19th century medicine

The Unsung Heroes of the Frontier–and a Giveaway

by

The Unsung Heroes of the Frontier by Jill Dewhurst

Thank you for inviting me to be your guest!  Though now a historical Christian fiction author, my first profession was an RN in cardiac critical care.  Because of my nursing experience, medical subplots tend to find their way into my manuscripts.  Researching physician education in the United States during the westward has been enlightening.  When my husband studied to be a cardiologist, he invested fourteen years of post-secondary training between medical school, internship, residency, and fellowship. 

In 1820, however, only four medical schools had been established in the US:  Harvard, Columbia, Dartmouth, and the University of Pennsylvania. 

All four are located on the northern Atlantic Coast, and most graduates never strayed far from these medical centers.  Those in the frontier who truly had an aptitude for healing and helping the hurting usually had neither the resources for the arduous and expensive journey east nor the connections to be accepted into one of the four prestigious medical schools. 

Photo Credit: By J.R. Penniman – Harvard University, Francis A. Countway Library of Medicine, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10300112

In lieu of formal academic training (only two years of classes, by the way!), prospective frontier doctors would apprentice under a practicing physician, both observing and assisting, all while immersing themselves in copious amounts of reading.  By necessity, their scope of practice was much broader than the academically trained doctors in the East, for they were often the only medical practitioners in their region.  These doctors would treat everyday ailments, as well as pulling teeth, delivering babies, setting broken bones, performing surgery, administering various herbal and mineral remedies, and sometimes caring for livestock and other veterinary patients.

These doctors were the unsung heroes of the frontier, for they would be on-call day and night, ready to travel several miles if necessary.  They willingly put themselves at risk during epidemics of cholera and influenza, tending the sick when no cure had yet been found.  By necessity, much of their apothecary treatments were made from herbs, roots, and bark native to their region with the knowledge of the collection and administration gleaned from the experience of the Native Americans in their area.

One example of a plant-based medicine frequently found in historical fiction is willow bark tea, a treatment for fevers and minor pain for over 4,000 years (first recorded use was during the Sumerian civilization, then later in Mesopotamia, China, and Ancient Greece).  In 1853, the isolated active compound was discovered to be acetylsalicylic acid, and the Bayer Company purchased the patent and mass produced it.  When you read of a patient receiving willow bark tea, think Aspirin.

In my Rugged Cross Ranch series, the Harvard-trained doctor in Prairie Hills invites one of the brothers on the ranch with an aptitude for medicine to train under him.  Watching Luke grow from an eager learner of veterinary medicine into a physician and surgeon made my author’s heart swell with pride.  Luke’s compassion does not dim his fortitude to make the right decision even when it is the hard decision.  He is intelligent and well-read with steady hands and neat stitches.  He has great skill in determining a patient’s diagnosis—well, unless that patient is his wife.  Then he is rendered utterly clueless.  (Referencing a humorous moment in Heidi’s Faith)

Meet Luke Hamilton in Julie’s Joy, the first book in my Rugged Cross Ranch series. 

Many of the homeopathic remedies we have today have their roots (pun intended) in generations of well-tried tradition.  The medical side of me is pleased that many of the most common remedies are now being included in well-constructed medical studies.  One of my personal go-to natural medicines is a blend of elderberry, echinacea, zinc, and Vitamin C to boost immunity during cold and flu season.  

Julie’s Joy

WHEN JULIE’S TENACIOUS JOY IS TESTED BY LIFE-SHATTERING TRAGEDY, HER INTENSE SORROW MIGHT LEAD HER TO UNEXPECTED LOVE.

Julie Peterson had been born into a family of faith and privilege, but when her dad decided to move his family West to homestead near his sister’s ranch in northeastern Oklahoma, disaster struck, leaving Julie a nine-year-old orphan.  Rescued and cared for by a migrating Kiowa village until her uncle found her years later, Julie has learned to find joy even when navigating the inherent challenges as a blind woman destined to remain unmarried.

Buck Matthews, the second oldest brother on the ranch, has given up dreams of a family, knowing no woman would accept his heritage.  When Julie arrives on the ranch, their friendship reveals they have a great deal in common.  Would Julie be willing to accept his love?

