#141 HEALING, HOPE OR HUMBUG

 

The ancestral home of my Netterfields is in County Cavan, Ireland. From there, my branch of the family emigrated to Canada in the 1840s and another branch went to Australia. There were also Netterfields already living in the USA by the late 1700s; I am not sure if/how they might be related but Netterfield is not a common surname so there is a good chance that many Netterfield families are related within a relatively small number of generations.

I stumbled across this William Netterfield in my research and even if we are not distant cousins, his story is just too much fun not to be written. His second wife, Anna, was equally unique and controversial. 

 

                                                WILLIAM  “ESPANTO”  NETTERFIELD

William Netterfield was born on June 30, 1854, probably in Indiana. For many years he lived in Crawford County, Missouri, where he worked as a house painter. According to one account, he eventually threw away his paint brush declaring that "if his head was not sharp enough to earn him a living, he might as well chop it off."

A HEALER OR A QUACK??  Seeking greater opportunity, William travelled to St. Louis, Missouri, where he entered into partnership with another man in the patent medicine trade. Together they purchased a travelling medicine outfit and a boat and began floating down the rivers of the American South, selling remedies and exploiting the credulity of what one contemporary source described as “ignorant and superstitious” rural Black communities. The venture proved profitable from the beginning, reportedly earning fifty dollars on the first trip and substantially more on later excursions. William eventually bought out his partner and continued the business alone. At first he sold patent medicines, but soon he was making his own products.

By this time he had reinvented himself as “Dr. Espanto.” Realizing that many people believed Indigenous peoples possessed mystical or occult powers, William carefully cultivated an exotic persona. He allowed his hair to grow to his shoulders and adopted the mysterious, Indian-sounding name “Espanto,” hoping to inspire awe and attract customers. Posters with his picture in Indian costume and surrounded by spirits preceded him “which gave him great prestige with the ignorant and superstitious who flocked by the hundreds to get medicine from this ‘aboriginal’.” Spiritualism and occult healing  soon became part of his enterprise. One interesting detail is the use of the name “Espanto”, which, in Spanish, can mean “fright”, “astonishment” or something supernatural or ghastly. This name may have been deliberately chosen as a theatrical stage name as it would have ideally suited a spiritualist person.

Operating mainly in Texas, Kansas, Colorado, Nevada, and especially Iowa, “Dr. Espanto” conducted what was essentially a mail-order medical fraud. Prospective patients were instructed to send a photograph, a lock of hair, a stocking or sock, and a description of their symptoms. Espanto would then diagnose vague but common ailments — weak nerves, bad backs, weak hearts — and prescribe lengthy treatments costing substantial sums of money. If the patient survived the prescribed treatment period, he frequently recommended additional cures at a “reduced” price. Like many patent medicine promoters of the era, Espanto blended entertainment, folk-healing, superstition, and aggressive salesmanship.

During the late nineteenth century, such medical fraud flourished across North America. Professional medical regulation was still weak, especially in rural districts, and many people had little access to trained physicians. Newspapers were filled with advertisements for miracle cures, travelling doctors, magnetic healers, spiritualists, and patent medicines that promised relief from everything from rheumatism and tuberculosis to “female weakness” and nervous disorders. Many of these remedies contained alcohol, narcotics, or worthless ingredients, but aggressive advertising and extravagant testimonials convinced thousands to spend money on treatments that offered little real benefit. The era was particularly fertile ground for showmen such as “Espanto” Netterfield. Travelling medicine men  blended entertainment, religion, folk beliefs, and pseudo-science into elaborate performances designed to inspire trust. Unscrupulous operators exploited these hopes by claiming mystical powers, secret Indigenous remedies, or supernatural healing abilities. Mail-order “doctors” could reach victims across entire states through newspapers and the postal system, diagnosing illnesses from locks of hair, photographs, or handwritten descriptions of symptoms. 

                                                                                                    sketch by Chatgpt

One of Espanto's most sensational "healings" was in 1905 when he removed a lizard from a man's stomach. According to the newspaper article, the man claimed that in 1864, while serving with the cavalry during the Civil War, he became desperately thirsty after a long ride. He drank heavily from a cold mountain stream and, while doing so, felt something slide down his throat. For years afterward he developed strange sensations in his stomach and eventually became convinced that a living creature was inside him. The story says the man could actually feel it moving, and over the decades he became increasingly uncomfortable. By the early 1900s, he believed the thing had grown to about fourteen inches long and 1.5 inches thick. He reportedly sought medical advice and eventually went to Dr. Espanto who examined him and dramatically announced that the object was not cancer but  a "water dog" (a salamander-like amphibian).  The man agreed to let Espanto attempt removal. The article claims that Espanto gave the man medicine that made him sleepy, after which the creature supposedly emerged and was removed without surgery, pain, or injury. The article describes the animal as dead and preserved afterward. 

