The Facts behind the Fiction
Writing historical fiction involves a lot of research which informs the novel but is not necessarily included in it. This blog is for sharing some of the fun and interesting facts I came across while researching my novel, Shakespeare Cliff. SPOILER ALERT!! Contains excerpts from the story and plot reveals. I am continuing the theme of disease, illness and death - morbid, perhaps, but topical in this time of the Covid pandemic. Several characters in the book suffer disease and illness. The previous blog covered Elizabeth Crouch`s childbed fever and her husband, George`s duodenal ulcer and growth on the lungs. Now for three more sufferers. Mrs Kesby - A Growth on the Brain Following her husband`s death in an accident, Mrs Kesby takes on ownership of Buckland Mill. She is George`s employer and undertakes to raise Sarah, George`s daughter as her own child. From the start of the novel she suffers from headaches. At the end of her first confrontation with Sarah she says: "Now go to your room, and on your way, send Nancy in. One of my headaches is starting." The headaches grow worse, and following a fall in which she hits her head on the arm of a wooden chair, she is confined to bed: In the dim light, the poor woman lying in the enormous bed looked shrunken. Her gauntness emphasised her sharp features, softened only by the frills of her night-bonnet. A storybook illustration of a witch sprang into Sarah’s mind. Although supported by pillows, it appeared the effort of keeping her head upright exhausted Mrs Kesby and she kept closing her eyes. She has called Sarah to her room to offer her a compromise. She will agree to her marrying Edwin – an unsuitable match in her eyes – on condition Sarah waits for a year: It may have been Mrs Kesby’s common sense which made her accept the futility of further efforts to change Sarah’s mind. More likely, she had registered the imminent end to her span on this earth and death’s shadow lent her a clemency little in evidence during her hale and hearty years. The headaches which plagued her for several months worsened in frequency and intensity. Before the year ended, she was dead from a growth on the brain. Mrs Kesby has been suffering from a brain tumour. Her symptoms apparent in the story are headaches, loss of balance, and fatigue. In 1898 there was little effective treatment for cancer other than surgical removal of the tumour. This was commonly attempted in cases where the tumour was visible, in breast cancers for example, but in the absence of CT scans, operating on a brain tumour was precarious to say the least. Nevertheless, it was attempted and ‘The first practical treatise on intracranial tumors was published in 1888 by Byrom Bramwell (1847 – 1931), an English surgeon who specialised in surgery for brain tumors.’ 1 Radiotherapy was developed too late for Mrs Kesby as X-rays were only discovered by Roentgen in 1896 and not used for cancer diagnosis or treatment until three years after that. All that was available to Mrs Kesby were adjustments to her diet and the ubiquitous bloodletting. Winnie Hill - Measles When Sarah goes to her sister-in-law Elsie’s house to tell her she has gone into labour, she notices Elsie’s little girl, Winnie, is looking unwell: Six-year-old Winnie sucked her thumb, staring at Sarah with glazed eyes. The next day, Ed hears from his brother-in-law, Alf, that Winnie has the measles: They shook hands. “How’re things?” “Not bad, though Winnie’s come down with the measles, so Elsie’s busy. She won’t be goin’ round yours to help with the newborn, I’m afraid.” “Crikey! Sorry to hear that. Hope poor Winnie gets over it soon.” Ed frowned in concern for Alf’s wife and daughter and his own. He had been relying on Elsie to help Sarah find her feet with the baby. “Hope the others don’t catch it.” In 1900 when this conversation takes place, germ theory was still in its infancy, but thanks to the work of Louis Pasteur and Joseph Lister, most people knew that diseases like measles were infectious. British patent applications in 1900 included devices for avoiding infection from the communion chalice and the telephone. 2 Hence, Alf’s decision to send the other children away to prevent them catching it. But by no means everyone understood the mechanics of infection as this cartoon from 1915 indicates: Measles was common and most people survived it, but it could have unpleasant side effects ranging from mild, such as diarrhoea and ear infections, to serious such as blindness, encephalitis and pneumonia leading to death. One of the treatments at this time was for the patient to stay in a darkened room as it was thought, erroneously, that light would increase the likelihood of blindness. Children lay in darkened rooms for two or three weeks until the infection had passed, a practice which continued well into the 20th century. I remember my mother telling me about her experience