Elsworth found that doctors were not held in nearly such high esteem in Spain as in England. They pursued the barbaric methods of treatment which were in vogue here at the beginning of this century, and which, if followed now, would subject the practitioner to a trial for manslaughter. Spain is so far behind the rest of Europe in everything, that it can easily be imagined how perilous it is for an invalid to fall into the hands of the sangrados even of the present day. The Spaniards are celebrated for their proverbs, not a few of which are aimed at the doctors. A popular rhyme goes like this:—
“And, doctor, do you really think
That asses’ milk I ought to drink?
It cured yourself, I grant it true;
But then ’twas mother’s milk to you!”
His fourth autumn had been passed in Spain, when another terrible epidemic of cholera broke out in Granada and other cities of Andalusia. Now he seemed to learn why he had been sent, hither. Now he could test the reality of his conversion. Now he would realise the dignity of his calling and the strength of his humanity. And he did not flinch.
His skill in sanitary matters and his surgical knowledge stood him in good stead. A good head for mechanics, much common sense, and a readiness of resource had already enabled him to save many of his Gitano friends from the hospitals they so much dreaded. He could mend their broken limbs with extemporised splints, reduce dislocations, and dress wounds antiseptically; and by cheering them by the infusion of his own light-heartedness, shorten their period of convalescence. To be sure, they had their own well-tried methods of cure, which were not so contemptible, though unrecognised in the schools. Having small faith in drugs, and smaller still in their wholesale administration by ignorant and unthinking practitioners, his medicine chest seldom needed replenishing. He valued his opium (Mash Allah, the gift of God, the Turks call it), but administered it with scrupulous care. Quinine was indispensable, and a dozen other well-tried remedies enabled him to work many a cure. But cold water and fresh air, wholesome food and temperance, want few aids from medicine for the ills of man. The wiser the physician the fewer the drugs, and by the length of your doctor’s prescription you may estimate the shallowness of his pretence to wisdom.
Sanitary engineers have done so much for the improvement of the health of towns, that the low death-rate in London and other English cities is more to be attributed to their agency than to improved methods of medical treatment. The wonder is that Spain and Italy are not continually decimated by pestilence. We may see what was the state of England in the time of the Black Death and the Great Plague by the condition of Naples and Granada under recent cholera visitations; the most elementary sanitary precautions being not only neglected but apparently impossible of comprehension by the people generally, so that the soil is always ready for the seeds of disease.
Elsworth was in robust health and vigour while he lived at Granada. Every morning he took two hours’ exercise on his bicycle into the open country of the Vega. His daily bath, the simplicity of his diet, his entire abstention from alcohol, and his scrupulous care to drink no water which he had not himself carefully boiled and filtered, with his cheerful, well-occupied mind, prevented him from taking any complaint during his work amongst the sick. He was well received by the poor folk he visited; and though the local doctors and priests looked coldly on his work, he had no difficulty in finding cases neglected by both, where his services were eagerly welcomed. Ho found amongst the very poor a strange prejudice against the doctors, who were ignorantly accused of giving the disease to the people to lessen the population. This seems to have had its origin in the inoculations practised by a disciple of Pasteur, and which undoubtedly did cause many deaths. There is such a widespread dislike of the priests among Spanish men, not altogether to be marvelled at by those who know the country, that the religious ministrations of this young English surgeon were often acceptable where the public functionary would have had scant courtesy. The authorities of the town recognised his work, and gave him permission to act as a medical man when they had satisfied themselves as to his qualifications. He attempted no concealment. Why should he? The British vice-consul of the city, a wealthy old Scotchman, the head of a firm of mining engineers, soon became a good friend to him. He was a Presbyterian of the good old school, with convictions about the Man of Sin and the Scarlet Lady, and loved Spain chiefly for the lead his firm extracted from the bowels of her mountains. Being a man of considerable standing in the city, and withal highly respected for his probity and charity, he had no difficulty in making easy the sort of work Elsworth aspired to do in the public service.
Naturally the authorities did not at first relish suggestions from a foreigner about improved drainage and water supply, though when they came to know the clever young surgeon, and had listened to his sensible proposals anent accumulations of refuse and dust, they gradually adopted many of his suggestions. Daily he spent many hours visiting amongst the most poverty stricken and dirty inhabitants. He spent the greater part of his income in helping his patients with suitable food and clothing. His missionary work was done by a few kind words here and there; with loving counsels and the sympathy which comes with a sense of the higher relationship of man to man through the All-Father, he won his way to the hearts of all. Virtue went out of him, and health and peace seemed to follow his steps. He was as much at home with the Catholic people of Granada as he would have been in the courts and alleys of London; he was as welcome in the homes of the atheist and gipsy, the red Republican and anarchist, as with the family of the Presbyterian vice-consul; and all because the pervading sense of God’s love for man had taken possession of his life. His sympathies were too wide for the influence of bigotry; he was as a traveller from a far country, who has long been homeless and a wanderer, not at all in the humour to trouble himself with the squabbles of his vestry, or the quarrels of the political clubs of the town he has come back to rest in.