Dr. David Hosack, Physician to Hamilton and Burr

Posted on January 21, 2016 by nyamhistorymed

By Johanna Goldberg, Information Services Librarian

With Hamilton-mania sweeping the nation, we’re not throwing away our shot to discuss the physician present at the infamous 1804 Hamilton-Burr duel, Dr. David Hosack.

David Hosack. In: Eliot, Portraits of Noted Physicians of New York, 1750-1900.

Hosack was born in New York City in 1769. Like Alexander Hamilton, he attended Kings College (now Columbia University), then transferred to Princeton. After graduating in 1789, he received his medical education from the University of Pennsylvania.¹ He briefly practiced in Alexandria, Virginia and New York, then went to Edinburgh and London to further his medical education. These travels both increased his medical knowledge and nurtured his interest in botany and botanical gardens. In 1801, this life-long interest led to Hosack’s founding of the Elgin Botanical Garden, the first garden of its kind in the United States, located where Rockefeller Center stands today.^1,2

By 1794, Hosack had returned to New York City. He formed a medical practice with noted physician Samuel Bard and gained a reputation for the successful treatment of yellow fever.² As his practice grew, he counted among his patients New York’s elite. Not only did Hosack provide care for Hamilton and his family (including at the deathbeds of both Hamilton and his son, Philip, after their two deadly duels), he also served as physician to Aaron Burr and his daughter and close confidant, Theodosia Burr Alston.³ Our collection includes numerous manuscript materials from Hosack relating to his practice, including copies of a letter to Theodosia and one to her husband, Joseph Alston. These letters give a sense of Hosack’s warmth and dedication to his patients.

Theodosia Burr Alston, 1802. Portrait by John Vanderlyn. Courtesy of the New-York Historical Society.

Theodosia was an educated woman; her father supervised her rigorous studies. In 1801 at age 18, she married Joseph Alston, 22, a member of the South Carolina legislature and a future governor of the state. After the birth of their son Aaron Burr Alston in 1802, Theodosia’s health declined.⁴

Hosack’s letter to Joseph Alston from June 12, 1808 begins: “Mrs. Alston having been under my care as her physician, you will naturally expect from me some account of her situation.” Theodosia had recently traveled to New York, and text that follows describes the effect of her journey on her health:

When she arrived she was much exhausted by the fatigue of her voyages—added to the diseases under which she labors—but by change of climate I hope she is likely to be benefited—her appetite tho still bad is somewhat improved—the pain on her right side and shoulder still continue troublesome, attended occasionally with violent spasms of the stomach and her other complaints, I mean those of the womb, remain as before—her general appearance is somewhat improved. My attentions hitherto have been directed to the general state of her health, when that is mended she will be enabled to make use of such remedies as are calculated to remove her local diseases—with the views of improving her strength. I have advised her to pass a few weeks at the Ballston Springs—she has already made some use of the waters and finds them to agree with her—but drinking them at the springs will be more serviceable to her—they are especially calculated to improve her appetite and strength, and in some instances have been found beneficial in obstructions both of the liver and womb which are her complaints—yesterday she left New York on her way to the springs—should any thing of importance occur and I receive information of it, you may expect again to her from me.

I am Dear Sir with respect and esteem

Your

David Hosack

Recto and verso of a copy of David Hosack's letter to Joseph Alston. In: D. Hosack. Copies of Letters and Documents 1801-1826.

Recto and verso of a copy of David Hosack’s June 12, 1808 letter to Joseph Alston. In: D. Hosack. Copies of Letters and Documents, 1801-1826. Click to enlarge.

By August 20, Theodosia’s health improved sufficiently that Hosack provided her with one of the remedies mentioned in his letter to her husband two months prior. The copy of the letter to Theodosia (written in a messier hand than the one to her husband) tells her what to eat and avoid while on the medication (“be careful to avoid acids and stimulant foods—lemonade, the acid fruits – spices,” instead eating “soups – milk – eggs – arrowroot – tapioca – rice – puddings etc.”). Hosack also recommended that two to three baths per week would “be useful in lessening your pain at the same time that it will give more effect to the medicine now directed.”

David Hosack’s August 20, 1808 letter to Theodosia Burr Alston. In: D. Hosack. Copies of Letters and Documents, 1801-1826. Click to enlarge.

Theodosia died young, but not due to her lingering post-partum health problems. In January 1813, just seven months after the death of her son, she was aboard the ship Patriot when it disappeared off the coast of Cape Hatteras on its way to New York. While stormy weather most likely caused the ship’s loss, some believed that pirates were to blame.^4,5

Portion of page 59 of the January 12, 1913 New York Times. Click to enlarge.

David Hosack died of a stroke in 1835.¹ His son, pioneering surgeon Alexander Eddy Hosack, took on much of his father’s practice, including the care of Aaron Burr.^6,7 Alexander’s New York Times obituary noted:

It is said that on one occasion [Alexander Hosack] asked Mr. Burr if he did not experience contrition at times for having shot Hamilton. Burr, with an expression of stern feeling, replied with emphasis: ‘No, Sir; I could not regret it. Twice he crossed my path. He brought it on himself.’

Aside from his treatment of elite patients like Burr, Alexander Hosack (1805–1871) made a name for himself through his medical endeavors. Like his father, he received his medical degree from the University of Pennsylvania, after which he worked as a doctor in Paris for three years. He was the first doctor in New York City to use ether during surgery, and he developed a number of surgical instruments. In addition, he helped establish the Emigrants’ Hospital on Ward’s Island.⁶

The Hosack name lives on at the Academy. In 1885, the estate of Celine B. Hosack, widow of Alexander, bequeathed $70,000 to the Academy for a new building or an auditorium within that building.⁸ The original Hosack Hall was on West 43^rd Street, in the Academy’s home from 1890 until 1926. When the Academy moved to its current location in 1926, the new auditorium retained a name deeply embedded in American and medical history.