                                                                Waterloo Courier, Feb 15, 1905

The tone of the article is very much that of a turn-of-the-century human-interest story mixed with medical showmanship. From a modern medical perspective, the story is almost certainly not medically credible—a living reptile or amphibian surviving in a human stomach for forty years is  implausible. But stories like this were common promotional material for travelling healers and patent medicine sellers: they combined vivid personal testimony, mystery, and dramatic “cures” to build reputation and attract audiences.

By the early twentieth century, growing public outrage led governments and medical boards to crack down on fraudulent healers, though many continued to operate for decades under new names and identities. A warning to the Milford Mail (Sept 19, 1907) about Netterfield’s questionable activities, brought this response from the Iowa Board of Medical Examiners. “We have no person registered either under the name “Espanto” or “Netterfield”. If this man is practising in Iowa, he is doing so in violation of the medicine law. If he itinerates as per your information he is thereby violating the law governing itinerating physicians …”

To the same complaint, the Missouri Board of Health wrote, “This Dr. Espanto or Netterfield is not registered and the capers he is cutting in the way of treating the afflicted is in open violation of our laws; as I have never heard of the gentleman before, I will ask you to write the assistant health officer of St. Louis to have him prosecuted…St. Louis is making an active fight on these quacks and we must give the profession there every assistance possible in the good work that they are doing; it is a hard fight and one that will take much time and labor to accomplish the results that they are trying to accomplish. Kansas City is making the same effort to rid herself of the quacks and also a number of county medical societies throughout the state are doing the same and our Board is lending every effort in its power to rid the state of these medical parasites.”

By 1909, Netterfield was prosperous enough to retire. Also according to newspaper accounts, “This would-be Indian Doctor Espanto has been chased by nearly every state board of health of the west…that he has retired from the practice of medicine will be a good thing for the health of his patients.”

REAL ESTATE: By this time, Espanto was selling real estate in the midwest.

                                                                     St.Louis Dispatch June 1911

                                                                        Kansas City Star March 1915

 

                                                                St. Louis Dispatch August 1911

                                                                St. Louis Dispatch February 1911



                               

MARRIAGE #1  William seems to have been married four times. In November 1877, he married a Mary Raberge; two sons died in childhood. In 1890, Mary sued for divorce on the grounds of desertion and petitioned to revert to her maiden name. 

 

 

MARRIAGE #2  In 1892, William married Anna Taylor. Anna studied chemistry, medicine and other things to assist William. She attended to his correspondence and helped him in the preparation of remedies used in his practice as travelling physician. Literally,  she placed herself on an intellectual plane with her husband.

SPIRITUALISM  By the turn of the 20^th century, Netterfield and Anna had become closely associated with the Spiritualist Movement, which had gained enormous popularity after the Civil War when many grieving families sought contact with the dead or relief from chronic illnesses. Spiritualism taught that the living could communicate with the dead through mediums, trance speakers, healing sessions, and spirit manifestations. For many followers, it was a sincere religious faith, but it also provided opportunities for charismatic figures to build public reputations through lectures, and healing claims. The movement was very active across Missouri, Kansas, Illinois, Indiana and Ohio; it blended religion, mediumship, healing, seances and communication with the dead. 

Many practitioners called themselves “ministers” because Spiritualist churches could formally ordain mediums and healers. The Progressive Thinker, a Spritualist newspaper in Chicago, announced that Anna was publicly ordained as a Minister of Spiritualism on June 12, 1904. “A large and interested audience was present; the ceremonies were impressive and Mrs. Netterfield’s acceptance of the charge and appointment was eloquently and feelingly expressed. To the friends everywhere, we unhesitatingly commend Sister Netterfield as one not only qualified mentally for her work, but whose beautiful character makes her an honor to the cause she serves.” Ordained ministers could perform marriages, conduct funerals, preach, give trance lectures, operate healing ministries. Unlike many mainstream churches of the time, women were especially notable in the movement.

Other independent ministers, like perhaps William Netterfield, simply adopted impressive titles like Professor or Doctor. It was Anna’s formal ordination within a Spiritualist church organization, however, that gave them needed credibility. Husband-wife teams were common as one might conduct the healing, the other give trance messages or spirit readings and both might preach at camp meetings. Remedies sold included spirit communication, healing seances, curse removal, magnetic treatment, diagnosis by clairvoyance. The Netterfields appear to have easily moved between the worlds of Spiritualist ministry and commercial healing, using revival-style meetings, claims of spiritual power and sale of patent medicines to build audiences and income.