When tragedy overwhelms Julie, will sorrow extinguish her joy forever or will her faith in her loving Father lead to hope?  Follow God’s sovereign hand through this story of faith, family, and redeeming love and be inspired to trust the One who loves us all unconditionally.

Julie’s Joy on Amazon

What is one of your favorite natural remedies?  Was it recommended by a friend or passed down through your family?  Be sure to chime in!  I’d love to meet you! You’ll be entered in a drawing for an autographed copy of Julie’s Joy and a $10 Amazon gift card to one winner.

About Jill:

Jill Dewhurst’s is a Selah Award Bronze Medalist, Christian Author Award Winner, Will Rogers Medallion Award Gold Medal Winner, and bestselling author of historical Christian fiction, Jill Dewhurst writes novels that seamlessly weave a page-turning story with the truth of God’s unconditional love. With her varied experience as an RN, a musician, and a homeschool mom, Jill creatively weaves a part of herself into each story.  When not writing, she enjoys playing her flute and thanking God for the hubby who lassoed her heart for keeps. Publishing her Rugged Cross Ranch series has been a dream come true.  http://www.jilldewhurst.com 

Insanity in the Old West

by

“On an unforgiving 1880s frontier, where secrets cut as sharp as winter winds, love must decide whether to freeze—or fight its way through the storm.”

When I began to write SUMMER’S HEART, I had no plans to include a woman who was off her rocker. It wasn’t until I decided Summer and Dan were too comfortable in their relationship. So, like authors do, I had to shake the couple up. Enter Elsie Finch with wild claims that Dan fathered her child.

Boy, did the fireworks light things up! Doubts and questions rose. I won’t give the story away but it took a while for Summer and Dan to kiss and make up. Here’s something fun for you.

 

Insanity treatments in the 19th century left a lot to be desired. Our own Mary Connealy has blogged about this several times so you might find more there. Here is the link to one: https://petticoatsandpistols.com/2022/04/21/insane-asylums-in-history/

In the east, they had plenty of asylums where they locked people with mental illness away. But husbands with wives they didn’t want soon saw how easy it was to label their excess baggage as insane and lock them up with no questions asked.

A few of the crazy reasons they gave was:

  • Imaginary Female Trouble
  • Political Excitement
  • Asthma
  • Brain Fever
  • Jealousy
  • Religious Enthusiasm
  • Reading too many novels (WHAT!!)

I kid you not. Reading novels had to be one of the lamest excuses!

Anyway, that was mostly back east. In the old West, mental asylums were not prevalent. Mostly, families tried to deal with their crazy relatives themselves. Another alternative was putting them in prisons but those conditions were horrible.

In Texas, the first institution was the Texas State Lunatic Asylum. Doctors there tried a softer approach—until it became overcrowded. A second one, the North Texas Lunatic Asylum was built in Terrell but it was pretty bad. Lobotomies, cold water immersion, beatings, and things like that. Few doctors knew how to treat them.

In my new story, I never go into what kind of asylum the one in Austin was. It wasn’t discussed and I had to get the characters onto the rescue of her little brother which proved quite challenging. I’m sure it was about the same as the others. Horrible places.

Not only did Elsie Finch provide a lot of comic relief, which the story needed to offset the darkness, it also taught Summer to trust Dan with all her heart and see that he truly loved only her.

In this snowbound 1882 Texas romance filled with frontier mystery, unexpected betrayal, and heart-pounding suspense, nurse Summer McIntyre’s world is upended when a stranger arrives through the blizzard carrying a newborn and claiming the sheriff, the man she’s set to marry is the father. As the storm seals the town under ice, Summer discovers her missing little brother is alive—and in the hands of a dangerous madwoman in the frozen hills. With rescue impossible and trust between her and Sheriff Dan Bodine shattered, Summer must uncover the truth before the storm takes everyone she loves.

Let’s chat. Do you like reading books in the season in which they’re written? A snowy blizzard in this one might be best in winter. But then reading it in summer when it’s hot might be a refreshing break from the heat. Or maybe it doesn’t matter. I’m giving away a copy (winner’s choice of ebook or print) to two commenters so be sure to leave a comment. 

Dr. Grace Danforth, a Remarkable Woman

by

Here where I live, it used to be rural only now, the town has grown up around it. That’s a long way around what I wanted to say. My power is supplied by an electric co-op company and each month they put out a short little magazine that often has very interesting articles. This month, there was one about a pioneering woman doctor.

