Address on Medicine—Medi- cal New York in 1800. BY •JOHN SHRADY, M. D., OF NEW YORK COUNTY. REPRINTED PROM TRANSACTIONS OF ®he Ifaftr gorh Ittebiral gissociation. 1889. ADDKESS ON MEDICINE. MEDICAL NEW YORK IN 1800. By John Shrady, M. D., of New York County. The present century dawned upon this city when the na- tion was in gloom. Washington, not many days before, had rounded out his symmetrical career with a death which touched the popular heart. John Adams was in the presi- dential chair; society was in its formative stage ; partisan- ship was bitter; and the memory of a great struggle was still green. The city was sulking over the loss of the seat of the general government, which travelled by way of Philadelphia, and at last, in December, 1800, found a haven in Washington. Why should there not have been turmoil ? for, says an annal- ist, “ The great lawyers of that day were statesmen, and the great statesmen were lawyers,—Clinton, Hamilton, Burr, Jay, Livingston, Duane : it was so almost in every case.” Immi- gration had not yet begun with its sweeping tide ; the Eng- lish and Dutch stock, in spite of frequent intermarriages, had not yet become thoroughly amalgamated.1 The epithet, Tory, with many, was the word of greatest reproach ; Hessian was a grade lower in the vocabulary; while the Revolutionary patriots, some of whom were in the sere and yellow leaf, were growing to be the idols of the day. The populace had hardly yet lost its awe of rank, which was now obliged to be content with wearing the more humble mask of respectability. Yet men consented to be led, and accepted conclusions if they only had the glamour of a great name. They had gained 1The last sermon in Dutch was said to have heen preached in 1803, and church contro- versies over the language of devotion invariably ended in favor of the English. 2 liberty, it is true, but it seemed a legacy as unwieldy as it was unexpected. An air of mystery surrounded the teacher of polysyllabic sciences ; and medicine, the art nearest to the human heart, imbibed the temper of the times. The city, with its advantages for commerce, was beginning to show signs of its future greatness ; it already had luxurious tastes, but willingly worked hard for what it deluded itself into be- lieving were merely comforts ; and, meanwhile, the nuclei of colossal fortunes were begun, with a marvellous foresight. Robert Lenox, John Jacob As tor, and John G. Coster worked not for naught, though they worked with patience and in silence. The Irish revolutionary struggle of 1798 brought many additions to the shores; and the Palatines, the first of the German immigrants, with memories of Marshal Tu- renne and their smoking villages, were beginning to pass into the second generation. The hardy Swiss also brought their thrift, their patience, and their sagacity. There was also a leaning affection toward the French, and a copying of their Jacobin clubs, which began in a movement that ended in making Jefferson the third president of the sixteen-state confederation. The knee-breeches, cocked hats, and silver buckles had begun to give way to the red waistcoat and French pantaloon, and the very children began to omit, not unwillingly, their ceremonious courtesies to strangers. An- archy had virtually come ; but it came to a safe race, with a Saxon strain and a Saxon sense of justice. There was a trembling, but no upheaval. All felt that it was the world’s last grand experiment of personal liberty; that man was to be trusted only once more. The over-topping spirit of party, which forbade friendship, and which, as ever, resorted to slander, culminated at length with the disgrace of Burr and the death of Hamilton upon the field of honor. There was a shudder, a pause, and then the flame shot up again. To repeat, this was an age of controversy, of fierce politics, and of unyielding dogmatism, in which the leaders were intoler- ant, arrogant, and aggressive. In medicine, the methods of Galen rather than of Hippoc- 3 rates prevailed, and there was more art than science. Theory ruled the day, and, worse than all, there were but few pio- neers first to doubt, and then to investigate. Men like Mitch- ell and Hosack, seeking to be leaders in everything while adroitly concealing their occasional superficiality, won the admiration of gaping followers. They gave conclusions, not facts: consequently there were many corrupted streams of medical doctrine. Physicians as a body talked learnedly but confusedly of Stahl, Hoffman, Boerhaave, Von Heller, and Cullen. They prated about nature, rational soul, inert prac- tice, plethora, and depraved humors, but bled invariably and without grudging. Venesection was the fashion of the day, its omission was a sin. At that time there were no laboratories for chemical and physiological inquiry, no accessible collection of anatomical specimens, and certainly no medical library of importance.1 Therapy rather than aetiology was the aim of all teaching, and it is fair to presume that blackboard formulas were rife. In those days Sangrado had his torments of conscience, but they were on the line of unfulfilled duty lest he had not taken sufficient blood or given enough warm water. As regards practice, the medical historiographer has not much to pre- sent. General laws based upon what were called general principles were given the burthen of responsibility, disease being regarded as an entity; and it is curious to know how opinion has retroceded to the doctrine of Boerhaave, that the acrimony of the fluids, as disturbing causes, required to be neutralised by chemical remedies. It was this which kept cal- omel in the pharmacopoeia ; it is essentially this which has crowned its chemical cousin with later honors. Can we say that none were right because both sides of the shield were not seen ? At all events there was the recognition of a cer- tain power, although the form was unknown ; there was vis- ion, indeed, but it was “ through a glass darkly.” A list of the physicians as found in the Directory of 1800 1 The library of the New York hospital claimed a catalogue of 1,500 volumes, and many of these were, probably, valuable on the score of their antiquity only. 4 is herewith presented. Of some, nothing can and very likely ever will be knoAvn, while others stand out in bold relief. Anderson, Anthony L., 461 Pearl st. Apple, Conrad, surgeon, 9 Murray st. Anthon, Geo., m. d., 11 Broad st. Bach, Robt., 128 Pearl. Bainbridge, Absalom, 36 Pine. Ball, Isaac, physn. and man midwife, 40 Chambers. Bartlett, Wm., physn. and druggist, 59 Catharine. Bartlett, William, Bedlow