The Funny Side of Physic Part 24

The same extortions and reprehensible practices are still resorted to in order to keep up this "inst.i.tution." His earlier history is gathered from _his own statements_, by piecemeal, by a confidential "student," the latter portion by _personal investigation_ of the writer.

Respecting the matter of purchasing diplomas, I will state that I have seen a "Regular Medical Diploma" advertised in the New York _Herald_ for 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 "_inst.i.tutes_," 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 a.s.sumed 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 a.s.sumes the t.i.tles 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 t.i.tles are blazoned forth daily in the public prints.

Men get rich in these "inst.i.tutes," take in an "a.s.sistant" for a few weeks, then sell out to the _novus h.o.m.o_, 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 a.s.sumed t.i.tle.

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 princ.i.p.al 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 aeneid:--

"When from the mountain-tops, with hideous cry And clattering wings, the filthy harpies fly; Monsters more fierce offending Heaven ne'er sent From h.e.l.l'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 Hamps.h.i.+re. 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 s.p.a.ce 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 Hamps.h.i.+re, 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, coa.r.s.e 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 a.s.sured 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 advertis.e.m.e.nt 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 p.r.o.nounced her case hopeless, advised her to "close up her worldly affairs, and make her peace with G.o.d 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 quant.i.ties 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 acc.u.mulated a considerable property as midwife; but if report, and a.s.sertions 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 cla.s.s, 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 advertis.e.m.e.nts 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 cla.s.s of male pract.i.tioners, not unusually having a Latin diploma, who never appear in the prints. They are the "Nurse Gibbon"

cla.s.s, 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 Pen.o.bscot 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 pa.s.sing 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. _Hepat.i.tis, c.u.m 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 neuropathic.u.m-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 antic.i.p.ation 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."