Makers of Modern Medicine

by James J. Walsh

William Stokes was of a family that had long been distinguished in Dublin for scholarship. While his ancestors came originally from England, five generations occupied more or less prominent positions in the public life of Ireland, and they had lived in Dublin for more than one hundred and fifty years before Stokes began to be prominent in Irish medicine. His father, Whitley Stokes, had been a scholar and Senior Fellow of Trinity College, and was prominent in the scientific, political, and literary circles of the Irish capital at the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century. He had been a member of the United Irishmen, but fearing that the revolutionary principles that were being propagated would only bring about an ineffectual rebellion, he separated himself from them, though years after when the United Irishmen came under the ban of the English government his previous connection with them cost him suspension from the fellowship. Later on, however, Whitley Stokes became the Regius Professor of the Practice of Medicine at Trinity College, a chair which he held until succeeded in the early forties of the nineteenth century by his son, William, the subject of this sketch. Something of the character of the man can be judged from the fact that though he was a distinguished physician and interested in every branch of science, taking an active part in the foundation of Trinity College Botanical Gardens, and being one of the founders of the Zoological Garden in Phoenix Park, he was also the author of a prize essay in reply to Tom Paine's Age of Reason, which was then attracting so much attention.

Our William Stokes was the second son of Whitley Stokes, and was born in Dublin in 1804. Like many another distinguished investigator in science, he was not looked upon as a bright student as a boy, and indeed could be prevailed upon to interest himself only very slightly in what is usually [{187}] considered to be the absolutely necessary fundamental work in education. He had a great love for poetry and romance, which indeed he carried with him all his life. The Scottish Border Ballads were his favorite reading, and he spent days in committing them to memory. Almost needless to say his apparent indolence and disinclination to any steady, methodical system of study were, as his son, the late Sir William Stokes, records in his biography of his father, sources of real concern to his parents, and caused his mother specially much anxious thought. One day while reading his favorite author, Sir Walter Scott, he fell asleep--to be awakened shortly after by some warm drops falling on his face. He started up to find his mother bending over him. It was her tears that had awakened him. Stung with remorse at having been the cause of so much sorrow to the mother whom he loved very dearly, his nature underwent an immediate and salutary change, and the dreamy, indolent boy became thereafter the ardent and enthusiastic student.

Stokes amply made up for any neglect of study there might have been in his boyhood days as soon as he entered upon the medical course to which he felt called. Here he came to be looked upon as one of the most ardent and painstaking of students.

His preliminary medical studies were begun in Dublin at the Meath Hospital. Chemistry he learned in the laboratory of Trinity College and anatomy in the Royal College of Surgeons. After spending several years thus he went to Glasgow, where for two years more he was occupied mainly at chemistry in the laboratory of Professor Thompson. Like most of the young Irishmen of his time, he next proceeded to Edinburgh in order to complete his education in clinical medicine and, if possible, obtain his medical degree from that famous institution. It was at Edinburgh, under the magnetic [{188}] influence of that great teacher, Allison, that Stokes began to develop the rare powers of original observation which at an early age placed him in the front rank of the best medical men of the time.

It is interesting to note that before he left Edinburgh he published his first medical work, a treatise on the use of the stethoscope, which was undoubtedly the means of bringing that instrument--and with it Laennec's fruitful system of physical diagnosis by means of auscultation--to the general notice of the English-speaking medical profession. Even after all that has been written on the subject, it remains a very valuable little book. It was dedicated to the famous Cullen, who had already published a series of cases which had been illustrated by the use of the stethoscope, and to whom Stokes probably owed the idea of the need for a formal little treatise on the subject. It is typical of the slow adoption of medical novelties even when they are of great importance that more than ten years afterward, old-time, though distinguished, physicians not infrequently made fun of Stokes for spending so much time in the study of cases with the stethoscope, since in their opinion it was little more than a toy. This was done in no bitter, carping spirit, but with the most friendly complacency and condescension. Stokes, however, intensely practical in his way, realized the value of the instrument, and as the result of his teaching it soon began to be more generally used; thus introducing into English-speaking medical circles that exact knowledge of diseases of the chest which can only be obtained by means of this little instrument and the methods of auscultation which are associated with it.