st. Bayley, Richd., health officer, 37 Greenwich st. Birch, Joshua E. R., physn., 16 Beekman st. Bouvier, Julian, physn., 291 Broadway. Bradhurst, Sam’l, “ 345 Washington. Brower, Abrm., physn. and druggist, 181 Greenwich st. Brown, Joseph, 107 Liberty. Cazavan, T., French physn., 45 Chapel. Charleton, John, “ 34 Broadway. Clark, 34 Pine st. Clarke, James, m. d., 2 Vesey st. Corner, Richd., physn., 36 Water st. Coventry, J. H., “ 99 Green. Cowan, Barnet, “ 5 Thames, h. Bowery. Cowan, John Nevil, 61 John st. Dalmas, C., physn. and apothecary, 2 Robinson. Decarendeffez, Odo, physn. and chymist, Pump st. Degray, Michael, physn. and apothecary, 8 Catharine. Dickson, William, “ 360 Broadway. Dubois, Elisha, “ 13 Barclay st. Faugeres, Lewis, physn. and druggist, 79 John. Field, Josiah H., “ “ “ 82 Water st. Fleming, Samuel, “ 60 Wall st. Gamage, John, “ 20 John st. Hamersley, William, physn., 6 Cortland st. Helyes, Jean M., “ 10 Murray st. Hicks, Benjn., “ 62 Chambers st. Hicks & Son, John “ No. 1 Magazine. Hitchcock, Daniel M., “ 317 Pearl. Hosack, Alexr., Junr. “ Pine, cor. Nassau. Hosack, David, “ 65 Broadway. Hunter, James, Indian Doctor, First st. Irving Peter, physn. and druggist, 208 Broadway. Jackson, James, m. d., 4 Water st. Johnson, Ephraim, physn., Orange. Jones, Gardiner, “ 20 Dey st. Kinslay, Apollos, “ Corlaers Hook. Kissam, Benjn., “ 159 Broadway. Kissam, Richard S., surgeon, 45 Partition. Lawrence, James, m. r>., Elizabeth near Bayard. Lawrence, William, physn., 19 Cherry. Lebaunier, “ 70 Chambers. Lester, Andrew, “ 97 Chambers. 5 Lewis, S. I., physn., 42 Maiden Lane and 308 Greenwich. Lord, Daniel, “ 77 Water st. Lord, Silas, “ 70 Vesey st. Lozier, Nicholas, “ 161 Greenwich. Luckfildt, G., “ 265 Broadway. Lyon, Matthias C., physn., 64 Cortlandt. Martin, Joseph, physn., Upper Road. McLean, Hugh, m. d., cor. Beekman and Nassau. M’Intosh, William, physn. and druggist, 154 William M’Kinery, man-midwife and dentist, 17 Chambers. Miller, Edward, m. d., 116 Liberty st. Mitchell, Samuel Latham, m. d., E. Rutger near Cherry. Moore, Wm., m. d., 21 Nassau. Morton, Andrew, physn., 5 Frankfort. Nesbit, Samuel, Sr. “ 452 Pearl. Onderdonk, John, 57 John. Peck, David, physn. and apothecary, 331 Water. Platt, Epenetus, physn., 74 Harman. Post, Jotham, Jr., m. d., 28 Dey st. Post, Wright, surgeon, 27 Wall and 20 William. Proudfit, Daniel, m. d., 2 Pine st. Rice, Henry, m. d., 4 Frankfort. Riddle, John, physn., 448 Pearl. Rodgers, John R. B., m. d., 9 Nassau. Romayne, Nicholas, “ Corlaers Hook. Roorbach, Barnet, “ 65 Maiden Lane. Seaman, Valentine, “ 88 Beekman. Snedeker, I., physn. and surgn., Barley cor. L. Ann. Stevenson, John, physn., 171 Division. Stringham, James S., “ 460 Pearl st. Till ary, James, “ 86 Broadway. Torbart, Samuel, m. d., 1 Harmon. Tripp, Lott, physn., 304 Pearl. Vanbeuren, Beekman M., physn., Bowery. Vangelder, Abraham A., “ L. Catharine. Van Solingen, Henry M., “ 29 Maiden Lane. Walters, Daniel D., “ 49 Cherry st. Ward, Timothy, - “ 94 Reed st. Watson, Abraham, “ 63 Reed or 50 Chapel. Wheeler, Samuel, “ 388 Pearl. Willet, Jesse, “ Harrison. Wilson, “ 5 Frankfort. Wilson, John, “ 42 Rutger. Zeiss, John W., “ 127 Chatham. When this City Directory of 1800 was printed, Daniel Drake, Benj. W. Dudley, and Valentine Mott were each fifteen years old; Benj. Rush, then fifty-five, was treasurer of the United States Mint in Philadelphia, enjoying as no other man the honors of physician, author, and statesman. In England, Edward Jenner was fifty-one years old, and 6 beginning to forestall a little of his world-wide fame. John Hunter had been dead seven years, but had left a record of unflinching toil and a priceless legacy of facts. William Hunter, his brother, older by ten years, had preceded him to the grave ten years, and Marshall Hall was only ten years old. John Abernethy was in his thirty-sixth year, and Sir Astley Cooper was four years his junior. Of all these, the last two made the most indelible impress upon the surgical opinion of the English-speaking world. In France, Alexis Boyer, not yet a baron of the empire, was about forty-three, the author of a four-volume work on anatomy, a professor of surgery, hospital lecturer, and medi- cal journalist. Dominique Jean Larrey was only thirty-four, with honors in prospect as great as unsuspected; and, great- est of all, Xavier Bichat, the biologist, not yet thirty, and within only two years of the close of his brilliant career. Laennec was only nineteen, and, of course, had not yet begun to wield the stethoscope, the very instrument which warned him of his own fate. In Germany, there was undoubtedly made a progress like unto that of other countries, but its records were inaccessible through the want of translations, and, beside, its school had not at all become dominant. It may be premised that many of the following sketches have been projected into a period beyond the proper chronol- ogy ; but this has been essential, in order that the times might be delineated as affected by the dramatis personae. Anderson, Alexr., son of a Scotchman who published “The Constitutional Gazette,” was born April 21, 1775, and died January 17, 1870. He lost all his family by the yellow- fever epidemic of 1798, >vhich destroyed 2,036 persons. He was himself attacked by the disease, while in attendance upon the physician with whom he studied, and who had been pros- trated by it. Both recovered, and Anderson made a voyage to the West Indies, to visit a paternal uncle after whom he was named, and who was “ the king’s botanist ” at St. Yin- 7 cent. On his return, he no longer fought against his youth- ful, nay, childish, tastes, and became the pioneer wood en- graver of America. A medical graduate of Columbia college in 1796, his thesis was on “Chronic Mania.” His name does not appear in the Directory, although probably in the city or in the vicinity at this date, or soon after. Perhaps, also, he may have already sailed for the West Indies. A diary of his, comprising his daily doings during the years 1795-98, is still preserved. Anderson, Anthony L., of Scottish birth or lineage, now aged about thirty years, was entering upon his industrious career. He subsequently became exceedingly popular as an obstetrician, gradually rescuing that branch of the medical art from the midwives, with whom the city abounded. He was not much of an attendant upon the societies, but was called very frequently as a consultant during the latter part of his life, even while a victim of some form of paralysis. He was a man of conservative views, believed very little in the power of drugs, and advocated “ good air and good food, as being God’s tonics.” Anthon, Geo. C., was the father of Charles, the famous Greek and Latin professor of Columbia, John, a leading law- yer, and Henry, the eloquent and genial rector of St. Mark’s —now all dead. He was a German, of the Duchy of Saxe- Meiningen, and his wife was a French Canadian. He was born in August, 1T34, was graduated in medicine at Amster- dam, served the Dutch West India Company, sailed for Suri- nam in South America, was captured by a privateer, was appointed by Lord Amherst garrison surgeon at New York, was transferred to Detroit where he rose to be a surgeon- general, was captured by the Indians, conveyed down the Mississippi, and was afterward heard of at Pittsburgh. At the end of the Revolutionary war he came, in 1784, to New York, where he died in December, 1815. He was an es- teemed authority on yellow-fever, and, although possessed of 8 ability, allowed his name to pass down to posterity as a mere tradition. Bard, Samuel, was the son of Dr. John Bard, who died March 30,1799. “He was,” observes Dr. Valentine Mott, in a compensatory kind of way, “ small in stature and hard- featured, but exemplary as a man and a Christian.” He began practice in 1766, had a large experience, and in his day was considered the soundest physician in the city. He obtained his degree in Edinburgh, and attended Washington, as also did his father. In manners he was austere, but as dig- nified as a Commencement president. His titular history was, —Edinburgh, M. D., 1765; Coll, of N. J., LL.D., 1815; Prof, of Theory and Practice of Physic in Col. College; physician to New York hospital. He was known to attend cases in the city, although the name of neither father nor son appeared in the Directory after 1797, at which time their common resi- dence was 98 William street. Bayley, Richard, in 1781 published his letters addressed to Dr. William Hunter on “Angina Trachealis,” and subse- quently a history of “ The Yellow-Fever at New York in 1795.” He attempted, in this latter treatise, to draw dis- tinctions between the terms contagion and infection. Dr. Bayley had a fine anatomical collection in the New York hospital, which was heaped into carts and burned to ashes in the Doctors’ Riot of 1788. He married a sister of Dr. Charle- ton; was prominent and public-spirited. He died in August, 1801, while health officer of the port of New York, with a reputation as authority on matters of quarantine. Judging from a portrait in the possession of the New York Historical Society, he was a man of singular beauty of countenance. Bradhurst, Samuel, was subsequently one of the trus- tees of the College of Physicians and Surgeons. Charleton, John, who enjoys the unique honor of hav- ing been the first physician in the city who used a gig, is 9 described as an Englishman, once in the British service, and as having been much at the court of George the Third. He was short in stature, with a florid face, of somewhat pompous manners, and fond of horseback exercise. He says of him- self that he practised physic here since 1762, that he resided on Long Island five years of the war, and returned to the city in 1781. He had a fashionable practice, and is credited with having died possessed of considerable means. He mar- ried Mary De Peyster, daughter of Treasurer Abraham and Margaret Van Cortlandt De Peyster. De Gray, Michael, was of Irish birth, and, according to tradition, had a son, also a physician, who died young. The father, who was a small man, tried his fortune in the West, but returned to the city disgusted. Hicks, John, was on duty in the General hospital as one of the “ Established Mates ” during the British occupation of the city, as late as 1783. His war superior was John Mervin Nooth, superintendent-general. Hamersley, William, “a graduate of Edinburgh, a man of talent, a logical and eloquent expounder of the theories of the day, but irascible in temper, eccentric in his habits and manner of teaching, and an indifferent practitioner. He was an honest man.”1 Hosack, David, was born in the city of New York, Au- gust 31, 1769. His father, a Scotchman, came to America with Lord Jeffrey Amherst, upon the siege of Louisburg. His mother was the daughter of Francis Arden, of New York. He was educated at Columbia college and at Princeton; re- ceived his medical degree at Philadelphia in 1791; visited the schools of Edinburgh and London, where he wrote a paper on “ Vision,” which was published in the Transactions of the Royal Society in 1794; and on his return to New York filled the professorship of botany and materia medica in Co- 1 Dr. Valentine Mott. 10 lumbia college. In the new College of Physicians and Sur- geons he taught physic and clinical medicine, and was en- gaged in the short-lived Rutgers Medical College. He was eminent as a clinical instructor. He engaged with Dr. John W. Francis in the publication of the “ Medical and Philo- sophical Register.” His “ Medical Essays ” were published in three octavo volumes, 1824-’30. His “ System of Practi- cal Nosology ” was published in 1829, and in an improved form in 1831. He wrote discourses on horticulture, on tem- perance, biographical notices of Rush and Wistar, and a memoir in quarto of De Witt Clinton. The style of these productions is elegant, but there is a reminder of the click of the swinging pendulum. Samuel Johnson, for him at least, had not lived in vain; there were present in his literary efforts the same artistic antitheses and the same rounded periods. To Hosack there was no English but that of John- son. From 1820 to 1828 he was president of the New York His- torical Society. A posthumous publication on “The Prac- tice of Physic,” edited by Dr. H. W. Ducachet, one of his pupils, appeared in 1838. He was a man of imposing pres- ence, with piercing black eyes, a sonorous voice, and digni- fied manners. He read his lectures, and insisted upon the strictest discipline in the class-room. “ Hosack was for more than thirty years a prominent med- ical practitioner in New York, and, fond of society, exercised a strong personal influence in the city. The Duke of Saxe- Weimar, in his travels in America, in 1825, mentions the social importance of his Saturday evening parties, where the professional gentlemen of the city and distinguished foreign- ers were liberally entertained. In all prominent movements connected with the arts, the drama, medical and other local institutions, and the state policy of internal improvements, Hosack bore a part. “ He was twice married,—in the first instance to a sister of Thomas Eddy, the benevolent Quaker