Left: Hosack Hall on West 43rd St. Image in Van Ingen, The New York Academy of Medicine: Its first hundred years, 1949. Right: Hosack Hall Today, at 1216 Fifth Avenue.

Left: Hosack Hall on West 43rd Street. Image in Van Ingen, The New York Academy of Medicine: Its first hundred years, 1949. Right: Hosack Hall today, at 1216 Fifth Avenue. Click to enlarge.

References

1. Jeffe ER. Hamilton’s physician: David Hosack, Renaissance man of early New York. New-York J Am History. 2004;Spring(3):54–58. Available at: http://www.alexanderhamiltonexhibition.org/about/Jeffe – Hamiltoss Physician.pdf. Accessed January 15, 2016.

2. Hosack AE. A memoir of the late David Hosack. Lindsay & Blakiston; 1861. Available at: https://books.google.com/books?id=o4A22YJI53YC&pgis=1. Accessed January 19, 2016.

3. Garrison FH. David Hosack. Bull N Y Acad Med. 1925;1(5):i4–171. Available at: http://www.pubmedcentral.nih.gov/articlerender.fcgi?artid=2387360&tool=pmcentrez&rendertype=abstract. Accessed January 15, 2016.

4. James ET. Notable American Women, 1607-1950: A Biographical Dictionary, Volume 1. Cambridge: Harvard University Press; 1971. Available at: https://books.google.com/books?id=rVLOhGt1BX0C&pgis=1. Accessed January 19, 2016.

5. Mystery of Aaron Burr’s daughter baffles a century. New York Times. http://timesmachine.nytimes.com/timesmachine/1913/01/12/100604845.html?pageNumber=59. Published January 12, 1913. Accessed January 15, 2016.

6. Alexander Eddy Hosack, M.D. New York Times. http://timesmachine.nytimes.com/timesmachine/1871/03/07/78760572.html. Published March 7, 1871. Accessed January 15, 2016.

7. Obituaries. Med Surg Report. 1871;24(734):262. Available at: https://books.google.com/books?id=_kKgAAAAMAAJ&pgis=1. Accessed January 19, 2016.

8. Van Ingen P. The New York Academy of Medicine: Its first hundred years. New York: Columbia University Press; 1949.

The Nightmare of Imminent Baldness

Posted on January 19, 2016 by nyamhistorymed

By Johanna Goldberg, Information Services Librarian

While visiting the Coney Island exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum (highly recommended), the caption of a photograph caught my eye:

“The Coney Island Polar Bear Club, the earliest organization of its kind, was founded in 1903 by Bernarr Macfadden, known as the “Father of Physical Culture.” An early advocate for outdoor exercise, Macfadden believed that taking a dip in the ocean during the winter could restore one’s immunity and stamina.”

The Academy Library has a substantial collection on the history of exercise, so it’s no surprise that we have more than 20 books by Macfadden. What was surprising was that two of the books are about the wellbeing of an unexpected physical characteristic—hair.

Bernarr Macfadden in the 1901 and 1922 editions of Hair Culture.

The 1901 edition of Macfadden’s New Hair Culture: Rational Natural Methods for Cultivating Strength and Luxuriance of the Hair begins with a disclaimer that wouldn’t sound out of place in a contemporary infomercial:

Disclaimer in Macfadden’s 1901 Hair Culture.

The 1922 volume, Hair Culture: Rational Methods for Growing the Hair and for Developing its Strength and Beauty, does not include a disclaimer. But, like any great salesman, Macfadden lets us know that he’s not just the inventor of his method, he’s also a user:

I can assure the reader that I can speak with authority on the subject, from experiences with the particular condition which I, myself, have had. Several years previous to the writing of this book my hair began to fall out at an alarming rate.

I was greatly disturbed. The nightmare of imminent baldness was with me constantly.

I was in such a desperate frame of mind that I even bought a bottle of a hair remedy that was well advertised at the time, but after one application I threw it out an open window and began to apply my intelligence to the solution of the problem that then was indeed serious in my mind. …. The method that I finally evolved forms the basis of this book, and is gone into with painstaking detail.¹

To maintain hair health, Macfadden recommends such procedures as scalp massage, regular brushing, “sun baths,” exposure to fresh air, removal of dead hair, and “mechanical and electrical stimulation” through “the use of a well made mechanical vibrator, using a broad soft rubber disk” (sadly, he does not include an image of such a vibrator).^1,2

“Massaging scalp with a complexion roller.” From Macfadden’s 1901 Hair Culture, page 33.

The 1901 edition includes an entire chapter on how to strengthen hair by pulling it: “Nothing gives the scalp the sensation of being so thoroughly and effectively awakened.” Inserting your spread fingers and closing them together “slightly raises the scalp from the skull, and at every point where the scalp is thus raised, the circulation is greatly accelerated.”²

“Inserted fingers closed lightly upon the hair.” From page 38 of the 1901 Hair Culture.

“Hair pulling treatment for men.” From page 129 of the 1922 Hair Culture.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Macfadden did not approve of applying heat or bleach to the hair. “If Nature gave a girl dark hair, she should accept the gift gratefully, remembering that some of the greatest beauties in history were also thus blessed.” But Nature could be improved upon in non-harmful ways, as through “the little curl-papers and curling kids”: “These are harmless enough, and if they make a pretty girl any prettier than Nature made her, they are entitled to three hearty cheers.”¹

Macfadden did not approve of hot-dry apparatuses like the one shown on page 168 of the 1922 Hair Culture.

