Education is a near universally recognised ‘good’ across
histories of the modern world, with more and better quality schooling seen as a
progressive social reform and a marker of a modern, civilised society. However,
the introduction of mass schooling in Britain and America was the product of a
social and political struggle which was not easily won.1 Few disagreed that education improved the
minds of pupils, but many people argued that it was not always good for their
bodies; indeed, schools became great centres of contagion. Epidemics of major
childhood infections such as measles, diphtheria and chickenpox periodically
affected institutions and in some cases led to school closures.2 Less recognised then, as
now, was that schools were sites of exchange of endemic, social diseases, from
serious, typically fatal infections, such as tuberculosis, through to endemic
conditions, such as ringworm, which had mild symptoms but carried severe social
stigma. The term ‘ringworm’ is very old and comes from the
circular patches of peeled, inflamed skin that characterises the infection. In
medicine at least, no one understood it to be associated with worms of any
description.
In the early part of the nineteenth century, ringworm was well recognised by
doctors and the public as an inflammation of the scalp, associated with
reddening of the skin, itching, circles of peeling skin and hair loss. In
children it was also popularly known as ‘scald-head’, a term
derived from ‘scaled’ and ‘scabby’ rather than
burns, and in medicine as a form of porrigo – skin complaints associated
with the production of pustules. The naming and classification of skin diseases
had been hugely contested from the 1790s until the publication of a system
proposed by the English physician Robert Willans, who worked at the Carey Street
Public Dispensary in London.3 However, by the 1830s, when serious medical attention
first focused on ringworm, the debate had settled to become one between those
who saw the condition as localised in the skin and those who also looked to
constitutional, internal factors. Both sides agreed that it was contagious and
prevalent in children, especially the poor, who lived in crowded conditions and
in orphanages, boarding schools and other institutions. The exciting cause was
mostly talked about as a ‘fungus’, but susceptibility was
explained in terms of the child having immature skin, a weak general
constitution, dirty skin and poor hygiene, or all of these.
The role of ‘seed and soil’ in the causes, pathology, treatment
and prevention of ringworm was debated throughout the nineteenth century and
beyond. In this chapter, we tell the story of how and why the understanding of
doctors and the public about the nature of ringworm changed in the period
1830–1910, focusing on the disease in school children. We first set the
story of ringworm in the context of the emergence of dermatology, a specialism
that grew largely in outpatient and dispensary settings. At this time, fungal
diseases generally were understood mostly to affect the skin and outer membranes
of the body, which was the domain of surgeons and later the new specialists in
dermatology. We discuss the role of dermatologists in the development and spread
of germ theories of skin diseases, showing that they were pioneers amongst
clinicians in working with these ideas and changing to antiseptic practices. Our
narrative then turns to the problem of ringworm in school children and attempts
to manage the disease for sufferers and their families, and we show that the
social consequences and stigma of the infection were far worse than the disease
itself. Finally, we analyse new treatments, especially the use of X-rays, and
school medical inspections, where children worried about the nurse finding both
nits and ringworm.
‘Scald-head’
Robert Willans, London’s leading skin specialist in the late
eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, reported that in his career he
had seen children from over 200 schools and colleges in London affected by
ringworm. While its effects on the physical body were localised and
relatively mild, on personal development they were serious, as Samuel
Plumbe, Willan’s successor, explained in 1835.4
In the earlier periods of the lives of children there is no disease,
no species of deviation from sound health, if we except scrofula,
which operates so perniciously on the future prospects of the
individual, as ring-worm, if of long continuance. The moment an
unfortunate child is found by the schoolmaster or the schoolmistress
with a spot on the head, the latter, very properly (not merely for
interest’s sake, but as a duty to the parents of all the
other children), sends the child home, refuses to readmit until
thoroughly cured. The consequence of this is, to the unfortunate
child, a loss of time at that period of life when it can be least
afforded, the period of early education.5
It was not only children who suffered, their teachers did too.
Plumbe observed that the disease was ‘destructive of the best
instructors of children, for the conductors of establishments of previously
high character and reputation found their pupils drop off in large numbers,
and many good schools have been utterly ruined by it’.
6There are no figures for the incidence of ringworm in the nineteenth century,
but every indication is that it was very prevalent.7 There were, for instance, a huge
number of proprietary ointments, lotions and potions sold by local chemists
and self-treatment advice was proffered in popular health manuals and
advertisements. The 1790 edition of William Buchan’s
Domestic Medicine recommended ‘keeping the head
very clean, cutting off the hair, combing and brushing away the scabs, &
c.’, plus the use of ointments.8 Mrs Beeton offered several treatment regimes in
her Book of Household Management, including the application
of sulphur and treacle, creosote, or calomel.9 There were numerous reports of cases
and treatments in national and regional medical journals, for all types of
infection.10 At
many sites on the body, the characteristic rings were hidden by clothing and
hard to see, which meant that sufferers and doctors found it difficult to
distinguish ringworm from other inflammatory afflictions, such as favus,
eczema, psoriasis and impetigo. Surgeons considered therapy relatively
straight-forward on any part of the body except the scalp, where ringworm
was typically persistent. Although the disease affected all ages, medical
discussion focused on children and on their scalps.11 It was the most visible form of the
disease, both medically and socially, as infected children were stigmatised
as unclean and their parents regarded as uncaring.
In Britain, ringworm first attracted national medical and public attention in
1835, following reports of
its high prevalence at Christ’s Hospital School, one of
London’s foremost public schools, which included amongst its old
boys Charles Lamb and Samuel Taylor Coleridge.12 In this outbreak there were two
issues: firstly, the infection was often said to be an indicator of poor
management by the governors and staff, as well as damaging to the reputation
of the school; and secondly, if children were excluded for weeks on end,
their education was suffering and the school was losing income.13 An editorial in the
Lancet complained that the governors had been negligent
in not drawing upon the expertise of doctors, especially those who had dealt
successfully with other serious outbreaks at the London Orphan Asylum and
the Royal Naval School.14 A committee of Christ’s governors was
appointed to look into the problem and they invited Plumbe to advise them.
His report nicely illustrates medical thinking on the affliction at the time
in terms of exciting causes (contagion) and predisposing causes (general
health and cleanliness). As was typical of the fractious character of skin
specialists at this time, he was dismissive of Robert Willans – who
he saw as no better than a nostrum monger – and of the French
dermatologists. His view of the nature of ringworm was that it was both
constitutional and contagious:
The simple circular contagious ringworm is not, as has been supposed
by many, produced only by infection or contagion. It arises in a
very large portion of cases from the same sources as other diseases
of the skin, such as improper diet, producing constipation of the
bowels; restraint of the due and healthy exercise of children;
repletion from over feeding, or from merely a single indulgence of
sweet-meats or cakes, producing acidity. Yet thus originating it is
quite as contagious as that which has spread directly in a family,
from child to child, by contact, where no derangement of the stomach
or system can be traced or suspected.15
Plumbe advised surveillance to control the spread of the
disease by examining boys on entry, washing bedding regularly and isolating
those infected. This might involve moving those suffering to separate rooms,
or simply making them wear protective caps or headwear. He also wanted
pupils to have improved diets, both in quantity and in quality. He linked
this to the danger of scurvy, writing that ‘the almost entire
privation of vegetables tends to produce, if it be not the sole cause of the
eruptive diseases’.
16 Plumbe was a ‘skin doctor’ before
the era of specialisation, so it would be anachronistic to characterise him
as a dermatologist; indeed, that term did not gain currency until the 1880s,
but he does represent the common situation in the nineteenth century where
surgeons had known areas of specialist expertise.
17Dermatology and fungus theories of skin diseases
Historians of nineteenth century British clinical medicine have highlighted
that key national characteristic of resistance to specialism in hospital
practice amongst elite physicians and surgeons and the celebration of the
virtues of the generalist.18 ‘The narrow specialism of
dermatology’, as it was termed in 1874, was one of a number of
organor technique-based specialist areas that drew the wrath of
critics.19 For
example, a reviewer of Mapother’s Diseases of the
Skin, published in 1875, was severe on the author’s
expertise and his claims to special competence.
It is, indeed, but too true that the great body of specialists is
composed largely of those who are intellectually quite incapable of
comprehending all the departments for the healing arts. They succeed
only by limiting their sphere of action; they triumphantly paddle in
pools who would not live a moment in the stream. With the exception
of ophthalmologists, specialists cannot, as a rule, be said to be
amongst the best educated of the profession; and worse than all, the
exclusive practice of some small speciality tends to perpetuate and
increase ignorance, if it do not also deprave professional
morals.20
However, Edward Dillon Mapother was no exclusive
practitioner.
21 He
had been Medical Officer of Health for Dublin in the 1860s, wrote
extensively on medical education, and was appointed Professor of Anatomy and
Physiology at the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland, eventually becoming
its president. He had special interests in syphilis and gout, as well as in
skin diseases.
