Once in a Lifetime, part 4
Engrafting against Smallpox
Draft: this translation has not yet been checked against the original by a separate review.
- Written
- April 1, 1717 (Old Style); published 1763
- Place
- Adrianople
- Language
- English
- Kind of source
- letter
- Reading time
- 5 minutes
- Difficulty
- Moderate
- Intensity
- Low
SmallpoxInoculation and vaccinationPlague (Yersinia pestis)
Once in a Lifetime themes: Unknowns
An old woman arrives with a nutshell full of smallpox matter and a large needle. She opens four or five veins on each child, puts in a drop of the matter, and binds up the cuts with a bit of shell. Eight days later the children have a mild fever, and they recover.
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689–1762) wrote this letter from Adrianople (modern Edirne, Turkey), then a seat of the Ottoman court, in April 1717, after a long overland journey with her husband, the new British ambassador. She was writing to Sarah Chiswell, a friend in England. She had herself survived smallpox, which left her face scarred.
She describes engrafting as she saw it and as people around her explained it. Her claim that no one died of it is what she was told. On the plague she was kept in the dark by her own household, as she says.
Her travel letters were printed in 1763, the year after her death, from copies she had gathered and reworked herself, so the printed text may differ from the letter she sent. She also wrote with an eye on readers in England, and on the doctors she expected to oppose her.
Watch how she weighs the plague against smallpox, and what she says about the doctors back home.
The edited translation, in simplified modern English. Bracketed words were added for clarity; [...] marks a cut. Tap a note number to read the note.
In my opinion, dear S.,1 I ought rather to quarrel with you, for not answering my Nimeguen2 letter of August till December, than to excuse my not writing again till now. I am sure there is on my side a very good excuse for silence, having gone such tiresome land journeys, though I don’t find the conclusion of them so bad as you seem to imagine. I am very easy here, and not in the solitude you fancy me. The great number of Greeks, French, English, and Italians that are under our protection make their court to me from morning till night, and, I’ll assure you, are, many of them, very fine ladies; for there is no possibility for a Christian to live easy under this government but by the protection of an ambassador,3 and the richer they are, the greater is their danger.
Those dreadful stories you have heard of the plague have very little foundation in truth. I own I have much ado to reconcile myself to the sound of a word which has always given me such terrible ideas, though I am convinced there is little more in it than in a fever. As a proof of this, let me tell you that we passed through two or three towns most violently infected. In the very next house where we lay (in one of those places) two persons died of it. Luckily for me, I was so well deceived that I knew nothing of the matter, and I was made believe that our second cook had only a great cold. However, we left our doctor to take care of him, and yesterday they both arrived here in good health; and I am now let into the secret that he has had the plague. There are many that escape it; neither is the air ever infected.4 I am persuaded that it would be as easy a matter to root it out here as out of Italy and France; but it does so little mischief, they are not very solicitous about it, and are content to suffer this distemper instead of our [tax?], which they are utterly unacquainted with.
Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make you wish yourself here. The smallpox, so fatal and so general amongst us, is here entirely harmless, by the invention of engrafting,5 which is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another to know if any of their family has a mind to have the smallpox; they make parties for this purpose, and when they are met (commonly fifteen or sixteen together) the old woman comes with a nutshell full of the matter of the best sort of smallpox,6 and asks what veins you please to have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer to her with a large needle (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch), and puts into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle, and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell; and in this manner opens four or five veins. The Grecians7 have commonly the superstition of opening one in the middle of the forehead, one in each arm, and one on the breast, to mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these wounds leaving little scars, and is not done by those that are not superstitious, who choose to have them in the legs, or that part of the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them, and they keep their beds two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or thirty in their faces,8 which never mark, and in eight days’ time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded, there remain running sores during the distemper, which I don’t doubt is a great relief to it.9
Every year thousands undergo this operation, and the French ambassador says pleasantly that they take the smallpox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters10 in other countries. There is no example of anyone that has died in it, and you may believe I am very well satisfied of the safety of this experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear little son.11 I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful invention into fashion in England, and I should not fail to write to some of our doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of their revenue for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too beneficial to them not to expose to all their resentment the hardy wight12 that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps, if I live to return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. Upon this occasion, admire the heroism in the heart of your friend, etc.
