From what meagre biographies we have of French doctors of the past, we are
led to believe that, as at the present time, the humbugs outnumbered the
honest medical practitioners. In the days of Clovis and the great
Charlemagne, before the power of Rome was broken, before Russia was a
nation, and when England was subject to the caprices of many masters,
there were many surgeons employed in the armies of these kings, but the
priests and wizards were the physicians to the great public. The surgeons
possessed all the knowledge there was to be attained at that distant day;
yet they made the heart, not the brain, the centre of thought, and "the
palace of the soul," knew little of anatomy, and nothing of the
circulation of the blood.
The physicians of later periods held court positions by flattery, not by
merit. This was particularly true up to and inclusive of the reign of
"LOUIS LE GRAND." Those who attended as physicians upon the court of this
remarkable monarch of France for seventy-two years, received no stipend
whatever, except the honor of holding so exalted a position as court
physician to such a mighty ruler; and, notwithstanding the outside
practice that this elevated station necessarily brought them, but few
physicians could long bear the enormous expense attending that position.
Louis resided at a distance from his capital. His changes of residence
were continual, and not without a design, and chiefly made for the purpose
of creating and maintaining a number of artificial distinctions. By these
he kept the court in a state of constant anxiety, expense, and
expectation. When the next proposed change was announced, he had made it
the fashion for courtiers to accompany him,--to Versailles, to St.
Germain, or Marly,--and to occupy apartments near him, and the
extravagance and magnificence in which he made it incumbent upon his
followers to appear, with the frequent prescribed changes, rendered it too
expensive a position for a man to sustain, unless possessed of a previous
ample fortune. The surgeons of the armies were paid for their services.
Both Drs. O'Meara and Antommarchi have testified to Napoleon's scepticism
in medicine and distrust of physicians. But "surgeons are godlike," he is
represented as saying, and upon all worthy he bestowed the "Legion of
Honor."
At St. Helena, Dr. Antommarchi was endeavoring to persuade the emperor to
take a simple remedy which he had prepared for him.
"Bah!" exclaimed Napoleon, "I cannot; it is beyond my power to take
medicine."
"I pray your majesty to try," entreated the doctor.
"The aversion I have for the slightest preparation is inconceivable. I
have exposed myself to the dangers of the battle-field with indifference;
I have seen death without betraying emotion; but to take medicine, I
cannot," was his reply.
Madame Bertrand, who was present, tried also to persuade the emperor to
take the physician's prescription.
"How do you manage to take all those abominable pills and drugs, Madame
Bertrand, which the doctor is continually prescribing for you?" asked the
emperor.
"O, I take them without stopping to think about it," was her reply; "and I
beg your majesty will do the same."
Still the dying man shook his head, and appealed to General Montholon, who
gave a similar answer.
"Do you think it will relieve me from this oppression, doctor?" he finally
asked of Dr. Antommarchi.
"I do, my dear sire; and I entreat your majesty to drink it."
"What is it?" asked Napoleon, eying the glass suspiciously.
"Merely some orange water," was the reply.
"Give it me, then;" and the emperor seized the cup and drank the contents
at one draught.
"The emperor has no faith in medicine, and never takes any," said Las
Cases, in his memoirs.
About the year 1723, a man sprang into notice in Paris, styling himself
Dr. Villars. He claimed relationship to the Duke Louis Hector Villars, and
the Abbe Pons is represented as saying that "Dr. Villars is superior to
the great marshal, Louis Hector. The duke kills men,--the doctor prolongs
their existence."
Villars declared that his uncle, who had been killed at the age of one
hundred years, and who might, but for his accidental death, have lived
another half century, had confided to him the secret of his longevity.
It consisted of a medicine, which, if taken according to directions
accompanying each bottle, would prolong the life of the fortunate
possessor _ad infinitum_.
Villars employed several assistants to stand on the corners of the
streets, and who, when a funeral was seen passing, would exclaim,--
"Ah! if the unfortunate deceased had but taken Dr. Villars' nostrum, he
might now be riding in his own carriage, instead of in a hearse."
"Of course," says our authority, "the rabble believed the testimony of
such respectable and _disinterested_ appearing witnesses, and made haste
to obtain the doctor's nostrum--and instructions." And here is where the
laugh comes in.
The patient received positive instructions to live temperately, to eat
moderately, bathe daily, to avoid all excesses, to take steady and
moderate exercise, to rise early, and, in fact, to obey all the laws of
nature. Of course those who persevered in these instructions were greatly
benefited thereby, and the dupes, attributing their recovery to the use of
the nostrum, lauded the doctor.
The medicine, put up in a small bottle, carefully labelled, and sold for
the modest sum of five francs, consisted of water from the River Seine,
tinctured with a quantity of spirits of nitre. A few were wise enough to
see the trick, but most people believed in the efficacy of the nostrum.
Unfortunately for Villars, he intrusted his secret to another, the humbug
leaked out, and Othello's occupation was gone; but not, however, until
Villars had amassed a large fortune from the credulity of the public.
This brings to mind a story, the truth of which can be vouched for,
respecting a New England doctor. His labels contained the following
instructions:--
"The doctor charges you to take care of the health God has given you. In
eating and exercise be moderate. Avoid bad habits and excesses that sap
the life from you. Use no salt pork, newly-baked fine bread, vinegar,
coffee, strong tea, or spirits while taking this medicine. 'Tis not in the
power of man to restore you to health unless you regard these directions."
"What do you think of this?" asked the editor of a journal of Dr. P.,
former professor of H---- College, presenting a vial of the high dilution,
as the medicine was, labelled as above.
"All very well," the doctor replied, after having read the label; "for if
the vial contains nothing but water, with just sufficient alcohol to keep
it, a strict observance of these directions might restore you to health."
"You have treated my case for a long time, doctor, and have never given me
such instructions. Pray why don't _you_ get up something similar?"
"Well, what was his reply?" I asked, as the editor hesitated.
"O, he has not yet informed me."