MEDICAL PRACTICE IN OTAGO AND SOUTHLAND IN THE EARLY DAYS.

Otago Witness, Issue 3509, 14 June 1921, Page 53

MEDICAL PRACTICE IN OTAGO AND SOUTHLAND IN THE EARLY DAYS.

By

Robert Valpy Fulton,

LXI.— HOCKEN THE HISTORIAN (Continued.) In the “sixties,” fires were very common and much loss of life occurred, and Dr Hocken had a great many inquests to attend. One of the first of these was in February, 1863, when a conflagration took place in Butement’s shop in Princes street, just abuot the position of the Bank of New South Wales of today. There were many that year, and mention will be made of them later on. There were also many wrecks, the natural consequence of the great increase in shipping. Numbers of small vessels arrived, manned by officers and men to whom the coast was strange, as witness the following list: —In 1861. the p.s. Ada was wrecked at Molyneux; s.s. Victory at Wickliffe Bay; the Oberon in Bluff harbour; the schooner Pioneer in the mouth of the Clutha, and the s.s. Oscar in New River. In 1862, the Genevieve, the very first ship to come direct from Mauritius with a cargo of sugar for Cargills and Co., was wrecked at the Heads; the Ocean Chief was burned in Bluff harbour, the ship Flying Mist at the Bluff, and the Guiding Star in the New River. In 1863, the schooner Tamar, from Hobart, was wrecked at the Heads; p.s. Planet at Taieri Mouth; Pride of the Yarra in the harbour; the schooner Highland Lassie in New River. The Brig Lochinvar at Port William; s.s. Scotia, which had arrived from Glasgow and was the first of the Otago Steam Company’s fleet, put in her appearance at the Heads on March 11, 1864, and was wrecked near the entrance to Bluff harbour on June 2. We need not go further than to say that the authorities, alarmed at the loss of life on coast line and in harbour, bestirred themselves, and the foundation of Taiaroa Heads lighthouse was laid on June 29. 18('" and on August 4, 1865, Dog Island light ouse was illuminated for the first time. It is easy for us to account for much of the shipping casualty list when we think of the condition of the coast line in those days, at all times dangerous in the dark, what must it have been when there were no lighthouses, no beacons, no guiding lights or fairway lights. The mariner must have had to literally feel his way into one of our harbours or river mouths with no flagstaff's, no guiding buoys or other means of knowing where the channel or where a sudden shoal would land the ship in serious difficulty, possibly even resulting in total wreck.

In a former article we referred to the curious way in which those who aspired to political honours in the early days were accustomed to what fine might call “ringing the changes,” and in this connection the following will interest our readers :—On March 28, 1863, the election for Dunedin North and Suburbs resulted in the return of Major Richardson as M. Dunedin South and Suburbs, Reynolds 77. Vogel 31, Gotten 11. For the Provincial Council, Waikouaiti. Vogel 21, McGlashan 16. On June 20, Mr Reynolds must have resigned from the House of Representatives, for we find Dunedin South and Surburhs, Paterson 105. Vogel 72. On September 4, Dunedin North and Suburbs, Vogel unopposed. The story we have heard is that he went to the Dunedin North electorate to act as Returning Officer, and finding no one nominated, got a proposer and seconder, and, there being no other nomination, declared himself dulv elected. This they say was the first start of this extremely able man, who pushed his way to the front, and eventually became Premier of N. He was at first rather restless or headstrong, for we find the Provincial Council censuring him in October, 1863, for contempt of the privileges of the House. The natural result of the overflow of the /Province by population from other parts was a tremendous growth of commerce, and enormous activity in all wholesale and retail businesses in the town: the money turnover of the merchants was incredible; the wharves were crowded with vessels great and small. Anvone who owned a brig or a schooner was in a fair way to make a fortune. M oney was spent like water, everything was at a high price, so that what seems to us extra good pay for a doctor was discounted by the cost of living, and the appalling difficulties of travel. Long distances across the “Snowy Mountains” to Waikouaiti: down the heavily clad Peninsula in soaking rain : along wretched tracks or through almost impenetrable bush : sometimes a quarter of the way to P ut Chalmers in a heavy whale boat in tile teeth of a gale, midst the spume from the flying crests of the “white horses.” and the rest op foot up the side of the hills closely verdtired as thev then were to the very water’s edge. Over Halfway Bush to the Taieri in a whirlwind of snow, across swamp and river benight or day Dr Hocken walked or rode. In the days when specialism was unknown he parti' tilarly devoted himself to the diseases and ailments of women and children, and the little doctor was much loved bv the guid wives of the settlement for his gentle courtesy, invariably good temper am! untiring patience. TTc used to tell this story of early Otago medical practice, hut whether about himself or ane of his colleagues we do not know. Called one night to one of those cases w-hi'-h necessitate hours of waiting, the doctor looked in vain for shelter for his fir rse. A fearful night with piercing wind, •now, and sleet, no shelter for the animal Bear the. cottage, a bleak hillside, with Bothing to break the wind, and no horse •over available he asked permission to lead &-S docile animal inside the clay-floored

