used to mount a stage on Tower Hill and Covent Garden Market alternately,
in order, as he said, that both ends of London might profit by his
experience and skill. It is said that on one of these occasions, when he
had induced an old woman to mount his stage in the latter place, and
relate the wonderful cures the doctor had performed upon her, a parrot
that had learned some coarse language from the porters and costermongers
frequenting the market, and sometimes used it in a manner that seemed very
apt to the occasion, exclaimed, "Lying old ----!" when the old woman
concluded her narrative. The roar of laughter with which this criticism
was received by the rough audience disconcerted Bossy for a moment; but
quickly recovering his presence of mind, he stepped forward, with his hand
on his heart, and gravely replied, "It is no lie, you wicked bird!--it is
all true as is de Gospel!" Bossy attained considerable reputation, and
ended his days with a fair competence.
The mountebank has long fallen from his former high estate. The quack may
still be found vending his pills in the open-air markets of Yorkshire and
Lancashire; but he does not mount a stage, and resembles his predecessors
of the last century only in the fluency and volubility of his discourse on
the virtues of his potions, pills, and plasters. The author of the paper
on mountebanks in the "Book of Days" (edited by Robert Chambers), states
that he saw one at York about 1860, who "sold medicines on a stage in the
old style, but without the Merry Andrew or the music," and adds that "he
presented himself in shabby black clothes, with a dirty white neck-cloth."
Even the name had long before that time ceased to be connected with the
vending of medicines, and had come to be applied to those itinerant circus
companies who gave gratuitous performances in the open air, making their
gains by the sale of lottery tickets. The present writer remembers seeing
the circus company of John Clarke performing on a piece of waste ground at
Lower Norwood, when the clown of the show went among the spectators
selling tickets at a shilling each, entitling the holder to participate in
a drawing, the prizes in which were Britannia metal tea pots and milk
ewers, papier mache tea trays, cotton gown pieces, etc. That must have
been about 1835, or within a year or two of that time.
Only a few years later, a lottery in sixpenny shares was similarly
conducted at Alfreton, in Derbyshire, and probably in many other places,
though contrary to the provisions of the Lottery Act.
The mountebank doctor of former times, with his carriage, his zany, and
his musicians, can now only be met with in the provincial towns of France
and Italy, and even there but seldom. Thirty or forty years ago, there was
a man who, in a carriage drawn up behind the Louvre, used to practise
dentistry and advertise his father, who had a flourishing dentist's
practice in one of the narrow streets near the cathedral of Notre Dame.
Another of this fraternity was seen at Marseilles by an English tourist a
few years later, and in this instance some musicians accompanied the
mountebank's phaeton, and drowned the cries of the suffering patients with
the crash of a march. But these survivals remind us rather of _Belphegor_,
in the pathetic drama of that name, than of _Dulcamara_ in the opera of
_L'Elisor d'Amore_, with his gorgeous equipage and his musical attendants,
as old play-goers remember the personation of the character by the famous
Lablache.
The Strange Story of the Fight with the Small-Pox.
BY THOMAS FROST.
When, at the present day, we hear of an epidemic of small-pox in some town
where the practice of vaccine inoculation has been neglected, it is both
instructive and consolatory to turn our thoughts back to the time, before
the introduction of that practice, when that horrible disease caused ten
per cent, of all the deaths in excess of those occurring in the ordinary
course of nature. This statement, startling as it may seem to the present
generation, may be verified by reference to the annual bills of mortality
of the city of London. This fearful state of things had prevailed in
England from the time of the Plantagenets, when, in the first quarter of
the eighteenth century, a gleam of light was flashed upon the medical
darkness of western Europe from the east. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,
writing from Adrianople to a lady friend in the spring of 1717, flashed
that light in the concluding portion of her letter, as follows:--
"Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make
you wish yourself here. The small-pox, so fatal and so general amongst
us, is here entirely harmless, by the invention of _ingrafting_, which
is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it
their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of
September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another
to know if any of their family has a mind to have the small-pox; they
make parties for this purpose, and when they are met (commonly fifteen
or sixteen together), the old woman comes with a nut-shell full of the
matter of the best sort of small-pox, and asks what vein you please to
have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer to her with a
large needle (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch), and
puts into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her
needle, and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of
shell, and in this manner opens four or five veins.
