Many cases of petty surgery as well as of severe and complicated disease, fell to my lot, which embarra.s.sed me in a manner not unlike the foregoing; though in no one did I suffer quite so much from misrepresentation as in this. For at least twenty years, to my certain knowledge, my patient took pains to speak of me in terms of reproach, and to say that his leg was set badly; and all without the slightest evidence. I do not positively aver, I again say, that the surgery in the case was faultless; but whether it was so or not, neither he nor any living individual could know, unless it were a more skilful surgeon than myself; and no such surgeon, I am sure, ever saw him during the time I was in attendance.

CHAPTER XLII.

DYING FROM MERE FILTHINESS.

The family of a wealthy farmer came under my hands, as physician, one autumn, in circ.u.mstances peculiarly painful and trying. Several of them had been taken suddenly and severely sick, and one or two were almost dead before they were fairly aroused to a sense of danger. They lived, however, quite remote from any village, and were strongly prejudiced against both physicians and medicine. But a fearful foe, in the shape of typhoid dysentery, now a.s.sailed them, and handled them so roughly that they laid aside their prejudices for the moment, and cried aloud for help.

I was soon on the spot, but, oh, what a scene presented itself! As I have more than intimated, two of the family were already beyond hope.

Others seemed likely to die. What was to be done for them, as I saw plainly, must be done quickly. On nearly every countenance I met with, both within the family and beyond its precincts, were the marks of consternation, and on some, of despair.

In these circ.u.mstances--for desperate cases require a desperate remedy--I sought the counsels of an older physician. He came immediately and took a survey of the dreadful field of slaughter. On retiring with him for consultation, he immediately said; "There must be some local cause or causes for all this. Have you," he added, "been into the cellar?" When I replied in the negative, he said, "Then we must go there immediately."

On speaking to the lady of the house, who was among the sick, by the way of asking permission, she objected, and with a good deal of prompt.i.tude and spirit. However, she at length yielded, and we made a thorough examination. The results of this examination were such as to confirm our suspicions. "We need not search further for the causes of a deadly disease," said Dr. B., and I thought so too.

I have said already that the family was wealthy; but wealth need not include negligence, and still more filth. It was now September; and I am quite of opinion that the cellar had not been cleaned in one year, perhaps not in two. I had seen many farmers' cellars before, but I had never seen such an one as this. Nor do I believe my consulting physician ever had, though he was some twenty years older in medical practice than myself. Nor am I certain that what I may state will appear to you wholly reliable.

In the first place there were, in abundance, cabbage leaves and stumps in a semi-putrid state. Next there were decayed potatoes, turnips, beets, and apples. Then there were in various parts of the cellar remnants of cider and vinegar, and cider lees--the latter in a most offensive condition. Finally, there were remnants of barrels of beef and pork, in a bad state--to say nothing of other casual filth--the whole contributing to such a stench as I had never before perceived in a cellar.

The old physician who accompanied me had said, "We need not go farther;"

but our determination was, on full and mature reflection, to know the worst and the whole, and we governed ourselves accordingly.

Close to one corner of the kitchen was the well, the water in which was very low, and near to that the sink. And if the contents of the sink did not find their way, from day to day, into the well, thus adding impurity to putridity, it must have been in virtue of some unknown law which stood opposed to the great law of specific gravity and attraction. It is true that many speak of the earth as having a _cleansing_ power in such cases; but I know of no power which it possesses of cleaning sink water, while the latter is pa.s.sing only five or six feet through it. The coa.r.s.er parts may be strained out, but the essence must remain.[F]

But our work was not yet finished. The vault, greatly neglected, was not far from the well; and so of the pigsty. Nor was it easy to resist the conviction that there was an underground communication between them.

Then, finally, the house instead of standing on an elevation, greater or less,--a very common mode of building in New England,--stood in a sort of concavity, which contained also the barn and barnyard and woodpile;--connected with both of which was a large amount of decayed and decaying animal and vegetable matter.

Now after such a review as this, he who could remain in doubt with regard to the cause of existing disease, especially on its a.s.suming the form of bowel complaint with typhoid tendencies, must be much more ignorant of the laws of health and disease than I was. In fact the signs were unmistakable.

