am in fearful distress. Can you
help me? Will I die?'* whined S., on beholding his op-
ponent.
"No ; not sjuch good news. Those born to hang don't die
in their beds. But you are very sick, and must abide my
directions."
"Yes, yes. Thanks, doctor. This blamed lobelia is kill-
ing me, though."
"Then take this." And Dr. B. administered a half tea-
spoonful of ipecac, to bring up the lobelia. So far was good.
"Now a basin of water and a sponge," said Dr. B., which
being procured, he seemed to examine for a moment very
A SCARED DOCTOR.
171
curiously ; then ordered the face, neck, arms, and hands of
the patient bathed well with the fluid.
On the following morning Dr. B. was sent for, post haste,
with the cheering message that "mortification had set in, and
his patient was dying."
Off posted the doctor, calling several neighbors, en route,
who thronged the apartment of the invalid doctor in speech-
less astonishment.
CURIOUS EFFECT OF A FEVER.
"I'm dying. Dr. B. ; O, I'm dying," groaned S., rolling
to and fro on his bed.
"No, you are not. I told you before, no such good news.
Your fever is all gone. You are scared — that's what's the
matter," replied Dr. B.
"But look, just look at the color of my skin, — all morti-
fying," said S.
"Oj no; that is merely dyed with nitrate of silver. It's
much better than poke-berries — much better," repeated
Dr. B.
11
172 A CLEAR CASE OF DROPSY.
The recovered patient leaped from his bed, and, with an
oath, made straight for the doctor ; but the bystanders,
though convulsed with laughter, caught the enraged victim,
while, amid the cheers and laughter of the crowd, Dr. B.
made his escape, saying to himself, —
"The nitrate of silver I put in the basin worked like a
charm."
The story soon circulated, and Dr. S., being unable to
remove the deep stain from his skin, and the curious rabble
from his door, left for parts unknown. Dr. B., on revisiting
his patients, who now rejoiced in his recovery, found that S.
had not only dispensed lobelia and blood-root, but had bled
and mercurialized several.
Remarkable Dropsy.
The writer was acquainted with a young physician who
was unceremoniously discharged by the family of a beautiful
young lady to whom he had been called to prescribe, in a
country village, his offence being the discovery of the true
source of the patient's ( ?) indisposition, which fact he dared
to intimate to the mother. " An older and more experienced
physician " succeeded him, who reversed the diagnosis, and
pronounced it " a clear case of dropsy,'^ and the young M. D.
went into disrepute. During the entire winter the old doc-
tor made daily visits to his patient. Daily had the old ladies
of the neighborhood adjusted their "specs," smoothed down
their aprons, and, watching the doctor's return, run out to
the gate to inquire after the health of the lady, the belle of
the town.
"O, she's convalescent,''^ was his usual reply, with due pro-
fessional dignity ; and thus the matter stood till a crisis
came.
There was a ball in the villasre one ni^rht. About eleven
o'clock a messenger appeared in the room, who hastily sum-
moned a certain young gentleman, a scion of one of the
A CONSULTATION.
173
"first families" in town. At the same time the minister was
called, and the young man, standing by the bed, holding the
invalid lady by the right hand, while on his left arm he
iil3v
MARRYING A FAMILY.
supported a beautiful babe but an hour old, was married
to the " convalescent " patient. The old doctor had I'un a
beautiful "bill," but it was his last in that village.
A Country Consultation.
The difficulty of obtaining competent counsel in the coun-
try can only be fully comprehended by the intelligent phy-
sician who has had experience therein.
From Dr. Richmond's " Scenes in Western Practice,'" I
have selected the following lamentable incidents, which I
have abbreviated as much as is consistent with the facts,
related by the doctor, who in this case was called to* a
wealthy and influential family, two of whom, wife and child,
were prostrated by epidemic dysentery.
"As my credit was at stake, an old and very grave man
174 TOO MUCH QUACKERY.
was, at my suggestion, added to the consultation, to guard
our reputation from the usual visitation of gossiping slan-
der that always follows a fatal result in the country. He
examined the child, and gave his opinion that the symptoms
resembled those of ipecac ! . . . But death was ahead of
the doctors, and the little sufferer passed quickly away to a
better world.
"Another child had died in the vicinity, and the neighbors
decided on a change of doctors for the lady. By my consent
the inventor of the ' Chingvang Pill ' was called, as I assured
my friend his wife would now recover without either of us !
" He came, and readily detected the fact that he was in luck.
His i^atieut and fees were both safe, and I was floored.
" ' Of course. Dr. R., you will call when convenient,'' was a
polite way of 'letting me down easily,' and I did call.
"Everything went on swimmingly for two days, when
suddenly the scale turned ; two other children were taken
vomiting bile and blood. The doctor was in trouble, and on
my friendly call his eye caught mine, and spoke plainly,
*My credit, too, is gone, — the children will both die.'
" The children grew rapidly worse ; the council of the
neighborhood decided to call further aid. Another regu-
lar was called, and, being one of the heroes, he advised (it
is solemn truth, dear reader) one hundred grains of calomel
at a dose! His reason was, that he had given it to a child,
and the patient recovered. His medical brother thought it
a little too steep, and they compromised the matter by giv-
ing fifty grains ! Copious quantities of fresh blood followed
the operation, and the little victim of disease and quackery
slipped from his suffering into the peaceful and quiet grave !
"One patient remained, and it was decided to call further
counsel.
"A simple but shrewd old quack was curing cancers in the
neighborhood, who sent word to the afflicted family that
he 'could cure the remaining child by cleansing the bowels
EFFECTS OF *' TWIST-ROOT."
175
with pills of butternut bark, aloes, camphor, and Cayenne
pepper ; ' he would feed the little fellow on twist-root tea that
would at once stop the discharges. Strange as it may seem,
the wily old fool was called into the august presence of three
M. D.'s, and a score of other counsellors. He gave his pills ;
fresh blood followed the raking over the inflamed and sensi-
tive membrane ; the child screamed with torture, and was
only relieved from its horrible agony by enemas of morphine.
The celebrated * twist-root ' (an Indian remedy, whose virtues
could not be appreciated by the educated physician) followed,
and death closed the scene.
" The old cancer-killer escaped by saying the morphine
given in his absence hilled the child."
•OPATHISTS IN CONSULTATION.
The following brief consultation occurred in Fulton, N. Y.,
recently : —
176 A JOLLY CONSULTATION.
Two physicians were called, of opposite schools. After
shaking hands over the sick man's bed, one said to the
other, —
"I believe you are an — ^opathist."
"Yes, I am; and you are a — 'pathist ; are you not?"
"Yes; and I can't break over the rules of my society by
aiding or counselling with you for the sake of one
patient. Good day ! "
"Sir, I mistook you for a Christian, not a barbarian ! Good
day ! "
A Jolly Trio of Doctors.
Before entering upon an exposition of the viler and more
reprehensible sort of quacks, — the city charlatans and im-
postors, — I must relate a diverting scene, also from a coun-
try consultation that occurred in New York State some years
since, from the perusal of which, if the reader cannot deduce
a '^ moral," he may derive some amusement.
Mr. H. was an invalid ; he was the worst kind of an inva-
lid — a hypochondriac. The visiting physician had made a
pretty good thing of it, the neighbors affirmed, for " H. was in
easy circumstances." Finally he took to his bed, and de-
clared he was about to shuffle oflf this mortal coil.
Two eminent physicians were summoned from a distance
to consult with the attending physician. They arrived by
rail, examined the patient, looked wise, and the learned trio
withdrew to consult upon so " complicated and important a
case." A tea-table had been set in ah adjoining room, and
to the abundance of eatables wherewith to refresh the dis-
tinguished professionals who were there to enter upon an
" arbitrament of life or death," were added sundry bottles
yet uncorked.
A little son and daughter of Mr. H. were amusing them-
selves, meantime, by a game at "hide-and-seek," and the
former, having " played out " all the legitimate hiding-places,
bethought himself of the top of a high secretary in the " ban-
A LIVE BUST. 177
queting-room." Action followed thought, and, climbing upon
a chair-back, he gained the dusty elevation, where he quietly
seated himself just as the three wise ^sculapians entered the
apartment. His only safety from discovery was to keep quiet.
Corks were drawn, supper was discussed, and conversation
flowed merrily along. The weather, the news of the day,
and the political crisis were discoursed, and the little fellow
perched high on the secretary wondered when and what they
would decide on his father's case. Nearly an hour had passed,
the doctors were merry, and the boy was tired ; but still the
little urchin kept his position.
"Well, Dr. A., how is practice here, in general?" in-
quired one of the counsel.
" Dull ; distressingly healthy. Why, if there don't come
a windfall in shape of an epidemic this fall, I shall fall short
for provender for my horse and bread for my family. How
is it with you ? "
"O, quite the reverse from you. I have alive twenty daily
patients now."
"Very sick, any of them? " asked the local physician.
"No, no, — a little more wine, doctor, — some old women,
whom any smart man can make think they are sick ; some
stout men, whom medicine will keep as patients when once
under the weather ; and silly girls, whom flattery will always
bring again, — ha I ha ! " and so saying he gulped down the
wine.
" Why, there goes nine o'clock."
" What, so late ! " exclaimed one counsellor, looking at
his gold repeater.
"We must go or we'll miss the return train," remarked the
other; "the doctor here will manage the patient H., who's
only got the hypo badly," he added.
" Is that a bust of Pallas he has over his secretary yonder ? "
asked the first, discovering the boy for the first time.
" I'm afraid Dr. has got a little muddled over this ex-
178
RESULT OF A CONSULTATION.
cellent ' Old Port,* that he can't see clearly. Why, that's a
bust of Cupid."
"Well," exclaimed the local physician, "I have been here
a hundred times, and never before observed that statue ; but,"
eying the statue fixedly, he continued, *' it looks neither like
Pallas nor Cupid, but rather favors H., and I guess it is a
cast he has had recently made of himself."
Through all this comment and inspection the boy sat as
mute as a post ; but the moment the door closed on the retir-
ing doctors, he clambered down and ran into the sick room.
HYPO" PATIENT DISCHARGING HIS PHYSICIAN.
The old doctor had slipped the customary fee into the
hands of his brethren as he bade them good night, and en-
tered the room of his patient. The latter instantly inquired
as to the result of the consultation. The doctor entered into
an elaborate account of the " diagnosis " and " prognosis "
of the case, which was suddenly brought to a close by the
little boy, who, climbing into a chair on the opposite side of
the bed, asked his father what a " hypo " was.
A DOCTOR DISCHARGED. 179
"You must ask the doctor, my son," replied the father in
a feeble voice.
" Hypo," said the unsuspecting doctor, " is an imag-inary
disease, — the liypochondria, vapors, spleen ; ha, ha, ha ! "
" Well, papa, that's what the doctors said you've got, *cause
I was on top of the book-case an' heard all they said, an'
that's all."
The doctor looked blank. H. arose in his bed, trembling
with rage.
" By the heavens above us, I do believe you, my son ; and
this fellow, this quack, has never had the manliness to tell me
so ; " and leaping to the floor in his brief single garment, he
caught the dumb and astonished " M. D. " by the coat collar
and another convenient portion of his wardrobe, and running
him to the open door, through the hall, he pitched him out
into the midnight darkness, saying, *' There ! I have demon-
strated the truth of the assertion by pitching the doctor out
of doors." H. recovered his health. The doctor recovered
damages for assault and battery.
YII.
CHARLATANS AND IMPOSTORS.
" Every absurdity has a chance to defend itself, for error is always talka-
tive." — Goldsmith.
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 OP A WRETCH.
The City Charlatan.
A CHARLATAN is iiecGSsarily an impostor. He is " one who
prates much in his own favor, and makes unwarrantable
pretensions to skill." He is "one who imposes on others ; a
person who assumes a character for the sole purpose of de-
ception."
Originally the charlatan was one who circulated about the
country, making false pretensions to extraordinary ability and
miraculous cures ; but he is now located in the larger cities,
and is the most dangerous and insinuating of all medical im-
postors. You will find his name in the cheapest daily pa-
pers.
Name, did I say? No, never.
Of all the charlatans advertising in the papers of this city
there is but one who has not advertised under an assumed
name. This is ^nma/aae evidence of imposition. Take up
the daily paper, — the cheapest print is the one that the
(180)
CITY IMPOSTORS.
181
rabble patronize, a curse to any city, — and run your eye over
the ''Medical Oolu7nn." Of the scores of this class adver-
tising therein none dare publish his real name. There is one
impudent fellow, who, while he assumes respectability, and
under his true name, has anup-town office, and obtains some-
thing bordering on an honorable practice, runs the vilest sort
of business, under an assumed name, on a public thorough-
fare down town.
These fellows usually advertise, " Advice Free." This is
not on the modest principle, that, having no brains, they are
scrupulous in not charging for what they cannot give, how-
ever ; but this is to get the unsuspecting into their dens, for
they are shrewd enough to perceive that whatever is " free "
the rabble Avill run after.
CONVINCING EVIDENCE
NSOLVENCY.
When once the victim is within the web, flattering, intim-
idations, and extravagant promises, one or all, generally will
accomplish their aim. As they never expect to see a special
victim again, they squeeze the last dollar from the unfortu-
nate wretch, giving therefor nothing — worse than nothing !
I sent a pretended patient to one of these charlatans not long
since, and, with crocodile tears in his eyes, he related his
182 AN IRISH CERBERUS.
case to the soi-disant doctor, who with great sympatfiy heard
his case, and assured him it was "heart-rending, and, though
very dangerous, he could cure him ; " but the knave compelled
the patient (!) to turn his pockets inside out to assure him
they contained but the proflfered dollar. A small vial of di-
luted spirits nitre was the prescription, for which the doctor
assured the patient he usually received twenty to forty dollars I
I have visited several of these places in disguise, includ-
ing those of female doctors, and those advertising as " mid-
wdves," every one of whom agreed to perform a criminal op-
eration upon the mythical lady for whom I was pretending to
intercede. Their prices ranged from five to two hundred
dollars.
The following painfully ludicrous scene I copy from man-
uscript notes which I made some years ago, respecting a visit
to one of these impostors. I vouch for its truthfulness.
"I next bought a penny paper of a loud-mouthed ur-
chin on the street corner, and, reading it that evening, the
words 'Medical Notice * attracted my attention. It was all
news to me, and I resolved to visit this ' very celebrated '
doctor on the following day, ' advice free.'
** Accordingly I repaired to his office, as designated in the
advertisement. There were several doors wonderfully near
each other, about which were several doctors' signs conspicu-
ously displayed ; and, since I had heard that * two of a trade
seldom agree,' I thought it remarkable that three or four of a
profession should here be huddled together.
" ' Step in the Entry and Ring the Bell,' I read on a
sign, in big yellow letters. I did so, when a big burly Irish-
man answered the summons.
"* An' who'll yeze like to see, sure? " he inquired, with a
broad grin.
"'Dr. A.,' I replied, eying this Cerberus with awakening
suspicion.
"' He's just in, sure. Come, follow me.'
TEMPORARY PARTITIONS.
183
"He led the way across a small room, and through a dark-
ened hall, around which I cast a suspicious glance, noticing,
among other things unusual, that the partitions did not reach
the ceiling. Thence we entered another room, which, from
the roundabout way we had approached, I thought must be
opposite the outer door of Dr. B.'s or Dr. C.'s office.
" Here Pat left me, saying, *The ixcillint doctor will be to
see yeze ferninst he gits through wid the gintleman who was
before your honor.'
AN' WHO'LL YEZE LIKE TO SEE, SURE
"I took a look about the room. The partitions on two sides
w^ere temporary. On one side of the apartment stood an old
mahogany secretary. Through the dingy glass doors I took
a peep. The shelves contained several volumes of * Patent
Office Reports,' odd numbers of an old London magazine,
and such like useless works. On the walls were a few soiled
cheap anatomical plates, such as you will see in 'galleries'
184 A LIVE IRISHMAN.
or * museums ' fitted up by quack doctors, to intimidate the
beliolder. I could look no farther, as the door opened, and a
man entered, who, lookjng nervously around, at once asked
my business.
"'Are you Dr. A.?' I asked.
" * I am. Please be seated. You are sick — very sick,' he
said hurriedly, and in a manner intended to frighten me.
"Five minutes' conversation satisfied us both — him that I
had no money, and me that he had no skill. After vainly
endeavoring to extort from me my present address, he un-
ceremoniously showed me out.
" As I closed the door I looked to the name and number,
and, as I had anticipated, found myself at Dr. B.'s entrance.
"Turning up my coat collar, and tying a large colored silk
handkerchief over the lower part of my face, I knocked at
the third door, Dr. C.'s.
" The same Irishman thrust out his uncombed head and un-
washed face ; the same words in the same vernacular lan-
guage followed.
" * I wish to see Dr. C. ,' I replied, changing my voice slightly.
" * He's in, jist. It never rains but it pours. Himself it is
that has a bull}^ crowd of patients the day ; but coome in.'
" He did not recognize me — that was certain ; so I followed,
and was led through a labyrinth of rooms and halls, as be-
fore, and ushered into a small room, where the polite and
loquacious Pat offered me a chair, and giving the right
earlock a pull and his left foot a slip back, he said, with his
broadest grin and most murderous English, —
" * I'll be shpaking the doctor to come to yeze at once in-
tirely.'
"*But he has others with whom he is engaged, you said
but a moment ago.*
" * Ah, yeze niver mind. Theyze ben't gintlemen like yer-
self, if yeze do come disguised ; ' and with a * whist ' he tip-
toed across the room, applied his ear to the keyhole of the
door a moment, and returned in the same manner.
IRISH TWINS. 185
" ' It's all right ; now I'll go for the doctor ; ' but still he
lingered.
" * Well, why the d 1 don't you go? ' I said, impatiently.
*** Ah, gintlemen always come disguised to see Dr. A. —
no — Dr. B., I mean.'
« ' 'Tis Dr. C. I asked for,' I interrupted.
" * Yis, yis,' he replied, collecting his muddled senses. * Yis,
sure, you did, an' gintlemen always swear — two signs yeze a
gintleman. Could yeze spare a quarter for a poor divil ? By
the howly mither, I git narry a cint, bating what sich gintle-
men as yeze gives me. I have a big family to ate at home.
There's Bridget ' (counting his fingers by the way of a re-
minder), * she's sick with the baby ; then there's the twins, —
two of thim, as I'm a sinner, — ■ and little lame Mike, what's
got the rackabites, the doctor says — '
"'Got the what?' I interrupted.
"*The rackabites, or some sich dumbed disease,' here-
plied, scratching his head.
"'O, you mean rickets. But how old are the twins, and
Mike, and the baby?'
"' Will, let me see. The baby is tin days, and not chris-
tened yit, for we've not got the money for Father Prince,
and there's Mike is siven, and Mary is four, and Bridget jun-
ior is five.'
"'And the twins?' I asked, not a little amused.
" ' Yis, them's Mary and Bridget junior, — four and five.'
"I interrupted him by a laugh, gave him the desired quar-
ter, and told him to hasten the doctor, which request he pro-
ceeded to execute.
" On the heels of retiring Pat the door opened, and the
same doctor I had before seen entered.
" *I want to consult Dr. C.,' I drawled out.
"'I am Dr. C.,' he replied, measuring me from head to
foot sharply.
"Fearing he would penetrate my disguise, I hastened my
186 THE TRIPLET DOCTOR.
errand. ^ Having an ulcerated and painful tooth I wish re-
moved, or — *
" ' This ain't a dentist's office ; but if you have any peculiar
disease, I am the physician of all others to relieve you.'
"1 being sure now of my man, that this same villain was
running three offices under as many different aliases, my
next object was to get safely out of his den.
"'I have no need of any such services as you intimate.
'Tis only the tooth — '
" Here he interrupted me by an impatient gesture, intimat-
ing that only a descendant of the monosyllable animal once
chastised by one Balaam would have entered his office to
have a tooth drawn. Admitting the truth of his assertion,
and offering my humblest apology, I hurriedly withdrew
from this triplet doctor.
"Safely away, I reflected as follows: Here, now, is this
scoundrel, by the assistance of an equally ignorant Irishman,
conducting at least three offices on a public thoroughfare,
under as many assumed names.
" ^ Why, the fellow is a perfect chameleon!' I exclaimed,
walking away. *He changes his name to suit the applicants
to the various rooms. You want Dr. A., — he is that indi-
vidual. You desire to see Dr. B., — when, presto/ he is at
once the identical man. And so it goes, while his amiable
assistant seems to be making a nice little thing of it on his
own account. Why all these intricate passages ? and why was
I each time taken around through them, and out through a
different door from that which I entered ? Did a legitimate
business require such mazy windings as I had just passed
through? Did Dr. A., B., or C, or whatever his name
might be, rob his patients in one place and thrust them out
at another, that they might not be able to testify where and
by whom they had been victimized ? Was not the newspaper
proprietor who advertised these several offices a particeps
criminis in the transaction? And with these facts and
BOSTON CHARLATANS. 187
suggestions I leave the fellow, who by no means is a solitary
example of this sort of fraud."
On another street in this city is another branch from the
Upas tree. I do not wish to advertise for him, hence omit
his names, which are legion. Two of them begin with the
letter D. The true name of this impostor commences with
an M. He is old enough to be better. I know of patients
who have been fleeced by him without receiving the least
benefit, when the knowledge necessary to prescribe for their
recovery, or of so simple a case, might be possessed by even
the office boy.
You go to his first office and inquire for the first alias.
The usher, a boy sometimes, takes you in, and, slipping out
the back door, he calls the old doctor from the next office.
They are not connected. Through a glass door he takes a
survey of you, to assure himself that you have not been vic-
timized by him already under his other aliases.
If he so recognizes you, he summons a convenient "assist-
ant" to personate the doctor, and thus you are robbed a
second time.
History of a Knave.
The following is a brief and true history of one of the
vilest charlatans and impostors now * practising in Boston.
He has amassed a fortune within a few years by the most
barefaced villanies ever resorted to by man. He is one of the
most abominable charlatans, who, for the almighty dollar,
would willingly sacrifice the lives of his unfortunate victims,
who, by glowing newspaper statements and seductive prom-
ises, have been drawn into his murderous den. By the side
of such unprincipled villains, the highwaymen, the Dick
Turpins, with their " Stand and deliver ! " or " Your money
or your life ! " are angels of mercy, for the former rob you
of your last dollar, and either endanger your life by giving
you useless drugs that check not the disease, or hasten your
12
188 BOOT-BLACK AND BOTTLE-WASHER.
demise by poisonous compounds given at random, the viru-
lent properties of which the vampires know but little and
care leos.
Their boast that their remedies are ^^ purely vegetable^'*
** hence uninjurious," is as false as their pretensions to skill,
and is counted for nothing when we know that vegetable
poisons are more numerous, and often more rapid and violent
in their action, than minerals. Both calomel and other min-
erals are often given by these charlatans. I say given ^ for
few of them know enough to write a legible prescription,
much less to write the voluminous works which they put
forth on "manhood," "physiology of woman," etc., which
are but so many advertisements for their vile trade and crim-
inal practices, and are intended to alarm and corrupt the
young and unwary into whose hands they may unfortunately
fall.
This fellow, whom 1 am now to describe, who sometimes pre-
fixes " professor " to his name, was born in the State of New
Hampshire, and when a young man came to this city to seek
his fortune. After various ups and downs, he became boot-
black, porter, and general lackey in the Pearl Street House,
then in full blast. He was said to be a youth of rather
prepossessing, though insinuating address, and being con-
stantly on the alert for odd pennies and " dimes," succeeded
in keeping himself in pocket-money without committing
theft, or otherwise compromising his liberty. But the odd
change, and his meagre salary, did not long remain in
pocket, for the courtesans, who are ever on the alert for un-
sophisticated youth who throng to the cities, managed to
obtain the lion's share from this embryo doctor, whose, future
greatness he himself never half suspected. Disease, the
usual result of intercourse with such creatures, was the con-
sequent inheritance of this young man.
" What, in the name of Heaven, shall I now do?" he asked
himself, in his distress and despair. " Money I have none.
OGod! what shall I do?"
AN EMBRYO STUDENT.
189
" Drown yourself," replied the tempter.
Such fellows seldom drown. Females, their victims,
drown ; but who ever heard of a natural-born villain commit-
ting suicide, unless to escape the threatening halter?
No, he did not drown, though it had been better for
humanity if he had. He went to an old advertising charla-
tan, who then kept an office in a lower street of this city, a
mercenary old vampire, named Stevens. Into the august
presence of the charlatan young M. entered, and, trembling
and weeping, told his history.