Dr. Grace Danforth was born in Wisconsin in 1849, but she spent most of her life in Williamson County, Texas. Prior to becoming a doctor, she taught school for many years. She was the first woman accepted into the Dallas Medical Association, and she was the first woman to practice medicine in the county. She was also the founding member of the Texas Equal Rights Association that is still operating today in an effort to be accepted into what was considered to be a man’s field.

Grace quickly jumped onboard the women’s suffragist movement and fought tirelessly for voting rights, so she didn’t just twiddle her thumbs, she wanted to make a difference. And she did so much work for the advancement of women’s causes.

In 1889, this woman of such a vigorous and active mind was practicing medicine in Granger, Texas, although how much business she got, it’s hard to know. She did deliver a lot of babies and the women liked her. But overall, there was severe prejudice against her that she never really overcame despite that her brother was also a doctor in Granger.

She suffered from terrible cluster headaches and the only thing available for pain at the time was laudanum. However, she didn’t like taking it so mostly she endured it without anything even though her pain must’ve been severe.

As most historical romance readers know, laudanum was opium and alcohol, and it carried a huge risk of becoming addictive. Laudanum never failed to make patients feel better—if it didn’t kill them.

On the night of her 46th birthday, Grace got a bad migraine and desperate to get rid of it, she took a large dose of laudanum that proved fatal. She’s buried in the Granger cemetery but her name lives on. The Daily Times Herald published a nice article about her and said, “She was one of the most remarkable women in Texas history.”

I hope you enjoyed learning about her. Name another profession that was hard for women to break into?

I’m working on a new book that I can’t wait to tell you about. It’s Cade’s Quest and it’ll release August 11th. My sister Jan has also finished a new one and we’re going to release our books on the same day as a “Sisters Write” sort of thing! I know you’re going to love this story. I’ll have more in the coming months. It’s already available for preorder HERE.

Kaitlene Dee Tells About Traveling Food, Covered Wagons, and Romance!

by

Get ready for a fun time. This week, the Fillies are entertaining Kaitlene Dee aka Tina Dee and she’ll talk about covered wagons, the food they prepared on the trail, and some romance. She mentions a giveaway so don’t miss that.

In my new story, Grace, which is part of the Prairie Roses Collection, nineteen-year-old Grace loses her best friend and inherits her three-year-old daughter, Emma. It was her friend’s dying wish that Grace would raise Emma because the little girl is without any other family.

Adam begrudgingly comes to the rescue of Grace and Emma with a marriage of convenience proposal—and together, they set out to help an elderly couple of sisters move their tea shop business from one town to another in a covered wagon to carry the sisters’ precious bone china and heirloom cabinet. They head from northern California to southern California. What should only take two to three weeks travel time turns out to be a much longer trip, ripe with danger and disaster. In all this, Grace and Adam find out how much they must trust in God as He guides them into discovering that they truly need one another.

Personally, I love outdoor cooking, and writing this story was fun with all the cooking that goes on in it. I enjoyed researching foods pioneers packed and ate for their journeys. Guidebooks made suggestions to hopeful travelers on things to pack in their provisions.

But most interesting to me, was the spices. Some were used for medicinal purposes, as well as for flavoring. Some curatives that were packed were: Cinnamon bark for the relief of diarrhea and nausea and to aid against digestive issues, cloves for its antiseptic and anti-parasitic properties, and nutmeg or mace, which were used for tonics. (FoodTimeline.org –an awesome and fun resource! They refer to Randolph B. Marcy’s A Handbook for Overland Expeditions, a valuable resource manual for those traveling west).

Some folks also packed potable meat (cooked meat packed tightly into a jar, then covered with some sort of fat such as butter, lard, or maybe tallow and then sealed), and portable soups, desiccated dried or canned vegetables, powdered pumpkin, and dried fruits. These were a surprise to me since, prior to research, I pretty much thought their only options were beans, cornmeal mush, biscuits, bacon, flour, milk if they had a cow, and eggs.

On their journey, Adam used oxen to pull the covered wagon because they were strong, dependable, and able to do well on less abundant food sources. It was fun researching about wagons as well. I didn’t know the wagons carried a pail of pitch under the wagon bed. But discussing covered wagons is for a future post.

