William Harvey

by Sir D'Arcy Power

The report is signed by ten midwives, by Alexander Reid, M.D., the lecturer on Anatomy at the Barber Surgeons’ Hall, whom Harvey seems to have deputed to take his place, and by six surgeons evidently chosen from amongst the most eminent of those then practising in London.

The result of this report was that four of the seven convicted witches were pardoned, an exercise of mercy “which may have been due,” says Mr. Aveling, “to the enlightened views and prompt and energetic action of Dr. Harvey.”

There is no doubt that at this time and throughout his life Harvey practised every branch of his profession. That he was primarily a physician is evident; that he was a surgeon is shown by the fact that in his will he bequeathed to Dr. Scarborough his “silver instruments of surgery,” whilst in his writings he says, “Looking back upon the office of the arteries, I have occasionally, and against all expectation, completely cured enormous sarcoceles by the simple means of dividing or tying the little artery that supplied them, and so preventing all access of nourishment or spirit to the part affected, by which it came to pass that the tumour on the verge of mortification was afterwards easily extirpated with the knife or searing iron.” No one, reading his treatise on Development, can doubt for a moment that he was well versed in the diseases of women and in such practical midwifery as the prejudices and habits of the time allowed him to become familiar. Specialism, indeed, as it is now understood in England, did not exist at this time, though there was a debased form in which men attended only to outward injuries or to internal complaints.

Harvey sometimes got into trouble with his cases, as must always happen even to the most experienced. The records of the Barber Surgeons’ Company contain the following notice under the date 17th of November, 1635. It has the marginal note, “Dr. Harvey’s ill practise”:—

“This day Wm. Kellett being called here in Court for not making presentation of one of Mr. Kinnersley’s maids that died in his charge, he said here in Court that Mr. Doctor Harvey being called to the patient did upon his view of the patient say, that by means of a boulster [poultice?] the tumour on the temporal muscle could be discussed and his opinion was that there was no fracture but the vomiting came by reason of the foulness of the stomach and to that purpose prescribed physic by Briscoe the Apothecary, so the patient died by ill practice, the fracture being neglected and the Company not called to the view.” When a person was dangerously ill of a surgical disease in London it was long the custom for the practitioner to call in those surgeons who held an official position in the Barber Surgeons’ Company. This was called “viewing” the patient. It divided the responsibility whilst it ensured that everything possible was done for the relief of the patient.

In this year too Harvey was ordered by the King to examine the body of Thomas Parr, who is said to have died at the extraordinary age of 152 years and nine months, having survived through the reigns of nine princes. He had lived frugally in Shropshire until shortly before his death, when he was brought to London by Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel, who showed him to the King. Harvey examined the body on the 16th of November, 1635, the birthday—as he is careful to note—of Her Serene Highness Henrietta Maria, Queen of Great Britain, France, and Ireland. The notes of the autopsy came into the possession of Harvey’s nephew Michael, who presented them to Dr. Bett, and they were not printed until 1669, when they were published in Dr. Bett’s work “On the Source and Quality of the Blood.” The notes give a clear account of the appearances seen upon opening the body, and the very practical conclusion is drawn that as all the internal parts seemed so healthy the old man might have escaped paying the debt due to nature for some little time longer if nothing had happened to interfere with his usual habits. His death is therefore attributed to the change from the pure air of Shropshire to that of London, and to the alteration in his diet which necessarily attended his residence in the house of a great nobleman.

The mutual interest taken by the Earl of Arundel and Harvey in old Parr may have led to the friendship which existed between the two men; perhaps, too, Lord Arundel—the prince of art collectors, to whom we owe the Arundel marbles—had detected in Harvey some similar love of art which rendered him a kindred spirit. It is clear that some bond of union existed, for in the following year—1636—Lord Arundel was sent to Vienna as Ambassador Extraordinary to the Emperor Ferdinand in connection with the peace which the Protestant States of Germany had concluded in 1635. The mission left England in April, 1636; and the Clarendon State Papers contain a letter dated from Cologne in May in which Lord Arundel speaks of a visit to the Jesuits’ new college and church, where he says “they received me with all civility,” and then adds jokingly, “I found in the College little Doctor Harvey, who means to convert them.” There are no means of knowing when or why Harvey left England, but he seems to have attached himself to the Embassy and to have visited with it the principal cities on the way to Vienna.

He used the opportunity to make the acquaintance of the leading scientific men in Germany, as he had already introduced himself to those in France on a former journey. On the 20th of May, 1636, he was at Nuremberg, where he wrote to Caspar Hofmann offering to demonstrate the circulation of the blood. He has heard, he says, that Hofmann complained of his theory, that “he impeached and condemned Nature of folly and error, and that he had imputed to her the character of a most clumsy and inefficient artificer in suffering the blood to become recrudescent, and making it return again and again to the heart in order to be reconcocted only to grow effete again in the arterial system: thus uselessly spoiling the perfectly made blood merely to find her something to do.” Tradition says that Harvey actually gave this demonstration in public, and that it proved satisfactory to every one except to Hofmann himself. The old man—then past the grand climacteric—remained unconvinced, and as he continued to urge objections Harvey at length threw down his knife and walked out of the theatre.

We are indebted to Aubrey for the following anecdote, which is probably more true than some of his other statements about Harvey, for it is in exact accordance with what we know of his habits. Aubrey says that one of the Ambassador’s gentlemen, Mr. William Hollar—the celebrated painter—told him that in this voyage “Dr. Harvey would still be making observations of strange trees and plants, earths, &c., and sometimes [he was] like to be lost. So that my Lord Ambassador would be really angry with him, for there was not only a danger of thieves, but also of wild beasts.” How real the danger was may be gauged by remembering that the party was passing through the country devastated by the Thirty Years’ War, which had still to drag out its disastrous length until it was brought to a close by the peace of Westphalia in 1648—a time so productive of lawlessness that it was only two years since Wallenstein, the great Commander-in-chief of the Imperial forces, had been murdered by those who were afterwards publicly rewarded by his Imperial master.

Harvey parted company with the Embassy at Ratisbon, for in a letter dated from there he is spoken of as “Honest little Harvey whom the Earl is sending to Italy about some pictures for his Majesty.” From Ratisbon he proceeded to Rome, where the pilgrims’ book at the English College shows that he dined in the refectory on the 5th of October, 1636. Dr. Ent dined there the same night. The two travellers probably met by arrangement, for Ent was born at Sandwich, closely allied as a Cinque Port to Folkestone, Harvey’s native home. He was educated too in Cambridge—at Sidney Sussex College—and after five years at Padua he took his degree of Doctor of Physic on the 28th of April, 1636. Harvey and Ent had therefore much in common, and they remained firm friends until Harvey died. Ent’s love for Harvey led him to defend the doctrine of the circulation against the attacks of Parisanus; Harvey’s love for Ent caused him to entrust to him the essay on Development; to be printed or preserved unpublished as Ent should think most fit.