A BOSTON QUACK EXAMINING A STUDENT.
"Have you got any money, young man?" growled the old
doctor, wheeling around, and for the first time condescend-
ing to notice the poor wretch.
" No," he sobbed in a pitiful voice.
" Then what do you come here for, sir ? ** roared the doc-
190 A BARGAIN MADE.
tor, whose pity was a thing of the past. His soul was impene-
trable to the appeal of suffering as the hide of the rhinoceros
to a leaden bullet.
The young man, fortunately, did not know this fact, and
persevered.
" I thought I might work for you to pay for treatment.
O, I'll do anything — sweep your office, wash up the floors
and bottles, black your boots, do anything and everything, if
you'll only cure me. O, do I Say you will, sir ! " and the
young man writhed in agony of suspense.
"Humph 1 " grunted the old doctor, contemplatingly.
Doubtless he was considering the advantages which might
accrue from accepting the proposition of this earnest appli-
cant, for, after eying him sharply, and beating the devil's
tattoo for a few moments upon his table, the doctor conde-
scended to " look into his case," and finally to treat the young
man's disease upon the proposed terms.
M. began his apprenticeship by sweeping the office, and
the old doctor held him to the very letter of the agreement,
keeping him at the most menial service, — boot-blacking,
bottle-washing, door-tending, etc., — protracting his disease
as he found the young man useful, till the old knave dared
no longer delay the cure, for thereby the victim might go
elsewhere for help. When cured, M. engaged to continue
work for the small compensation that the doctor offered,
especially since he and the old man had begun to understand
each other pretty well, and each was equally unscrupulous
as to the sponging of the unfortunate victims who fell into
their hands.
When the doctor was observed to prescribe from any par-
ticular bottle, M. took a mental iliemorandum thereof till
such time as he could take a look at the label, thereby learn-
ing the prescription for such disease ; and the result was a
decision that if this was the science of healing, " it didn't take*
much of a man to be a" — doctor.
AN "INSTITUTION." 191
When the old doctor was absent, M. would prescribe on
his own account, charge an extra dollar or two as perquisites,
and deposit the balance in the doctor's till.
In course of time, by this process of extortion, solicitations,
and the increasing perquisites, M. was enabled to set up
doctoring on his own account. The old doctor died, and M.
had it all his own way.
The young self-styled doctor saw no particular need of
making effort to acquire medical knowledge, but a diploma
to hang upon his office walls, with the few disgusting ana-
tomical plates (appropriated from Dr. S.), which were ad-
mirably adapted to intimidate his simple-minded dupes, —
a diploma from some medical society would give character
to the " institution," and such he would obtain.
Being cited to court as defendant in a certain case, this
soi-disant "M. D." was compelled to retract a former state-
ment that he had attended medical lectures in Pennsylvania
College, where he graduated with honors, and come down
to the truthful statement, /or once in his life, and swear that
he had obtained his diploma by purchase.
His present rooms — house and office — are located in the
heart of the city, and are not exceeded for convenience and
neatness by those of the respectable practitioner. Having
amassed a great fortune out of the credulity, misfortunes, and
passions of the unfortunate, he has settled down to the
plane of the more respectable advertising doctors, and the
terrifying plates no longer cover the walls of the best recep-
tion-room ; but a few valuable pictures and the Philadelphia
diploma are conspicuously displayed above the elegant fur-
niture and valuable articles of virtu.
The same extortions and reprehensible practices are still
resorted to in order to keep up this " institution." His
earlier history is gathered from his own statements, by piece-
meal, by a confidential "student," the latter portion hy per-
sonal investigation of the writer.
192 PURCHASED DIPLOMAS.
Respecting the matter of purchasing diplomas, I will state
that I have seen a ** Regular Medical Diploma *' advertised in
the New York Herald for one hundred dollars. The name
originally written therein is extracted by oxalic acid, or
other chemicals. I knew a physician who parted with his
Latin diploma for fifty dollars.
I here warn the youth, and the public in general, against
those advertised ^^ institutes,'^ though the name may be
selected from that of some benevolent individual, — to sfive
it a look of a benevolent character, — even though it be a
"Nightengale," or a " Peabody," or a " St. Mary," and man-
aged, ostensibly, under the sanction of the church or state —
beware of it. Without, it is the whited sepulchre, within, the
blood, flesh, and bones of dead men, women, and children.
Some years since there was found, after the flight of one
Dr. Jaques (?), in a vault in the city of Boston, the bones
of some half score infants. The murderous charlatan escaped
the halter he so richly deserved, and was practising in a
New England village not above six years since.
Another impostor, who has been extensively advertised in
this city under an assumed name — selected to correspond
with the fimiliar name of a celebrated New York (also a
late Boston) physician and surgeon — who not only cheek-
ily claims to be an "M. D.," but assumes the titles of
F. R. S., etc., was but a short time before a dry goods seller
on Hanover Street. He never read a standard medical
work in his life. Although the villain has gone to parts un-
known to the writer, the concern he recently represented as
"consulting physician" is in full blast, and the same name
and titles are blazoned forth daily in the public prints.
Men get rich in these "institutes," take in an "assistant"
for a few weeks, then sell out to the novus homo, and the
thing goes on under the old name until the new man gains
strength and confidence sufllcient to carry it along under his
own ox his assumed title.
A MODERN HARPY. 193
Female Harpies.
Under the name of "female physician," ** midwife," etc.,
the most illicit and nefarious atrocities are daily practised by
the numerous harpies who infest all our principal cities.
The mythological harpies were represented as having the
faces of women, heartless, with filthy bodies, and claws sharp
and strong for fingers, which, once fastened upon human
flesh, never relaxed till the last drop of life's blood was
wrung from their unfortunate victim.
Virgil thus expressively described them in the third book
of the iEneid : —
" When from the mountain-tops, with hideous cry
And clattering wings, the filthy harpies fly ;
Monsters more fierce offending Heaven ne'er sent
From hell's abyss for human punishment;
With virgin faces, but with obscene,
With claws for hands, and looks forever lean ! "
I will describe but one of the modern harpies of Boston,
appealing to the reader if our text above is too severe.
More than forty years ago, a young, fair, and promising
girl came to this city from the White Mountains of New
Hampshire. From her maiden home, near Meredith Village,
from under the humble roof of Christian parents, she wan-
dered into the haunts of vice and the abodes of wretchedness
and disease in the lower part of Boston.
Her maiden name was Elizabeth Leach. You will find
her name in the City Directory (1871) ''Madam Ester, mid-
wife,''
We have not space to write out her whole history, nor in-
clination to spread before the refined reader the first years
of the gay life of this attractive damsel, the seductive and
sinful debaucheries of the fascinating, unprincipled woman,
nor the more repulsive declination of the diseased and ma-
levolent bawd I
194 A GIRL LOST.
The writer has seen a picture of her home in New Hamp-
shire, a daguerreotype of her in her virginity, and a painting,
taken from her sittings, in middle life. In stature, she is
tall and stout ; in manner, coarse and repulsive. If ever I
saw a woman carrying, stamped in every lineament of her
countenance, a hard, heartless, soulless, murderous expres-
sion, that woman is Madam Ester. Neither the tears, the
heart-anguishes, nor the life's blood of the fatherless infant,
the husbandless mother, the orphaned or friendless maiden,
could draw a sympathizing look or expression from the har-
dened features of that wretched woman. She is the John
Allen of Boston,
For years she has carried on, under the cloak of a " mid-
wife," the most cruel and reprehensible occupation which
ever disgraced an outraged community. By extortionate
prices she has gained no inconsiderable wealth, and her
house, though located in a narrow, darkened alley, or court,
is fitted up with an elegance equalling that of some of our
best and wealthiest merchants. From parlor to attic, it is
splendidly furnished.
She assured me she hated mankind with inexpressible ha-
tred; that man had been her ruin, the instrument of her
disease, and would eventually be the cause of her death.
She cursed both man and her Maker !
Last spring there appeared an advertisement in a city
paper of a young girl who was lost, or abducted from the
home of her parents, in which the young lady was described
as being but sixteen to seventeen years of age, of light com-
plexion, blue eyes, of but medium height, named Mary ;
and as she took no clothes but those she had on, never before
went from home without her parents' consent, and had no
trouble at home, her absence could not be accounted for.
Any information respecting her would be gratefully received
by her distressed parents.
She was all this time at the home of Madam Ester.
END OF A WRETCH. 195
The young man who completed her ruin, like the con-
temptible cur he was, deserted her in her distress, leaving
her in the hands of the miserable wretch above described.
The girl had one hundred and twenty dollars. A part of it
was her own money ; some she borrowed, having some influ-
ential friends, and the balance her father gave her, ostensibly
for the purchase of clothing.
The old vampire appropriated every cent of the sum, and
in fourteen days turned the weak and wretched girl into the
street, without sufficient money to pay her coach fare to her
father's house. A young girl then in the employ of the
unfeeling old wretch gave her five dollars, and she informed
her kind benefactress that she should go home and say that
she had been at service in a family on Beacon Street, but
being sick, could earn no greater wages than the sum then
in her possession. " The pale and sickly countenance of the
poor girl, after the abuse and torture she had undergone,"
said my informant, " certainly would seem to corroborate her
story."
Since the above was written the wicked old wretch has
died — died a natural death, sitting in her chair!
On the last day of July, 1871, she sent a girl, a well-
dressed and very lady-like appearing young woman, to my
office, to know if I could be at liberty to give her a consul-
tation that afternoon. She sent no address ; merely a " wo-
man with a cancer of the breast." She came. She intro-
duced her business, not her name. I pronounced her case
hopeless, advised her to "close up her worldly affairs, and
make her peace with God and mankind, as she could live but
a short time." This was given the more plainly, since she
" demanded to know the worst," and because of her bold at-
tempt to browbeat me into treating her hopeless case. The
cancer was immense, had been cut once by Dr. , of this
city. Her attendant told me that the old woman never
ceased to berate me for my truthful prognosis, and that from
196 A WEDDING TROUSSEAU.
that time she gave up all hope of recovery, and soon closed
her nefarious practice. I have since gathered all the infor-
mation respecting her that was possible. I knew at sight
that I had a remarkable woman to deal with, and, agreeably
to her invitation, I took another physician, a graduate of
Harvard College, and went to her house, ostensibly to con-
sult over her case. . . .
A woman who has known madam for many years told me
that the old woman was familiar with chemicals, and by the
use of acids and alkalies could completely destroy the flesh
and bones of infants. She had never seen her do it, but
had seen the chemicals, and referred me to persons who had
seen the dead body of a female brought out from the house
at midnight, and taken away in a wagon. She said she prac-
tised great cruelty upon the unfortunate victims who had
been placed under her hands, and that their cries had often
been heard by the neighbors living in the court.
She said that madam claimed to have been the wife of a
policeman who was killed at Fort Hill, and that she was
also since married to a Captain . The latter was untrue.
Madam told me she once thought she was married, but it
was a deception on her — a mock marriage. She possessed
great quantities of magnificent clothing, — rich dresses of
silk, satin, velvet, etc., — and a beautiful wedding trousseau^
which, but a short time before her death, she caused to be
brought out and displayed before her.
"O, take them away ; I never shall wear them," she said.
And she never did.
There is another female physician now residing in this
city, who I know has accumulated a considerable property
as midwife ; but if report, and assertions of victims, are true,
she has gained it by threats and extortions. She is now out
of practice, or nearly. Her modus operandi was to take
the unfortunate female, treat her very tenderly, get hold of
her secret, learn the gentleman's name, business, and wealth,
ROBBERY AND BLACKMAIL. 197
and then — especially if he was a family man before — make
him "come down," through fear of exposure. Men have
"come down" with thousands, little by little, till they were
ruined pecuniarily under this fearful blackmailing. I doubt
if money could hire her to perform a criminal operation.
She can make more money by keeping the unfortunate girl,
and blackmailing the seducer, or any other individual who
can be scared into the trap, provided the guilty one has no
money. " Blessed be nothing," said the Arab.
These people carry on their trade very .quietly. Their
very next door neighbors may know nothing of the unlawful
acts committed right under their noses. It is for the interest
of all concerned to keep everything quiet. Their customers,
and even their victims, come and go after nightfall.
There is still another class, mostly males, practising in
this city, who, under fair pretences and great promises, get
the patients' money, and give them no equivalent therefor.
Beyond the robbery, — for that is what it is ; no more nor
less, — and the protracting of a disease (or giving nature
more time, as the case may be), — they do the applicant no
injury. They receive a fee, calculating it to a nicety, ac-
cording to the depth of your pocket, give some simple mix-
ture, and bow you out.
Many an honest patient, seeing their high-flown advertise-
ments in the dailies, weeklies, even religious ( ! ) papers,
from month to month, is induced to visit these impostors.
Their offices may be in a less public street, in a private res-
idence, and have every outward appearance of respectability.
There is a class of male practitioners, not unusually hav-
ing a Latin diploma, who never appear in the prints. They
are the "Nurse Gibbon" class, who employ one or more
females to drum patients for them. The following is a
truthful statement respecting a visit to one in 1850 : —
" On my arrival on the steamer Penobscot at Boston, the
lady met me, and, according to arrangement, took me to see
198 BIDDING FOR A FEE.
'her physician.' His office was on Chambers Street, left
side, a few doors from Cambridge Street, Boston. The doc-
tor was an elderly, pompous individual, who wore gold
spectacles, an immense fob chain, and chewed Burgundy
pitch. Let this suffice for his description. Poor man ! for
if his own theology is true, he has gone where Burgundy
pitch will be very likely to melt. Excuse this passing trib-
ute to his memory, my dear reader.
Notwithstanding my friend's lavish praise of her doctor,
the first sight of -him failed to inspire me with confidence. I
was introduced, and the doctor swelled up with his own im-
portance, and said, impressively, —
"Those physicians — amiable men, no doubt — who have
treated your case-ah have been all wrong in their diagnosis-
ah." This was his prelude, as he counted my pulse by a
large gold watch, which he held conspicuously before me.
"Your kind friend and benefactress has saved your life-ah,
by conducting you to me before too late-ah." He stopped
to watch the effect of this bid for a high fee before pro-
ceeding.
"Ah, sir, had you but come to me first-ah, you would now
be rejoicing in perfect health-ah ; whereas you have nar-
rowly escaped death and eternal torments-ah."
He again took breath, looking very solemn.
" But, sir, I never heard of you before this lady wrote to
me," I said.
"True-ah. I do not advertise myself. The veriest quack
may advertise-ah. Your case is very dangerous. Hepatitis,
cum nephritis-ah" he soliloquized, shaking his head very
wisely, while my friend nodded, as if to say, "There ! I told
you so. He knows all about it."
"Yes, very dangerous-ah. But take my medicines; my
pills — hepatica-lobus, and my neuropathicum-ah, and they
will restore you to health and happiness-ah, in a few weeks-
ah ; " and he rubbed his palms complacently, as if in antici-
pation of a good fat fee for his prescription.
SOLD- AH I 199
"Will they cure this?" I asked, turning my head, and
placing a finger upon a tumor on the right hand side of my
ueck.
"0-ah, let me see." And so saying, he took a brief sur-
vey of the protuberance, and coolly remarked that it was of
no material importance. As that was, to my mind, of great
consequence, I was dumbfounded by his indifference to its
importance.
Selecting a box of pills, and a vial of transparent liquid,
the doctor presented them to me with a flourish, saying, in
his blandest manner, —
"All there; directions inside-ah ; ten dollars-ah."
" What ! " And I arose in astonishment, gazing alternately
at the doctor and my friend, but could not utter another
word. I was but a country greenhorn, you know, and quite
unused to city prices.
My friend took the doctor aside, when, after a moment's
conversation between them, he returned, and said that "in
consideration of the recommendation of the lady, he would
take but five dollars-ah."
I paid the bill, and, quite disgusted, took my departure.
That evening I carried the medicines to a druggist, re-
questing him to inform me what they were. After exam-
ining them, he replied, —
"The liquid is simply sweet spirits of nitre, diluted,"
looking over his glasses at me suspiciously, I thought.
"These, I should say, are blue pills, a mild preparation of
mercury," returning me the pills. A second druggist, to
whom I applied, told me the same, and, knowing they were
not what I required for a scrofulous tumor, I threw them
into the gutter. Ah I
VIII.
ANECDOTES OF PHYSICIANS.
" I find, Dick, that you are in the habit of taking my best jokes, and pass-
ing them off as your own. Do you call that the conduct of a gentleman ? "
** To be sure, Tom. Why, a true gentleman will always take a joke from a
friend."
A WANT SUPPLIED. — ORIGINAL ANECDOTES OP ABERNETHY. — A LIVE IRISH-
MAN. — MADAM ROTHSCHILD. LARGE FEET. — A SHANGHAI ROOSTER.
SPREADING HERSELF. — KEROSENE. — " 8ALERATUS." — 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. — "l WANT TO BE AN ANGEL." TOOTH«
DRAWING. — DR. BEECHEB VS. DR. HOLMES. — STEALING TIME. — CHOLERA
FENCED IN. — "A JOKE THAT's NOT A JOKE." — A DRY SHOWER-BATH. —
PARBOILING AN OLD LADY.
"There would be no difficulty in multiplying anecdotes
attributed to Abernethy (or other celebrated physicians) ad
libitum, but there are three objections to such a course. First,
there are many told of him which never happened ; others,
which may possibly have occurred, you find it impossible to
authenticate ; and lastly, there is a class which, if they hap-
pened to Dr. Abernethy, certainly happened to others before
he was born. In fact, when a man once gets a reputation
of doing or saying odd things, every story in which the chief
person is unknown or unremerabered, is given to the next
man whose reputation for such is remarkable." — Memoirs
of Dr. Abernethy, by George Macilwain, F. R. G. S., etc., etc.
Notwithstanding -the great number of authentic anecdotes
of physicians which might be collected together, Mr. Camp-
bell, the experienced antiquarian bookseller, of Boston,
(200)
SOAP AND WATER. 201
assures me there is no such book in print. I have been
many years collecting such, and for this chapter I have se-
lected therefrom those most chaste, amusing, instructive, and
authentic.
The following original anecdote of the great English sur-
geon I obtained verbally from Mr. Sladden, of Chicago : —
"My grandmother once visited Dr. Abernethy, with her
eldest son, my uncle, living in London, to consult the great
physician respecting an inveterate humor of the scalp, with
which the child was afflicted.
" There were a great many patients in waiting, and when
it came my grandmother's turn, she walked up to the great
man, and removing the boy's cap, presented the case for his
inspection in silence. He took a quick glance at the humory
head, turned to the old lady, and said, —
"'Madam, the best thing I can recommend for that disease
is a plenty of warm water and soap. And, by the way, if
that don't remove it, the next best thing is to apply freely
soap and warm water. Five guineas, if you please, ma'am.'
"As my grandmother was the embodiment of neatness,
she never forgave the doctor for this broad intimation of the
questionableness of her neatness."
Dr. Stowe told the following story of Dr. Abermethy and
a live Irishman : —
"It occurred at Bath. A crowd of pupils, myself one of
them, were following Mr. Abernethy through the crowded
wards of the hospital, when the apparition of a poor Irish-
man, with the scantiest shirt I ever saw, jumped from a bed,
and literally throwing himself on his knees at the doctor's
feet, presented itself. We were startled for a moment, but
the poor fellow, with all his country's eloquence, poured out
such a torrent of praise, prayers, and blessings, and illus-
trated it with such ludicrous pantomimic displays of his leg,
all splintered and bandaged, that we were not long left in
doubt.
202
A LEG STORY.
" * That's the leg, your hon-nor. Glory be to God. Yer
honiior*s the buy what saved it. May the heavens be yer
bed. Long life to yer honnor. To the divil with the spal-
peens that wanted to cut it off!* etc.
"With some difficulty the patient was replaced in bed,
and the doctor said, —
" ' I am glad your leg is doing well, but never kneel again,
except to your Maker.'
" The doctor took the opportunity of giving us a clinical
lecture about diseases and their constitutional treatment.
Every sentence Aberneth}^ uttered, Pat confirmed.
OR. ABERNETHY IN THE HOSPITAL.
His
"*Thrue for yer honnor; divil a lie at all, at all.
honnor's the grathe doctor, entirely,' etc.
'*At the slightest allusion to his case, off went the bed-
clothes, and up went the leg, as if taking aim at the ceiling.
' That's it, be gorra ! and a betther leg than the villain's that
wanted to slice it off, entirely.'
"The students actually roared with laughter, but Aber-
FOOT-BLOCKS. 203
nethy retained his usual gravity throughout the whole of the
ludicrous scene."
Madam Rothschild, mother of the mighty capitalists, at-
tained the great age of ninety-eight. Her wits, which were
of no common order, were preserved to the end. During
her last illness, when surrounded by her family and some
friends, she turned to her physician, and said, in a suppliant
tone, —
"My dear doctor, I pray you try to do something for me."
"Madam, what can I do? I cannot make you young
again."
"No, doctor; nor do I want to be young again. But I
want to continue to grow old."
Large Feet.
Dr. Wood was a man of large " understanding." One day
at a presidential reception he was standing in a large crowd,
when he felt two feet pressing on his patent leathers. Look-
ing down, he discovered that the said feet belonged to a
female. Wood was a bachelor, and at first the sensation
was delightful. It made inexpressibly delicious thrills run
all up and down his body. But as the impression was all on
the lady's side, the above sensations became gradually super-
seded by those not quite so delightful, and finally the pres-
sure became very uncomfortable. Mustering courage, he
said, very gently, —
" Madam, if you please, you are standing on my feet — "
"Your feet, sir, did you say?" For the crowd was so
dense that she could not possibly see to the ground.
"Yes, madam, on my feet — this last half hour," very
politely.
"O, I beg a thousand pardons, sir; I thought I was
standing on a block. They are quite large, sir,'' trying to
remove.
" Yes, ma'am, quite large ; but yours covered 'em, madam '^
13
204 . HENS AND ROOSTERS.
A Shanghai Rooster.
Many people sufter more from the anticipation of trouble
than by the actual infliction. The world is full of "trouble-
borrowers." They generally keep a stock on hand to lend
to those who unfortunately are compelled to listen to them.
The following is a mitigated case : —
" Sir," said a physician visiting a patient in the suburbs of
this city, to a neighbor, "your Shanghai greatly disturbs my
patient."
. " Is it possible ? " asked the neighbor, expressing surprise.
"Yes, the bird is a terrible nuisance, giving the patient no
peace, day or night, he informs me ; but he did not want to
complain."
" But," replied the sceptical owner, " I don't see how he
can annoy neighbor B. Why, he only crows twice in the
night, and only two or three times at regular intervals during
the day."
" Yes ; but you don't take into consideration all the times
the patient is expecting him to crow."
Ik
Spreading Herself.
In a country town in Maine the Writer knew an elderly
physician, who had married a wife much younger than him-
self, whose aristocratic notions hardly coincided with those
of this democratic people, though she had now lived here
several years. Finally a young physician came into the
])l<ice and commenced practice. Among the patients that he
obtained from the old doctor's former practice was one
named H%gins.
Mrs. Higgins, whose daughter had just recovered from
a fever, gave a party, to which the families of both doctors,
with the two ministers, and others, were invited.
^*' Will you go to Mrs. Higgins's party?" asked a neighbor
of the old doctor's wife.
A BIG SPREAD.
205
'^Yes, I intend to go, by all means, for I want to see old
Mother Higgins and her new doctor spread themselves."
This reminds me of the following story, which is too good
to be lost : —
"*Once upon a time,* an old lady sent her grandson to set
a turkey, — not the gobbler, as did the parson in Mrs.
Stowe's * Minister's Wooing/ On his return, the following
dialogue occurred : —
" ' Sammy, my dear, have you set her?*
***Yes, grandma,' replied Hopeful.
AN EXTENSIVE SET."
"^ Fixed the nest up all nice, Sammy?*
"*0, mighty fine, grandma.*
"*Did you count the eggs, Sammy, and get an odd
number?* ^^
*** Yes, grandma.*
***How many eggs did you set her on, Sammy, dear?*
" ' One hundred and twenty-one, grandma.*
"*0, goodness gracious ! Why did you put so many eggs
under her, Sammy ? *
206 NEWSPAPER PRESCKIPTIONS.
"'Why, grandma, I wanted to see the old thing spread
herself.'"
Kerosene.
