This article was first published in the Review of the Pre-Raphaelite Society. It has been slightly adapted and formatted for, and illustrated from, our own website, with the author's and the Society's permission. Find out more about the Pre-Raphaelite Society on our dedicated page for it, here. — Simon Cooke
t has never been a secret that the second half of Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s life was coloured by his addiction to the drug chloral hydrate (Cl 3 C-CH(OH) 2 ). Even in his earliest biographies, such as Joseph Knight’s 1887 Life of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, writers were very open about his problems: ‘In those long nights of insomnia which grew increasingly frequent, he dwelt upon the cruelty and the outrage to which he held he had been subject, and the resort to chloral hydrate grew correspondingly easier and more constant’ (143).
Portrait of Dante Gabriel Rossetti at 22 years of Age, by William Holman Hunt. [Click on the image to see more information about it, and to enlarge it.]
Rossetti’s famously unpredictable health and temperament were recently in the spotlight with the newly published letters held at the Lady Lever Art Gallery where Rossetti gave a catalogue of excuses for his inability to finish a painting for his patron George Rae in 1868 (Ferguson). They included giddiness, constant diarrhoea and other ‘troublesome symptoms’ The fact that Rossetti gave a myriad of excuses even before he tried chloral hydrate has caused some to downplay the effects that the drug had on his work and relationships, and have it as a symptom of his ‘Rossetti-ness’. However, there is a case to be made that the drug had a more profound effect not only on Rossetti but on those around him, especially his model, muse, and lover, Fanny Cornforth (1835–1909).
In this connection it is important to understand the drug. Chloral Hydrate, it was discovered by Justus von Liebig (1803–1873) along with chloroform (to which it is closely related) in 1832. Whilst chloroform enjoyed relatively speedy popularity as a general anaesthetic (used by James Young Simpson (1811–1870), Queen Victoria’s doctor), the uses of chloral were not easily as grasped until Oscar Liebriech (1839–1908) experimented with it as a sedative during the 1860s. It did not become available until around 1869 and was not included in the British Pharmacopeia until 1874, where it was suggested to have no ill effects (Dyke 1091).
As has been repeated in Rossetti’s biography from the earliest efforts onwards, William James Stillman (1828-1901), journalist and husband of Marie Spartali Stillman (1844–1927), introduced Rossetti to chloral in 1870 whilst at fellow artist Barbara Bodichon’s (1827–1891) home Scalands in Sussex. Elizabeth Luther Cary in her 1900 biography The Rossettis: Dante Gabriel and Christina noted not only Stillman’s role as provider but also the defence Stillman produced in 1898, presumably after much speculation on his role in Rossetti’s downfall and demise (153). In a letter to The Academy in March 1898, Stillman reflected on Rossetti’s ill health when he first met him: "I advised trying chloral which I had been using under the advice of my physician, and I gave him of my own supply twenty grain dissolved in three ounces of water, a tablespoon to be taken three nights in succession, and then no more until three days had elapsed" (333).
As a foreshadowing of Rossetti’s treatment of the medication, he forgot until the third day then took all three doses at once which resulted in a short but deep sleep followed by insomnia, one of the conditions he was endeavouring to relieve. According to Stillman, Rossetti was not impressed by the drug and did not repeat the dose under him, yet later sought out the drug again on prescription, and his journey with addiction began.
Medicine Chest, c.1830, Mahogany and brass. © Image courtesy of Manchester Art Gallery, licensed under CC0. [Click on the image to enlarge it.]
At this point in the early 1870s, the addictive quality of chloral was not fully appreciated, let alone the side effects. Rossetti used laudanum until 1872 when he attempted an overdose, so arguably his change to chloral might have been welcomed by friends and family. The clarity of Stillman’s narrative of his part in Rossetti’s addiction history is very telling as he clearly states that he gave Rossetti 20 grains in water. By portioning the three ounces of water into tablespoons, you would end up with around 5 tablespoons for the 20 grains, therefore 4 grains in each dose in water. Each grain of chloral weighs around 0.06g, so the dose prescribed by Stillman was 0.25g, which is well within the modern cautiously recommended dose of between 1 to 2g (Cannon 185).
One of the reasons that chloral became popular was the speed with which it acted, effective in under half an hour with a half-life of up to 10 hours, so again, Stillman’s once-a-day policy was sound. The problem was that from the very first, Rossetti showed no consistency in taking the drug, or respect for it, taking all 20 grams at once (which was over 1g) and feeling the full effects in a less than gentle manner.
Another issue arose when Rossetti began to mix chloral with alcohol, not water, a combination later notorious as a ‘Mickey Finn’ – knock-out drops favoured by criminals to incapacitate their victims. Alcohol increases the impact of chloral on the central nervous system rendering the effects, and side effects, more damaging and powerful. William Michael Rossetti explained the combination: "My brother found [chloral] nauseous, and after a while not so efficacious as he wanted. Therefore, strictly as he had been warned by the best medical advice against any tampering with spirits, he took drams of neat whisky in immediate sequence to the chloral […] I have often surmised that this misuse of spirits was at least as noxious to him as the chloral itself" (288).