at the head of the hos- pitals and charitable institutions of the city. By his second 11 wife, the widow of Henry A. Coster, he became possessed of a large income. “ Dr. Hosack died of an attack of apoplexy, at his residence in Chambers street, New York, December 23, 1835.’u Irving, Peter, was an older brother of Washington Ir- ving, who subsequently edited the “Morning Chronicle,” which supported Jefferson and, particularly, Burr. He was born in 1771, and died in 1888, and at this time was, accord- ingly, only twenty-nine years old. He never paid much attention to practice. Kissam, Benjamin, a graduate of Edinburgh, was the son of Benjamin (the lawyer) and Catharine (Rutgers) Kissam. He was professor of the “ Institutes of Medicine ” in Colum- bia college from 1785 to 1792, trustee of the college, vestry- man of Trinity church, etc. Kissam, Richard S., a younger brother of the above, was also educated at Edinburgh. The Kissams were nephews of Samuel Kissam, who received the first medical degree given in America. Miller, Edward. Dr. Valentine Mott, in speaking of him, says that he was a voluminous writer, and “ on the sub- ject of yellow-fever was an eminent authority. He strongly supported the theory of non-contagion, in direct opposition to Dr. Hosack.” He was of middle stature, very handsome, wore powder, and was singularly neat in his attire; a bach- elor—in manner peculiarly mild and bland. He died, March 17, 1812, of some acute affection of the chest, leaving an enviable and enduring reputation. He was at this time about forty years old. Mitchell, Samuel Latham, now thirty-six years old, described in a biographical sketch as “ a man of great versa- tility, a charming companion, and an accomplished man of 1 Chiefly from the memoir, by Dr. J. W. Francis, in Williams’s “ American Medical Biography,” as quoted by the Cyclopaedia of American Literature, Vol. 1, p. 574. 12 the world. As a publicist and a devotee of science, he was unrivalled among the New York men of the day.” 1 He wrote floridly, quoted Latin, the language in which his thesis was written, and made frequent classical allusions. The poet Drake said of him,— “ It matters not how high or low it is, Thou knowest each hill and vale of knowledge.” And, again, Halleck, that smoothest of all our satirists, wrote in his bubbling way,— “ Time was when Dr. Mitchell’s word was law,— When monkeys, monsters, whales, and Esquimaux Asked but a letter from his ready hand, To be the theme and wonder of the land.” “ He was a polished orator, versifier, and poet, a man of infinite humor and excellent fancy.”2 As a Columbia college professor, he published the system of Lavoisier, and was irreverently dubbed “ Plogobombus ” by the wits of the day. At the date of the Directory before us he was scarcely to be regarded as a member of the profession, as during the year he was elected a representative in the 7th congress of the United States, was wealthy by marriage, and far above the drudgeries of practice. He was probably a universal special- ist, plus a little smattering of practical medicine, which he may have displayed with the pomp of a drum-major. Rodgers, J. R. B., the father of Dr. J. Kearney Rodgers, was in person small, graceful, had a face of extreme interest, and was of very accomplished manners. He was a graduate of Edinburgh, a practitioner of eminence, and particularly skilled in his own department (obstetrics). McLean, Hugh, was born about 1777, and therefore just about entering upon the duties of his profession. He died 1 History of the New York Academy of Sciences. Fairchild. Published by the author. Art Age Press, New York. 1887. 2 “ Magazine of American History,” for September, 1886. Article on “The New York Historical Society.” 13 August 13, 1846, with the reputation of a long and faithful service in the city dispensary. Moore, William, received his medical degree from the Edinburgh Royal College of Ph}Tsicians in 1780, and was somewhere about forty-five years of age at the date of the Directory. He was an honorary member of the Royal Society of Physicians of Edinburgh, and at one time filled the presi- dential chair of the New York County Medical Society. He died in April, 1824. Nesbit, Samuel, Sr., “ a native of Great Britain, and assistant surgeon in His Britannic Majesty’s service in the years 1764 to 1769.” At least, so reads his autographic rec- ord in the minute book of the Medical Society of the County of New York. He was at this time in his fifty-fourth year. Onderdonk, John, on the authority of a monumental inscription, was “born August 22, 1768, and died August 23, 1832.” He was accordingly in the thirty-second year of his age. He seems to have been quite active in medical society matters. Post, Wright, the son of a prosperous butcher, was tall, handsome, and of fashionable exterior, wore long whiskers, kept his hair powdered, turned back, and tied in a queue. “Those who recollect his thin, worn figure in his later years, wrapped in a furred surtout,” continues Dr. Valentine Mott, in his Reminiscences, “ could scarcely have recognised in him the elegant gentleman of the early days.” Dr. Post had at this time attained to the very highest rank in his profession, both as physician and surgeon, and although equalled in the extent and renown of his surgical practice by his distin- guished colleague in the New York hospital, Dr. R. S. Kis- sam, he stood, perhaps, alone in its lucrative practice, and in the confidence of the higher walks of society. He was un- rivalled as an anatomist, a most admirable dissector, and one of the most luminous and perspicuous teachers ever listened 14 to, either at home or abroad. His manners were grave and dignified; he seldom smiled, and never trifled with the seri- ous and responsible duties in which he was engaged, and which no man ever more solemnly respected. His delivery was precise, slow, and clear, and peculiarly adapted to the advancement of the junior portion of the class. He was one of the first American pupils (preceding Dr. Physick) of the celebrated John Hunter, of London, from whose lips, and those of Mr. Shelton, he imbibed those principles of practice which he afterward so ably and usefully applied. As an operator, he was careful, slow, elegant, and equal to any emergency. Two great achievements are upon record to attest his pow- ers. He was the first in this country to tie successfully, on the Hunterian principles, the femoral artery for popliteal aneurysm. The other was a case of ligature of the subclavian artery above the clavicle, without the scaleni muscles, for an aneurysm of the