It was strongly urged, but urged in vain, that the whole difficulty would disappear if a short Act were passed, doing away with the dissection of murderers, and enacting that the bodies of all unknown persons who died in workhouses or hospitals, without friends, should be handed over, under proper control, to the different teachers of anatomy. That these would be sufficient was afterwards made clear by the Committee on Anatomy.[9] In their Report it is stated that the returns obtained from 127 of the parishes situate in London, Westminster, and Southwark, or their immediate vicinity, showed that out of 3744 persons who died in the workhouses of these parishes in the year 1827, 3103 were buried at the parish expense, and that of these about 1108 were not attended to their graves by any relations. The number of bodies obtained from this source would have exceeded those supplied by the resurrection-men, and would have been adequate for the wants of the London Schools.
The newspapers of the day contain many proposed solutions of the difficulty. One correspondent gravely suggested that as prostitutes had, by their bodies during life, been engaged in corrupting mankind, it was only right that after death those bodies should be handed over to be dissected for the public good. Another correspondent proposed that all bodies of suicides should be used for dissection, and that all those persons who came to their death by duelling, prize-fighting, or drunkenness, should be handed over to the surgeons for a similar purpose.
Mr. Dermott, the proprietor of the Gerrard Street, or Little Windmill Street, School of Medicine, proposed a scheme by which a fund was to be raised by grants from Government, and from the College of Surgeons, and by voluntary contributions from the nobility and gentry. This fund was to be invested in the names of “opulent and respectable men,” not more than one-third of whom were to be members of the medical profession. It was proposed to expend the interest on this fund in paying a sum not exceeding seven pounds to those persons who were willing to contract for the sale of their bodies for dissection. Registers were to be kept of all such persons, and the Committee were to have the power of claiming the body six hours after death. Mr. Dermott also suggested that all medical men should leave their own bodies to be used for anatomical teaching. It is hardly necessary to point out the absurdity of the first part of this scheme; the Committee, after paying their seven pounds, would have had no control over the subsequent movements of the persons whose bodies they had thus purchased, and it was hardly to be expected that friends of the deceased would send notice to the Committee that the body was ready for them. Both parts of the scheme would have required an Act of Parliament, as executors were not bound to give up a corpse, even though instructions had been left that it was a person’s wish that his body should be used for anatomical purposes. Many such bequests have been made, and in some instances the desire of the testator has been carried into effect. To try to do away with some of the prejudices against dissection, Jeremy Bentham left his body for this purpose; the dissection was duly carried out at the Webb Street School, and at the request of Dr. Southwood Smith, Mr. Grainger delivered the following oration over the body on June 9th, 1832:
“Gentlemen,—In presenting myself before you this day, at the request of my friend and colleague, Dr. Southwood Smith, I can assure you I do so strongly impressed with the high importance of the duty I have undertaken, and the responsibility I have thus assumed. Gentlemen, it is no ordinary occasion on which we are assembled. We are here collected to carry into execution the last wishes of one whose mortal career, prolonged far beyond the usual limits of man’s existence, has been devoted with almost unexampled energy and perseverance to the establishment of those great moral and political truths, on which the happiness and the enlightenment of the human race are founded. Ill would it become me, however, to dwell on the genius, the philanthropy, or the integrity of the illustrious deceased. His eulogium has already been eloquently pronounced by one more fitted to do justice to such an undertaking than the humble individual who now addresses you. It would be more suitable to the object of the present meeting that I should consider in what manner the intentions of the late Mr. Bentham, regarding the disposition of his remains, can best be carried into effect. But before I do this, it may be proper to inform some of my auditors what those intentions were. This great man was an ardent admirer of the science of medicine, and his penetrating mind was not slow in perceiving that the safe and successful practice of the healing art entirely rests on a thorough knowledge of the natural structure and functions of the human body. He also perceived that there was but one method of obtaining such knowledge, viz., dissection. In proceeding to inquire how it came to happen that in a country like England, justly proud of those numerous institutions in which science is so successfully cultivated, so little encouragement, or more correctly speaking, so much opposition, was offered to the advancement of so indispensable a branch of knowledge, Mr. Bentham discovered that this repugnance to dissection sprang from a feeling strongly implanted in the human breast—a feeling of reverence towards the dead. Far be it from me to condemn such a sentiment, for it has its source in some of the purest principles of our nature. But if it can be shown that an undue indulgence in this feeling produces incalculable mischief in society, it becomes the duty of all who are interested in the happiness of mankind to oppose the progress of such injurious opinions. Mr. Bentham, impressed with this idea, and thinking it unjust that the humbler classes of the community should alone be called upon to sacrifice those feelings which are cherished alike by the rich and poor, determined to devote his own body to the public good. He knew that this determination would inflict pain on many of his dearest friends. An example of this character, emanating from a person so talented, so influential, and so esteemed, is calculated to operate a most beneficial effect on the public mind, and I cannot refrain from considering the dissection of the body now before us as an important era in the progress of anatomy, as it is one of the first that in this country has been employed for the purposes of science, under the direct sanction of the individual expressed during his lifetime; he also knew that obstacles would probably be offered to its fulfilment, but with an indifference to personal feeling rarely witnessed, he took effectual means to carry his resolution into effect. And thus, gentlemen, did the last act of this illustrious man’s existence accord with that leading principle of his well-spent life—the desire to promote the universal happiness and welfare of mankind.”
Bentham’s skeleton, clothed in his usual attire, is now in University College, London.
Messenger Monsey, the eccentric physician to the Chelsea Hospital, was exceedingly anxious that his body should be examined after death. He obtained a promise from Mr. Forster, of Union Court, that he would perform this service for him. So anxious was Monsey for the post mortem to be carried out, that in May, 1787, he wrote to Cruikshank, the anatomist, as follows:
“Mr. Foster (sic) a Surgeon in Union Court, Broad Street, has been so good as to promise to open my Carcass and see what is the matter with my Heart, Arteries, Kidnies, &c. He is gone to Norwich and may not return before I am [dead]. Will you be so good as to let me send it to you, or if he comes will you like to be present at the dissection. I am now very ill and hardly see to scrawl this & feel as if I should live two days, the sooner the better. I am, tho’ unknown to you
“Your respectfull humble Servant
“Messr. Monsey.”
Monsey lived until December 20th, 1788; his wishes were duly carried out by Mr. Forster, at Guy’s Hospital, in the presence of the students.
Ninety-nine gentlemen of Dublin signed a document, in which the wish was expressed that their bodies, instead of being interred, should be devoted by their surviving friends “to the more rational, benevolent, and honourable purpose of explaining the structure, functions and diseases of the human being.”