It is rare to get a glimpse of the work of a medical practitioner a century or more ago. However the Essex Standard of 2 July 1875 provides a brief glimpse of Frank Dobson Potter's work in the previous month. Potter lived and practiced from Greylands in the High Street, a house that was built for him, complete with a consulting room and a side door for patient access, an integral part of the architect's design.
Potter was called to Ongar police station late in the evening of 14 June to examine a young man who had been found unconscious in a field between Chipping and High Ongar. The patient, John Butcher, had been working that day as a labourer on Castle Farm, carting and stacking tares, and had had an altercation with two fellow workers.
This had led to a violent assault after work when the three men were walking together over the fields to High Ongar. This was witnessed by two individuals who later gave evidence at the trial. Butcher did not recover consciousness, and died early the next morning, presumably still in the police station. Potter then conducted the post mortem examination which showed extensive fractures of the skull with massive bleeding in the brain itself. He was closely questioned by the coroner at the subsequent inquest, but was firmly of the opinion that such extensive injuries could only have been caused by a blow or blows to the head with a heavy object. He was dismissive of the suggestion that they could have been caused by an accidental fall.
The coroner's verdict does not seem to have been recorded by the Essex Standard. However Butcher's assailants were committed to the Assizes on a murder charge, convicted of manslaughter and imprisoned in Pentonville within 6 weeks of the event. Justice moved swiftly in those days.
At about the same time, Richard Moore, Captain Budworth's coachman and gamekeeper, was doing his evening rounds, looking for vermin and armed with a shotgun. William Flack of Stanford Rivers, who had been working at New Barns Farm, Bobbingworth, was walking home via Greensted and – for a reason never explained in the later court appearance – was crouching in a ditch. It was dusk and, in the half light, Moore mistook Flack's partly visible white jacket for a white cat in search of rabbits. He discharged his gun, his aim was good and he hit Flack in the face and arm. Captain Budworth was immediately informed and arrived on the scene with brandy and lint. Potter was then summoned and, after examining the unfortunate victim, had him removed to his house for treatment.
Captain Budworth followed soon after, equipped with more brandy and a supply of paper to enable him to take down a deposition in case the injuries were to prove fatal. However, Potter reassured him that the victim was likely to recover. The unfortunate coachman was taken before the Ongar magistrates, and remanded on bail of £70 (to which Captain Budworth contributed £20). There were no further reports in the Essex Standard, so presumably Flack recovered and Moore was eventually exonerated.
Today all this would have happened in hospital, including the post mortem. However a medical practitioner at that time (and well into the twentieth century in rural areas) had to be almost entirely self-sufficient, and it is often forgotten that this included performing post mortem examinations, usually in highly unsuitable premises such as barns or stables. It was also the duty of the jury at the coroner's inquest to view the body before reaching their verdict, which could be a disturbing experience in the case of a violent death.
On a lighter note, Captain Budworth must have taken a leaf out of the book of Sherlock Holmes' companion, Dr Watson. A colleague of mine combed Conan Doyle's stories to note when and how often Dr Watson administered brandy as a medication, and concluded that he had been very fortunate not to be arraigned before the General Medical Council for excessive and inappropriate treatment!