American Scientist

To the Editors:

In his article on Charles Darwin (“The Impish Side of Evolution’s Icon,” March–April), James Costa says, “Darwin became something of a homebody following his return from the epic Beagle voyage as a young man….” It is well known that he suffered from mysterious ill health for the rest of his life; I read somewhere that it was suspected that he picked up some exotic infection (perhaps Chagas disease) in South America during the voyage of the Beagle, which was the cause of his recurring ill health, but that the enforced semiretirement that this state of health necessitated provided him with the solitude that enabled him to work on his theories. Any comment?

Roger Riordan
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

Dr. Costa responds:

The nature of Darwin’s chronic illness has inspired a great deal of speculation and medical sleuthing. The Chagas disease hypothesis was advanced in 1959 based on some of Darwin’s symptoms and his account (in Voyage of the Beagle) of being bitten by the trypanosome’s vector, a triatomine bug. But other aspects of Darwin’s illness are not consistent with Chagas disease, and likewise some of the expected lifetime effects of that disease were not exhibited by Darwin. A succession of alternative diagnoses have come out in the ensuing 50 or so years, from purely psychogenic and allergy-based disorders to Crohn’s disease and mitochondrial dysfunction. We may never know. Darwin sought treatment periodically at “hydropathic” establishments, sometimes to good effect for a time, but one wonders if the regimen of cold-water dousings and wrapping in cold, wet towels was a case of cure-by-distraction.

Regardless of its precise nature, Darwin’s ill health affected his work and family life in subtle and overt ways. Daily rhythms of home life were adjusted to accommodate him, especially when he was unwell or during periods of enforced rest, and his illness became a convenient excuse that he used to regulate social interactions of all kinds. Although Darwin often complained of time lost to ill health, his productivity was astounding by any standard.

The rituals of Darwin’s ill health and his care seemed to become a way of life that the kids and grandkids emulated. Darwin’s granddaughter Gwen Raverat observed in her 1952 memoir, Period Piece, that “in my grandparents’ house it was a distinction and a mournful pleasure to be ill. This was partly because my grandfather was always ill, and his children adored him and were inclined to imitate him; and partly because it was so delightful to be pitied and nursed by my grandmother.... At Down, ill health was considered normal.”