Some editors are continually making themselves ridic-
ulous, as well as endangering the life of some person as
ignorant in the matter as themselves, by publishing at ran-
dom " remedies " for certain complaints, of both of which —
remedy and disease — they knew nothing. The following I
cut from a paper : —
" One thing I will mention which may be useful to some
one. Kerosene oil has been found effective as a vermifuge.
It is given by the mouth for round stomach worms, and as
an enema for pin worms. It is free from the irritation
which follows the use of spirits turpentine, and is equally as
effective." (No directions as to quantity at a dose.)
An Irishwoman in Hartford, Conn., spelling out the above
in a newspaper, concluded to give her child, a boy of ten, a
dose, under the belief that " wurrums ailed the child," and as
it was harmless ( ?) , she would give him the benefit of its
harmlessness, and her ignorance, and administered accord-
ingly a tea-cup full!
Frightful symptoms supervened, — colic, vomiting, etc., —
when a doctor was sent for, who being absent, his student
- — who hardly understood the danger of the case, and was a
bit of a wag, by the way — sent the following prescription : —
"R. Run a wick down the child's throat; any lamp or
candle wick will do, provided it is long enough ; set fire to
the end left outside, and use him for a lamp till the doctor
arrives.'' Selah.
This may seem too ridiculous to believe, but it is the
truth, nevertheless.
Saleratus vs. Sugar.
Early one summer morning, while practising in Plymouth,
Conn., the writer was startled by a loud knock at the front
PAT'S "PIZENING.
207
door, which I hastened to answer. There stood an Irish-
man, well known as living in a little hut, down on the
" Meadows," whose name was Fitzgibbon. He was all out of
breath, and the great drops of sweat were rolling all down
his rough face, which he was endeavoring to mop up with a
I
'0, DOCTHER, DEAR, I'VE PIZENED ME BOY.
huge bandanna handkerchief. As soon as he could possibly
articulate, he exclaimed, —
" O, docther, docther ! take yourself — down to that
sha-anty as quick as ye conva-niantly can, plaze."
"Why, what's the matter at the shanty, Fitzgibbon?"
" O, docther, dear, I've pizehed my boy ; what will I do
intirely?"
208 SALERATUS AND SUGAR.
"How did it happen? Don't be alarmed, Fitzgibbon."
For his manner was frightful.
" Will, I'll till yeze. He's been sick wid the masles. Will,
he's ate nothin' for a hole wake, and in the night he wanted
some bread an' sugar, do ye see? an' I had no candle, an' I
wint m the dark, an' spread him some bread, an' he ate it
intirely, an' it was saleratus I put on it, instead of sugar ;
an' it's now atin' him intirely ! O, dear, dear, that I should
iver give him saleratus instead o' sugar ! "
"Well, Fitzgibbon, if the boy is so big a fool that he
don't know the difference between saleratus and sugar, let
him die."
"O, docther, don't say so !" exclaimed the poor fellow, in
agony.
Then I suddenly recollected that the sense of taste was
always vitiated in measles, and thus excused the matter,
adding, —
"Now, run home, 'Gibbon, and give the little fellow a tea-
spoonful of vinegar in a little sugar and water, — not sale-
ratus and water, mind you."
"No, by the great St. Patrick, I'll niver mistake the
likes again," he earnestly interrupted, when I went on,
saying, —
"Then in half an hour give him another tea-spoonful, and
that will relieve the * gnawing at his stomach,' and by an
hour I'll drive round there and see him, on my way to
Watertown."
"I'll trust to yeze to git it out of him. God bless yeze ; "
and away he darted, saying, "O, howly mother! that I
should give him saleratus for sugar ! "
His LAST Joke.
A celebrated English physician, who was also a distin-
guished humorist, when about to die, requested that none of
bis friends be invited to his funeral.
LAST JOKES.
209
i
A friend inquired the reason of this remarkable request.
"Because," sighed the dying but polite humorist, "it is a
courtesy which can never be returned."
Charles Matthews, the celebrated comedian, who died in
1837, put the above entirely in the shade by his last joke.
The attending physician had left Mr. Matthews somemed>-
icine in a vial, which a friend was to administer during the
night. By mistake, he gave the patient some ink from a
vial which stood near. On discovering the error, his friend
exclaimed, "O, gracious Heavens, Matthews, I have given
you ink, instead of medicine."
"Never — never mind, my dear boy," said the dying man,
faintly; ^^ I will swallow apiece of blotting jpajper"
An astonished Negro.
Dr. Robertson, of Charleston, S. C, who attended the
writer in 1852, with the yellow fever, was as competent,
benevolent, and faithful a
physician as I ever had the
pleasure of meeting. His
services were in great demand
durins: the
raofms:
of the
"yellow Jack," and on one
occasion he was absent from
his house and office two whole
days and a night. His fam-
ily became alarmed, and a
faithful old negro was sent in
search of his master. It was
no uncommon occurrence to
see a black man traversing
the streets, ringing a bell,
and crying a " lost child ; "
but to see a slave searching for his lost master, was almost
a phenomenon.
LOST MARSER! LOST MARSER !
210 MASSER'S LOST.
It was quite dark, and the old negro was shuffling along
King Street, crying, " Masser Rob'son lost, Masser Rob'sou
lost," when suddenly he was brought to a halt, and silenced
by some one saying, —
"What's that you are crying, Neb?" His name was Neb-
uchadnezzar.
" O, de Lord ! if Masser Dr. Rob'son hain't been an'
loss hisself !"
"You old fool, Neb, I am your master — Dr. Robertson.
Don't you know me now?" exclaimed a familiar voice.
Sure enough, it was the doctor, returning from his numer-
ous visits, tired and dust-covered.
The whole thing solemnly impressed the old darky, who,
a day or two later, was met by a ranting Methodist, vulgarly
termed a ^^ carpet-bagger,^' who, in a solemn voice, said, —
"My colored friend, have you 3^et found the Lord Jesus?"
" O, golly, masser ! " exclaimed the old negro in astonish-
ment ; " hab de Lord done gone an' loss hisself? "
(I have seen the last part of this anecdote floating about
the newspapers ; but did ever any one see the former con-
nection, or even the latter before 1852?)
The writer was but a poor medical student, and an in-
valid, seeking here a more salubrious climate, away from the
frosts and snows of his northern home, and though twenty
years have since flown, I have not forgotten, and never
shall, the kindness and attention received at the hands of the
benevolent Dr. Robertson. While many who went out with
me that fall fell victims to the fearful endemic before Jack
Frost put a stop to its ravages, I escaped the grim monster
Death ; and to the superior knowledge and efficient treatment
of Dr. R., with the excellent care of the benevolent landlady,
Mrs. Butterfield, I owe my life.
Morning and evening the doctor's patter-patter was heard
on the stairs, — three flights to climb. The whole case was
gone over, and then, if the good old doctor had a moment to
"SO WOULD I!" 211
spare, he would retail some little anecdote " with which to
leave me in good spirits."
The following is one : —
"Mr. Bacon, of EcJge field, was once courting a lady who
had frequently refused him ; but he, with commendable per-
severance, had as often renewed the suit, until at last she
became so exceedingly annoyed at his importunities that she
told him that she could never marry a man whose tastes,
opinions, likes and dislikes were so completely in opposition
to her own as were his.
** ' In fact, Mr. Bacon,' she is represented as having said,
' I do not think there is one subject on earth upon which we
could agree.'
"^I assure you, dear madam, that you are mistaken, which
I can prove.'
" *If you will mention one, I will agree to marry you,' re-
plied the lady.
" * Well, I will do it," replied Mr. Bacon. * SupjDose now
you and I were travelling together ; we arrive at a hotel
which is crowded ; there are only two rooms not entirely
occupied, in one of which there is a man, in the other a
woman : with which would you prefer to sleep ? '
"The lady arose indignantly, and replied, 'With the
woman, of course, sir.'
" 'So would I,' replied Mr. Bacon, triumphantly."
(My room had two beds in it, which suggested the above
story.)
Dr. K.'s Mare.
The outline of the following ludicrous " situation " was
given me by a gentleman of Framingham : —
Old Dr. K., of F., was represented as a rough and off-
handed specimen of the genus homo^ who liked a horse even
better than a woman, — not that he was by any means un-
mindful of the charms and claims of the beautiful, — better
212 "TROT HER OUT."
than he loved money, though the latter passion bordered on
avariciousness.
An over-nice and sensitive spinster once was visiting the
family of Mr. T., in town, which employed a younger and
more refined physician than Dr. K. ; and the spinster, being
somewhat indisposed, requested Mr. T. to call a physician.
His own family doctor was suggested ; but on close inquiry,
she concluded to have " the oldest and most experienced
physician that the town afforded," and old Dr. K. was
called.
Mr. T. had just purchased a beautiful mare, which the
doctor was desirous of possessing ; and the animal was the
subject of conversation as the two entered the house, even
to the parlor, where the spinster reclined upon a sofa. The
old doctor examined the lady for a moment in silence, but
his mind was all absorbed in the reputed qualities of the
mare, as he timed the lady's pulse.
"Slightly nervous," he said to the spinster. "Tongue?
Ah! coated. Throat sore?" and turning towards T., he
resumed the horse discussion, still holding the lady's wrist.
"Good wind, Mr. T. ? No spavins? Nothing the matter?
Suppose you trot her out this afternoon."
The spinster, supposing the conversation alluded to her,
went into the most extreme kind of hysterics.
"A Scared Customer."
We give this incident for what it is worth.
A man recently entered a restaurant in Utica, N. Y., and
ordered a very elaborate dinner. He lingered long at the
table, and finally wound up with a bottle of wine. Then
lighting a cigar, he sauntered up to the bar, and remarked
to the proprietor, —
"Very fine dinner, landlord. Just charge it, for I haven't
a cent."
"But I don't know you," replied the proprietor, indig-
nantly.
A SCARED CUSTOMER.
213
"No, of course you don't, or you never would have let me
have the dinner."
"Pay me for the dinner, I say," shouted the landlord.
"And I say I can't," vociferated the customer.
" Then I'll see about it," exclaimed the proprietor, who
snatched something from a drawer, leaped over the counter,
and grasping the man by the collar, pointed something at his
throat. " I'll see if you get away with that dinner without
paying for it, you scoundrel."
" What is that you hold in your hand ? " demanded the
now aflrighted customer, trying to get a sight at the article.
"That, sir, is a revolver; loaded, sir."
I I l"M^ ""!' i'l!ll|i|
ll'M|;iJI!l'ltll'l Wlllll'liil ' l'Mlll!ITIi||l|M|||i||||
NOT A STOMACH-PUMP.
"O, d that; I don't care a continental for a revolver;
IVe got one myself. / was afraid it was a stomach^
214 "THE RULING PASSION," ETC.
"What's Truinips?"
Mrs. Bray, in her book of Anecdotes ^ relates a story illus-
trative of the power of the ruling passion.
" A Devonshire physician, boasting the not untradesman-
like name of Vial, was a desperate lover of the game of whist.
One evening, during his opponent's deal, he fell to the floor
in a fit. Consternation seized on the company, who knew
not if the doctor was dead or alive. Finally he showed signs
of returning life, and retaining the last cherished idea that
had possessed him on falling into the fit, he resumed his
chair, exclaiming, ^What's trumps, bo7/s9^"
The writer was present at a similar occurrence. There
were a half score of boys seated upon some logs near the
country school-house, during recess, listening to a story,
something about "an old woman who had just reached a
well, with a pitcher to obtain some water, when the old lady
tripped her toe, anjJ fell into the well head foremost."
At this juncture one of the listeners fell forward from the
log in a fit. We were greatly frightened, but mustered
suflicient courage to throw some water in the boy's face,
when he gradually came to his senses, exclaiming, —
*^Did she break thejntchei^ Johnny?^*
To Mrs. Bray's book w^e are again indebted for the fol-
lowing : — ■
" A bon-vivant, brought to his death-bed by an immod-
erate use of wine, was one day informed by his physician
that he could not, in all human probability, survive many
hours, and that he would die before eight o'clock the follow-
ing morning, summoned all his remaining strength to call the
doctor back, and, when the physician had returned, made
an ineffectual attempt to rise in bed, saying, with the true
recklessness of an innate gambler, —
"'Doctor, I'll bet you some bottles that I live till nineP^^
A DAMP ANECDOTE. 215
"Let go the Halliards."
A sailor was taken with the pleurisy on board a vessel
that was hauling through the "seven bridges" that span
the Charles River from the Navy Yard to Cambridgeport,
and a well-known physician, rather of the Falstaffian make-
up, whom I may as well call Dr. Jones, — because that is not
his name, —was summoned. He prescribed for the patient,
and when the schooner touched the pier of the bridge, he
stepped ashore, as was supposed by the captain and crew,
whose whole attention was required to keep the vessel from
driving against the drawer ; but " there's many a slip 'twixt
cup and lip," and the old doctor had taken the " slip," and
went plump overboard, unseen by any.
In his descent he grasped at a rope, which happened to be
the jib halliards, and as he came up, puffing and blowing the
salt water from his mouth and nose, he began to haul " hand-
over-hand " at the halliards. His corpulency overbalanced
the jib, and gradually the sail began to ascend, to the aston-
ishment of the cook, who stood near by, and to the wrath of
the captain on the quarter-deck.
" Let go the jib halliards, there, you confounded slush,**
roared the captain.
"I ain't h'isting the jib," replied the terrified cook, believ-
ing that the sail was bewitched, for sailors are quite super-
stitious, you know.
" Let go the halliards," shouted the mate. " We shall be
across the draw, and all go to Davy Jones' locker. Hear,
d you, Slush-bucket?"
Still the old doctor pulled for dear life, and still rose the
ghost-like sail, while the affrighted cook and all hands ran
aft, looking as pale as death. Still the sail went up, up, and
the captain and mate began to be astonished, when by this
time — less time than it requires to tell it — the old doctor had
reached the rail of the vessel, and shouted lustily for help.
216 "A DALE OF MUSTARD."
All ran forward to help the corpulent old doctor on deck,
and by means of a man at each arm, and a boat-hook fast
nito the doctor's unmentionables, he was hauled safely on
board, a wetter and a wiser man.
If you want to get kicked out of his office, just say in his
hearing, ^'Let go them 'ere halliai'ds" and it is done.
" O, mermaids, is it cold and wet
Adown beneath the sea?
It seems to me that rather chill
Must Davy's locker be."
Medical Titbits.
More Mustard than Meat. — A poor, emaciated Irishman
having called in a physician as a forlorn hope, the latter
spread a large mustard plaster and applied it to the poor
fellow's lean chest.
"Ah, docthor," said Pat, looking down upon the huge
plaster with tearful eyes, " it sames to me it's a dale of mus-
tard for so little mate."
^^Don't want to be an Angel.'' — "I want to be an angel,"
which has been so long shouted by millions of darling little
Sunday school children, who hadn't the remotest idea for
what they had been wishing (?), and whose parents would
not vojuntarily consent to the premature transformation, if
the children did, has received a check in the following : —
A little sprite, Avho had been so very sick that her life was
despaired of, was told one morning by the doctor that she
would now get well.
"O, I'm so glad, doctor I " she replied ; " for I don't want
to die and go to heaben, and be an angel, and wear fedders,
like a hen."
Tooth Drawing.
A snobbish-appearing individual accosted a countryman in
homespun with the following interrogation : —
DENTISTRY.
217
''I say, all, my fraand, are you sufficiently conversant with
the topography of this neighborhood to direct me to the
nearest disciple of ^sculapius, eh?"
" What ? " exclaimed the astonished rustic.
"Can you familiarize me with the most direct course to a
physician ? "
"Hey?"
" Can you tell me where a doctor lives ? "
"O, a doctor's house. Why didn't you say so before?"
The next is after the same sort.
A sailor chap entered a dentist's office to have a tooth ex-
tracted.
Doctor (with great professional dignity, speaking very
LOWER TIER, LARBOARD SIDE."
slowly), "Well, mariner, what tooth do you require ex-
tracted? Is it an incisor, bicuspid, or a molar?"
Jack {brusque and loud), "It's here in the lower tier,
218 CHEAPER THAN DIRT.
larboard side. Bear a hand, lively, you dumb'd swab, for
it's nippin' my jaw like a lobster."
The most astonished hoy I ever beheld was a little coun-
try lad who came to have a tooth drawn. " He thought it
must be fun," his mother said; "but he never had one
drawn, and knows nothing of it."
" O ! " with a great, round mouth, was all he had time to
say, but the expression of astonishment depicted on that
striking countenance, glaring eyes, and by the expressive,
spasmodic " O ! " I never can forget or describe ; and he
caught his hat and ran home, a distance of two miles, with-
out stopping, while his mother followed in the carriage by
which they came. The boy's idea was summed up as fol-
lows : —
"The doctor hitched tight onto the tooth with his pinchers,
then he pulled his first best, and just before it killed me, the
tooth came out, and so I run home."
^^Talcing it out in trade''' is all very well when the arrange-
ment is mutual ; but there are occasions when the advan-
tages are imperceptible, at least to one party, as thus : —
"What's the matter, Jerry?" asked old Mr. , as
Jeremiah was jogging by, growling most furiously.
"Matter 'nough," replied old Jerry. "There I've been
luggin' water all the morning for the doctor's wife to wash
with, and what do you s'pose she give me for it?"
"About ninepence."
" Ninepence ? No ! She told me the doctor would pull
a tooth for me some time, when he got leisure."
Apothecaries sometimes " come down " from the dignity
of the professional man, and crack a joke. For instance, —
A humorous druggist on Washington Street recently ex-
posed some cakes of soap in his window with the perti-
nent inscription, " Cheaper than dirt."
A SURE CURE. 219
In the country, you know, they keep almost everything in
the apothecaries' shops. We mentioned the fact in our
chapter on Apothecaries. A wag once entered one of .these
apotheco-groco-dry-goods-meat-and-fish-market-stores, and
asked the keeper, —
"Do you keep matches, sir?"
"O, yes, all kinds," was the reply.
"Well, I'll take a trotting match," said the. wag.
The equally humorous druggist handed down a box of
pills, saying,—
"Here, take 'em and trot."
A sure Cure. — Henry Ward Beecher is currently re-
ported as having once written to Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes
as to the knowledge of the latter respecting a certain diffi-
culty. The reply was characteristic, and encouraging,
" Gravel," wrote the doctor, "gravel is an effectual cure.
It should be taken about four feet deep."
The "remedy" was not, however, so remarkable as the
following : —
" Time and Cure,^^ — A good-looking and gentlemanly-
dressed fellow was arraigned on the charge of stealing a
watch, which watch was found on his person. It was his
first offence, and he pleaded, " Guilty." The magistrate was*
struck with the calm deportment of the prisoner, and asked
him what had induced him to take the watch.
"Having been out of health for some time," replied the
young man, sorrowfully, "the doctor advised me to take
something, which I accordingly did."
The magistrate was rather amused with the humor of the
explanation, and further inquired why he had been led to
select so remarkable a remedy as a watch.
" Why," replied the prisoner, "I thought if I only had the
time, Nature might work the cure,^'
14
220 "RUNNING FROM THE CHOLERA."
Dye-stuff. — During the cholera time of 1864, in Hartford,
Conn., a little girl was sent to a drug store to purchase some
dye-stuff, and forgetting the name of the article, she said tO
the clerk, "John, what do folks dye with? "
"Die with? Why, the cholera, mostly, nowadays."
" Well, I guess that's the name of what I want. Til take
three cents' worth."
The Hartford Courant told this story in 1869 : —
" Cholera fenced in, — You have noticed the flaming hand-
bills setting forth the virtues of a chojera remedy, that are
posted by the hundreds on the board fence enclosing the
ground on Main Street, where Koberts' opera house is being
erected. Well, there was a timid countryman, the other
day, who had so far recovered from the 'cholera scare' as to
venture into the city with a horse and wagon load of vege-
tables ; and thereby hangs a tale. He drove moderately
along the street, when he suddenly spied the word ' Chol-
era,' in big letters on the new fence, and he staid to see no
•more. Laying the lash on to his quadruped, he went past
the handbills like a streak of lightning, went — * nor stood
on the order of his going' — up past the tunnel, planting the
vegetables along the entire route, — for the tail-board had
loosened, — hardly taking breath, or allowing his beast to
breathe, till he reached home at W.
"Safely there, he rushed wildly into the midst of his
household, exclaiming, —
" ' O, wife, wife, they have got the cholera in Hartford, and
have fenced it in J "
A Joke that's not a JoTce. — A funny limb of the law had
an office, a few years since, on Street, next door to a
doctor's shop. One day, an elderly gentleman, of the fogy
school, blundered into the lawyer's office, and asked, —
"Is the doctor in?"
A LAWYER DOCTORED. 223
'* Don't live here," replied the lawyer, scribbling over some
legal documents.
" O, I thought this was the doctor's office."
"Next door, sir; " short, and still writing.
"I beg pardon, but can you tell me if the doctor has many
patients ? "
^' I^ot living, ^^ was the brief reply.
The old gentleman repeated the story in the vicinity, and
the doctor threatened the lawyer with a libel. The latter
apologized, saying, "it was only a joke, and that no man
could sustain a libel against a lawyer," when the doctor ac-
knowledged the joke, and satisfaction, saying he would send
up a bottle of wine, in token of reconciliation.
The wine came, and the lawyer invited in a few friends to
laugh over the joke, and smile over the doctor's wine. The
seal was broken, the dust and cobwebs being removed, and
the doctor's health drunk right cordially. The excellence
of the doctor's wine was but half discussed, when the law-
yer begged to be excused a moment, caught his hat, and
rushed from the room. Soon one of the guests repeated the
request, and followed ; then another, and another, till they
had all gone out.
The wine had been nicely " doctored " with tartar emetic,
the seal replaced and well dusted over, before being sent to
the lawyer. The doctor was now threatened with prosecu-
tion ; but after some consideration, th^ following brief cor-
respondence passed between the belligerents : • —
" Nolle prosequi." Lawyer to doctor.
" Quits." Doctor to lawyer.
Parboiling an Old Lady, —-In Rockland, Me., then called
East Thomaston, several years ago, there resided an old
Thomsonian doctor, who had erected in one room of his
dwelling a new steam bath. An old lady from the "Mead-
ows," concluding to try the virtues of the medicated steam,
224
A STEAM BATH.
went down, was duly arrayed in a loose robe by the doctor's
wife, and with much trepidation and many warnings not to
keep her too long, she entered the bath — a sort of closet,
with a door buttoned outside. The steam was kept up by a
large boiler, fixed in the fireplace which the doctor was to
regulate. The old lady took a book into the bath, "to
occupy her mind, and keep her from getting too nervous."
" Now it's going all right," said the doctor, when ding,
ding, ding ! went the front door bell. The doctor stepped
noiselessly out, and learned that a woman required his im-
mediate attention at South Thomaston, three miles away.
He forgot all about the 6ld lady fastened into the bath, and
leaping into the carriage in waiting, he was whisked off to
South Thomaston.
Meantime the steam increased, and the old lady began to
gelt anxious. The moisture gathered on her book ; the leaves
began to wilt. The dampness increased, and soon the book
fell to pieces in her lap. Great drops of sweat and steam
rolled down over her face and body, and she arose, and tap-
ping very gently at the door, said, —
i^
ti i
x^^ ^^j^^;
H
III
V
pl
1
^p
^JlJ
l^l^^l
IP
^z^
^^=SH 1=^
^^^^g
^^£-^
^^^
-'^: .--^^.i-r^—^,.^
— -''
^^-—^ 1^^ ^'''
i
TOO MUCH VAPOR.
" Hadn't I better come out now, doctor? "
No reply. She waited a moment longer, and repeated the
knock louder.
A DRY SHOWER BATH.
225
" Let me come out, doctor. I am just melting iu here."
Still the doctor, to her astonishment, did not reply, or
open the door.
" For God's sake, doctor, let me out." Listening a few
seconds, she screamed, " O, I believe he's gone, and left me
here to parboil ! Open, open I " And she knocked louder
and louder at the door, while the now almost scalding waters
literally poured from her body. "0,1 shall suffocate here."
And giving a desperate kick, she set her foot through the
panelled door, and, getting down on all fours, she crawled
through the opening. Just then the doctor's wife, hearing
the thumping, hastened to the room, and with many apolo-
gies and excuses, rubbed down and dried the old lady, afid
begged her not to mention the affair.
But never, to the day of her
death, did the old lady again
enter a " steam bath," or cease
to tell how " the doctor went off
to attend a * birth ^^ leaving her
in the bath to parboil! "
A Dry Shower Bath, —
When shower baths were all
the rage, a few years ago, all
sorts of plans were suggested
to avoid getting wet. The fol-
lowing is to the point : —
Doctor, Well, deacon, how
did your wife manage her new
shower bath ?
