Scurvy: How a Surgeon, a Mariner, and a Gentleman Solved the Greatest Medical Mystery of the Age of the Sail by Stephen R. Brown. Is this historical text about medicine and the British navy "the definitive history of scurvy" as a reviewer describes it? I would say no--the discovery of the cause of scurvy was relegated to a few paragraphs in an epilogue. Nonetheless, it is an interesting account of how British physicians around the 1700s tried to find a cure to a deadly affliction found in sailors.
The reader is immediately plunged into the horrifyingly unsanitary world of sixteenth century sailing in the first chapters. Although not unnecessarily repetitive, Brown paints a disturbing picture of inadequate diet due to poor food preservation techniques and a penchant for purchasing food in quantity instead of quality. Lack of hygiene and disease was rampant. And because mortality was so high for sea occupations, the naval bureaucracy decided to impress more sailors into service to make up for the men lost. Unfortunately that compounded the problem--more crowded ships equaled faster spread of disease and more deaths.
Despite the British military and government's refusal to acknowledge that the health of one's sailors was critical for success in maritime matters, several physicians and naval commanders tried to find the cure to scurvy--which from the 16th to 18th century was the major disease in crews that served on long voyages. Three of these men profiled in this book are James Lind, James Cook, and Gilbert Blane. James Lind was a young naval surgeon who performed the critical Salisbury experiment. Under controlled conditions, Lind showed that a diet containing fresh oranges and lemons was the best cure for scurvy. Unfortunately, Lind's results were initially ignored because of his lack of social standing, his contradictory claims against more well-known and influential doctors, and his lack of understanding for what caused the disease.
James Cook, famous for his explorations of New Zealand, Australia, and the fringes of the Antarctic (as well as ending rather gruesomely with his dismemberment in Hawaii), was also noted for the fact that his crew never died from scurvy. Before setting out on his missions, Cook's ships were outfitted with several kinds of scurvy cures. Part of his mission was to test the efficacy of these cures. The journals Cook and his officers kept, however, were rather muddled and inconsistent leading to further delay for a workable cure. It was only until Gilbert Blane--a gentleman and a naval physician--used his considerable social clout to convince the British bureaucracy that citrus fruits should be used to prevent scurvy. One would have to note, however, that it was only until John Pringle's death did Blane's suggestion really take hold. Pringle held considerable influence as the president of the Royal Society and had no qualms about advocating his own pet cure--wort of malt--as the sailor's panacea.
Finally with the cure in hand, preventing scurvy became a major factor in the British naval victories during the Napoleonic Wars. Because sailors no longer developed the disease on long voyages, in the nineteenth century, Britain was able to blockade the French fleet virtually indefinitely. Scurvy is a worthy read--but obviously geared more toward the British naval buffs than those interested in historical science.
