I have been reading some works on 19th-century views of tobacco, alcohol, tea, and coffee. Here are some notes from:
Hortator (pseud.), Simplicity of Health: Exemplified by Hortator (London: Effingham Wilson, 1829):
34. There
is, perhaps, nothing so injurious to the teeth as hot food or drinks. We should
make it a rule to take nothing above blood heat, and it would be found
generally conducive to health. Meat, if only plainly roasted or boiled, is
seldom above the proper medium; but hot tea, hashes, vegetables, soups, punch,
puddings, pies, and the like, should at least be avoided by those who value
their teeth. I have already observed that no one can be secure against the
toothache, until he can bear cold water in his mouth at any time, and it is
surprising how soon this will accomplish it. Let any person, ever so sensible
of pain by cold water in the mouth, take nothing above luke warm for a week
only, and he will prove the truth of my assertion. (p. 28)
SOBRIETY.
56. By
sobriety I mean an abstinence from intoxicating liquors, or such a discretion
in the use of them, as amounts to nearly the same thing. Of its great
importance to health, I am so convinced, that I intended to treat the subject
at considerable length in this volume. But, finding that it would extend beyond
the limits that I here propose to myself, I determined to reserve it for a
separate treatise, of which I shall merely give a kind of synopsis or sketch.
My subject
being to show the follow, the imprudence, and the impolicy of ebriety, I I have
no scruple in avowing that the immorality of it forms no part of my
consideration. That I leave to its proper place the pulpit. The sin of
drunkenness is well known, and any feeble exhortation from me, would be only
wasting my own and the reader’s time. On that point I am sure that I should
make no sensible impression. After the many excellent moral discourses that
have appeared, and the affecting expositions of this vice that are constantly
delivered by the clergy of all persuasions, I could say nothing original in a
religious view of the subject. My business is to show the injury that it does
to our health, how it mars our advancement in temporal life, how it presents us
from being independent of our inferiors, whether we are masters or agents. I
lay bare the flimsy apologies that ae made for the volatility and inexperience
of young men; I show how they can be obstinately and determinedly reserved to
the last degree upon other occasions, and some where the tenderest passions are
concerned—how they can be economical, despite of the laughs of their gayer or
wilder companions, and how nothing can shake their resolution in certain cases.
I point out how insobriety may be always avoided, and in short I exhibit
the fuddled youth in the most contemptible and degraded view, yet not more highly
coloured than it ought to be. And as for those advanced in life, I flatter
myself that, I leave them, whether married or single, as objects to be
despised, not pitied, under any circumstances. Nor do I at all confine myself
to common drunkards or ordinary tipplers, for there are many men who drink a
great deal without every being tipsy. I insist, if a man consult his health, he
should be very sparing in the use of strong liquors; and if he look to his
character, he can never maintain it with energy or proper respect, unless by
undeviating sobriety. I relate no stories of the melancholy accidents and frightful
dissenters arising from drunkenness: were I so inclined, it would be to little
purpose, for there is no one past childhood who could not fill a large volume
with narrations of similar occurrences within his own time. (pp. 42-43)
91. It will
readily occur to any one, that such things as evidently affect the head, must
be bad for this complaint. And, accordingly, when the symptoms are alarming,
those who are accustomed to take wine or spirits, is very proper certainly; but
there is a much simpler beverage, tea, that is considerably more injurious. Its
power in determining blood to the head is as astonishing as that it should have
remained unknown; and I do not hesitate to call it an important discovery.
92. The
effects of tea are very slow, and consequently the more dangerous and
deceptive. It is hardly necessary to say, that I mean strong tea—when taken
weak, it is comparatively harmless. Many years may go over without any serious
apprehensions, but all the time it is imperceptibly progressing in
accomplishing its baneful tendencies. Its effects are different according to
the various peculiarities of constitution. Some feel their nerves affected. Those
I wonder the most fortunate, because they immediately lay it to the right
cause—it being generally considered as the principal, if not the only bad
consequence from tea. Others have an occasional headache, without knowing that
it proceeds from this favourite exotic. From many, it gradually takes away the
appetite for breakfast, and in short it is the cause of many complaints with
which it is not supposed to have any connexion. But its quality of preventing
sleep, ought to be a convincing proof of its power in disturbing the head.
However, as long as it does not affect the nerves, the general opinion is, that
it is incapable of doing any other injury. I am anxious to show that this is a
very erroneous belief, and perhaps I cannot expose it better, then by relating
tow or three cases that fortunately came under my own observation.
93. A man
of a spare habit, who lived a regular and abstemious life, but who took his tea
or coffee for breakfast very strong, found occasionally an uneasy sensation in
his head, a strong pulsation of beating, something like an inclination to faint
or to go into a state of insensibility. But as it used to be soon over, and as
he was long subject to a headache, he did not much mind it. This continued for
four or five years, when it assumed a character calculated to excite the most
serious alarm. The fits, if they might be so called, increased in duration, and
intensity, so that the strongest sensations were excited by only closing the
teeth or touching the knees together. The sensibility in the head became so
delicate, that the least contact of one part of the body with another, caused a
sudden dash of what one generally calls fulness in the head, or rather
something like a violent or almost overpowering rush of some fluid or heavy body.