Deacon, O, she had real
good luck. Madam Mooney
told how she managed with
hern. She had made a large
oiled silk hood, with a large
A DRY SHOWER BATH.
226
"USED AN UMBRILLY.'
cape to it, like a fisherman's in a storm, t\^at came all down
over her shoulders.
Doctor (impatiently). She's a fool for her pains. That's
not the way.
Deacon. So my wife thought.
Doctor. And your wife did nothing of the kind, I hope.
Deacon. O, no, no. My wife, she used an umbrilly.
IX.
FORTUNE-TELLERS.
1st Wtich, By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
Macbeth. How now, you secret, black and midnight hag8,
What is't ye do ?
All. A deed without a name. — Macbeth, Act IV. Sc. 1.
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 HAUL OF FORTUNE-TELLERS. — PRESENT. — VISIT EN MASSE. —
" FILLIKY MILLIKY." — "CHARGE BAYONETS ! " — A FOWL PROCEEDING. —
— FINDING LOST PROPERTY. — THE MAGIC MIRROR EXPOSE. — " ONE MORE
UNFORTUNATE." — PROCURESSES. — BOSTON MUSEUM. — "A NICE OLD GEN-
TLEMAN." — MONEY DOES IT. — GREAT SUMS OF MONEY. — ** LOVE POWDER "
EXPOSE. — HASHEESH. — " DOES HE LOVE MB? " '
Under the guise of fortune-telling and clairvoyance the
most nefarious atrocities are daily enacted, not only in the
larger cities, but in the villages and towns even, throughout
the country. In this chapter I propose to ventilate them in
a manner never before attempted, and the expose may be
relied upon as correct in every particular.
" Why," exclaimed a friend, "I thought fortune-telling one
of the follies of the past, and that there was little or none
of it practised at the present."
Far from it. Very few, comparatively, who practise the
black art come out under the ancient name of fortune-tellers ;
but there are thousand^ of ignorant, characterless wretches,
in our enlightened day and generation, who pretend to tell
fortunes, if not under the open title above, as astrologers,
(227)
22S PAST AND PRESENT.
seers, clairvoyants, or spiritualists, etc. There are some
clairvoyants of whom we shall treat under the head of
"Mind and Matter."
The Bible fortune-tellers practised their lesser deceptions
under the various titles of "wise men," " soothsayers," the
former being acknowledged as the more legitimate by the
Jews, and the latter mere heathenish prognosticators, without
divine authority, as thus: Is. ii. 6. "Therefore thou hast
forsaken thy people, the house of Jacob, because they be
replenished from the east, and are soothsayers, like the
Philistines,^^
8. "Their land also is full of idols ; they worship the work
of their own hands, that which their own fingers have made."
There were also wizards, astrologers, " star-gazers " (Is.
xlvii. 13), spiritualists (1 Sam. xxviii. 3), magicians, sor-
cerers, and " the well-favored harlot, the mistress of witch-
crafts, that selleth nations through her whoredoms, and fam-
ilies through her witchcrafts" Nahum iii. 4.
All of these exist at the present day, carrying on the same
sort of vile deceptions and heinous crimes, to the "selling
of families and nations," and souls, in spite of hiw or gospel.
Even as those of nearly six thousand years ago were pat-
ronized by the great, the kings, and queens, and nobles of
the earth, so are the fortune-tellers, under the more refined
titles, visited by governors, representatives, and ladies and
gentlemen of rank, of modern times.
In visiting these pretenders, in order " to worm out the
secrets of their trade," the writer has not only been assured
by them in confidence that the above is true, but he has met
distinguished characters there, face to face, — the minister of
the gospel, the lawyer, the judge, the doctor, and what ought
to have been the representative intelligence of the land, —
consulting and fellowshiping with ignorant fortune-tellers.
"Ignorant?" Yes, out of the scores whom I have seen,
there has not been one, male or female, possessing an Intel-
ANCIENT MAGICIANS. 229
ligeuce above ordinary people in the unprofessional walks of
life, while the majority of them were in comparison far be-
low the mediocrity.
If ignorance alone patronized ignorance, like a family in-
termarrying, the stock would eventually dwindle into noth-
ingness, and entirely die out.
Before the "captivity" the Jews had their wise men, and
on their exodus they reported the existence of the magicians
or magi of Egypt.
It seems that nearly everybody, and particularly the
Egyptians, regarded Moses and Aaron as but magicians in
those days ; and the magi of Pharaoh's household — for all
kings and rulers of ancient times and countries had their
fortune-tellers about them — had a little " tilt " with Moses
and Aaron, commencing with the changing of the rods into
snakes. The Egyptian magicians did very well at the snake
"trick," as the modern magician calls it, also at producing
frogs, and such like reptiles ; but they were puzzled in the
vermin business, and the boils troubled them, and they then
gave up, and acknowledged that there was a power beyond
theirs, and that power was with God.
Well, that is not fortune-telling ; but this was the class
who professed the power of foretelling ; and we find them,
with women of the familiar spirits, made mention of all
through the scriptural writing. Isaiah testifies (chapter xix.)
that the charmers, familiar spirits, and wizards ruined
Egypt as a nation. What advantage were they ever to King
Saul, the grass-eating king with the long name, or any other
individuals, in their perplexities?
They rather stood in the light of individuals, nations, and
the cause of Heaven. Then Jesus and the apostles had them
to meet and overcome — for their power had become very
great, even to the publication of books to promulgate their
doctrines ; for we read in Acts xix. 19, that there were
brought forth at Ephesus, at one time, these books, to the
230 ORIENTAL FORTUNE-TELLERS.
amount of fifty thousand pieces of silver, or about twenty-
six thousand five hundred dollars' worth, and burned in the
public square or synagogue.
There are some instances recorded in the Bible, and by
Josephus, where the Jews professed to foretell events. The
curious case of Barjesus, at Paphos, who, for a time, hin-
dered Sergius, the deputy of the country, from embracing
Christianity, is cited in illustration of the injury that false
prophets are to all advancement. Paul testifies to that fact
in the following words : " O, full of all subtlety, and all
mischief, child of the devil, enemy to all righteousness," etc.
Arabian Fortune-teller.
The Arabians, from time immemorial, have been implicit
believers in fortune-telling, as well as believers in the efll-
cacy of charms and all other mystic arts. "No species of
knowledge is more highly venerated by them than that of
the occult sciences, which afibrds maintenance to a vast num-
ber of quacks and impudent pretenders." The science of
" Isen Allah " enables the possessor to discern what is pass-
ing in his absence, to expel evil spirits, and cure malignant
diseases. Others claim to control the winds and the weather,
calm tempests, and to say their prayers in person at Mecca,
without stirring from their own abodes hundreds of miles
away I
The " Sinia " is what is better known to us as jugglery
and feats of illusion.
The "Ramie" is the more proper fortune-telling, and is
believed ift and practised by people of all ranks, male and
female, and by the physicians."
The Eastern Prince.
Fortune-telling is practised in all Eastern countries, to a
great extent, to the present day. Some pretend to foretell
AN INFALLIBLE DECREE. 231
events by the stars and planets, some by charms, cards, the
palm of the hand, or a lock of hair; the latter is the most
vulgar mode, and commonly followed by the gypsies.
When the fortress of Ismail was besieged, in 1790, by
the Russians, Prince Potemkin, the commanding officer, be-
gan to grow impatient, after nearly two months' resistance,
though he was surrounded by all the comforts and luxuries
of an Eastern prince — by courtiers and beautiful women,
who employed the most exciting and voluptuous means to
engage his attention. Madame De Witt, one of the females,
pretended to read the decrees of fate by cards, and foretold
that the prince would only take the place at the expiration
of three more weeks.
"Ah," exclaimed the prince, with a smile, "I have a
method of divination far more infallible, as you shall see ; "
and he immediately despatched orders to Suwarof to take
Ismail within three days. The brave but barbarous hero
obeyed the order to the very letter.
The Seer's Wife.
When Richmond, afterwards Henry VII., landed at Mil-
ford-Haven, on his memorable march to his successful
encounter with Richard III., then at Bosworth Field, he con-
sulted a celebrated Welsh seer, who dwelt in magnificent
style at a place called Matha Farm. To the duke's question
as to whether he should succeed or not, the wily seer, whose
name was Davyd Lloyd, requested a little time in which to
consider so important a query.
As Richmond lodged that night with his friend Davyd, he
gave him till the following morning to make up his decision,
when the seer assured Richmond that he " would succeed
gloriously."
For this wonderful and timely information Lloyd received
immense rewards at the hand of his grateful prince when he
became King Henry VH.
232 THE QUEEN'S ASTROLOGER.
Now for the secret of his success". During the time
granted for the answer, Davyd, in great perplexity and
trepidation, consulted his wife, instead of the heavens, for
an answer. See the wisdom of the reply.
"There can be no diflSculty about an answer. Tell him he
will certainly succeed. Then, if he does, you will receive
honors and rewards ; and if he fails, depend on't he will
never come here to punish you."
Dee, the Astrologer.
One of the most remarkable and successful fortune-tellers
known to English history was John Dee, who was born in
London, 1527, and died in 1608. A biographer says, "He
was an English divine and astrologer of great learning, cele-
brated in the history and science of necromancy, chancellor
of St. Paul's, and warden of Manchester College, in the
reign of Queen Elizabeth. He was also author of several
published works on the subject of astrology, revelations of
spirits, etc., which books are preserved in the Cottonian
library and elsewhere."
Dee enjoyed for a long time the confidence and patronage
of Elizabeth. He then resided in an elegant house at Mort-
lake, which was still standing in 1830, and was used for a
female boarding school. " In two hundred years it necessa-
rily had undergone some repairs and alterations ; yet portions
of it still exhibited the architecture of the sixteenth century.
" From the front windows might be seen the doctor's gar-
den, still attached to the house, down the central path of
which the queen used to walk from her carriage from the
Shan road to consult the wily conjurer on affairs of love
and war.
" He was one of the few men of science who made use of
his knowledge to induce the vulgar to believe him a con-
jurer, and one possessing the power to converse with spirits.
Lilly's memoirs recorded many of his impostures, and at one
f
THE IMPOSTOR LILLY. 233
time the public mind was much agitated by his extravagances.
The mob more than once destroyed his house (before resid-
ing at Mortlake) for being too familiar with their devil. He
pretended to see spirits in a stone, which is still preserved
with his books and papers. ... In his spiritual visions
Dee had a confederate in one Kelley, who, of course, con-
firmed all his master's oracles. Both, however, in spite of
their spiritual friends, died miserably — Kelley by leaping
from a window and breaking his neck, and Dee in great pov-
erty and wretchedness. The remains of the impostor lie in
Mortlake Church, without any memorial."
He unfortunately had survived his royal patroness.
Queen Mary had had Dee imprisoned for practising by en-
chantment against her life ; but her successor released him,
and required him to name a lucky day for her coronation.
" In view of this fact," asks the author of * A Morning's
Walk from London to Kew,' is it to be wondered at that a
mere man, like tens of thousands of other fanatics, persuaded
himself that he was possessed of supernatural powers ? "
Another Impostor. — The Great Fire.
William Lilly followed in the wake of, and was even a
more successful impostor than the Reverend Dee. He was
first known in London as a book-keeper, whose master, dy-
ing, gave him the opportunity of marrying his widow and
her snug little fortune of one thousand pounds. The wife
died in a few years, and Lilly set up as an astrologer and
fortune-teller.
His first great attempt at a public demonstration of his
art was about 1630, which was to discover certain treasures
which he claimed were buried in the cloister of Westminster
Abbey. Lilly had studied astronomy with a Welsh clergy-
man, and doubtless may have been sufliciently "weather-
wise " to anticipate a storm ; but however that might have
been, on the night of the attempt, there came up a most terrific
234 A FORTUNATE GUESS.
storm of wind, rain, thunder and lightning, which threatened
to bury the actors beneath the ruins of the abbey, and his
companions fled, leaving Lilly master of the situation. He
unblushingly declared that he himself allayed the " storm
spirit," and " attributed the failure to the lack of faith and
want of better knowledge in his companions."
"In 1634 Lilly ventured a second marriage, with another
woman of projDerty, which was unfortunate as a commercial
speculation, for the bride proved extravagant beyond her
dowry and Lilly's income. In 1644 he published his first
almanac, which he continued thirty-six years. In 1648 he
therein predicted the "great fire" of London, which immor-
talized his name. While Lilly was known as a cheat, and
was ridiculed for his absurdities, he received the credit for
as lucky a guess as ever blessed the fortunes of a cunning
rogue.
"In the year 1656," said his prediction, "the aphelium of
Mars, the signification of England, will be in Virgo, which is
assuredly the ascendant of the English monarchy, but Aries
of the kingdom. When this absis, therefore, of Mars shall
appear in Virgo, who shall expect less than a strange catas-
tro^phe of human afiairs in the commonwealth, monarchy, and
kingdom of England ? "
He then further stated that it would be " ominous to Lon-
don, unto her merchants at sea, to her traffique at land, to her
poor, to her rich, to all sorts of people inhabiting her or her
liberties, by reason of fire and plague!'* These he predicted
would occur within ten years of that time.
The great plague did occur in London in 1665, and the
great fire in 1666 ! The fire originated by incendiarism in
a bakery on Pudding Lane, near the Tower, in a section of
the city where the buildings were all constructed of wood
with pitched roofs, and also a section near the storehouses
for shipping materials, and those of a highl}^ combustible
nature. It occurred also at a time when the water-pipes were
empty.
A TRADING PROPHET. 235
This fearful visitation destroyed nearly two thirds of the
metropolis. Four hundred and thirty-three acres were
burned over. Thirteen thousand houses, eighty-nine
churches, and scores of public buildings were laid in ashes
and ruins. There was no estimating the amount of prop-
erty destroyed, nor the many souls who perished in the
relentless, devouring flames.
If this great fire originated at the instigation of Lilly, in
order to demonstrate his claims as a foreteller of events, as
is believed to be the case by nearly all who were not them-
selves believers in the occult science, what punishment could
be meted out to such a villain commejasurate to his heinous
crime? Curran says, "There are two kinds of prophets,
those who are inspired, and those who prophesy events
which they themselves intend to bring about. Upon this
occasion, Lilly had the ill luck to be deemed of the latter
class." Elihu Rich says in his biography of Lilly, "It is
certain that he was a man of no character. He was a double-
dealer and a liar, by his own showing, . . . and perhaps as
decent a man as a trading prophet could well be, under the
circumstances." Lilly was cited before a committee of the
House of Commons, not, as was supposed by many, "that
he might discover by the same planetary signs who were the
authors of the great fire," but because of the suspicion that
he was already acquainted with them, and privy to the sup-
posed machinations which brought about the catastrophe.
At one time, 1648-9, Parliament gave him one hundred
pounds a year, and he was courted by royalty and nobility,
at home and abroad, from whom he received an immense
revenue. He died a natural death, in 1681, "leaving some
works of interest in the history of astrology," which, in con-
nection with the important personages with whom he was
associated, and the remarkable events above recorded, have
immortalized his name.
Eespecting the prediction of the plague, I presume that if
236 FORTUNE-TELLERS.
any prominent personage should, at any time, predict a great
calamity to a great metropolis, to take place ^^ loithin ten
years ^ more or less,'' there necessarily would be something
during that time, of a calamitous nature, that might seem to
verify their prediction. Besides, we should take into con-
sideration how many predictions are never verified. Dr.
Lamb, Dee, Bell, and others prophesied earthquakes to
shake up London at various times in 1203; 1598, 1760, etc.,
which never occurred, to any great extent.
Supposing a great tidal wave should devastate our coast,
within ten years even, would not Professor Agassiz be im-
mortalized thereby, although he never predicted it, except
in the imaginative and mulish brains of certain individuals,
who will have it that he did so predict ?
A Raid on Fortune-tellers.
Li London, at the present day, it is estimated that nearly
two thousand persons, male and female, gain a livelihood
under the guise of fortune-telling. Some of them are " seers,'*
or "astrologers," "seventh sons," clairvoyants, etc.
From the London Telegraph of the year 1871 we gather
the following description of a few of the most prominent of
these, with their arrest and trial, as fortune-telling is there,
as elsewhere, proscribed by law ; —
"First was arraigned * Professor Zendavesta,' otherwise
John Dean Bryant, aged fifty, and described as a * botanist.'
He was charged with having told a woman's fortune, for the
not very extravagant sum of thirteen cents. Two married
women, it seems, instructed by the police, went to No. 3
Homer Street, Marylebone, and paid sixpence each to a wo-
man, who gave them a bone ticket in return. One might
have imagined that it was a spiritualist's seance, but for the
fact that the fee for admittance was sixpence, and not one
guinea. Professor Zendavesta shook hands with one of the
women, and warmly inquired after her health. She told
HOW TO TELL FORTUNES. 237
him she was in trouble about her husband, which was false,
and he bade her be of good cheer, and made an appointment
to meet her on another day. Subsequently, two constables
went to Bryant's house, and on going into a room on the
ground floor, found thirty or forty young women seated
there. The ladies began to scream, and there was a rush
for the door; while the police, who seemed to labor under
the impression that to attend an astrological lecture was as
illegal an act as that of being present at a cock-fight or a
common gambling-house, stopped several of the women, and
made them give their names and addresses. The walls of
the apartment were covered with pictures of Life and Death,
with the ' nativities of several royal and illustrious person-
ages, and of Constance Kent.' It is a wonder that the hor-
oscopes of Heliogabalus and Jack the Painter should have
been lacking. Then there was a medicine chest containing
bottles and memoranda of nativities ; also a * magic mirror,
with a revolving cylinder,' showing the fignres of men and
women, old and young. Of course the collection included
a 'book of fate.' This was the case against Bryant.
"One Shepherd, alias 'Professor Cicero,' was next charged,
and it was shown that the same ' instructed ' women went to
his house, paying sixpence for the usual bone ticket. They
saw Shepherd separately. When one of them said that she
wanted her fortune told, 'Professor Cicero' took a yard tape
and measured her hand. He gabbled the usual nonsense
to her about love, marriage, and good luck, hinting that the
price of a complete nativity would be half a crown, and be-
fore they left the place he gave them a circular, with their
phrenological organs marked. Indeed, the man's defence
was, that he was a professor of phrenology, and not of the
bhick art. A ' magic mirror ' and a ' lawyer's gown ' were,
however, found at his house, and the last named item has
certainly a very black look. The evidence against the next
defendant, William Henry, alias 'Professor Thalaby,' and
15
238 riLLIKY MILLIKY.
against the fourth and last, Frederick Shipton, alias * Pro-
fessor Baretta/ did not differ to any great extent from the
testimony given against Zendavesta. The solicitor retained
for this sage contended that if he had infringed the law, it
was likewise violated at the Crystal Palace, where the ' magic
mirror' was to be seen every day. Mr. Mansfield, however,
had only to deal with the case and the culprits before him,
and, convicting all the four fortune-tellers, he sent them to
the house of correction, there to be kept, each and every one
of them, to hard labor for three months."
The Fortune-tellers of To-day.
Before entering upon the expose of the viler practices of
this vile art, — the " selling of families," and of virginity,
and the abominable practices of the procuresses, who carry
on their damnable treacheries, particularly in our large cities,
at the present day, — I wish to enliven this chapter by one
or more amusing instances relative to country fortune-tellers.
FilUTcy Millihy, — During the summer of 185-, the writer
was one of a large party of excursionists to Weymouth's
Point, in Union Bay. There was a large barge full of peo-
IDle, old and young, male and female, besides several sail-
boat loads, who, on the return in the afternoon, decided to
stop at the hut of a fortune-teller called "Filliky Milliky."
This old man, w^ith his equally ignorant wife, professed to
tell fortunes by means of a tea-cup. He claimed that he
knew of our intended visit, and had set his house in order ;
but if that house was " in order " that day, deliver us from
seeing it when out of order.
There were some one hundred or more of us, and whilst
but two could occupy the attention of the "Millikies" at
once, we sought other means of whiling away the time. The
old man lived near the river side, and at his leisure had
picked up a large pile of lath edgings which had floated
down from a lath mill on the river.
STORMING A HILL.
239
One Captain Joy took it upon himself to form "all the
gentlemen who would enlist in so noble a cause-" into a
"home guard," and forthwith arming themselves with the
aforesaid lath edgings, a company of volunteers was quickly
raised, and drawn up in battle array.
I do not recollect the glorious and patriotic speech by
which our noble captain fired our "sluggish souls with due
enthusiasm for the great pause in which we were about to
embark," but we were put through a course of military tac-
tics, " according to Hardee," and took up our line of march.
CHARGE, INFANTRY!
There was no Bunker Hill on w^hich to display our valor,
but there was another hill, just in rear of the barn nearly,
which had not been used in farming purposes that spring,
and for this hill we charged at "double-quick." In this
charge — the danger lay in the swamping part of the hill —
we un ambushed a large flock of hens, chickens, and ducks,
from the opposite side.
240
SPOILS OF WAR.
" Charge bayonet I ^^ shouted our noble captain, with great
in-esence.of mind.
We charged ! The ducks quacked and fled. The hens
cackled and ran. The noise was deafening, the chase enthu-
siastic, and above the dust and din of battle arose the sten-
torian cry, " Charge bayonet ! " The Donuybrook Fair ad-
vice of "Wherever there's a head, hit it," was followed to
the letter, until the last enemy lay dead on the gory field,
or had hid so far under the barn that the small boys could
not bring them forth. Then orders came to withdraw, and
gather up the dead and wounded.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
There was an interesting string of hens, chickens, and
ducks brought in and laid at the feet of our great com-
mander, to represent the fowl products of that campaign.
The captain's congratulatory s^Dcech was characteristic also
of the fowl ^proceedings, at the close of which harangue he
FINDING LOST PROPERTY. 241
appointed the " orderl v' fi committee of three to wait on the
fortune-teller, and present him with the spoils of war," of
which his "cups" had given him no previous intimation.
What next? The captain informed us that "as the com-
pany was ^ mutual,' it became necessary, in consideration of
the losses, to draw <fa the stock-holders (gun-stock), as he
could see no other ^ policy ' under which to assess those
* damages.'"
" Filliky Milliky " never carried fowl to a better market.
The " fortunate " ones entertained us, on the barge, with
the marvellous revelations that had transpired within the
hut. One married lady was assured that she was yet single,
but would marry in a six-month. A double-and-twisted old
maid was told that her husband was in California. But the
most absurd revelation was to a well-known respectable
middle-aged lady, who was inclined to believe in the fore-
seeing powers of old Mother Milliky until now, who was
told that she was " soon to receive a letter from her absent
husband, also in California for the last five years ; that he
had become rich, and was soon to return ; but that her
youngest child, a year old, was inclined to worms, and might
not live to see its father return ! " All this wonderful infor-
mation for a ninepence.
Secret of finding lost Property, — In Hopkinton, Mass.,
there lived a man named Sheffield, who professed to tell for-
tunes. The postmaster of that town told ray informant that
old Sheffield received from seven to ten letters per day from
the fools who believed in his foreseeing powers. Once the
surveyor, with a large gang of men, was working on the
highway, and while they were at dinner an ox chain was
stolen. The overseer, happening along before the rest of the
men, saw some one unhook the chain, and steal away to a
field adjoining, pull up a fence post, and deposit the chain
in the hole, replace the post, and return. He " lay low,"
242 MAGIC MIRRORS.
and as the thief passed he discovered him to be old Sheffield,
the fortuue-teller. He kept his own counsel, and, the chain
being missed, a committee of three was appointed to visit
the seer, to discover by his art where the stolen property
was secreted.
Mr. , the overseer, and otheps, called on Sheffield,
who got out his mysterious book, and figured away in an
impressive manner, and finally chalked out a rough plan of
the ground on the floor, and again consulting his book, he
solemnly declared that he had discovered the property.
" You follow this line from the spot where the chain was
unhooked from the plough, so many rods to this line fence,
go along the fence to the seventh post, draw it up, and the
chain will be found beneath, in the post-hole."
The two men were struck dumb with astonishment, for
they believed in the mysterious' powers of old Sheffield ; but
the overseer exclaimed, in words more impressive than ele-
gant, —
" Yes, you infernal scoundrel, and you put it there, for I
saw you with my own eyes."
The Magic Mirror Expose.