 

                                                                                                            sketch by Chatgpt

SOCIALISM  Given their background in itinerant medicine, spiritualism, and work among poorer and working-class communities, Anna and William Netterfield were drawn to the socialist ideas of Eugene V. Debs, whose message appealed to people excluded from wealth and power in industrial America. Debs advocated democratic socialism rather than violent revolution, believing change should come through education, elections, organized labour, and political action. Between 1900 and 1920 he ran for President five times, campaigning for workers’ rights, women’s suffrage, unemployment assistance, public ownership of key industries, and an end to child labour.

At the turn of the twentieth century, spiritualist circles often overlapped with reform movements such as socialism, labour activism, temperance, and women’s rights. The Netterfields publicly expressed unconventional views about marriage, once declaring that “marriage vows stand for naught, that people should be free to the fullest extent.” Anna, in particular, argued that the “divorce evil” could best be addressed through “a campaign of education along socialistic lines.” Her views reflected broader reform ideas of the period. Many socialists believed traditional marriage laws reinforced women’s economic dependence and unequal social roles, while some more radical reformers embraced “free love,” the idea that relationships should rest upon mutual affection and personal freedom rather than legal or economic obligation. Anna also connected divorce to women’s independence and political rights. She argued that many wives remained trapped in unhappy marriages because they lacked economic freedom, remarking that there “would be a great many more divorces” if women had the independence to assert themselves. She described many married women as “slaves, dependent upon their husbands for their food and clothing,” and concluded that “Socialism and the ballot for women are the only cures for divorce.” Such statements were highly controversial at the time, particularly when voiced publicly by a woman.

                                                                                -Fresno Herald, Aug 16, 1909

DIVORCE  When Anna sued William “Dr. Espanto” Netterfield for divorce, newspapers portrayed the case as sensational and accused her of hypocrisy, describing her as an “anti-divorce crusader” who had suddenly “changed views.” Anna firmly rejected this interpretation, insisting that critics misunderstood her ideas. She argued that “the capitalistic system” and modern social conditions placed enormous strain upon marriages. Although she regretted the breakdown of her own marriage, she stated that she did “not feel bitter” toward William and claimed that if his work had not kept him travelling so frequently, “longing for, and seeking, companionship this thing probably never would have happened.” “Not that I am criticizing him for that. It was only a natural impulse, I suppose.”

                                                                    St.Louis Dispatch July 1909

Despite Anna’s ideological explanation, the immediate cause of the divorce appears to have been William’s relationship with another woman. Newspaper accounts reported that Anna became suspicious when William spent long periods away from home. According to the articles, she "ransacked" his valise and discovered a love letter addressed to “My Dearest One” and signed, “Now be my own good boy.” The letter reportedly came from another woman with whom William had become involved during his travels. Newspapers hinted that William’s long absences, wandering lifestyle, and association with female followers and patients had become a growing source of strain within the marriage. Anna later testified that his constant time on the road contributed to the collapse of their relationship.

                                                                

                                                                St. Louis Dispatch, July 1909

 Anna used the letter as evidence in court, and in July 1909 she was granted a divorce along with $1,000 alimony after William failed to appear to contest the case. William, who was reportedly in Texas at the time, filed a cross-bill for divorce but did not return to defend it. Rather than abandoning her earlier beliefs, Anna seems to have regarded her own divorce as confirmation of the very social and marital problems she had long criticized.

MARRIAGE #3  One newspaper had described William’s companion as a “grass widow”, a term usually applied, disapprovingly, to separated, divorced or socially unconventional women living outside traditional marriage expectations. William married his grass widow, Margaret “Scottie” Austin, on September 14, 1909 in Bowie Texas. For the next twenty years, Scottie wrote and lectured at Spiritualist meetings; she was a member of the Socialist-Labour party.

On the 1920 census, William, Scottie, her parents and her son  were living in St. Joseph City, Missouri; William was still listed as a physician. Scottie and William must have divorced in the early 1920s as she remarried in 1925 in Texas.

