Ship surgeons

[Calico Jack]

As another aside, if anyone finds [somehow] any data regarding the actual number of copies sold or used from any of these texts, it would be immensely useful. As a librarian, and not a historian [as I am the former but not the latter], I can state that in the 1600s, as today, the popularity of a book can be better measured by copies rather than by editions -- those numbers however, can be very difficult to come by.

As an arbitrary example, a volume published in three printings of 75 copies each, and sold out, can be argued to be less influential than a volume published only once, in which 3000 of the 3500 copies sold.

This is especially true prior to the rise of wood pulp paper; rag paper books could survive several owners easily, without "modern" paper's limited lifespan [rag paper really only found consistent substitutes in the mid-1800s].

So if anyone finds "print run" numbers for texts, do share [grins].

[Misson]

That's a good point.

However, I have never seen any data on how many copies of a medical book are sold. I have occasionally seen the printer's advertisement and contact info and, in one book, their catalog.

One point of clarification about book editions as I was discussing them is that this isn't the number of times the book was reprinted (although I half wonder if some of these printers even kept track of this sort of info then), it is usually when the original manuscript has been reprinted with things added to it. That is certainly the case for Woodall. I also notice that the editions are usually years, even decades apart which would seem to me to indicate that the book had some lasting effect on and use for the target audience. Sea surgeons would not be a mammoth segment of the population and the books don't read like something for popular fodder. Still, Like a textbook, if no one's buying it, wouldn't it just disappear? Why would any printer want to reprint a book that didn't sell years later? Keep in mind that most sea surgeons only went on one or two voyages as the pay was relatively small (particularly in the Navy; it was usually somewhat better among the merchants), the duty appears to have alternated between onerous and tedious and, unless you liked moving around a lot, the duty was rather unstable. Unlike sailors, surgeons had the option to practice their trade on land; land surgery was much more lucrative and relatively more stable. (Yonge talks about this in his Journal.) Plus sea surgeons were likely to have brought whatever books they had on board and taken them with them when they left, which suggests book turnover.

I got most of my info and ideas (not to mention references that I could chase down for period research) about surgical manuals from John Keevil's excellent Medicine and the Navy 1200-1900: Volume II – 1640-1714. Keevil was a British naval surgeon who turned to history when he retired. The majority of his references in that book as I recall are the BRN records. His book proceeds linearly through time and gives you an idea of how the books during the time leading up to the GAoP came about. Note that the following three quotes are also arranged by time period:

“During the first Dutch War (1652-1654] these improvements in surgical methods can only have reached the younger surgeons through lectures, observation and discussions, such as are known to have taken place after a sea fight. When the war began in 1652, only old textbooks were, with one exception, available, and so great was the demand for them that Peter Lowe’sA Discourse of the Whole Art of Chyrurgery reached its fourth edition in 1654; it had the merit, for naval surgeons, of dealing not only with surgery but with fevers and the diseases of each organ of the body. Woodall’s The Surgeons Mate remained popular, and was also reprinted in 1655, when his Military and Domesitque Surgery once more appeared as a separate book. The exception was James Cooke’s Mellificium Chirurgiae. Or the Marrow of Many Good Authors, published in 1648, which, although it was chiefly a repetition of past teaching, did incorporate some of the author’s experiences with army wounded in the Civil War.

In 1655, however, Cooke brought out a book which was to be in great demand for the next fifty years, his Supplementum Chirurgiae…wherein is contained Fevers, Simple and Compound, Pestilential and not, Rickets, Small Pox and Measels, as also the Military Chest. The range of this book is sufficiently indicated by its title. The restrictions on practice, either as a physician, a surgeon or an apothecary, were confined almost exclusively to London, and Cooke, living at Warwick, openly describes himself as a ‘Practitioner in Physick and Chirurgery’; some provincial guilds had both physicians and surgeons as members and the popularity of the Supplementum is itself evidence of the extent of general practice in the country as a whole.