Not long ago the body of a once beautiful young woman
was taken from the Merrimack River, below the factories at
L . She was unknown at the time, and this was all
there was given to the public. To the world she was
merely —
" One more unfortunate,
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death."
Now, these are the whole facts of the case. She was the
daughter of respectable. Christian parents, in a New England
village, where she was highly esteemed as an amiable and
virtuous young lady. But the tempter came. Not in the
ALL FOR SPOKT. 243
form of a "serpent" — very harmless animals, comparative-
ly I — nor that other old fellow, commonly descried as hav-
ing clattering hoofs and forked tail, etc. — but in the flesh
and semblance of a handsome young man ! I think preach-
ers and book-makers paint their devils too hideous and too
far off! Leave off the d, and look for your evils nearer
home, and rather pleasant to look at, on the sly, and not (at
first) very unpleasant to the senses in general. These are
the dangerous (d)evils ; escape them^ and you avoid all !
In the village there were two young men, rivals for the
affections of this amiable young lady, and I know not but
there were a dozen besides. One held the only advantage
over the other of having been a native of the town, while the
other was, comparatively, but little known.
Both were sober, industrious, and moral young men.
One day Miss was going to the great city, and, for
the " sport of the thing," agreed to visit a celebrated fortune-
teller — a clairvoyant ! — at the instigation of the young man,
who, though least known to her, had recently distanced his
rival by his assiduity in pressing his suit before the young
lady.
He assured her there could be no impropriety in a young
lady's visiting a fortune-teller. It was only for fun ; nobody
believed in them, and she could keep her own secret if she
chose !
She went in broad daylight. The lady clairvoyant greeted
her cordially, begged her to feel quite at her ease, as there
was great fortune in store for her. She described her two
lovers very minutely, and informed the girl that the one who
was to marry her would con\e to her in a vision, if she would
but look into a mirror hanging on the wall before her.
" I see nothing but my own face," replied the young lady,
when she had arisen and looked into the glass.
The woman then turned it half around on the hinges,
swung out the frame upon which the mirror was also hung,
244
FATE!
and, disclosing a plain black glass behind, fastened to the
wall, said, —
"Now, if you will step behind the glass, back to the wall,
and again look into the mirror, you may possibly see one
of the two gentlemen — I cannot say which."
More amused than alarmed, the lady complied.
THE FORTUNE-TELLER'S MAGIC MIRROR.
" Still I see nothing but myself and a dark glass behind
me," she said^
" Look steadfastly into the glass. NowP^ exclaimed the
woman.
" O, what — what do I see ? " cried the girl. " Tis he ! 'tis
Mr. "
"Don't be alarmed ; 'tis your future husband. No power
can prevent it. It is fate — fate ! But it will be a happy
consummation," said the woman, closing the mirror.
A FEARFUL SEQUEL. 245
" Why, I left him at home, surely ; and I came by steam.
That is a solid wall I Ah, my fate is decreed, I believe ! "
Can the reader suppose any sensible person would believe
this to be magic? There are thousands who believe it.
Miss was one. She had seen the spiritual representa-
tion of her future husband, and, finding him at home on her
return, the same afternoon, she accepted him as her be-
trothed, and the other was dismissed.
Her ruin followed. In the flight of her lover, her hopes
were forever blasted. To hide her shame, she went secretly
from home ; and to earn her daily bread, she labored in a
cotton factory. When she could no longer cover her shame
in the world, she went without — into outer darkness ! Her
parents went down in sorrow to their untimely graves.
Now about the magic mirror. The young man went to the
city by the same train with the girl he proposed to ruin.
He had previously arranged with the fortune-teller — no un-
usual thing — to appear in person behind the darkened glass
in the next room, and had returned in disguise by the same
train with his victim.
The fortune-teller died miserably, and was buried in the
Potter's Field at the expense of the city of Hartford, Conn.
" The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree
I planted; they have torn me, — and I bleed :
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed."
Byron.
Such is one of the results of patronizing fortune-tellers.
I have seen this kind of mirror, and the first effect, even on
a strong-minded person, seeing but faintly through the dark-
ened glass, over your shoulder, the outlines of a lace, and
finally, as your eyes get familiar with the darkness, the very
features of a person reflected therein, is truly impressive, if
not startling.
Young ladies, for your own sakes, for the sake of your
friends, and more for Heaven's sake, keep away from for-
246 A PROFITABLE BUSINESS.
tune-tellers! You cannot possible/ see into futurity, neither
can any one, much less the ignorant wretches who profess
the dark mysteries, tell for you what joys or sorrows are iu
store for the future !
Fortune-tellers as Procuresses.
An able reporter to the Boston Daily Post, who devoted
a considerable time in May, 1869, to visiting and writing up
the fortune-tellers of Boston, which he reported in full in the
above paper, and from which I shall copy more fully here-
after, says in conclusion, —
"From what we are able to learu in this direction, we have
arrived at the conclusion that there are not less than tivo hun-
dred men and ivomen in Boston and vicinity who get a good
livelihood by this profession, while many do a large and prof-
itable business.
" One lady, who has reduced her charges to the very low-
est figure (fifty cents for an interview), candidl}^ informed
us that her receipts for the past year had not been less than
twelve hundred dollars. Another reported her receipts
from ten to fifty dollars a day.
" Of course no reliable estimate, without better statistics,
can be made of the magnitude of the business ; but it seems
not extravagant to estimate their receipts, on an average, at
fifteen hundred dollars per annum ! or an annual cost to the
people of Boston (and vicinity?) for fortune-telling, of the
snug little sum of three hundred thousand dollars ! "
The price advertised for a sitting in 1870 was from twenty-
five cents to one dollar. The Post reporter says of " Mrs.
Nellie Richards" (alias Mrs. Nelson), "Not unfrequently
her receipts are fifty dollars per day." Again of one, " She
has received fifty dollars for one sitting." The writer has
visited the most celebrated fortune-tellers here, and been
told by them that they have received five, ten, and twenty
dollars for one sitting. What for? What was the value
CHANCE ACQUAINTANCE. 247
received ? Not from females do they receive these liberal
sums ; but from middle-aged or old gentlemen and " married
men," as one assured me. It is quite possible for a few
sharp fortune-tellers to make fifteen hundred dollars per
year at merely telling fools what they may expect from the
future. "Middle-aged, old, and married men" do not con-
sult them, as a general rule, for that purpose.
Here is a true history illustrative of ray meaning. I
gathered the facts from the lady.
On Saturday, the 9th of December, 1871, a young woman,
residing with her parents on Street, went to the after-
noon performance at the Boston Museum. A young man
made three unsuccessful attempts to " flirt " with her. The
third time she slightly shook her head. Some one, seated
immediately behind her, touched her on the shoulder, and
said, " Right, young lady ; you did right not to notice
him."
"I turned my head," said my informant, "and just made
the least bit of acknowledgment to a fine-looking, elderly
gentleman, w4io, perhaps, was rising fifty. He was an utter
stranger to me, and I did not observe him afterwards. On
the following week I received a note — a very pretty, deli-
cate letter — from the very gentleman. He explained that
he saw me at the performance of "Elfie," and was much
struck by my lady-like appearance, and the rest, begging the
privilege of calling on me privately. Now, how could he
have obtained my address ? "
"Did the other party, the young * flirt,* know it?" I
asked.
"No — not probable. I was not so astonished in receiving
a letter from a stranger, as I was on learning that the nice-
looking old gent at the theatre should have sent it, and that
he possessed my address."
" Why not surprised by receiving the letter from a
stranger ? " I asked.
248 THE V/S AND X.'S.
" Because I visited a fortune-teller, a day or two before,
who told me I should receive a letter from a middle-aged
man, and that it would be to my interest to cultivate his
friendship, as he Tvas a nice old covey, and was rich and
liberal." ' ' .
"The secret is out! Did the fortune-teller know your
address?"
" O, yes ; she was an old friend of my mother's, and ashed
me notliing for a sitting. And would she possibly betray
the daughter of her old friend ? "
I have since learned that the young woman was married
at the time, which fact the fortune-teller must have known
when she advised her to " cultivate the friendship " of an old
roue, "as he was rich and liberal."
Rich and liberal I No doubt ! The light was astound-
ing which broke in upon the young lady's mind from my in-
timating that the old viper, the fortune-teller (clairvoyant
she calls herself), had betrayed her, and doubtless had re-
ceived ocular demonstration of the " nice old gentleman's "
liberality. Doubtless there was a five, ten, or twenty dol-
lar-sittino: I and the "friend of her mother" could well afford
to give her sittings free !
Reader, if you doubt that such villanies are daily prac-
tised in this city, such "betrayals of confidence," and "sell-
ing of families," put up "five or ten dollars for a sitting,"
almost anywhere, and you can have proof. None of your
fifty cents or dollar affairs — those are for the females ; but
" come down " with the V.'s and X.'s ; those bring the " great
information."
Let us " parable " a case.
"A nice, middle-aged gentleman" calls on Madam Blank.
"Here, now, my good woman, take this fee. Tell me a
good future. Let her have dark hair and eyes. If it is sat-
isfactory, I double the fee."
" Call again next week, or in three or four days," is all
the conversation necessary to pass for the first " sitting."
LOVE POWDERS. 249
Before the expiration of the time, just such a young lady
calls. The wily old fortune-teller — too old to sell herself
any longer — sells out this, perhaps, unsuspecting lady with
black hair and eyes, by mysteriously informing her of a cer-
tain nice gentleman whom she will meet at a designated
place, at a specified hour, on a particular day ! She is very
courteous to the girl, asks her nothing for a sitting, has
taken a liking to her, worms from her the secrets of her
birth, poverty, weaknesses, etc., and, with many smiles and
fair promises, bows her out.
She next proceeds to inform the " nice gentleman " that the
job is cooked, and the victim is unsuspecting, states where he
is to meet her, the signal by which he is to know her ; takes
the " double fee," and leaves the rest to the " nice middle-
aged (and shrewd) gentleman " to manage for himself.
How many young women in Boston can avouch for the
truth of this statement ? I doubt not there are very many.
Qui Bono ? While I know and confess that there are a
few ladies who j^i^ofess to tell fortunes, find lost property,
etc., and who do no greater deception, still, what positive ad-
vantage has ever been derived therefrom?
Love Powders and Drops. — French Secret, etc.
I have, by purchase and otherwise, obtained the secret of
the compounds of the celebrated '* Spanish," alias "Turkish,
Love Powders." I had previously considered them very
harmless preparations. They are quite the reverse. The
powder and drops are /Spanish Jlies and blood-root/ Some-
times the former are mixed (pulverized) with fine sugar;
but the Spanish flies (cantharides), either in powder or
liquid, is a very dangerous irritant, a very small dose some-
times producing painful and dangerous strangury. It is far
more certain to produce this distressing complaint than to
cause any sexual excitement. There may be some harmless
powders sold as " love powders," but I have never seen any.
250 THE FRENCH SECRET.
I have a quantity of the former. Any physician or chemist
may see it, who is interested. A few drops of it will pro-
duce burning and excoriation of the mouth and stomach, and
inflammation of the stomach, liver, and kidneys. And this
dangerous stuff is sold by ignorant fortune-tellers to any
equally ignorant, credulous creature who may send fifty
cents therefor.
The French Secret is only for fools. Header, you have
no occasion for it. It would be of no positive earthly ben-
efit, provided I could so construe language as to explain to
you what it is, in this connection. Be assured that you can-
not circumvent Nature, except at the expense of health.
Qui n'a sante vHa rien.
Druggists' clerks sometimes sell to boys tincture cantharis
for evil purposes.
Hasheesh is another dangerous article, sometimes sold at
random, and purchased for no good purpose. A few years
since, a great excitement was produced by the young ladies
of P Female Seminary obtaining and using a quantity
of hasheesh, "One girl took five grains, another ten grains.
The latter was rendered insensible, and with difficulty re-
stored to consciousness, while the former was rushing around
under the peculiar hallucinating eflfect of the drug, and in a
manner bordering on indecency." I obtained this statement,
with more that I cannot publish, from a physician who wit-
nessed the scene.
"Does he love me?"
Young girls and children are seduced into visiting fortune-
tellers. A Boston fortune-teller, in 1871, took a summer
tour through Eastern Massachusetts and New Hampshire.
At Manchester, one evening, some one knocked lightly at
her reception-room door, when, on her answering the sum-
mons, there stood three little girls, often or twelve summers.
"Well," said the lady, "what do you children want?"
YOUNG INQUIRERS.
251
'*We came to have our fortunes told," replied the young-
est, drawing her little form up to represent every half inch
of her diminutive dimensions. With a smile of incredulity,
the lady said, "It costs fifty cents. Besides, you are too
small to have a fortune told."
" We've got the money," replied the little speaker ; " and
we're not too little. Why, I am ten, and Jenny, here, is
twelve."
CHILDREN CONSULTING A FORTUNE-TELLER.
"Well, come in," replied the fortune-teller. There was a
lady present, who also asked what those children came
there for.
The girls sat up in some chairs proffered. The younger
one was so small that her little feet could not reach the floor,
and sitting back in her chair, her little limbs stuck out
straight, as such awkward little folks* will.
252
DOES HE LOVE ME ?
The woman told them something, to seem to cover the
money paid. It was not satisfactory, however, and the ten-'
year-old one put the following questions : —
"Do you think, ma'am, that the young man who is keeping
company with me loves me ? "
This was a poser, and the woman laughed outright.
"What did she reply?" I asked, shocked, though amused,
by the ridiculousness of the whole affair.
"O, Gad, if I know ! I was too busy then to listen."
The next question was mare strange than the first : —
"Will the young gentleman marry me, eventually?"
"Doubtless he will when you become older," was the
reply ; " and I advise you to think no more about it till you
are much older. "
I obtained this item from the third party present, the hus-
band of the fortune-teller.
X.
EMINENT PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS.
Lord Say. Why, Heaven ne'er made the universe a level.
Some trees are loftier than the rest, some mountains
O'erpeak their fellows, and some planets shine
With brighter ray above the skyey route
Than others. Nay, even at our feet, the rose
Outseents the lily ; and the humblest flower
Is noble still o'er meaner plants. And thus
Some men are nobler than the mass, and should,
By nature's order, shine above their brethren.
Lord Clifford. 'Tis true the noble should; but who is noble?
Heaven, and not heraldry, makes noble men.
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 ^SCULAPIAN.
— FIRST PATIENT. — *' NONPLUSSED ! " — ALL RIGHT AT LAST. — PROFESSORS
EBERLE AND DEVTEES. — 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.
It is amusing, as well as instructive, to compare notes on
the various circumstances which have led different young
men to adopt the science of medicine as their profes-
sion.
The advantages of birth and " noble blood " weigh lightly,
w^ien thrown into the balance, against circumstances of after
life, and its necessities, in ourselves or fellow-creatures.
In searching through biographies of famous people, of all
ages and countries (to collect a chapter on " Origin of Great
16 • (253)
254 MEAGRE BIOGRAPHIES.
Men ") , I am peculiarly convinced of the correctness of this
conclusion.
The earlier histories and traits of character — no matter
which way they point — of all great men are interesting to
review ; and yet it is a lamentable fact that the accounts of
boyhood days, aspirations, hopes, and struggles, with the
many little interesting items and episodes of the youth of
most great men are very meagre, and, in many cases, entirely
lost to the world.
In the published biographies of physicians this is partic-
ularly the case. You read the biography of one, and it will
suffice for the whole. It begins something like this : —
"Dr. A. was born in Blanktown, about the year 18 — ;
entered the office of Dr. Bolus, where he studied physic ;
attended college at Spoon Haven, where he graduated with
honors; arrived at eminence in his profession;" and, if de-
funct, ends, "he died at Mortgrass, and sleeps with his
fathers. JRequiescat in pace"
In presenting to the public the following little sketches of
physicians, I may only say that doctors, of all men, are con-
sidered public property, and have suffered more of the pub-
lic's kicks and cuffs than any other class of men, from the
time when Hercules amused himself by setting up old Dr.
Chiron, and shooting poisoned arrows at his vulnerable heel,
to the little divertisement of the lovely St. Calvin and his
consistory in cooking Michael Servetus, the Spanish physi-
cian; to the imprisonment of our army surgeons by their
** brethren " of the South, that they might not be instru-
mental in restoring Union soldiers to the ranks ; or the more
recent imprisonment of a physician without cause, and the
wholesale slaughter of students, in the Isle of Cuba.
"The Quaker Surgeon."
Dr. Valentine Mott gave no intimation, in his bo3'^hood
days, of the great ability that for a time seemed to lie dor-
BOYHOOD OF DOCTORS. 255
mant within the after-developed, massive, and well-balanced
brain of the celebrated surgeon. Except from the fact of
his being the son of a country doctor, his schoolmates
would as soon have expected to see him turn out a second-
rate oyster-man, — suggested by the ominous name of the
Bay, at Glen Cove, where Valentine was born, — as to be-
lieve that a boy of no more promise would develop into the
greatest physician and surgeon of the age ! He was reared
amongst doctors, — his father, and Dr. Valentine Searneu,
and others.
A " plough-boy " is as likely to become an eminent surgeon
as is the son of a practising physician. Dr. Willard Parker,
one of the most prominent physicians and surgeons of New
York city, was born in New Hampshire, in 1802, of humble
though most respectable parents. When Willard was but a
few years old, his family removed to Middlesex County,
Mass., evidently with a hope of 'bettering their circum-
stances. Here Mr. Parker entered more fully upon the
practical duties of an agricultural life, instructing his son
Willard, when not attending the village school, in the mys-
teries of "Haw, Buck, and gee up, Dobbin."
Until he was sixteen years old, young Parker was brought
up a " plough-boy '* and a tiller of the soil. From a " plough-
boy" he became the "master " of a village school, "teaching
the young idea how to shoot," which honest pursuit he con-
tinued for several years, until he had accumulated sufficient
means to enter Harvard. He was a hard-working student,
and his books were not thrown aside when he had obtained a
diploma, in 1830. ... As a lecturer and operator. Dr. Par-
ker has heen most successful. . . . Since the death of Dr.
Valentine Mott, in April, 1865, Professor Parker has been
elected president of .the New York Inebriate Asylum (Bing-
hamton) .
256
A FARMER BOY'S RESOLUTION.
An Onondaga Farmer Bot.
Imagine, dear reader, looking back over the space of
nearly forty years, that you see an uncouth young man,
twenty years of age, clad in the coarse clothes and cowhide
boots of an Onondaga
ftirmer, who, straightening
up from his laborious task
of potato hoeing, stops for
a moment, leaning with
one hand upon his hoe,
while he wipes the sweat
from his handsome, intel-
ligent, though sun-burned
brow with a cotton hand-
kerchief in the other. Here
is a picture for a painter !
Now he seems studiously
observino^ the old villai^re
doctor, who, seated in his
crazy old gig, drawn by
his ancient sorrel mare, is
leisurely jogging by on the
main turnpike.
"Good evening, Ste-
phen; p'taters doin' well?" says the doctor.
Receiving an affirmative answer, the doctor drives past,
and is gone from the sight, but not from the memory, of the
young farmer.
" And that is a representative of the science of medi-
cine ! "
So saying, the young man "hoed out his row%" — which
was his last, — picked up his coat, and returned to the
parental mansion, but a few rods distant. This was the
turning-point in his life.
THE ONONDAGA FARMER BOY.
SCENE IN BELLEVUE HOSPITAL. 257
We pass over twenty years or more.
It is operating-day at Bellevue Hospital, in New York
city. A very serious and important operation is about to
be performed. Three hundred students and physicians are
seated in a semicircle under the great dome of the hospital,
in profound silence and intense interest, while the professor
and attending surgeon is delivering a brief but comprehen-
sive lecture relative to the forthcoming operation.
The speaker is a man of middle age, medium height, deep,
expressive eyes, well-developed brow, with that excellent
quality of muscle and nerve that is only the result of earlier
out-door exercise and development, with calm deportment
and modest speech. " His conciseness of expression and quiet
self-possession are evident to every beholder, and compre-
hensive and congenial to every listener."
Who is this splendid man before whom students and phy-
sicians bow in such profound respect and veneration, and to
whom even Professors Mott, Parker, Elliott, Clark, etc.,
give especial attention?
It is Stephen Smith, M. D., once the Onondaga farmer
boy!
Says Dr. Francis, of New York, ''When a youthful
farmer is seen studying the works of learned authors during
that portion of the day which is generally set aside for relax-
ation and pleasing pastime, one may easily predict for him
ultimate success in the branch of life that he may choose,
provided he follows out the higher instincts of his nature.
The same zeal that caused Stephen Smith, farmer, to study
at the risk of ease, and meet the fatigue of body with the
energies of mind, has ever marked his course in after years.'*
Commencing Practice.
From that excellent work, " Scenes in the Practice of a
New York Surgeon," by Dr. E. H. Dixon, I copy, with
258 AN UNFLEDGED ^SCULAPIAN.
some abbreviation, the following, which the author terms
" Leaves from the Log-book of an Unfledged JEsculapian : " —
"In the year 1830 I was sent forth, like our long-suffering
and much-abused prototype, — old father Noah's crow, — from
the ark of safety, the old St. Duane Street College. I
pitched my tent, and set up my trap, in what was then a
fashionable up-town street.
" I hired a modest house, and had my arm-chair, my mid-
night couch, and my few books in my melancholy little
office, and I confess that I now and then left an amputating-
knife, or some other awful-looking instrument, on the table,
to impress the poor women who came to me for advice.
"These little matters, although the * Academy' would
frown upon them, I considered quite pardonable. God
knows I would willingly have adopted their most approved
method of a splendid residence, and silver-mounted harnesses
for my bays ; but they were yet in dream-land, eating moon-
beams, and my vicious little nag had nearly all this time to
eat his oats and nurse his bad temper in his comfortable
stable.
" In this miserable way I read over my old books, watered
my rose-bushes, — sometimes with tears, — drank my tea and
ate my toast, and occasionally listened to the complaint of an
unfortunate Irish damsel, with her customary account of
* a pain in me side an' a flutterin' about me heart.' At
rare intervals I ministered to some of her countrywomen in
their fulfilment of the great command when placed in the Gar-
den of Eden. (What a dirty place it would have been if
inhabited by Irish women I)
" And thus I spent nearly a year without a single call to
any person of character. I think I should have left in de-
spair if it had not been for a lovely creature up the street.
She was the wife of a distinguished fish merchant down
town.
*'This lovely, woman was Mrs. Mackerel. I will explain
MR. AND MRS. MACKEREL. ♦ 259
how it was that I was summoned to her ladyship's mansion,
and had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Mackerel, of the firm of
* Mackerel, Haddock & Dun.'
*' One bitter cold night in January, just as I was about to
retire, a furious ring at the front door made me feel partic-
ularly amiable ! A servant announced the sudden and alarm-
ing illness of Mrs. Mackerel, with the assurance that as the
family physician was out of town, Mrs. M. would be obliged
if I would immediately visit her. Accordingly, I soon found
myself in the presence of the accomplished lady, having — I
confess it — given my hair an extra touch as I entered the
beautiful chamber.
" Mrs. Mackerel was not a bad-tempered lady ; she was
only a beautiful fool — nothing less, dear reader, or she
would have never married old Mackerel. Her charms would
have procured her a husband of at least a tolerable exterior.
His physiognomy presented a remarkable resemblance to his
namesake. Besides, he chewed and smoked, and the com-
bination of the aroma of his favorite luxuries with the arti-
cles of his merchandise must have been most uncongenial
to the curve of such lips and such nostrils as Mrs. Mack-
erel's.
"I was received by Mr. Mackerel in a manner that in-
creased observation has since taught me is sufficiently indic-
ative of the hysterical ^na^e of a domestic dialogue. He was
not so obtuse as to let me directly into the true cause of his
wife's nervous attack and his own collectedness, and yet he
felt it would not answer to make too light of it before me.
" Mr. and Mrs. M. had just returned from a party. (The
party must be the 'scape-goat'! ) He assured me that as
the lady was in the full enjoyment of health previously, he
felt obliged to attribute the cause of her attack and speech-
less condition. — for she spoke not one word, or gave a sign
— to the dancing, heated room, and the supper.
" I was fully prepared to realize the powers of ice-cream.
260 • SATISFACTORY PRACTICE.
cake, oranges, chicken-salad, oysters, sugar-plums, punch,
and champagne, and at one moment almost concluded to de-
spatch a servant for an emetic of ipecac ; but — I prudently
avoided it. Aside from the improbability of excess of appe-
tite through the portal of such a mouth, the lovely color of
the cheeks and lips utterly forbade a conclusion favorable to
Mr. Mackerel's solution of the cause.
