QUACKS.
ANECDOTE IN ILLUSTRATION.—DERIVATION.—FATHER OF QUACKS.—A MEDICAL “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 CONSULTATION.—“SCENES FROM WESTERN PRACTICE.”—“TWIST ROOT.”—A JOLLY TRIO.—NEW “BUST” OF CUPID.—AN UNWILLING LISTENER.
ANECDOTE IN ILLUSTRATION.—DERIVATION.—FATHER OF QUACKS.—A MEDICAL “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 CONSULTATION.—“SCENES FROM WESTERN PRACTICE.”—“TWIST ROOT.”—A JOLLY TRIO.—NEW “BUST” OF CUPID.—AN UNWILLING LISTENER.
On looking over my “collection” on quacks and charlatans, I am so strongly reminded of a little anecdote which you may have already seen in print, but which so well illustrates painfully the facts to be adduced in this chapter, that Imustappropriate the story, which story a western engineer 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 astonishment.
“Finally one of them approached and said,—
“‘Stranger, are this ’ere a injine?’
“‘Certainly. Did you ever see one before?’
“‘No, never seen one o’ the critters afore. Me an’ Bill here comed 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,’ I 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 individual may comprehend the whole.
“Quacks comprehend not only those who enact the absurd impositions of ignorant pretenders, but also ofunbecoming acts of professional men themselves.”—Thomas’ Medical Dictionary.
This is the view we propose to take of it in this chapter, in connection with the derivation of the word.
The wordquackis derived from the German “quack salber,” or mercury, which metal was introduced into theMateria MedicabyPhilippus Aureolus Theophrastus Paracelsus Bombast ab Hohenhein!
“So extensively was quicksilver used by Paracelsus and his followers that they received the stigma of ‘quacks.’”—SeeParr’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.
THE INQUISITIVE COUNTRYMEN.
Professor Waterhouse (1835) says, “He was learned in Greek, Latin, and several other languages. That he introduced quicksilver,” etc., “and was a vain, arrogant profligate, and died a confirmed sot.”
“Paracelsus was a man of most dissolute habits and unprincipled character, and his works are filled 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.”—R. D. T.
Mercury was known to the early Greek and Roman physicians, who regarded it as a dangerous poison. They, however, used it externally in curing theitch, and John de Vigo employed it to cure the plague. Paracelsus used it internally first forlues 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. Paracelsus proclaimed to the world that there was no further need of theMateria Medica, especially the writings of Galen, and burned them in public; his “Elixir Vitæ” 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 theMateria Medicato a greater extent than any other remedy. Doubtless it possesses great medicinal virtues, but its abuse—the “heroic doses” used by the ignorant and brainless quacks, both graduates of some medical college, andsoi-disantphysicians—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 numerous host of worshippers; to uncover an ulcer, whoserottenness, though smelling to heaven, is protracted for the pecuniary 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 adherents, “it has slain its thousands.”
I need not quote those distinguished practitioners who have recorded their testimony against its general and indiscriminate 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 Hospitals, and forthwith the “smaller fry” made such a breeze about his ears that he seemed called upon to defend, and even palliate, 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. Travers my apprentice (surgeon of St. Thomas), Mr. Key and Mr. Cooper (surgeons of Guy’s Hospital) my nephews?”
This was verynaïve, 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 which the democratic 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 profession of England in 1846, wrote an earnest appeal to his brethren to rescue their art from the ruin into which it was falling,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 the “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 atWashington, 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 with the more confidence, as modern pathology has proved the impropriety of the use of mercury in very many of those diseases in which it was formerly unfailingly administered.”
The American Medical Times(regular) said, “The order appeared not only expedient, but judicious and necessary, under the circumstances.”Whatcircumstances? Read on further, and theTimeseditor 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. Hammond, “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 reformers. He was suspended. He was disgraced.
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. TheTimessaid, “The whole affair 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 general. This fact throws suspicion upon theobjectof the investigation.” Just so. The “object” was to appoint some one instead of Dr. Hammond, who would repeal the obnoxious order. No matter whatpretencewas 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 byappearances? Who so well knew the value, or injury, of calomel, as he who had used it for twenty odd years? Admitting Professor Chapman, of Philadelphia, was 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 selfishness in attempting to deprive young practitioners of the opportunity of laying for themselves a foundation for a prosperous future?
“Doubtless,” said a medical journal of the day, “allquacksandirregularsare congratulating themselves upon the appearance 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.
“No: I’ll see them damned to hell first,” was the gracious reply.
The resolutions drawn up and adopted by the New YorkAcademy 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 toquackery.”
There were 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.
In 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 botanics and eclectics quacks and Paracelsuses! Clear as—mud!
So! The calomel practitioners are quacks. The homeopathics are quacks. The eclectics, and botanics, and Mesmerics, 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 acharlatan! I turn to “Charlatan.” Lo, it is quack! Clear as mud, again.
In my perplexity I consult Webster. He refers me to agoose! So I rush to Worcester, and he implies it is aduck! Perhaps thebillhas something to do with the name; especially 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 professional man may hurl at any other whom he dislikes, or with whom he is not in fellowship.
