The Speckled Monster

Table of Contents

 

 

 

 

“An arresting and surprisingly entertaining portrayal of one of the world's great medical triumphs.”—
The Arizona Republic

 

“An intriguing story of a timely topic.”—
BookPage

 

“A timely, gripping, and often exciting account of the efforts of two people, both survivors of smallpox, to combat the disease . . . This is an outstanding medical thriller that both informs and inspires.”—
Booklist

 

“Carrell makes these historical figures come alive ... A fascinating read.”

—
Library Journal

 

“For those who take their medicine with an air of mayhem.”

—
Kirkus Reviews

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jennifer Lee Carrell
holds a Ph.D. in English and American literature from Harvard University. A writer for
Smithsonian
magazine, she has taught in the history and literature program at Harvard. She lives in Tucson, Arizona. This is her first book.

PLUME
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Books Australia Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2
Penguin Books India (P) Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park,
New Delhi - 110 017, India
Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, Cnr Rosedale and Airborne Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310,
New Zealand
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,
South Africa

 

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

Published by Plume, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Previously published in a Dutton edition.

 

First Plume Printing, February 2004

Copyright © Jennifer Lee Carrell, 2003

All rights reserved

REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Carrell, Jennifer Lee.
The speckled monster : a historical tale of battling smallpox / by Jennifer Lee Carrell.
p. ; cm.
Includes bibliographical references.

eISBN : 978-0-452-28507-1

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

PUBLISHER'S NOTE

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

BOOKS ARE AVAILABLE AT QUANTITY DISCOUNTS WHEN USED TO PROMOTE PRODUCTS OR SERVICES. FOR INFORMATION PLEASE WRITE TO PREMIUM MARKETING DIVISION, PENGUIN GROUP (USA) INC., 375 HUDSON STREET, NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10014.

For Johnny

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

IN the long, serendipitous chain of events that brought this book into being, three people took big risks on an unknown writer: Brian Tart, editorial director at Dutton; Noah Lukeman, literary agent extraordinaire; and Jack Wiley, senior editor emeritus of
Smithsonian Magazine
. For the privilege and joy of writing this book, as well as for deep funds of patient guidance, I am greatly indebted to all three of them.

At Dutton, Amy Hughes also offered editorial insights with sharp perception and easy grace, and Anna Cowles smoothed the process at every turn.

Dr. John Oliphant provided expert research on the Royal Navy as well as eighteenth-century London more generally, and, at the eleventh hour, Richard J. Bell, graduate student in American History at Harvard University, produced wonderfully detailed research on Cambridge and Harvard in 1721. Rupert Baker, library manager at the Royal Society, and Michael Bosson of Harrowby MSS Trust both provided help above and beyond the call of duty. Professor Isobel Grundy of the University of Alberta, Canada, was astoundingly generous with her unpublished research on Lady Mary, as well as with encouragement; Professor Susan M. Fitzmaurice of Northern Arizona University shared her transcriptions of Edward Wortley Montagu's unpublished letters. The library staffs at the Harvard Archives, the Massachusetts Historical Society, the New England Historic Genealogical Society, the Boston Public Library's Rare Books Department, the American Antiquarian Society, the Royal Archives at Windsor Palace, the Royal Naval Museum in Portsmouth, England, and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts all provided useful information and guidance.

I conducted most of the research, however, in libraries open either to the public at large, or to scholars with bona fide reasons to use their collections. In particular, I am grateful to the Arizona Health Sciences Library, the Tucson-Pima Public Library, and the University of Arizona Library in Tucson, Arizona; the Francis A. Countway Library of Medicine, the Harvard Archives, the Houghton Library, and the Widener Library of Harvard University; and the British Library, the National Portrait Gallery's Heinz Archive and Library, the Public Record Office, and the Royal Society Library in London.

Clive Coward of the Wellcome Trust Medical Photographic Library; Caroline Jennings of the Bridgeman Art Library; James Kilvington of the National Portrait Gallery, London; Susan Danforth, curator of maps and prints at the John Carter Brown Library; David Cobb, curator of the Harvard Map Collection; and the staff at Art Resource all helped to locate relevant images.

Lady Mary's unpublished poems appear by kind permission of the earl of Harrowby (Harrowby MSS Trust). Her published works are reprinted by permission of Oxford University Press. Cotton Mather's
Angel of Bethesda
is quoted with permission from the American Antiquarian Society. Quotations from the
Boston Gazette
are reprinted from Readex Micro-print's Early American Newspapers Series with permission from Readex. Zabdiel Boylston's letter to Benjamin Colman is quoted with permission from the Massachusetts Historical Society. The Royal Society's papers are quoted with permission from the Royal Society, and the Sloane MSS are quoted with permission from the British Library.

Kathy Allen, Charlotte Lowe Bailey, Dan Shapiro, Kristen Poole, Martin Brueckner, and my mother, Melinda Carrell, read and reread the manuscript and offered many suggestions for improvement. My father, Bill Carrell, gave it a physician's critical eye. Derek Pearsall sent Dryden's smallpox poem my way.

My debt to my husband, Johnny Helenbolt, is boundless.

INTRODUCTION

IN Georgian London, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu sweeps out of a palatial bedroom in a swirl of satin and silk, her three-year-old daughter in tow. The servants are impassive as she floats by, but in her wake their faces pinch in disgust and their eyes meet in knowing glances.
“Unnatural,”
hisses the nurse to a maid. Ignoring them, she descends the grand staircase like the duke's daughter she is, but at the tall doors to the street, she pauses. She has grown accustomed to the delicate razors wielded in the plumed, powdered, and diamond-frosted high society of aristocrats and artists: countesses and poets once proud to claim her acquaintance now make ostentatiously absurd claims to parade out of any room she enters. But even that is less harrowing than what happens in public. She sets her shoulders and nods to the footmen, who swing open the doors. As she steps into the street, heads turn, and people begin pointing and jeering.

Just as the door closes on the safe haven of her coach, a servant in silver livery hands her a tray of carefully stacked notes: even as some mothers teach their children to taunt her, others send footmen day and night to beg for her presence. When they find her away from home, they fan out through the winding lanes of London to track down her carriage, wherever she may be.

 

In colonial Boston, Zabdiel Boylston rides down a muddy street; his black slave Jack follows on a mule, packing a satchel full of the tools of Boylston's trade: he's a general surgeon and an apothecary, or pharmacist. He's never been to college, but the townspeople call him “doctor” anyway, in honor of his skill. After years of practice, and before that, years of apprenticeship with his father, he's the most trusted medical man in town. A recent arrival from Scotland, William Douglass, is beginning to protest, however: Dr. Douglass may be eleven years younger than Boylston, but after studying at no fewer than four European universities, he has earned a proper medical degree. His peacock pride is infuriated by the mere presence of this untrained competitor for his fees, and even more so by the trust the provincial fools of Boston put in him.