Macfadden did not approve of hot-dry apparatuses like the one shown on page 168 of his 1922 Hair Culture.

Learn more about Macfadden—his fitness empire; his scandalous tabloid; his cult, “Cosmotarianism”—in this 2013 Esquire article.

References

1. Macfadden B. Hair culture: rational methods for growing the hair and for developing its strength and beauty. New York: Physical culture corporation; 1922.

2. Macfadden B. Macfadden’s new hair culture: Rational, Natural Methods for Cultivating Strength and Luxuriance of the Hair. New York: Physical Culture Publishing; 1901.

At the Crossroads of Art and Medicine

Posted on January 14, 2016 by nyamhistorymed

By Anne Garner, Curator, Center for the History of Medicine and Public Health

Our collections have always reflected the strong relationship between medicine and visual culture. Accordingly, since its creation in 2012 our blog has frequently taken up the intersection between medicine and art as subject. Below, we link below to a few posts that explore these crucial connections.

Most recently, Caitlin Dover featured The New York Academy of Medicine’s collections of illustrated medical books on the Guggenheim’s blog in “Doctors Without Borders: Exploring Connections Between Art and Medicine.” Her findings are in part the fruit of a visit with the Academy’s Historical Collections Librarian Arlene Shaner, who showed her a selection of books and ephemera from our Drs. Barry and Bobbi Coller Rare Book Reading Room, showcasing the connection between physicians and artwork.

Robert Latou Dickinson sketch of the Rare Book Room on its opening in 1933, from the Academy’s Annual Report, 1933.

Our extensive collection of anatomical atlases demonstrates the close relationships of physicians and artists, who frequently collaborated to create works both for students of medicine and of art. These atlases show both the successes and failures of collaborations between anatomists and artists who worked together to communicate new medical knowledge. For Vesalius, the collaboration was a great success. In a guest post from 2015, our 2014–2015 Helfand Research Fellow Laura Robson discusses the way Andreas Vesalius’ great milestone work of 1543, De Humani Corporis Fabrica, relies on the synergy between plates and text, and how a later work that uses the Vesalian plates suffers when the anatomist’s text is eliminated. Another guest post by New York physician Jeffrey Levine explores the visual imagery of Vesalius’ famous frontispiece of this same work. Other writers use illustration to signal authority and knowledge. A 2015 post on Walther Ryff explores the ways that Ryff’s use of the counterfeit style in his illustrations implied eye-witness discovery.

Andreas Vesalius (1514-1564). De humani corporis fabrica libri septum. Basel: Johannes Oporinus, 1543.

Our 2014 festival Art, Anatomy and the Body: Vesalius at 500 offered ample opportunity for critical thinking about the relationship between art and the body. Guest curator and visual artist Riva Lehrer describes her personal experience of the ways the body informs identity, and how that has shaped her own work as an artist in a 2014 post. A selection of images from several of our early anatomical atlases are featured in “Brains, Brawn and Beauty,” an exhibit that accompanied the festival, and are discussed here.

Finally, two posts on skeleton imagery highlight the tradition of danse macabre imagery in anatomical illustrations. Brandy Shillace’s guest post, “Naissance Macabre: Birth, Death, and Female Anatomy” examines depictions of the female body over time. For a look at the evolution of anatomical imagery with special attention to the tradition of portraying the human skeleton in vivo, visit our blog here. You’ll find a slide show hosted by Flavorwire featuring spectacular anatomical images from our collections.

Surgite mortui, et venite ad judicium (Arise, ye dead, and come to the judgment). Table 6. Click to enlarge.

Next month, the New York Academy of Medicine library will be undertaking an artistic project of our own. Capitalizing on the current coloring craze, we are starting a week-long special collections coloring celebration on social media, using the hashtag #ColorOurCollections. We’ll share images from our collections, as will friends at other institutions. We encourage you to color them, and share your colored copies on social media. Read more about how you or your institution can participate.

Coloring a camel from Conrad Gesner’s Historia Animalium, Liber I, 1551.

Reasons to Ride Like Lady Mary

Posted on January 7, 2016 by nyamhistorymed

By Anne Garner, Curator, Center for the History of Medicine and Public Health

In the first episode of the final season of Downton Abbey, Lady Mary Crawley tells her father that riding astride a horse is safer than riding side-saddle. Safer, natch. Could it also be healthier?

Lady Mary Crawley riding astride.

An article in a 1911 issue of The Journal of Scientific Training suggests it just might be. In “Riding, Cross-Seat and Side-Seat Compared,” B. Stedman says that riding astride requires significantly greater muscular engagement than riding side-saddle.¹ The 19^th-century New York physician Ghislani Durant suggests that this greater muscular engagement has a number of positive health outcomes.

Cover detail of Durant’s Horse Back Riding from a Medical Point of View, 1878.

In his book, Horse Back Riding from a Medical Point of View, Durant writes that chief among the benefits of riding is its capacity to strengthen muscles. By bringing the greatest number of muscles into use, riding also improves and facilitates blood circulation.² Another American source, Dr. Pancoast’s Ladies’ New Medical Guide, concurs. The guide links the increased muscle use of “sanitary and recreative riding” to strength and more efficient circulation.³

The cover of Pancoast’s The Ladies’ New Medical Guide, 1890.

Whether sidesaddle or astride, Durant believed that the overall benefits of horseback riding were numerous.