" I placed my finger on her delicate and jewelled wrist. All
seemed calm as the thought of an angel's breast !
"I was nonplussed. * Could any tumultuous passion ever
have agitated that bosom so gently swelling in repose ? '
" Mackerel's curious questions touching my sagacity as to
his wife's condition received about as satisfactory a solution
a^ do most questions put to me on the cause and treatment
of diseases ; and having tolerably befogged him with opin-
ions, and lulled his suspicions to rest, by the apparent inno-
cent answers^ to his leading questions, he arrived at the con-
clusion most desirable to him, viz., that I was a fool — a
conviction quite necessary in some nervous cases.
" So pleased was Mr. M. with the soothing influences of
my brief visit that he very courteously waited on me to the
outside door, instead of ordering a servant to show me out,
and astonished me by desiring me to call on the patient again
in the morning.
" After my usual diversion of investigating * a pain an' a
flutterin' about me heart,' and an * O, I'm kilt intirely,' I
visited Mrs. Mackerel, and had the extreme pleasure of find-
ing her quite composed, and in conversation with her fash-
ionable friend, Mrs. Tiptape. The latter was the daughter
of a * retired milliner,' and had formed a desirable union with
Tiptape, the eminent dry goods merchant. Fortunately —
for she was a woman of influence — I passed the critical ex-
amination of Mrs. T. unscathed by her sharp black eyes,
and, as the sequel will show, was considered by her * quite
an agreeable person.'
A SURE CURE. 261
'*Poor Mrs. Mackerel, notwithstanding her efforts to con-
ceal it, had evidently received some cruel and stunning com-
munication from her husband on the night of my summons ;
her agitated circulation during the fortnight of my attendance
showed to my conviction some persistent and secret cause for
her nervousness.
" One evening she assured me that she felt she should now
rapidly recover, as Mr. Mackerel had concluded to take her
to Saratoga. I, of course, acquiesced in the decision, though
my previous opinion had not been asked. I took a final
leave of the lovely woman, and the poor child soon departed
for Saratoga.
"The ensuing week there was a sheriff's sale at Mackerel's
residence. The day following the Mackerels' departure, Mr.
Tiptape did me the honor to inquire after the health of my
family ; and a week later, Master Tiptape having fallen and
bumped his dear nose on the floor, I had the felicity of soothing
the anguish of his mamma in her magnificent boudoir^ and
holding to her lovely nose the smelling salts, and offering
such consolation as her trying position required ! "
Thus was commenced the practice of one of the first phy-
sicians of New York. The facts are avouched for. The
names, of course, are manufactured, to cover the occupation
of the parties. The doctor still lives, in the enjoyment
of a lucrative and respectable practice, and the love and con-
fidence of his numerous friends and patrons.
Quite as ludicrous scenes could be revealed by most phy-
sicians, if they would but take the time to think over their
earlier efforts, and the various circumstances which were
mainly instrumental in getting them into a respectable
practice.
How Professor Eberle started.
The young man who has just squeezed through a medical
college, and come out with his "sheepskin," who thinks all
262 EBERLE AND DEWEES.
he then has to do is to put up his sign, and forthwith he will
have a crowd of respectable patients, is to be pitied for his
verdancy. The great Professor John Eberle "blessed his
stars" when, after graduating as ''Doctor of Medicine" in
the University of Pennsylvania, and making several unsuc-
cessful attempts at practice in Lancaster County, he received
the appointment as physician of the " out-door poor " of
Philadelphia. After that, his writings, attracting public
attention, were mostly contributive to his success and
advancement.
Energy and determination are better property than even
scholastic lore and a medical diploma, for unless you possess
the former, talent and education fall to the earth.
Dr. William P. Dewees, formerly Professor of Obstetrics
in the Universit}'' of Pennsylvania, the celebrated author,
physician, and surgeon, practised seventeen years before he
obtained a diploma. He was of Swedish descent on his
father's side, and Irish on his mother's. His father died in
very limited circumstances, when William was a boy ; hence
he received no collegiate education until such time as he
could earn means, by his own eflbrts, to pay for that coveted
desideratum. We find him, with an ordinary school educa-
tion, serving as an apothecary's clerk, a student of medicine,
and at the early age of twenty-one years trying to j^i'actise
medicine in a country town fourteen miles from Philadelphia.
Young Dewees possessed great talent and energy, but his
personal appearance was scarcely such, at that early age, as
to inspire the stoical country folks with the requisite confi-
dence to speedily intrust him with their precious lives and
more cherished coppers !
"He was scarcely of medium stature, florid complexion,
brown hair, and was remarkably youthful in his appearance,"
says Professor Hodge, M. D.
I have before me an excellent likeness " of the embryo
professor," which admirably corresponds with the descrip-
STARTING IN LIFE. 263
tion given above ; but though " youthful," yea, bordering on
"greenness," I can read in that frank, intelh'gent counte-
nance the lines of deep thought, and a soul burning with de-
sire for greater knowledge. The too florid countenance and
narrow nostrils are sure indications of a consumptive predis-
position. Dr. Dewees died May 30, 1841. He was well
read in French and Latin, and also various sciences.
A HARD Starting.
Sketch of Western Practice, — The following interesting
sketch is from the able pen of Dr. Richmond, of Ohio, now
a wealthy and eminent M. D. It was originally contributed,
if I mistake not, to the "Scalpel."
" I set myself down with my household goods in a land of
strangers. How I was to procure bread, or what I was to
do, were shrouded in the mysterious future. Memory came
to my consolation; for, in spite of myself, the ^ Diary of a
London Physician,' read in other days, came, with its racy
pictures, flitting before my mind's eye ; and I knew not but
I, too, might yet wish myself, my Mary, and my child sleep-
ing in the cold grave, to hide me from the persecution that
seemed to follow me with such sleepless vigilance. . . .
" My store of old watches now came into play. A gentle-
man wishing to sell out his land, I invested all the wealth I
possessed in the purchase of a ten-acre lot, shouldered my
axe, and by the aid of a brother I soon prepared logs for the
mill sufficient to erect me a small dwelling. I never was hap-
pier than when preparing the ground and splitting the blocks
of sandstone for the foundation of my house. One customer,
whose wife I had carried through a lingering fever, furnished
me a frame for a dwelling, and I fell in his debt for a pair
of boots. Another furnished nails and glass, and in the
course of eight months I moved into my new house.
" For two years I fed my cow, and raised my own prov-
ender to feed my gallant nag, which shared my toil and its
264 FOOTING IT.
profits. My first two years' labor barely returned sufficient
profit to pay for my home an(J feed my little family.
"My nag had died, and the terrible drought of 1846 forced
me to relinquish the horse I had hired, and for five months I
performed all my visits on foot, often travelling from six to
ten miles to see one patient.
"These were trying times; but what if the elements were
unpropitious ? I had food and shelter for myself and family, —
blessings about which I had often been in doujbt, — and I was
fully prepared to let ' the heathen rage, and the people im-
agine ' what they chose I . . . The first winter was one
of great severity ; the weather was very changeable, and the
most awful snow-storms were often succeeded by heavy rains,
and the roads so horrid as to be impassable on horseback or
in carriages. I had a patient five miles distant, sick with
lung fever, and, in an attendance of forty days I made thirty
journeys -on foot (three hundred miles to attend one pa-
tient ! ) His recovery added much to my reputation, and I
received for my services a new cloak and coat, which I much
needed, and a hive of honey bees ! . . .
"An old horse which I again hired of a friend had a polite
way of limping, and was a source of much merriment among
my patrons. I persistently attributed what they deemed a
fault entirely to the politeness of the quadruped ; and this
nag, with my plain and rustic appearance, endeared me to
the laboring population, and thus my calamities became my
greatest friends. My fortune changed, and the experience
and name I had acquired now came in as capital in trade,
and a flood of * luck ' soon followed."
Abernethy's Boyhood.
Seated upon the outside of an ancient London stage-coach,
to which were attached four raw-boned, old horses, just
ready to start for Wolverhaven one pleasant afternoon,
you may easily imagine, kind reader, — for it is a fact, — a
THE OLD STAGE-COACH.
265
THE POLITE QUADRUPED.
chubby-faced, commonplace little boy, some ten years old,
with another like youthful companion, — "two Londoners," —
while comfortably ensconced within, in one corner of the
vehicle, is a large, stern-looking old gentleman, in "im-
mense wig and ruffled shirt."
The stage-horn is sounded, the driver cracks his whip, the
sleepy old nags wake up, the coach rocks from side to side,
and in a moment more the team is ofl' for its destination.
Why I the reader is readily reminded of the scene of " Old
jSqueers,** taking the wretched little boys down to his " Acad-
emy," in Yorkshire, "where youth were boarded, clothed,
furnished with pocket-money," and taught everything, from
" writing to trigonometry," " arithmetic to astronomy,"
266
ABERNETHY AT SCHOOL.
languages of the *Hiving and dead,'* and "diet unparal-
leled ! " Nevertheless it is another case, far before " Old
Squeers" time.
The elderly gentleman, in top-wig and immense ruffles,
was Dr. Robertson, teacher of Wolverhampton Grammar
School, and the chubby little boy was Master John Aber-
nethy. Who the "other boy" was is not known, as he
never made his mark in after life. Says Dr. Macilwain, —
"We can quite imagine
a little boy, careless in his
dress, not slovenly, how-
ever, with both hands in
his trousers pockets, some
morning about the year
1774, standing under the
sunny side of the wall at
Wolverhampton School;
his pockets containing, per-
haps, a few shillings, some
ha'pence, a knife with the
point broken, a pencil, to-
gether with a tolerably ac-
curate sketch of ' Old
Robertson's wig,' — which
article, shown in an ac-
credited portrait now be-
fore us, was one of those
enormous by-gone bushes,
which represented a sort of impenetrable fence around the
cranium, as if to guard the precious material within ; the
said bo}^ just finishing a story to his laughing companions,
though no sign of mirth appeared in him, save the least curl
of the lip, and a smile that would creep out of the corner of
his eye in spite of himself.'*
" The doctor " was represented as being a passionate man.
YOUNG ABERNETHY.
OLD SQUEERS. 267
Squeers again ! One day young Abernethy had to do
some Greek Testament, when his glib translation aroused
the suspicion of the watchful old doctor, who discovered the
*crib* in a Greek-Latin version, partially secreted under the
boy's desk. No sooner did the doctor make this discovery
than with his doubled fist he felled the culprit with one blow
to the earth. Squeers again !
"'Why, what an old plagiarist Mr. Dickens must have
been ! ' you exclaim.
"But the case in * Nicholas Nickleby' is worse, far worse,
for * the little boy sitting on the trunk only sneezed.'
"'Hallo, sir,* growled the schoolmaster (Squeers),
'what's that?'
"'Nothing, sir,' replied the little boy.
" ' Nothing, sir I ' exclaimed Squeers.
"'Please, sir, I sneezed!' rejoined the boy, trembling till
the little trunk shook under him.
"'O, sneezed, did you?' retorted Mr. Squeers. 'Then
what did you say "Nothing" for, sir? '
"In default of a better answer to this question, the little
boy screwed a couple of knuckles into his eyes, and began
to cry ; wherefore Mr. Squeers knocked him off the trunk
with a blow on one side of the head, and knocked him on
again with a blow on the other."
Robertson was a fact ; Squeers was a fable. That's the
difference.
As Dr. Robertson taught neither arithmetic nor writing
in his school, the pupils went to King Street, to a Miss
Ready, to receive instruction in those branches. This lady,
if report is true, wielded the quill and cowhide with equal
grace and mercy, and when the case came to hand, did not
accept the modern advice, to " spare the boy and spoil the
rod."
When the great surgeon was at the height of his fame, in
London, many years afterwards, Miss Ready, still rejoicing
268 A GOOD MEMORY.
*
in "single blessedness,'* called on her former pupil. In in-
troducing his respected and venerable teacher to his wife,
Abernethy laconically remarked, "I beg to introduce you to
a lady who has boxed my ears many a time."
An old schoolmate, when eighty-five years old, wrote to
the author of "Memoirs of Abernethy," saying, among other
things, "In sports he took the first place, and usually made
a strong side ; was quick and active, and soon learned a new
game."
It was contrary to his own desire that John Abernethy be-
came a physician. " Had my father let me be a lawyer, I
should have known by heart every act of Parliament," he re-
peatedly affirmed.
This was not bragging, as the following anecdote will il-
lustrate : —
On a birthday anniversary of Mrs. Abernethy, mother of
John, a gentleman recited a long cojjy of verses, which he
.had composed for the occasion.
" Ah," said young Abernethy, " that is a good joke, pre-
tending you have written these verses in honor of my mother.
Why, sir, I know those lines well, and can say them by
heart."
" It is quite impossible, as no one has seen the copy but
myself," rejoined the gentleman, the least annoyed by the
accusation of plagiarism.
Upon this Abernethy arose, and repeated them throughout,
correctly, to the no small discomfiture of the author. Aber-
nethy had remembered them by hearing the gentleman recite
them but once !
" A boy thwarted in his choice of a profession is generally
somewhat indiflferent as to the course next presented to him."
Eesiding next door neighbor to Abernethy's fiither Avas Dr.
Charles Blicke, a surgeon in extensive practice. This was
very convenient. Sir Charles is represented as having been
quick-sighted enough to discover that " the Abernethy boy "
PEANUTS AND ORANGES. 269
was clever, a good scholar, and withal a " sharp fellow."
Thus, between the indifference of the parent, and the selfish-
ness of the surgeon, the would-be lawyer, John Abernethy,
was apprenticed to the " barber-surgeon " for five years.
He was then but fifteen years of age.
" All that young Abernethy probably knew of Sir Charles
was, that he rode about in a fine carriage, saw a great many
people, and took a great many fees ; all of which, though
presenting no further attractions for Abernethy, made a
j^rimafade case not altogether repulsive."
We must not forget to mention that young Abernethy was
of a very inquiring mind. " When I was a boy," he said
in after years, " I half ruined myself in buying oranges and
sweetmeats, in order to ascertain the effects of different
kinds of diet on diseases."
Whether he tried said " oranofes and other thino:s" on him-
self or some unfortunate victim, my informant saith not ; but
I leave the reader to decide by his own earlier appetites and
experiences. " When I was a boy," I think is significant of
the probabilities that it Avas his own digestive organs that
were " half ruined."
Be it as it may, it reminds me of the case of a little coun-
try boy, who, on his first advent to the city on a holiday,
was chaperoned by his somewhat older and sharper city
cousin, — "one of the b'hoys," — who exercised a sort of
vigilance over the uninitiated rustic, that the little fellow
might not surfeit himself by too great a rapacity for pea-
nuts, gingerbread, candies, and oranges, often generously
sharing the danger by partaking largely of the small boy's
purchases in order to spare his more delicate stomach.
Finding the ignorant little rustic about to devour a nice-
looking orange, his cousin pounced upon him just in time to
prevent the rash act.
" Here, Sammy ; don't you know that is one of the nastiest
and most indigestiblest things you could put into your
stomach ? Give it here ! "
IT
270 THE DOCTOR'S- BOY.
Rustic, whose faith in the wisdom of his maturer cousin,
though very great, was yet quite counterbalanced by the
sweets in the orange, slightly held back, when the other
continued, —
"Leastwise, Sammy, let's have a hold of it, and suck the
abominable juice out for you."
(For this digression I beg the pardon of the reader; for
the idea I thank Frank Leslie.)
George Macilwain, M. D., F. R. C. S., etc., in prefacing
the life of the great London surgeon, gives a brief and inter-
esting sketch of his own boyhood, also his early impressions
of Abernethy, and his first attendance on his lectures.
" My father practised on the border of a forest, and when
he was called at night to visit a distant patient, it was the
greatest treat to me, when a little boy, to be allowed to sad-
dle my pony and accompany him. I used to wonder what
he could find so * disagreeable ' in that which was to me the
greatest possible pleasure ; for whether we were skirting a
bog on the darkest night, or cantering over the heather by
moonlight, I certainly thought there could be nobody hap-
pier than I and my pony. It was on one of these occasions
that I first heard the name of * Abernethy.' The next dis-
tinct impression I have of him was derived from hearing
father say that a lady patient of his had gone up to London
to have an operation performed by Dr. Abernethy, though
my father did not think the operation necessary to a cure, and
that Abernethy entirely agreed with him ; that the ojDeration
was not performed ; that he sent the lady back, and she was
recovering. This gave me a notion that Dr. Abernethy
must be a good man, as well as a great physician.
" As long as surgery meant riding across the forest with
my father, holding his horse, or, if he stopped in too long,
seeing if his horse rode as well as my pony, I thought it a
very agreeable occupation ; but when I found that it included
many other things not so agreeable, I soon discovered that
there was a profession I liked much better. . . ,
LECTURERS. 271
" Disappointed in being allowed to follow the pursuit I had
chosen, I looked on the one I was about to adopt with some-
thing approximating to repulsion ; and thus one afternoon,
about the year 1816, and somewhat to my own surprise, I
found myself walking down Holborn Hill ou my way to Dr.
Abernethy's lecture at St. Bartholomew's.
" When Dr. Abernethy entered, I was pleased with the
expression of his countenance. I almost fancied he sym-
pathized with the melancholy with which I felt oppressed.
At first I listened with some attention ; as he proceeded, I
began even to feel pleasure ; as he progressed, I found my-
self entertained ; and before he concluded, I was delighted.
What an agreeable, happy man he seems ! What a fine pro-
fession I What wouldn't I give to know as much as he does !
Well, I will see what I can do. In short, I was converted."
All who ever heard him lecture agree that Dr. Abernethy
had a most happy way of addressing students. Notwith-
standing he has often been represented as rough in his every-
day intercourse with men, he was easy, mild, and agreeable
in the lecture-hall, and kind and compassionate in the operat-
ing-room.
After having carefully studied all that has been written
respecting his style and manner as a lecturer and delineator,
and also studiously listened to and watched the ways and
peculiarities of our most excellent lecturer on anatomy at
Harvard, I find many striking resemblances between Dr.
Abernethy and Professor Oliver Wendell Holmes.
"The position of Abernethy was always easy and natural,
sometimes almost homely. In the anatomical lecture he
always stood, and either leaned against the wall, with his
arms folded before him, or rested one hand on the table;
sometimes one hand in his pocket. -In his surgical lecture
he usually sat. He was particularly happy in a kind of
cosiness, or friendliness of manner, which seemed to iden-
tify him with his audience, as if we were about to investigate
272 A BLOWING ILLUSTRATION.
something interesting together, and not as though we were
going to be Meetured at,' at all. His voice seldom rose
above what we term the conversational, and was always
pleasing in quality, and enlivened by a sort of archness of
expression."
He always kept his eye on the audience, except slightly
turning to one side to explain a diagram or subject, " turn-
ing his back on no man."
" He had no offensive habits. We have known lecturers
who never began without making faces ; " we might add,
" and with many a hem and haw, or nose-blowing."
" Not long ago we heard a very sensible lecturer, and a
very estimable man, produce a most ludicrous efiect by the
above. He had been stating very clearly some important
facts, and he then observed, —
"'The great importance of these I will now proceed to
show — * when he immediately began to apply his pocket-
handkerchief most vigorously to his nose, still facing his
audience."
The ludicrousness of this "illustration" may well be im-
agined. Of course the students lost their gravity, and
laughed and cheered vigorously.
Going in to hear Dr. Holmes lecture, at one o'clock one
afternoon, recently, the writer was both shocked and aston-
ished, on the occasion of the professor slipping in a pleasing
innuendo, by hearing the students cheer with their hands,
and stamp with their thick boots on the seats.
I shall have occasion to refer to this splendid man, the
pleasing lecturer, the skilful operator, the able author, the
ripe scholar, the pride of Harvard and the state, — Dr. O. W.
Holmes, — in another chapter.
"PINNY, SIR?" 273
The homeless Student.
(Scene from the Early Life op a Boston Physician. By permission.)
Standing on the steps of the Astor House, New York, one
cheerless forenoon in early June, with my carpet-bag in one
hand and my fresh medical diploma in the other, with a
heavy weight of sorrow at my heart, and only sixteen cents
in my pocket, I presented, to myself at least, a picture of
such utter despair as words are inadequate to express."^
My home — no; I had none — the home, rather, of my
kind old father-in-law, where dwelt, for the time being, my
wife and child, was many hundred miles away. And how
was I to reach it? I could not walk that distance, and six-
teen cents would not carry me there. I looked up Broad-
way, and I looked down towards the Battery. I was alone
amid an immense sea of humans, which ebbed and flowed
continually past me. O, how wistfully I looked to see if
there might be one face amongst the throng which I might
recognize ! but there was none. Strange, passing strange,
not one of that host did I ever gaze upon before ! Where
— how — should I raise the money necessary to take me
from this land of strangers?
"Pinny, sir? Just one pinny. Me father is broken up,
and me mither is sick at home. For God's sake give me jist
one pinny to buy me some bread."
I turned my gaze upon the picture of squalor and wretch-
edness just by my side. I need not describe her ; she was
just like a thousand others in that great Babel.
" Here is doubtless a case of distress, but it is not of the
heart, like mine. Such poor have no heart. Skin, muscle,
head, stomach ! heart, none!"
" Where is your father, did you say ?" I asked, mechanically.
"In the Slarter-house ; broken up from a fall from a
* See Frontispiece.
274 THE " SLARTER-HOUSE."
stagin' ill Twenty-sixth Street, sir," replied the beggar-girl,
still extending her hand for a penny.
"What is he doing in a slaughter-house, sis?" I in-
quired.
"The Slarter-house is Bellyvew horse-pittle, sir; that's
what we Irish call it, sir. Will ye give me the pinny,
sir?"
"PINNY, SIR? JUST ONE PINNY."
"O, yes, to be sure. Here are pennies for you. Go!"
I knew of a poor Irishman who was brought in there at
the hospital a few days before badly " broken up " from a
fall on Twenty-sixth Street. His name was John Murphy ;
they are all named Murphy, or something similar; so it was
useless to ask the child her father's name — probably it
would have been Murphy.
The conversation had the good effect of arousing me from
my lethargy to action. I must not stay in this metropolis
AFOOT AND ALONE.
275
and starve. I could not remain and beg, like the Irish
girl.
I went to Professor , the dean, and requested him to
take back my diploma, and let me have sufficient money to
carry me home. He coifiplied — God bless him! — and I
took the Sound steamer that afternoon for the land of my
nati\wty. What cared I if I was a second-class passenger ;
I would in two days see my wife and my child !
I had reached home, and was in the bosom of my family
once more, and amongst my friends, in a Christian land ; for
which I " thanked God, and took courage."
" Then pledged me the wine-cup, and fondly I swore
Ne'er from my home and my weeping friends to part ;
My children kissed me a thousand times o'er;
My wife sobbed aloud in her fullness of heart."
I had a " call" to practise in a country town twenty-five
miles from E , where my family was to remain a few
days till I had secured a house to cover their heads amongst
the good friends who were to become my future patrons, as
a few of them had been previous to my going to college.
The stage, a one-horse affair, called for my trunk, medicine-
case, etc., and, having no money with which to pay my fare,
I told the driver that " 1 would walk along/' while he picked
up another passenger in an opposite direction, " and if he
overtook me on the road before I got a ride with some one
going to S , he could take me in."
I walked bravely along a mile or more, and, hearing the
stage coming, I stepped from the road-side, secreting myself
beneath a friendly tree till he drove past. Issuing from my
hiding-place, I trudged along till noon. My darling little
wife had taken the precaution to place in my oversack pocket
some doughnuts and cheese, and, when I had reached a clear,
running brook, I sat myself down upon a log, under the shade
276
DINING OUT.
of the woods, and partook Of my very frugal meal, quench-
ing my thirst from the waters of the brook, which, like
Diogenes, I raised in the hollow of my hand.
Thus refreshed, I picked up my overcoat, and again
walked along. Before dark I reached S , pretty tired
and foot-sore from such a long walk.
THE PENNILESS PHYSICIAN.
The people, who were expecting me, were much surprised
at my non-arrival in the mail ; but the unsophisticated
driver assured them I had probably secured a ride ahead of
him, and I would put in an appearance before nightfall.
About midnight the door-bell rang, — I stopped at the
hotel that night, — and a young gentleman asked for Dr. C.
I answered the call at once, which was to the daughter of
one of the most influential citizens of the place. The young
man who called me was her intended. They had been to a
party, and she had partaken freely of oysters, milk, and
pickles.