The Supplementum was of particular value to sea-surgeons, whose responsibilities extended them from surgery in action to the care of seamen suffering from dysentery, typhus or the more common ailments met with in daily life ashore. Cooke illustrated hi teaching with his own case histories, which now included those of many more wounded soldiers; these intimate accounts were reassuring to surgeons, isolated in ships and confronted with similar examples of compound, comminuted fractures of the limbs, depressed fractures of the skull, concussion, and wound of the thorax or abdomen. Here they found confirmation of the teaching of Clowes and Woodall on amputation, for Cooke added nothing to the traditional technique of a circular incision after the application of a tourniquet.” (Keevil, p. 31-2)

“The sea-surgeon’s library would, at this time, only have contained Cooke’s Mellificium of 1648, old editions of Woodall and, perhaps, the now ancient but still practical surgical textbook of William Clowes. Some sea-surgeons may have had no works of reference, for when Wiseman later wrote his Treatise of Wounds he did so especially for the benefit of sea-surgeons, and declared that his ‘design was to help Sea-Chirurgeons, who seldom trouble their cabins with many books’; it would, however, have been fair to add that there were few books suited to the conditions under which sea surgeons had to treat the wounded, and only one dealing with first aid.

This was a small work by a physician, Stephen Bradwell, published in 1633, Helps for Suddain Accidents Endangering Life[/i]. Designed for those who lived far from medical help, it dealt principally with simple domestic crises, such as poisoning from food, insect stings, contusions and sprains.” (John Keevil, p. 43-4)

“Such differences as existed were in the books which were in common use by all teaching bodies. Richard Wiseman’s Several Chirurgicall Treatises of 1676 passed into a second edition in 1686, and ten years later he published his Eight Chirurgical Treatises; but Wiseman’s military experience belonged to the almost forgotten days of the Commonwealth, and the two recent wars had increased their old-fashioned quality. Like the works of William Clowes and the English translation of Pare, they in their turn were being discarded in favour of books drawing on more recent events [Emphasis mine.].

For sea-surgeons in the making the works of two new writers were proving of outstanding value. The first of these was James Yonge… His reputation as a surgeon at Plymouth dated from the recovery of one of his first patients, a seaman who fell from the topmast of a ship in harbour and fractured his skull from the crown to the ear. Such accident cases held a special interest for Yonge, and later he was to devote a whole book to describing the treatment and recovery of a case of depressed fracture of the skull with laceration of the brain. In this he showed no advance on Thomas Gale’s method [Gale, Certain Works of Chirurgie, 1586], but the bibliography may have been of value to his contemporaries , and the fifty-two references show the care with which he studied the case…

Yonge made such as examination in the case of a man who had had a bullet wound in his trachea for three years, and sent his report to Robert Hooke, secretary of the Royal Society. He was particularly interested in gunshot wounds, the problems of haemorrhage, comminuted fractures caused by chainshot, then recently introduced, and in other injuries peculiar to life at sea.

In 1679 Yonge published his most important work, Currus Triumphalis, e Terebintho. Or an Account of the many admirable Vertues of Oleum Terebinthinae…, a book with a misleading title. Far more valuable than the uses of turpentine as a styptic was the description Yonge included of the flap method of amputating. It was an account of this, given by Yonge at an informal meeting in London in 1678, which led James Pearse to urge on him the need for publication.” (Keevil, p. 154-5)

[Capt. Sterling]

Oi Mission, ever come across any detailed information about the surgery done on Woodes Rogers after he was shot in the face and the ball lodged in the roof of his mouth or his heel and ankle?

[Misson]

No, not really. There isn't much about the surgery in Roger's account that I recall. (I am in the middle of entering the relevant bits of his manuscript into my little surgeon's resource document (310 pages and counting) and haven't gotten to that part yet. It's been months since I actually read it, though. I will certainly appraise you of any info I find when I get to it again.)

There is still Edward Cooke's account of the voyage to consider. I had not planned to read it myself, although I understand Cooke's account was more clinical and less colorful than Roger's. Still, Cooke was on the Dutchess and Rogers spent most of his time on the Duke, so he may not have seen the operation. I'd read it, but I am already swamped with other books I want to read. Just now I am (finally) starting Woodall. (Actually, for the third time. The Surgeon's Mate may be the purported preeminent period sea surgeon's book according to some people, but I find it a royal pain in the arse to read. The last two times, I found it to be worse than most period books for language, spelling & word usage by a goodish stretch. This may be because it is from the early 17th century as opposed to the late 17th or early 18th as most of the books I've been reading are. [And you've heard me whine about those if you've been paying attention.] My fellow surgical re-enactors who are dying to procure this know not for what they ask...)