Durant writes that practice of riding aids digestion and “makes the bits go down”:

Each shock from the horse shakes them and makes them to roll as it were upon each other, and causes the changes in the relations of the convolutions of the intestines. These shocks and knocks and rubbings act as a mechanical excitant upon the muscular fibre…there results from it a more intimate mixture of the juices and aliments in the stomach, a more perfect chymification of the food, and a more prompt and complete absorption of matters already digested…⁴

Durant also asserts that different gaits—walking, trotting, galloping—produce different physiological results. In his section on “Secretions,” for example, Durant notes that trotting is more likely to produce sweat than any other gait.⁵

Horseback rider on the cover of Elements of Hygiene, circa 1921.

There’s also hope for hypochondriacs (here, described as usually male) and hysterics (usually female). The hypochondriac is urged to ride “an easy-gaited animal” first thing in the morning at a canter, with the caution that the patient stop before the point of fatigue. The result: the hypochondriac gains confidence in his strength, improves digestion and reduces flatulence, here identified as a frequent accompaniment to the disease.⁶ For the hysteric, writes Durant, the regime of outdoor exercise offers a valuable distraction from the “affections and passions, more intense and less restrained than in man.”⁷

If you suffer from another affliction not yet described, take heart! Durant argues for horseback riding as a treatment for many other maladies—including anemia, syphilis, and St. Vitus’ Dance.

Durant wasn’t the only New York physician in the late-19^th century to champion the curative properties of riding. The prominent New York physician Frank Hastings Hamilton read a paper here at the Academy in 1880, arguing for horseback riding as a remedy for chronic cystitis and for other chronic inflammations.

Though many of his case studies use men, he also argues the pastime has rewards for women. Hamilton suggested that the saddle might lift a chronically inflamed, congested, and “falling uterus” (though presumably not a side-saddle, another win for Lady Mary’s argument against this practice).⁸

References

1. Stedman, B. “Riding, Cross-Seat and Side-Seat Compared.” The Journal of Scientific Training. Volume 4 (1911): pp.21-22. Accessed online January 6, 2016 at http://bit.ly/1PfstbH.

2. Durant, Ghislani. Horseback Riding from a Medical Point of View. New York: Cassell, 1878.

3. Pancoast, Seth. The Ladies’ New Medical Guide. Philadelphia: n.p. [1890].

4. Durant, pp. 54-55.

5. Durant, p. 63.

6. Durant, p. 86-87.

7. Durant, p. 89. Interestingly, the final section of Durant’s work offers—groan—a horse of another color? Beginning with the mythological Dactyli of Greek legend, Durant offers a detailed literary account of horse and chariot-racing, spanning the classical era through Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe. Perhaps horse riding paid a key role in whipping the young Herakles into shape for all those labors.

8. Hamilton, Frank H. “The Horse and Saddle. A ‘New Remedy’ for Chronic Cystitis, and for other Chronic Inflammations.” Read before the New York Academy of Medicine, May 20, 1880.

#ColorOurCollections February 1-5

Posted on January 6, 2016 by nyamhistorymed

As you may know by now, there is a coloring craze going on. And we want libraries and their patrons to join in the fun!

Inspired in part by a recent twitter exchange with the Biodiversity Heritage Library, we are starting a week-long special collections coloring fest on social media, using the hashtag #ColorOurCollections. There is so much great coloring content in special collections, especially when looking at early illustrated books meant to be colored by hand.

Collections Care Assistant Emily Moyer and Archivist Rebecca Pou #ColorOurCollections.

If you work in a library or special collection, share images from your collections and invite followers to share their colored copies from February 1-5. You could use images already online in your digital collections, or you could even create easily printable coloring sheets or a coloring book, which we did a few years ago.

If you are a coloring fan, grab those colored pencils and felt-tip markers and #ColorOurCollections, then share your results using the hashtag.

Camel from Conrad Gesner’s Historia Animalium, Liber I, 1551.

Contemplating Starlight from the Comfort of Your Bed

Posted on December 29, 2015 by nyamhistorymed

By Johanna Goldberg, Information Services Librarian

For many centuries, people believed that disease came from dangerous, miasmic night air—the word “malaria” literally means “bad air.” But with the discoveries of true disease causes (malarial mosquitoes, tubercular and other bacteria), people began seeing exposure to fresh air as beneficial rather than detrimental. By the late 19^th century, doctors recommended that their patients sleep exposed to the outdoors.^1,2

The pamphlet The Starnook: A Call to the Open, published by the Starnook Company circa 1910, answers this call for fresh air by supplying a product. The Starnook could be attached to any exterior building wall to create a ventilated sleeping space, big enough for a single or double bed. Its metal shutter walls could open or shut depending on the weather, as could two sections of its wood slat floors. It offered a “balanced removable roof” that could be raised or lowered through a pulley system, allowing customers to experience “the contemplation of starlit space.”³

Left: The inside of the Starnook with shutters and roof closed. Right: The Starnook seen from outside, with roof open. Images on pages 6 and 7 of The Starnook: A Call to the Open. Click to enlarge.

The company wrote:

“He who sleeps out of doors is supplied with an abundance of oxygen-laden air, Nature’s own restorative for tired nerves. This abundance of pure air, which mankind so vitally needs for perfect health, can be secured by the majority of people in no other way with so little exertion as by sleeping in the open.”

The Starnook had applications for both the healthy and the sick. In the early 20^th century, exposure to fresh air was seen as key to treating tuberculosis, then a leading cause of death in America.² The Starnook served as an alternative to traveling to a sanatorium for treatment.