Never did fifteen grains of ipecac prove a greater friend to
A REMARKABLE CURE.
277
me than it did on that occasion ; and in an hour I was back
to bed again.
The news of the new doctor's arrival , fresh from a New
Yorli college, and his first "remarkable cure of the post-
master's daughter " that same night, spread like wildfire,
and my reputation was nearly established.
XL
GHOSTS AND WITCHES.
** Save and defend us from our ghostly enemies." — Common Prater.
FOLLY OF BELIEF IN GHOSTS. — WHY GHOSTS ARE ALWAYS WHITE. — A TRUE
STORY. — THE GHOST OF THE CAMP. — A GHOSTLY SENTRY-BOX. — A MYS-
TERY. — THE NAGLES FAMILY. — RAISING THE DEAD. — A LIVELY STAMPEDE.
— HOLY WATER. — C^SAR'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 OP ENDOR NOT A WITCH. — WEIGHING FLESH
AGAINST THE BIBLE. — THERE ARE NO GHOSTS, OR WITCHES.
Is it not quite time — I appeal to the sensible reader —
that such folly was expunged from our literature? What is
a ghost ? Who ever saw,
heard, felt, tasted, or
smelled one? Must a per-
son possess some mirac-
ulous quality of percep-
tion beyond the five senses
commonly allotted to man
in order to become cogni-
zant of a ghostly presence ?
What stupid folly is
ghost belief! Yet there are very many individuals in this
enlightened day and generation, who, from perverted spirit-
uality, or great credulousness, will accept a ghost story,
or a " spiritual revelation," without wincing.
It would seem that many great men of the past, as Calvin,
(278)
BELIEVERS IN GHOSTS.
ORIGIN OF THE GHOST. 279
Bacon, Milton, Dante, Lords Byron and Nelson, Sir Walter
Scott, Wordsworth, and others, believed in the existence
of ghosts and spirits on this mnndane sphere.
There are but two classes who believe in ghosts, viz., the
ignorant as one class, and persons with large or pervert-
ed spirituality — phrenological ly speaking — as the other.
These are the believers in dreams, in ghosts, in spirits, and
fortune-telling. These, too, are the religious (?) fanat-
ics, etc.
The Origin of the word Ghost
is curious.
"The first significance of the word, as well as 'spirit,* is
breath, or wind." It is of Anglo-Saxon origin, and is from
gust, the wind. Hence, a gust of wind. The Irish word
goath, wind, comes nearer to the modern English pronuncia-
tion, and shows how easily it could have been corrupted
to ghost.
It is easy to imagine the good old Saxon ladies, sitting
around the evening fireside, and just as one of them has
finished some marvellous story of that superstitious age, they
are startled by a! sudden blast of wind, sweeping around the
gabled cottage, and her listeners exclaim, in suppressed
breath, —
" Hark ! There's a fearful gust ! "
The transit from gust to ghost is easily done. The clothes
spread upon the bushes without, or pinned to the lines, flap-
ping in the night air, are seen through the shutterless win-
dows, and they become the object of attraction. The effect
supersedes the cause, and the clothes become the gust,
goath, or ghost ! The clothes, necessarily, must be white, or
they could not he seen in the night time! Hence a ghost is
always clothed in white. Therefore the wind (gust) is no
longer the ghost, but any white object seen moving in the
night air.
280
A WANDERING GHOST.
" HARK ! THERE'S A FEARFUL GUST ! "
** But I am a wandering ghost —
I am an idle breath,
That the sweets of the things now lost
Are haunting unto death.
Pity me out in the cold,
Never to rest any more,
Because of my share in the purple and gold,
Lost from the world's great store.
** I whirl through empty space,
A hapless, hurried ghost ;
For me there is no place —
I'm weary, wandering, lost.
Safe from the night and cold.
All else is sheltered — all,
From the sheep at rest in the fold,
To the black wasp on the wall."
Moffat says that a tribe of Caffres formerly employed the
word Morino to designate the Supreme Being ; but as they
A TRUE GHOST STORY.
281
sank into savagery, losing the idea of God, it came to mean
only a fabulous ghost, of which they had great terror.
Having briefly shown the folly of the existence of the
word in our vocabulary, I will proceed to explode a few of
the best authenticated — so called — " ghost stories ; " and if I
l6ave anything unexplained in ghostology, let the reader
attribute it to either my want of space in which to write so
much, or the neglect of my early education in the dead
languages.
The Ghost of the Camp.
I obtained the following story from one of the sentries : —
At Portsmouth, E. I., there was a camp established dur-
ing the late war, 18 6-. There was a graveyard in one
corner of the enclosed grounds, where several soldier-boys
had been buried from the hospital, and here a guard was
nightly stationed.
^ Of course there were many stories told around the camp-
fires, of ghosts and spirits that flitted about the mounds at
the dead hours of the night, circulated particularly to frighten
those stationed at that point on picket duty.
The body of a soldier had recently been exhumed and
placed in a new and more respectable coffin than the pine
box coflSn furnished by Uncle Sam, in which he had been
buried, and the old one was left on the ground.
Partly to protect himself from the inclemency of the
weather, and quite as much to show his utter disregard of all
ghostly visitors, my informant secured the old pine coffin,
" washed it out, though it was impossible to remove all the
stains," and, driving a stake firmly into the ground, he stood
the coffin on one end, and, removing the lid, used to stand
therein on rainy nights.
" When it did not rain, I turned it down, arid my com-
panion and myself used to sit on the bottom.
" One day a soldier-boy had died in the hospital, and his
282
NOT EASILY FRIGHTENED.
friends came to take the body home for Christian burial. It
was necessary to remove him in a sheet to the place where
they had an elegant casket, bought by his wealthy friends, to
receive the remains.
" That very night I was on duty with my friend Charley
S., when, near midnight, seated upon the empty coffin, with
my gun resting against
the side, and my head
resting in the pahns of
my hands, I fell into a
drowse.
" Waking up sudden-
ly, I saw something
white through the dark-
ness before me ; for it
was a fearfully dark
night, I assure you. I
rubbed my sleepy eyes
to make sure of ray
sight, and took another
look. I discerned u
form, higher than a man,
moving about over the
mounds but a few yards
distant. It had wide
side-wings, but they did
not seem to assist in the
motion of the body part,
which did not reach to
must be asleep, and actually
pinched my legs to awake myself before I took a final look at
his ghostship. There he stood, stock still. I listened for my
companion, without removing my eyes from the white object
before me. Still I was not scared, but meant to see it out.
I knew I could not see a man far through that impenetrable
A GRAVE SENTRY.
the orround. I thou<2fht I
>
A MYSTERY EXPLAINED. 285
darkness, for there were no stars nor moon to reveal him.
I would not call for help, for if it was a farce to scare me,
I should become the laughing-stock of the whole camp.
" Just then I heard the grass crackle, and I knew Charley
was approaching in the rear. Still there hung the appari-
tion. I arose from the coffin, my eyes fixed on the object
before me, picked up my musket, took deliberate aim at the
centre of the thing, and just as I cocked my rifle, I heard
Charley set back the hammer of his ' death-dealer.* He, too,
had discovered the very remarkable appearance, whatever
it was ; and now the guns of two ' unfailing shots ' covered
the object. In another second it had suddenly disappeared !
I then spoke, and we ran forward, but found nothing!
Where had it gone so very suddenly? It had vanished with-
out sight or sound. We gave up the search ; but still I did
not believe we had seen anything supernatural.
" There was no little discussion in camp on the following
day on the subject. Charley said but little. I could not
explain the remarkable phenomenon, and a splendid ghost
story was about established, in spite of me, before the
mystery became unravelled.
"A tall fellow, who worked about the hospital, and who
assisted in taking away the corpse, was returning with the
sheet, when he thought he would give the sentry a scare
from his coffin by throwing the sheet over his head and
stretchinoj out his arms like wins^s. His clothes beins:
black, his legs did not show ; hence the appearance of a white
object floating in the air. Hearing the guns cocked, he in-
stantly jerked the sheet from his head ; winding it up, he
turned and ran away. This accounted for it becoming so in-
stantaneously invisible.
"'Yes,' said the sentry, 'and in a second more you would
have been made a ghost 1 ' "
286
"JOHN TOM NAGLES, SIR.'
Eaising the Dead,
The Nagles Family, — The following remarkable and
ridiculous affair transpired in a village where the writer once
resided. The Nagleses were Irish. The ftimily consisted of
old Nagles, his wife, — who did washing for my mother, —
John Tom and Tom John, besides Mary. The reason of
having the boys named as above was, that in case either died,
the sahited names would still be in the family. This was
old Mrs. Nagles* explanation of the matter.
The old man worked about the wharves, wheeled wood
and carried coal, and did
such like jobs during sum-
mer, and chopped wood
in the winter. I well re-
member of hearing stories
of his greenness when he
first came to town. He
was early employed to
wheel wood on board a
coaster lying at the dock.
The captain told him to wheel a load down the plank, cry
"Under ! '* to the men in the hold, and tip down the barrow
of wood. All went well till old Nagles got to the stopping-
place, over the hold, when he dumped down the load, and
cried out, " Stand ferninst, there, down cellar ! " to the im-
minent peril of breaking the head$ of the wood-stevedores
below.
I well remember also the first appearance of the two boys
at the village school one winter.
" What is your name ? " inquired the master of the eldest.
"Me name, is it? John Tom Nagles, sir, is me name,
and who comes after is the same."
He always was called by us boys " John Tom Nagles, sir,"
thenceforward. He certainly was the rawest specimen I ever
met.
OLD NAGLES.
THi) PALL OF KAGLE8.
287
One day the old man was wheeling wood on board a vessel.
It was at low water, and there was a distance of sixteen feet
from the plank to the bottom of the vessel's hold. The poor
old fellow, by some mishap or neglect, let go the barrow,
when he called, " Stand ferninst, there, below ! " when wood,
barrow, and old Mr. Nagles, all went down together. By
the fall he broke his neck.
never
shall
o
forget the
awful
THE NAGLES BOYS.
lamentation set up by the combined voices of the poor old
woman, John Tom, Tom John, and Mary, as they followed
the corpse, borne on a wagon, past our house, on the way
from the vessel to the Nagles' residence.
On the following day great preparations were made to
" wake " the old gentleman according to the most approved
fashion in the old country. There were many Irish living —
staying^ at least — in that town, and large quantities of
pipes, tobacco, and whiskey were bought up, and the whole
18
288 THE WAKE.
town knew that a *' powerful time " was anticipated by the
Irish who were invited to old Nagles' wake. It was an un-
usual occurrence, and several boys and young men of the
village went to the locality of the Nagles* house to get a look
upon the scene when it got under full pressure. I certainly
CHIEF MOURNERS.
should have been there had not my parents forbidden me to
go, and I regret the inability to give my personal testimony
to the truth of the statement of what followed, as I do to
what preceded, as related above.
" When the wake was at its height, the room full of tobac-
co smoke, and the jovial mourners full of Irish whiskey, —
strychnine and fusel oil, — there was an alarm of fire iu the
A STAMPEDE, 289
neighborhood. There was a grand rush from the room, as
well as from the windows where stood the listeners, and only
one old and drunken woman remained to watch the corpse.
The door was left open, and some of the young men outside,
thinking it a good opportunity to play a joke on the drunken
party, ran into the room, and, seeing only the old woman,
who was too drunk to offer any objections, they removed
the body from the board, depositing it behind the boxes on
which the board was laid, and one of their number took the
place of the corpse, barely having time to draw the sheet
over his face, when the * wakers ' returned.
" The candles burned dimly through the hazy atmosphere
of the old room, and no one noticed the change. The pipes
were relighted, the whiskey freely passed, and finally one
fellow proposed to offer the corpse a lighted pipe and a glass
of whiskey, *for company's sake, through purgatory.*
" Suiting the action to the word, he approached, attempted
to raise the head of the ' lively corpse,* and thrust the nasty
pipe between his teeth.
" The young man ' playing corpse ' was no smoker, and in
infinite disgust he motioned the fellow away, who, too drunk
to notice it, stuck the pipe in his face, saying, ^Here, ould
man, take a shmoke for your ghost's sake.'
" * Bah ! Git away wid the div'lish nasty thing,' exclaimed
the young man, rising and sitting up in the coffin.
" There was an instantaneous stampede from the room of
every waker who was capable of rising to his legs, followed
by the fellow in the sheet, who, dropping the ghostly cov-
ering at the door, mingled with the rabble, and w^as not
recognized. The priest and the doctor were speedily sum-
moned. The former arrived, heard, outside the house, the
wonderful story, and then proceeded to lay the spirit by
sprinkling holy water on the door-stone, thence into the
room. By this time the smoke had sufficiently subsided to
allow a view of the room, when the stiff, frigid body of old
290
WOULD NOT SMOKE.
Nagles was discovered on the floor, where *it had fallen,' as
they siijDposed, 'hi attempting to walk.' Of course the
doctor ridiculed the idea of a stark, cold body rising and
A CORPSE THAT WOULD NOT SMOKE.
speaking ; but the Irish, to this day, believe old Nagles, for
that once, refused a pipe and a glass of whiskey. The few
young men dared not divulge the secret, and it never leaked
out till the entire family of Nagles had gone to parts un-
known."
I find a great many ghost stories in books, which are not
explained ; but since the writer knows nothing of their au-
thenticity, nor the persons with whom they were connected,
they are unworthy of notice here.
BYRON'S GHOST. 291
The Ghost of C^sar at Philippi.
Dr. Robert Macnish, of Glasgow, in his " Philosophy of
Sleep," says, " No doubt the apparition of Caesar which ap-
peared to Brutus, and declared it would meet him at Phi-
lippi, was either a dream or a spectral illusion — probably
the latter. Brutus, in all likelihood, had some idea that the
great battle which was to decide his fate would be fought at
Philippi. Probably it was a good military position, which
hd had in his mind fixed upon as a fit place to make a final
stand ; and he had done enough to Caesar to account for his
mind being painfully and constantly engrossed with the
image of the assassinated dictator. Hence the verification
of this supposed v»^arning ; hence the easy explanation of a
supposed supernatural event."
"The ghost of Byron" may help to verify the above.
Sir Walter Scott was engaged in his study at Abbotsford,
not long after the death of Lord Byron, at about the twilight
hour, in reading a sketch of the deceased poet. The room
was quiet, his thoughts w^ere intensely centred upon the
person of his departed friend, when, as he laid down the
volume, as he could see to read no longer, and passed, into
the hall, he saw before him the eidolon of the deceased poet.
He remained for some time impressed by the intensity of the
illusion, which had thus created a phantom out of some
clothes hano^ino: on a screen at the farther end of the hall."
This is not the first time that Byron had appeared to his
friends, as the following, from his own pen, wuU show : —
Byron wrote to his friend, Alexander Murray, less than
two years before the death of the latter, as follows : —
"In 1811, my old schoolmate and form-fellow, Robert
Peel, the Irish' secretary, told me that he saw me in St.
James Street. I was then in Turkey. A day or two after-
wards, he pointed out to his brother a person across the
292 A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.
street, and said, ' There is the man I took for Byron.' His
brother answered, * Why, it is Byron, and no one else.' I
was at this time seen (by them?) to write my name in the
Palace Book ! I was then ill of a malaria fever. If I had
died," adds Byron, "here would have been a ghost story
established."
Dr. Johnson says, "An honest old printer named Edward
Cave had seen a ghost at St. John's Gate." Of course, the
old man succumbed to the apparition.
The Ghost of Conscience.
I have yet to find the record of a good man seeing what
he believed to be a ghostly manifestation. It is only the
guilty in conscience who conjure up "horrible shadows," as
pictured in Shakspeare's ghost of Banquo, as it aj^peared to
Macbeth. What deserving scorn, what scathing contempt,
were conveyed in the language of Lady Macbeth to her cow-
ardly, conscience-stricken lord, as she thus rebuked him ! —
" O, proper stuff !
This is the very painting of your fear;
This is the air-drawn dagger whicli you said
Led you to Duncan ! O, these flaws and starts
(Impostors to true fear) would well become
A woman's story at a winter's fire,*
Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!
When all's done,
You look but on a stool ! ** ^
There is a great truth embodied in a portion of the king's
reply, that —
" If charnel-houses and our graves must send
Those that we bury, back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites."
The gay and dissipated Thomas Lyttleton, son of Lord
George Lyttleton, and his successor in the i^eerage, has been
* This illustrates our " Origin of Ghosts."
A GHOSTLY WARNING.
293
the subject of "a well-authenticated ghost story, which re-
lates that he was warned of his death three days before it
happened, in 1779, while he was in a state of perfect health,
and only thirty-five years of age." This is what says a biog-
rapher. Now let us present the truth of the matter.
He was a dissipated man. He was subject to fits. A
gentleman present at the time of his seeing a vision, says
" that he had been attacked several times by suffocative fits
the month before." Here, then, was a body diseased. The
same authority says, "It happened that he dreamed, three
days before his death, that he saw a fluttering bird; and
afterwards, that he saw (dreamed) a woman in white apparel,
who said to him, 'Prepare to die; you will not exist three
days.'
PREPARE TO DIE!
**His lordship was much alarmed, and called his servant,
who slept in an adjoining closet, who found his master in a
state of great agitation, and in a profuse perspiration."
Fear blanches the cheek ; perspiration is rather a symptom
of bodily weakness, and the result of a laborious dream, or
even a fit. He had no fear, for, on the third day, while his
lordship was at breakfast with "the two Misses Amphlett,
Lord Fortescue," and the narrator, he said, lightly, —
"'If I live over to-night, I shall have jockeyed the ghost,
294 STRANGLED.
for this is the third day.* That day he had another fit. He
dined at five, and retired at eleven, when his servant was
about to give him some prescribed rhubarb and mint-water,
but his lordship, seeing him about to stir the mixture with
a toothpick, exclaimed, —
"* You slovenly dog, go and fetch a teaspoon.'
"On the servant's return, he found his master in another
fit, and, the pillow being high, his chin bore on his wind-
pipe, when the servant, instead of relieving his lordship
from his perilous position, ran away for help ; but on his
return, found his master dead."
He had strangled. Is it anything strange that a dissi-
pated, weakened man should die after having a score of suf-
focative fits? It had been more surprising if he had sur-
vived them. Then, as respecting the dream, it was the
result of a " mind diseased."
There was evidence that his lordship had seduced the
Misses Amphlett, and prevailed upon them to leave their
mother; and he is said to have admitted, before his death,
that the woman seen in his dream was the mother of the
unfortunate girls, and that she died of grief, through the
disgrace and desertion of her children, about the time that
the guilty seducer saw her in the vision. How could his
dreams but have been disturbed, with the load of guilt and
remorse that he ought to have had resting upon his con-
science ? The " flutterinsr bird " was the first form that the
wretched mother assumed in his vision, as a bird might flut-
ter about the prison bars that confined her darling ofi'spring.
The more natural form of the mother finally appeared to the
guilty seducer, and to dream that he heard a voice is no un-
usual occurrence in the life of any person. The peculiar
words amount to nothing. Lyttleton gave them no serious
thoughts, and it was an accident of bodily position that
caused his sudden death. The whole thing seems to be too
ilimsy for even a respectable " ghost story."
"WHO ARE YOU?
295
The Bishop sees a Ghost!
An amusing as well as instructive ghost story is related
by Horace Walpole, the indolent, luxurious satirist of fash-
ionable and political contemporaries, whose twenty thousand
a year enabled him to live at his ease, " coquetting haughtily
with literature and literary men, at his tasty Gothic toy-
house at Strawberry Hill."
He relates that the good old Bishop of Chichester was
awakened in his palace at an early hour in the morning by
his chamber door opening, when a female figure, clothed in
THE BISHOP'S GHOSTLY VISITOR,
white, softly entered the apartment, and quietly took a seat
near him. The prelate, who, with "his household, was a
disbeliever in ghosts" and spirits, said he was not at all
frightened, but, rising in his bed, said, in a tone of author-
ity, —
"'Who are you?"
"The presence Jn the room" made no reply. The bishop
repeated the question, —
296 MUSICAL GHOSTS.
*^ Who are you?"
The ghost only heaved a deep sigh, and, while the bishop
rang the bell, to call his slumbering servant, her ghostship
quietly drew some old " papers from its ghost of a pocket,'*
and commenced reading them to herself.
After the bishop had kept on ringing for the stupid ser-
vant, the form arose, thrust the papers out of sight, and left
as noiselessly and sedately as she had arrived.
"Well, what have you seen?" asked the bishop, when the
servants were aroused.
"Seen, my lord?"
" Ay, seen ! or who — what w^as the woman who has been
here?"
"Woman, my lord?"
(It is said one of the fellows smiled, that a woman should
have been in the aged bishop's bed-chamber in the night.)
When the bishop had related what he had seen, the do-
mestics apprehended that his lordship had been dreaming,
against which the good man protested, and only told what
his eyes had beheld. The story that the bishop had been
visited by a ghost* soon got well circulated, which greatly
"diverted the ungodly, at the good prelate's expense, till
finally it reached the ears of the keeper of a mad-house in
the diocese, who came and deposed that a female lunatic had
escaped from his custody on that night" (in light apparel),
who, finding the gates and doors of the i)alace open, had
marched directly to his lordship's chamber. The deponent
further stated that the lunatic was always reading a bundle
of papers,
"There are known," says Walpole, "stories of ghosts,
solemnly authenticated, less credible ; and I hope you will
believe this, attested by the father of our own church."
Musical Ghosts.
We occasionally hear of this kind, but seldom, if ever, see
them. An old lady of Adams, Mass., came to the writer in
A BEWITCHED PIANO. 297
a state bordering on monomania. She stated that at about
three o'clock in the night she would awake and distinctly hear
bells ringhig at a distance. She would awake her husband,
and often compel him to arise and listen " till the poor man
was almost out of patience with the annoyance ; " not of the
bells, for he heard none, but of being continually " wakened
because of her whim," as he stated. A brief medical treat-
ment for the disease which caused the vibration of the tym-
panum dispelled the illusion of bells.
The Piano-forte Ghost.
A family residing, three years since, but a few miles out
of Boston, used to occasionally, during summer only, hear
a note or two of the piano strike at the dead hour of the
night. A Catholic servant girl and an excellent cook left
their situations in consequence of the ghostly music. In
vain the family removed the instrument to another position
in the room. The musical sounds would startle them from
their midnight slumbers.
One thing very remarkable occurred after changing the
l^iano : the sound, which only transpired occasionally, with
no regularity as to time, would always begin with the high
notes, and end with the lower. Finally, the family — I can-
not say why — removed to the city, and the house was sold.
The deed of conveyance did not include the ghost, but he
remained with the premises, nevertheless. The writer has
seen him !
" O, what a pretty cat ! " exclaimed a child of the new
occupant of the haunted house, on discovering the domestic
animal which the late possessor had left.
" Yes ; and she looks so very domestic and knowing, she
may stay, if no one comes for her, and you'll have her for a
playfellow," replied the mother.
A few nights after their settlement, the new family were
startled by hearing the piano sound ! No particular tune, but
298 A HAUNTED HOUSE.
it was surely the piano notes that had been distinctly and
repeatedly heard. A search revealed nothing. The piano
was kept closed thereafter, and no further annoyance oc-
curred, until one night when the company had lingered till
nearly midnight, and the instrument had been left open, the
sound again occurred. The gentleman quickly lighted a
lamp, ran down stairs, and closing the door leading to the
connecting room, he found the cat secreted beneath the
piano. The instrument was purposely left open the follow-
ing night, and a watch set, when, no sooner was all quiet,
than the cat entered, and leaped upon the piano keys. After
touching them a few times with her fore paws, she jumped
down, and hid beneath the instrument. "The cat was out."
Only one thing remained for explanation, viz., why the
change of sound occurred after removing the piano by the
first occupants of the house. It occurred in summer.
They removed the piano so that the cat, entering a side win-
dow, usually left a little raised, had necessarily jumped upon
the high keys.
If anybody has got a good ghost, spirit, or witch about
his premises, the writer would like to investigate it.
The following silly item is just going the rounds" of the
press : —
"A HAUNTED House.
"The first floor of Mrs. Roundy's house, at Lynn, in which
the recent murder occurred, is occupied by an apparently
intelligent family bearing the name of Conway, who assert
that they have heard supernatural noises every night since
the tragedy ; and they are so sincere in their belief that they
are preparing to vacate in favor of their ' uncanny ' visitors."
There's nothing to it to investigate.
A FEW Words about Witches.