We immediately made our report to the heads of the family, and recommended a most thorough cleansing, at once. It was easy to see that we gave great offence; indeed we had antic.i.p.ated such a result. But we were not at all intimidated. We insisted on a work of immediate expurgation, which was finally effected, only we could not put pure water into the well. But we could and did require that the well water should not be used for any thing except washing clothes.

The result was a decided and almost immediate improvement in the condition of the family, except the two already spoken of, and a very young child. These three died. Some of the rest lingered for weeks, and one or two for months; but they finally recovered.

It is worthy of remark, moreover, that of the people of the neighborhood, though they had been excessively frightened and had not at first dared to come near the house, at least without holding their breath, not a person among them sickened. The disease began and ended over the foul cellar I have mentioned; nor has a similar disease ever since broken out there. The fair presumption is, that they have never since suffered such foul acc.u.mulations to remain through the hot season, on their premises.

My honest and truly honorable course of conduct, in this instance, cost me something. Though I was a means of saving their lives, the survivors never thanked me for the exposure I made of their slovenliness. Perhaps I was wrong in reporting it abroad; but it was next to impossible to conceal the facts; and I, for once, did not attempt it. Physicians sometimes thus stand between the living and the dead, and must expect to give offence. They are, however, in duty bound to keep the secrets of their patients' faults as long as they can, unless the greater good of the public demands an exposition.

But while I lost reputation in this particular family, I have not a doubt that I gained a strong hold, by this adventure, on the public mind and feelings. In truth, despite of even some trifling errors, I deserved it. I had, moreover, during the adventure, acquired a good deal of practical knowledge, of which, in the progress of my course as a medical man, I was glad to avail myself.

This was doubtless an extreme case of disease from filthiness; but cases of the same general character are quite numerous. I have sometimes wished the public could have a history of these cases. There is an immense amount of neglect in the departments of cleanliness and ventilation; and the consequent suffering in the various forms of disease, is in similar degree and proportion.

I will conclude this chapter with a single anecdote, which, were it necessary, could be substantiated by a very great number of living witnesses.

Some fifteen or twenty years ago, a severe disease was accustomed to visit one of our New England factory villages, and to carry off more or fewer of its inhabitants. So regular and certain were its yearly visits and ravages, that not a few were disposed to regard it as a sort of necessary evil, or, perhaps, as a divine infliction. At length a very shrewd old gentleman told the people that the troublesome visitor was of human and not of divine origin; and that if they would attend properly to their cellars, sleeping-rooms, wells, etc., it would no more be heard of. At first, they were disposed to laugh at him; but the matter was talked of and agitated, till a work of general purgation was actually attempted and finally accomplished. The disease has never re-appeared.

Was all this the result of mere accident? Do our diseases spring out of the ground? Are they the result of chance or hap-hazard? or, are they not the heaven-appointed penalties of transgression?

FOOTNOTES:

[F] Farmers, in former times, while making cider, were very slovenly.

When I observed a large amount of filth adhering to their boots and shoes as they carried the pumice from the vat to the press, I thought of the worms, insects, and dust, which were ground up and incorporated with the ma.s.s, I sometimes expressed surprise. "Oh," said they, "the cider will work itself clean!" If so, I thought, and still think, it must be by the operation of some law not yet discovered. It may work itself _clear_, perhaps; but to work itself _clean_, is quite another matter.

CHAPTER XLIII.

TAKING THE FEVER.

A large family, not much more careful of their habits or cleanly about their premises than the family alluded to in the foregoing chapter, had sickened one autumn, and one of them had died. Anxious to save the rest, I again acted as physician and nurse both, and effected my object; or, at least, appeared to do so. The rest of my patients ultimately recovered.

But while thus watching these patients, by night and day, standing in the very front of the battle, I suddenly sickened. The circ.u.mstances, as nearly as I can recollect them, were the following:----

Among the sick of this afflicted family was one unmarried man of rather eccentric and very unsociable habits, and exceedingly negligent both of his person and dress. His linen, and I think also his bed-clothes, were hardly changed once a month; at least as long as he was well. And then he had, of course, extended the same neglect to his sick chamber. Added to this, moreover, was a species of _necessity_ at this juncture; for so much distressed were the family, and so difficult was it to procure aid in the neighborhood, that a part of the neglect to which our old bachelor was subjected seemed unavoidable.