[Capt. Sterling]

Thanks Mission. Keep me posted. I have two accounts coming in the post in the mean time. I just think it fascinating that he could survive the wound as well as such a surgery.

[Misson]

I do recall that he was stuck in his cabin for weeks and was weak and in pain for the rest of the voyage. (There's a slightly extraordinary account of his being lifted out of the ship in his bed by some sort of rigging during a stop somewhere or another because he was too weak to disembark himself.) Rogers couldn't speak for a long time which sort of hampered his ability to control what was going on. Much against Roger's desire, they gave the captaincy of a captured ship to Physician Thomas Dover who had no sea experience but had provided a large amount of the start up capital for the voyage. I can't remember who he assigned to Dover, but there were two or three experienced seamen who basically made up for all of Dover's inexperience.

I believe there are three accounts - two full ones: Rogers own, Cooke's and one partial - Lionel Wafer's. Wafer left the voyage in the Isthmus of Darien (Central America) when his knee was wounded by a flash burn caused by a careless seamen smoking while he was drying powder.

[Capt. Sterling]

when his knee was wounded by a flash burn caused by a careless seamen smoking while he was drying powder.

Interesting...

[Misson]

Note that Wafer's account occurs before Rogers was wounded so there is nothing in his book about that. He left the voyage and stayed when the Indians when he was wounded. (It's from those same Indians that all that stuff about tattoos comes from.)

Now, as it happens, I am exactly at the point in Roger's book where he was wounded and I underlined all the medically relevant parts, so I'll just round them up and put them in here since I'm entering them into my notes anyhow.

"[Dec. 22, 1709] The Prize was call'd by the long Name of Nostra Sneiora de la Inearnacion Disenganio, Sir John Pichberty Commander; she had...193 Men aboard, whereof 9 were kill'd, 10 wounded, and several blown up and burnt with Powder. We engag'd 'em about 3 Glasses, in which time we had only my self and another Man wounded. I was shot thro' the Left Check, the Bullet struck away great pare [part] of my upper Jaw, and several of my Teeth, part of which dropt down upon the Deck, where I fell; the other, Will. Powell, an Irish Land-man, was slightly wounded in the Buttock. they did us no great Damage in our Rigging, but a shot disabled our Mizen Mast. I was forced to write what I would say, to prevent the Loss of Blood, and because of the Pain I suffer'd by Speaking...

[Dec. 23, 1709]...Our Surgeons went aboard the Prize to dress the wounded men...

[Dec. 24, 1709] ... In the Night I felt something clog my Throat, which I swallow'd with much Pain, and suppose it's a part of my Jaw Bone, or the Shot, which we can't yet give an account of. I soon recover'd my self; but my Throat and Head being very much swell'd have much ado to swallow any sort of Liquids for Sustenance." (Rogers, p. 158)

"[Dec 26, 1709] I was in so weak a Condition, and my Head and Throat so much swell'd, that I yet spoke in great Pain, and not loud enough to be heard at any distance; so that all the rest of the chief Officers, and our Surgeons, would have perswaded me to stay in the Harbour in Safety." (Rogers, p. 160)

"[Feb 17, 1710] On the 17th I was troubled with a Swlling in my Throat, which incommoded me very much, till this Morning I got out a Piece of my Jaw Bone, that lodg'd there since I was wounded."

"[June 30, 1710] 8 Days ago the Doctor cut a large Musket Shot out of my Mouth, which had been there near 8 Months, ever since I was first wounded; we reckon'd it a Piece of my Jaw-bone, the upper and lower Jaw being much broken, and almost closed together, so that the Doctor had much ado to come at the Shot to get it out. I had also several Pieces of my Foot and Heel-bone taken out, but God be thanked, am now in a fair way to have the Use of my Foot and recover my Health. The Hole the shot made in my face is now scarce discernable." (Rogers, p. 204-5)

And that's all I found. I may have missed some as I was scanning through all the underlined text; if so, I will put them up here. However, my impression is that the surgeons didn't do all that much for him based on this book. They probably dressed him after the wound occurred and just waited to see what would happen (For 7 months! Actually, this is what Woodall often suggests - let nature heal before attempting heroic surgical measures.) That way the swelling might go down enough to poke around. Remember that they had no anesthesia at this time and the patient just had to bear up for any poking or prodding.