Why was so much scorn poured on specialists? One explanation was the rivalry
between surgeons and physicians, though this was complicated by the
emergence of another divide between general practitioners and
consultants.22 Both
consultant surgeons and physicians attacked specialisation, but many
practitioners had niches with particular diseases, and combined general and
specialist work. The case of the emergent specialism of dermatology is
instructive.23 It
grew from surgical practice after the mid-nineteenth century, with
specialist journals being published from the 1870s. The diagnosis and
treatment of skin diseases had been a large and important part of
surgeons’ work and hence income. The future of general surgery
seemed to lie in two directions: on the one hand extending the number and
range of operations, while on the other hand becoming more
‘medical’. For example, in the treatment of syphilis, the
cauterisation or excision of primary lesions on the skin was regarded as
ineffectual and surgeons relied more upon constitutional treatment with
mercury.24 Treating
syphilis may have been a good source of income for surgeons, but sufferers
were stigmatised and this rubbed off on surgeons. In fact, the term
‘quack’, widely applied to so-called specialists, was a
contraction of ‘quacksalver’, or quicksilver, one of the
most widely used specific treatments for syphilis.
Specialist practice in skin diseases was largely in hospital outpatient
departments and dispensaries, the first of which, the Royal London and
Westminster Infirmary for the Treatment of Cutaneous Diseases, was opened in
1819.25 In the
capital, a Hospital for Diseases of the Skin (later the Blackfriars Skin
Hospital) followed in 1841, with satellite dispensaries opening in 1843,
1844, 1850, 1851 and 1857.26 A new era in skin hospitals began in 1863 with the
opening of the St John’s Hospital for Disease of the Skin, followed
by many more such institutions.27 John Laws Milton founded St John’s
initially with the support of leading figures on diseases of the skin, such
as Erasmus Wilson, William Tilbury Fox and J. Mill Frodsham.28 The new skin hospitals
had few beds and their dispensary work directly challenged the businesses of
local general practitioners and elite consultants. In response, many
voluntary hospitals set up ‘skin departments’, promising the
best of all worlds: specialist, accessible care without hospitalisation,
available in general hospitals where other specialist and general
consultants were available.
Erasmus Wilson was Britain’s leading authority on diseases of the
skin and he founded the short-lived Journal of Cutaneous
Medicine in 1867.29 He was a polymath and populariser, who
published books on the skin, food and Egyptology, and is best known for
funding the transportation of Cleopatra’s Needle to London in 1878.
Wilson popularised the term ‘dermatology’, first lecturing
on the subject in 1840, and publishing On Diseases of the Skin:
Practical and Theoretical Treatise in 1842. His private
practice and investments were so successful that in 1869 he donated monies
to the Royal College of Surgeons to establish a professorship of
dermatology, which he held from 1869 to 1878, giving an annual series of
lectures. In his own clinical practice, Wilson saw no conflict between
generalism and specialism, but he was opposed to the exclusive specialist
practice of others. Although trained as a surgeon, he claimed that almost
all skin diseases were internal and constitutional in origin, which required
medical as much as external surgical or topical treatments. Thus, skin
diseases needed to be diagnosed and treated by someone who understood the
workings of the whole body, not just its outer layer. He was an opponent of
contagious germ or fungal explanations of skin conditions, believing that
any such matter present was a ‘secondary or adventitious
product’ rather an exciting cause.30
In the 1860s, two teaching hospitals, University College Hospital and the
Glasgow Western Infirmary, established dermatology departments, and
appointed two men who made ringworm a model for germ theories of skin
disease: Thomas M’Call (sometimes McCall) Anderson and Tilbury
Fox.31
M’Call Anderson published On the Parasitic Affections of the
Skin in 1861 and Tilbury Fox published his Skin
Diseases of Parasitic Origin two years later.32 Like Wilson, Tilbury
Fox opposed specialisms, whereas M’Call Anderson argued that this
was how progress was being made in medicine in France and Germany and that
Britain should follow.33 Yet M’Call Anderson was another example of
someone who combined general and specialist practice. He became Professor of
Clinical Medicine at the Glasgow Western Infirmary and then Regius Professor
in 1904, and his obituary celebrated how he maintained specialist work and
writing on skin diseases, along with clinical teaching and running a large
private practice. Tilbury Fox and M’Call Anderson united against
Wilson’s claim that fungi had no causal role in skin diseases. Given
his dominant position, it is unsurprising that Wilson represented what was
termed the ‘British school of dermatology’ that saw most
skin diseases to be of internal, constitutional origin – mostly
forms of eczema – which required internal remedies.
Fungus germs
From the 1850s, ringworm was regarded as a fungus disease. This made it an
early candidate to be a germ disease when debates about the causes of
infectious and contagious diseases turned to microorganisms in the
1870s.34 Some
histories of germ theories of disease, anticipating the closure on bacterial
causes in the 1880s, have ignored the many types of entity – animal,
vegetable and mineral – that were candidates to be disease germs in
1860s and 1870s. Good examples of such openness were the views of Samuel
Wilks, the leading London physician. In his Address in Medicine at the
British Medical Association (BMA) in June 1872, he spoke variously of disease being caused
by ‘vegetable germs’, ‘a fungus’,
‘specific organic particles’ and ‘a
virus’.35
Wilks also made the point that the ‘seeds’ of disease, its
germs, needed to find suitable ‘soil’. Ringworm was one of
his examples and he placed it, no doubt surprisingly for modern readers,
alongside cancer as a disease that grew and spread within the body.
A ringworm grows and grows wherever the soil is propitious; the itch
insect spreads over the body and the hydatid often swells until its
host is destroyed. Cancer-cells divide and propagate until they have
killed their victim which has supplied them with nourishment; and
the germs of small-pox will do the same.36
Another key issue with fungi (the collective botanical name at
the time was the
Mycetes) was whether they were made up of
fixed species, or were they so simple that their biology was shaped by the
conditions in which they grew. Moreover, if there were fixed species, how
could these be differentiated when their forms and modes of reproduction
were so variable.
The same question was important in germ theories of diseases, not least with
bacterial versions. The scientific name for bacteria at this time was the
Schizomycetes, literally, ‘fission
fungi’.37
Being surgeons by training, dermatologists were early adopters of
antiseptics, if not converts to germ theories of putrefaction and
inflammation, and through the promotional activities of Joseph Lister had
early and consistent exposure to new ideas on germs. The standard chemical
antiseptic, carbolic acid, was tried as a fungicide with ringworm and other
skin infections, along with sulphurous acid, acetic acid, iodine and
mercuric chloride.38
However, the lengthy applications of such caustic substances meant that the
treatment was often worse than the cure.
The books of Tilbury Fox and M’Call Anderson, which many read as
suggesting that almost all skin diseases were of fungal origin, prompted
debates that anticipated many of the issues that divided opinion over
bacterial germ theories of disease in the last quarter of the nineteenth
century.39 First,
there was the question of whether any fungi found in diseased skin were
necessary causes of disease or just concomitants.40 Second, doctors asked whether fungi,
when present, could only develop on dead tissue, acting as saprophytes; or
whether they could actually invade and colonise living tissue, as infective
agents or contagium viva. It was in this vein that the
cholera fungus controversy in the late 1840s and 1850s had been framed.41 Third, if fungi were
agents of disease, was there one pathogenic fungus that produced different
diseases because its effects and form depended on the tissue on which it
grew: that is, it was pleomorphic (pleo – many +
morphic − form). Or, did distinct species of
pathogenic fungi produce different diseases? In his volume, Tilbury Fox
argued that all pathogenic fungi were forms of Tinea
– the ringworm fungus – which he made ‘the generic
term for parasitic affections of the surface’, echoing the views of
the Ernst Hallier in Germany on the pleomorphic character of fungi.42 Against this,
M’Call Anderson maintained that different fungi caused distinct and
specific diseases, and that they could do so in both dead and living tissue.
He classed fungal infections as ‘vegetable parasitic
affections’, placing them alongside animal parasitic ones, such as
scabies, and those caused by ‘poisons’ or
‘viruses’, such as syphilis.
The impact of bacteriology on the management of skin diseases was to shift
treatments to be anti-germ.43 As noted above, doctors recommended germ-killing
antiseptics, but also tried to break the passage of germs by
‘isolating’ the infected area, by covering it with a
dressing or grease of some type. The ringworm caps worn by children combined
all of these. The exclusion of infected children from school became more
common and there were some suggestions of isolating families in their homes.