In publications like John Hopkins Hospital Bulletin,⁴ The New York Medical Journal,⁵ and the book Tuberculosis as a Disease of the Masses and How to Combat It,⁶ Dr. S. Adolphus Knopf, a noted and pioneering tuberculosis researcher,⁷ sang the Starnook’s praises:

“In presenting this new device to the profession and the public, the inventors trust to have been in a measure helpful not only in solving the problem of outdoor sleeping and outdoor resting for the tuberculous in cities, but also to have given opportunity to other sufferers to recuperate, and to the well and strong to enjoy constant fresh air, at least at night, and enable them to be more frequently in touch with nature than is granted to most city dwellers.”⁴

Dr. Knopf turned himself into the Starnook’s leading spokesperson. He had one installed at his home, presumably in New York City:

“I have slept in my starnook since October, 1910, and never have I had more peaceful nights, more sound and more refreshing sleep. To lie outstretched in the warm bed, breathing constantly the pure, fresh air, to be able to gaze at the beautiful sky, and watch the starry constellations without any effort, is a sensation which must be felt, for it cannot be described. I am inclined to believe that the most restless and nervous person will soon fall asleep in a quiet starnook.”⁴

Dr. Knopf’s open Starnook. In: Johns Hopkins Hospital Bulletin 1911;22(246), page 302. Click to enlarge.

Enjoy the pamphlet in full, below. Perhaps you will become as strong an admirer of the Starnook as Dr. Knopf.

Click an image to view the gallery:

: Cover of The Starnook.

: Title page, The Starnook.

: The Starnook, page 1.

: The Starnook, pages 2-3.

: The Starnook, pages 4-5.

: The Starnook, pages 6-7.

: The Starnook, pages 8-9.

: The Starnook, pages 10-11.

: The Starnook, pages 12-13.

: The Starnook, back cover.

References

1. Hailey C. From Sleeping Porch to Sleeping Machine: Inverting Traditions of Fresh Air in North America. Tradit Settlements Dwellings Rev. 2009;20(9):27–44. Available at: http://iaste.berkeley.edu/pdfs/20.2d-Spr09hailey-sml.pdf. Accessed December 22, 2015.

2. National Library of Medicine. Visual Culture and Public Health Posters – Infectious Disease – Tuberculosis. 2011. Available at: https://www.nlm.nih.gov/exhibition/visualculture/tuberculosis.html. Accessed December 22, 2015.

3. A call to the open sleep under the stars: a delightful health-giving experience to be gained by the use of the Starnook, an attractive open-air bedroom attachable outside any window for use every night in the year. Syracuse: The Starnook Company; 1910. Note that this is the title page title. For the sake of brevity, the cover title is used throughout the text.

4. Knopf SA. The Starnook – a new device for the rest cure in the open air and for outdoor sleeping. Johns Hopkins Hosp Bull. 1911;22(246):301–303. Available at: https://books.google.com/books?id=XcwyAQAAMAAJ&pgis=1. Accessed December 17, 2015.

5. Knopf SA. The Starnook and the window tent; two devices for the rest cure in the open air and for outdoor sleeping. New York Med J. 1911;93(16):761–765. Available at: https://books.google.com/books?id=Z3Y4AQAAMAAJ&pgis=1. Accessed December 22, 2015.

6. Knopf SA. Tuberculosis as a disease of the masses and how to combat it. 7th ed. New York: The Survey; 1911. Available at: https://books.google.com/books?id=5VE5AQAAMAAJ&pgis=1. Accessed December 22, 2015.

7. Reyes A. Finding Aid to the Sigard Adolphus Knopf Papers, 1879-1940. 2004. Available at: http://oculus.nlm.nih.gov/cgi/f/findaid/findaid-idx?c=nlmfindaid;idno=knopf;view=reslist;didno=knopf;subview=standard;focusrgn=bioghist;cc=nlmfindaid;byte=19744711. Accessed December 22, 2015.

Counterfeiting Bodies: Examining the Work of Walther Ryff

Posted on December 23, 2015 by nyamhistorymed

By Anne Garner, Curator, Center for the History of Medicine and Public Health

The surgeon Walther Hermann Ryff worked in Strasbourg in the early 16^th century. A prolific author, he wrote as many as 65 works on diverse subjects, including architecture, poisons, cookbooks, herbal remedies, obstetrics and mathematics.¹ The author’s best known work, Des aller furtrefflichsten, hoechsten und adelichsten Gschoepffs aller Creaturen, was published in Strasbourg in 1541, just two years before the publication of Vesalius’ ground-breaking Fabrica.

Plate 1 of Ryff’s Des aller furtrefflichsten, hoechsten und adelichsten Gschoepffs aller Creaturen (1541). Click to enlarge.

The text compiles Ryff’s lectures in anatomy and physiology and 42 beautifully hand-colored woodcuts, compiled from a number of Renaissance sources. These images, mostly of bodies or partially dissected bodies, offer what scholar Alexander Marr describes as an immediate “rhetoric of authenticity.”² Depicted in the counterfeit style, a type of representation common in the 16^th century in Northern Europe, the illustrations in this book would have implied first-hand knowledge and discovery. The captions for plates produced in this style used the word “counterfeit” (above, contrafactur) to assert their accuracy as true representations. In this way, Ryff’s book positioned itself as a credible description of anatomy (though its illustrations were far from anatomically precise).

