THE MEDICAL STUDENT.
I remained several weeks on my friend Tom’s plantation, enjoying the course of life that he pursued, which was entirely consonant to my tastes. His plantation consisted of about three hundred acres, principally laid down in wheat, indian corn and tobacco, though some of it still remained in meadow and woodland;—this, with a handsome productive property in the neighbouring towns of Alexandria and Washington, afforded him an abundant income to indulge his liberal, though not extravagant tastes. He usually arose at five in the morning, mounted his horse, and rode over the plantation, overseeing and giving instructions to the labourers; and returning, was met by his smiling wife and beautiful children at the breakfast table; after which, he again applied himself to business until eleven, when he threw all care aside, and devoted himself to pleasure or study, for the remainder of the day. He thus avoided the two extremes to which country gentlemen are liable,—over work on the one hand, or ennui on the other. His library—the windows commanding a view of twenty miles down the Potomac—was crowded with a varied store of general literature; among which, I observed shining conspicuously,the emblazoned backs of Shakspeare, and the worthy old Knight of La Mancha. History, Travels, the Classics—English, French, Spanish, and Italian—and works on Natural History and general science, were marshalled on their respective shelves. There was also, a small, but very select Medical Library, for my friend had taken his degree in that profession, and although relieved from the necessity of practising for support, he was in the habit of attending gratuitously on the poor in the neighbouring country.—Marble busts of Shakspeare, Milton and Columbus, stood on pedestals in the corners of the room, and fine old portraits of Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Dante, and Ben Jonson, besides an exquisite gem of Ruysdaels hanging over the fire-place, adorned the walls. On one side of the room, fronting the entrance, an effigy in complete polished armour of the fifteenth century, stood erect and grim, the mailed gauntlet grasping the upright spear; while, on a withered branch above it, was perched with extended wings, a superb American Eagle, in full preservation, his keen eye appearing to flash upon the intruders at the entrance. In the centre, on the soft thick carpet, which returned no sound of footsteps, was a circular table surmounted with an Argand lamp and writing apparatus; on one side of which, was one of the exquisitely comfortable lounging chairs, that admit of almost every position of ease, and on the other, a crimson fauteuil stuffed with down,which Tom laughingly said, was for the peculiar benefit of his wife, when she saw fit to honour his sanctum sanctorum with her presence. He tasked his invention to the utmost to make my time agreeable;—horses, dogs, guns, books, every thing was at my disposal. Among other excursions, he proposed, a few days after my arrival, that we should take a run down the Potomac in his boat. Now this boat was none other than a beautiful clipper-built schooner-rigged yacht, of about twenty tons burden, with a very ample cabin in her centre, and from the gilt eagle on her stern, and the gaudy pennant streaming at her masthead, to the taught stay running out to the end of her mimic jib-boom, the most complete thing of the kind that I ever laid eyes on. In so expressing myself when I first saw her, I received an approbatory and very gracious nod from “Old Kennedy,” a regular old salt, with one arm, for whom Tom had built a cottage on his estate, and to whom she was beauty personified;—a beauty which he could the more readily appreciate, from the fact, that the far greater part of his time was devoted to her decoration. “Many a time,” says Tom, “have I found him lying by himself on the banks, looking at her in admiration with half-open eyes; and I much doubt whether my Mary looks more beautiful to me, than does her namesake, as she floats yonder, to old Kennedy.”