kitchen, the only “other room” in the wattle and daub house of two rooms. At a word his horse lay promptly down, and the worthy doctor, in default of even a box or a three legged stool, seated himself across the horse’s withers and prepared for a night of it. The large open fireplace or ingle with blazing logs of broadleaf made things look cheerful, and the “reek from the lum’ ’ smelt good to the half frozen traveller. A great chain hung from the chimney baulk and supported a large pot, a lesser one, a kettle, a “waggitywa” clock ticked merrily close at hand and the anxious “father to be” disappeared into the other room to announce the arrival of the doctor. Now the medical man, though well qualified, had the ambition to proceed to a higher university degree, and for this Greek, as a compulsory subject, had to be laboriously “ground up,” he therefore was accustomed to carry in his pocket a small Greek Lexicon and Xenophon’s Anabasis, and, on occasions such as this, of which he had many, he endeavoured to “improve the shining hour.” He now pulled his books from his pockets and became immersed in the daily progress of the army of the Greeks through Mesopotamia towards the Black Sea. He had not, however, advanced more than “three parasangs” before the ancient dame, who in those days took the place of the welltrained St. Helens nurse of to-day, put her head out of the bedroom door, and had a “keek” at him, and shaking her head said something t-o the quaking man beside her which the doctor could not catch, and pointed to the book in the doctor’s hand. The cottager straightened himself up, as though bracing himself for a difficult task, and approaching the doctor his countenance changed and assumed an almost menacing- aspect, he addressed him in words somewhat to this effect: “Look ye here ma mannie, a’ didna’ ken when a’ brocht ye a’ the wye frae the toon that ye war but a puir student body, a more callant who had tae lairn his warlc an’ to tak’ his buiks in his bit pooch. Ma guid wife is sail’ forfoughten wi’ her pains the noo, an’ is wantin’ a man wha kens his job, and no has to read it o’er like they Embro’ students gin they rin doon the Coo-gate to the puir folk in trouble. Moont yer bit pony, and awa’ do-on the knowe to the toon and tak tent that ye send us a fully ‘schuled man frae the college.’ Ma wifie kenned that ye were weel bespoken, and when she trvsted ye was sae ta’en wi’ yer glib tongue, and man ye eheepit sae brawly a’ the wye frae the toon, I never thccht to speer gin ye had yer sheepskin, yer lines from the college, ye ken ; aiblins ye ken mail* than she daes herseJ,’ but the howdie gars me put ye ben the noo, an’ yer to fetch a man wha surely kens the wark. Rin awa man, rin awa,’ afore I strike ye, there’s a wheen o’ thae half trained collegers i’ the toon, they’re a’ diggers the noo, an’ t’no’ the maist o’ them are townies o’ the wife’s, she could na’ thole yin o’ them to come nigh her. Whiles I thocht ye were truly licensed, an’ ’am fair distrackit for 1 fear that ye’ll no get anither doctor till the morn’s morn. Hoots awa’ mon! A eanna’ bide the sight o’ ye settin’ up for a doctor yersel’” The doctor inwardly convulsed with laughter, kept a grave face for he felt that it was no laughing matter to the almost frantic crofter whose face was bathed in perspiration in spite of the cold, and it took him some time to explain matters, and to assure the irate Scot that he was really qualified, and particularly so in obstetrics, and that be was in lawful possession of several “sheepskins.” .His explanation of his studies in Greek, which might as well have been Chinese to the crofter, was somewhat prolonged, and in the midst of bis demonstrations that the Greek characters and curious words had nothing whatever to do with the case in progress, a sudden cry from the other room and a call from “the auld howdie” “quick doctor! oh ! the wean’s here,” ended the discussion, and gave the sorely tried doctor a chance to demonstrate that he really knew his job. The narrator of the story used to say that he never forgot the look on the man’s fae.e, a look of mingled fear, anger, doubt, turning to increasingrage as he worked himself up, and that he momentarily expected to be grasped by the collar and the .seat of the pants and heaved out into the snow, to be leisurely followed bv his faithful horse which all the time, apparently had been sound asleep. Daybreak came before the doctor was ready for a hearty breakfast and waiting wi’ a wame that was sair loom he was set to watch the red sand rin i’ the egg glass, and when the operation was over he was astounded to find a huge willow-pattern dish of boiled eggs set before him. “Help ye’sel noo ma mannie.” said the host, now in t-ho height of friendliness and good temper, for the doctor had received a “very high degree,” and was well spoken of by granny, and the guid wife herself, and had won all hearts by tactfully saying “there’s a boy for you, look at his legs, a splendid specimen, ten pound, if he is an ounce, man what a farmer* he’ll make, etc.” The auld howdie bustled round and pouring out a steaming cup of tea did her best with pleasant chat to efface the memory of the unfortunate episode of the night before, she was really kind-hearted, “wrinkled was her brow, her ancient head was russet gray, but her auld Scots bliiid was true.” The doctor aghast at- the great disli of -eggs before him assured the crofter that he could not eat Half nor even quarter of the dish full, to sav nothing of the thick slices of bread, which granny was cutting and lavishly buttering, the man replied, “boots awa’ man, aiblins there’ll bo but twa three oot o’ the dizzen that’s guid, chip awa’ man, chip awa’ whiles they’re guid. and whiles they’re no, ye’ll sune ken wliilka anes are no sweet.”