I don't believe I underlined the bit about the chair they rigged up for him since it wasn't medically relevant. So I guess you'll have to find that passage when you read it.

Just some general comments about wounds from my reading, since you seem interested. Most wounds from cannon were a result of the splinters, not the cannon ball. Most deaths from such (and from gunshot) were from infection, especially in tropical areas. Some surgeons believed people could die from "the wind of the ball" of a cannon, being when a cannon ball passed close by someone. I haven't got any notes on that, because I thought it ridiculous when I read it, it was only in one book that had a lot of rather fruity ideas in it (the author was painting medicine as being absurd at this time) and there was no real procedure for it. But the idea is still sort of fascinating.

Burning was a common problem. Several authors comment on the fact that there was often powder scattered around the gun deck (despite the apparent danger) and with slow matches sitting around, people inevitably got burned due to carelessness. Add the fact the fire and fire-ships were considered wonderful weapons against wooden ships with sails and you have a lot of potential for burns. In fact, in the same part of the text, Rogers notes,

"[Dec 26, 1710] Then we fell a-stern in our Birth along side, where the Enemy threw a Fire-ball out of one of her Tops, which lighting upon our Quarter-deck, blew up a Chest of Arms and Cartouch Boxes all loaded, and several Cartridges of Powder in the Steerage, by which mean Mr. Vanbrugh, our Agent, and a Dutchman were very much burnt; it might have done more Damage, had it not been quench'd as soon as possible." (Rogers, p. 161)

"[Dec 26, 1710] ...we had aboard the Duke but eleven Men wounded, 3 of whom were scorch'd with Gun powder, I was again unfortunately wounded in the Left Foot with a Splinter just before we blew up on the Quarter-deck so that I could not stand, but lay on my Back in a great deal of Misery part of my Heel-bone being struck out, and all wider [while] my Ankle cut above half thro', which bled very much, and weaken'd me, before it could be dressed and stopt." (Rogers, p. 162)

My reading suggest gun shot wounds were rarely fatal as the bullets were not as lethal or fast-moving as they are today. In fact, many of the people who died of bullet wound actually died from the resulting complications of a bullet wound - particularly infection.

[Matusalem]

My reading suggest gun shot wounds were rarely fatal as the bullets were not as lethal or fast-moving as they are today. In fact, many of the people who died of bullet wound actually died from the resulting complications of a bullet wound - particularly infection.

That's exactly what the tour guides at Gettysburg say. A majority of the wounds get infected and turn gangrenous, then fatal. And if I may be so permitted to go slightly off topic, something reminded me of a bizarre situation of the french composer J.B. Lully who was performing in front of King Louis XIV whereby he accidentally impaled his toe while slamming a staff (like the ones used by bagpipe band leaders) at the ground to the rhythm of the music. The toe became infected with gangrene and he died a few months later in 1697. You get the idea in this film

I just find it amusing.

[Calico Jack]

wind of the ball

For what use it may be, the debate on wind of the ball goes back a ways, 'though more debate on what causes it, than on whether it happens.

http://books.google.com/books?id=SMaR4oNXb...esult#PPA310,M1

Just as a quick source from google books [since it it a free source][grins]. In the end, if wind of the ball was, internal bleeding and hemorrhage might have been the business.

Oh, and yes, despite what Mythbusters may say, splinters can kill. No, they don't kill instantly, anymore than bullets kill instantly. Death might be quick, but would only in the rarest circumstances be immediate.

[Capt. Sterling]

Mission can you give me the edition and printer of the Rogers book you have... mine doesn't seem as detailed and the wording is slightly different as well

[Misson]

http://www.amazon.com/Cruising-Voyage-Arou...7287324&sr=8-10

[Capt. Sterling]

Is this a straight read, strictly Rogers' writings or is it interspersed with comments by another?