brachial, involving the axilla. The patient came from New Haven, in company with his physician, Dr. Gilbert. The aneurysm was cracked and oozing, and supr ported by layers of adhesive plaster. This operation never had been performed in this country before, and but once in Europe, and then unsuccessfully, by its first projector, Mr. Ramsden, of St. Bartholomew’s hospital, London. In this operation the American needle for the ligature of deep seated arteries was first used in this city. Dr. Post was equally eminent as a physician, and, for strict punctuality and courtesy toward his juniors, and a scrupu- lous regard for truth, was never exceeded. After a career of forty years as a Professor of Anatomy, he retired into private professional life, in which he continued active, with occa- sional intervals of ill-health, until his death, in the sixty- fourth year of his age.1 Prince, Benjamin, was a member, after this period, of the Medical Society of the County of New York. 1 Condensed from sketch by Dr. Valentine Mott. 15 Proudfit, Daniel, was an Edinburgh graduate. Roberts, Owen,1 a Welshman who settled in New York in 1798. He practised medicine until he died, in 1817, leav- ing a wife, four boys, and a little property. The youngest son was the well known Marshall Owen Roberts, born in Oliver street, March 22, 1811. Romayne, Nicholas, “ a man of much eloquence and talent, wealthy, and indifferent to the active duties of his profession,” says Dr. Valentine Mott, “but eager for its ad- vancement and that of the interests of medical science. In person he was tall and handsome, but extremely fleshy. He lectured extemporaneously, with fluency and effect.” He had a clannish regard for those of Holland descent, and spoke the language of his ancestors with no little purity of idiom, and still greater pride. He had at least a leading share in the organisation of the College of Physicians and Surgeons, of the Medical Society of the State of New York, and of the Medical Society of the County of New York. He was the first president of the three bodies. His thesis at his gradua- tion in Edinburgh, “ De Puris Generatione,” with dedications in Latin to distinguished physicians and laymen, has come down to our day, a monument of the learning of those who received their medical degrees from that renowned university. Seaman, Valentine, was a member of the Society of Friends, and the first regularly educated man of that com- munity in New York. With Dr. Edward Miller he engaged in clinical instruction in the New York hospital in 1801, Dr. Seaman taking the surgical and Dr. Miller the medical side. This was the first attempt made to give clinical surgical instruction. He introduced vaccination, not without violent opposition. Stringham, James S., a native of New York, obtained his degree from Edinburgh in 1799, Black, o'f Edinburgh, 1 Name not in the 1800 Directory. 16 being his preceptor. “ He was,” says Dr. J. W. Francis, “ the first teacher of Medical Jurisprudence in this country. He was distinguished for his admirable course of instruction, which, though embraced in some twelve lectures, imparted with great clearness the leading doctrines in forensic medi- cine.” Tillary, James, a Scotchman, educated in Edinburgh, physician of the St. Andrew’s Society, which still exists, and member of the Royal Medical and Physical Society of Edin- burgh, died here about 1815. As a commentary on the pro- portions of the mail service and the doctor’s political impor- tance, it may be stated that the post-office once occupied his residence on the corner of Broadway and Wall street, it having been removed there during the yellow-fever epidemic of a few years previous. Van Beuren, Beekman M., was the son of Abraham Van Beuren, a former physician to the almshouse, to which office he himself succeeded. Beekman’s grandfather, John, emigrated to New York about the year 1700, from Beuren, near Amsterdam. This John was a graduate of Leyden. Dr. Wm. H. Van Buren, the son-in-law of Dr. Valentine Mott, was a descendant of this family. Van Solingen, Henry M., was a graduate of Queen’s college, Medical department, in 1792. He was probably a descendant of Johannes Van Solingen, who settled in the city in 1728. Walters, Daniel D., kept a drug store at 210 Chatham street, corner of Doyers, which was the ancestor of the almost historical house of Adamson & Olliffe, of No. 6 Bowery, the only store, according to old-timers, where “ pure drugs ” could be obtained. This Dr. Walters seems not to have obtained his medical degree until 1804, his Alma Mater being Colum- bia college. 17 Wheeler, Samuel, probably came from the East, as the minutes of the Medical Society of the County of New York make him a member of the Medical Society of Vermont. Watkins, Samuel, was an alumnus of Queen’s college, Medical department, class of 1793, and therefore yet young in practice. Zeiss, John William, late of the Military hospital of Hesse Cassel, came over with the Hessian troops; was a small man, exceedingly myopic, who lived to an old age in the enjoyment of a great reputation among the German portion of the population. He came here a widower, with two daughters, married again more than once, and lived in 1800 at 127 Chatham street, probably as the proprietor of a drug- store, which tradition credits him with having kept during a portion of his life. He must have been in esteem with his fellow-practitioners, as he joined the medical society of the county in 1806, and was a trustee of the College of Physicians and Surgeons, New York, from 1808 to 1811. By an inspection of the list just given, it will be found that Amsterdam capitulated to Edinburgh, and that as a consequence the almost psychical theories of the Dutch had yielded to the anatomical facts of the Scotch. An intensely practical age hailed the change. Not all who practised were qualified by competent authority, although a few not thus empowered imparted some little eclat to their calling, even maintaining a degree of respectability in the face of its patri- cian leaders. Some of these men worked in silence, with modesty, and in the spirit of self-abasement; they contrib- uted to the general fund of knowledge, but not in a perma- nent way. They may have been better practitioners than those who sought an outlet for their ambitions in side issues. These, in fact, may have made up the army, which made, in turn, the generals. Perhaps, too, to use a commercial simile, their names do not appear upon the ledger, since they were really out of debt to their generation. If the mode of treat- 18 ing disease was somewhat