The Joys of Research

Dr. Murray rose and reached up to the railed bookshelf attached to the bulkhead over his desk, his hand resting on a thick volume.
“Take this with you, Miss Alcott. Study it. You will find it useful.”
It was a worn copy of John Woodall’s The Surgeon’s Mate, and Charley took it, clasping it tight to her bound bosom.
“I have heard of this book but my father did not have a copy. Thank you so much, Dr. Murray!”
He looked at her steadily.
“I am not gifting you with this volume to make you happy, Miss Alcott. I am hopeful that the solid medical advice and common sense for treating men at sea will keep the numbers you kill to a minimum.”

--Sea Change



I spent a day of research and fun in New York City recently thanks to my darling son, who knows his mother very well. Instead of doing the usual tourist things (been there, done that, got the Statue of Liberty hat) he arranged a visit to the library of the New York Academy of Medicine.

The NYAM is an amazing facility and I could easily have spent weeks in the library reading old medical books. Mind you, I'm not a physician or an RN or anything else related to medicine, but since my books feature battles and diseases in a historical context I love the research. The Academy is housed in a classic early 20th C. mansion on the Upper East Side and you can view books in the library by appointment.

Thanks to the 21st c. links at the library website I was able to check out the library's extensive collections and reserve books on naval medicine, including the classic The Surgeon's Mate by John Woodall. First published in 1617, the volume became the standard for naval medicine for many years. It contained instructions on the treatment of disease and wounds, and some common sense advice for the prevention of disease aboard ship. For example, he strongly emphasized properly weighing and measuring ingredients to achieve optimum results.

Woodall tried to cover most or the situations which could arise at sea, including childbirth and, naturally, the treatment of scurvy, as well as recipes for invalid diets. One recipe for the comfort (not treatment) of a plague sufferer sounds surprisingly tasty:

"Lemon or good Citron" stewed in rosewater with cloves. When it's "half-stewed", add powdered "cynamon". Woodall pronounced this "A singular good cordial so taken."

Another volume I (carefully) leafed through was a manual for shipboard medicine by Gregg & Hollis from the 1820s, much used by whaling captains. It was slim and easy to understand, a must for the civilian population who didn't have the background of a ship's surgeon.

The 1881 US Public Health Service Handbook of the Ship's Medicine Chest discussed the serious health issue of constipation. The captain might have a "seat of ease" in his cabin, but ordinary seamen were expected to hang off the bow, even in bad weather. Not surprisingly, this wasn't fun and blockages could result. The Health Service instead wanted installation of a porcelain bowl with a spout "set to discharge through the scuppers" that could be easy washed out with sea water.

 A British guide from 1845 on "The Scale of Medicines With Which Merchant Vessels are to be Furnished" included simple directions on how to stock the ship's medicine chest, with numbered instructions in the manual. Here's a photo of the page on treatment of "clap":

This is an illustration from Woodall's Surgeon's Mate, followed by his instructions on treatment of scurvy:

 Another Woodall illustration on trephining skulls to relieve pressure and swelling of the brain.

As I said, I could easily have spent days leafing through the volumes. My thanks to NYAM librarian Arlene Shaner for arranging my visit, and to my son's girlfriend, who initially said to him, "This sounds like something your mom would enjoy."

She was absolutely right and I hope to return on a future visit to New York City. You can keep your Broadway shows and shopping, just bring me the books!