[Misson]

No comments. Lots of misspellings, odd capitalizations and italizations, which I try to reproduce as faithfully as I can. (See the above text. My computer sometimes corrects things for me when I retype them in Word. I'd turn it off, but it's generally more useful than it is harmful.) I wonder if the spellings have been corrected, though. It's awfully readable, despite the little oddities and nothing I've read that is actually from period is very readable. Unfortunately, this volume doesn't even have footnotes or endnotes to explain things, which is something I generally enjoy. Reprint what you've found and let's compare - it could be educational. (Although I can't imagine it's substatively different.)

Now Barlow has been massively edited for spelling, but it's the only copy you can get as far as I can tell. I am currently reading Henry Teonge's diary where the author has inserted all his comments as endnotes and in braces, which seems the norm. However, he also has changed some of the spellings as the endnotes reveal. It's a fine line between making something readable to a modern audience and preserving the original transscript. (I just learned that Cales = Cadiz from the endnotes.) If you really want to try your patience, I'll send you a page or two of Woodall.

[Capt. Sterling]

Hmmm will need to get a copy of what you have...not that I don't appreciate some of the author's little interjections, but I want to read more of what Rogers himself actually wrote... ah to get a hand on an original first edition....

I'll take a bit of Woodall...after Chaucer in old English and Rabelais in old French, how hard can it be? (watch I'm in trouble now...snigger)

[Misson]

Well, if you're dedicated you can get the a copy of the original in the Thompson-Gale Eighteenth Century Collections Online. You'll have to locate a university with access. My experience with this collection has been less than joyous, however. From my one experience with it, that database is harder to find than the Early English Books On-Line database and they don't seem to allow you to download the .pdf for your own use. So you basically have to print the thing out (at whatever cost per page the library charges.) Still, that will give you the indubitable source doc. On the plus side, you could just print the pages that interest you.

[Capt. Sterling]

The problem being that I wouldn't be happy with a photocopy... I would want the real thing for my personal collection...wonder if they noticed it had gone missing....

Off to the Blue Whale.... see if they can track down a copy....

[Raphael Misson]

If you really want to try your patience, I'll send you a page or two of Woodall.

All right, I sort of mentioned this so I thought I'd just go ahead and do it. I skipped through to find a full page of text (as opposed to one with charts - such as charts were in this book, lists, lots of italics, pictures or whatnot). Without further ado:

Now first go through it and those of you who think I'm nothing but a complainer can yell at me because you can pretty well make it all out with a bit of work. Once you've done that and you feel all smug and superior, go back through it and try and read it as if you wanted to get through the miserable thing in a week or two instead of poring over every word and phrase to decipher it. See what I mean? (I have put this down for the third time since coming into possession of it and gone on to the English translation of Ambroise Paré's work. I can read that.)

[Raphael Misson]

Some surgeons believed people could die from "the wind of the ball" of a cannon, being when a cannon ball passed close by someone. I haven't got any notes on that, because I thought it ridiculous when I read it, it was only in one book that had a lot of rather fruity ideas in it (the author was painting medicine as being absurd at this time) and there was no real procedure for it. But the idea is still sort of fascinating.

Well now I have some notes from a more tenable source. Paré was quite a renowned French surgeon in the late 16th century, so much so that some of his works were translated into English in the 1630s by Hezekiah Crooke. From a reprint of Crooke's work, The Apologie and Treatise of Ambroise Paré:

"[1545] A little while after we went to Boulogne, where the English seeing our Army, left the Forts which they had... One day going through the Campe to dresse my hurt people, the enemies who were in the Tower of Order, shot off a peece of Ordinance, thinking to kill two horsemen which stayd to talke one with another. It happened that the Bullet passed very neare one of them, whjich threw them to the ground, and t'was thought the said Bullet had toucht him, which it did not at all, but onely the winde of the said Bullet in the midst of his coate, which went with such a force that all the outward part of the Thigh became blacke and blew, and had much adoe to stand. I drest him, and made him divers Scarifications (small, superficial cuts in the skin of an area to allow bleeding) to evacutate the contused blood, which the winde of the said Bullet had made; and the rebounds that it made on the ground, kild foure souldiers which remained dead in the place . I was not farre from the stroake, so that I felt somewhat the mooved aire, without doing mee any harme, that a little feare, which made me stoope my head very low, but the Bullet was already passed farre beyond mee.