Notes
- Sarah Chiswell, a friend of Lady Mary’s since their youth. The printed letters hide names behind initials. back
- Nimeguen (modern Nijmegen, in the Netherlands), where she had stopped on her journey east in 1716. back
- Her husband, Edward Wortley Montagu, was the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire. back
- Many believed that disease spread through corrupted air, foul or poisoned air often rising from rot or swamps. She reports that here no one thought the air itself carried the plague. back
- Giving a person smallpox on purpose, by putting matter from a smallpox sore into a small cut, so as to cause a milder case and lasting protection. In English it was later called inoculation. back
- Pus from the sores of someone with smallpox. “The best sort” probably means a mild case. back
- Greek Orthodox Christians living under Ottoman rule. back
- That is, twenty or thirty pocks, the sores of smallpox. “Which never mark”: they leave no scars. back
- Like the doctors of her day, she assumes the disease is bad matter in the body that needs an outlet; the open sores let it drain. back
- Drink or bathe in mineral springs at a spa, for health. back
- Edward, her son, born in 1713. back
- Bold fellow. back
IN my opinion, dear S. I ought rather to quarrel with you, for not answering my Nimeguen letter of August, till December, than to excuse my not writing again till now. I am sure there is on my side a very good excuse for silence, having gone such tiresome land journeys, though I don't find the conclusion of them so bad as you seem to imagine. I am very easy here, and not in the solitude you fancy me. The great number of Greeks, French, English and Italians, that are under our protection, make their court to me from morning till night, and I'll assure you, are, many of them, very fine ladies; for there is no possibility for a Christian to live easy under this government, but by the protection of an Ambassador; and the richer they are, the greater is their danger.
In my opinion, dear S., I ought rather to quarrel with you, for not answering my Nimeguen letter of August till December, than to excuse my not writing again till now. I am sure there is on my side a very good excuse for silence, having gone such tiresome land journeys, though I don’t find the conclusion of them so bad as you seem to imagine. I am very easy here, and not in the solitude you fancy me. The great number of Greeks, French, English, and Italians that are under our protection make their court to me from morning till night, and, I’ll assure you, are, many of them, very fine ladies; for there is no possibility for a Christian to live easy under this government but by the protection of an ambassador, and the richer they are, the greater is their danger.
- Sarah Chiswell, a friend of Lady Mary’s since their youth. The printed letters hide names behind initials.
- Nimeguen (modern Nijmegen, in the Netherlands), where she had stopped on her journey east in 1716.
- Her husband, Edward Wortley Montagu, was the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire.
Those dreadful stories you have heard of the Plague, have very little foundation in truth. I own, I have much ado to reconcile myself to the sound of a word, which has always given me such terrible ideas; though I am convinced there is little more in it, than in a fever. As a proof of this, let me tell you, ⟨that⟩ we ⟨passed⟩ through two or three towns most violently infected. In the very next house where we lay (in one of those places) two persons died of it. Luckily for me, I was so well ⟨deceived⟩, that I knew nothing of the matter; and I was ⟨made⟩ believe, that our second cook, had only a great cold. However we left our doctor to take care of him, and yesterday they both arrived here in good health; and I am now let into the secret, that he ⟨has⟩ had the Plague. There are many that escape it, neither is the air ever infected. I am persuaded that it would be as ⟨easy a⟩ matter to root it out here, as out of Italy and France; but it does so little mischief, they are not very solicitous about it, and are content to suffer this distemper, instead of our ⟨tax?⟩, which they are utterly unacquainted with.
Those dreadful stories you have heard of the plague have very little foundation in truth. I own I have much ado to reconcile myself to the sound of a word which has always given me such terrible ideas, though I am convinced there is little more in it than in a fever. As a proof of this, let me tell you that we passed through two or three towns most violently infected. In the very next house where we lay (in one of those places) two persons died of it. Luckily for me, I was so well deceived that I knew nothing of the matter, and I was made believe that our second cook had only a great cold. However, we left our doctor to take care of him, and yesterday they both arrived here in good health; and I am now let into the secret that he has had the plague. There are many that escape it; neither is the air ever infected. I am persuaded that it would be as easy a matter to root it out here as out of Italy and France; but it does so little mischief, they are not very solicitous about it, and are content to suffer this distemper instead of our [tax?], which they are utterly unacquainted with.
- Many believed that disease spread through corrupted air, foul or poisoned air often rising from rot or swamps. She reports that here no one thought the air itself carried the plague.
⟨Apropos⟩ of ⟨distempers⟩, I am going to tell you a thing, that will make you wish yourself here. The small-pox, so fatal, and so general amongst us, is here entirely harmless, by the invention of engrafting, which is the term they give it. There is a set of old women, who make it their business to perform the operation, every autumn, in the month of September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another to know if any of their ⟨family⟩ has a mind to have the small-pox; ⟨they⟩ make parties for this purpose, and when they are met (commonly fifteen or sixteen together) the old woman comes with a nut-shell full of the matter of the best sort of small-pox, and asks what veins you please to have open'd. She immediately rips open that you offer to her, with a large needle (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch) and puts into the vein, as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle, and after that, binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell, and in this manner opens four or five veins. The Grecians have commonly the superstition ⟨of⟩ opening one in the middle of the forehead, one in each arm, and one on the breast, to mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these wounds leaving little scars; and is not done by those that are not superstitious, who chuse to have them in the legs, or that part of the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them and they keep their beds two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or thirty in their faces, which never mark, and in eight days time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded, there remain running sores during the distemper, which I don't doubt is a great relief to it.
Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make you wish yourself here. The smallpox, so fatal and so general amongst us, is here entirely harmless, by the invention of engrafting, which is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another to know if any of their family has a mind to have the smallpox; they make parties for this purpose, and when they are met (commonly fifteen or sixteen together) the old woman comes with a nutshell full of the matter of the best sort of smallpox, and asks what veins you please to have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer to her with a large needle (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch), and puts into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle, and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell; and in this manner opens four or five veins. The Grecians have commonly the superstition of opening one in the middle of the forehead, one in each arm, and one on the breast, to mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these wounds leaving little scars, and is not done by those that are not superstitious, who choose to have them in the legs, or that part of the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them, and they keep their beds two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or thirty in their faces, which never mark, and in eight days’ time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded, there remain running sores during the distemper, which I don’t doubt is a great relief to it.
- Giving a person smallpox on purpose, by putting matter from a smallpox sore into a small cut, so as to cause a milder case and lasting protection. In English it was later called inoculation.
- Pus from the sores of someone with smallpox. “The best sort” probably means a mild case.
- Greek Orthodox Christians living under Ottoman rule.
- That is, twenty or thirty pocks, the sores of smallpox. “Which never mark”: they leave no scars.
- Like the doctors of her day, she assumes the disease is bad matter in the body that needs an outlet; the open sores let it drain.
Every year thousands undergo this operation, and the French Ambassador says ⟨pleasantly⟩, that they take the small-pox here by ⟨way of⟩ diversion, as they take the waters in other countries. There is no example ⟨of any one⟩ that has died in it, and you may ⟨believe I am very⟩ well satisfied of the safety of this ⟨experiment⟩, since I intend to try it on my dear little son. I am patriot enough to take pains to bring ⟨this⟩ useful invention into fashion in England, and ⟨I⟩ should not fail to write to some of our Doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of their revenue, for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too beneficial to them, not to expose to all their resentment, the hardy wight that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps if I live to return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. Upon this occasion, ⟨admire⟩ the heroism in the heart of ⟨your⟩ friend, ⟨&c.⟩
Every year thousands undergo this operation, and the French ambassador says pleasantly that they take the smallpox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters in other countries. There is no example of anyone that has died in it, and you may believe I am very well satisfied of the safety of this experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear little son. I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful invention into fashion in England, and I should not fail to write to some of our doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of their revenue for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too beneficial to them not to expose to all their resentment the hardy wight that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps, if I live to return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. Upon this occasion, admire the heroism in the heart of your friend, etc.
- Drink or bathe in mineral springs at a spa, for health.
- Edward, her son, born in 1713.
- Bold fellow.
Page images of the original object or of the printed edition, from the libraries and archives that hold them. The pages shown are copied here where the holder marks them public domain; titles link to the holder's own viewer. Click a page to see it full size.
Letters of the Right Honourable Lady M——y W——y M——e, London 1763
Internet Archive. Letter XXXI (about pp. 137–141). Public domain (published 1763).
The printed edition our text follows.
Lady Mary wrote in English. Our text follows the London edition of 1763, with spelling and punctuation modernized (small-pox to smallpox, open’d to opened, chuse to choose) and the long s printed as s. Her words and their order are kept. Words lost in the scanned text of the edition have been supplied and are marked in the unit notes.
The whole letter is included.
- Original
- Text as printed in the named edition or on the object, read from page images. Edition: Letters of the Right Honourable Lady M——y W——y M——e: Written, during Her Travels in Europe, Asia and Africa, to Persons of Distinction (London, 1763), Letter XXXI, about pp. 137–141 of the copy digitized as Internet Archive item bim_eighteenth-century_letters-of-the-right-hon_montagu-mary-wortley-l_1763. The volume is not yet confirmed: the OCR keeps no running heads. Digital text: that item’s OCR text, extracted by code. The edition prints long s; we give it as s. Not yet read against the page images.
- Editor’s review
- Not yet.
- Specialist review
- Not yet. Readings a specialist should confirm are listed for later review.
- Rights
- Original: public domain. Edition: public domain.
Sources for the notes
- Montagu, Mary Wortley. Letters of the Right Honourable Lady M——y W——y M——e. London, 1763. Letter XXXI, read in the Internet Archive OCR text.