Apropos of nothing at all, I've been indulging in a particular passion of mine: the pre-1800 Annual Registers.
In the 1784 volume, after all the political and international events, state papers, book reviews, poetry and general goings-on, I came across this peculiarly gruesome article, which I lay before you for your curious pleasure (or to gross you out).
Doctor Martineau was uncle of the utterly splendid Harriet Martineau and I for one am glad that he felt the need to regale the world with his fat little lady and her 6,631 pints of water.
It is worth clicking on the photos to blow them up to readable size and then trying not to be put off your coffee.
Ew …
There are divers and numerous accounts of a peculiar nature in the Annual Registers - of which I own far too many/not nearly enough (delete where applicable, unless you're Mum who thinks I have enough books … HA).
Bodysnatchers, murder most horrid, guillotining Froggy toffs in the French Revolution, furious - and hugely entertaining - arguments with the uppity Colonials, leading to their independence, witches, madness and wildly inaccurate scientific speculation … and much more.
Bodysnatchers, murder most horrid, guillotining Froggy toffs in the French Revolution, furious - and hugely entertaining - arguments with the uppity Colonials, leading to their independence, witches, madness and wildly inaccurate scientific speculation … and much more.
Look out for more of them in the coming months.
11 comments:
Ewww, indeed! Poor lady must have been so miserable.
These accounts look far more interesting than today's "reality" TV.
I love reading 'old news' as it happened, Ms.M. Expect some splendid fun when July Fourth rolls around; the Parliamentary debates and letters and pamphlets on both sides are enlightening to say the least (I've been collecting them for years). I'm currently having the 1776 Register re-stitched and pimped in period mottled calf (it's so rare and expensive in good condition that I could only afford a trashed unbound copy) and intend to post the best bits from the debates when the time comes.
Eww, indeed. Poor woman. When I was working on my steamboat book, I found I was drawn to first-hand accounts from the periods that interested me. Surprisingly (to me) there were/are a lot of them. Now working on another topic that has me looking for contemporary accounts. But at least I don't think I'll have to read about another woman having a cyst drawn off from time to time.
"Drawn off from time to time" or, I should have added, with depressing regularity. Odd that Ms M and I had such similar responses.
I wanted you to know that starting at about age five, I had the run of our local library. As I became a bit older and braver, I hung out in the stacks. I found old history books there and, even then, was caught up in contemporary accounts of daily life and American history.
Yay for contemporary accounts, Speedway. What's the new topic, by the way; your steamboat book (sitting proudly on my shelf) would like some company?
I must confess to a liking for the word "tapped" with regard to the unfortunate lady.
Uh ... buy another one. Maybe they'll mate :-) or, since they can't sweat, just rub together enough to produce a fire.
New Topic? Garages. Specifically, the residential garages of the Town of Speedway. I've wandered the town quite a bit to take pictures. In the process, I've found a number of the old, original garages that were constructed when the town was founded by Carl Fisher. He built homes for his employees (Allison Engine) that became one of the first communities planned with cars in mind. In fact, there were practically no sidewalks because it was thought people would no longer have need to walk anywhere. This problem wasn't even corrected until just a few years ago. Anyway, I'll write, if you don't mind.
You are right yuk! and Mum does think that no more books should be bought until the bathroom has a floor ha ha… Thanks for my sheet music though, did I ever play it phew fingers are old now.
Old garages are cool, Speedway. I can't wait to see the result of your labours.
Mum, I can't read a bathroom floor. And yes, you DID used to play that and I'm certain you will again.
Hmm, books...bathroom floor...books...bathroom floor...books...that's a tough choice. But more books like this one would be my preference. Unless you really don't have a bathroom floor at all.
It's just bare wood, Petrea. My feet like it but Mum doesn't.
So the answer is books. Every time.
To add to the Eeuw factor - http://dropsytheclown.com/
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