By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-
We saw last week that foreign medicines had long been in great demand
in Ethiopia. We saw also that, by the middle of the nineteenth century,
such medicines were relatively well known, and relatively much used, at
the country’s more important towns, particularly in governing and
related circles.
King Sahla Sellase
King Sahla Sellase of Shawa was in particular a great fan of foreign
medical treatment. This is fully apparent in the often excessively
critical reports of the British envoy, Captain Harris. In May 1842 he
reported:
“The King’s attention would appear to be now solely engrossed in
amassing medicines. Finding that the stock of calomel [in the palace]
had been nearly exhausted in the cure of fifteen hundred syphilitic
patients he has sent constantly [to the British Embassy] during the last
fortnight to request supplies of every drug contained in the stores,
with explanations for use, and expressed much disappointment at learning
that the chest contained neither the horn of a serpent, which he
believed to possess the most valuable medical virtues, nor any cure for
those who go mad from looking at a black dog.”
Emphasising the number of patients then coming to the British
Residency for treatment, and his wish to collaborate, by providing
medical assistance, Harris continued:
“Wretches flocking to the residency for relief from the remotest
corners of Shoa, I have imparted to His Majesty my scheme for the more
general diffusion of the advantages of mercury [a medicine then widely
used for syphilis] within his dominion, and it appears to have received
the royal approbation.”
Returning to the King’s constant desire for medicines, the envoy wrote again, in June, to report:
“The royal stock of European medicines was again brought down to be
labelled, although very ample directions relative to their properties
had previously been given…”
The Ordinary People
The Ethiopian public at large was no less responsive to foreign
medicines. Barker, another member of the British mission, wrote about
the ordinary people:
“Notwithstanding their asserted contempt for the white strangers on
our first arrival [they] are obliged to admit that they are superior to
them in many instances. Many were the visits I received from persons
residing at great distances who came to be cured for their real or
imaginary diseases or to procure medicine for their relatives. One man
begged earnestly for medicine for his daughter residing at Angolala (32
miles distant) upon whom the evil eye had fallen, another on behalf of
his brother who had his skull fractured by a fall from his mule at
Kooldars, another also on behalf of his brother, a man in the downhill
of life, or to use a more common expression, on the wrong side of
forty.”
The British mission was thus kept constantly busy with medical matters. Its surgeon, Kirk, reported, in March 1842:
“Since the arrival of this mission in August 1841 I have… afforded
medical assistance to at least 1,000 individuals, two-thirds of them
being common cases of syphilis, a disease which is exceedingly common
and is committing great ravages in the kingdom of Shoa, attacking all
ranks and all ages, from the lowest beggar to the immediate relatives of
the King.”
Turning to the treatment he used, he adds: “I have found mercury
combined with opium a mild and certain remedy for every form of the
disease, for which with the doubtful exception of their thermal springs
they have no remedy.”
The British mission, not surprisingly, soon found itself acutely
short of medical supplies. Harris accordingly wrote urgently to the
British Government to supply him with some forty different types of
medicine, as well as a lancet. In his request for blue powder, used in
the treatment of syphilis, he observed that on its arrival it was his
intention “to suggest to the King the distribution of portions of it
throughout the kingdom by the hands of natives instructed in its use, in
order to admit of the blessing being more widely enjoyed.”
This plan for a modern-type medical facility had, however, to be
abandoned, because of the mission’s speedy departure. Fourteen pounds of
mercury in the mission store were, however, converted into blue pills.
Harris, who wished to present his stay in Ethiopia as a grand
success, later claimed, obviously with some exaggeration, that he and
his compatriots had “rescued three thousand patients from the jaws of
death.”
Charles Johnston
Beside the official British mission there was a private English
medical practitioner. He was a British naval surgeon, Charles Johnston,
who lived in Shawa, mainly at Ankobar, Aleyu Amba, and Angolala, in
1841. He has left no details of his own medical work, but he is
important in Ethiopia’s medical history: his memoirs contain much
valuable data on traditional Ethiopian medicine and surgery.
The Impact of Foreign Medicine
One of those apparently much impressed by the coming of the British
mission, and presumably its involvement in modern medicine, was Sahla
Sellase’s mother. The German missionary Krapf quotes her as exclaiming,
in March 1842,
“What astonishing things we have seen in the time of Sahla Sellase!
Formerly we only heard of these things, and of your white people; but
now we have seen with our eye and believe what we were told!”
An Armenian in Tegray
Foreign medicine meanwhile was also making its appearance in other
parts of the country, notably in Tegray and Gondar, as well as at the
coast.
Report has it that the leading resident foreign practitioner in
Tegray, towards the middle of the nineteenth century, was an Armenian
called Gorgorius. Little is known of his methods of treatment, except
what was reported by the renowned British resident Mansfield Parkyns.
The latter, who was very critical of them, claims that the Armenian
administered sufferers of venereal diseases,”at a considerable charge
what he professes to be a certain cure.” This consisted, however, of
“nothing more than a dozen or two pills containing corrosive sublimate,”
the recipe for which he had “no doubt, obtained from some quack.”
Though a dangerous medicine, Parkyns was convinced that it might,”if
properly administered, be beneficial; but with our friend, who never
troubles himself either to examine the patient, or enquire how long he
has been afflicted, simply receiving his fee and desiring his patient to
take so many per day until the box is finished, it is a case of kill
perhaps, oftener than of cure.”
Mansfield Parkyns
Mansfield Parkyns himself practiced a certain amount of medicine. He
recalls that, using calomel pills, he treated “many cases of venereal
disease,” and achieved “much success” when able to treat patients in
time. He complains that patients were, however, often “very difficult to
deal with, for they cannot be made to understand that, where one dose
will do them good, two may be injurious.”
A Turk in Gondar
Early nineteenth century Gondar also had a resident foreign medical
practitioner. He was a Turkish veterinarian, who had reportedly deserted
from the Egyptian cavalry, and practised in the Muslim section of the
city. He is said to have possessed a stock of foreign medicines, which
he had acquired from various European travellers, but according to the
Frenchman d’Abbadie, was “not acquainted with their properties or
doses.”
Medicine and Politics at the Coast
Popular interest in foreign medicine was so great that it was on one
occasion at least a factor contributing to the penetration of European
colonialism.
This can be seen if we look at the unpublished report of the French
traveller Combes, who reveals how he acquired the small Red Sea port of
Edd in 1840. He relates that one of his companions, Peluchenau, on
landing there, was at once asked by one of the elders for medicine for
his child, who was covered with sores. Peluchenau replied that “many
months would be required to cure the illness.” The father, thinking only
of his son, replied,”Well then, stay with us!”
“It was thus,” Combes explains, “that negotiations began. “Friend,”
resumed M. Peluchenau,” will you give us houses and a small piece of
land if we wish to establish ourselves among you?”. “Without any doubt”
replied the African. “And if we ask you to sell the land, will you agree
to sell it?” “Certainly”. “Very well” said M. Peluchenau, “we will go
on board, and I will finish this business for you with M. Combes.”
The man of Edd accordingly accompanied Peluchenau on board the boat,
and France had thereby established itself on the Red Sea coast, of what
is now Eritrea.
Medicine and politics, then as later, often went hand in hand.
Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org
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