I have an old book on my shelf that came to me by way of my friend Paul Yunnie. Paul lives in England and is Chairman of the ASHRAE Historical Committee. I time-travel with him.
I ran into Paul at the big ISH fair in Frankfurt last March. We had a chance to drink a coffee and catch up, and that reminded me of the old book that’s on my shelf. Paul had put me on to the bookseller in London some years back, and I think I paid about three-hundred bucks for this one because of its age and good condition.
The title of the book is Theory and Practice of Ventilation and the author, David Boswell Reid, M.D, is very famous, at least as far as heating history goes. He was a medical doctor and a pioneer engineer, and in 1844, he cared about people.
The book is in remarkably good shape and I bring it down off the shelf from time to time to hold it and page through it, and to wonder how many owned it before it came to be on my shelf. I wonder about the systems they may have designed from this book.
The title of Chapter IV is Slave Ships. There are pen and ink drawings of human beings stacked like cordwood below decks. This was an engineering concern at the time – how do you deal with the air on slave ships? What follows are Doctor Reid’s thoughts, offered from the grave, to the engineers of his time. Listen.
'It might be expedient that vessels sent to capture slaves be provided with a portable ventilator, which might prove useful in removing the atmosphere before the sailors enter below deck, when it is in an extreme condition, and also when they may have to be conveyed for a considerable distance before they reach the shore.
'In these ships, the Negroes are stowed between the decks, which are seldom more than two or three feet, and sometimes not more than eighteen inches in height.
'In this condition, men, women, and children, perfectly naked, and, in many cases, the women either in a state of pregnancy or carrying their children of from four- to twelve-months old, are conveyed to their wretched holds.
In these dungeons of misery, they are packed together so close, that, in some instances, they are obliged to lie on their sides, and, from the small space between the decks, are unable even to sit erect.