of this, and she was born in 1923. Nowadays immunisation helps keep the incidence of measles down, although outbreaks of the disease occur in populations where the uptake of vaccinations is low. Measles is a virus and there are no antiviral drugs to treat patients once they’ve contracted the disease. Edwin Marsh - Consumption The first sign of this disease in Sarah’s husband, Ed, is a cough: Ed’s coughing fit marred the walk to the park. He’d had a lingering cough for three weeks and couldn’t seem to shift it. Half way up Park Avenue he convulsed in a spasm lasting minutes, bringing up phlegm which he spat into a drain. As soon as they reached the park, he sat down on a bench close to the entrance. “You lot go and explore. I’m gonna sit here and catch my breath. I’ll wander along later and find you.” “Are you sure, Ed? We can wait with you.” Sarah tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice: the coughing fit had unsettled her. She would make certain they talked about it when they got home. Ed had to see a doctor. The coughing is followed by a fever: In the night, she awoke to find Ed trembling next to her. He had thrown off the covers and was exuding heat like a furnace, dampening the sheets with sweat. “What is it, Ed? What’s the matter.” “Don’t know. I can’t stop shivering. Must’ve got a fever.” Sarah fetched a flannel wrung out with cold water to soothe his brow and lay awake worrying until he stopped shaking and fell back asleep. Ed is suffering from tuberculosis commonly referred to as TB. The symptoms are a cough lasting more than three weeks which produces phlegm, sometimes with blood in it, fever, chills, night sweats, loss of appetite and weight loss, fatigue, sometimes swellings in the neck. Ed displays many of these symptoms: Trembling and sweating from one of his night fevers, Pa’s voice shook, and he struggled to catch his breath. The handkerchief he clasped was speckled red. Jane wished she could help. She would trade everything she owned to make him better. “It’s Jane, Pa. Annie’s in the cellar with Ma and the others. They’re all right, just scared. It was a loud bang.” You can say that again.” Pa struggled to sit up and Jane propped pillows behind him, noticing the hard glitter of his eyes in the darkness. And: Bert had met him before and remembered him as a young, lively, athletic man. The change in his appearance shocked him: he had lost weight and muscle tone, looking gaunt and wasted. He must be mid- to late-thirties, yet looked older than Jack’s dad in his forties. TB was widespread in the 19th and early 20th centuries, especially amongst the urban poor whose diets and unsanitary living conditions undermined their immune systems. ‘Causing as much as one-quarter of all deaths in Europe, arising with particular frequency among young adults between the ages of 18 and 35, and bringing on a lingering, melancholy decline characterized by loss of body weight, skin pallor, and sunken yet luminous eyes, tuberculosis was enshrined in literature as the “captain of death”, the slow killer of youth, promise, and genius.’ 3 Famous people who died of TB in the 19th and 20th centuries include Keats, Chopin, the Brontë sisters, Chekhov, Modigliani and Kafka. It is caused by a bacterium, mycobacterium tuberculosis, identified in 1882 by the German physician, Robert Koch, for which he received a Nobel prize. It is not highly contagious and most people’s immune systems can overcome it. But in some people the bacteria lie dormant for years without the infected person showing symptoms of the disease. Immunization was developed by 1921 but only became widespread after World War 2. In the early 1900s when Ed was suffering from this disease treatment options were limited. It was believed that fresh air was of benefit and sufferers were encouraged to rest and take the air in sanatoria located in the mountains or by the sea – a feasible course of treatment for the wealthy but not for the likes of Ed. He eventually succumbs to TB and dies aged forty: Two weeks after Armistice Day, Pa neared his end. He surprised the doctor by lingering so long after so protracted an illness. At least he realised the war was over. For the final hours he slipped into unconsciousness, Jane took turns with Annie and Ma to hold his hand, listening to the gurgling breathing, as though his lungs were liquefying. Ma smoothed the hair from his forehead. “Look how curly black his hair still is, Jane. Hardly any grey.” She ran her fingertips along the side of his face, tracing his jawbone in a loving caress. “We must give him another shave this evening. See how badly we did it before.” Jane moved closer to study Pa’s gaunt, muscle-wasted face. Patches of tattered beard grew where the pockets of sunken flesh were too slack for the razor. The sight made her tearful. Nowadays TB is treated by antibiotics and is only fatal if left untreated. That’s this dose of medical facts done with, but there’s more to come next time. Thanks for reading. Sources: 1. A note from history: Landmarks in history of cancer, parts 4 and 5 by Steven I. Hajdu MD and Farbod Darvishian MD, American Cancer Society Journals, 2013. 2. Health & Medicine in the 19th Century by Jan Marsh, Victoria and Albert Museum website. 3. Tuberculosis through history by the editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. 4. History of Cancer, Ancient and Modern Treatment Methods Akulapalli Sudhakar Journal of Cancer Science & Therapy, Vol.1 Issue 2 5. Wikipedia