heroic, as in the case of yellow- fever, which was fought with cathartics, emetics, and with Peruvian bark for the remissions, there comes the extenuation that much stress was laid upon sthenic forms of disease, and that these routine measures were the only trustworthy meth- ods of elimination. Their diagnoses, based, as they were, upon rational rather than upon physical grounds, were in many instances marvels of correctness. Upon this last fact the late Dr. Alonzo Clark was wont to comment with the most pronounced emphasis. From the following compact passed at a meeting of the Medical Society of the State of New York, held in the city hall ye 13th day of January, 1801, an idea may be had of the charges at that period: We, the subscribers, practitioners of physic and surgery in the city of New York, do agree upon the following rates of charges, for our profes- sional services, from and after the first day of July, 1798, agreeably to which rates we do recommend our bills to be presented every six months, or oftener, if circumstances permit: Verbal advice 5 00 A letter of advice . . . . . . ' . 10 00 An ordinary visit 1 00 A visit, with a single dose of medicine . . . 1 25 Medicine to be priced as follows : For powders, each ...... 12 Pills, each dose 12 Boluses, each 25 Electuaries, per ounce 50 Mixtures, per ounce 12 Decoctions, one dollar & -j per lb., or, per ounce 12 Infusion, one dollar & per lb., or, per ounce 12 Lotions, per lb 1 25 Tinctures, per ounce 25 Vol. spirit, per ounce ...... 50 Ointments and cerates, per ounce . . . 25 Blistering plasters, according to their sizes, from 1 Dol. ffo to 2 00 Other plasters, to 2 50 For a single dose of medicine, dispensed without a visit 62 Dol. Cts. 19 Consultations. The first visit in consultation 5 00 Each subsequent visit in consultation . . . 2 00 A night visit . . . . . . . 5 00 Visit at a distance from town, per mile . . 1 00 A visit to Brooklyn . . . . . . 3 00 A visit to Pawles’ Hook 5 00 A visit to Staten Island 10 00 The last two charges to be doubled in Winter, or in stormy and tempestuous weather. The first visit in epidemic fevers, or in other diseases where there is personal danger incurred . 5 00 Each subsequent visit under these circumstances . 2 00 The Charges. For curing a simple or virulent gonorrhea, from Ten to 20 00 For curing confirmed syphilis, from $25 to . . 100 00 For dressing a blister, from T6g°T to ... 1 00 For dressing wounds, from one to . . . . 2 00 For applying cupping-glasses 4 00 For bleeding in the arm 1 00 For bleeding in the foot 2 00 “ “ jugular vein 2 00 For opening an artery 5 00 For inoculating and attending in the small-pox, from $5.00 to . . . . . . . 10 00 Scarifications of the eye . . • . . . 5 00 Punctures in oedematous swelling . . . . 2 00 Inserting an issue 2 00 Inserting a seton 5 00 Introducing a catheter the first time . . . 5 00 Introducing a catheter, each subsequent time . 2 00 Extracting a calculus from the urethra . . 10 00 Reducing a simple fracture, from ten dollars to . 20 00 Reducing a compound fracture . . . . 30 00 Setting dislocations, from $5.00 to . . . 20 00 For reducing a prolapsus ani 5 00 For reducing a hernia 25 00 For opening an abscess, from $1.00 to . . . 5 00 For amputating the breast 50 00 “ “ arm or leg . . . 50 00 “ “ joint 100 00 20 For amputating the finger 10 00 “ “ penis 20 00 For extirpating the eye 100 00 “ “ tonsil 25 00 “ “ testicle . . . . 50 00 “ “ a polypus 25 00 “ “ a tumor, from $10 to . . 50 00 Perforating the rectum, nostrils, or the urethra . 10 00 Paracentesis of the abdomen 10 00 “ “ thorax . . . . 50 00 Operation for an aneurysm 100 00 “ “ the hare lip .... 25 00 “ “ hydrocele 25 00 “ “ hernia 125 00 “ “ fistula in ano . . . 50 00 “ “ fistula in perinaeo . . 25 00 “ “ phymosis 10 00 “ “ paraphymosis . . . 10 00 “ “ fistula lachrymalis . . 25 00 “ “ wry neck 25 00 “ “ cataract . . . . . 125 00 The operation of lithotomy 125 00 “ “ of bronchotomy . . . . 25 00 “ “ of trepanning ..... 100 00 “ “ of circumcision . . . . 10 00 Midwifery Charges. For a common case, from $15.00 to . . . 25 00 For tedious or difficult cases, from $25.00 to . .40 00 The fees, according to the accompanying bill, were mod- erate, and differed but little from the present day, now that the cost of living is very much higher. The probability is, that the physicians of the time carried with them their own medicines, and that the apothecaries in possession of a medi- cal degree, license, or what not, got but very little of their patronage. Some of the latter class were familiar to the eye in the newspaper advertisements, as, for instance, “ James Church, M. d., formerly pupil to Dr. Dennison, London hos- pital, announces a third edition of a brief dissertation on the Venereal Disease,”—from which we may infer that syphilis 21 was known even in the pastoral days of our city, even before its fall! Said Dr. Church announces his removal from his late residence, upper end of Broadway, to 157 Front street, near the Fly market. Here the transient trade was probably much better, and not so much confined to people other than seafaring men. Dr. Church was also proprietor of a patent Scotch ointment, which cures the itch in twenty-four hours, and had cured half a million of persons in Europe and Amer- ica. Price, seventy-five cents. But whether the Duke of Argyle was a myth, or so good a man could have enemies, he is boldly styled an “illiterate quack ” by a rival advertiser, who “ sells genuine articles and not imitations, but valuable medicines of eminent men who have discovered them by a series of long practice and experience.” Dr. Angelis, from Italy, is another advertiser. He “ pre- vents and cures Yellow-Fever by his Four Herbed Pills, prepared by himself ” “ He also cures the Venereal Disease, without the use of mercury, in a particular way, as used in Italy.” But these men must have published their cases, or had distinguished patients, as Dr. Cowan, 5 Thames street, near the new building of the City tavern, Broadway, N. Y., also cures venereal complaints. He proclaims that “ Secrecy and honor may be depended upon on moderate terms.” Dr. James McKinzey, of 37 Warren street, began as a dent- ist, and subsequently announced himself as a “ man-midwife and dentist from Dublin.” Greenwood, Washington’s dentist, and in possession of his certificate to that effect, dated within only a few months of his death, seems also to have allowed his accomplishments to have leaked out in the public prints and on the fly-leaf of the Directory. “ The approbation which the late illustrious Washington was pleased to bestow upon him is a sufficient recommendation of his ability,” says our undisguised egotist. On the brighter side, however, may be noticed the “ Socie- ty for the Relief of Distressed Prisoners,” in which Drs. John Charleton, David Hosack, and John R. B. Rodgers were active. Perhaps, too, may be reproduced the fact that the 22 trustees of the City Dispensary made the following statement for the year 1799 : Received under their care . . 