HOSPITALS BUILT BY PUBLIC BENEVOLENCE.
It was in the eighteenth century that the Royal Hospitals were found to be insufficient for the wants of the population, and private benevolence began to supply the deficiencies of Royal foundations. The Westminster Hospital is said to have been the first hospital established by subscription—viz., in 1719, the present building dating from 1732. I can do little more than mention these hospitals; but in doing so, with their dates, I would call attention to the fact that most of them were originally built in what were then the outskirts of the town, just as St. Bartholomew’s was outside the walls, and St. Thomas’s in the unimportant suburb of Southwark. Guy’s was founded in 1722 by Thomas Guy, a bookseller, and, according to recent information, a publisher. He is said to have made his money partly by selling Bibles, partly by buying up sailors’ prize tickets, and partly by successful speculations at the time of the South Sea Bubble. Be that as it may, he spent over £18,000 on the building of his hospital, and endowed it with another £220,000. St. George’s was founded in 1733; the London Hospital in 1740; the Lock Hospital in 1746; Queen Charlotte’s Lying-in Hospital in 1752; the Small-pox Hospital (originally at King’s Cross) in 1746; the Middlesex Hospital in 1745; St. Luke’s Hospital for Lunaticks in 1751; the Ophthalmic Hospital, Moorfields, in 1804; Charing-cross Hospital (originating from a dispensary existing in 1818) in 1831; the Royal Free Hospital in 1828; University College Hospital in 1833; King’s College Hospital in 1839; Brompton Consumption Hospital in 1844; and St. Mary’s Hospital in 1851. The above list includes only some of the chief hospitals of London, and it is impossible to over-estimate the service they have done to humanity, not only by relieving distress, but in disseminating a knowledge of medicine and surgery.
In bringing this part of my address to a close, I have only to mention that in 1745 the surgeons finally separated from the barbers. They obtained a new charter and removed to Surgeons’ Hall in the Old Bailey, where they remained till 1800, when they again removed to the present house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and became the Royal College of Surgeons of England.
In treating of a subject like that which I have chosen, it becomes necessary to adopt some plan of limitation, otherwise one would talk interminably. On this account I have resolved to give no details concerning the great London physicians and surgeons who flourished in the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth centuries. If, therefore, I say nothing of Arbuthnot, Akenside, Mead, Pringle, Smellie, Baker, William and John Hunter, Cline, Sharpe, Percival Pott, Abernethy, Sir Charles Bell, Liston, Brodie, Astley Cooper, John Abernethy, William Lawrence, and many others, it is not from want of appreciation of their merits, but merely because to do so would take me too far. I purpose, therefore, to skip over the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century, and conclude my paper with a few remarks on the teaching of medicine in modern London.
SURGEONS’ HALL, OLD BAILEY.
Fifty years ago medical schools were very different from what they are now. The teaching was far less thorough, the examinations far less complete. For example, according to Sir James Paget (“St. Bartholomew’s Hospital Fifty Years Ago”), it was the universal custom for students to be apprenticed in the country, and to spend eighteen months in London before going up for the College and Hall. The examination at the College of Surgeons was conducted by ten examiners, who sat at a semicircular table, was entirely vivâ voce, and lasted twenty minutes. The teaching for these examinations was entirely by lectures, and it was no uncommon thing for one man to lecture on more than one subject. Thus, at St. Bartholomew’s, Stanley, who was surgeon to the hospital, lectured on anatomy and physiology, and the senior physician on medicine and chemistry, while of clinical instruction there was practically none. The operating was swift and dexterous, the mortality after it great, “for there was scarcely a thought about blood infections ... none would hesitate to go straight from a dissection of a dead body to an operation on a living one, and at the first dressing of an amputation or any large wound the stench of the decomposing bloody fluid running from it was enough to infect the whole ward.” The nursing at that time was of a rough order. The nurses were often intemperate, and almost always women who morally and intellectually might fairly be classed among the lower orders.
UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, GOWER STREET.
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