Bursting dogs
I've been busy working on a chapter of my thesis on Jews in early modern England, and I stumbled onto a story which I'd like to share with you. I'm not sure how I'm going to work it into the thesis just yet, but I'd like to.Our story begins with James Wadsworth (1572-1623), Church of England clergyman and Roman Catholic convert. Wadsworth's commitment to the Anglican church had been waivering for a while before he left for Spain, where after a period of theological study he was granted a pension by the Spanish crown and employed by the Inquisition. Later he would tutor English to the infanta Maria. He died of consumption in 1623, and his apologia, The Contrition of a Protestant Preacher, Converted to be a Catholiqve Scholler was published posthumously at St Omer in 1625 (STC 24924.5). It is in this volume that Wadsworth recounts the following story:
"[A] christian who wickedly purposing to poyson himselfe, came to Iew a Doctor of physicke for some strong poyson: the Iew glad to kill a Christian, gaue him a violent poysonous potion. Before he dronke it, he made the signe of the crosse ouer it, as he vsed to doo commonly before he did eat or drinke. It did him no harme: he complaynes to the Iew that his poyson was not strong enoughe. The Iew coulde giue him none stronger: but the encreaseth the quantity of the same. As before, he takes it making the signe of the crosse. The poyson preuayles not. He is angry at the Iew: and the Iew is madde to see him still aliue: he doubtes the Christian had not taken it: or had mixte, or done somewhat else to it. The Christian sweares he had done nothing to it: only he remembers he had made the signe of the crosse, as alwayes he vsed. The Iew giues a little to a dogge, which presently burste. The Christian signing it with the crosse, agayne takes a great deale more of the same poyson, in the sighte of the Iew, and yet feeles no harme: whervpon he repentes: the Iew is conuerted: both of them aske God mercy, and become honest deuout men." (sig. G3r-v)
Wadsworth's story is clearly geared towards 'proving' the efficacy of the sign of the cross, and he often refers to stories such as this one in discussing other Catholic practices. What I find most interesting is the figure of the Jewish doctor. Where do you go to get hold of poison? The doctor of course! But not just any doctor - you want to get some of the good stuff - so who do you go to? The Jewish doctor. That Jews were expert poisoners was one of the traditional charges leveled against them, and is one of the reasons why the Church repeatedly forbade Christians to consult Jewish doctors. It is certainly an assocation that would have been familiar to an English audience, owing to the success and popularity of Marlowe's Jew of Malta, where the title character, Barabas, boasts about poisoning wells among his other sordid, anti-Christian exploits. But Wadsworth's story does not simply engage with this stereotype: the Jew is not only the enemy of the Christian, but he indulges in cruelty to animals. Unconvinced that the Christian has followed his directions, the Jew does not hesitate to test the efficacy of the poison on an innocent dog, which "presently burste." For an idea of what this might look like, please enjoy the following video:
This is another charge that was leveled at the Jews, perhaps founded on a misunderstanding of kosher practices, and in fact it is one that is repeated centuries later in Nazi propaganda. Finally, as with all of these sorts of stories, both parties realize the errors of their ways, the Jew converts to Christianity (presumably Roman Catholicism in this case), and become devout men. I personally don't find Wadsworth's story convincing, and I wonder whether his readers did either. In any event, this seems to me to be the first instance in English history where a dog is described as having "burste." Milton, eat your heart out...
posted by bdh @ Tuesday, November 07, 2006
3 comments
3 Comments:
The story only works *if* the doctor was Jewish, so he pretty much had to be, regardless of medical profession ratios.
You got your poison from (any) doctor/apothecary in the EM period, much as you got wine-making preparations from Boots the Chemist in the 1970s: Small unusual chemicals in bottles. Poison was still sold at chemists in the Victorian period, and on into the twentieth century. Boots do not sell it today, AFAIK.
The dog 'bursting', aside from being a lovely use of language, cannot really be termed 'animal cruelty' in EM terms, although it is in modern terms. Most people in the EM period would have loved and named specific animals as pets, esp. horses and hunting dogs, but would have also seen animals as objects, and feral ones as vermin.
