The Funny Side of Physic Or, The Mysteries of Medicine, Presenting the Humorous and Serious Sides of Medical Practice. An Exposé of Medical Humbugs, Quacks, and Charlatans — A Closer Reading

Anecdotes as Evidence

Crabtre relies almost entirely on anecdote rather than systematic argument. The excerpts show a pattern: each story opens with a named physician or quack, a striking circumstance, and a punchline or moral. The tale of Coythier, who bluffs his way out of execution by claiming occult knowledge of the king's death, is typical. The narrative voice is wry and omniscient, often interrupting to underline the irony. This structure allows Crabtre to cover vast historical ground—from ancient Greece to nineteenth-century London—without sustained analysis. The reader is invited to draw their own conclusions from the parade of examples.

The Fee as Plot Device

Money—especially the size and oddity of medical fees—recurs as a motif. Crabtre devotes distinct subsections to “A Long Fee,” “A Short Fee,” and “Odd Fees.” The longest fee is the grant of trading privileges that launched British commerce in Bengal; the shortest is the unpaid fee promised to Dr. King for bleeding Charles II. Sir Astley Cooper’s “night-cap fee” anecdote illustrates the precarious finances of early practice. These stories serve a dual purpose: they entertain with numerical curiosities, and they expose the economic realities behind the physician’s prestige.

The Quack and the True Physician

Crabtre’s preface draws a sharp moral line: “There is no better man in the world than the true physician, and no more base wretch than the ordinary ‘Quack.’” The excerpts, however, show that the line is often blurred. Royal physicians use flattery and fear to maintain their positions; the “quack” is defined less by lack of skill than by greed and deception. The book’s subtitle promises an exposé of “medical humbugs” in all ages, and the anecdotes consistently punish the fraudulent while rewarding the competent—though the rewards are often ironic, as when a fee is promised but never paid.

Movement Between Courts and Streets

The settings shift rapidly from the court of Shah Jehan to the bedside of Charles II, from a Parisian executioner’s chamber to a London surgeon’s early practice. This geographical and social range reinforces Crabtre’s claim that quackery is universal. The movement is not random: each scene is chosen for its dramatic potential. The reader is carried from one vivid tableau to the next, with little connective tissue. This episodic structure suits the book’s stated aim of mingling “the lively and gay with the sedate spirit,” but it also means that deeper analysis of medical practice is sacrificed for narrative momentum.

Readers approaching The Funny Side of Physic should expect a collection of loosely linked vignettes rather than a continuous history. The book rewards those who enjoy piquant details and moral irony. Crabtre’s indignation at quackery is genuine, but his method is anecdotal, not analytical. The work is best sampled in short sittings, letting each story stand on its own.

I’ve spent many evenings with the old physicians in The Funny Side of Physic, especially Doctor Crabtre’s gentle fury at those who prey on suffering. It makes me think of the other volume waiting nearby, the Text book of veterinary medicine, Volume 4 (of 5) — A Closer Reading, where honesty wears a plainer coat. Both books know that trust, once broken by a lie, is hard to mend.