In September 2026, a medical historian discovered a letter written by Jane Butt on September 23, 1834, while researching in Yale's medical library. The document, published in the London journal Medical Dissenter, details a measles outbreak in the village of Broughton where Butt lived. She reported that her own child and 36 others in the community contracted the disease, with some suffering severe lung inflammation. Despite attributing the severity to a cold east wind, she noted that all patients recovered after taking Morison's pills, a purgative promoted by merchant James Morison who lacked medical training.
Butt administered these pills frequently, sometimes giving up to six at once to a toddler under two years old, and also dosed women and newborns. The pills were sold by the journal itself, which served as an official depot for Morison's products in London by 1837. The publication was part of the Hygeist movement, which criticized professional physicians as a monopoly that harmed patients through practices like bloodletting. At the time, women were excluded from medical training and displaced as midwives, leaving them without professional authority. Butt wrote her letter to counter public prejudice against Morison's medicine, utilizing the platform provided by this fringe movement.
The historian noted that reading Butt's account coincided with a resurgence of measles in Pennsylvania, where six deaths had been reported in 2026. The United States recorded over 4,500 measles cases that year, the highest number since 1991. Vaccine coverage for kindergartners had dropped to 92.4%, below the threshold needed to prevent outbreaks, with exemption rates reaching a record 4.2% in some areas. This modern context shifted the historian's perspective on the historical document, revealing that ordinary people have long participated in health discourse, even when their methods were flawed.
The article draws a parallel between Butt's era and the current Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) movement. MAHA is described as being largely composed of women who followed Robert F. Kennedy Jr., capitalizing on grievances regarding how medical authority has historically dismissed female caregivers. The historian argues that while Butt's reliance on purgatives was ineffective, her act of counting cases represented an early form of empiricism. She documented the spread of illness from house to house, a method similar to what physicians and military officials used during epidemics in the 19th century.
However, Butt's conclusion that the pills caused recovery was flawed because she did not observe outcomes for children who did not receive them. Most children survived measles in 1834 regardless of treatment. In contrast, modern vaccines are proven protections that have been rigorously tested. The historian suggests that parents refusing vaccines today are making a reverse error by discounting effective protection because the disease has become unfamiliar. Butt's story highlights how medical authority was being institutionalized by men in the 1830s, marginalizing ordinary voices and women specifically.
The discovery of Butt's letter underscores that ordinary people have always been part of the medical conversation, though their insights were often pushed to the fringes due to sexism and professional gatekeeping. The historian emphasizes that while much of pre-19th-century medicine was ineffective, the act of observing and reporting illness by community members laid groundwork for public health. The narrative concludes that recognizing these historical voices is essential, as modern health populism often masks long-standing patterns of exclusion rather than representing a novel rebellion.
Sources: STAT News.