THE ART
OF THE
BONE-SETTER.
CHAPTER I.
BONE-SETTERS AND THEIR ART.
“At present my desire is to have a good Bone-setter.”—Sir J. Denham.
These words, which Dr. Johnson used to illustrate the word Bone-setter in his famous dictionary, are better known than any other quotation bearing on the ancient art of the Bone-setter. There are scattered through the realms of English literature frequent allusions to those, who, in times past, practised this special branch of the surgical art, for the art is as old as the history of civilization itself, and was probably coeval with the fall of man. The assuaging of pain and the cure of injuries caused by external violence would naturally excite the ingenuity of the sufferer and suggest contrivances to those around them. The Egyptians are credited with a knowledge of surgery, though they appear to have relied on incantation and astrology for their medical practice. It is somewhat curious that one of our leading medical journals should have suggested, within a brief period, that Bone-setters likewise had recourse to charms and magic—thus credulity, in those who would ridicule the credulous, repeats itself even in these enlightened days. The intermediate history of surgery is full of strange changes and mutations; but, apart from the ordinary practices of the art, (with its cauterization and its cruel operations,) the cure of sprains, the reducing of dislocations and fractures, appears to have been practised by those who were neither leeches or barber-chirurgeons. In the seventeenth century when Harvey was studying the circulation of the blood, and Wiseman publishing those treatises which are the foundation of the modern system of surgery, one Friar Moulton had published The Compleat Bone-setter, and in the year 1665 an edition of it, “Englished and Enlarged” by Robert Turner, was printed for Thomas Rooks, of the “Lamb and Ink Bottle” at the East-end of St. Pauls. I have not been able to trace any separate publication on this subject during the two centuries which intervened between it and the work by Dr. Wharton Hood, which was issued in 1871, in a separate volume, after the greater part of it had appeared in the Lancet. Before the publication of this work, the poor Bone-setter had to endure contumely and insult at the hands of the faculty. Through their organs in the press they were denounced either as charlatans or quacks—as ignorant or presumptuous individuals who traded upon a “lucky” case to the detriment of the general practitioner. There were some, indeed, who by intercourse and observation knew that Bone-setters pursued their calling with success; that the principles which they followed were sound, gained by experience and improved by constant practise; that they possessed, in the different parts of the country where they lived, the confidence of the people, though they were not educated in the medical or surgical schools. They received their training at the hands of their predecessors, for the art was a special one and peculiar to several families whose traditions, observation, and method of practise were handed down from father to son. Daughters practised the art with success as well as the sons, and success crowned their efforts, and amongst them all the family of Matthews were pre-eminent in the Midlands, and whose representative I have the honour and privilege to be.
Mr. Charles Waterton, of Walton Hall, the eminent naturalist, who bears testimony to the good the Bone-setters have done, tells us, in the pleasant autobiographical notes to his Wanderings and Essays on Natural History—that every country in Europe, so far as I know to the contrary, has its Bone-setter independent of the surgeon. In Johnson’s Dictionary, under the article “Bone-setting,” we read that a Sir John Denham exclaimed “Give me a good Bone-setter!” In Spain the Bone-setter goes under the significant denomination of Algebusta. Here in England, however, the vast increase of practitioners in the art of surgery appears to have placed the old original Bone-setter in the shade; and I myself in many instances, have heard this most useful member of society designated as a mere quack; but most unjustly so, because a quack is generally considered as one devoid of professional education, and he is too apt to deal in spurious medicines. But not so the Bone-setter, whose extensive and almost incessant practice makes ample amends for the loss of anything that he might have acquired, by attending a regular course of lectures, or by culling the essence of abstruse and scientific publications. With him theory seems to be a mere trifle. Practice—daily and assiduous practice—is what renders him so successful in the most complicated cases. By the way in which you put your foot to the ground, by the manner in which you handle an object, the Bone-setter, through the mere faculty of his sight, oftentimes without even touching the injured part, will tell you where the ailment lies. Those only, who have personally experienced the skill of the Bone-setter, can form a true estimation of his merit in managing fractures and reducing dislocations. Further than this, his services in the healing and restorative art would never be looked at. This last is entirely the province of Galen and his numerous family of practitioners. Wherefore, at the time that I unequivocally avow to have the uttermost respect for the noble art of surgery in all its ramifications, I venture to reserve to myself the following (without any disparagement to the learned body of gentlemen who profess it) sincere esteem for the old practitioners who do so much for the public good amongst the lower orders, under the denomination of British Bone-setters. Many people have complained to me of the rude treatment they have experienced at the hands of the Bone-setter; but let these complainants bear in mind, what has been undone by force must be replaced by force; and that gentle and emollient applications, although essentially necessary in the commencement, and also in the continuation of the treatment, would ultimately be of no avail, without the final application of actual force to the injured parts. Hence the intolerable and excruciating pain on these occasions. The actual state of the accident is to blame—not the operation. The thanks of every Bone-setter is due to the eminent naturalist for his testimony of the value of, and his vindication of, the art they practise. His own quoted case is a peculiar one, but the experience of every Bone-setter could furnish a parallel and even more surprising instances of cures effected when the resources of scientific surgery have failed.