Edwin Chadwick |
Edwin Chadwick’s 1842 The
Report on the Sanitary Condition of the Labouring Population of Great Britain was
published in response to a devastating cholera epidemic, a ghastly disease that
through convulsive vomiting and diarrhea could consume the body within twelve
hours. Although by the 1870s it was known that cholera was transmitted from the
germs of diseased people and the ingestion of contaminated water, the dominant
theory of the time, tenaciously ascribed to by Chadwick and other
luminaries such as Florence Nightingale, was that miasma (the effluvium from
putrefying matter) was the source of the disease. His anti-contagion hypothesis
postulated that the stench redolent of “poisonous exhalations,” emanating from
decaying open cesspools, garbage, twelve feet dung heaps, rotting dead rats,
and the filth floating in the river could be dissipated with the removal of the
animal, vegetable and human filth. Combine the ventilation of homes with the
fixing of the drains and disease would ‘almost entirely disappear’ and
destitution along with it. Chadwick warned that unless this faith was adopted,
England would be confronted with “natives of an unknown country,” a large
section of the working population inhabiting this abysmal environment. A
magistrate substantiated his words by musing that if empty caskets were placed
on the streets, they would soon be occupied “by a race lower than any yet
known.” Chadwick particularly singled out the racially alien Irish for their
intractable dirtiness and associated them with disease, criminality and
political subversion. According to one historian, the cumulative effect of
these sentiments was the dehumanization of a section of the population. Since
“the condition was so much worse than the reader could presumed to have
witnessed—hence the unknown country metaphor—the report had the effect of
reducing the natives of that unknown country to the status of foreigners or worse savage’ and animals.
When Chadwick wrote, “offensive smells are true warnings of sanitary evils to the population,” he
was not only documenting a health problem: he was also identifying a social and moral issue. As an enlightened environmentalist, presiding over the powerful General Board of Health, he believed that hygienic reforms could improve the lives of the poorest. Those reforms included providing all with potable water, efficient waste removal and decent housing to reduce infant mortality and shortened lives. He had concluded that overcrowding and ordure were responsible for the criminality and moral degradation of the poor who reeked of sexual promiscuity, incest, and prostitution. People forced to endure a more intimate and physical contact—parents and children sleeping on the same bed and its attendant voyeurism, and awareness of body odor—would inevitably contribute to a heightened sensuality even among the very young. Although his linkage of pestilential smells and disease with physical invasiveness suggests a moral turpitude, in the early nineteenth century, Chadwick’s focus resided with the relationship between the cloying stench and life-destroying illnesses, given that there were cesspools under 200,000 houses. Despite his own predilection for the miasma theory, he quoted a doctor who describes how an individual can be infected:
[T]he direct introduction into
the system of decomposing and putrescent animal matter is capable of producing fevers and inflammations…while
the instances in which human beings are seized with severe and fatal affections
from the application of a dead animal body to a wounded, punctured, or abraded
surface, sometimes when the aperture is so minute as to be invisible without
the aid of a lens, are of daily occurrence.
John Snow |
This breakthrough was all the more remarkable because it was
made before Louis Pasteur and John Koch in the mid-1870s had shown that
invisible bacteria caused diseases such as cholera and flew in the face of
medical dogma, which held that a harmful miasma—"a wandering ferment"—must
be triggering the disease. They reinforced Snow’s findings that contagious
diseases were transmitted through the water supply.
Stoker infuses into his novel the old discredited miasma
hypothesis that decaying corpses transmit diseases and the germ theory. Dracula
is infused with malodorous odours and invasive bites associated with disease,
decay and moral degradation. Dracula’s pungent breath causes Jonathan Harker to
be overcome by “a horrible feeling of nausea”; he is greeted by “a deathly
sickly odour” when he approaches Dracula’s tomb. All of Dracula’s dirt
resting-places reek of overpowering stench “strongly suggesting decomposition
and defecation—to a Victorian reader, the airborne infections of cemetery
effluvia and bad drains.” Dracula’s
assault on Lucy “the little punctures in her throat…tiny though they were”
could be interpreted as her inoculation with a septic poison that was
responsible for her illness and ultimate retreat into the undead. Her moral
contamination is registered through her carnal and nonspiritual demeanour as
“her eyes blazed with unholy light” and with “sparks of hellfire.”
In both
Chadwick’s Report and in Dracula, there is a connection between
overwhelming stench and fatal diseases. The memories that the young Stoker
absorbed from his mother, who experienced first-hand the horror of the 1832
cholera in Sligo such as premature burials, insulated themselves into her son’s
literary imagination. That he requested years later his elderly mother to recall
them, so that he could record them, sustains the interpretation that he was
fascinated by the myth of the living dead and that Dracula could be perceived
as the carrier of the plague. By the time that Dracula was published in 1897 defilement, especially of women, when
infected by foreign matter was still a common belief. But improvements in urban hygiene as a result
of the sanitation changes by the 1860s including the construction of sewers and
the growing repudiation of the miasma theory shifted the fear of pollution from
physical and medical to a moral and psychological dread.
Death grips Sligo |
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