But then society still does: we keep some animals as pets, but treat others as objects in intensive farming, gas badgers in bulk, and experiment on assorted animals (including ones we share a fair bit of DNA with) in drug trials as an expendable resource, as in the story.
So perhaps not that much difference then.
As it is a made-up story, no dogs were actually harmed (or detonated) in its telling. Please do not try this at home on Rover.
Of course the story is unconvincing today: magic charms of any religious flavour don't stop the chemistry of poison.
Its basically a bog standard conversion narrative, of which there were an enormous number. One of the earliest forms of prose fiction: the religious fable. Here conveyed as factual.
Those who believed that sort of thing, probably believed the story. Its feasible that conversion narratives were typically sold to people who already believed to reinforce that belief, and to give them additional supporting examples. Today people with particular political beliefs read newspapers that promote those beliefs and carry multiple stories that emphasise and support those beliefs, for much the same reason.
Published at St. Omer, most English readers would already have to be fairly committed to these beliefs to actually take the risk of having such a book in the house.
It would be interesting to record contemporary equivalents still in use today, in much the same way.
Religious TV in the US still has 'healing' sessions to demonstrate the power of belief. The portable exemplary miracle is alive and well.
There may have been an unusually high number of Jewish doctors, more research required. Any religiously unorthodox group may be excluded from some areas and may consequently become more numerous in others. A lot of non-conformists went into specific areas of commerce in the 18thC as their beliefs banned them from some areas of endeavour by law, and others by personal belief. Quakers becoming famous for their chocolate and porage oats etc. Banned from most EM political (and, obviously, religious) arenas, Jews often went into banking, and maybe medicine.
The 'exotic heritage' may have been useful in a superstitious society where much scientific knowledge was still of the 'mysterious' sort. The association between gypsies/travellers and fortune-telling has also been a strong one for this reason: the idea of secrets being kept within a group and handed down.
Given the doctor/apothecary as cheating mountebanke topos, maybe Jewish doctors were more trusted to give you the good stuff. Today a lot of otherwise xenophobic Britons buy German and Japanese cars for their reliability. Times change, but not people.
Fascinating. But of all of it, on purely literary grounds, I prefer the bursting dog image. Thomas Hardy went one better and had exploding sheep of course...immortal line: "the sheep have blasted theirselves".
Sit under a tree on a warm summer's evening in Dorset, and maybe, just maybe, along with the birdsong, you will hear the sheep going off in the distance.
Thanks for your response – some interesting points that I hadn't considered. I agree that it is clearly part of the conversion narrative tradition, and perhaps even from the earlier medieval exempla which often contain elements of the miraculous.
Given the doctor/apothecary as cheating mountebanke topos, maybe Jewish doctors were more trusted to give you the good stuff. Yes, but the Jew as poisoner is another common topos. You have papal edicts that forbid Christians from seeing Jewish doctors because of the fear that they will seek to harm rather than heal. There's also the whole issue about Jewish doctors being able to "fib" to their clients – all of which has been neatly documented by Winfried Schleiner.
Thanks for the Hardy reference. If I do include the story in my chapter, I'll be sure to mention it!
Brett: I had a 'Doh!' moment a few weeks ago, when I followed through to discover your blog. After all your patient and contributory comments on mine, I felt ashamed. But here I am, however belatedly, and comment how bizarre it seems to buttress your apparently sincere faith with a story as inanely early modern Marvel mag as this one is. Also, that one way people got poison was to visit the local cunning woman, who would attempt some image magic against your target. This would not work: technical problems, you have to be patient (etc) - then your practitioner of the bogus arts (having contacts) would offer you some 'veneficial magic': 'Try some of this on him, then, if you must have quick results'. Then you were deep in trouble: the accounts of Frances Howard show her slipping into being blackmailed by ..(was it 'Cunning Mary'?)
Gabriel Oak has a busy day deflating some blasted sheep, I recall (re. animal husbandry in Hardy).
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