The story of Grace is a Christian marriage of convenience, pioneer romance set in the western frontier and is part of the multi-author Prairie Roses Collection. All books in the series are stand-alone stories and can be read in any order. Not all of the stories are set on the Oregon Trail, some travel across state or from one state to another, but all of the stories are romances that occur while on their covered wagon journeys. They are in Kindle Unlimited and are also available for ebook purchase on Amazon.

Next spring, I’ll be contributing two more stories to the Prairie Rose Collection. The stories will be ripe with adventure, romance, and food and I’ll make sure they satisfy your Old West reading cravings.

What kind of food would you pack to bring on a journey like this? Anything special?

Leave a comment to be entered in the drawing for an ebook copy of GRACE

Kaitlene Dee lives on the west coast, enjoys outings along the coast and in the nearby mountains, hiking, supporting dog rescues and outdoor cooking and camping. She also writes contemporary western Christian romances as Tina Dee. Kaitlene and Tina’s books can be found on Amazon.

Please feel invited to join my newsletter at and receive a free story: Kaitlene & Tina Dee’s Newsletter

Please follow me on Bookbub at Kaitlene Dee: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kaitlene-dee

A 2021 Apothecary Closet and Giveaway

by

Malory Ford

(Malory is giving away a set of all three books in the Legacy Series to one lucky winner.)

Every year around this time, my husband jokes that it’s time for the apothecary closet to make its appearance. It’s true, I was probably born in the wrong century.

I grew up in rural Alabama, but not so rural that we didn’t have doctors or hospitals. My mom is a gardener, but even she doesn’t have the fascination with growing her own food that I do. No, my fascination with food as medicine and growing herbs on my own came after my husband and I bought our first home in 2016. I started my first garden then, a 4×4 raised bed that has since grown into multiple beds boasting leafy greens in the fall and spring, root vegetables in the winter, and a bounty of all kinds through the summer.

Herbs might just be my favorite. They look beautiful, smell even better, and can be used in so many ways. I grow the usual, mint, oregano, basil, lavender, lemon balm and your general culinary and medicinal herbs, in addition to a few experiments here and there.

An herbalist I am not, and modern medicine shows itself in our home as often as is needed, but

I find that many of the common ailments that my family experiences can be calmed with an herbal tea or a salve made with something I grew in our backyard.

I tend to reach for peppermint before a bottle of OTC medication for an upset stomach, lavender and lemon balm when I’m feeling anxious, and of course my culinary herbs when my dishes need a little oomph. You’ll frequently find me running out to my kitchen garden in the middle of making dinner because I realize that something I’m growing just on the other side of the door would be perfect for the dish.

But of course, there are always more herbs than I know what to do with: enter my apothecary closet. Throughout the spring and summer, I’ll harvest the herbs from my small plot of land and hang them as bunches in the closet. Then, when they’re dry, I break up the leaves and put them in labeled mason jars to add to tea bags I purchase online and to soap and salve recipes for bug bites and general handwashing.

The best part, I get to share the wealth! Homemade herbal tea bags, homemade herbal soap, and homemade spice blends are excellent low-cost Christmas gifts that my family and friends really enjoy.

Herbs and traditional medicine show up in my books as well. Setting them in the Old West, I really couldn’t see any other option. One of my heroines is a female doctor who utilizes the herbal medicine techniques she learned from her grandmother in treating her patients. That same grandmother saves the day in an earlier book when an unwelcome scorpion shows up in the garden.

Anyone can grow their own vegetables and herbs, even on an apartment balcony. I live in a subdivision on less than a half-acre and grow much of the produce that we consume every year. My toddler frequently pulls bell peppers off of my plants and eats them like apples. We have been gifted with the earth’s bounty from our Creator, and stewarding that gift is one of my greatest joys.

Herbs as medicine can be powerful and can interact with certain medications or conditions you may have. Always consult your doctor and/or pharmacist before proceeding with herbal remedies.

 

A couple of excellent resources if you’re just getting started:

The Beginner’s Garden Podcast – https://journeywithjill.net/

The Pioneering Today Podcast – https://melissaknorris.com/podcast/

Amazon

Linda Carroll-Bradd researches Nineteenth Century Health Resorts

by

Before I started writing An Agent for Dixie, book #73 in the popular Pinkerton Matchmaker series, I had a rather contemporary view of health spas and resorts. Of course, I had read about the waters at Bath in Somerset, England, from various regency titles over the years. But those books don’t go into much detail about what people actually did while they were there. I always assumed Bath was more like a popular destination where people went to be seen or to make connections.