At the same time, most doctors continued to recommend measures that aimed to
strengthen the bodily ‘soil’ against the
‘seeds’ of disease. Although it would be wrong to make too
much of the conjunction, the Dermatological Society of London was founded in
1882, the very same year in which Koch announced his discovery of the
Tubercle bacillus, which could also infect the skin and
was associated with leprosy and lupus.44 From this time, leading dermatologists
associated particular germs with specific skin diseases.45
Ringworm in schools – ringworm schools
Outbreaks of ringworm in schools, workhouse and other institutions were
reported throughout the mid-Victorian period, but they attracted little
medical or public attention. However, things changed after the introduction
of mass schooling following the 1870 Education Act and Tilbury Fox was
called upon in 1875 for advice on control and prevention by the
government.46
School attendance had revealed both the ‘verminous
condition’ of many children and created ‘nurseries of
ringworm’ as classroom and playgrounds were ideal for spreading
infection.47
Ringworm was one of a number of health problems that were taken up by
medical officers of health, and later school medical officers.48 The
Lancet established a Commission on the Sanitary
Condition of Our Public Schools, which released a report in 1875, calling
for improvements in buildings, dietary and welfare, plus measures to control
infectious diseases, especially scabies, scarlet fever and ringworm.49 There was broad
medical agreement that children with ringworm should be excluded from
school, though there was disagreement on remedial action: some doctors
recommended shaving the head and wearing a cap, others preferred the
vigorous application of disinfectant ointments and lotions. When children
who had been excluded could return was, in fact, more of an issue than when
to exclude them.50
Capped and shaved ringworm children represented popular fears of contagion,
though doctors often played down the link with dirt and insanitary
environments, claiming ringworm was simply a ‘catching’,
germ disease. Indeed, Robert Liveing, a leading authority on dermatology,
noted in 1879 that ‘gutter children’ tended to be exempt
from infection, despite being filthy and unkempt. Why? Because they did not
attend school, nor did they ever brush their hair, so they were never
exposed to the germs.51
The leading medical authority on ringworm in the latter part of the
nineteenth century was Herbert Alder Smith, who spent his whole career as a
medical officer at Christ’s Hospital School at Newgate in
London.52 His book,
Ringworm: its diagnosis and treatment, went through
four editions between 1880 and
1897.53 Alder Smith
took the view that ringworm was a local infection that had no impact on
general health; hence, it should be treated locally, with general remedies
only used as an adjunct. He only saw the bodily ‘soil’ in
terms of age and diet, making the familiar point that the disease was rarely
present after puberty and that children who disliked fat, along with those
who were ill-nourished, seemed more vulnerable. He gained a readership in
part because of his experience and in part because he offered a novel
treatment. He claimed that he had identified ‘nature’s
method of effecting a cure’, a type of inflammation he termed
‘kerion’ which led to hair loss.54 To produce a localised
‘kerion’ reaction artificially, he applied drops of croton
oil, a widely used counter-irritant, to individual hair follicles to make
them ‘tender, swollen, red and infiltrated’; the aim was to
produce ‘a speedy and certain cure’ by depilation.55
However, this was one was amongst hundreds, possibly thousands, of formulae
that doctors prescribed for ringworm, with new treatments being regularly
reported in medical journals.56 On hairless parts of the body, such as the
hands and face, ringworm was readily treatable, with school children finding
ordinary writing ink very effective, probably because it contained,
‘gallic acid and tannin (derived from vegetable galls), ferrous
sulphate, mucilage, and haematoxylin (derived from logwood)’.
However, ringworm on the scalp was often unmoveable, hence the attraction of
shaving and chemical depilation. In addition to medical remedies, ringworm
was included in the conditions cured by the huge number of proprietary or
popular remedies sold by chemists and available from many sources. For
example, advertised in the Manchester press in 1889 was the ‘Health
Restorer Ointment’, which was said to be the ‘Best, Safest
and Speediest Cure in the World for Burns, Scalds, Ulcer, Chilblains, Itch,
Ringworm, Scabbed Heads, Eczema, and all Skin Diseases’, whilst
‘Old Doctor Townsend’s blood purifying ‘Old American
Sarsaparilla’ offered cleansing from within.57 Londoners could try
‘Cook’s Antiseptic Soap’, which had been endorsed in
the Lancet in May 1888, and ‘Grasshopper
Ointment’, which also cured ‘Bad Legs, House-Maids Knee,
Ulcerated Joints, Carbuncles, Poisoned Hands, Tumours, Cancers and
Abscesses’.58
The main impact of germ ideas and practices was in public health, with a
switch to policies that focused on individuals as carriers of pathogens and
practices of disinfection, isolation and notification.59 With regard to infectious diseases
overall, this change particularly affected children, who were by far the
majority of patients in the new isolation hospitals and whose health was
targeted by school medical inspections.60 A prominent example of the new concerns and
approaches was in 1891, when the Poor Law North Surrey Board School in
Anerley called in a top London dermatologist to advise on dealing with the
large number of children with persistent ringworm.61 Joseph Payne found 23 out of 45
children had been in isolation for over a year and five had suffered for
over four years. He found no fault in the ‘thorough, scientific and
conscientious’ response of the teachers, the medical officer or the
managers.62 He made
recommendations, but the problem persisted. Two years later, in May 1893,
the school turned to another London specialist, Dr Alfred Eddowes. He found
47 cases and, while agreeing that the medical officer was highly competent,
he nevertheless recommended that he took overall control, as with ringworm
‘detail’ was all important.63 He visited once a fortnight over
four months, after which he claimed to have cured 25 children and improved
the remainder; eventual eradication seemed inevitable.64
Policies for ringworm were developed along similar lines to diphtheria and
scarlet fever, although it was much less serious, because of its impact on
sufferers and their families. It became, quite literally, a social disease.
Infected children were given special status and treatment because they
seemed manifestly ‘unclean’ and stigmatised by other
children and their families, and by neighbours. In addition, teachers and
doctors expressed concerns about the consequences of exclusion for the
individual, their family and the future mental fitness of the nation.
Abraham and Eddowes explained the issues in 1894.
Now that school attendance is compulsory and that the well-caredfor
children of poor but respectable families often have to associate at
school with those of the dirtiest and most careless classes of the
community it is a moral duty that all reasonable precautions should
be insisted on by the authorities in order to minimise the risk of
infection from the diseased to the healthy. A skin disease also,
contracted at school, may be taken home to the brothers and
sisters.65
Malcolm Morris, a leading dermatologist and syphilologist,
while unwavering on the need for the strict exclusion of affected children,
called for a survey to determine the extent of the problem, suggesting that
there should be special ringworm schools where excluded children could
continue their education.
66Ringworm was targeted by London’s Metropolitan Asylums Board (MAB)
when, in 1897, it included specific measures in its plans for a variety of
special institutions ‘to eradicate the physical taints of pauperism
and to place them on a fairer level of health for the race of
life’.67
Ringworm was included alongside contagious diseases of the eye,
convalescence and open air treatment, mental defectives, the physically
disabled, and ‘young offenders’.68 The first, and as it turned out,
temporary special institution for ringworm was the Bridge School in Witham,
Essex, started in 1901. It was replaced by the Downs Ringworm School (also
known as Banstead Road School) in Sutton, Surrey, in February 1903. Here
children were housed in blocks of 70 beds, attended lessons within the
institution, and were treated by the daily bathing of their scalp, intensive
applications of lotions and the extraction of diseased hairs.69 In the first ten
months, 618 children were admitted, of whom 208 were discharged, 153
‘cured’ and the remainder recalled by local Poor Law
Guardians.70
Children sent to special schools were the exception; most children with
ringworm were excluded from school and treated at home. Some doctors thought
exclusion unnecessary and unproductive, as very few parents were able to
keep infected children away from their siblings, or from playing with other
children after school. Phineas Abraham, surgeon at the Hospital of the Skin
at Blackfriars, London, argued in 1900 that when a child’s head was
‘kept greasy with germicidal ointments and always covered with a
closely fitted cap’, they should be allowed to attend school.71 Everyone who wrote on
the subject agreed that the ringworm caused more social than physical
suffering. Infected children had no pain (other than from itching and the
caustic lotions), no general illness, and there were no permanent effects on
the skin or hair. Their suffering was ‘exclusion from school and, to
a great extent, banishment from society’.72 Parents endured some degree of
stigma and had to manage their child’s isolation.73 Also, while doctors accepted that
all social classes were vulnerable and that ‘dirt’ as such
was not a factor, ringworm was far less common amongst the well-to-do,
because they were allegedly ‘less ignorant and gave greater care to
their offspring’.