But to come to our story. We appointed the followingday for our excursion, and, having first ascertained that Walter Lee, an old friend, whose plantation was a couple of miles below would join us, we early the next morning got up our anchor, and under the influence of a smacking breeze, were soon cutting our way down the river, the white canvass stretching clean and taught out to the stays; our long pennant streaming proudly behind us, and our little jack shaking most saucily from its slender staff at the bowsprit, as we merrily curveted and jumped over the waves. Running down to a point on Lee’s plantation, we got him on board, and were soon under way again, the water bubbling and gurgling into our scuppers, as we lay down to it in the stiff breeze. Occasionally she would sweep, gunwale under, when a flaw would strike her; but old Kennedy, wide awake, would bring her up with a long curving sweep, as gracefully as a young lady sliding out of the waltz in a crowded ball-room, till, stretching out again, she would course along, dancing over the mimic waves, with a coquetry equal to those same fair damsels, when they find an unfortunate wight secure in their chains. We were all in fine spirits; Tom’s negro boy, seated at the heel of the foremast, showing his white teeth, in a delighted grin, as old Kennedy, with his grave face, played off nautical wit at his peculiar expense. We saw a number of ducks, but they were so shy that we could with difficulty get a shot at them; but we now and then succeeded inpicking half a dozen snipe out of a flock, as it rose from the shore, and flew across our bows. We continued running down the river in this way, for three or four hours, passing now and then a fisherman, or other craft, slowly beating up; but towards noon the breeze slackened,—we gradually lost our way—merely undulating, as the wind fanned by us in light airs, till finally it entirely subsided; our long pennant hanging supinely on the shrouds, and the water slopping pettishly against our bows, as we rested tranquilly upon its surface. The after part of the yacht was covered with an awning, which, although sufficiently high to prevent its obstructing the view of the helmsman, afforded us a cover from the rays of the sun, so that we lay contentedly, reclining upon the cushions, smoking our cigars, enjoying our refreshments, and reviving old recollections and associations, for it must be confessed that we three, in our student days, had “rung the chimes at midnight.” I had not seen Lee for several years;—he was a descendant of the celebrated partizan officer, who commanded the dashing corps in the Revolution known as Lee’s Legion, and inherited, in a marked degree, all the lofty courtesy and real chivalry that characterized that officer. He was exceedingly well read in the military history of the country, and indeed so thoroughly imbued with military spirit, that should the signal of war ring through the country, I know of no man whose hand would so soon be on thesword hilt and foot in the stirrup. My introduction to his acquaintance was marked by an incident so peculiarly painful and exciting in its character, that I cannot refrain from relating it. Having been let loose from the care of my guardians at a very early age, I made the first use of my liberty in travelling in a good-for-nothing sort of way over Europe, determined to see for myself, the grandeur of Old England; to climb the Alps; to hear the romantic legends of Germany, in her own dark forests; to study the painters and sculptors of Italy, on her classic soil; to say nothing of visions of dark-eyed girls of Seville, of sylphs and fairies, floating through the ballets and operas of Paris, and midnight adventures in the gondolas of Venice. Arriving at London, I fell in with, and gladly availed myself of the opportunity to take apartments in the same house with my friend Tom and his fellow-student Lee, both Americans, and both completing a course of medical education by attending the lectures of the celebrated John Hunter.
It so happened, that on the very first evening that we came together, in conversation upon the peculiar features of their profession, I expressed a desire to visit a dissecting-room, never having been in one in my own country. Lee immediately invited me to accompany them to the lecture on that evening, which was to be delivered in the rotunda of the College, and where, by going at an early hour, my curiosity couldbe satisfied, besides the opportunity that I should have of hearing that eminent surgeon. So pulling on our hats and taking our umbrellas in our hands, we plunged into the dense fog, and groped our way over the greasy pavements to the college. It was a large building, in a dark and retired court, with something in its very exterior sepulchral and gloomy. Entering the hall door, we ascended one pair of stairs, stopping for a moment as we passed the second story, to look into the large rotunda of the lecture room. The vacant chair of the professor was standing near the wall in the rear of a circular table of such peculiar construction, as to admit of elevation and depression in every part. This table was the one upon which the subjects were laid when under the hands of the demonstrator. Two skeletons, suspended by wires from the ceiling, hung directly over it; the room was as yet unoccupied and silent. Ascending another flight of stairs, we came to a third, secured at its entrance by a strong oaken door;-this appeared to put a stop to our further ascent, but upon a small bell being pulled, a sort of wicket in the upper part of the door was cautiously drawn aside, discovering the features of a stern, solemn-looking man, who, apparently satisfied of the right of the parties to enter, drew one or two heavy bolts, and dropping a chain admitted us. A small table was placed at the foot of the stairs, at which, by the light of a lamp, this gloomy porter was perusing a book of devotion. Ascendingthe stairs, it was not until three several attempts, that I was enabled to surmount the effects of the effluvia sufficiently to enter the green baize door that opened into the dissecting-room. As it swung noiselessly to behind me, the first sensation produced by the sight, was that of faintness; but it almost immediately subsided. There appeared a sort of profanity in speaking aloud, and I found myself unconsciously asking questions of my friends in a low whisper.