Public baths were popular in Roman times and were often not located at a natural hot spring. Under the level of the pool, water was heated in boilers with wood fires. The location usually had three rooms with pools of different temperatures. A bather could use each in his choice of order or soak in only one. The warm pool was called the tepidarium. The caldarium contained hot water, and here slaves would rub perfumed oil over their masters and then scrape off oil and loose skin with a knife. The cold bath, where bathers swam, was called a frigidarium. 

Over the years, public baths went in and out of fashion, related to fears of catching certain diseases, as well as times when they were seen as places where political dissidents met. In the 16th century, ancient medical texts were recovered in Italy containing information about balneology, the science of the therapeutic use of baths. Chemical composition of the water was analyzed to determine which natural spring might help which ailment. More and more, “taking the waters,” or balneotherapy, became a doctor’s directive for the patients who could afford to take time away from their daily live for “the cure.” Another reason was that doctors didn’t have other remedies, before the invention or development of modern medicines, to recommend for certain maladies. Better to prescribe something than to admit their lack of knowledge.

In the 1800s, especially in mountain locations, health resorts sprang up throughout Europe and the United States (more so in the 2nd half of the century) where thermal pools had been discovered. Some people experienced an improvement in their health by drinking the mineral waters (usually from cold springs). Others were told by doctors that the hot mineral waters helped conditions like gout, arthritis, muscle strains, skin conditions, rheumatism, and lumbago. Often, mud treatments, massage, or restricted diets became part of the regime.

Owners of the natural pools hoped people would come to the location and linger, so hotels and/or boarding houses were constructed near the thermal pools. In the grander hotels, entertainment and activities were offered for the times the guests would not be partaking of the waters. The amenities ran the gamut from nature walks to game of croquet and shuffleboard to concerts and balls, depending on the clientele. Because of the variety of offerings, some enthusiasts made a circuit of visiting several locations during the summer months.

Health resorts that appealed to the citizen possessing modest means offered camping spots or minimal shelter
and advertised the benefits of sleeping outdoors. Some churches conducted their revivals at certain resorts, and annual traditions were born. Armed with this research, I had great fun in inventing a resort town with a spa in the grand fashion of an Italian bathhouse.

Foreign diplomacy is the Zivon family business but Alexei resists the polite constraints, not lasting a year in law school. The four successful years working as a Pinkerton agent prove he was meant to follow a different path. Now, he’s faced with the biggest challenge of his career—training a female agent who has no practical skills. Alexei figures he can convince her to just observe as he solves the case, because nothing will interfere with his success rate.

Since childhood, Dixie LaFontaine lived in her older sister’s shadow but applying to become a Pinkerton Agent is her first major decision. Being matched with confident Alexei is intimidating, especially when the assigned case involves them pretending to be brother and sister at a health spa where jewelry has gone missing. Dixie has no qualms about pretending to be a French heiress needing care for her arthritis. Soon, she falls victim to Alexei’s charm and realizes that hiding her feelings might be as hard as ferreting out the thief among the spa’s clientele.
Will Dixie focus on learning the skills of an agent, or will she concentrate on turning her marriage of convenience into a lasting love? You can check the book out on Amazon.


Have you ever been to a health spa or read about them. I’m giving away an e-copy of An Agent for Liana, book #63 in the “Pinkerton Matchmaker” series.

Loner Dale Claybourne is not afraid to face down thieves, swindlers and even murderers. But he quells at having to train a female agent. Gregarious Liana LaFontaine yearns for a taste of the adventurous life of being an agent. Impulsive by nature, Liana jumps into situations she doesn’t have the experience to handle. Dale fights his growing admiration for this French beauty while keeping close to guard her safety. At odds over almost everything, the pair has to solve the mystery of who is stealing from a Virginia City saloon—a task made even harder because of the wild attraction that shouldn’t be present in a marriage of convenience.

 

Charlene Raddon: Were Those Really the Good Old Days?

by

We’re so happy to have Miss Charlene Raddon back visiting with us. She’s brought an interesting subject to talk about in addition to a giveaway at the bottom. Take us away, Charlene.