Little is known about Ryff’s training. He seems to have studied pharmacy in Basel, and absorbed much of his considerable medical knowledge by travelling through Europe. He was a successful author, frequently sought after by publishers. Among his peer group of writers, however, he would not have won any popularity contests. To the Swiss scientist Albrecht von Haller, he was a “compiler and polygraph of dubious morals,” and to Vesalius, simply, “the Strasbourg plagiarist.” Leonard Fuchs, the great botanist, whose work was reprinted in Ryff’s name twice, called him an “extremely outrageous, reckless, fraudulent writer.”³ The grounds for their complaints are easily recognizable by examining this volume, which lifts images from Vesalius’s Tabulae Sex (1538), from Eucharius Rösslin’s Der Rosengarten (1513), and from the anatomies of Johannes Dryander (1536), Jacapo Berengario da Carpi (1522), and Lorenz Fries (1518).

Plate 2 Ryff’s Des aller furtrefflichsten, hoechsten und adelichsten Gschoepffs aller Creaturen (1541). Images originally from Rösslin’s Der Rosengarten (1513). Click to enlarge.

Plate 3 Ryff’s Des aller furtrefflichsten, hoechsten und adelichsten Gschoepffs aller Creaturen (1541). Image originally from Dryander (1536). Click to enlarge.

Ryff’s defenders have argued that what today would be regarded as blatant plagiarism was more in keeping with Enlightenment practices of recycling intellectual property. Even so, his appropriations seem to have gone too far in the minds of his peers. In some cases, he modified the images, improving them. The Fries figures were repositioned, and seated on a bench. The Vesalian plates showing the arteries and veins, now beautifully hand-colored, were superimposed on seated outlines of figures, which clarified the position of the vessels in the body.

Plate 4 of Ryff’s Des aller furtrefflichsten, hoechsten und adelichsten Gschoepffs aller Creaturen (1541). Click to enlarge.

Vesalius’ skeletons fared less well in Ryff’s possession. These were copied directly onto the wood-cut, so that the lettering and the skeletons themselves appear in reverse. The skeletons are depicted with an inadequate number of vertebrate and ribs, and are shown in inferior proportions.

Modified Vesalian skeleton in Ryff’s Des aller furtrefflichsten, hoechsten und adelichsten Gschoepffs aller Creaturen (1541). Click to enlarge.

Ryff directed his 1541 book at the ‘gemeine,’ or common man; it’s composition in vernacular German instead of Latin ensured it would have a wider readership. In this way, it would have been indispensable to new readers as a compilation of Renaissance knowledge about the body.

The book also offers some tantalizing evidence about early printing history. The wood-blocks for this edition were reused for a set of broadsides, issued in both German and Latin editions the same year. They then went to a Parisian printer for new editions of Ryff’s work and for a popular work on surgery.⁴ The reappearance of the Ryff woodcuts illustrates the practice of passing woodblocks from publisher to publisher, and shows how work published in one city continued to be published and disseminated in others.

References

1. Di Matteo, Berardo. “Art and Science in the Renaissance: The Case of Walther Hermann Ryff.” Clinical Orthopeadics and Related Research 472: 1689-1696. 2014 and Russell, K.F. Walter Hermann Ryff and His Anatomy.” The Australian and New Zealand Journal of Surgery. v.22 no. 1. 1952. pp. 66-69.

2. Marr, Alexander. “Walther Ryff, Plagiarism and Imitation in Sixteenth-Century Germany.” Print Quarterly, 31, 2014. pp 131-143.

3. Roberts, K.B. and J.D.W. Tomlinson. The Fabric of the Body. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992; Marr, Alexander. “Walther Ryff, Plagiarism and Imitation in Sixteenth-Century Germany.” Print Quarterly, 31, 2014. pp 131-143; Di Matteo, Berardo. “Art and Science in the Renaissance: The Case of Walther Hermann Ryff.” Clinical Orthopeadics and Related Research 472: 1691.

4. K.B. Roberts and J.D.W. Tomlinson. The Fabric of the Body. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992.

Living in the Land of Health

Posted on December 17, 2015 by nyamhistorymed

By Danielle Aloia, Special Projects Librarian

As children we learn the basics of hygiene, but as adults sometimes we forget how to keep our bodies strong and healthy. The 1922 children’s book The Land of Health teaches how to stay healthy and prevent the spread of disease through a series of stories, culminating in the tale of how children Tom and Sally become full citizens of the Land of Health. It’s one of a number of books for children in our collection.

A map of thr Land of Health. From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. NY: Charles E. Merrill. 1922.

A map of the Land of Health. From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. New York: Charles E. Merrill, 1922. Click to enlarge.

This book is written as a fairy tale: Dame Nature takes the children on a journey with her five helpers, Mr. Wind, Madam Rain, my Lord Sun, Sir Food, and Lady Sleep. The Christmas Carol/Alice in Wonderland mash-up shrinks the children to a size that fits into Tom’s toy village, where Dame Nature’s helpers take the children on very detailed adventures in the Land of Health. In these chapters, children, and even adults, learn (among a lot of other things) the importance of keeping clothes clean, how waste matter comes out through the skin, and what carrots are made of.

From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. New York: Charles E. Merrill, 1922.

All living things need sunlight to live, vegetables store sunlight. It is this energy “that gives you the power to live and grow and move about.” From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. New York: Charles E. Merrill, 1922.

All living things need sunlight to live and vegetables store sunlight. It is this energy “that gives you the power to live and grow and move about.” From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. New York: Charles E. Merrill, 1922.

This journey reinforces that by keeping your “body castle” and your surroundings clean you can help make the world a safer place. If a germ happens to finagle its way in, the Board of Health spends its “time guarding the health of the citizens.” At the end of the journey Tom and Sally are outside the village in “Dirtyville,” where the flies live that carry the germs to the Land of Health. They learn that the best way to control their population is to cover garbage cans and clear dirt and rubbish away so they cannot breed.