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Bloodletting in 1860, one of only three known photographs of the procedure.[Wikipedia] Hello and welcome to my blog. Writing historical fiction involves an awful lot of research which informs the novel but isn't necessarily included in it. I want to share with you some of the fun facts I've learnt during the course of writing Shakespeare Cliff. SPOILER ALERT!!! If you intend to read the novel when it's published, please be aware that these posts contain excerpts and plot reveals. Given the current Covid situation, I decided that disease, illness and death would be good subjects to start with - morbid, maybe, but topical. Warning: if you're a little on the squeamish side, you may find some of this content disturbing. There are several characters in Shakespeare Cliff who have to put up with illness and it goes without saying that conditions were not as sanitary and treatments not as advanced as they are today. Childbed fever - Elizabeth Crouch The second chapter of the novel opens with Elizabeth Crouch on her deathbed: The doctor had diagnosed childbirth fever. A piece of the afterbirth festered in her womb and she would die within weeks if not days. In the illustration, a woman is being shown her newborn baby for the final time before receiving the last rites. [Engraving by A.H.Payne after C.Piloty - Wellcome Collection.] Known nowadays as puerperal sepsis, a term coined in 1716 by Edward Strother, childbed fever is an infection soon after childbirth caused by a streptococcus bacterium. The disease progresses rapidly with symptoms of abdominal pain, fever and weakness. Elizabeth knows she will die soon. She must put her affairs in order and write a letter to her daughter while she still has strength: At present her symptoms were mild: headaches, a pain in her abdomen, fevers and chills, which woke her at night. But her condition would worsen. The disease also affects lactation. Poor Elizabeth could not even nurse her newborn daughter: She glanced at the crib next to her bed, expecting to see her precious baby asleep, but the wet-nurse had taken her. Elizabeth’s own milk had dried. An understanding of infections and how they are transmitted was in its infancy towards the end of the 19th century. Childbed fever was widespread and feared. It was one of the many causes of death in childbirth. ‘In the 18th and 19th centuries, there were between six and nine cases for every 1,000 deliveries, resulting in a death toll during that span of as much as half a million in England alone.’ 1 [A blog on child birth coming soon.] In Elizabeth’s case it was caused by a torn placenta. The part of the placenta left in the uterus becomes infected a few days after the birth leading rapidly to blood poisoning. But childbed fever was often caused by lack of hygiene when doctors or midwives failed to wash their hands and unwittingly passed on infection from one patient to another. A doctor could come directly from examining a body in the morgue to attending a mother in childbirth without washing his hands. Statistically, you were more likely to get childbed fever from a doctor assisting the birth than a midwife. In Elizabeth’s day, 1881, there was no known cure and death was almost inevitable. Treatment included opium for the pain and bloodletting to reduce the fever: Elizabeth reclined in the chair and closed her eyes, steadying her breathing as the dull pain in her abdomen intensified into something she could no longer ignore. Her forehead felt hot to her touch. Time for more bloodletting soon. But there was no treatment available to kill the bacteria which caused the infection. With modern hygiene and antibiotics, thankfully, the disease is now comparatively rare. Duodenal ulcer – George Crouch Elizabeth meets her future husband, George Crouch at her father’s surgery in Sandwich. She writes in her diary: This was not our first meeting. For months, he has visited surgery. Papa’s reputation for curing complaints of the digestive tract draws patients from far afield. Mr Crouch’s physician will have referred him to Papa, having exhausted other avenues without success. Elizabeth is concerned to know what is the matter with her suitor: And what ails him that he has sought treatment from Papa? He looks in fine form. I hope he has no chronic and