The Art of the Bone-Setter: A Testimony and a Vindication

by George Matthews Bennett

While one correspondent has favoured us with his doubts on the subject of unprofessional bone-setting, others have written to verify cases such as that recorded by George Moore’s biographer. One of these communications is as follows: ‘In 1865, I had met with a severe accident on board a ship coming home from India, and among other injuries the middle finger of my right hand was much injured. There were two or three doctors among the passengers besides the ship’s surgeon, and they all agreed that it was merely a severe bruise. I thought little of it, hoping it would soon get right; but when six weeks had passed and the finger was still quite powerless, I consulted an excellent general practitioner in England, who said the joint was enlarged, and recommended an application of iodine, which took off the skin, but had no other effect. Two other surgeons—one of them a man of considerable repute—were consulted, but with no better result; and eventually I was persuaded to go to a bone-setter in Liverpool. The moment he felt the finger he said “It’s dislocated.” The treatment was very simple. The finger was enveloped in a bag of bran and kept constantly wet for a fortnight, and then it was set. The operator gave it a violent wrench. I heard a crack like that made when one pulls one’s finger-joints sharply; and from that moment I had the full use of my finger, which until then was absolutely powerless. The fee, as far as I remember, was ten shillings, certainly not more.

“The case which led me to consult this bone-setter was much more remarkable. Among the passengers on board the same ship was an Indian civilian who had been severely mauled by a tiger, in trying to save a fellow-sportsman’s life, and had quite lost the use of one arm. He was on his way home to see if anything could be done to restore it; and his disappointment was great when, after some months’ treatment by one of the greatest of London surgeons, there was hardly any improvement, and no hope was held out of more than a very partial cure. While down in Wales, he heard of the bone-setter above mentioned, who was a native of the Principality, and determined to try his powers. In a few months, by simple treatment and the wonderful power of manipulation which this man possessed, the use of the arm was entirely restored, and has ever since remained so.”’

The gentleman above alluded to was undoubtedly Mr. Evan Thomas, of Crosshall Street, Liverpool, whose reputation and skill enabled him to realise a handsome competence. The record of his cures, and the instances in which he has given relief when regular surgeons have failed, would fill a volume. A well-known actor on the London stage has furnished several instances which fell under his personal knowledge. Mr. Evan Thomas is now represented by a relative (a son I believe) who has taken out a diploma as a surgeon, and is therefore a “bone-setter” according to Act of Parliament.

The writer of the above anecdotes expressly points out that he does not for a moment wish to disparage the skill and care shewn by the regularly qualified surgeons in ordinary and in many extraordinary cases. They are with few exceptions, upright and generous men, and their kindness and tenderness seem specially developed by the pain which they so often have to inflict; but there are cases—more frequent, I believe, than is commonly supposed—where something more than training and practise is needed; and there are a few men (and women too) who seem intuitively to possess this something—a gift of touch which tells them when a joint, or it may be a muscle or tendon, is not in its right place, and enables them to put it right.

“It is this which I think the medical profession and the public generally should recognise, instead of speaking of these bone-setters, as is often done, as quacks, and their cures as fables, or at best happy accidents. In some cases the possessors of this gift have taken the necessary diploma which permits them to practise; in others they have not the means or education which would enable them to do so; or perhaps they have only discovered their gift comparatively late in life, when they have settled down to other professions.” “Surely,” the Editor remarks, “some means could be devised by which this gift, when it is discovered in an individual, can be utilised for the benefit of suffering humanity without the ordinary diploma, and yet with some check which would prevent imposture. The first step is the recognition that such a gift does exist; and then let it be the subject of intelligent inquiry.”

The next instance given in the Journal before referred (pp. 712) is contributed by a well-known clergyman of Northamptonshire, and is a voluntary and unlooked for testimonial to the author. He writes as follows:—“Some twelve years since, when returning from a visit to a friend on a bitterly cold December evening, I unluckily slipped upon a sheet of ice on the foot-path, and fell with my leg bent completely under me. The pain was intense, and for a quarter of an hour I was unable to raise myself up. Fortunately, I was not far from home, and managed to crawl to my own door. For two or three subsequent days I endured excruciating agony, and consulted my usual medical men in the town of ——, who pronounced my injury to be a violent sprain of the muscles of the knee, and after tightly bandaging the joint, they recommended entire rest for some days. For six weeks I hardly moved out-of-doors, and was quite unable, without assistance, to put on my stockings and boots.

“One day a neighbour suggested my seeing a celebrated bone-setter who pays a weekly visit to this neighbourhood. I eagerly adopted the suggestion, and by the aid of two sticks, attended by a friend, I contrived to get into and out of the train, and reached the bone-setter’s residence in due course. He first directed me to undress, and placed a chair to rest my leg upon. After manipulating the limb, he pressed my leg with such force that I fainted away, and when I recovered my senses, the perspiration was literally streaming down my face. I asked for some brandy, which he produced out of a cupboard close by, remarking: ‘I always keep my physic here.’

“For some ten minutes afterwards I felt very faint and in great pain; and without noticing his movements, he again suddenly pressed my leg, causing me to faint away a second time; and when I came to, I found my friend at my side whom I had left up-stairs, and who, startled by my screams, had hastened down to see what was the matter.

“The bone-setter then said: “Get up and walk; your knee was dislocated, but you are now all right.” To my inexpressible joy I found my knee replaced, and was able to walk as well as ever, and which for six weeks I had been unable to do without the assistance of two sticks. For ten years my leg was so well and strong, that I never needed the services of the bone-setter. Unfortunately, about two years since, in pulling off my boot I again dislocated the same knee, but in moving suddenly in my chair to reach a book, the joint returned into the socket, like the sharp report of a pistol. It has once since been out, but I have managed to replace the joint myself; but I occasionally go to the bone-setter to have the limb tightly plastered and bandaged, and over the bandage I always wear an elastic knee-cap.