... Every year thousands undergo this operation; and the French
ambassador says pleasantly, that they take the small-pox here by way
of diversion, as they take the waters in other countries. There is no
example of any one that has died in it; and you may believe I am well
satisfied of the safety of this experiment, since I intend to try it
on my own little son."
This intention she carried into practice, and on her return to England
made great exertions to introduce inoculation into general use. The
medical profession opposed it so strongly, however, that for many years
the horrible distemper continued to rage unchecked. Such announcements as
the following were, in consequence, not unfrequent in the newspapers:--
"WHEREAS the TOWN of BURY ST. EDMUND'S, where the GENERAL QUARTER
SESSIONS of the PEACE of that Division are usually held, is now
afflicted with the Small-Pox, for which reason it might be of
exceeding ill consequence to the Country in General to hold the
Sessions there; This is, therefore, to acquaint the PUBLIC that the
next GENERAL QUARTER SESSIONS of the Peace will be held at the sign of
the PICKEREL in IXWORTH, on Monday next.
"COCKSEDGE, Clerk of the Peace."
Later on in the same year (1744) an advertisement appeared, signed by the
clergy, churchwardens, and medical practitioners of the town, stating that
"there were only twenty-one persons then lying ill of the small-pox."
Scarcely a week passed, in those days, without advertisements appearing of
the number of cases of the disease in certain towns. Careful study of a
large number of these announcements shows, however, that it was only
thought desirable to advertise when the epidemic was thought to be
abating, or when it had abated. Take the following, for instance:--
"Nov. 4, 1755.
"Upon the strictest Inquiry made of the present state of the SMALL-POX
in BECCLES, it appears to be in eleven houses, and no more, and that
the truth may be constantly known, the same will be weekly advertised
alternately in the Ipswich and Norwich papers by us,
"THO. PAGE, Rector.
"OSM. CLARKE and IS. BLOWERS, Churchwardens."
In the following year we find it announced that, "upon a strict inquiry
made by the clerks through their respective parishes, delivered to us, and
attested by them, there is but six persons now afflicted with the
small-pox in this town,"--to wit, Colchester--and this statement is signed
by three ministers and six medical practitioners. In the _Ipswich Journal_
of Jan. 22nd, 1757, the following appeared:--"There will be no fair this
year at Bildestone on Ash Wednesday, as usual, by reason of the small-pox
being in several parishes not far off."
The practice of inoculation, though still frowned upon by a large
proportion of the medical profession, was growing at this time, as appears
from the following advertisement:--
"COLCHESTER, May 12, 1762.
"The Practice of bringing people out of the country into this town to
be inoculated for the Small-pox being very prejudicial to the town in
many respects, but especially to the Trade thereof, and as by this
practice the distemper may be continued much longer in the town than
it otherwise would, in all probability, it is thought proper by some
of the principal inhabitants and traders in the town, that this public
notice should be given that they are determined to prosecute any
person or persons whomsoever, that shall hereafter bring into this
town, or who shall receive into their houses in the town as lodgers,
any person or persons for that purpose, with the utmost severity that
the law will permit.... But that they might not be thought
discouragers of a practice so salutary and beneficial to mankind, as
inoculation is found to be, which encourages great numbers to go into
the practice, the persons who have caused this public notice to be
given have no objection to surgeons carrying on the practice in houses
properly situated for the purpose."
