Comments for Dr Alun Withey

Comment on “The infamous Dr Foulkes”: The ‘black villain’ of 18th-century physick by Carnivalesque 94: No bishop, no king | the many-headed monster

Carnivalesque 94: No bishop, no king | the many-headed monster — Sat, 27 Apr 2013 06:28:47 +0000

[...] full-bodied maids suffered rather less welcome attention from their doctors in other cases. The ‘infamous Dr Foulkes’, a vicar and physician in eighteenth-century Wales, was the target of some contemptuous doggerel [...]

Comment on Eighteenth-Century fashionable diseases, and the dangers of crowded rooms. by The Online Republic of Letters | Voltaire Foundation

The Online Republic of Letters | Voltaire Foundation — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 09:20:46 +0000

[...] for a different type of networking, here is a blogpost by Alun Whitney on James McKittrick Adair’s 1790 book Essays on Fashionable Diseases, in which [...]

Comment on Eighteenth-Century fashionable diseases, and the dangers of crowded rooms. by – 10 links for March

– 10 links for March — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 13:31:55 +0000

[...] TB Day Eighteenth-Century fashionable diseases, and the dangers of crowded rooms The Dominion Fisheries Museum: modeling fish and fisheries 1884-1918 John Snow and Cholera [...]

Comment on Media/Links by J. G. Burdette

J. G. Burdette — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 17:02:32 +0000

Thanks for including my blog in your list! Very kind of you.

Comment on Beards, Moustaches and Facial Hair in History by NIcholas

NIcholas — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 14:44:38 +0000

Wanted to add: 19th century African Americans, slave or freed, frequently sported long sideburns, beards, etc. They might not have been able to indulge in “fashion” due to poverty, but I suspect that they, like all people, were still aware of social “norms” regarding appearance, and wanted to be like everyone else in terms of it, as best they could. It would have been the same in the 18th century. As an aside, you can find 18th century advertizements for runaway slaves on line. All of them mention height, scars, clothing, etc., but none of them mention facial hair one way or the other.

Comment on Beards, Moustaches and Facial Hair in History by NIcholas

NIcholas — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 14:32:00 +0000

18th century engravings usually depict black men (Crispus Attucks for example) as being clean shaven. 18th century paintings of highly regarded black male servants likewise do, perhaps to reflect the social standing of the people who commissioned them. As there are indigenous tribes in Africa which have long standing traditions of no facial hair for men, I suspect that slaves brought to Europe and the Americans in the 18th century, likewise found ways to shave, despite not having fancy razors and such. A sharpened clam shell will do the trick. Do a Google search for “African men 18th century” and you’ll find web sites with images.

Comment on Beards, Moustaches and Facial Hair in History by Dr Alun Withey

Dr Alun Withey — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 13:57:50 +0000

Dear Peter,
Thanks for your comment. I must admit that I haven’t come across much evidence for beards or shaving by slaves. My feeling is that they probably wouldn’t shave routinely, unless they had a master who insisted that they did. I guess some of it also depends on ethnicity; some African peoples don’t have much facial hair, so it wouldn’t be an issue. Perhaps the soul patch – as a 1950s invention – might be a bit anachronistic…but you never know!

Best wishes
Alun

Comment on Beards, Moustaches and Facial Hair in History by Peter Francisco

Peter Francisco — Wed, 27 Mar 2013 02:21:35 +0000

Question: Would the same have held true for slaves in 18th c. America? Would they have had access to such shaving instruments? I’ve been portraying my ancestor (who was first a slave turned RevWar soldier) with a soul patch, but now I wonder if that might be a stretch.

Comment on Eighteenth-Century fashionable diseases, and the dangers of crowded rooms. by Dr Alun Withey

Dr Alun Withey — Tue, 26 Mar 2013 09:37:14 +0000

Dear James,
Thanks very much indeed for this, and I’m going to look out a copy of your book in the library this morning – it looks fascinating and I’m intrigued by the connection between music and illness.

Adair sounds like a fascinating character and I’m tempted to try and find out more about him, so thanks for this reference which I’ll have to try and get to see. I’ve been looking for an excuse to head to Edinburgh, so this sounds like a good one.

All the best and thanks again
Alun

Comment on Eighteenth-Century fashionable diseases, and the dangers of crowded rooms. by James Kennaway

James Kennaway — Mon, 25 Mar 2013 11:12:42 +0000

Good work – check out my favourite footnote in my book Bad Vibrations.

In 1790 the waggish Scottish physician James Makattrick Adair wrote a satire on mesmerism that mocked what he saw as its lasciviousness and hypocrisy. He has his mesmerist explain that, “magnetical influence was conveyed chiefly by two organs of sense, the sight and the touch. Hence in public magnetical cures, the former was chiefly employed; but that, in private practice the latter was more successful: and hence it was that matrons were less subject to hysterics than widows or maidens, who in consequence of matrimonial connexion with proper subjects, often experienced, if not the cure, at least a mitigation of their distress: He accounted for this difference in the effects on the two sense, by observing, that as in mineral, so in animal magnetism, the attraction was strongest at the point of contact. F. G. (James Makittrick Adair), An Essay on a Non-Descript, or Newly Invented Disease; Its Nature, Causes, and Means of Relief (London: J. P. Bateman, 1790), p. 15. To underline this point, Adair wrote an anecdote down in the margins of his own copy of the book: “Not many months ago a certain Baronet detected his Lady’s magnetizing Doctor in the act of administering to her Ladyship in a mode not strictly professional. He made his escape from the house, followed by the enraged Baronet, whom he outstripped in the race and left the cuckold to have recourse to legal vengeance.” Ibid., 14. Handwritten note in author’s own copy in The Royal College of Physicians Edinburgh Library (Catalogue number TL M5.5).