I took notice of the neglect, spoke of it repeatedly, and labored a.s.siduously to correct the evil. But the case seemed an almost forlorn one. I was morally obliged, as I then felt, to do a thousand things for him that usually fall to the lot of nurses and a.s.sistants. In some instances, I pa.s.sed even whole nights in the family, in attendance on him and the other sick persons.

My task was the more severe from the fact that a similar fever was prevailing in other parts of the town, and my labors beyond the precincts of this family were exceedingly fatiguing and severe. In truth, I was, in the end, greatly overworked and debilitated, and my system most admirably prepared for the reception of disease.

For various reasons, some of which, have already been named, I often a.s.sisted in turning my bachelor-patient in his foul bed. It is true the process was so offensive that I avoided it whenever I could; but on occasions, I yielded to the pressure of necessity.

One night, when I was greatly fatigued and exhausted, and at the bottom of my condition,--utterly unfit for exertion, even in a pure atmosphere,--I was stooping over Mr. V., to turn him in his bed, when I suddenly felt a sensation like that of receiving a blow externally on the chest and stomach. The thought struck me as quickly as the imaginary blow did--have I not taken the disease? I knew the laws of contagion; the only question was whether any contagion had been generated. My opinion was to the contrary; nevertheless, I could not wholly suppress my fears.

A sensation of oppression which followed the imaginary blow, soon gradually pa.s.sed away, though I felt, each succeeding day, more and more debilitated. Many a resolution was made to leave my patients, so far as personal manual care was concerned, and be much more than I had been, in the open air, though it was only made for a time--to be broken. At length, however, principle prevailed over sympathy and inclination, and I did as I ought to have done long before. It was, however, rather late, for the die was already cast. I was taken sick, and the symptoms of my disease were precisely like those of Mr. V.

Perceiving now, most clearly, my condition, and that I was engaged in a war from which there could be no discharge, I made preparation for a long and severe sickness. First, I calmly and deliberately adjusted all my domestic concerns of a pecuniary kind, and made such arrangements as would, in case of my demise, render every thing intelligible. Then, in the second place, I made up my mind to submit, as cheerfully as I could, to my condition. I determined to keep quiet, and not indulge for a moment in any undue anxiety. I employed a physician,--my old master--but steadfastly, and almost obstinately determined not to take much medicine;--nor was there much prescribed.

My disease proved to be much milder than was expected; but it had its regular course. I never wholly lost my muscular strength or my appet.i.te.

While I was sick, several of my nearest friends and patrons sickened in a similar way, only more severely; and one or two of them died. On my recovery, however, or about the same time, the most of them began also to recover, and the disease in general abated.

Now, when I came to reflect coolly and carefully on the whole affair, I could not help perceiving that I richly deserved all I suffered. It was the just penalty of transgression. I had been fully and repeatedly warned not to watch with my patients, as those who turn back to Chapter XXIII, and those too who remember its contents, will perceive. It was fit, therefore, that I should feel the rod, even if I could not kiss the hand that had appointed it. The only wonder with me now is, that my punishment was not more severe.

CHAPTER XLIV.

BLESSINGS OF CIDER AND CIDER BRANDY.

Some of these blessings have been alluded to in Chapter x.x.xVI. But the subject is one of too much importance to be left in an unfinished state, and I have concluded to make it the princ.i.p.al topic of a separate chapter.

A man came to me, one day, with sundry grievous complaints about his head and stomach. It was easy to see, at once, that they were not of mushroom growth, and that they could not be removed either in an hour or a day. However, I did the best I could with him, and charged him to follow, implicitly, my directions, which he promised faithfully to do. I told him, even, that he was in danger of a severe disease, but counselled him to do his utmost to escape it, if possible.

He was, in the first place, a New England or Yankee farmer. Not quite satisfied with the products of his farm from the labors of the day, he coupled with them the night labors of managing a saw-mill and a distillery. And not satisfied with even these, he sometimes burned charcoal, which also involved more or less of nocturnal labor. In truth, these employments and avocations kept him up a great many nights during a considerable portion of the year, and were evidently wearing him out prematurely; for, though less than forty years of age, he had the appearance of being fifty or sixty.