"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
wandered 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, midwife_."
We have not space to write out her whole history, nor inclination 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 malevolent _bawd_!
The writer has seen a picture of her home in New Hampshire, 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
expression, 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 hardened features of that
wretched woman. _She is the John Allen of Boston._
For years she has carried on, under the cloak of a "midwife," 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 hatred; 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 complexion, 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.
The young man who completed her ruin, like the contemptible 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 influential
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 consultation that afternoon. She sent no address;
merely a "woman with a cancer of the breast." She came. She introduced 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 attempt 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 that time she gave up all hope of recovery, and soon closed her
nefarious practice. I have since gathered all the information 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 consult
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 practised 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, 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, according to the depth of your pocket,
give some simple mixture, and bow you out.
Many an honest patient, seeing their high-flown advertisements 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 residence, and have every outward appearance of
respectability.
There is a class of male practitioners, not unusually having 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 'her physician.' His office was
on Chambers Street, left side, a few doors from Cambridge Street, Boston.
The doctor 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 tribute 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 importance, 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 proceeding.
"Ah, sir, had you but come to me first-ah, you would now be rejoicing in
perfect health-ah; whereas you have narrowly 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 anticipation of a good fat fee for his prescription.
"Will they cure this?" I asked, turning my head, and placing a finger upon
a tumor on the right hand side of my neck.
"O-ah, let me see." And so saying, he took a brief survey 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."