Yorkshire On This Day, Comprising 365 Historical Extracts, Red-letter Days and Customs, and Astronomical and Meteorological Data
Jane Welsh Carlyle. 1894. Letters and Memorials. Ed. Thomas Carlyle and James Anthony Froude. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons. Get it:
.If an excerpt is used in the book, it will be shorter, edited and, where applicable, translated.
To T. Carlyle, at Galway.
Benrydden: Friday, July 20, 1849.
Oh, my dear, I have been ‘packed!’ The Doctor proposed to ‘pack’ me for courtesy, and I, for curiosity, accepted. So at six in the morning, just when I had fallen into sound sleep, I was roused by a bath-woman coming to my bedside, in a huge white flannel gown, and bidding me turn out. I got on to the floor in a very bewildered state, and she proceeded to double back one half of my bed clothes and feather-bed, spread a pair of blankets on the mattress, then a sheet wrung out of cold water; then bade me strip and lie down. I lay down, and she swathed me with the wet sheet like a mummy; then swathed me with the blankets, my arms pinioned down, exactly, in fact, like a mummy; then rolled back the feather-bed and original bed-clothes on the top of me, leaving out the head; and so left me, for an hour, to go mad at my leisure! I had no sooner fairly realised my situation of being bound hand and foot under a heap of things, than I felt quite frantic, cursed my foolish curiosity, and made horrid efforts to release myself; thought of rolling to the bell, and ringing it with my teeth, but could not shake off the feather-bed; did ultimately get one of my hands turned round, and was thankful for even that change of posture. Dr. Nicol says the bath-woman should have stayed with me during the first ‘pack,’ and put a wet cloth on my head; that it was the blood being sent to my head that ’caused all this wildness.’ Whatever it was, I would not undergo the thing again for a hundred guineas. When the bath-woman came back at seven, I ordered her to take me out instantly. ‘But the doctor?’ The doctor, I told her, had no business with me, I was not a patient. ‘Oh! then you have only been packed for foon, have you?’ ‘Yes; and very bad fun!’ So she filled a slipper-bath to ‘put me to rights,’ and I plunged into that so soon as I was set loose, and she splashed pitcher after pitcher full of water on my head. And this shall be the last of my water-curing, for the present. I feel quite shattered still, with an incipient headache, and am wishing that Forster would come, and take us back to Rawdon.
Hydrotherapy can kill, really. Paddington Weighs In deals with a similar horror:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CaEysHZapJw
For some reason I class hydrotherapy with hydrophobia.
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23 January 1643: Thomas Fairfax, the Rider of the White Horse, captures Leeds from the Beast with the help of Psalm 68
30 May 1835: Alfred Austin, future poet laureate, “Banjo-Byron that twangs the strum-strum,” is born into rural splendour at Ashwood, 48 Headingley Lane, Leeds
15 April 1779: The actor John Kemble asks a society girl to be quiet during a death scene at York and is hounded by the North Riding Militia
30 January 1934: The wife of the Vicar of Weston, near Otley, has a nocturnal premonition of the death of the composer Frederick Delius
I take it that the weir here is in the same position as the current one. The church is visible in the background, but what are the other buildings to the left?
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Place-People-Play: Childcare (and the Kazookestra) on the Headingley/Weetwood borders next to Meanwood Park.
Music from and about Yorkshire by Leeds's Singing Organ-Grinder.