On small narrow tables, in different parts of the large room, which, though lighted by a dome in the centre, required, in the deep darkness of a London fog, the additional aid of lamps, were extended some five and twenty human corpses in different stages of dissection. Groups of students were silently engaged with their scalpels in examining these wonderful temples of the still more wonderful human soul. Here a solitary individual, with his book open before him upon the corpse, followed the text upon the human subject, while there, two or three together were tracing with patient distinctness the course of the disease which had driven the spirit of life from its frail habitation. I observed one of the professors in his gold spectacles pointing out to a number of the students, gathered around one of the subjects, the evidences of an ossification of the great aorta, which had, after years of torture, necessarily terminated the life of the sufferer.—There was almost as much individuality in thosecorpses as if they had been living, and it required the most determined effort on my part to divest myself of the idea that they were sentient, and aware of all that was passing around them. I recollect, particularly, one, which was lying nearest the door as I entered;—it was the body of a man of about forty, with light hair, and fair complexion, who had been cut down in the midst of health. His face was as full, and his skin as white, as if he had been merely sleeping; but the knife had passed around his throat, down his body, and then in sections cross-ways; the internal muscles having been evidently exposed, and the skin temporarily replaced, during the casual absence of the dissector. There was something peculiarly horrid in the appearance of that corpse, as, aside from a ruffianly and dissolute expression of the features, the gash around his throat conveyed the impression that it was a murdered man lying before me. A good-looking, middle-aged female was extended just beyond, her long hair hanging down over the end of the table, but not as yet touched by the hand of the surgeon; while, just beyond her, the body of an old man, from which the upper part of the skull had been sawn to take out the brain, appeared to be grinning at us with a horrid sort of mirth. In another part of the room, directly over which the blackening body of an infant was thrown across a beam, like a piece of an old carpet, was extended the body of a gigantic negro; he layupon his back, his legs somewhat apart, one of his arms thrown up so as to rest upon the top of his head, his eyes wide open, his nostrils distended, and his teeth clenched in a hideous grin. There was such evidence of strength, such giant development of muscle, such appearance of chained energy and ferocity about him, that, upon my soul, it seemed to me every moment as if he was about to spring up with a frantic yell, and throw himself upon us; and wherever I went about the room, my eyes still involuntarily turned, expecting to see that fierce negro drawing up his legs ready to bound, like a malignant demon, over the intervening space. He had been brought home for murder upon the high seas, but the jail-fever had anticipated the hand of the executioner, and his body of course was given over to the surgeons. A far different object lay on the floor near him; it was the body of a young girl of about eleven or twelve years old. The poor little creature had evidently died of neglect, and her body drawn up by the action of the flexor muscles into the form of a bow, stiffened in death, rocked forward and backward when touched by the foot; the sunken blue eyes staring sorrowfully and reproachfully upon us from the emaciated features. Beyond her, in most savage contrast, was thrown the carcass of a Bengal tiger, which had died a day or two before in the royal menagerie, his talons extending an inch beyond his paws, and there was about his huge distended jawsand sickly eyes, as perfect a portraiture of disease, and pain, and agony, as it has ever been my lot to witness in suffering humanity. There was no levity about the students, but, on the contrary, a sort of solemnity in their examinations; and when they spoke, it was in a low tone, as if they were apprehensive of disturbing the dead around them. I thought at the time that it would be well if some of those who sneer at the profession, could look in upon one of these even minor ordeals to which its followers are subjected in their efforts to alleviate the sufferings of their fellow-men.