In each chapter, verses help us remember the lessons and a series of questions reinforce positive health behavior. In the end, the children must repeat these verses for Dame Nature to grant them citizenship into the Land of Health.

Some verses that stick in your head:

“I must always breathe fresh air
In rainy weather and in fair”

“Every day I must take pride
In cleaning out myself inside.”

“Coffee, alcohol, and tea,
I know are very bad for me.”

“The proper foods for me to eat
Are simple ones and clean.
A pint of milk each day I need
And vegetables green
The time to eat is during meals
And never in between.”

And questions that make you ponder:

“Make a list of the things you have eaten in the last day or two. Are you building your house of straw and sticks or of bricks?”

“Why should you wear loose clothes?”

“What does the skin do for the body?”

“Why should waste matter be cleared out of the body each morning?”

“How do your hair and fingernails show whether you take pride in your body castle?”

From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. New York: Charles E. Merrill, 1922.

A child can become a full citizen of the Land of Health by following these basic tenets:

Breathing fresh air
Getting exercise
Standing and sitting up straight
Drinking four glasses of water a day
Bathing at least twice a week and brushing teeth three times a day
Eating proper foods (and never between meals)
Getting plenty of sun (“If you want the germs to run, / Let them see my Lord the Sun!”)
Wearing proper clothes
Sleeping 11 hours each night
And always being careful

From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. NY: Charles E. Merrill. 1922.

Certainly, these are good rules to live by in the world today. If each of us follows these simple rules we can create a “Happy Village” in which everyone has a chance to thrive and be free from germs and disease. To do that, we need to avoid “Enemies’ Country” (which, sadly for us adults, is where all the coffee and tea lives. Maybe just adults can drink them and still live in the Land of Health?) .

From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. New York: Charles E. Merrill, 1922.

One of the book’s poetic reminders of how to stay healthy is an excellent verse for the coming cold and flu season:

“Sickness germs I must defeat,
And so I wash before I eat;
I never touch my nose or lips
With pencils coins or finger-tips
I keep away from those who sneeze,
For they may have a germ disease;
And when I cough or sneeze or sniff,
I do it in a handkerchief.”

Interested in reading the whole book? It’s available online. Then take the pledge, like Tom, and become a citizen of the Land of Health yourself!

From Hallock and Winslow, The Land of Health. New York: Charles E. Merrill, 1922.

What’s Your Job? Interview with Book Conservator Christina Amato

Posted on December 15, 2015 by nyamhistorymed

By Christina Amato, Book and Paper Conservator, with Emily Moyer, Collections Care Assistant

The New York Academy of Medicine Library is well known for its world-class collections and serves patrons from all over the world. We strive to make our collections as visible and accessible as possible, and a lot of work goes on behind the scenes towards this end. The Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation Laboratory fulfills one component of this equation, attending to the physical well-being of collections materials.

Christina Amato, cleaning old glue from the spine of a book.

The Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation Laboratory was created in 1982, and occupies a bright, well-equipped space overlooking Central Park. Currently, one full-time conservator and two part-time collections care assistants work to preserve the collection of over 550,000 volumes. Christina Amato has worked as a book conservator here for approximately three years. Recently, she sat down with Collections Care Assistant Emily Moyer to discuss her work.

EM: How did you get into the field of conservation?

CA: People come to the field from a variety of backgrounds, in part because conservation crosses many disciplines, including science, art history, and studio art. I come from an art background, having received my BA in studio art from Bard College. It was really through an interest in materials (specifically paper, leather, and vellum) that I became involved in bookbinding. I received a diploma in bookbinding from the North Bennet Street School in Boston, which led me to many wonderful internships in book conservation.

There are actually many different possible paths to a career in conservation. The American Institute for Conservation of Historic and Artistic Works (AIC) has compiled a guide to education and training in conservation.

E.M.: Why is conservation important?

Many books that come up to the conservation lab are too fragile to be handled by readers; our work makes these materials accessible. This is important not just for readers that come and use our collection in person, but also for preparation for digitization projects and exhibitions. Much of our work focuses on preventative care, which ensures that materials remain in good condition for current and future use. This can include rehousing (creating enclosures for materials), regulating and monitoring environmental conditions, and disaster planning and response.

E.M.: What are you working on now?

Currently I am working on a copy of The byrth of mankynde, otherwise named The womans booke, by Eucharius Rösslin, London, 1545. The book arrived in the lab broken in half:

The byrth of mankynde, otherwise named The womans booke, before treatment.

It had been subjected to several unsuccessful attempts to repair the damage over the years. Several layers of Japanese paper had been glued over the spine, and only a few small fragments of the original spine piece were left.

The byrth of mankynde, otherwise named The womans booke, before treatment.

After disbanding, and mending paper tears and fragile edges throughout the text block, I carefully documented the original sewing pattern, so that I could resew it in the same way.

Next, I dyed leather to match the original binding, which I will use to recreate the spine. After it is complete, the book will receive a new, custom enclosure, and will be ready to be used again.

Leather dying in progress.

E.M.: What are some interesting things you’ve worked on at the Academy?

A favorite book that I worked on was a copy of The Physiology of Digestion by William Beaumont, published in Vermont in 1847. Very shortly after I finished working on it, I listened to an archived episode of the Radiolab program called Guts. Our historical collections librarian, Arlene Shaner, spoke of a small, purple, cloth-bound book about digestion; it only very slowly dawned on me that it was the very same book that was on my bench.