The "great numbers" of persons referred to in this notice as having "gone
into the practice" of inoculation for the small-pox appear to have been
chiefly old women, as in Turkey, and by some of these it was carried on
until the passing of the Vaccination Act in 1840. Five guineas was the fee
advertised in the _Ipswich Journal_ in 1761 for performing the operation
by Robert Sutton, an operator in Kent, who announced that he had "only met
with but one accident out of the many hundreds he has had under his cure."
The prevalence of this hideous disease in the last century, and the dread
which it inspired, is curiously attested by the frequency with which
advertisements for servants, etc., appeared in the newspapers, in which
there was an express stipulation that applicants must have had the
small-pox. A housemaid or footman whose face bore the traces of this
disease would not, at the present day, find their appearance much in their
favour: but the following selection of advertisements, culled from the
_Ipswich Journal_ and the _Salisbury and Winchester Journal_, show that in
the last century the marks would increase their chances of obtaining
employment very considerably. The dates range from 1755 to 1781, and such
announcements might be increased to any extent.
"A Three Years' APPRENTICE is wanted to use the Sea between
Manningtree and London, whose age is between 18 and 25 years, and has
had the Small-pox. Such a one, inquiring of MR. WM. LEACH, at Mistley
Thorne, in Essex, will hear of good encouragement."
"WANTED, about Michaelmas, as Coachman, in a gentleman's family, who
can drive four horses, and ride postillion well. A Single Man, must
have had the Small-pox, and know how to drive in London. Such an one,
who can be well recommended, by giving a description of himself, his
age, and abilities, in a letter directed to A. B., at MR. J.
KENDALL'S, in COLCHESTER, may hear of a very good place."
"WANTED, a JOURNEYMAN BAKER, that is a good workman, and has had the
SMALL-POX. Such a person may hear of a good place by applying to MR.
JOHN STOW, at Sudbury, or to the Printer of this paper."
"Wanted an Apprentice to an eminent Surgeon in full practice in the
county of Suffolk. If he has not had the Small-Pox, it is expected he
will be inoculated for it, before he enters on business.--Enquire of
JOHN FOX, at Dedham, Essex."
"COLCHESTER, June 15th, 1762.
"Wanted immediately, a Stout Lad as an Apprentice to a Currier. If he
can write it will be the more agreeable. Inquire further of ELEANOR
ONYON. N.B.--If he has not had the Small-pox, he need not apply."
"WANTED for a gentleman that lives most part of the year in London, A
Genteel Person, between 28 and 40 years of age, that has had the
Small-pox, to be as Companion and Housekeeper. One that has been
brought up in a genteel, frugal and handsome manner, either a Maid or
Widow, so they have no incumbrances."
"WANTED, a NURSEMAID. None need apply who cannot bring a good
character from their last place; and has had the Small-pox."
"WANTS a place in a large or small family, in town or country, a YOUNG
MAN, who is well versed in the different branches of a Gardener, has
had the Small-pox, and can write a good hand."
"WANTED, in a large family, a STOUT WOMAN, about 30, single, or a
widow without children, who has had the Small-pox, to take care of a
lusty child, under a year old. Her character must be unexceptionable,
and by no means a fashionable dresser, and lived in families of
credit. Any person answering this description may enquire of MRS.
MERCER, at the Star and Garter, Andover, and be further informed."
It was about the time when the last of these advertisements appeared that
Jenner commenced his inquiries concerning the prophylactic virtues of
cow-pox, though nearly twenty years elapsed before they were sufficiently
advanced to enable him to make the results known. His idea of using
vaccine inoculation to bring about the total extinction of small pox was
scouted by those of his professional brethren to whom he mentioned it, and
we learn from one of his biographers that, at the outset, "both his own
observation and that of other medical men of his acquaintance proved to
him that what was commonly called cow-pox was not a certain preventive of
small-pox. But he ascertained by assiduous inquiry and personal
investigation that cows were liable to various kinds of eruption on their
teats, all capable of being communicated to the hands of the milkers; and
that such sores when so communicated were all called cow-pox." But when he
had traced out the nature of these various diseases, and ascertained which
of them possessed the protective virtue against small-pox, he was again
foiled by learning that in some cases when what he now called the true
cow-pox broke out among the cattle on a dairy farm, and had been
communicated to the milkers, they subsequently had small-pox. These
repeated failures perplexed him, but at the same time stimulated, instead
of discouraging him. He conceived the idea that the virus of cow-pox
might undergo some change which deprived it of its protective power, while
still enabling it to communicate a disease to human beings. Following up
the inquiry from this point, he at length discovered that the virus was
capable of imparting protection against small-pox only in a certain
condition of the pustule.