517 patients. Of which have been cured . . 460 Relieved ..... 10 Died ...... 16 Removed to City hospital . . 10 Marine hospital . 2 Bellevue hospital . 5 Almshouse . . 4 Remain under care ... 10 $1,148.66 was expended in medicines, salaries, etc. This dispensary kept in good order four sets of apparatus for resuscitating those apparently drowned, with public no- tice where they were deposited. Let us farther study the picture of the times. The city proper, with a stated population of 60,489, was bounded on Broadway by Anthony street, on the North river by Harri- son street, and on the East river by Rutgers street. Even within these limits the houses were scattering, and surround- ed by large gardens as well as vacant lots. Looking north, the town was an irregular quadrilateral, which followed the usual law of settlements, that of growing from the shores in- ward. The streets were dimly lit by oil; porters carried ladies across the muddy streets; and by nine o’clock the whole city, with the exception of the pleasure-seekers, was snoring be- tween the upper and nether feather beds of the period. Wood was the universal fuel, chimney-sweeps were in vogue, and the milkman carried his commodity around in two cans, which were balanced from his shoulders upon a wooden yoke. Boot- blacks called upon their customers early in the morning, and might be seen flitting along the streets with boots strung upon a long pole, as they came or went patron-bound. The churches were illuminated by tallow candles in sockets along the walls. The minister had a brass candle-stick upon 23 each side of the pulpit, and a small tray with a pair of snuff- ers. The wealthy churches used spermaceti. “The singing was unquestionably praise,” says a witty chronicler; “ it cer- tainly was not music.” Pine knots not unfrequently dis- placed the tallow candles, even in the houses of the well to do. There were no sidewalks in 1790 ;—at the date of the period concerning which this paper is written they had crawled in a kind of intermittent way as high as Murray street; subse- quently the pavements were uniformly of brick, set cater-cor- nered. Every man swept in front of his own premises, and a common carrier took the dirt away. The Bridewell, workhouse, and gaol were in the north part of the park, the almshouse had not yet been projected, nor the stones cut for the present city hall. A whipping-post was close at hand for minor offenders. Carriages set high on springs which curved far backward were not altogether unknown, but ox-carts were the chief means of travel. A horse-chair, somewhat like the present sulky, but much more elaborately ornamental, was the vehicle of the ostentatious, and on long journeys a horse generally carried man and wife, the latter on a pillion behind. There were ships with primitive appointments which sailed to London, sloops to Baltimore and other points upon the coast, and mail coaches, by the aid in part of indifferent ferries, were run to Philadelphia. The only theatre of conse- quence presented translated plays from Augustus Yon Katze- bue, who probably was the Rider Haggard of the day. From advertisements in the newspapers, it may be judged that sla- very was not yet extinct, as for instance, “ For Sale—A Negro boy about 14 years old; belongs to a single person, who has no manner of use for him.” Rooms were small in general and low always, that they might be heated with economy,—for there had been many hard winters, when hickory, oak, and chestnut had been as high as ten or twelve dollars a cord, and once, at least, the City Hall park had been despoiled of its wooden palings by 24 the poor. Only one room of the house was warmed, and its floor was carefully sanded; the others, cold, damp, and cheer- less, were kept aglow with the gratitude of the occasional guest or the piety of the storm-staid minister. Samplers adorned the walls, but disappeared when it became politic to hide dates. Pumps and wells were in the middle of the streets, and, ex- cept that delivered by the famous Tea Water Pump in Chat- ham street, the water was brackish and bad-odored. The water of this pump always found ready buyers from the licensed hawkers of the streets. Aaron Burr manoeuvred for an aqueduct company, to distribute the water pumped from wells through hollow logs, but did not quite succeed—he got only a bank: the water-works in Reade street were an after creation. There were ward overseers of pumps and wells, an office which was never abolished unless very recently, so that during the days of the Tweed regime, many a politician prof- ited handsomely by the oversight. As a provision against fires, leather buckets with the addresses of owners were kept in their houses for conveying water to the rude hand-brake en- gines. Volunteers formed ranks, and passed these buckets from hand to hand along the fine. Quails and rabbits were shot on the old Potter’s Field, afterward Washington square, and the whole intervening dis- trict was distinctly visible from a point of view near the state prison in Greenwich village. The cupola of the New York hospital, just off Broadway, commanded an extensive view of the city, the two rivers, the bay, Staten Island, Long Island, and the Jersey shore. Hogs roamed the streets, wallowed in the green-scummed ponds, and besmirched the bag-shaped gowns of women. A rope- walk, extending from the Fresh Water pond, with its squalid surroundings, added nothing to the attractiveness of the sight, nor Potter’s hill, just a little north of Chambers street. On the east side of Broad street, some two hundred feet from Wall, stood the old Government House, built during the autocratic reign of Governor Peter Stuyvesant. This 25 house was of stone, cottage style, with gable-end streetward. Another was the old Federal hall, on the north-east corner of Wall and Nassau streets. Its front stood on pillars, on the kerb line, and projected over the sidewalk, which was clear for pedestrians. Brooklyn had but few houses, limitless fields, and the usual powder-house in its most remote part. One two-horse stage- coach ran between Paulus Hook and Newark: left the latter place in the morning after