 

MARRIAGE #4  William’s fourth and last marriage was on November 13, 1924 in Volusia, Florida to Elsie (Selecman) Mead. Elsie had recently been divorced by her husband and William was named as the cause of the separation. According to the newspaper account: “Dr. Espanto is said to be an Indian and he and his bride are spiritualists. They first met over a year ago in a summer camp held by  spiritualists in Iowa. Later Mrs. Selecman and her parents spent the winter in Cassadago, Fla where Dr. Espanto resides. Dr. Espanto also visited for a short time at the home of Mrs. Selecman’s parents in Missouri, but at that time neither her husband nor her father or mother were aware that he and Mrs. Selecman were interested in each other any more than their friendship resulting from their mutual interest in the study of spiritualism. At the time her husband filed for divorce last fall, Mrs. Selecman left immediately for Indianapolis  before going to Florida where she was joined by Dr. Espanto and where the marriage took place. He is many years older than his bride.” William was 70 years old, Elsie was 40.

POSTAL FRAUD  In 1935, federal authorities issued a postal fraud order against William Netterfield, then operating in Florida under the name "Dr. Espanto." The order barred him from receiving mail through the US postal service, a measure commonly used against fraudulent patent medicine sellers making deceptive claims. William was now aged 81!, yet apparently still operating his scams. His activities had crossed from merely eccentric or theatrical into territory that federal authorities considered deceptive and illegal.

Dr. Espanto and Elsie had taken up residence in Volusia County, Florida, most likely in Cassadaga, a community known for having many mediums and psychics, and consequently has been named "the Psychic Capital of the World." (People today at Cassadaga believe "Spiritualism has no dogma or creed, it is just a simple set of nine principles to help guide our lives." All healers and mediums go through a minimum 4 years certification, including classes on psychic development, mediumship, healing, platform decorum, and ethics. In 1991, the Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp was declared a US Historic district; it is a federal tax-exempt church.)

DEATH  William, aged 82, died in Florida on August 12, 1936 following a stroke; alcoholism is listed as a contributing cause of death. His funeral followed Spiritualist rites which believed that the soul survived death and that the living could communicate with spirits through mediums, séances, trance speakers, or other psychic practices. Rather than emphasizing mourning, sin, or final judgment, the funeral ceremonies focused on the idea that death was simply a transition into another stage of existence. Services commonly include readings or lectures about the immortality of the soul, messages said to come from the deceased through a medium, music, poetry, or inspirational talks rather than formal church liturgy, references to reunion in the spirit world, less emphasis on orthodox doctrines such as heaven, hell, or resurrection. William was buried in the Cassadaga Cemetery.

                                            Lake Helen Cemetery, Cassadaga, Florida

 

OF HIS WIVES?

There is no paper trail for Elsie, his last wife;  perhaps she  remarried. 

William’s first wife, Mary, assumed her maiden name of Rayberge, moved to Seattle and died there in 1930.

Third wife, Scottie, remarried Roland Plato, a professional magician (International Brotherhood of Magicians) and a fortune teller; he was a member of the Socialist Labour Party, and in 1934 ran as the Socialist candidate for California Governor. Through the 1930s, he was a travelling lecturer (topics: “Possibilities of Technology, Communism, Fascism, & Socialism”; “Millions Now Idle will Never Work Again”; “The International Scapegoat (Jews) in the USA”.) On the 1930 census, both Scottie and Roland are listed as magicians; on the 1940 census, Roland is still listed as a magician but Scottie was a practical nurse in a retirement home; on the 1950 census, Roland’s wife is a Gladys. I cannot find any further details about Scottie during the 1940s so either their marriage dissolved or she passed.

                                        ANNA TAYLOR NETTERFIELD SHIPPEY

ANNA  It was, however, William’s second wife, Anna, who after their very public divorce in 1909 continued a high profile. Anna might best be described as “unabashed”—bold, unapologetic, unconcerned with public opinion, willing to act publicly despite controversy. She had participated in patent medicines and promotional ventures,  had publicly embraced spiritualism and associated with Eugene Debs' radical ideas, and had quite unconventional views on marriage and divorce.

By 1916, Anna was living in Fort Lauderdale during the earliest years of the newly-created Broward County. In 1916, Fort Lauderdale was still a very small frontier-style community and many residents were speculators, land promoters, railroad workers, farmers or entrepreneurs trying to capitalize on anticipated growth. Anna was a real estate agent for the Moore Haven promoters.