In its general use it is thethiefcalling, “Stop thief.”
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 in 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., suffering 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——l, 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 practised in town. “I knew him well.” Once he sent to Boston fortwo ouncesof calomel. There was no steam conveyance in those days, and a sea captain took the order. By some mistake,two poundswere 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 Rochelle, Ill., is a remarkable case, a merchant. Almost every joint in his frame is rendered useless. He can speak, 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 employés. Though comparatively young, his hair is blanched like the snow-drift, falling 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, unsuccessfully striving to ‘hoe his row’ with his rougher and more vigorous fellows. The limb is wholly dead, so far asits usefulness 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., introduced through the teeth. But the doctors stick to calomel as the sheet anchor of their faith.”
BeholdWashington, who had passed through the battles of his country unharmed, and who in his last illness 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”?
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 return of hemorrhage, and two days after, a chill. With a lancet to correct the first, and calomel to check the second, I amgreatly debilitated.Andrew Jackson.”
“Hermitage, October 24, 1844.
“My dear Mr. Blair: On the 12th inst., I had a return of hemorrhage, and two days after, a chill. With a lancet to correct the first, and calomel to check the second, I amgreatly debilitated.
Andrew Jackson.”
Was not this double quackery? First, it was theSimilia similibus curantur(like cures like), of the homeopathists, which the Academy of Medicine has termed quackery. Second, it was exhibiting calomel to the injury (debilitating) of the patient.
President Harrison was another victim.
Are not these historical facts? Nevertheless, it is treason 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.
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 atradeof theprofession; 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 impostors outside of the profession.
We have not introduced the foregoing facts in the interest of any persuasion. With the bickerings of the various schools of medicine we propose to have nothing to do, except 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, boastfulpretenderto 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 delirious, 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 theyfeared, rapidly worse, Dr. S. was reluctantly called. He was known to be an ignoramus, formerly a peddler, a farmer, horse-jockey, a fifth-rate country lawyer, and, lastly, a doctor. 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 remedy, 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 prescription?” asked a friend, while the doctor was proceeding to deal out a large powder.
“No, no; ahem!Youdo thedyeing, to prevent thedying. 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 followed, 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 applied over the face, arms, and body of the unconscious doctor, 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, checkedthe fever, and, contrary to the hope and expectation of Dr. S., the following morning found his patient in a fine perspiration, 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 take 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 adernier 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 opponent.
“No; not such 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 killing 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 verycuriously; 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 speechless 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 mortifying,” said S.
“O, no; that is merely dyed withnitrate of silver. It’s much better than poke-berries—much better,” repeated Dr. B.
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 hedaredto intimate to the mother. “An older and more experienced physician” succeeded him, who reversed the diagnosis, and pronounced it “a clear case ofdropsy,” and the young M. D. went into disrepute. During the entire winter the old doctor 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’sconvalescent,” was his usual reply, with due professional dignity; and thus the matter stood till a crisis came.
MARRYING A FAMILY.
There was a ball in the village one night. About eleven o’clock a messenger appeared in the room, who hastily summoned a certain young gentleman, a scion of one of the“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 supported a beautiful babe but an hour old, was married to the “convalescent” patient. The old doctor had run a beautiful “bill,” but it was his last in that village.
A Country Consultation.
The difficulty of obtaining competent counsel in the country can only be fully comprehended by the intelligent physician 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 manwas, at my suggestion, added to the consultation, to guard our reputation from the usual visitation of gossiping slander 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 theneighborsdecided 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 patient and fees were both safe, and I was floored.
“‘Of course, Dr. R., you will call whenconvenient,’ 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 theneighborhooddecided to call further aid. Another regular 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 giving 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 bowelswith 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 sensitive 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 absencekilled the child.”
’OPATHISTS IN CONSULTATION.
The following brief consultation occurred in Fulton, N. Y., recently:—
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 ofonepatient. 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 impostors,—I must relate a diverting scene, also from a country 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 invalid—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 declared he was about to shuffle off 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 an adjoining room, and to the abundance of eatables wherewith to refresh the distinguished 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 themselves, 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“banqueting-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 Æsculapians 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?” inquired one of the counsel.
“Dull; distressingly healthy. Why, if there don’t come a windfall in shape of an epidemic this fall, I shallfallshort 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! 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 thehypobadly,” 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 thisexcellent ‘Old Port,’ that he can’t see clearly. Why, that’s a bust ofCupid.”
“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 retiring doctors, he clambered down and ran into the sick room.
A “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 entered 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.
“You must ask the doctor, my son,” replied the father in a feeble voice.
“Hypo,” said the unsuspecting doctor, “is animaginarydisease,—the hypochondria, 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 demonstrated the truth of the assertion by pitching the doctor out of doors.” H. recovered his health. The doctor recovered damages for assault and battery.
CHARLATANS AND IMPOSTORS.
“Every absurdity has a chance to defend itself, for error is always talkative.”—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 OF A WRETCH.
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 OF A WRETCH.
The City Charlatan.
A charlatan is necessarily 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 deception.”