Doctors’ confidence in their ability to prevent and treat the
condition grew as they increasingly believed that they knew their
enemy.74 The French
dermatologist, Raimond Sabouraud, who had trained at the Institut Pasteur,
was a leading doctor at the famous Hôpital Saint-Louis in Paris, and
published major works on the biology of ringworm organisms. In 1886, the
Saint-Louis had opened its ‘L’ecole des teigneux’,
or ‘ringworm school’, colloquially known as a school for the
scabby children. A decade later it opened ‘le laboratoire municipal
des teignes de la Ville de Paris’.75 Sabouraud was the first director and his
institution became famous for adapting bacteriological methods to working
with fungi in the laboratory and for work on les teignes
– ‘ringworm’.76 He identified three groups of causal
organisms, promising closure to the uncertainty over whether there was one
ringworm fungus or many, and the degree to which species were
pleomorphic.77 His
publications were well received, but it was above all his demonstrations and
displays at the 1896
International Congress of Dermatology in London that were decisive in
enrolling others to his standpoints.78 In 1897 Herbert Aldersmith (he changed his name from Alder Smith in
the 1890s) wrote that Sabouraud’s ‘new views have completely
revolutionised all older ones, and necessitated the separate description of
the different forms of ringworm, and their microscopic
appearances’.79
A key finding was distinguishing between ectothrix infections that affected
the outside of the hair (e.g. Microsporon spp.) and
endothrix ones that invaded the hair shaft (e.g.
Trichophyton spp.) There was some dissent in Britain,
notably from two leading London dermatologists, Thomas Colcott Fox and Frank
Blaxall, of the Westminster Hospital, who maintained that
Trichophyton and Microsporon were not
in separate families, and from Leslie Roberts who emphasised physiological
over morphological differences.80 Nonetheless, Sabouraud’s
classification framed medical work on ringworm for the next decade, not
least in epidemiological surveys of the incidence of the different
organisms.81 For
example, a survey in 1903 found that over 90% of ringworm cases in London
hospitals were due to Microsporon audouinii and
Microsporon canis, the latter found in dogs, which
compared with 60% in Metropolitan Asylums Board school children.82 In Paris the main
species were M. audouinii and T.
mentagrophytes, the latter having a reservoir in dogs, cats and
other animals.
Medical interest in ringworm in the United States was much less pronounced
than in Britain.83 The
schooling system was more fragmented, being organised at state and local
level across a vast area. While education was regarded as very important and
widely available, compulsory schooling in all states arrived around 1900,
three decades after Britain.84 There was no dedicated American medical
publication on ringworm until 1921, when John P. Turner’s booklet Ringworm and
its successful treatment was published.85 Turner was a medical inspector of
public schools in Philadelphia, though he wrote as a general practitioner
recommending the application of simple chemicals and cleanliness. There were
few articles in American medical journals on ringworm, though cases were
discussed at dermatological meetings, along with scabies, pediculosis and
impetigo, but as problems of individual hygiene rather than being associated
with age or class. The main problem was with M. canis,
perhaps reflecting the closeness of humans to pets and other animals, even
in urban settings in America at this time.
However, medical and public responses to the related fungal disease of favus
were quite different. By the turn of the century, favus had been linked to
the fungus Achorion schoenleinii and had been found to be
the most common skin infection amongst immigrants from Europe. Favus was
characterised as a ‘loathsome disease’ and, after trachoma,
a contagious eye infection, was the second largest cause of immigrants being
rejected, or sent to isolation for treatment after inspections at Ellis
Island.86 Howard
Markel has discussed why trachoma attracted so much attention given its low
incidence and the same argument applies to favus; namely, that it was an
easily recognised condition that was made a marker of the person being
‘unclean’ and hence ‘unfit’ for acceptance
into the United States.87 In American cities, school children with ringworm
were sometimes excluded, but there were no special institutions as there
were in Paris and London.88
‘The X-ray Revolution’
In the 1900s, Raimond Sabouraud’s reputation as the world’s
leading authority on ringworm was taken to a new level when he pioneered the
X-ray treatment of infected scalps.89 At this time, X-rays were one of the
technological wonders of the age as ‘skiagraphs’ revealed
the body’s internal structure. They promised not just the
transformation of medicine but also wider social and cultural progress.90 Sabouraud’s
innovation, first reported in 1904, used X-rays not to kill fungi, but to
produce depilation. The rationale was to remove the nidus
of infection and allow germicides or fungicides easier penetration into hair
follicles. As noted already, depilation was an accepted as an effective
means of treating ringworm; indeed, Aldersmith had written in 1897 that,
In fact, my chief experiments during the last few years have been an
effort to discover something that will always cause disease hairs to
fall out from patches of ringworm, for I fully believe that this
troublesome disease will in time be cured by this method and not by
the discovery of new parasiticides.91
However, attempts to achieve this by chemical and mechanical
means had proved fraught with difficulties, not least because the
inflammation and skin damage meant that the treatment was irritating and
opened the skin to other infections.
The potential of X-rays for the treatment of skin diseases had been explored
from the very beginning of their introduction into medicine in the
mid-1890s. The ability to ‘see’ inside the body excited
contemporaries and has interested historians, but in many hospitals their
main use, along with the Finsen lamp, was for the topical treatment of skin
diseases.92 Around
1900, the potency of X-rays was doubleedged: they could reveal the inner
structure of the body and cure certain diseases, but they could also maim
and kill if too high a dose was given. The most immediate and visible damage
caused by X-rays was to the skin. Indeed, it was this experience that led
doctors to explore their use as counter-irritants, germicides and
fungicides. However, experimental studies quickly showed that X-rays did not
readily destroy bacteria or fungi. Hair loss was noticed after incidental
exposures and X-rays were said to have cosmetic as well as medical
possibilities. Indeed, a report in the Lancet even
suggested that exposure to X-rays might be a more convenient method of
removing a beard than conventional shaving!93 The systematic application of X-rays
for depilation was first reported in 1897 by Leopold Freund, who worked at
the Medizinische Universität Wien.94 He used X-rays for cosmetic procedures,
removing surplus hair and unsightly features, such as hairy moles. The
problem with such work was controlling the dose received by the patient. If
the dose was too large, it could lead to permanent hair loss and skin
damage. There is no evidence of similar experimentation amongst British and
American dermatologists; however, they did keep up with the new applications
developed by doctors in continental Europe.
Freund and Schiff in Vienna were probably the first to try X-rays to treat
ringworm cases, but the treatment was, and still is, identified with
Sabouraud.95 He had
recognised the therapeutic value of depilation and had tried thallium
acetate, otherwise used as a rat poison, but this produced severe
side-effects. X-ray depilation, therefore, promised to be safer.
Sabouraud’s key innovations, which he developed in collaboration
with Henri Noiré and Maurice Pignot, were methods and materials to
control the dosage of X-rays received by patients, which were lower than
with skiagraphs.96 His
first invention was a generator with controllable output that allowed
variation in the intensity of X-rays emitted; the second was developing a
chemical that changed colour on exposure to X-rays in a graded way that
enabled monitoring of the dose a patient received.97 The latter was crucial to avoid
X-ray burns.
The X-ray therapy developed by Sabouraud was cumbersome. It required the
patient to remain very still for up to 40 minutes, which was difficult to
achieve with children, and much more so if many sessions (the contemporary
term was ‘séances’) were required. Sabouraud claimed
that five sessions on different parts of the scalp were safe; most doctors
concurred, though one British doctor wrote that this was
‘criminal’.98 With large areas of infection there were two
problems: first, the convex form of the skull meant that it was difficult to
ensure even exposure; and second, it was imperative to avoid overlapping
exposures that would produce burns or permanent baldness. The clinical
picture reported by Sabouraud was that X-rays produced reddening of the skin
and hair loss in 12–14 days.99 He wrote that once the fungi had been carried
away with the hair, the doctor’s task was to ensure that the treated
areas did not become re-infected, which meant instructing patients on the
conscientious and thorough application of fungicidal lotions. Hair started
to re-grow after six to eight weeks, but did so only slowly, allowing for
the long-term application of fungicidals ( and ).
Photographs of X-ray depilation treatment of ringworm of the
scalp.
British Medical Journal, 1905, ii: 14.
Despite the laborious procedure, X-rays had two advantages when judged
against fungicides alone and other treatments: they brought treatment times
down from years to months and produced permanent cures.100 Sabouraud reported a 100% increase
in his cure rates, including many that had previously been intractable; and
all this reduced costs eightfold, from 2,000 to 260 francs per patient.
In Britain, X-ray treatment was taken up in the outpatient departments of
voluntary hospitals and in some of the new radiotherapy clinics. The first,
very positive results were published in 1905.101 The leading dermatologist, Malcolm
Morris, confidently claimed that X-rays would mark,
the beginning of a new era in the treatment of an affection which has
previously been one of the stumbling blocks of medical practice. It
was fitting that we should owe the means of easy victory over a
peculiarly rebellious disease to the distinguished man [Sabouraud]
who has done so much to dissipate the darkness in which till lately
its origin was enshrouded.102
The number of published reports of success grew. These were
typically of a small number of cases, with doctors cautioning that time was
needed to assess whether the cures were permanent. John MacLeod, physician
at Charing Cross Hospital and the Victoria Hospital for Children, did not
regard X-rays as a panacea.