Immediately after graduation, Stokes settled down in his native city to practise. In 1826, when Stokes was only twenty-two, Dublin was visited by one of those epidemics of typhus fever which were so common in the first half of the [{189}] nineteenth century, and which consisted evidently, at least to a great degree, of what we now call typhoid fever, but intermixed with many cases of the real, dread typhus. The mortality in such epidemics, as we have reason to know from statistics here in New York, was always over twenty-five per cent, and often reached far above fifty per cent. The manner of contagion was unknown, only it was very well understood that those much in contact with the patients were likely to contract the disease. Among the poorer classes in Dublin the fever raged with virulence, but young Stokes devoted himself to the care of patients to an extent that severely taxed his physical powers of endurance. He devoted himself especially to the poorer classes. He did not contract the fever during the height of the epidemic in 1826, but he did in 1827, when it recurred, but fortunately he suffered in the mild form.

An epidemic of another disease, Asiatic cholera, the danger from which has been almost entirely removed by the progress of scientific medicine in modern times, followed not long after. It showed itself in Dublin, when Stokes was about twenty-five. He it was who recognized the first case of the disease, and sounded the note of warning that probably saved many lives by calling attention to the danger that was just beginning. Once more he devoted himself to the care of the patients, and, as with regard to typhus fever, wrote an account of his experiences, which is in itself a valuable medical document that shows the powers of observation of the young medical man.

Stokes spent himself in labor for the poor, and his deep interest in their welfare led him to sacrifice much time in order to organize medical charities for his unfortunate countrymen during the sad years of that awful fifth decade of the nineteenth century. His interest in this matter of [{190}] organization led him also to realize how much might be accomplished by public hygiene and efficient government sanitation. He recognized too how much would be accomplished along these lines if men were given proper training to make them specialists in these subjects. To Stokes then, almost more than to any other man, is due the development of public sanitation as a special science, and its organization for the proper safeguarding of public hygiene.

His efforts, especially with regard to the physicians of Ireland, who so nobly sacrificed, not unfrequently at the expense of other practice, their time, health, and often even their lives, in order to aid their stricken countrymen, form one of the best monuments to his tender sympathy and his goodness of heart as a man. His testimony before the Parliamentary Committee was at this time of the utmost value in securing due recognition of their services.

In 1843, when the Medical Charities Bill was brought forward, Stokes and Cusack united in the effort to procure for these devoted men an amelioration of the conditions under which they labored. They repaired to London to give evidence on the subject before the House of Commons. Both these friends had had to deplore the loss of many of their dearest and most promising pupils, who, after a short experience of country practice, had fallen victims to fever contracted in the discharge of their duties. They pleaded that in all justice the remuneration for attendance on fever hospitals and dispensaries should be fixed at a liberal scale, and that some provision ought to be made for the widows and children of gentlemen who had lost their lives in the public service. They collected statistics which proved that during a period of twenty-five years the mortality of the medical practitioners of Ireland was twenty-four per cent., while in most instances the cause of death was typhus fever. They [{191}] showed that, on the authority of Inspector-General Marshall, the comparative mortality of combatant officers in the army was less than half that, amounting to only ten and a quarter per cent. It was little to be wondered at that William Stokes should say, in answer to the chairman's question regarding the existence of any special risk to the medical officer in Ireland: "Such a number of my pupils have been cut off by typhus fever as to make me feel very uneasy when any of them take a dispensary office in Ireland. I look upon it almost as going into battle." Again he observes: "The medical practitioners in Ireland are placed in a position very different from and far more serious than that of their brethren in Great Britain. . . . . The Irish physician is often exposed to contagion in its most concentrated force when himself under the influence of cold, wet, fatigue, and hunger, as he labors among the poor, passing from hovel to hovel in wild and thinly-populated but extensive districts. He has often to ride for many hours in the worst weather, and at night, enduring great fatigue, while himself a prey to mental as well as physical suffering; for if we add to such labor the injurious influence which the knowledge of danger must have on the system of a man feeling that he is struck down by the disease under which he has seen so many sink, and tortured by the thought of leaving a young family unprovided for, we can understand how it happens that the country is so often deprived by death of so many of its best educated and most devoted servants."