Thank you for having me. I’m so happy to be back. My image of a typical 19th-century family sitting down to supper used to include a table laden with healthy, wholesome, homemade foods. To a shocking degree, the truth is the opposite. Contamination was rife, even among foods prepared at home, on the farm or ranch. Few people understood germs, bacteria and E. coli. Foreign substances and chemicals tainted foods. By the 1840s, home-baked bread had supposedly died out among the rural poor. I find this hard to believe. But it is true that people living in small urban tenements, typically unequipped with ovens, bought their bread when they could afford it.

In 1872, Dr. Hassall, the primary health reformer and a pioneer investigator into food adulteration, demonstrated that half of the bread he examined had considerable quantities of alum. Alum lowers the nutritional value of foods by inhibiting the digestion. The list of poisonous additives from that time reads like the stock list of a wicked chemist: strychnine, cocculus inculus (both hallucinogens), and copperas in rum and beer; sulphate of copper in pickles, bottled fruit, wine, and preserves; lead chromate in mustard and snuff; sulphate of iron in tea and beer; ferric ferrocynanide, lime sulphate, and turmeric in Chinese tea; copper carbonate, lead sulphate, bisulphate of mercury, and Venetian lead in sugar confectionery and chocolate; lead in wine and cider. All were extensively used and accumulative in effect, meaning that, over a long period, in chronic gastritis, and, indeed, often fatal food poisoning.

                               

Dairies watered down their milk then added chalk to put back the color. Butter, bread, and gin often had copper added to heighten the color. In London, where ice cream was called “hokey-pockey,” tested examples proved to contain cocci, bacilli, torulae, cotton fiber, lice, bed bugs, bug’s legs, fleas, straw, human hair, cat and dog hair. Such befouled ice cream caused diphtheria, scarlet fever, diarrhea, and enteric fever. Meat purchased from butchers often came from diseased animals.

A significant cause of infant mortality was the widespread practice of giving children narcotics, especially opium, to keep them quiet. Laudanum was cheap—about the price of a pint of beer—and its sale was unregulated until late in the century. The use of opium was widespread both in town and country. In Manchester, England, five out of six working-class families used the drug habitually. One druggist admitted to selling a half-gallon of a very popular cordial, which contained opium, treacle, water, and spices, as well as five to six gallons of a substance euphemistically called “quietness” every week. Another druggist admitted to selling four hundred gallons of laudanum annually. Anyone addicted to drugs like that, should immediately contact drug rehabs near gainesville and seek their help.  At mid-century at least ten proprietary brands, with Godfrey’s Cordial, Steedman’s Powder, and the grandly named Atkinson’s Royal Infants Preservative among the most popular, were available in pharmacies everywhere. Opium in pills and penny sticks was widely sold and opium-taking in some areas was described as a way of life. Doctors reported that infants were wasted from it—’shrunk up into little old men,’ ‘wizened like little monkeys’. The nashville addiction center can help the ones that are addicted to substance just to function everyday.

And what was the fate of those wizened little monkeys? Chances are the worst of them grew up in a “sanitorium” or an asylum for the mad. After all, we can’t have rich Aunt Matilda or the preacher’s wife seeing such a child. Or the child might be put in the attic to be raised by Grandma, who’s not quite right in the head.

Kept in a drugged state much of the time, infants generally refused to eat and therefore starved.  Rather than record a baby’s death as being from severe malnutrition, coroners often listed ‘debility from birth,’ or ‘lack of breast milk,’ as the cause. Addicts were diagnosed as having alcoholic inebriety, morphine inebriety, along with an endless list of man dypsomania, opiomania, morphinomania, chloralomania, etheromania, chlorodynomania, and even chloroformomania; and – isms such as cocainism and morphinism. It wasn’t until WWI that the term “addiction” came into favor.

In the beginning, opium was considered a medical miracle used as the essential ingredient in many remedies dispensed in Europe and America for the treatment of diarrhea, dysentery, asthma, rheumatism, diabetes, malaria, cholera, fevers, bronchitis, insomnia, and pains of any sort.