It is a treatment, however, which is by no means easy; first there
are the difficulties of the technique, second there is the
all-important local treatment with the parasiticide remedies, and,
third, there is the care which is requisite to avoid mishaps
… . The immediate dangers of the treatment … can, as
a rule, be avoided, but with regard to the ultimate dangers, if
there be any, sufficient time has not yet elapsed to disclose them.
It has been suggested that the exposure of the scalp to the rays
might have some harmful effect on the underlying brain. Certainly in
an infant or a child under 3 years of age, where the scalp is thin
and the fontanelles have not closed, one would be timid about
submitting the scalp to the X-rays, but with regard to older
children no misfortune of that nature has, as far as we are aware,
been recorded.104
In fact, British dermatologists struggled to obtain results as
good as those reported by Sabouraud; yet, even a 50% cure rate was regarded
as outstanding compared to other methods.
105 Better results were anticipated once doctors
developed mastery of the equipment and pastilles, and when patient
compliance could be improved
106 (see ).
X-ray apparatus. Suitable for treatment of ringworm and other
cutaneous affections. This figure © 2013
Wellcome Images is used under Creative Commons Attribution
– Non-commercial licence: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/. (more...)
The first systematic use of X-ray treatment in Britain was at the ringworm
schools of the MAB; indeed, their success reportedly improved turnover so
much that the Bridge School at Witham closed in 1908, saving £500
per year, when the remaining children were transferred to the Downs
School.107
Treatment there was directed by Thomas Colcott Fox, with day-to-day matters
in the hands of the school’s medical officer Dr Sale. Within a year
they reported 400 cures.108 The doctors enjoyed access to a large number of
cases and developed facilities for treating many children at once (see ). They were treating
pauper children, who were in triple isolation: in a special institution,
within the Poor Law, and away from parents, hence, there were no problems
with consent, and compliance with young children was largely a matter of
discipline. Colcott Fox and Sale conducted a large ‘trial’,
but as was typical for the time there were no controls. Unsurprisingly, when
they published their results there was no discussion of the ethics of this
‘trial’, only wonder at its success.109 Indeed, the London County
Council’s Board of Education was so impressed that in 1907 it
considered a scheme to provide free X-ray treatment for the
capital’s children at hospitals and special centres.
Radiotherapy room for ringworm. 1905. This figure is used
courtesy of The Royal London Hospital Archives, Wellcome Images,
‘This image is used under Creative Commons
Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/uk/. (more...)
The Board’s scheme was to be part of a larger plan of school medical
inspection and treatment for pupils in elementary schools, that aimed to
deal with a range of health problems: bad teeth, poor vision, suppurating
ears and adenoids, tuberculosis and general debility.111 These ‘conditions’
were seen as threats at three levels: to the long-term health and
educational development of the child; to the efficient operation of schools;
and to the progress of the race. Ringworm was taken up by the school medical
service because they saw it being neglected by general practitioners,
hospitals, public health authorities and parents. Proposals were considered
in 1908 by a sub-Committee of the London County Council (LCC), which had
replaced the MAB, which recommended that school clinics deal only with teeth
defects, eye defects, skin diseases (‘chiefly parasitic, such as,
ringworm, scabies, pediculosis & c.’) and ear defects.112 In 1909, this became
policy and because of the anticipated high demand, ringworm treatment was
contracted out to London voluntary hospitals, with children compelled to
attend if ringworm was identified at school medical inspections.113 Other cities and
large towns introduced similar schemes while outside of urban areas, where
there were fewer or less well-resourced voluntary hospitals, older treatment
regimes persisted.114
The official endorsement of X-ray treatment brought prompt criticism. Dr
Dawson Turner, who worked in the Electrical Department at the Edinburgh
Royal Infirmary and described himself as an ‘old worker with
X-rays’, who had suffered permanent injury from exposures, wrote to
the Times in March 1909, with what turned out to be a
prescient caution.
The deleterious effects of continuous exposures to X-rays in the case
of adults are only too well known to X-ray operators and it is
probable that delicate cells of the growing brain of a child may be
injuriously affected by much short exposures, though the evidence of
impairment of function may not become noticeable until development
is complete. No helpless child should have the chief centre of its
nervous system exposed to the X-rays without the express consent of
its parent, obtained after the possible risks of the treatment have
been fully explained.115
His plea was answered in a report by two directors of London
hospital electro-therapeutic departments. They stated that ordinary
precautions had ensured no ill effects in their patients, nor did they
expect any from other controlled uses of X-rays.
116 However, the use of X-rays was
resisted by some parents, though this was as much about distrust of
hospitals and dislike of compulsion, as it was about worries over radiation.
Mr Harris, a jeweller from Rotherhithe, on being instructed to take his
daughter to Guy’s Hospital, wrote back to the LCC’s Child
Care Branch stating he did not have ‘much faith in those
places’ and that his wife, who was a trained nurse, was treating the
child.
117 Walter
Longley asserted his independence in similar vein, saying that his boys were
already being treated with sassafras oil and that his family would not
trouble the LCC, nor the London ratepayer.
118 Henry Carter wrote that the
instruction to take his children to the Evelina Hospital was
‘insulting to my wife and self’.
119Armed with X-rays and with the backing of the LCC administration,
dermatologists and school medical offices were optimistic about the future
control of ringworm.120 Nonetheless, in 1909, the Lancet
set up an enquiry to address ‘the grave prevalence’ and
‘the disastrous influence’ ringworm was having on the
education of children.121 The Lancet Commission on
Ringworm, consisting of ‘two thoroughly competent
dermatologists’ (who remained anonymous), reported on 1 January
1910. They dealt almost exclusively with the situation in London.122 The authors opened
in eugenic terms, stating that ringworm was more prevalent in the
‘less educated classes’ and that those affected were
‘really representatives of lower grades of civilisation’,
where infestation with internal and external parasites was a marker of being
left behind by social progress. The authors endorsed X-ray treatment
administered by dermatologists and radiotherapists, along with a positive
assessment of the capacity of existing facilities to cope with the scheme of
mass treatment that the LCC was contemplating. However, they were ambivalent
about whether to use voluntary and local authority hospitals, or to
recommend the creation of special treatment centres, but whatever was
decided they were certain it would be cost-effective.
The Commission’s report took seriously public concerns about the
safety of X-rays, noting that in early years there had been accidents
leading to permanent baldness and ulcers. However, burns were said to be a
thing of the past as exposures were now well managed. With regard to brain
damage, the authors wrote that the experience of thousands of cases, over
many years, showed no evidence of any effects and that ‘It is
incumbent now on those who imagine that harm does follow the application of
X-rays to produce the grounds for the view.’123 Against this backdrop, many
parents allowed their children to be treated with X-rays but, as mentioned
above, others refused. The manufacturers of popular alternatives, especially
antiseptic creams like ‘Germolene’ and
‘Zambuk’ – ‘The Balm that Benefits the
Bairns’, also offered their products as direct alternatives to
X-rays.124
However, some medical officers raised the stakes. For example, Dr Bostock
Hill, the Medical Officer of Health for Warwickshire, claimed in 1911 that
he instructed parents that ‘they would be dealt with under the
Children’s Act for cruelty … or the case would be referred
to the N.S.P.C.C’ [National Society for the Protection of Children],
if they refused to allow their children to be treated.125
Ernest Dore, a dermatologist at the Evelina Hospital for Sick Children, made
a telling observation in his review of X-ray treatment in 1911, a year after
the publication of the Lancet Commission report.126 He returned to the
issue of stigma, arguing that before X-ray treatments a diagnosis of
ringworm was far worse than any physical suffering.
A trivial complaint as regards the health of the child, tinea
tonsurans brings in its train so long a category of ills that I have
more than once heard long-suffering mothers say that they dreaded
scarlet fever or pneumonia less. The disorganisation of the home
that ensues from the isolation of the sufferers; the anxiety of the
parents lest other children in the family should become infected;
the complications with medical men and schoolmasters; the social
ostracism; the loss of schooling; the wearisome process of
constantly rubbing on ointments with little apparent result except
the production of sore heads in the children and sore hearts in the
parents, these are some of the difficulties which have to be faced
under the old régime.127
Given the reactions of children, family, friends, neighbours,
teachers and doctors to ringworm, and its position as a marker of
‘low civilisation’ and social danger, it is clear why a
disease that never killed or caused permanent injury attracted such
high-profile medical and public attention. Indeed, Dore wanted to up the
stakes further, hinting at the possibility of stamping out the disease if
compulsion was used: either in prevention, ‘such as the wearing of
some kind of head gear, like the muzzle in the prophylaxis of
rabies’, or with X-ray treatment.