My colored boy, Dennis, assures me that an old woman
in Norfolk, Va., having some spite against him, "did
"V
A
THE MUSICAL PUSS.
A DARKEY BEWITCHED.
WITCHES. 301
something to him that sort o' bewitched him ; got some ani-
mal into him, like." The symptoms are those of ascarides,
but I could not persuade him to take medicine therefor.
"Tain't no use, sir," he replied, solemnly ; "I knowed she
done it ; I feels it kinder work in' in yer (placing his hand
on his stomach) ; what med'cine neber'U reach."
Neither reason nor ridicule will " budge " him. He knows
he's bewitched !
Witches in the Cream.
Through all the long, long winter's day,
And half the dreary night*
We churned, and yet no butter came :
The cream looked thin and white.
Next morning, with our hopes renewed,
The task began again ;
We churned, and churned, till back and arms
And head did ache with pain.
The cream rose up, then sulking fell.
Grew thick, and then grew thin ;
It splashed and spattered ia our eyes,
On clothes, and nose, and chin.
We churned it fast, and churned it slow,
And stirred it round and round ;
Yet all the livelong, weary day.
Was heard the dasher's sound.
The sun sank in the gloomy west,
The moon rose ghastly pale ;
And still we churned, with courage low,
And hopes about to fail, —
When in walked Granny Dean, who heard.
With wonder and amaze,
302 HORSE-SHOES.
Our troubles, as she crossed herself,
And in the fire did gaze.
'*Lord, help us all ! " she quickly said,
And covered up her face ;
" Lord, help us all ! for, as you live.
There's witches in the place !
'* There's witches here within this churn,
That have possessed the cream.
Go, bring the horse-shoe that I saw
Hang on the cellar-beam."
The shoe was brought, when, round and round.
She twirled it o'er her head ;
" Go, drive the witches from that cream I "
In solemn voice she said ; —
Then tossed it in the fire, till red
With heat it soon did turn,
And dropped among the witches dread.
That hid within the churn.
Once more the dasher's sound was heard, —
Have patience with my rhyme, —
For, sure enough, the butter came
In twenty minutes' time.
Some say the temperature was changed
With horse-shoe glowing red ;
But when we ask old Granny Dean,
She only shakes her head. — Hearth and Home.
Horse-shoes.
One would suppose the folly of putting horse-shoes into
cream, "fish-skins into coffee, to settle it," and forcing filthy
molasses and water down the throats of new-born babes,
were amongst the follies of the past ; but they are not yet,
A DRY JOKER.
303
with many other superstitious, and even cruel and dangerous
notions, done away with. For some prominent instances of
this course of proceedings the reader may consult next
chapter.
Riding through the rural districts of almost any portion
of the Union, one will sometimes find the horse-shoe nailed
over the stable, porch, or even house front door, to keep
away the witches. As in Gay's fable of " The Old Woman
and her Cats : " —
" Straws laid across my path retard,
The horse-shoes nailed each threshold guard,'*
In Aubrey's time, he tells us that " most houses of the
west end of London have the horse-shoe at the threshold."
The nice little old gentleman who keeps the depot at
Boylston Station is a dry joker, in his way. Over each
door of the station he has
an old horse-shoe nailed.
"What have you got
these nailed up over the
door for?" a stranger
asks.
" To keep away witches.
I sleep here nights," sol-
emnly replies the station-
master; and one must be
familiar with that ever
agreeable face to detect the sly, enjoyable humor with
which he is so often led to repeat this assertion.
In numerous towns within more than half of the states, —
I state from personal inquiry, — there are at this day old
women, who children, at least, are taught to believe have
the power of bewitching ! My first fright, when a little boy
on my way to school, was from being told that an old wo-
man, whose house we were passing, was a witch.
BOYLSTON STATION.
304 THE WITCH OF ENDOR.
These modern witches may not have arrived at the dignity
of floating through the air on a broomstick, or crossing the
water in a cockle-shell, as the}^ were said to in ancient times ;
but the belief in their existence at this enlightened period
of the world is more disgraceful than in the darker ages,
and the frightening of children and the naturally supersti-
tious is far more reprehensible.
There is no such thing as a ghost. There are no witches.
" The Bible teaches that there were witches," has often
been wrongly asserted. That "choice young man and
goodly," whose abilities his doting parent over-estimated
when he sent him out in search of the -three stray asses, and
whose idleness prompted him to consult the seer Samuel,
and by whose indolence and iDrocrastination the asses got
home first, was a very suitable personage to consult a " wo-
man of a familiar spirit " (or any other woman, save his
own wife), from which arose the great modern misnomer of
the " Witch of Endorr
** To the Jewish writers, trained to seek counsel only of
Jehovah (not even from Christ), the * Woman of Endor'
was a dealer with spirits of evil. With us, who have im-
bibed truth through a thousand channels made turbid by
prejudice and error, she is become a distorted being, allied
to the hags of a wild and fatal delusion. We confound her
with the (fabled) witches of Macbeth, the victims of Salem,
and the modern Moll Pitchers.
*' The Woman of Endor ! That is a strange perversion of
taste that would represent her in hideous aspect. To me
she seemeth all that is genial and lovely in womanhood."
" Hearken thou unto the voice of thine handmaid, and
let me set a morsel of bread before thee, and eat, that thou
may est have strength when thou goest on thy way." *
Then she made and baked the bread, killed and cooked
the meat, — all she had iu the house, — and Saul did eat,
and his servants.
FLESH VS. SCRIPTURES.
305
I see nought iii this but an exhibition of rare domestic
ability and commendable hospitality ; in the previous act
(revelation), nothing more than a manifestation of the power
WEIGHING A WITCH BY BIBLE STANDARD.
of mind over mind (possibly the power of God, manifested
through her mind ?) , wherein she divined the object of Saul's
visit, and, through the same channel, surmised who he was
that consulted her.
Witches are said to be " light weight." But a little above
19
306
A PICTURE.
a hundred years ago, a woman was accused in Wingrove,
England, by another, of "bewitching her spinning-wheel, so
it would turn neither the one way nor the other.'' To this she
took oath, and the magistrate, with pomp and dignity, "fol-
lowed by a great concourse of people, took the woman to
the parish church, her husband also being present, and hav-
ing stripped the accused to her nether garment, put her into
the great scales brought for that purpose, with the Bible in
the opposite balance, which was the lawful test of a witch,
when, to the no small astonishment and mortification of her
maligner, she actually outweighed the book, and was honor-
ably acquitted of the charge ! "
Just imagine the picture. In an enlightened age, a Chris-
tian people, in possession of the Bible, that gives no intima-
tion of such things as witches, stripping and weighing a
female in public, to ascertain if she really was heavier than
a common Bible !
XII.
MEDICAL SUPERSTITIONS.
"When cats run homo, and light is come,
And dew is cold upon the ground,
And the far-off stream is dumb,
And the whirling sail goes round,
And the whirling sail goes round ;
Alone and warming his five wits
The white owl in the belfry sits." —Tennyson.
OLD AND NEW. — THE SIGN OF JUPITER. — MODERN IDOLATRY. — ORIGIN OP
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK. — HOW WE PERPETUATE IDOLATRY. — SINGULAR
FACT. — CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES. *' OLD NICK." — RIDICULOUS SUPERSTI-
TIONS. — 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 LIGHT-
NING. — A KISS.
Medicine, above all the other sciences, was founded upon
superstition. Medicine, more than all the other arts, has
been practised by superstitions. Stretching far back
through the vista of time to the remotest antiquity, reach-
ing forward into the more enlightened present, it has par-
taken of all that was superstitious in barbarism, in heathen-
ism, in mythology, and in religion.
In showing the Alpha I am compelled to reveal the
Omega.
Let us begin with Jupiter. I know that some wise tEscu-
lapian — no Jupiterite — will turn up his nose at this page,
while to-morrow, if he gets a patient, he will demonstrate
(307)
308 , ANCIENT SUPERSTITIONS.
what I am saying, and further, help to perpetuate the igno-
rant absurdities which originated with the old mjthologists,
by placing "R" — the ill-drawn sign of
Jupiter — before his recipe.
De Paris tells us that the physician of
the present day continues to prefix to
his prescriptions the letter "B:," which is
generally supposed to mean "recipe,"
but which is, in truth, a relic of the
THE GOD OF RECIPES, ^strological symbol of Jupiter, formerly
used as a species of superstitious invo-
cation, or to propitiate the king of the gods that the com-
pound might act favorably.
There are still in use many other things which present
.prima fade evidence of having been introduced when the
users placed more faith in mythological or planetary influ-
ence than in any innate virtue of the article itself. For in-
stance, at a very early period all diseases were regarded as
the eifects of certain planetary actions ; and not only
diseases, but our lives, fortunes, conduct, and the various
qualities that constitute one's character, were the conse-
quences of certain planetary control under which we existed.
Are there not many who now believe this?
" In ancient medicine pharmacy was at one period only the
application of the dreams of astrology to the vegetable
world. The herb which put an ague or madness to flight did
so by reason of a mystic power imparted to it by a partic-
ular constellation, the outward signs of which quality were
to be found in its color or shape." Red objects had a mys-
terious influence on inflammatory diseases, and yellow ones
on persons discolored by jaundice. Corals were introduced
as a medicine, also to wear about the neck on the same prin-
ciple.
These notions are not yet obsolete. Certain diseases are
still attributed to the action of the moon. Certain yellow
MODERN IDOLATRIES. 309
herbs are used for the jaundice and other diseases. The
liejpaiica triloba (three-lobed) is recommended for diseases
of the lungs as well as liver (as its first name, hepatica,
indicates), and some other medicines for other complaints,
without the least regard to their innate qualities. Corals are
still worn for nose-bleed, red articles kept about the bed and
apartments of the small-pox patient, and the red flag hung
out at the door of the house, though few may know why a
red flag is so hung, or that it originated in superstition.
The announcement of an approaching comet strikes terror
to the hearts of thousands ; the invalid has the sash raised
that he may avoid first seeing the new moon through the
glass, and the traveller is rejoiced to catch his first glimpse
of the young queen of the night over his right Shoulder,
" for there is misfortune in seeing it over the left."
But we are not yet done with ancient symbols.
" The stick came down from heaven," says the Egyptian
proverb.
"The physician's cane is a very ancient part of his insig-
nia. It has nearly gone into disuse ; but until very recently
no doctor of medicine would have presumed to pay a visit,
or even be seen in public, without this mystic wand. Long
as a footman's stick, smooth, and varnished, with a heavy
gold head, or a cross-bar, it was an instrument with which,
down to the present century, every prudent aspirant to medi-
cal practice was provided. The celebrated gold-headed
cane which Eadclifle, Mead, Askew, Pitcairn, and Baillie
successively bore, is preserved in the College of Physicians,
London. It has a cross-bar, almost like a crook, in place of
a knob. The knob in olden times was hollow, and contained
a vinaigrette, which the man of science held to his nose
when he approached a sick person, so that its fumes might
protect him from the disease."
The cane, doubtless, came from the wand or caduceus of
Mercurius, and was a " relic of the conjuring paraphernalia
310
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK.
with which the healer, in ignorant and superstitious times,
always worked upon the imagination of the credulous."
The present barber's pole originated with surgeons. The
red stripe represented the arterial blood ; the blue, the ve-
nous blood ; the white, the bandages.
The superstitious ancients showed more wisdom in their
selections of names, as well as in emblems, than we do in
retaining them. Heathen wor-
shij) and mythological signs are
mixed and interwoven with all our
arts, sciences, and literature. Our
days of the week were named by
the old Saxons, who w^orshipj^ed
idols — the sun, moon, stars,
earth, etc., and to their god's,
perpetual honor gave to each day
a name from some principal deity.
Thus we are idolaters, daily,
though unconsciously.
I think not one person in a
thousand is aware of this fact;
therefore I give a sketch of each.
Sunday.
The name of our first day of
the week, Sunday, is derived
from the Saxon Sunna-doeg,
which they named for the sun.
It was also called Sun^s-doeg,
As the glorious sunlight brought
day and warmth, and caused vege-
tation to spring forth in its sea-
son, warmed the blood, and made the heart of man to re-
joice, they made that dazzling orb the primary .object of
their worship. When its absence brought night and dark-
SUN — Sunday.
SUNDAY. 311
ness, aud the storm-clcMids shrouded its face in gloom, or the
occasional eclipse suddenly cut off its shining, which they
superstitiously attributed to the wrath of their chief deity,
it then became the object of their supplication. With them,
and all superstitious people, all passions, themes, and wor-
ships must be embodied — must assume form and dimensions,
and as they could not gaze upon the dazzling sun, they per-
sonified it in the figure of a man — as being superior to
woman with them — arrayed in a primitive garment, holding
in his hand a flaming wheel. One day was specially devoted
to sun worship.
The modern Sunday is the day, according to historical ac-
counts of the early Christians, on which Christ rose from the
dead. It does not appear to have been the same day as, or
to have superseded, the Jewish Sabbath, although the Chris-
tians early celebrated the day, devoting it to religious ser-<
vices. With the Christians, labor was suspended on this
" first day of the week," and Constantine, about the year 320,
established an edict which suspended all labor, except agri-
cultural, and forbade also all court proceedings. In 538
A. D. the third Council of Orleans published a decree for-
bidding all labor on Sunday.
The Sabbath (Hebrew Shahhath) of the Jews, meaning
a day of rest, originated as fiir back as Moses — probably
farther. It was merely a day of rest, which was commanded
by Jehovah ; and if considered only on physiological
grounds, it evinces the wisdom and economy of God in set-
ting apart one day in seven to be observed by man as a sea-
son of rest and recuperation. As such it only seems to
have been regarded till after the forty years of exile, when
it changed to a day of religious rites and ceremonies, which
is continued till the present day by "that peculiar people."
That particular day, given in the " law of Moses," corre-
sponds — it is believed by the Jews — to our Saturday.
Christ seemed to teach that the Jewish Sabbath was no more
312 MONDAY.
sacred than any other day, and he accused the Pharisees with
hypocrisy in their too formal observance thereof. He at-
tended their service on the Sabbath, on the seeming princi-
ple that he did other meetings, and as he paid the accustomed
tax, because it was best to adapt one's self to the laws and
customs of the country.
We do not purpose to enter into any theological discussion
as to which of the two days should be observed for rest and
religious observances; for who shall decide? Physiologically
considered, it makes no difference. There should be one
day set apart for rest in seven at the most, and all men
should respect it.
Without a Sabbath (day of rest) we should soon relapse
into a state of barbarism, and also wear out before our
allotted time. "In the hurry and bustle of every-day life
and labor, we allow ourselves too little relaxation, too little
scope for moral, social, and religious sentiments; therefore
it is well to set apart times and seasons when all cares and
labors may be laid aside, and communion held with nature
and nature's God." And it were better if we all could agree
upon one day for our Sabbath ; and let us call it " Sabbath,"
and not help to perpetuate any heathen dogmas and worship
by calling God's holy day after the idolatrous customs of the
ancient Saxons.
Monday.
The second day of the week the Saxons called Monan-
dceg, or Moon's day ; hence our Monday.
This day was set apart by that idolatrous people for the
worship of their second god in power. In their business
pursuits, as well as devotional exercises, they devoted them-
selves to the moon worship. The name MonandcBg was
written at the top of all communications, and remembrance
had to their god in all transactions of the day. Each monath
(new moon or month) religious (?) exercises were cele-
brated.
TUESDAY.
313
The idol Monandaeg had the semblance of a female,
crowned or capped with a hood-like covering, surmounted
by two horns, while a basque and long robe covered the re-
mainder of her person. In her right hand she held the
image of the moon.
MOON — Monday.
TUl SCO — Tuesday.
Tuesday.
The third object of their worship was Tuisco — corre-
sponding with German Tuisto — the son of Terra (earth),
314
WEDNESDAY.
the deified founder of the Teutonic race. He seems to have
been the deity who presided over combats and litigations ;
"hence Tuesday is now, as then, court-day, or the day for
commencing litigations." In some dialects it was called
Dings-dag, or Things-day — to plead, attempt, cheapen:
hence it is often selected as market-day, as well as a time
for opening assizes. Hence the god Tuisco was worshipped
in the semblance of a vener-
able sage, with uncovered
head, clothed in skins of fierce
animals, touching the earth,
while he held in his right hand
a sceptre, the appropriate en-
sign of his authority.
Thus originated the name
of our third day of the week,
and some of its customs.
Wednesday.
This day w^as named for
Woden, — the same as Odin,
— and was sacred to the di-
vinity of the Northern and
Eastern nations. He was the
Anglo-Saxons' god of war,
" who came to them from the
East in a very mysterious man-
ner, and enacted more wonder-
ful and brilliant exploits of
prowess and valor than the
Greek mythologists ascribed
to their powerful god Her-
cules." As Odin, this deity
was said to have been a mon-
arch (in the flesh) of ancient
WODEN — Wednesday.
WODEN.
315
Germany, Denmark, Scandinavia, etc., and a mighty con-
queror. All those tribes, in going into battle, invoked his
aid and blessing upon their arms. He was idolized as a
fierce and powerful man, with helmet, shield, a drawn
sword, a gyrdan about his loins, and feet and legs protected
THOR — Thursday. FR I GA — Friday.
by sandals and knee-high fastenings of iron, ornamented with
a death's head.
316
THURSDAY AND FRIDAY.
Thursday.
From the deity Thor our Thursday is derived. This
Saxon god was the son of Woden, or Odin, and his wife
Friga. He was the god of thunder, the bravest and most
powerful, after his father, of the Danish and Saxon deities.
Thor is represented as sitting in majestic grandeur upon
a golden throne, his head surmounted by a golden crown,
richly ornamented by a circle in front, in which were set
twelve brilliant stars. In his
right hand he grasped the regal
sceptre.
Friday.
The sixth day of the week
was named in honor of Friga ^
or Frigga, the wife of Woden
and the mother of Thor. In
most ancient times she was the
same as Venus, the goddess of
Hertha, or Earth. She was the
most revered of the female di-
vinities of the Danes and Sax-
ons. Friga is represented
draped in a light robe sus-
pended from the shoulder, low
neck and bare arms. She held
in her right hand a drawn
sword, and a long bow in the
left. Her hair is long and
flowing, while a golden band,
adorned by ostrich feathers,
encircle her snowy brow.
There is nothing in the
name or attributes to indicate
the ill luck which superstition
has attached to the day.
SEATER— Saturday.
SEATER — SATURDAY. 317
Saturday.
The god 8eater, for whom the last day of the week is
named, is the same as Saturn, which is from Greek — Time,
He is pictured, unlike Saturn, with long, flowing hair and
beard, thin features, clothed in person with one entire gar-
ment to his ankles and wrists, Avith his waist girded by a
linen scarf. In his right hand he carries a wheel, to repre-
sent rolling time. In his left hand he holds a pail of fruit
and flowers, to indicate young time as well as old. The fish
which is his pedestal represents his power over the abun-
dance of even the sea.
Christmas Festivals.
Amongst the very pleasant and harmless customs which
have been handed down to us from the idolatrous rites and
superstitions of the ancient Saxons, Scandinavians, etc., are
those connected with our Christmas festivities. The whole
observance and connections form a stransre mixture of Chris-
tian and heathen ceremonies, illustrative of the unwilling-
ness with which a people abandon pagan rites to the
adoption of those more consistent with the spirit of a
Christianized and enlightened faith.
Now, little folks and big, 1 am not going to ridicule or
deny your right to Christmas and St. Nicholas enjoy-
ments ; I will merely hint at their origin, for your own
benefit. The day brings more happiness — and folks —
to the homes and firesides of the people of the whole world
than any other holiday we celebrate.* Thanksgiving,
you know, is mostly a New England custom. The 25th of
December is just as good as any other day on which to have
a good time. Ancient people used to celebrate the first and
* An Irishman, who was once asked why the parents of Christ were obliged
to lodge in a stable on the night of the Saviour's birth, replied, " And weren't
the inns full of the crowd, who had gone up before to celebrate Christmas ? '*
318 SAINT NICHOLAS.
sixth of January. The first three months of the year are
named after heathen gods.
The name of the day we celebrate is derived from a Chris-
tian source : the rest from pagan. A good feeling was al-
ways engendered amongst the most ancient people at the
commencement of the lengthening of days in winter, and
the approach of a new year. The hanging up of the mistle-
toe, with the ceremony of gathering it, the kindling of the
Yule log, and giving of presents, we trace to the Druids,
who were the priests, doctors, and judges of the ancient
Celts, Gauls, Britons, and Germans. Our modern stoves
and furnaces have shut out the pleasant old log fires, and
the candles only remain. The gifts originated in the giving
away of pieces of the mistletoe by the grizzly old priests.
Who St. Nicholas was, is only conjectured, not hiown,
any more than who St. Patrick was. It makes no difier-
ence Avhere he sprang from; he is a good, jolly, benevolent
fellow, who brings lots of presents, and, with the little folks,
we are bound to defend him.
It is supposed that the original St. Nicholas lived in Lycia,
in Asia Minor, during the fourth century, and was early
adopted as a saint of the Catholic church, and also by the
Russians and ancient Germans, Celts, and others.
*'He has ever been regarded as a very charitable person-
age, and as the particular guardian of children. Great
stories are told of his charity and benevolence. One of
these, and that, perhaps, which attaches him to the peculiar
festivities of Christmas, is to the effect that a certain noble-
man had three lovely daughters, but was so reduced to pov-
erty that he was unable to give them a marriage portion, as
was the indispensable custom, and was about to give them
over to a life of shame. St. Nicholas was aware of this,
and determined in a secret way to assist the nobleman.
" He wended his way towards the nobleman*s house, think-
ing how he could best do this, when he espied an open win-
POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS. 319
dow, into which he threw a purse of gold, which dropped
at tlie nobleman's feet, and he was enabled to give his daugh-
ter a marriage portion. This was repeated upon the second
daughter and the third daughter; but the nobleman, being
upon the watch, detected his generous benefactor, and thus
the affair was made public. From this rose the custom upon
St. Nicholas Day, December 6, for parents and friends to
secretly put little presents into the stockings of the chil-
dren. Doubtless this custom, so near the festivities of
Christmas, gradually approximated to that day, and be-
come identical with Christmas festivities throughout the
world. St. Nicholas is often represented bearing three
purses, or golden balls, and these form the -pawn-broker's
well-known sign, which is traced to this source as its ori-
gin — not, we should judge, from their resemblance to the
charity of St. Nicholas, but emblematic of his lending in
time of need."
Popular Notions and Whims.
There was a superstition in Scotland against spinning or
ploughing on Christmas ; but the Calvinistic clergy, in con-
tempt for all such superstitions, compelled their wives and
daughters to spin, and their tenants to plough, on thjit
day.
It is a popular notion to the present time in Devon-
shire that if the sun shines bright at noon on Christmas
day, there will be a plentiful crop of apples the following
year.
Bees were thought to sing in their hives on Christmas
eve, and it was believed that bread baked then would never
mould.
So prevalent was the idea that all nature unites in celebrat-
ing the great event of Christ's birth, that it w^as a well re-
ceived opinion in some sections of the old world that the
cattle fell on their knees at midnight on Christmas eve.
320 THE ENCHANTER, MERLIN.
Ridiculous Superstitions.
" Merlin ! Merlin ! turn again ;
Leave the oak-branch where it grew.
Seek no more the cress to gain,
Nor the herb of golden hue."
Merlin, the reputed great euchanter, flourished in Britain
about the fifth century. He is said to have resided in great
pomp at the court of " Good King Arthur." You all know
the beautiful rhyme about the latter, if not about " Merlin I
Merlin!" etc.
" When good King Arthur ruled the land, —
He was a goodly king, —
He stole three pecks of barley-meal
To make a bag pudding."
Sublime poetry ! Easy mode of obtaining the barley-meal
(or Scotch territory). Merlin attached many superstitious
beliefs to some of our medicinal plants. The "cress " is sup-
posed to be the mistletoe. "The herb of gold" — golden
herb — was a rare plant, held in great esteem by the peas-
ant women of Brittany, who affirmed that it shone like gold
at a distance. It must be gathered by or before daybreak.
The most ridiculous part of the affair was in the searching
for the "herb of golden hue." None but devout females,
blessed by the priests for the occasion, were permitted the
great privilege of gathering it. In order to be successful in
the search, the privileged person started before daylight,
barefooted, bareheaded, and en chemise. (Of course the
priest knew the individual, and when she was going.) The
root must not be cut or broken, but pulled up entire. If
any one trod upon the 