The Souldiers mock't me to be affraid of a Bullet already gone." (Paré, p. 31)

Interesting that the soldiers were not afraid of the wind of the ball for the most part. The damage does indeed seem to have been of a bruising nature. I suppose that could be caused by the air pressure created by a hurling object, but it might also be because a round ball grazed the wounded man.

Paré also believed that gunpowder was poisonous and a bullet wound could become infected because of the poison.

[Raphael Misson]

I believe there are three accounts - two full ones: Rogers own, Cooke's and one partial - Lionel Wafer's. Wafer left the voyage in the Isthmus of Darien (Central America) when his knee was wounded by a flash burn caused by a careless seamen smoking while he was drying powder.

I am wrong here. I have just been entering my notes from Dampier into my computer and I realized that Wafer was wounded on Dampier's voyage in 1681. So forget all that about Wafer's account being part of Roger's voyage which started in 1708. (When you read several of these things simultaneously, they start to all blur together. I should always check my notes...)

From Dampier:

“[1681] Our Chirurgeon, Mr. Wafer, came to a sad Disaster here; being drying his Powder, a careless Fellow passed by with his Pipe lighted, and set fire to his Powder, which blew up, and scorched his Knee, and reduced him to that Condition, that he was not able to march; wherefore we allowed him a Slave to carry his things, being all of us the more concern’d at the Accident, because liable our selves every Moment to Misfortune, and none to look after us but him.” (Dampier, p. 20)

[Will Fiddle]

Excellent eye for detail on distinguishing the dates of the narratives. And good call on using Paré as a source on surgical techniques. I read some of his book through a clumsy database interface and am eager to get my paws on the text in a more substantial form.

[Raphael Misson]

As I have mentioned before, I am a big fan of libraries for this stuff. Beginning around 1950 there was quite a bit of fascination with re-printing surgical manuals along with introductions, footnotes and other useful material. Many libraries still have these books gathering dust on their shelves - if you can't get it from your library, check inter-library loans. These books sometimes includes modernization of language - for better or worse, depending on your inclinations. (I still say in the case of Woodall (which no one has converted to modern language) it would be better.) One nice thing about having a library copy is that you have to read it within a specified time period. I find this makes my reading and note-taking more efficient - there's nothing like a deadline to help you achieve a goal.

The version of Paré I have, called The Apologie and Treatise of Anbroise Paré appears to be the original, with all its inherent misspellings and occasionally archaic wording, yet I find it highly readable for the most part. It was printed by the University of Chicago press in 1952. I am occasionally astounded by the complexity of some of the procedures Paré describes. He goes through several ways to operate on a hernia and I wouldn't be at all surprised to find that the modern methods are similar to the ones he describes.

He also has a surprisingly naturalistic approach to medicine. In his section on wounds he says:

"The Chirurgion shall performe the first scope of curing Wounds, which is of preserving the temper of the Wounded part [while this sort of makes sense in a modern context, it is referring to humoural types], by appointing a good order of Diet by the Prescript of a Physition, by using universall and locall Medicines. A slender, cold and moyste Diet [referring to humours again] must be observed, untill that time be passed, wherein the patient may be safe and free from accidents which are usually feared. Therefore let him bee fed sparingly, especially if he be plethorick [florid; red-faced]; he shall abstaine from salt and spiced flesh, and also from wine; If he shall be of a Cholerick (a hot and dry humour - energetic) or Sanguine (a hot and wet humour - fun-loving) nature: In steed of wine he shall use the decoction of Barly or Liquerice, or Water and Sugar. He shall keepe himselfe quiet; for rest is (in [Aulus Cornelius] Celsus opinion [from De Medicina, ~40 A.D.]) the very best Medicine. Hee shall avoyde Venery [sex], Contentions, Brawles, Anger, and other perturbations of the minde. [so sex is really just a perterbation of the mind. ] When hee shall seeme to bee past danger, it will bee time to fall by little and little to his accustomed maner of diet and life." (Paré, p. 125)

While it's a bit coarse and reliant on (the medically out-dated) humoural theory, I find it interesting that diet and individual temperament and activity are so important in the late 1500s to effective healing according to Paré. In fact, I am quite enjoying this book - he appears to have a very ordered approach to his topic.

[Raphael Misson]

Now this is a really interesting comment on the updating of material from 17th century - it's from the editor who interpreted Edward Coxere's Memoirs. He got the original manuscript in the 1940s so he could publish it.