debilitating condition. Surely Papa would not affiance me to a potential invalid! Elizabeth’s sister Ellen is also keen to know all the details: Ellen’s eyebrows rose, and her jaw dropped. She wanted to know everything about him. I explained he was one of Papa’s patients whom she would not have met. Eager for gossip-worthy details, she asked what ailed him. Patient confidentiality prevented Papa from answering, but I too longed to know the severity of his condition before taking the courtship seriously. Papa assures Elizabeth that Mr Crouch is cured but she still has her doubts: Tea this afternoon was nerve-wracking. Eager to impress Mr Crouch with my culinary skills, I presented soft cod’s roe on buttered toast to start. He consumed a single slice. He is a neat eater. I wondered if his abstemiousness arises from his medical condition, though Papa has assured me he is cured. Perhaps he is not fond of cod’s roe but was too polite to decline. I suppose that is one challenge of embarking on an intimate relationship—getting to know each other’s likes and dislikes. I hope Mr Crouch doesn’t suffer too severely from indigestion. George has been suffering from a duodenal ulcer, another disease caused by bacteria, though not usually fatal. The symptoms include abdominal pain a few hours after eating and at night, bloating, blood in the faeces, sometimes nausea or vomiting. Nowadays duodenal ulcers can be investigated by endoscopy and treated with a range of sophisticated drugs but in the 1880s the treatment was confined to dietary advice and the use of antacids such as milk of magnesia. Drinking alcohol exacerbates the condition. As Elizabeth discovers after she is married, George now and again enjoys a drink too many. A growth on the lungs – George Crouch George recovers from his ulcer and lives to the ripe old age of 80 before dying of lung cancer. His daughter, Sarah, and he are estranged and she hears the news of his illness from a sister-in-law she bumps into in the town: “I met my sister-in-law in town, my brother Walter’s wife, and she said my father’s seriously ill. They’ve moved into the cottage to care for him. They don’t think he’s got much time left.” Since he’s clearly on his last legs, Sarah decides to visit him with her daughter Annie: “How is he?” Ma asked. “Well,” Walter said, “the growth on his lungs means his breathing’s not up to much. But you know Father—he’s a tough old boot. There’s no telling how long he’ll hang on.” “Is he in pain?” Annie asked. “He’s having laudanum for the pain,” Walter’s wife said, “so he’s drowsy much of the time. He’s due another dose soon. See him now, if you want any sense from him.” On entering the parlour, Annie heard stertorous, laboured breathing, like a saw rasping through hard wood. The sickroom was stuffy and dim, with a fire burning in the grate and the curtains drawn. A whiff of ammonia from the unemptied chamber pot permeated the room. Grandpa Crouch was lying on his back, the covers pulled up to his chin. Disturbed by their entrance, he stirred and turned his head towards them. Leon Michel Gambetta on his deathbed. Etching by Charles Renouard, 1883. [Wellcome Collection] George shows symptoms of advanced lung cancer – wheezing, shortness of breath and fatigue: He fell back on the pillow and panted, as though he had rushed up a flight of stairs. The conversation had exhausted him and he took a while to regain his breath. Annie listened to his rasping and watched his chest rise and fall under the covers, as he struggled to fill his lungs. She wanted to get away. Obviously, modern treatments of chemotherapy were unavailable in 1919 when George was suffering from this disease. They were developed in the 1940s. Radiotherapy was begun in 1900 but was not widespread until mid-century. Surgery to remove a tumour was one option. Although anaesthetics, introduced in the 1840s, meant surgery was less painful, most patients were not cured by it. A surgical operation to remove a malignant tumour from a man's left breast and armpit in a Dublin drawing room, 1817. Watercolour, 1817. [Power, Robert F. Credit: Wellcome Collection.]
For George, opiates to dull the pain were the only treatment. He dies a couple of months after this final meeting with his daughter and granddaughter in February 1920. Enough of this gruesome topic for the time being - more characters and their illnesses in the next blog. Good health to you all! Adrienne. Footnote: 1. Emily Baumrin, William Corbett, and Amita Kulkarni, Dartmouth Medical School, 2010 Sources: 1.The Attempt to Understand Puerperal Fever in the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries by Christine Hallett PhD. 2. Childbed fever: A Nineteenth-Century Mystery by Christa Colyer School of Science University of Ontario Institute of Technology 3. A comprehensive history of cancer treatment by Nigel Hawkes. |
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