He was now prepared to submit his theory to the test of experiment, but it
was not until 1796 that he had the opportunity. A dairymaid, who had
contracted cow-pox from one of her employer's cows, afforded the matter,
and Jenner introduced it into two incisions in the arms of a boy about
eight years of age. The disease thus transferred ran its ordinary course
without any ill effects, and the boy was afterwards inoculated with the
virus of small pox, which produced no effect. The disappearance of the
cow-pox from the dairies in the neighbourhood of his country practice in
Gloucestershire prevented him from making further experiments; and when he
visited London for that purpose, he had the mortification of finding that
no one could be found who would consent to be operated upon. It was not
until 1798 that this obstacle was overcome, and then, the results of the
earlier experiments having been confirmed by a series of vaccinations,
followed by inoculation for small-pox several months afterwards without
effect, Jenner made his discovery public.
In the following year, vaccine inoculation began to spread, the practice
being taken up by many of Jenner's friends, including several who were not
in the medical profession. But, like inoculation for the small-pox, when
introduced by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,--like all innovations on
established practices, indeed,--vaccination received for many years after
its introduction the most violent opposition. Just as inoculation for
small-pox had been denounced from the pulpit and in medical treatises as a
"diabolical operation" and a wicked interference with the designs of
Providence, so did a certain Dr. Squirrel denounce vaccination as an
attempt to change "the established laws of nature." The most absurd
stories were circulated of the effects alleged to have followed
vaccination. "A lady," it is stated by Mr. Bettany, "complained that since
her daughter had been vaccinated she coughed like a cow, and had grown
hairy all over her body; and in one country district it was stated that
vaccination had been discontinued there, because those who had been
inoculated in that manner bellowed like bulls." There were even doctors
who pretended to detect resemblances to bovine visages in the countenances
of children, produced, as they did not hesitate to declare, by
vaccination! Self-interest may have had as much to do as prejudice in
prompting the opposition of the profession. Many practitioners derived a
considerable portion of their income from fees for inoculation for
small-pox. Sutton, as we have seen, charged five guineas for the
operation, and advertised himself in many provincial newspapers; and the
income of Dr. Woodville, at one time physician to the Small-Pox Hospital,
is said to have sunk in one year from a thousand pounds to a hundred on
his adopting the practice of vaccination.
Notwithstanding the prejudice and interested antagonism to which the new
practice was exposed, it continued to make way. The Rev. Dr. Booker, of
Dudley, gave the following striking testimony to its beneficial
effects:--"I have, previous to the knowledge of vaccine inoculation,
frequently buried, day after day, several (and once as many as eight)
victims of the small-pox. But since the parish has been blessed with this
invaluable boon of Divine Providence (cow pox), introduced among us nearly
four years ago, only two victims have fallen a prey to the above ravaging
disorder (small pox). In the surrounding villages, like an insatiable
Moloch, it has lately been devouring vast numbers, where obstinacy and
prejudice have precluded the Jennerian protective blessing."