Had this work been published in its own day its spelling would have been standardized according to contemporary mode. Coxere would probably have been surprised to see it printed as he wrote it. A letter of John Woolman, written shortly before his death in 1772, is before me as I write; twice in it he writes 'midling' for the word that appears in his printed Journal as 'middling.' In offering Coxere's work to a twentieth-century public little more liberty has been my aim than would have been the case had it appeared in print at the close of the seventeenth century. (Footnote 4: When his auxiliary 'a' would almost certainly have appeared as 'have,' and phrases like 'when faier then skeard me with a Rops End,' 'but woulld rather a kept me,' 'a whimse came in his hed ordered ye vitalls,' 'I droue it so neere that made 5 pounds serue me' have had pronouns inserted.), the form of placenames used by the writer being given at the foot of the page.

Here is a page of his manuscript exactly as her wrote it, not chosen, but taken at random (p. 72 inf.)

• Thay being still disates fled Lets
  goe An Anchor The Cabell broke and
  The ship droue soe then we Run in to
  The bay to Rits whear we wear safe
  be fore ye Towne - - - - -
  We hoised out our boate and :I: as one
  of ye Company hellpt Rowed ashore
  being ashore I met with our vnder
  steereman yt was with vs when I sailld with
  my oulld Captaine he had Caused a:
  ship to be buillt for this man of 32
  gons I knowing of him spoke to him.
  with yt he knew me he presently puts -
  his hand in his pocket and gaue me
  a pistoll of goold which is 17 shillings -
  Inglish mony and coulld me I mith
  goe abord his ship and Eate & drinke -
  what ye ship did aford I Leueing him
  met with an other skiper my oulld Captens
  brother in Law [the p deleted] he Asking of me
  how I came there I gaue him an a count
  how it had feard with me with yt he - -
  toulld me he wanted a goner and said
  If I woulld goe with him he woulld
  giue me 20 gillders [A deleted] A month
  

In the fourth line the b in 'bay' has the lower loop of an f, possibly by attraction from 'be fore' almost under it. The dashes are seldom an indication of paragraph division, but mostly serve to fill up the line.

Coxere's handwriting is always legible. He employs no contractions excet 'ye' (the) and yt (that). [Note: in the book, the 'e' and 't' are superscripted,] His punctuation is hardly more than an occasional full stop, dashes being used not only to close paragraphs but to fill up lines. Sentences will start without capitals, and the indefinite article, or a verb, in the course of a sentence can bear one.

His spelling, to some extent, is probably due to his unconsciously putting down the nearest representation of his own pronunciation that occurred to him, e.g. 'debete' 'debeti' (deputy). Judged by the standards of his time, it is no more illiterate than that of members of the Verney family. His 'yeumer' (humour) and 'yeuneuerseti' (University) may be compared with Lady Wentworth's 'yousyal' (usual). As one would expect , uniformity is to seek; 'thoy' appears within a line or two of 'thy' (thigh), 'Doch' of 'Duch' (Dutch), 'care' of 'kear' (care). At the same time he presents certain recurrent features: 'har' invariably stands for 'her,'  an East Kent usage... 'they' appears as 'thay' and 'their' as ''there'; the first letter in England and English is always an I; the prefix ex always 'ax,' e.g. 'axchange,' 'axsamend,' 'axseeding' (exchange, examined, exceeding), and he will write 'Efact' for 'effect.' Almost everywhere ('the master depended on me more then on his mate' is an exception) 'on' is written 'one'; 'bin' (been), 'nite' (night), 'sae,' less often 'sa' (saw), 'sune' (soon), 'then' (than) are constant; 'very' is 'vere,' and 'carry' oftener 'care' than 'carie.' The central e in 'were' and 'where' is generally represented by ea. y often bears a diaeresis (e.g. 'boy,' 'difficulty,' 'yarns'), perhaps a relic of the writer's early acquaintance with Dutch, where if is thus treated and, incidentally, 'her' is 'haar.' He was a gunner, but always writes himself 'goner,' and though we cannot be sure he thus spoke of himself, his intonation is probably preserved in the spelling 'oy' (eye) and 'croies' (cries). Words ending in ld  generally double their l's: 'wolld,' 'houlld' (would, hold), and those ending in ght lose their last letter: 'aigh,' 'fough,' 'though' (eight, fought, thought), though 'brought' may appear as 'broth' or 'brought'; 'might' is mainly represented by 'mith'; and 'look,' 'took,' and 'stood' as and their compounds have a u instead of oo. Many words suffer divisions, e.g. 'a boue,' 'a count,' 'be stur,' and in one place 'notwithstanding' appears as three words but this proceeding need not imply that the writer spoke them so. One peculiarity of his spelling of place-names should be noted: Cadiz appears as 'Cearls, Cearlls, Kearls, Kearlls,' where 'Cales' would be expected. On this subject, Professor Wyld's words are in point: 'Many spelling diverge so widely from the traditional that they cannot be mere attempts to reproduce the "correct" forms which the writer has partly forgotten. They are obviously quite independent of the regular spelling and have an entirely different basis."