The “Dowdies” who, according to some authorities received the name from their first salutation to the “cryin’ wumman,” “how d’ ye fin’ yersel’ the morn?” occupied, in those days, a most importantposition, and the few who remain are even now clung to by the “auld folk,” who beg as a great favour their attendance upon

their daughters and grand-daughters. They are fast dying out in Otago, though, ;as is natural, they have lingered here perhaps longer than in any other part of the Dominion. In their day they did great work, and had many good points, and it must always be remembered that their faults were largely due to lack of education and entire absence of scientific training. .As a class they were terrified at the very idea of the sufferer's partaking of a teaspoonful of cold water, an open window was a deadly menace and productive of “weids,” shivers or chills; whisky was a common remedy for many ailments of mother and child ; a teaspoonful with sugar was a “gran’ thing for the wean, and gaed it a fine sweet mooth if ta’en in the morn.” “Cauld sheets” were anathema, and in consequence the “claes were changit” as seldom as was possible; a “comforter” for the infant in the shape of a mess of bread and sugar or “twa three” raisins was fastened in a piece of muslin, securelyanchored to the child’s bib, ' this gave great satisfaction to the wean, but was a distinct source of danger as the “cable” was sometimes made too long and the child half choked in consequence. The same “comforter” was a fruitful source of “thrush” in the mouth, a parasitic fungus due mostly to neglect on the part of the attendant, and according to the auld wives, necessarily always present “at birth and death.” We can recall one occasion on which the howdie said to the doctor “what day will the wean get the thrush, doctor” ? “The day you go out of this quick and lively,” responded the doctor, a peppery little Welshman. These old women in their day served their employers honestly, little or nothing did they know of the theory, but much of the practice of mid-wifery. Kindly and always

willing to help, they gave their services free in a vast number of cases for very love of humanity. Rough as was the life of the doctor, that of the howdie was worse, turned out at the first sign of trouble she had often to trudge long distances by night or day, she had no horse or buggy, and when the doctor had flushed his work and gone, the auld wife’s had only just begun, for a wailing child might need attention for hours, and the life of the mother depended upon her getting- sleep, which neglect of the baby by the nurse would effectually prevent. A now prosperous farmer, not a hundred miles from Mosgiel tells the following tale of his early clays, when only a ploughman on wages, he waited the arrival of his first born. “Rise, John and rin for the howdie, my pains is here,”’ said Janet one bitter night. John rose, and looked through the window and “unsnec-ked the door” a “bare twa” inches. “Loch, Janet, wumman, it’s an awful night to gang ben—can ye no wait till the morn’s morn?” John, however, had to gang ben and fetch the guid howdie through “snaw” and wind and to-day the family of 11 "buirdly chiels and c-lever-hizzies,” the maist o’ them wi’ weans o’ their ain,” are a tribute, to the care and attention of the auld wife who ushered most of them into the world away back in the “sixties and seventies.” Few of these nurses had any training whatever beyond what was given by Purdie Richardson, Hulme, Burns or Hocken, who, with others who followed after, carefully taught the most intelligent, the why and wherefore of personal cleanliness, and later the need for antiseptics, and it was indeed due to this attention and industry that so many line families were reared, so many of our splendid pioneer women came safely through the perils of maternity and are spared to us to-day, healthy, vigorous and buxom, even when nearing the allotted span of three score years and ten. So far as the “auld nurses” in Dunedin were concerned, there were many scrupulously clean, careful and entirely trustworthy, deferential to the doctor when he was in attendance, but if there was no doctor aske-d for or “trvsted,” and the nurse was alone responsible, who then so autocratic, and so implicitly obeyed as the “howdie”’ It were almost invidious to give names, but we recall a few. and mention those of others which have been furnished us by sone who knew them well, and have kindly recollections of their ministrations. They were good old dames who “did their bit,” and passed on “over the divide,” to their “king rest” : —Mrs Lindson, in the N.E. Valley; Mrs Coombe, Mrs Macfie, Maitland street; Mrs Oliver, Bell Hill ; Mrs Patterson, York place; Mrs Jack, Mrs Parker, in lower Cargill street; Mrs Stokes at Musselburgh: Mrs Chitty and Mrs Card no, Mrs Popham, and Mrs Wragge at Caversham ; Mrs Gordon, who lived to be over 100 in spite of her long trips and rough experiences, at West Taieri in the “fifties and sixties;” Mrs Gair and Mrs Grigg, airs Winmill and Mrs West with many others in the city. Kindly bodies who now sleep their last sleep, their well earned surcease from toil and suffering in the Northern and Southern Cemeteries. Peace be to their ashes. Like the key of the dentist, the wooden stethoscope of the physician, the four wheeler in the streets, the old top-hatted “bleeding and cupping” doctor, they have passed from our midst, and the place thereof shall know them no more. (To be Continued.)