His initial dosage was 10 grains washed down with whisky, which was rapidly increased to the point that Thomas Henry Hall Caine (1853–1931) wrote that Rossetti boasted that he took 180 grains a day (around 11 grams, plus alcohol to increase the effect, 229). This might have been either hyperbole or confusion on Rossetti's behalf, as Dr John Marshall (1818-1891), Rossetti’s physician, ensured that the pharmacists diluted the chloral before dispensing it; but this still amounted to dangerous habit.
Rossetti's Portrait of Woman (Fanny Cornforth) with a Fan, 1870. [Click on the image to see more information about it, and to enlarge it.]
My interest in Rossetti’s chemical habits stems from my interest in Fanny Cornforth, not least the confusion and antagonism of the last year of Rossetti’s life. Much of what was written about Fanny in the immediately subsequent years, repeated by Rossetti’s later biographers, stems from these last encounters. In re-examining those final months of Rossetti’s life, a myriad of contradictions and dire consequences because of chloral misuse become apparent.
By 1881, Fanny had married John Bernard Schott (1837–1891) and become the landlady of the Rose Tavern in Jermyn Street, yet still acted as a combination of Rossetti’s servant and intimate friend. Her place as his constant companion was taken by Thomas Hall Caine in the late summer of 1881 but she was unexpectedly included in a holiday to the Vale of St John near Keswick in September for a holiday. It is not entirely clear what Rossetti’s aim was in taking the holiday or Fanny’s role in it; over their twenty-five-year relationship, there is only one other documented trip taken together, Paris in 1865, but that is vastly outweighed by the number he took either alone or in the company of others.
What is clear from Rossetti’s letter to close friend, poet and critic Theodore Watts-Dunton (1832–1914) is that he felt optimistic and determined in the matter of his health. On the 1st October he wrote to Watts-Dunton ‘I have considerably decreased the drug with Fanny’s assistance’ (qtd. in Fredeman 9:629). The plan was to reduce the amount taken and the frequency. Her assistance with this might have also been behind a rumoured change proposed by Rossetti to his will. He wanted to make sure she was well provided for, but that sentiment was squashed by Hall Caine, who viewed Fanny as ‘an authentic and undeniable trollop’ (qtd. in Fredeman 9: 721 –722).
Hall Caine also derailed Fanny and Rossetti’s efforts with chloral withdrawal by filling the chloral bottles with water in an attempt to cure the addiction. This action resulted in the breakdown in trust between Rossetti and his companions and the group returned to London, and presumably Rossetti to his original dosage with an added level of distrust and paranoia.
Another potential result of this action might have had much worse implications for Rossetti and Fanny. In medical handbooks there are words of extreme caution about withdrawal of chloral addicts from the substance. When physician Henry Carr Maudeley (1859–1944) substituted morphia and laudanum for the pernicious chloral in a patient, which was decreased in gradual amounts, the withdrawal effects included night terrors and waking hallucinations. A sudden withdrawal was never a safe option as the side effects were worse, including delirium, seizures, and death (Cannon 185). Although, no doubt, well-intentioned, Hall Caine’s secret withdrawal of chloral might have had fatal consequences. One can imagine a situation where this was combined with Rossetti's successfully managing to change his will in Fanny’s favour. It is reasonable to see how Rossetti’s public claims against her, coupled by the resultant bad opinion of others, especially the family, held against Fanny might have led to suspicion, if not actual charges, against his unlucky mistress.
The final act of Fanny’s relationship with Rossetti was an unpleasant and baffling exchange in November 1881. Rossetti accused Fanny of spreading slander against Watts-Dunton to which Rossetti claimed Watts-Dunton was preparing legal action. Her partner in this affair was an elderly artist, Samuel James Bouverie Haydon (1816–1891), both of them conspiring against Rossetti and his friends. Rossetti declared: ‘Utter ruin is impending for yourself and Haydon if all this evil-speaking against Watts-Dunton is not stopped at once. He proposes a criminal prosecution & I shall be compelled myself to appear in the witness-box on his side’ (Fredeman 9:643). To Haydon, Rossetti was even more explicit: ‘You know of the querulous mood I get into when I am out of sorts, complaining I am grieved to say sometimes of my best friend […] you also know [Fanny’s] animosity against Watts-Dunton is simply because he refused to make a will giving my property to her’ (Fredeman 9:648).
The last letter existing between Fanny and Rossetti was a tirade from him over Watts-Dunton and the words he could not even remember saying: ‘You took a mean advantage of my shattered nerves (brought on I must say by the whisky you gave me) to put words into my mouth against Watts (supposing that I ever said them at all which I don’t believe)' (qtd. in Fredeman 9: 649–650). The year ended with Fanny cast out and Haydon welcomed to New Year drinks without any mention of the recent arguments. It is uncertain whether Fanny was reconciled with Rossetti before his removal to Birchington in February 1882 and death in April of the same year.