In 1803, the Royal Jennerian Institution was founded under royal
patronage, and with Jenner as president, to promote vaccination in London
and elsewhere; and its operations were continued for a few years with much
success, ceasing, however, on the establishment of the National Vaccine
Institution in 1808. Two years prior to this event, Lord Henry Petty, who
then held the office of Chancellor of the Exchequer, carried a motion in
the House of Commons, that the Royal College of Physicians should be
requested to inquire and report on the progress of vaccination. The
report, which appeared in the following year, set forth that, within eight
years from the discovery of vaccination, some hundreds of thousands of
persons had been vaccinated in the British Islands, and upwards of eight
hundred thousand in our East Indian possessions, and that the practice
had been generally adopted on the continent of Europe. Considering that
small-pox destroyed one-sixth of those whom it attacked, and that nearly
one-tenth, and in some years more than that proportion, of the entire
mortality in London was caused by it, and also the number, respectability,
and extensive experience of the advocates of vaccination, compared with
the feeble and imperfect testimonies of its few opponents, the value of
the practice seemed firmly established.
This report did much to advance vaccination in public opinion. At the next
quarter sessions held at Stafford, it was taken into consideration by the
county magistrates, who, from its statements and the reports and
testimonials sent to Jenner, considered themselves justified in placing it
on record--"That vaccine inoculation, properly conducted, appeared never
to have failed as a certain preservative against small-pox; that it was
unattended by fever, and perfectly free from danger; that it required
neither confinement, loss of time, nor previous preparation; that it was
not infectious, nor productive of other diseases; that it might be
performed with safety on persons of every age and sex, and at all times
and seasons of the year." It was not, however, until 1840 that the results
of the labours of Jenner, the report of the Royal College of Physicians,
and the opinions of nearly the entire medical profession received
legislative endorsement by the passing of the Vaccination Act, since which
small-pox has become a thing of the past, except in cases where it has
been conserved by prejudice and ignorance.
Burkers and Body-Snatchers.
BY THOMAS FROST.
How recollections will crowd upon the mind when a train of thought is set
in motion by the association of ideas! When, many years ago, I visited Dr.
Kahn's anatomical museum, then located in Tichborne Street, I there saw a
human skeleton which was affirmed by the lecturer, Dr. Sexton, to be that
of John Bishop, who was hanged in 1831, for the murder of an Italian boy
named Carlo Ferrari, at a house in Nova Scotia Gardens, one of the slums
then existing in the north-eastern quarter of London. Though nearly forty
years had elapsed since the commission of the crime, and I was only ten
years of age when I heard the horrible story which the sight of that
ghastly relic of mortality recalled to my mind, all the incidents
connected with it immediately passed before my mental vision like a
hideous phantasmagoria. The vividness with which they came back to me may
be accounted for by the deep impression which they made upon my mind at
the time of their occurrence. Those whose memories will carry them back
sixty years will readily understand this.
At the time when the public mind was harrowed by the narration in the
newspapers of the horrible circumstances connected with the murder, and
for some time previously, a fearful excitement had been created in all
parts of the country by stories of murders committed and graves robbed of
their ghastly tenants for the purpose of supplying with "subjects" the
dissecting tables of the London and Edinburgh schools of anatomy. In the
latter city two miscreants named Burke and Hare had been convicted of
murder for this purpose, and one of them hanged for their crimes; but the
scare had not abated. Stories were told with appalling frequency of
corpses missing from lonely graveyards and of narrow escapes from murder
in little frequented places. Chloroform had not then been discovered, but
the Scotch professors of the art of murder had introduced the practice,
popularly named after one of them, of disabling their victims by means of
a pitch plaster suddenly clapped on the mouth. Every person who was
missing was thought to have been "burked," and the watching of graves to
prevent the removal of newly-buried corpses became an established
practice. As the dark nights of the late autumn came on, the fears of the
timid and nervous were doubled, and persons who lived in lonely places, or
in the ill-lighted parts of towns, became afraid to leave their houses
after nightfall. I remember hearing such fears expressed by several
persons at Croydon, with whom my parents were acquainted, and also of
neighbours combining to assist in watching the graves of deceased members
of each others' families.