A national picture of ringworm in school children was represented in the
Reports of the Medical Officer to the Board of Education, Dr George Newman;
the first of which was for 1908.128 The prevalence of ringworm was around 1%
amongst children inspected in school, much lower than other
‘defects’, which were: vision (10%), hearing (3–5%),
adenoids and enlarged tonsils (6–8%), tooth decay (40%) and unclean
bodies or heads (30–40%).129 The main issue with ringworm was exclusion
and its effects on a child’s education; plus, from an administrative
perspective, the impact of long absences on a school’s grant income.
Although prevalence was low, it still meant that, on average, 3,000 children
were absent every day, with a typical absence duration of nine weeks.130 Nationally, the
longest average exclusion reported of 29 weeks was in Somerset. This finding
was seen as surprising for a rural county with few large towns and low
population density, and was attributed to poor inspection regimes causing
early cases to be missed. Although impetigo, by this time associated with
Staphylococcus aureus infection, was the most prevalent
skin disease found in inspections, ringworm was taken much more
seriously.131 Dr
Ritchie, the School Medical Officer for Manchester, reported that
inspections in 1913 had revealed the following: impetigo – 353,
ringworm – 187, scabies – 39 and other skin diseases
– 110.132
However, cases reported by doctors and parents led to 2,003 notifications of
ringworm in the city, with up to 1,500 children under supervision at any
time. The Manchester containment regime was strict, ‘… no
cases of ringworm of the scalp are allowed to attend school unless the hair
over and around the patches is cut and a washable cap worn … .
Children affected with ringworm of the body are not allowed to attend
school.’133 In the same year, a ringworm school was
established in Edinburgh for long-term absentees, including one boy who
allegedly had been excluded for four years.134
In his annual reports, Newman began to report improvements, particularly in
areas where X-ray treatment was available. In London, new cases fell from
5,573 in 1913 to 4,449 a year later, while in Beckenham in Kent, new cases
had fallen from 133 in 1911 to just 48 in 1914.135 However, nationally, the provision
of special services was patchy. Only one third of education authorities had
made special provision for ringworm treatment and in many areas, especially
outside of cities and large towns, there was still no access to X-ray
treatment at all. In addition, many general practitioners chose to continue
to recommend topical fungicides and left treatment to
‘unreliable’ parents.136
The decline of ringworm
In Britain, doctors reported that the incidence of ringworm of the scalp
in school children fell during the First World War, but increased
afterwards because of the shortage of school nurses, many of whom
continued to work with casualties and invalids.137 However, this was a minor peak
as the incidence fell steadily over the inter-war period. In London, the
number of new cases had reduced from 6,214 in 1911, to 3,983 in 1920.
The number dropped further, to 513 in 1930 and by 1936 they was just
89.138 As
early as 1925, the district medical officer for Beckenham reported no
new cases, while in Ilford, ringworm was also said to have been
‘abolished’.139 In his 26th and final report, for the
year 1933, George Newman observed with satisfaction that
‘Ringworm is steadily disappearing.’140 This situation was reflected
in treatment facilities, the number of which was reduced from 150
clinics in 1923 to 80 in 1938. The London ringworm school, which had
moved to the Goldie Leigh Cottage Children’s Homes, Woolwich, in
1914, took fewer and fewer residential cases, and became instead a
centre for day treatment with X-rays.141
Doctors attributed the decline in the reported incidence of ringworm, in
the words of Norman Walker in 1929, not so much to the character of the
infection, but to ‘the value of cooperation between the
scientist, the clinician, and the organiser’.142 Success was said to have come
from school inspection spotting early cases, which were followed up by
effective treatments such as X-rays. The provision and use of X-rays was
variable across the country. In the early 1930s only 20% of diagnosed
cases in England were receiving X-rays. The rates of use varied: London
was the highest and rural counties were several times lower143 ().
Cases of ringworm in England and Wales treated by X-ray
or other methods, 1933.
Chemical and mechanical methods of depilation continued to be used and
there was particular interest again in the 1930s in giving thallium
acetate.144
Some doctors, particularly in the United States, argued that thallium
treatment was safer than X-rays; however, critics termed it ‘A
Dangerous Drug’ because the margin between achieving effective
epilation and poisoning was very small.145 During the inter-war period,
dermatologists on both sides of the Atlantic showed less interest in
ringworm of the scalp, reflecting lower incidence and relatively stable
therapeutic regimes.146 Their new areas of interest were ringworm in
athletes, college students, soldiers and miners.
Ringworm, although no doubt a common human infection for centuries, only
gained serious medical and public attention in the second half of the
nineteenth century, and then in a specific social group and setting:
school children and schooling. The aggregation of children in crowded
classrooms for hours at a time seemed to provide ideal conditions for
contagion. None the less, it was as a social rather than physical
disease that ringworm gained medical and public attention. Ringworm
epidemics were one of the unintended consequences of the progressive
reform of mass schooling, which revealed changing social attitudes to
markers of disease and the growing stigmatisation of the palpably
‘unclean’. While historians such as Nancy Tomes have
detailed public responses to the threat of invisible germs, we have
revealed the reactions, some similar and others unique, to conditions
where the germs were highly visible. Perhaps, the ‘gospel of
germs’ won converts more readily for diseases such as ringworm,
favus and trachoma, where the physical and social manifestations of
infection were obvious and reinforcing.
From 1905, ringworm was also seen as a pathology that could be remedied
by medical progress, and not just any new technology, but by the medical
icon of the age, X-rays. The use of X-ray depilation was an innovation
that was taken up rapidly, in large measure because it promised so much,
but also because the necessary equipment was becoming more readily
available and there were opportunities for clinical and organisational
innovations. In Britain, major public bodies such as the LCC, having
been persuaded to create special ringworm institutions, subsequently
invested in the new technologies of treatment. This all seemed to pay
off, as the reported incidence of ringworm of the scalp in children
declined rapidly in the inter-war period.147 There was debate about the
causes of the fall. Was it due to medical inspection regimes and new
treatments, or to social factors, such as more bathrooms, better
medicated shampoos, the fashion for shorter hair and grooming with hair
creams? ‘Brylcreem’ was introduced in 1928 and marketed
for better ‘bounce’ in styling and control of dandruff,
then said to be caused by a yeast fungus Pityrosporon.
Whatever the specific reasons, all factors responsible for the decline
were seen by contemporary commentators to be due to medical and social
progress.
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Pusey, W. A., The History of Dermatology, Springfield,
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On Plumbe see, Rosenthal, T., ‘Samuel Plumbe’,
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Plumbe, S., ‘History, Pathology and Treatment, of Ring-worm and
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Plumbe, ‘History, Pathology’, 928.
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Erichsen, J. E., The Science and Art of Surgery, London,
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Russell, B. F., ed, St John’s Hospital for Diseases of
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Lancet, 1864, ii: 538. The three supporters withdrew
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Hadley, R. M., ‘The Life and Works of Sir William James Erasmus
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Quoted in Hogg, J., Parasitic or Germ Theory of Disease: The
Skin, Eye, and Other Affections, London, Baillière,
Tindall and Cox, 1876,
33.
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October 2008; Anon, ‘Thomas McCall Anderson, Obituary’,
Lancet, 1908, i: 468–471.
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Tilbury Fox, G., Skin Diseases of Parasitic Origin,
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Parasitic Diseases of the Surface’, Lancet,
1859, ii: 5–7,
31–32, 201, 260–261, 283–284 and
507–508; M’Call Anderson, T., On the Parasitic
Affections of the Skin, London, Churchill, 1861.
- 33
Tilbury Fox, Skin Diseases, v–vi; Anderson,
On the Parasitic Affections, 1–2.
- 34
Hogg, J., ‘The Vegetable Parasites of the Human Skin’,
BMJ, 1859, i: 241; Hillier, T., ‘On Ringworm and
Vegetable Parasites’, BMJ, 1861, ii: 552 and 577;
Worboys, M., Spreading Germs: Disease Theories and Medical
Practice in Britain, 1865–1900, Cambridge, Cambridge
University Press, 2000,
73–107.
- 35
Wilks, S., ‘Address in Medicine’, BMJ,
1872, ii:
146–153.
- 36
- 37
Colan, T., ‘Parasitic Vegetable Fungi and the Diseases Induced by
Them’, Lancet, 1874, ii: 755–757 and
832–833.
- 38
Liveing, R., ‘Lecture on the Peculiarities of Ringworm and its
Treatment’, Lancet, 1879, ii: 642–644, on
643–644.
- 39
Worboys, Spreading Germs, Passim;
M’Call Anderson, T., ‘Introductory Lectures to the Study
of the Diseases of the Skin’, Lancet, 1870, i: 149–151.
- 40
Lancet, 1861, ii: 449–450.
- 41
Pelling, M., Cholera, Fever and English Medicine, 1830–1865, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1976, 146–202.