Before and after, The Physiology of Digestion, Beaumont, William. Vermont, 1847.

Before and after, William Beaumont’s The Physiology of Digestion, Vermont, 1847. Click to enlarge.

Another favorite was a small volume entitled Geburtshulfliche Taschen-Phantome by Koichi Shibata, published in Munchen in 1892. We were so charmed by this little obstetrics text that we recreated the movable paper baby for a public workshop.

Koichi Shibata, Geburtshulfliche Taschen-Phantome, after treatment (left). The moveable paper baby (right).

E.M.: Why do you like working in conservation?

Working in conservation can be very satisfying; the outcome of our work is unusually tangible. Working to preserve materials for (and from!) future readers can be creatively challenging, and requires flexible thinking. I like that it is a profession that combines working with your hands with an intellectual component. And of course, it is very rewarding to take a book that is too fragile to be handled and render it usable again.

“She was in love with another man…” History, Heartbreak, and Hysteria in the Academy Archive (Part 2)

Posted on December 10, 2015 by nyamhistorymed

Earlier this week, fall archives intern Doris Straus shared highlights from the collections she processed while at the Academy. Today, she presents the rest of her discoveries.

I processed the papers of Dr. Lewis Gregory Cole papers next. Dr. Cole (b. 1874), a radiologist, had an active social life during his time at Columbia College of Physicians & Surgeons. His papers (1892–1954) include a large collection of lively personal correspondence from male and female acquaintances, dance cards, wedding invitations, calling cards (mainly from female friends), and other social ephemera of the late 1890s. The correspondence from his university years and the early years of his career are a fascinating look at social interactions between young men and women at the turn of the 20^th century.

Dance cards from the Cole papers.

There is an invitation for a bicycle ride and mention of a gift of a box of chocolates to a young lady friend, and years of correspondence from “your true chum, Joe,” who was studying at Cornell and who complains about all the weddings they have to go to. Though there is more personal correspondence here than scientific, numerous papers and correspondence relates to Dr. Cole’s work with roentgenology (radiology). A 1931 letter to Dr. Cole from a fellow radiologist at the Cleveland Clinic requests “a signed photograph of yourself for my collection of eminent radiologists.” Dr. Cole wrote two textbooks, contributed to other texts, and authored more than one hundred articles in medical journals. He also developed a table, known as the “Cole table,” for the diagnosis of duodenal ulcers.

Scientific materials from the Cole papers.

The Dr. Joseph R. Kuh papers, 1935–1994, also contain a great deal of personal correspondence, along with diaries and notes documenting Dr. Kuh’s service during World War II and the Korean War.

Dr. Kuh (1919–2012) was a certified internist and practiced privately from his Manhattan brownstone for many years. Of note in the personal correspondence is the reporting of historic events. A June 6, 1944 letter from Dr. Kuh’s father to both his sons reports the events of D-Day as experienced in the Kuh family apartment on West End Avenue. The letter tells of constant prayers being offered on the radio in addition to the news, and of the major department stores “Stern’s, Lord and Taylor, Franklin Simon” closing early. “Their windows bore a notice ‘Due to D Day, we felt that our customers as well as our employees would want to spend the day in prayer, and so we have closed for the remainder of the day.’” Other newsworthy events include Dr. Kuh’s first wife, Jean, a Barnard student, writing about the plane that crashed into the Empire State Building in July of 1945.

Diaries from the Kuh papers.

I also processed the Dr. Alfred Braun papers, 1898–1983. Dr. Braun was a native of Hungary, a Columbia University College of Physicians & Surgeons alumnus who specialized in otolaryngology, and a gifted painter. He was one of the founders and past officers of the NY Physicians Art Club. The collection includes scientific materials, a number of art awards, and correspondence with American businessman Armand Hammer, who appears to have been a friend.

Other personal collections include the Dr. Gustav Aufricht papers, 1922-1963. Dr. Aufricht (1894–1980) was a native of Budapest, Hungary and is considered one of the founding fathers of American Plastic Surgery. He treated wounded soldiers during World War I and studied with the leading practitioners in Europe before arriving in New York in 1923. I also processed the Dorothy Fahs-Beck papers, 1929–1954. Fahs-Beck (1906–2000) was a research statistician who received her doctorate from Columbia University in 1944. Her greatest impact was as an innovator in the areas of human services research and dental practice research. She established the Fahs-Beck Fund for Research and Experimentation in 1993.

The papers and records I had the good fortune to process are wide-ranging collections documenting the struggle to conquer diseases such as tuberculosis, polio, and rickets; record psychiatry and neurology as practiced in the early 20^th century; chronicle the development and use of X-rays, vaccines, and antibiotics; record advances in diagnostic and surgical procedures; report evolving diet and nutritional issues for children throughout the mid-20^th century; and document the beginnings of AIDS research in the early 1980s—all by organizations and individuals at the forefront of these issues. There is also enlightening correspondence and social ephemera from times long past, which help to complete the picture of a person or an era—even if it is just admiring the gift of a box of chocolates 120 years after the fact.

Books, Health and History

The New York Academy of Medicine

Author Archives: nyamhistorymed

Dr. David Hosack, Physician to Hamilton and Burr

The Nightmare of Imminent Baldness

At the Crossroads of Art and Medicine

Reasons to Ride Like Lady Mary

Contemplating Starlight from the Comfort of Your Bed

Counterfeiting Bodies: Examining the Work of Walther Ryff

Living in the Land of Health

What’s Your Job? Interview with Book Conservator Christina Amato

“She was in love with another man…” History, Heartbreak, and Hysteria in the Academy Archive (Part 2)