The concern we should have in the biography of people connected with Rossetti at this time is that his behaviour and words are not examined critically in the light of his chloral use. The narrative that in the latter years Fanny attempted to kill the golden goose while conversely reaping the eggs is an oft repeated one. For example in Helen Rossetti Angeli’s 1949 Dante Gabriel Rossetti, His Friends and Enemies, Angeli observes: ‘On the one hand she secured all the portable objects of value she could obtain and on the other – whether by wicked design or ignorant good nature – encouraged Gabriel in his chloral and other excesses’ (220). Angeli also compounds all the perceived evils into one group, those of Rossetti’s habits of worship ‘Fanny – chloral – whisky – and heaven knows what else beside’ (173), which cemented Fanny’s role as enabler and partner rather than victim of chloral.
Thus, the narrative of ‘Fanny the Destroyer’ grew as her perceived role as the older, ailing Rossetti was taken from his own words and those of friends like Hall Caine. Fanny became the personification of all that destroyed Rossetti, which was admittedly easier for friends and family to accept than blaming the man himself or admitting to their own enabling behaviours.
The role of chloral is a nebulous one in determining how we understand the seeming destruction of Rossetti, a man described by Edmund Gosse as ‘a point of fire […] to sit in isolation and to have vaguely glimmering spirits presented to him for complete illumination’ (Dyke 39). In attributing blame, it is impossible to entirely load it on chloral, as the impetus that led Stillman to recommend the substance was Rossetti’s ‘morbid attacks’ – ‘He was sleepless, excitable and possessed by the monomania of persecution’ (Macht & Gessford 37).
Using alcohol, Rossetti managed to change something that was already a doubtful cure into a magnifying glass for his ills. Instances of paranoia, persecution, delusion and confusion pepper Rossetti’s interactions with Fanny from the late 1860s until the final letter and seem to frame how we understand Fanny today. Something as simple as a misplaced vase in 1873 becomes a puzzle; in a letter to Fanny he berates her for wrapping her trunk around it and digging a hole to hide it, while in the same breath he is almost apologetic: "I promise you faithfully to return it when I have painted it. But you know in fact that you have no business with it, as I never gave it to you, and now I want it badly for my picture. You shall have it back quite safe when done with which will be before long" (qtd. in Fredeman 6:455).
Like the slander about Watts-Dunton, Rossetti seemingly cannot recall if the vase is his or Fanny’s. Did he give it to her, or did she steal it? If the latter, why would he be at pains to promise it back? Yet the cartoon of Fanny the Elephant burying the vase has become a keynote of Fanny’s thieving ways without any actual proof that she took anything that was not a gift.
It seems that when it comes to great men, we are unwilling to admit that their testimony cannot be trusted. When examined closely, Rossetti often contradicts himself in his correspondence and actions towards Fanny. It also must be allowed that Fanny was a constant in Rossetti’s life from the late 1850s until his death around 25 years later. Their time apart was always at his behest, and she always made herself available. Over that last decade of his life, arguably the one person he could rely on was Fanny, while other friends took a step back due to his addiction. Therefore, Rossetti’s opinion of Fanny over that period of his life must be examined through the lens of chloral and its effects. Also, seen in this light, the family’s removal of Rossetti to Birchington was a blessing in disguise for Fanny, completely separating her from his actual death. It is not fanciful to propose that had Rossetti died from the sudden withdrawal of chloral in Cumbria, Fanny would have undoubtedly got the blame.
Links to Related Material
- Fanny Cornforth, the Rogue Elephant
- Rossetti's Real Fair Ladies: Lizzie, Fanny, and Jane
- Victorian Drug Use
Bibliography
The Academy (19 March 1898): 333.
Angeli, Helen Rossetti. Dante Gabriel Rossetti, His Friends and Enemies. London: Hamish Hamilton, 1949.
Cannon, Joseph G. Pharmacology for Chemists. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999.
Cary, Elizabeth Luther. The Rossettis: Dante Gabriel and Christina. London: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1900.
Dyke, S. C. ‘Some Medical Aspects of the Life of Dante Gabriel Rossetti,’ Proceedings of the Royal Society of Medicine 56 (December 1963): 1089–1093.
Ferguson, Donna. ‘“Constant Diarrhoea” and other excuses: Rossetti’s five years of apologies for unfinished art revealed.’ The Guardian, 17 December 2023 [accessed 1 July 2024].
Fredeman, William Evan. The Correspondence of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Martlesham: Boydell & Brewer, 2002. Vols. 6 & 9.
Hall Caine, Thomas. Recollections of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. London: Elliott Stock, 1882.
Knight, Joseph. Life of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. London: Walter Scott, 1887.
Macht, David I, & and Gessford. Nellie L. ‘The Unfortunate Drug Experiences of Dante Gabriel Rossetti,’ Bulletin of the Institute of the History of Medicine 6, No.1 (1938): 34–61.
Rossetti, William Michael. Dante Gabriel Rossetti: His Family Letters. London: Ellis and Elvey, 1895.
Created 1 January 2025