Analysis: a collection of letters from patients with sexually-transmitted infections gives a unique insight into the sexual history of Ireland
By Lloyd (Meadhbh) Houston, University of Alberta
In existing histories of medicine and sexuality in early 20th century Ireland, the voices of ordinary people are often conspicuous by their absence. This is particularly the case where sufferers of sexually-transmitted infections (or, as they were termed at the time, 'venereal disease’) are concerned.
However, there's a rare exception to this archival vacuum: the correspondence of Dr Thomas Percy Claude Kirkpatrick, one of Ireland’s foremost specialists in venereal disease of the period. The letters are held by the Royal College of Physicians of Ireland Heritage Centre.
Sent to Kirkpatrick by current and former patients from across Ireland, Britain, the United States, and Canada between 1924 and 1947, the correspondence challenges a range of assumptions about the sexual life of the Irish and the levels of knowledge and agency enjoyed by venereal disease sufferers in the period.
Patients wrote to Kirkpatrick for a variety of reasons. Almost half of the letters concern medical issues (symptoms, prescriptions, test results), but many are emotional or social in focus, updating Kirkpatrick on the correspondent’s well-being, gossiping about friends and family, or expressing anxieties they feel only the doctor is equipped to understand.
Letters from younger male sufferers strike a familiar, even matey tone, invoking a shared code of masculine understanding to solicit advice (and, more covertly, emotional support). A Wexford man addresses Kirkpatrick ‘Fraternally’ to ask ‘if it would be injurious’ for him ‘to continue to take a drop of stout or whiskey now and again’ as he is ‘fond of some’ and it helps to alleviate his symptoms. In another, a recent male émigré confesses to being haunted by the fear that his condition can never be cured, and thanks Kirkpatrick for his ‘broadminded’ attitude concerning the ‘human failings’ and ‘d ed foolish’ conduct which led him to require treatment.
Almost half of the letters concern medical issues, but many are emotional or social in focus
Kirkpatrick’s older female correspondents were equally willing to emphasise aspects of their identity for strategic reasons. In one series of letters and cards, a woman who identifies herself as ‘Noleen’s Mammy’ addresses Kirkpatrick as ‘Dr Understanding Heart’ and signs her missives with a trio of kisses. Beneath this quasi-flirtatious performance of matriarchal affection, there is a real sense of trust and emotional dependency, that becomes particularly apparent when she discusses being admitted to the Marie Curie Hospital for Cancer and Allied Diseases in London:
Im [sic] here all on my own ad and [sic] don’t know what to do[.] they won’t understand if I write home as you know their cure was a good swim and a long walk, but I know you will understand every thing and if you can at all I know you will help me[.]
The most direct and forthright letters in the collection are sent by young, working-class women
Describing her condition (cervical cancer) and her experience of radiotherapy, she explains that the only comparable sensation was that of birth pangs: ‘It was just like childbirth pains[,] nothing else would describe it to you.’ As this combination of a maternal persona, a flirtatious tone, and the embodied language of child-bearing illustrate, Kirkpatrick’s older, female correspondents could play on multiple codes of femininity to solicit advice, support, and companionship.
Perhaps surprisingly, the most direct and forthright letters in the collection are sent by young, working-class women. One writes to request ‘a few lines to sertify [sic] that [she] had to be treated’ for venereal disease as ‘things are not right’ between her and her husband and she is ‘taking steps to obtain a separation’ from him.
As divorce was functionally impossible in Ireland at the time, she was presumably pursuing a civil separation without right of remarriage as a result of having been infected by her husband, who had either been unfaithful or misled her concerning his sexual history. What is striking about the letter is that, despite the personal and legal difficulties she is facing, the author communicates her request in a matter-of-fact tone that reflects only a strong and pragmatic desire to separate from her husband.
The experiences of venereal disease sufferers in early 20th century Ireland were far removed from received notions of the Irish as an infamously repressed and 'pure-minded' people.
Another correspondent sends Kirkpatrick a string of letters in which she implores him for advice following a recurrence of Pelvic Inflammatory Disease. In precise technical language, she describes her symptoms (cramps, vaginal pain, ‘discharge’), discusses the condition’s effects on her ‘monthly periods’, and outlines the regime of personal hygiene she has followed (‘a change of lodgings’, ‘new underclothes’, ‘disinfect[ing] everything’), entreating him to advise her whether ‘further douches and injections’ will be necessary. Her clear understanding of her own anatomy and firm command of relevant medical terminology – both unusual for the time – reflect the transformative effect that diagnosis and treatment have had on her knowledge and self-understanding.
As these letters suggest, the varied experiences of venereal disease sufferers in early 20th century Ireland were far removed from received notions of the Irish as an infamously repressed and ‘pure-minded’ people. The sufferers who wrote to Kirkpatrick discussed their conditions confidently and without squeamishness. They placed substantial trust in him, setting equal store by his medical expertise and emotional intelligence.
However, they did not do so passively or out of blind deference to medical authority. They strategically emphasised aspects of their gender, class, and age to shape Kirkpatrick’s perception of them and to garner practical aid and pastoral support. In the process, they left behind a rich archive of personal testimony, the surface of which this article has only scratched.
Dr Lloyd (Meadhbh) Houston is Canadian Institute of Health Research Banting Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Alberta. For a fuller discussion of these letters, check out their chapter in Patient Voices in Britain, 1840-1948 (Manchester University Press, 2021).
The views expressed here are those of the author and do not represent or reflect the views of RTÉ