One must remember that at this time, the physician’s cabinet was almost bare of alternative drugs, and a doctor could hardly practice medicine without it. A great many respectable people imbibed narcotics and alcohol in the form of patent medicines and even soft drinks. Coca Cola got its name because it originally contained a minute amount of cocaine, thought to be a healthy stimulant. A shocking number of “teetotaling” women relied on daily doses of tonics that, unknown to them, contained as much alcohol as whiskey or gin. Of course, it was no secret that men imbibed alcohol at alarming rates, and alcoholism was rampant. The result was a happy but less than healthy population.

 

 

I used this in my mail-order bride story, Forever Mine. The hero’s shrew of a wife had diabetes and treated it by drinking a tonic that promised to cure everything. It didn’t. In my book, Taming Jenna, the heroine’s missing father fell victim to dipsomania and was saved by the hero’s determination and kindness. In Thalia, Book 7 of the Widows of Wildcat Ridge Series, my heroine is in love with the town’s newspaper owner. Unfortunately, he suffers from dipsomania. It doesn’t faze Thalia though. She loves him anyway.

Is it any wonder the nineteenth century became known as “the good old days”?

What are your thoughts on this? Would you have drank Coca Cola if you knew it had cocaine in it? I’m giving away a $5 Amazon gift card plus a copy of one of these books—Forever Mine, Taming Jenna, or Thalia—to one person who comments. The drawing will be Sunday.

 

Charlene Raddon is an Amazon bestselling author of sixteen historical romance novels set in the American West. Originally published in 1994 by Kensington Books, she is now an Indie author. Charlene also designs book covers, specializing in western historical. You can find her covers at https://silversagebookcovers.com

http://www.charleneraddon.com

http://www.facebook.com/charleneraddon

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/charlene-raddon

The More Things Change, the More They Remain the Same

by

My favorite time period to write about is between 1880 and 1890. In many ways, the cowboys of yesteryear struggled with some of the same issues we currently face and that’s what makes the time period so fascinating to me.

They aren’t paying attention to each other. They’re too intent on the wireless.

For example, technology in the way of telephones and electricity changed the way people lived in the 19th century, just as new technology does today.  The Victorians even had their own Internet.  It was called the telegraph, and this opened-up a whole new world to them.

What, for that matter, is a text message but a telegram, the high cost of which forced people in the past to be brief and to the point?

In the past, our ancestors worried about losing their jobs to machinery.  Today, there’s a real possibility that robots will make us obsolete.

Sears and Roebuck was the Amazon of the Gilded Age. The catalogue featured a wide selection of products at clearly marked prices. No more haggling.  Customers were drawn to the easy-to-read, warm, friendly language used to describe goods, and the catalogue proved an instant success. Our ancestors could even order a house through the catalog and that’s something we can’t do on Amazon.

The Victorians worried about books like we worry about iPhones. We worry about screen time damaging the eyes.  Victorians were certain that the mass rise of books due to printing presses would make everyone blind. 

Then as now, women fought for equal rights.  Our early sisters fought for property ownership, employment opportunities and the right to vote. Women have come a long way since those early days, but challenges still exist, especially in matters of economics and power.

Nothing has changed much in the area of courting

Almost every single I know subscribes to at least one dating site.  These are very similar to the Mail-Order Bride catalogs of yesteryear.

Did our Victorian ancestors worry about climate change?  You bet they did! The Florida Agriculturist published an article addressing the problem in 1890. The article stated: “Most all the states of the union in succession of their settlement have experienced a falling off in their average temperatures of several degrees.  A change from an evenly tempered climate has resulted in long droughts, sudden floods, heavy frost and suffocating heat.”

Nothing much has changed in the world of politics. Today, the Republicans and Democrats are still battling it out, just as they did in the nineteenth century. We still haven’t elected a female president, though Belva Ann Bennett Lockwood tried to change that when she ran in 1884 and again, in 1888.

What about environmental concerns? Today we’re concerned that plastic bags and straws are harming our oceans.  Our Victorian ancestors worried about tomato cans. That’s because a German scientist told the New York Times in 1881 that the careless deposit of tin cans was “bringing the earth closer to the sun and hastening the day of the final and fatal collision.”

During the 1800s, horses were taken to task for messing up the streets.  (Oddly, enough, it was once thought that automobiles were good for the environment.)  Today, cattle are under fire for the methane in their you-know-whats. Oh, boy, I can only imagine how that would have gone over with those old-time ranch owners.