bustling around two hours or so for passengers all over town, and returned to its starting-place in the afternoon. There were bridges over both the Passaic and Hackensack rivers, and a corduroy road over the meadow be- tween them. There was then only one house at Paulus Hook— a tavern and ferry-house kept by one Major Hunt. The river was crossed in periaugers, which were open boats with two masts, or in calm weather in row-boats. The difficulty in trans- portation made Newark the market town, whither many New York merchants went to buy country produce. New York got all the trade when Fulton put his twin ferry-boats on the Paulus Hook ferry in 1811 and 1812, which made it easy for the country wagons to drive on and off, and to surmount all the minor vexations, in from ten to twenty minutes. At the foot of Cortlandt street was the Paulus Hook ferry, and at the foot of Crown (now Liberty) street was a ferry across the East river to Nassau or Long Island. The boats ran three or four times a day. The old Fly market in Maiden Lane from Pearl to South streets was the Mecca of thrifty house-keepers, who were their own basket carriers. The term Fly is a corruption of the Dutch Ylaie, hence really Valley or Meadow market. A sewer ran down under Maiden Lane and the market to the East river. At Pearl street there was an arched bridge over the sewer, with an opening guarded by a railing, through which the passing carcasses of small animals and filth in gen- eral passed on their final voyage from the city. The Oswego market was at the junction of Broadway and Maiden Lane; the Exchange, at the lower end of Broad street; the Hud- 26 son, at the foot of Spring street between Greenwich street and the river, which suggested its name, was also known as the Bare (not Bear') market, as being bare of produce, be- cause it was built before a burnt portion of the city had been restored to its original condition. At Canal street tlrere flowed a creek, crossed by a stone bridge. There were no wharves or docks above Cortlandt street, except one close by the state prison near what is now King street; this structure subsequently became a brewery, and was torn down during the summer of 1881. Broadway above Chambers street was a succession of green hills and valleys, the high ground sloping away on the west to the Lispenard meadows, and on the east toward the Fresh Water pond. Queen street (now Pine) and Duane street were fashionable, and the Battery was in the full flush of swelldom. Lower Broadway was occupied by little shop- keepers, saddlers, tin-workers, candle-makers, and shoe- makers. The houses here rented from $200 to $600 per annum. Where is now Grand street was a range of high hills: at their foot, near the river, parties came on Sundays to carouse and eat clams. The Bowery, first an Indian trail, then a cow-path, and, still later, an indifferent road of vari- able width, ran out into the country: its paths were sandy and its passengers suspicious. Old Greenwich, known once under the Indian name of Seponnike, occupied the tract of land between Canal and West Twenty-first streets, and from Fifth and South-Fifth avenues to Washington street. This contained Greenwich Lane, which boasted its monolith to General Wolfe, and the mansion of Aaron Burr, known as Richmond hill, which passed through the viscissitudes of tavern, circus, and musical garden, until the march of improvement at last drove it off the face of the land. The state prison, the ancestor of Sing Sing, was erected here in 1797. Harlem was still a quaint Dutch village, with manners and customs of its own, with its sporting vantages of wild duck, and numerous creeks teeming with small fish. It was quite 27 a journey to get there by land or by water; the perils of Hell- gate beset the voyager on the river, and the noiseless bludg- eon of the foot-pad on land. Yorkville was another Houns- low Heath, and Bloomingdale a Sleepy Hollow kind of ham- let, where the gentry had an almost unobstructed view of the craft upon the Hudson. Here were rather pretentious man- sions, gardens, and villas. Manhattanville was also a village on the Hudson shore, with wooded belts of full grown oaks, chestnut, and hickory. We are told that the cardinal virtue of the ancient Gotham- ite was hospitality, supplemented by a captivating loquacious- ness ; and we may well believe that the rigors of the quaran- tine of the yellow-fever in 1782, 1791, 1795, and 1798, and the doctors’ mob in 1788, well divided the gossip with the hairbreadth escapes of the picturesque war which preceded them. The descendants of the Dutch, however, prided them- selves somewhat upon their blue blood, and kept aloof from the advancing tide of all kinds of people from almost every quarter of the globe. The merchants, according to the remi- niscences of a travelling player, were roisterers who came late to business, rolled barrels upon the docks during the day, then put on their evening suits and danced through the greater part of the night. Thus feebly have we attempted to picture the times, lead- ing oblivion into day, and in the case of the actors have we, like “ Old Mortality,” endeavored to deepen the indentations of the vanishing epitaphs. Let us not smile at their foibles or their juggleries for fame, their envyings or their bickerings. Let us credit their honesty just a little, their acquirements a little more, remembering that a few were doing the work of the many, and not, as now, the many the work of the few. Let us remember their yearning for knowledge, their strug- gles against the wolf at the door, their missed opportunities for distinction, their self-sacrifice, their ingenuity of resource, and, above all, their devoted humanity. Let us recall the fact that their surgery was without anaesthesia, and their medicine without the instruments of precision. Let our sym- 28 pathies be extended to the struggles of their pupilage;—let us follow them through the menial hardships imposed by their preceptors who required them to mend the quill pen* make the ink, wield the pestle, deliver compounds about the town, and be the lacquey-in-general, in return for which might be had glimpses at the library of some fifty volumes or so, and the handling of a few odd bones. Much were they called upon to do, and well, on the whole, did they do it. Pioneers indeed were they—perhaps Goths and Visigoths who con- quered and defied, but came not in at the harvest nor enjoyed the vintage. Let us accord to them their meed, and in all humility ask ourselves whether another century will pass as gracious a judgment upon what abides from us.