Part 19 (2/2)

The origin and pretensions of this learned pract.i.tioner are thus referred to in one of the rhymes of the day:--

”You may talk of your Celsus, Machaons, and Galens, Physicians who cured all incurable ailings, But ne'er yet was doctor applauded in song Like that erudite Phoenix, the great Doctor Long.

Such astonis.h.i.+ng cures he performs, I a.s.sure ye, Some think him a G.o.d--all a _lusus naturae_: The whole animal system, no matter how wrong, Is set right in a moment by great Doctor Long.

Through all regions his vast reputation has flown, Through the torrid, the frigid, and temperate zone; The wretch, just expiring, springs healthy and strong From his bed at one touch of the great Doctor Long.

His skill to experience, what potentates ran-- The Pope, the Grand Llama, the King of j.a.pan!

The great Chinese autocrat, mighty Fon Whong, Was cured of the 'doldrums' by famed Doctor Long!

In each serious case he considers as well as Doctor Horace, '_naturam c.u.m furca expellas_'; 'Dame Nature' (_i.e._) 'you must poke with a p.r.o.ng.'

Pretty poking she gets from the great Doctor Long.

He cures folks _a merveille_, the French people cry; The Greeks all p.r.o.nounce him [Greek: theztagon tz]

Dutch and Germans adore him; the Irish among, 'To be sure he's the dandy!' Go bragh, Doctor Long!

King Chabert has proved, since restored from his panic, There's small harm in quaffing pure hydrocyanic; But he never found out it was good for the throng, When scrubbed on their stomachs by great Doctor Long.

A machine he's invented, stupendous as new, To sweep one's inside as you'd sweep out a flue; No climbing boy, urged by the sound of the thong, Can brush out your vitals like great Doctor Long.[100]

Garter King has a.s.signed, like a sad 'fleering Jack,'

A duck for a crest, with the motto, '_Quack, Quack_'

To the proud name of St. John (it should be _St. Johng_, Which would rhyme with the surname of great Doctor Long).

Great house-painting, sign-painting, face-painting sage!

Thou Raffaelle of physic!--thou pride of our age!

Alas! when thou diest, and the bell goes ding-dong, Sure Hygeia herself will expire with her Long!

Then fill every gla.s.s, drink in grand coalition, _Long life_, _long_ await this _long_-headed physician; _Long_, _long_ may Fame sound, with her trumpet and song, Through each nation the name of the great Doctor Long!”[101]

”Dr. Long's” remedy (”the p.r.o.ng” referred to in the foregoing ballad) was of the simplest possible character, and--his dupes in nine cases out of ten being women--his success complete. He invented a wonderful liniment or lotion, by means of which he professed to diagnose and eradicate the virus of consumption. With many patients an inflammation followed its application, which (according to the quack) discovered the presence of disease, and which, after a plentiful crop of guineas had been extracted, nature was allowed to heal: the patient was then p.r.o.nounced out of danger. With some persons the liniment was perfectly innocuous, and when this was the case the patient was informed that no disease need be feared. The secret of course lay in the fact that the quack used two liniments, apparently identical, one of which only contained the irritating medium. Many actually consumptive persons of course consulted him; but when this was the case he refused his a.s.sistance, on the ground that it had been invoked too late.

He carried the imposition, as might have been antic.i.p.ated, once too far, and, in the case of the beautiful and unfortunate Miss Cus.h.i.+n (a lady of highly nervous temperament), maintained the inflammation for so long a time that nature for once refused to a.s.sist him, and when Sir Benjamin Brodie was summoned, mortification had already set in. The trial resulted in a verdict of guilty, but the judge (Baron Parke), who summed up scandalously in his favour, instead of sending the fellow to hard labour, imposed a fine of 250, which was immediately paid.

Seymour alludes to this event in a pictorial satire, in which he shows us St. John Long, with a vulture's head and beak, kneeling on the floor of a dungeon with a bottle by his side labelled ”lotion,” and (beneath) the words,--”Lost, 12,000 per annum, _medical practice_. Whoever will restore the same to Mr. St. J. L--g, shall receive the benefit of his advice.”

Miss Cus.h.i.+n's death was quickly followed by another fatal case, that of Mrs. Colin Campbell Lloyd, who also died from the effects of the corrosive lotion, and St. John Long the following year was again put on his trial for manslaughter; in this case the fellow was acquitted.

Seymour's prediction was not destined to be verified. The _soi-disant_ St. John Long, _alias_ O'Driscoll, in spite of these ”mistakes,” which in our day would receive a harsher term, retained his large ”practice”

to the last, and died--still a young man--of the very disease to which he professed to be superior, thus conclusively proving better than anything else could have done the utter impotency of his preparation.

Anstey (son of the once celebrated author of the ”New Bath Guide”) amusingly describes the administration of an oath to a witness in a court of law:--

”Here, Simon, you shall (silence there!) The truth and all the truth declare, And nothing but the truth be willing To speak, so help you G--d (a s.h.i.+lling).”[102]

<script>