On 25 2 41 Jane writes to cancel an engagement. Her husband has 'flu and is
'resigned to be nursed.' For the next
few weeks all correspondents at home and abroad are given an account of the
attack. On 2 3 41 Carlyle is complaining to Sterling: '....influenza; - in
bone, muscle, head. heart, soul body and spirit, one of the most perfect wrecks
anywhere extant! ......alas, it is far the saddest fruit of the Fall of Man
this of having a sick body to live in!'
And another week later he is telling brother John that he 'took a pill last
night in brandy punch! I am terribly out of order in the biliary regions, that
is what ails me!'
In the summer of this year at home in Scotland on holiday, he tells John
that he is 'considerably out of order.' He believes he has a new kind of
biliousness, related to a milky diet at Scotbrig, as if there were 'too little
bile' in him! In August he is taking castor oil, in September he complains of
headache and insomnia. But the references to illness during the year are fewer
than in the past.
In 1842 he complains of a 'very inflammatory bilious state' in March, and of
depression and melancholy a week later, blamed on a 'very infirm state of
liver.' In April he feels 'now much quieter, in fact much liker a healthy man,'
but within a week he is writing to Jane to say that 'dirty continual headache
and utter powerless laziness oppress me.......I have never yet recovered my
sleep; I am in the physic line now, and shall gradually recover.' Insomnia and
'nerves' are continuing complaints, but for the rest of the year letters do not
mention health often. He tells John in September that 'my poor nerves have just
been under potent drastics (castor and Blue-pill),' and complains of 'dumbness
- the root of it all .....is clearly idleness.'
The beginning of 1843, with Carlyle now in his late forties, and having
Interrupted Cromwell to write Past and Present, brings
middle-aged complaints. He writes to his old mother of '....a nasty rheumatism
in my back, what they call lumbago.' He tells brother John the details:
'My rheumatic back was almost well; and now this morning, while I stooped
washing myself, it grew all at once horribly ill again (as if some huge tiger
had struck its claws into me, - there is a simile for you!) - and I have been
very lame ever since. My persuasion is that I can cure it by blue-pill and
castor; for I feel as if the mischief, and even the very pain, were within as
much as without; and I do not feel nearly so heart-sick as I did on Sunday.
This night I mean to experiment!'
And a week later he believes the experiment has worked, telling mother: 'my
lumbago is all gone, by the aid of some medicines I took.'
In April he cancels a trip with Forster to Milton's house in Horton, because '
I have Doctors sic) devilry in my interior today, and a such total despair of
everything...'
He signs himself:
'Adieu....in spite of blue-pill horrors, Yrs ever truly, T Carlyle'
In the Autumn of 1843, Jane Carlyle was busy house-cleaning, even nailing
down her own carpets, and at the same time trying not to upset her husband. She
writes to Jeannie W. on the 25th October:
' ,,C unable to sleep in the new room, - not for noise - his stuffed window
shutters fastened on with as many screws and bolts, as if they were for the
windows of a mad house almost wholly exclude all noise from the street - but
merely from the nervousness always incident on "finding himself in a new
position" - there were wanderings about during the night - fires kindled
with his own hands, bread and butter eaten in the china closet! - all sorts of
what shall I say - strange things upon my house done - and I all the while
lying awake listening with a bouncing heart but afraid to meddle with him -
even to offer any assistance - then the sort of days sure to follow that sort
of nights!.......the fact is I have spoiled Mr C - I have accustomed him to
have all wants supplied "without visible means".'
The New Year finds him continuing to write Cromwell, telling Emerson
in January that 'my health is in general despicable', and later writing to
Spedding to say:
'I am very sick, feel worse in health this summer than I ever did.' But during
1844 1845 and 1846 complaints are less as measured by references to health in
his letters.
In September of 1845, Cromwell published, he can write while on
holiday at Scotbrig: 'My health does improve too. Country quiet, even without
fair weather or accommodation, is important to me.'
In 1846 too there are few references to health and sickness in his
correspondence. He tell his mother in November: 'In point of health I have not
been better for a long while .....for a crazy machine such as this body of
mine, now growing an old machine too, this is very well.' But a month later he
is telling his brother that he has taken physic, is sick enough, and is no
condition to write more than is indispensable.
. In August,1847, he tells Lady Baring that 'a terrestrial Demon (one of many), named Lumbago struck his fangs through me in a moment; and here I sit!' His mother receives details: '...four days ago I got dirty rheumatism in my back, which has made me ridiculously lame for two days, but is now mostly all gone. The Matlock waters and the Buxton are of sovereign virtue for that disorder.' [He had visited Matlock for spa treatment in July] In December Jack has given him a lotion for an 'itchy ankle-spot', which helped. He blames the spot on using horsehair gloves to rub his skin, having heard they were a 'renowned invention'.
In January, 1848, he complains of being 'unslept, dyspeptic and bewildered.'
He doses himself as usual with the aid of an ingenious pill-box - a present
from Jane. He is staying at Alverstock, and not enjoying it, writing home to
Jane to tell her of: '...a huge nightmare of indigestion, insomnia and fits of
black impatience with myself and others.' He has a cold and cough in that
month, but they do not stop his smoking. HIs cough persists through the winter,
and even on 21 April Jane writes:
'I found C in a bad way, complaining of sore throat and universal misery; and
in this state nothing I could say prevented him from walking out in the rain.'
She treats him with a mustard 'blister' to the throat and he is better the
following day.
1849 passes with few complaints in his correspondence.
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