It required the greatest exertions to prevent his sinking under these attacks,
and he has assured me that he was often tempted to give way to them, but the
fear of “falling into nought” prevented him. Besides, being in a public
situation, the dread of exposure operated, and the possibility of awaking with
the loss of his senses. When these attacks came towards evening, he went to bed
as early as he could, finding that keeping the head motionless, lessened the
accession of flushing, But the ast time that he had it very bad, it got worse
in bed—insomuch that, util the access abated, he was afraid to go to sleep,
lest he might awaken in another world! It was then that he saw there was no
time to lose in seeking for a remedy or palliative. This he felt satisfied
could not be done by medicine, as his bowels were always perfectly free, and
yet his regularity of living left no change open, unless to discontinue malt
drink. But, as he had observed that he was never affected by taking a pint, or
even more, of porter or ale, he could expect no relief from abstaining from
them. He would have turned his attention to the strong tea and coffee that he
used at breakfast, but as his nerves remained remarkably vigorous and steady,
he dismissed that idea as altogether erroneous. In the deepest distress of mind
he half resolved at a last resource, to apply to an eminent physician, although
he knew that bleeding would be ordered, to which he had a strong objection,
believing that repetitious are, in such cases, the inevitable consequence.
Whilst in this state of appalling indecision, I fortunately saw him. After
detailing what I have just given, suspecting that his strong tea and coffee
must be the cause of his complaint, I asked if he were accustomed to take tea
in the evening, and he said very seldom. I then begged him to try and recollect
if he, latterly felt those symptoms of hurry and flushing accelerated after
evening tea, and he said that he thought he did. To me this was conclusive.
From all considerations, I was not satisfied that his strong breakfast, tea and
coffee, must be the cause of his complaint, and, by my advice, he reduced them
to one-fourth of their usual strength, which left them weak enough. The rapid
cure that this effected was astonishing. He assured me that in less than a
week, the symptoms were so completely eradicated, that, with all the efforts of
imagination, he could not perceive the slightest trace of any affection in his
head. I recommended him to go on, and not substitute milk. He continues the weak
tea or coffee, and has reduced their strength lower, in order the better to
secure himself against that horrid malady that so justly alarmed him. It is now
about two years since this occurrence. He finds his abandonment, as it may be
called, of tea and coffee, agrees admirably with him, in every respect. His
constitution seems to be completely renovated, and he has no longer a headache.
It was, no doubt, a great privation for one who was fond of taking them very
strong, and who was so moderate in other indulgences, but he considered that no
price was too high for good health. . . . Although I have scarcely mentioned
coffee, it is proper to observe that, when taken strong, it affects the head,
not perhaps so much as tea, but quite enough to show the necessity for its
discontinuance, where the other is injurious. In comparison to these, the
effects of chocolate are very light. It should not, however, be used in a
greater proportion than half an ounce to a pint and half of milk and water. (pp.
61-63, 66-68)
170. HOT
FOOD OR DRINK.—I have pointed out (34) the bad effects upon the teeth, from
taking hoot food or drink. But it is so very hurtful, generally, to the
constitution, that I think it right to notice it again. I said that nothing
should be used above blood heat, and this is the best way to ascertain the
proper standard. On going to take anything that is warm, from the spoon or cup,
let the upper lip rest in it for three or four seconds, and if it be in the
least smarted, the heat is too great. This is, besides, a polite manner of
eating or drinking, as it is, certainly, not a sign of gentility or good
breeding to transfer soft food or liquids directly or hastily from the spoon,
or the cup, at once into the mouth. For those things that are eaten with the
fork, a very small but should be first taken as a trial, and by this the proper
heat can be easily known. There is, beside constitutional objects, another
advantage in these precautions which is essential to good breeding and personal
convenience. We can never be surprised by putting into the mouth, or
swallowing, anything so hot as to cause pain or distress. What a pitiable
exhibition, in genteel company, in the writhing and contortions, after
ingulfing a spoonful of scalding soup, or to see a person contenting with a
morsel of food, turning it round in his mouth, and debating whether he shall,
in defiance of all decorum, throw it out to obtain some relief for his burning
palate! (pp. 114-15)
175.
TEA.—In addition to what has been said in chapter xiii, it is necessary to
notice another effect. There is a malady, of which I do not recollect the
regular name, through I think I have seen it called Dementiae metus, in
which the unhappy sufferer is tormented by an apprehension that he shall become
insane. He grows low-spirited, watchful, and distrustful of his own correctness
or capability upon the most ordinary occasions. This makes him be have similar
to, and exhibit the same anxiety of, a man who has been tippling and does not
wish the effects to be perceived. It no doubt arises from those irregularities
in the course of the blood to the head that have been already mentioned, and,
as this is felt, the patient, when alarmed, usually leaves off all kinds of
strong liquors, from a conviction, natural enough, that they must be injurious.
But he never thinks of lowering the strength of his tea or coffee; on the
contrary, believing them innocent, it is often increased, in order to rouse and
exhilarate him. Yet perhaps nothing can be worse in such a case. The object
should be to promote a moderate circulation and abate the secretion of blood;
and, strong tea or coffee being particularly calculated for aggravation, the
disorder too often proceeds to insanity.
I cannot
resist expressing an opinion that, of the two most celebrated persons who
flourished in the present century, one was much injured and the other lost his
life by strong coffee. Though I shall not dispute that Bonaparte died of a
cancer in the stomach, I believe that those fits of oblivion or insensibility
to which there can be no doubt that he was subject, were heightened by his
unsparing use of that fascinating beverage. The report, on posthumous
inspection, stated, that a quantity of something, resembling the grounds of
coffee were found in his stomach; but I do not mean to call in that
circumstance to aid my conclusions. I only mention it as a thing not entirely
unworthy of medical consideration.
As for Lord
Byron, I have no hesitation in saying that strong coffee caused his death. His
head was one remarkably unsuited to bear it. Let the faculty ponder well upon
all the symptoms some time previous to, and during, his last illness—let them
consider his general affections and constitution—let them condescend to reflect
upon my assertion (92), that the effects may be in progress for years, and then
it is not improbable that they would allow my observations some claim to
attention. (pp. 119-20)