(Adventures by Sea of Edward Coxere, Edited by E. H. W. Meyerstein, p. xxvii - xxxiii)

While I admittedly find the genuine article fascinating in a perverse way (even the un-interpreted Woodall), the idea of having to interpolate all that information (which varies from writer to writer) while reading horrifies me. I personally would rather have a modernized version complete with salient footnotes than try and sift through all that. It is particularly problematic when you're trying to get the facts and ideas out of a manuscript and not primarily attempting to immerse yourself in period lore. But for those who want the full period experience, I suppose it is best advised to get the database versions of texts published during period. (Sorting out place names is going to be their main burden based on what I saw in the endnotes of Barlow's text. How you get 'Cales' from 'Kearrls' is a slight mystery to me. It would require an intimate knowledge of the places the writer was referring to and perhaps of his journeys, I suppose. Ironically, this requires you to know about his text before reading it. I guess it all comes down to what you want from your reading.

Oh, and from now on, we should call Dutch 'Doch' so that we can be sure he is period correct.

[Mission]

My but Wiseman doth wax eloquent. Ladies and gentlemen, the skeleton:

"The whole Sceleton considered joyntly, may be looked upon as performing that office to the Little world, that Atlas hath been fabulously reported to do to the Great one; it bears the whole bulk of it, and sustains it in all its motions; none of which could be performed, if either the Bones were not, or not so articulated and joynted as upon desection they appear to be. Nam st ossa abessent, non flecteremus manus, non nervos & fibras. Nay, if the least Bone be but a little maimed, the use of the part is hindred. But they are not only Fulcimenta, as Galen says, De Usu partium, sed etiam Defensio, but also a Defence. The Cranium, veluti Galea, as a Helmet defends the Brain from external injuries. So Pectus Ossibus clauditur; the Heart, Lungs, and great Vessels of the Thorax, are guarded by a Wall of Ribs. The Spina is a Balwark to the Marrow included in it: and such a defence is the Os Pubis and the Os coxæ and Ileon to the Womb and Bladder. Others otherwise serve the uses of Nature. As the three little Bones in meatu Auditorio, but firming the Tympanum, are a great help to the Hearing: the Os hyoïdes asssisteth the swallowing, by managing the Root of the tongue and the Epiglottis: the Rotula serves the motions of the Knee: and the Teeth prepare the Meat by Mastication. Not a Bone but hath its particular end set out. There was a reason of the Temper, of the Magnitude, of the Number, of the Substance, of the Situation, or the Connexion of them; the wise Creatour as much shunning superfluity as deficiency. Indeed the whole Fabrick is so full of Excellency, that it would take up much time to express it." (p. 463, Richard Wiseman, Severall Chirurgical Treatises)

*Sniff* It's like poetry.

[Mission]

John Woodall is a card! I've been entering his book The Surgeon's Mate into my computer. (The whole...damned...thing. It's that good.) and I came across a quote that made me laugh out loud. He's been describing all the instruments in the surgeon's chest in pretty vivid detail and then he put this in the middle of it [Note that Woodall is the surgeon and the surgeon's mate would be his assistant]:

“Of the Brasse Bason.

I have nothing to write concerning it, but that at the least the Surgeons Mate have one if not two, and if he finde no use for it let him sell it for good liquor at Bantham, as a Surgeons Mate lately did one of mine.” (Woodall, p. 34)