- 42
Tilbury Fox, W., ‘On the Identity of Parasitic Fungi Affecting
the Human Surface’, Lancet, 1880, ii: 260–261;
Lancet, 1867, ii: 266–267.
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- 44
Stark, J., Industrial Illness in Cultural Context: ‘La
maladie de Bradford’ in Local, National and Global Settings,
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University of Leeds, 2011;
Jamieson, A., An Intolerable Affliction: A History of Lupus
vulgaris in Late 19th and Early 20th Century Britain,
Unpublished PhD Thesis, University of Leeds, 2010.
- 45
British Association of Dermatologists, A Biographical History of
British Dermatology, London, British Association of
Dermatologists, 1995.
- 46
Tilbury Fox, W., ‘Ringworm in Schools’,
Lancet, 1872, i: 5–6.
- 47
Hirst, J. D., ‘Public Health and the Public Elementary Schools,
1870–1907’, History of
Education, 1991, 20: 107–118.
- 48
Harris, B., The Health of the Schoolchild: A History of the
School Medical Service in England and Wales, Buckingham,
Open University Press, 1995,
32–47.
- 49
‘Report of the Lancet Sanitary Commission on the Sanitary
Condition of our Public Schools’, Lancet, 1875, i: 795–796,
859–861 and ii: 111–112, 314–315,
422–423, 574–575, 682, and 785–787.
- 50
See the case of George Beavis who in November 1875 was fined for
neglecting to send his daughter to school. Hansard, HC Deb 11 February
1876, 227: 227–229; Times, 3 February 1876, 5c;
9 March 1876, 6e.
- 51
Liveing, ‘Lecture on the Peculiarities’,
643–644.
- 52
Mansell, K., Christ’s Hospital in the Victorian
Era, Whitton, Ashwater Press, 2011.
- 53
Alder Smith, H., Ringworm: Its Diagnosis and Treatment,
London, H. K. Lewis & Co. Ltd, 1880; 2nd Edition, 1882; 3rd Edition, 1885; Aldersmith, H., Ringworm and Alopecia
Areata, 4th Edition, London, H. K. Lewis & Co. Ltd,
1897.
- 54
Tilbury Fox, W., ‘On Ringworm of the Head and its
Management’, Lancet, 1877, ii: 643–644.
- 55
Alder Smith, Ringworm, 1882, vii.
- 56
Many general patent medicines included ringworm as one of the conditions
they cured. Specifically, the most widely advertised topical remedies
were Beatson’s Ringworm Lotion, Bateson’s Specific and
Cuticura Soap. Holloway’s Ointment was advised to be used in
conjunction with Holloway’s Pills, and those seeking a systemic
cure could try was Orange’s Universal Cerate and Vegetable
Purifying Pills.
- 57
Manchester Times, 2 February 1889, 2 and 9 February
1889, 8.
- 58
Morning Post, 10 May 1889, 4; Reynolds’s
Newspaper, 26 May 1889, 1.
- 59
Worboys, Spreading Germs, 234–276.
- 60
Newson Kerr, M., Fevered Metropolis: Epidemic Disease and
Isolation in Victorian London, Unpublished PhD Thesis,
University of Southern California, 2007; Harris, The Health of the
Schoolchild, passim.
- 61
- 62
‘Dr Payne’s Report on Ringworm’, 1891, London
Metropolitan Archives (LMA) MA, NSSD/79.
- 63
‘Dr Eddowes Report on Anerley School’, 27 May 1893, LMA, NSSD 80.
- 64
Ibid., 30 December 1893. It was likely he used an ointment based on
chrysophanic acid, ichthyol and salicylic acid. Eddowes, A.,
‘Treatment of Ringworm’, BMJ, 1893, i: 785–786.
- 65
Abraham, P. S. and Eddowes, A., ‘Contagious Skin Diseases in
Schools’, Lancet, 1894, ii: 275.
- 66
Morris, M., ‘Ringworm in Elementary Schools’,
Lancet, 1891, ii: 348.
- 67
Anon, ‘Enlargement of Functions of the Metropolitan Asylums
Board’, Lancet, 1897, i: 1483.
- 68
Baxter Forman, E., ‘A Lecture on Medical London’,
Lancet, 1899, i: 213.
- 69
Downs School Sub Committee Minutes, 1903, LMA, MAB-5–17,
MAB/0509, Sub-Committee Minute Book, pp. 43–44 and 61.
- 70
Anon, ‘Ringworm and the Metropolitan Asylums Board’,
Lancet, 1904, i: 318–319. Also see:
Admission and Discharge Registers, 1903–1906, LMA,
MAB-22–8, MAB/2326, p. 1, 54, 64, 93 and 133. The first four
children admitted on26 February 1903 were typical, staying respectively
26, 17, 13 and 8 months.
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Abraham and Eddowes, ‘Contagious’, 275.
- 72
- 73
Morris, Ringworm, 1898, 69.
- 74
Brown, Ringworm and Other Scalp Affections,
1–3.
- 75
Tilles and Tilles, Teignes et Teigneux,
85–99.
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Sabouraud, R., Les Trichophyties humaines, Paris, Rueff
and Cie, 1894.
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Civatte, A., ‘Obituary: Raymond Sabouraud’, Br J
Dermatol, 50, 1938: 206–210.
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Sabouraud, R., ‘La Question des Teignes (Au Congress de
Londres)’ Annales de dermatologie et
syphiligraph, 1896, 7: 1333–1357. Also see: Morris, M.,
Ringworm in the Light of Recent Research, London,
Cassell and Co., 1898, v;
Editorial, ‘The Parasites of Ringworm’,
Lancet, 1893, i: 1204.
- 79
Aldersmith, Ringworm, 1897, 6.
- 80
Colcott Fox, T. and Blaxall, F. R., ‘An Enquiry into the
Plurality of Fungi Causing Ringworm in Human Beings, as Met with in
London’, Br J Dermatol, 1896, 8: 241; Roberts, L., ‘The
Present Position of the Question of Vegetable Hair Parasites’,
BMJ, ii: 1894, 685–688.
- 81
Sabouraud, R., ‘X-ray Treatment of Tinea tonsurans’,
International Clinics, 1904, 2, 41–49; Sabouraud, R. et al,
‘La Radiotherapie die teignes a l’ecole Lallier en
1904’, Bulletin de la Société
française de dermatologie et de syphiligraphie,
1905, 16: 10. Also see:
Sabouraud, R., Maladies Cryptogamiques, Les Teigne,
Paris, Masson & Cie, 1910; Tilles and Tilles, Teignes et
Teigneux, 100–106.
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- 83
However, see: Shoemaker, J. V., ‘Ringworm in Public
Institutions’, Trans Am Med Assoc, 1878, 29: 139–147.
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Pulliam, J. D. and van Patten, J. J., History of Education in
America, New York, Pearson, 2006.
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Turner, J. P., Ringworm and Its Successful Treatment,
Philadelphia, F. A. Davis, 1921; Burnett, J. C., Ringworm: Its Constitutional
Nature and Cure, Philadelphia, Boericke & Tafel, 1892.
- 86
Kraut, A. M., Silent Travelers: Germs, Genes, and the Immigrant
Menace, New York, Basic Books, 1994, 58–67; Allen, S. K. and Semba, R.
D., ‘The Trachoma “Menace” in the United States,
1897–1960’, Surv Ophthalmol,
2002, 47(5): 500–599.
- 87
Markel, H., ‘ “The Eyes Have It”: Trachoma, the
Perception of Disease, the United States Public Health Service, and the
American Jewish Immigration Experience, 1897–1924’, Bulletin
of the History of Medicine, 2000, 74: 525–560.
- 88
Buckley, A. M., ‘The X-ray Treatment of Ringworm of the
Scalp’, JAMA, 1913, 56: 1766.
- 89
Bunch, J. L., ‘Sabouraud’s Method of Ringworm
Treatment’, Lancet, 1905, i: 414–416.
- 90
Natale, S., ‘The Invisible Made Visible: X-rays as Attraction and
Visual Medium at the End of the Nineteenth Century’,
Media History, 2011, 17(4): 345–358; Pamboukian, S., ‘
“Looking Radiant”: Science, Photography and the X-ray
Craze of 1896’,
Victorian Review, 2001, 27(2): 56–74.
- 91
Aldersmith, Ringworm, 1897, 296.
- 92
Walsh, D., The Roentgen Rays in Medical Work: With an
Introductory Section upon Electrical Apparatus and Methods by J. E.
Greenhill, London, Baillière & Co., 1897.
- 93
Anon, ‘ “X” Rays as Depilatory’,
Lancet, 1896, i: 1296; Daniel, J., ‘Depilatory Action of
X-rays’, Medical Records, 1896, 49: 595–596.