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 impostors. You will find his name in the cheapest daily papers.
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 isprima facieevidence of imposition. Take up the daily paper,—the cheapest print is the one that therabble patronize, a curse to any city,—and run your eye over the “Medical Column.” Of the scores of this class advertising therein none dare publish his real name. There is one impudent fellow, who, while he assumes respectability, and under his true name, has an up-town office, and obtains something bordering on an honorable practice, runs the vilest sort of business, under an assumed name, on a public thoroughfare 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, however; but this is to get the unsuspecting into their dens, for they are shrewd enough to perceive that whatever is “free” the rabble will run after.
CONVINCING EVIDENCE OF INSOLVENCY.
When once the victim is within the web, flattering, intimidations, 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 unfortunate 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 hiscase to thesoi-disantdoctor, who with great sympathy 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 proffered dollar. A small vial of diluted spirits nitre was the prescription, for which the doctor assured the patient he usually received twenty to forty dollars!
I have visited several of these places in disguise, including those of female doctors, and those advertising as “midwives,” every one of whom agreed to perform a criminal operation 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 manuscript 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 urchin 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 conspicuously 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 Irishman 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.’
“He led the way across a small room, and through a darkened 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 were 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’or ‘museums’ fitted up by quack doctors, to intimidate the beholder. I could look no farther, as the door opened, and a man entered, who, looking 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 unceremoniously 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 unwashed face; the same words in the same vernacular language 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 bully 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 before, 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 intirely.’
“‘But he has others with whom he is engaged, you said but a moment ago.’
“‘Ah, yeze niver mind. Theyze ben’t gintlemen like yerself, 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.
“‘It’s all right; now I’ll go for the doctor;’ but still he lingered.
“‘Well, why the d——l 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 gintlemen as yeze gives me. I have a big family to ate at home. There’s Bridget’ (counting his fingers by the way of a reminder), ‘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,’ he replied, 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 christened yit, for we’ve not got the money for Father Prince, and there’s Mike is siven, and Mary is four, and Bridget junior 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 quarter, and told him to hasten the doctor, which request he proceeded 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 myerrand. ‘Having an ulcerated and painful tooth I wish removed, 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.’
“I being sure now of my man, that this same villain was running three offices under as many differentaliases, 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, intimating 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 thistripletdoctor.
“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 individual. 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 aparticeps criminisin the transaction? And with these facts andsuggestions 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 hisnames, 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 firstalias. 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 victimized by him already under his otheraliases.
If he so recognizes you, he summons a convenient “assistant” 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 promises, 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 yourdemise by poisonous compounds given at random, the virulent properties of which the vampires know but little and care less.
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 minerals are oftengivenby these charlatans. I saygiven, 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 criminal practices, and are intended to alarm and corrupt the young and unwary into whose hands they may unfortunately fall.
This fellow, whom I am now to describe, who sometimes prefixes “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 constantly 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 unsophisticated 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 consequent 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. O God! what shall I do?”
“Drown yourself,” replied the tempter.
Such fellows seldom drown. Females, their victims, drown; but who ever heard of a natural-born villain committing 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 charlatan, 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 condescending to notice the poor wretch.
“No,” he sobbed in a pitiful voice.
“Then what do you come here for, sir?” roared thedoctor, whose pity was a thing of the past. His soul was impenetrable 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! Say you will, sir!” and the young man writhed in agony of suspense.
“Humph!” grunted the old doctor, contemplatingly.
Doubtless he was considering the advantages which might accrue from accepting the proposition of this earnest applicant, for, after eying him sharply, and beating the devil’s tattoo for a few moments upon his table, the doctor condescended 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 particular bottle, M. took a mental memorandum thereof till such time as he could take a look at the label, thereby learning 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.
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 anatomical plates (appropriated from Dr. S.), which were admirably 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, thissoi-disant“M. D.” was compelled to retract a former statement that he had attended medical lectures in Pennsylvania College, where he graduated with honors, and come down to the truthful statement,for once in his life, and swear that he had obtained his diploma bypurchase.
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 thebestreception-room; but a few valuable pictures and the Philadelphia diploma are conspicuously displayed above the elegant furniture and valuable articles ofvirtu.
The same extortions and reprehensible practices are still resorted to in order to keep up this “institution.” His earlier history is gathered fromhis own statements, by piecemeal, by a confidential “student,” the latter portion bypersonal investigationof the writer.
Respecting the matter of purchasing diplomas, I will state that I have seen a “Regular Medical Diploma” advertised in the New YorkHeraldfor 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 give it a look of a benevolent character,—even though it be a “Nightengale,” or a “Peabody,” or a “St. Mary,” and managed,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 familiar name of a celebrated New York (also a late Boston) physician and surgeon—who not only cheekily 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 unknown 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 thenovus homo, and the thing goes on under the old name until the new man gains strength and confidence sufficient to carry it along under his own or his assumed title.
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 Æneid:—
“When from the mountain-tops, with hideous cryAnd clattering wings, the filthy harpies fly;Monsters more fierce offending Heaven ne’er sentFrom 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 malevolentbawd!
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 fromthat 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.