We have Coronavirus, but that’s nothing compared to what our ancestors battled.  The 1894 Hong Kong plague was a major outbreak and became the third pandemic in the world. The rapid outbreak and spread of the plague was caused by infected fleas. Repressive government actions to control the plague led the Pune nationalists to criticize the Chinese publicly. Sound familiar?  The plague killed more than 10 million people in India, alone. 

As the old saying goes, the more things change, the more they remain the same.

Reading how people in the past survived and, yes, even prospered during tough times inspires me and gives me hope for the future.  I hope it does the same to my readers.

This list is nowhere near complete, but what did you find the most surprising?

Attorney Ben Heywood didn’t expect to get shot on his wedding day–and certainly not by his mail order bride.—Pistol-Packin’ Bride/Mail Order Standoff collection.

Amazon

B&N

 

Old-Time Surgeons & Modern-Day Robots ~ Pam Crooks

by

As I write this, I’m recuperating from hernia surgery.  I’ve always been blessed with excellent health, and this was my first surgery ever.  Needless to say, I didn’t know what to expect after they wheeled me out of the operating room. 

But I admit to an undying gratitude for modern-day medicine.  In my case, the surgeon was very skilled, he commonly does hernia surgery, and recovery is faster than it’s ever been. In fact, my paperwork listed the procedure as “Robotic assisted laparoscopic bilateral inguinal hernia repair.”

Quite a mouthful, isn’t it?  But one word should jump out at you.

Robotic.

That’s right.  My surgeon used a robot to help him fix my hernias.

Oh, my, my, my.  What a far cry from surgeries in the 19th century.  While researching with the assistance of Doctor Google (hey, who doesn’t run to Google when they need a little self-diagnosing?) I came across an interesting story that I’d love to share with you.

Dr. Ephraim McDowell was a respected frontier surgeon in Kentucky in the early 1800’s when he traveled to a primitive cabin to examine 45-year-old Mrs. Jane Crawford, who, due to her protruding stomach, believed she was pregnant with twins.  However, after examination, Dr. McDowell determined Jane wasn’t pregnant at all, but instead carried a massive tumor in her abdomen.  He advised her he would attempt to remove the tumor, but she had to ride to his home in Danville where he had surgical tools and medical staff to help.

Mother of four children, Jane was forced to make the decision whether to have the surgery and risk death–or keep the tumor . . . and risk death.  After what must’ve been great angst, she left her children with her husband and traveled alone by horseback SIXTY miles through treacherous Kentucky wilderness to the surgeon’s home.

Yikes. 

Once she arrived, he bade her rest several days for stamina to endure the ordeal, er, operation. He often performed his surgeries on Sundays so that the prayers offered at his church would be with him. Indeed, he carried a special prayer in his pocket for divine intervention as he performed the surgery.

Now, mind you, they did not have anesthetic in those days. While poor Jane relied on uttering her psalms for strength, Dr. McDowell relied on two medical assistants and a nurse to hold her down while he made a twelve-inch incision in her belly.  Immediately, her intestines spilled forth, forcing him to turn her over onto her side to get them out of the way so he could delve deeper–and see what he was doing!–to remove the tumor.

Well, after twenty-five agonizing, perspiring but steady-handed minutes, he succeeded. The tumor was out and weighed TWENTY-TWO POUNDS.  

Five days later, she was strong enough to make her bed.  By the end of three weeks, she climbed back onto that horse and made the arduous sixty-mile journey through that Kentucky wilderness to return to her family.

What a joyous reunion that must’ve been, eh?  She went on to live another 32 years.

Later, Dr. McDowell was named the “Father of Abdominal Surgery” and was known for cleanliness while he worked, a factor that no doubt helped many of his patients to live.

For me, it was just my husband and a nurse in the recovery room after the 90-minute procedure.  Afterward, he made a five-minute drive in an air-conditioned car to take me home. 

What a difference a couple of centuries makes, eh?

Needless to say, I’m happy to live in this day and age with its medical marvels.  I’ll be the first to admit I’m no Jane Crawford.  I’m pretty sure I’d be a sniveling wimp if I’d had to go through what she did!

How about you?  Have you had a surgery before?  Two or three?  Are you a wimp when it comes to pain?