- 94
Report, ‘The Roentgen Rays as a Depilatory’,
Lancet, 1897, i: 752; Freund, L., ‘Ein mit
Röntgen-Strahlen behandelter Fall von Naevus pigmentosus
piliferus’, Wiener Medizinische Wochenschrift,
1897, 47:
428–434; idem, ‘Nachtrag zu dem Artikel ‘Ein mit
Röntgen-Strahlen behandelter Fall von Naevus pigmentosus
piliferus’, Wiener Medizinische Wochenschrift,
1897, 47:
856–860; Report, ‘Depilation by High-Tension Electric
Currents’, Lancet, 1901, i: 121; Walsh, D., ‘The Removal
of Superfluous Hair by a Combination of X-ray Exposure and
Electrolysis’, Lancet, 1901, ii: 1191–1192.
- 95
Pusey, W. A., ‘Roentgen-ray Therapy Twenty Years Ago’,
JAMA, 1923, 81(15): 1257–1260.
- 96
Pignot, M. M., ‘Souvenir sur Raimond Jacques Sabouraud 1864–1938’,
Mycopathologia, 1954, 7: 348–364.
- 97
Guido Holzknecht, an Austrian physician, had pioneered the use of
chemical monitoring in the 1890s, placing mixtures that were sensitive
to radiation in pastilles between the generator and the patient. Doctors
calibrated tissue damage against dosage as revealed by colour changes,
largely by trial and error. Holzknecht created a unit
‘H’ (from his own initial) and an
‘H-scale’ which allowed doctors to quantify the
alteration in the ‘tint’ of pastilles by comparison with
a painted colour chart. However, he kept the formula of his pastilles
secret; hence, they were expensive and supplies were limited. Sabouraud
introduced a cheaper method using barium platino-cyanide, which was the
standard chemical used on X-ray plates before they were fixed
photographically. These pastilles were not only cheaper, they could be
reused as they returned to their original colour after exposure.
Sabouraud set out detailed specifications of the distance between
machine and patient, the protection of surrounding skin, generator
settings, the position of the pastille and the required degree of colour
change. For Holzknecht, see: Angetter, D. C., Guido Holzknecht:
Leben und Werk des österreichischen Pioniers der
Röntgenologie, Wien, Werner Eichbauer, 1998. For
more, also see: Paul, W., ‘A History of Radiation Detection
Instrumentation’, Health Physics, 2005, 88(6):
616; Sabouraud R. and Noiré, H., ‘Traitement des teignes
tondantes par les rayons X’, La Presse
Mèdicale, 1904: 12: 825–827.
- 98
Walker, N., ‘X-rays in the Treatment of Tinea’,
BMJ, 1904, i: 868.
- 99
Adamson, H. G., ‘On the Treatment of Ringworm of the Scalp by
Means of X-rays’, Lancet, 1905, i: 1715.
- 100
Bunch, ‘Sabouraud’s Method’, 416.
- 101
Morris, M., ‘The Harveian Lecture on Some New Therapeutic Methods
in Dermatology’, BMJ, 1905, i: 699.
- 102
- 103
MacLeod, J. M. H., ‘The Treatment of the Scalp by
X-rays’, BMJ, 1905, ii: 14.
- 104
MacLeod, J. H. M., ‘The Treatment of Ringworm of the Scalp by
X-rays’, BMJ, 1905, ii: 13–15. Also see: Higham
Cooper, R., ‘The Supposed Risks Attending X-ray Treatment of
Ringworm’, BMJ, 1909, ii: 454–457.
- 105
Sichel, G., ‘The X-ray Treatment of Ringworm’,
BMJ, 1906, i: 256–257. Also see: Sequeira, J. H.,
‘The Varieties of Ringworm and Their Treatment’,
BMJ, 1906, ii: 193–196.
- 106
See letters in response to Sichel’s article in:
BMJ, 1906, i, 359–360, 419–420, 539–540,
840 and 1018–1020.
- 107
LMA, Children’s Committee Report for 1905, Metropolitan Asylums
Board; Ayers, G. M., England’s First State Hospitals and
the Metropolitan Asylums Board, 187–1930, London,
Wellcome Institute, 1971,
171–175 and 207.
- 108
Report, ‘The Metropolitan Asylums Board’,
BMJ, 1907, i: 1314.
- 109
Bulkley, L. D., ‘The X-ray Treatment of Ringworm of the
Scalp’, JAMA, 1911, 56: 1706–1709.
- 110
Macleod, J. H. M., Diseases of the Skin: A Text-book for Students
and Practitioners, London, H. K. Lewis, London, 1920.
- 111
Report, ‘Children’s Committee, Metropolitan Asylums
Board’, BMJ, 1907, i: 1314.
- 112
Times, 9 December 1908, 6c.
- 113
Prior, J. R., ‘X-ray Treatment of Ringworm’,
Public Health, 1910–1911, 24: 153–154.
- 114
Adam, T., ‘The Control of Ringworm in School’,
Public Health, 1912–1913, 26: 3–8; Bernard Shaw, A. F.,
‘The Diagnosis of Ringworm in School Children’,
Public Health, 1912–1913, 26: 366–369.
- 115
Times, 31 March 1909, 12d.
- 116
Times, 1 April 1909, 18e.
- 117
Letter H. M. Harris, 18 March 1910, LMA, PH/SHS/2/9.
- 118
Letter from Walter Longley, 8 April 1910, LMA, PH/SHS/2/9.
- 119
Letter from Henry Carter, 29 May 1910, LMA, PH/SHS/2/9.
- 120
Cates, J., ‘The Administrative Control of Ringworm’,
Public Health, 1910–1911, 24: 226–233.
- 121
On the continuing controversies about the treatment see: Anon,
‘Favus and Ringworm among Schoolchildren’,
Lancet, i: 1909: 1636.
- 122
Anon, ‘The Lancet Commission of Ringworm: Its Prevalence,
Influence and Treatment’, Lancet, 1910, i:
51–56.
- 123
- 124
Daily Mirror, 5 November 1901, 16; 8 February 1912,
15c-d; 7 December 1922 14 a–b.
- 125
Reported in Cates, ‘The Administrative Control’, 232.
- 126
Ernest Dore, S., ‘The Present Position of the X-ray Treatment of
Ringworm’, Lancet, 1911, i: 432.
- 127
- 128
Annual Report for 1908 of the Chief Medical Officer of the Board
of Education, BPP, 1910, Cd. 4986, XXIII:
55–57.
- 129
‘The Health of School Children’, Times,
30 October 1911: 11a.
- 130
- 131
Payne, J. F., ‘An Address on Bacteria in Diseases of the
Skin’, Lancet, 1896, ii: 2–3.
- 132
- 133
‘Manchester and District’, BMJ, 1913,
ii: 205.
- 134
Walker, N., ‘Fifty Years of Dermatology’,
Lancet, 1929, ii: 212.
- 135
- 136
Adam, ‘The Control of Ringworm’, 3–8; Bernard
Shaw, ‘The Diagnosis of Ringworm’, 366–369.
- 137
Report, ‘Medicine in the Schools’, BMJ,
1920, 2: 826.
- 138
Report, ‘School Health in London in 1934’, Public
Health, 1935, 48(12): 403; The Health of the School
Child: Annual Report of the Chief Medical Officer of the Board of
Education, 1937, London, HMSO, 1938, 87–88.
- 139
Between 1922 and 1931 2,426 cases were treated there, only 200 or so per
year. The Health of the School Child: The Annual Report of the
Chief Medical Officer of the Board of Education for 1925’,
London, HMSO, 1926, 41.
- 140
The Health of the School Child: The Annual Report of the Chief
Medical Officer of the Board of Education for 1933, London, HMSO, 1934, 9.
- 141
Cochrane Shanks, S., ‘Vale Epilation: X-ray Epilation of the
Scalp at Goldie Leigh Hospital, Woolwich (1922–1958)’,
Br J Dermatol, 19, 79(4): 237–238.
- 142
Walker, ‘Fifty Years’, 211.
- 143
The Health of the School Child, 1933, 86.
- 144
Walker, ‘Fifty Years’, 211; Percival, G. H., ‘The
Treatment of Ringworm of the Scalp with Thallium Acetate’,
Br J Dermat, 1930, 42(2): 59–69.
- 145
Editorial, ‘Thallium: A Dangerous Drug’, N Engl J
Med, 1931, 204:
1117; Lewis, D. R. and Lloyd, A. W., ‘Treatment of Ringworm of
the Scalp with Thallium Acetate’, BMJ, 1933, ii: 99–100.
- 146
The Health of the School Child: The Annual
Report of the Chief Medical Officer of the Board of Education for
1938,
London, HMSO, 1939. Also
see: Barber, H. W., ‘The Relationship of Dermatology to General
Medicine’, Lancet, 1929, ii: 363–370, 483–492 and
591–599.
- 147
Underwood, E. A., ‘National Health and Physical Fitness’,
Public Health, 1937–1938, 51: 328–333.