People thus enchanted do not like to be brought to their senses; and medical men, who in 1800 attested the perpetual prophylaxy of cowpox, were naturally very unwilling to be proved deceivers and deceived. When cases of smallpox were reported as following vaccination, they at first denied the possibility, saying that either there had been no vaccination, or that the smallpox was not smallpox. On the other hand, the Smallpoxers who had been snuffed out by the Cowpoxers, revived in presence of the discovered impotence of the new practice, and stoutly maintained, and cruelly demonstrated that unquestionable vaccinations were followed by unquestionable smallpox. It needs little acquaintance with human nature to see unlimited elements of bitterness in these conditions. To be convicted of imposture does not beget equanimity, nor contradiction as to plain matter-of-fact; and thus convicted were the Cowpoxers and thus contradicted were the Smallpoxers.
The Edinburgh reviewer described Dr. Moseley’s treatise on cowpox as blending “the ravings of Bedlam with the tropes of Billingsgate.” Some Billingsgate I concede, but not Bedlam at all. Much however depends on the point of view. Vaccination if regarded as a blessing in which the inspiration of heaven was consummated in the salvation of the human race from smallpox,[170] resistance thereto might appear, as Carlyle observes of creatures under enchantment, as “malignantly insane.”
Dr. Moseley’s book,[171] it is to be allowed, was singularly exasperating. He had spoken against cowpox from the outset, and was charged with condemning that of which he knew nothing; to which he cogently replied that he could scarcely know less than the gang of medical men who attested its perpetual efficacy in the newspapers in 1800 before they had any proper experience of it whatever. If his scepticism was premature, what was their credulity? Moseley had patience: no argument could be heard in the rage that set in for the new salvation. “Cowpox, I admit, is not contagious,” he said, “but cow-mania is.” When, however, in process of time it was seen in hundreds of cases that cowpox conferred no immunity from smallpox, he published in 1804 Lues Bovilla—a somewhat pompous treatise, with frequent touches of superfluous learning, and permeated with the irritating superiority of the true prophet—“You see it has turned out just as I predicted.” Nor was he content to make general assertions: he specified the names and addresses of those who had been correctly vaccinated, or had taken cowpox from the cow, and had subsequently suffered from smallpox with their neighbours; also of cases of severe illness, injury, and death resulting from vaccination. Bluster was idle in presence of such facts. Even the Royal Jennerians had to eat humble pie, for in their Report, dated 2nd January, 1806, we read—
It is admitted by the Committee that a few cases have been brought before them of persons having the Smallpox who had apparently passed through the Cowpox in a regular way.
With so much admitted by such furious fanatics, what might not be inferred!
Moseley was held in high esteem alike by the profession and the public, and his judgment enforced by so much serious evidence contributed heavily to the discredit of vaccination, and unfortunately to the resumption of variolous inoculation. That the reaction was extensive, especially in London, appears from numerous contemporary testimonies, which Moseley confirms in saying—
The people at large are not to be reproached for putting their faith in this splendid imposition on humanity; and to the credit of their discernment and parental feelings, the middle and inferior classes have taken precedence in renouncing the delusion. At this moment, unless attacked by surprise, or with threats, or cajoled by artifice (all of which have been practised on them) there are now none among them in London and the adjacent villages who will expose their children to Cowpox Inoculation.
Rowland Hill was a religious and philanthropic notable in those days, and in common with many of his kind, was an enthusiastic vaccinator. A leading spirit in the Royal Jennerian Society, he had the school-room of Surrey Chapel constituted a vaccination station whereat Dr. Walker officiated. Nor was he content to patronise the practice, but was himself an energetic operator. Speaking at the annual meeting of the Jennerian Society, 17th May, 1806, he said—
“With my own hands I have vaccinated upwards of 5000 persons,” and, lifting up his eyes to heaven, exclaimed, “I solemnly declare before God, I have not had a failure in a single instance. What then shall we say of the false and daring publications of those who denounce the benign practice, and how shall they answer for their conduct to their King, their Country, and their God!”
Hill and Jenner were great friends. Hill visited Jenner at Berkeley, and Jenner heard Hill when he preached at Cheltenham. Introducing Jenner to a nobleman, Hill remarked—