                                                                                    -St.Louis Globe Mar 19, 1916

This is one of Anna’s ads that appeared in the St.Louis Globe in March 1916. It carries several “tells” that appear suspicious or highly speculative. The ad promises nearly limitless opportunity: cattle-raising, citrus groves, avocados, grapes, pine lands, “everglade muck”, and business opportunities in a “fast growing county seat.” Such sweeping claims were typical of Florida promotional literature in that era, when land agents and developers aggressively marketed South Florida. Particularly suspicious is the reference to “everglade muck”, a term associated with drained wetlands that promoters often described as very fertile despite ongoing drainage problems, flooding and difficult living conditions. And the ad offers little concrete information about actual properties, prices or locations; instead it relies on the excitement of the rapid growth of Fort Lauderdale. Anna’s decision to place the ad in a St.Louis newspaper also reflects a common practice of targeting northern and Midwestern buyers who could be persuaded through glowing descriptions rather than a visit and a firsthand inspection. While the ad certainly does not prove fraud, it does place Anna within the speculative culture of early South Florida land promotion, a world where exaggeration, inflated promises, and dubious investment schemes were common. (Anna did have experience hawking patent medicines with William.) Anna left her real estate work after the war.

In June 1917, Anna married Judge John A. B. Shippey in a Fort Lauderdale hotel. The marriage was fuel for gossip. Shippey was 75 years old and Anna half that age. (Both gave their ages as “over 21”). Shippey was an elderly lawyer who had been a widower for less than three months. The wedding took place at 6 o’clock in the morning so that his children, who were violently opposed to the marriage, could not intervene. One son remarked that it had been a dry spring and his “mother’s footprints were still visible in the yard when his father remarried”. It was also reported that during their brief courtship, when the Judge visited Anna at her room, another tenant dumped a basket of old shoes on his head as he was descending the stairs one night.

In March 1926, Anna petitioned the Broward Circuit Court to be declared a “free dealer”, a legal status that allowed a married woman to manage her own business and property independently of her husband. Under older Florida laws, married women often faced restrictions in signing contracts, controlling property, borrowing money. By obtaining this free dealer decree, Anna gained the legal right to act as an independent businessperson, able to sue and be sued and to manage her property as if she were unmarried. The court’s language in the decree described Anna as a successful and experienced woman with a “varied business experience.” Anna may have sought this status for several reasons. As she was involved in Florida real estate during the height of the land boom, it would have been useful to have legal authority over contracts and property. Or perhaps her husband was unable or unwilling to manage financial matters and Anna was the more active business partner. Or there was some marital strife. Or perhaps she just needed to prove her self-reliance and wasn’t content to be a dependent wife.

The Shippey marriage did not last. Judge Shippey barred her from the big house so she seized one of the Shippey cottages in which to live. They were officially divorced on May 1929. Anna kept the Shippey surname.

                                                                    Florida Times, May 24, 1929

Judge Shippey died March 17, 1930 in Fort Lauderdale, aged 83 and was buried beside his first wife.

By 1930, Anna’s fortunes appear to have declined sharply. In February of that year, she was admitted as a charity patient to the Haven of Rest in Dania, Florida, suggesting either financial hardship, ill health and late-life instability. Only months later, following the death of John Shippey, Anna applied for a widow’s Civil War pension based on his service.  (He had enlisted in the137th Illinois Infantry of the Union Army and fought at the battle of Memphis.) Anna’s application for her divorced and deceased husband’s pension does raise questions about the legal basis of her claim. Whether the pension filing reflected her financial desperation, opportunism, or a genuine belief that she still qualified as Shippey’s widow, it does offer another glimpse into Anna’s resourceful and unconventional life.

Anna died February 7 1933 in Fort Lauderdale. She was buried in her sister’s family plot in Evergreen Cemetery, Broward Co., Florida.

                                                Evergreen Cemetery, Fort Lauderdale, Fla

William and Anna Netterfield are two of the more fascinating people I have encountered in family research, whether they ultimately prove to be cousins or simply names that crossed my path. They seem to have lived several lives at once: medicine sellers, performers, spiritual seekers, lecturers, reformers, entrepreneurs, and perhaps at times opportunists. William reinvented himself repeatedly—from house painter to “Dr. Espanto,” travelling healer, spiritualist, land promoter, and showman—always appearing to chase the next audience and the next possibility. Anna matched him in ambition and intellect. She studied, organized, preached, sold, argued, reinvented herself after divorce, promoted land in frontier Florida, and publicly expressed opinions on women, marriage, and society that many of her contemporaries considered radical.

Neither fits comfortably into simple categories of fraudster or visionary. Their world was one where medicine, religion, entertainment, self-help, politics, and commerce often overlapped in ways that seem strange today. They operated in that uncertain space with energy and confidence. Some of their activities invite skepticism; others reveal genuine intelligence, resilience, and a willingness to challenge convention. What strikes me most is not whether every claim they made was true, but how determined they both were to shape their own identities and refuse ordinary lives. Whether distant relatives or not, William and Anna left behind something every family historian hopes to find: a story impossible to ignore.