As the hour for the lecture approached, the students one by one, closed their books, washed their hands, and descended to the lecture-room. We descended with the rest, and as we passed the grim porter, at the bottom of the stair-case, I observed in the corner behind him a number of stout bludgeons, besides several cutlasses and muskets. A popular commotion a short time previous, among some of the well-intentioned but ignorant of the lower classes, had induced the necessity of caution, and this preparation for resistance. Entering the lecture-room, we took our places on the third or fourth row of seats from the demonstrator’s table, upon which a subject was lying, covered with a white sheet, and had time, as the room gradually filled, to look about us. Besides the students, Lee pointed out to me several able professionalgentlemen, advanced in life, who were attracted by the celebrity of the lecturer; among others, Abernethy and Sir Astley Cooper. Shortly after we had taken our seats, a slender, melancholy-looking young man, dressed in deep mourning, entered the circle in which we were seated, and took his place on the vacant bench at my side. He bowed reservedly to my companions as he passed them, but immediately on sitting down became absorbed in deep sadness. My friends returned his salute, but did not appear inclined to break into his abstraction. At the precise moment that the lecture was announced to be delivered, the tall form of the eminent surgeon was seen descending the alley of crowded seats to his chair. The lights in the various parts of the room were raised suddenly, throwing a glare on all around; and one of the skeletons, to which an accidental jar had been given, vibrated slowly forward and backward, while the other hung perfectly motionless from its cord. In his short and sententious manner, he opened the subject of the lecture, which was the cause, effect, and treatment of that scourge of our country—consumption. His remarks were singularly lucid and clear, even to me, a layman. After having gone rapidly through the pathology of the disease, consuming perhaps some twenty minutes of time, he said,—“We will now, gentlemen, proceed to demonstration upon the subject itself.” I shall not readily forget the scene that followed. Ashe slowly turned up the wristbands of his shirt sleeves, and bent over to select an instrument from the case at his side, he motioned to an assistant to withdraw the sheet that covered the corpse. Resuming his erect position, the long knife glittering in his hand, the sheet was slowly drawn off, exhibiting the emaciated features of an aged woman, her white hair parted smoothly in the middle of her forehead, passing around to the back of the head, beneath the plain white muslin cap. The silence which always arrests even the most frivolous in the presence of the dead, momentarily checked the busy hum of whispers around me, when I heard a gasp—a choking—a rattling in the throat, at my side; and the next instant, the young man sitting next to me, rose to his feet, threw his arms wildly upwards, and shrieking in a tone of agony, that caused every man’s heart in that assembly, momentarily to stop—“My m-o-t-h-e-r!”—plunged prostrate and stiff, head foremost upon those in front of him. All was instant consternation and confusion;—there was one present who knew him, but to the majority of the students, he was as much a stranger as he was to my friends. He was from one of the adjoining parishes of London, and two weeks before, had lost his mother, to whom he was much attached, and by fatal mischance, that mother lay extended before him, upon the demonstrator’s table. He was immediately raised, but entirely stiff and insensible, and carried into an adjoining room;—sufficientanimation was at length restored to enable him to stand, but he stared vacantly about him, the great beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, without a particle of mind or memory. The lecture was of course closed, and the lifeless corse again entrusted to hands to replace it in its tomb. The young man, on the following day, was brought sufficiently to himself to have memory present the scene again to his mind, and fell almost immediately into a raging fever, accompanied with fierce and violent delirium; his fever gradually abated, and his delirium at intervals; but when I left London for the continent, three months after, he was rapidly sinking under the disease which carried off his mother—happily in a state of helpless and senseless idiocy; and in a very short time after, death relieved him from his misery. The whole scene was so thrilling and painful, that, connecting it in some measure with my introduction to Lee, his presence always recalled it to my memory.