Burnout seems to be a decidedly modern concept, born in the age of global digital communication and long days spent at the office. However, England during the Victorian era (1837-1901) also had its own conception of this phenomenon, which was then called “overwork” (“overwork”).
The physician CHF Routh (1822-1909), for example, published On Overwork and Premature Mental Decay: Its Treatment (“On overwork and premature mental decline: its treatment”), a work which went through four editions between 1873 and 1888. If the vocabulary differs, the underlying concerns are remarkably close to ours. Overwork was seen as a new phenomenon in this era marked by imperial expansion and industrialization, with the development of railways and the telegraph, which allowed rapid communications on a global scale and imposed an ever more accelerated pace of life.
The Victorians were undoubtedly followers of what the British philosopher Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) called“Gospel of work”. But they were also very aware of the health problems that this devotion to this new religion could cause.
In the United States, the neurologist George Miller Beard (1839-1883) introduced the concept of neurasthenia, a disorder associated with exhaustion of the nervous system under the effect of excessive demand. In the United Kingdom, on the other hand, overwork was perceived in a very different way: it appeared as something more virile, almost as a reason for pride.
As today with the notion of burn-out of executives and intellectual professions, overwork was then mainly associated with mental activity and professional classes. This conception left aside the working classes, even though they were overwhelmed with work.
Doctors were of particular concern. CHF Routh notably mentions the case of Doctor Golding Bird (1814-1854), a renowned doctor, who advised him to slow down his pace of work. According to him, you should take six weeks of vacation each year: “Otherwise, you will find yourself, at my age, a successful doctor, but a dying old man.” Golding Bird was still practicing when he gave him this advice, but he died a few weeks later, at the age of 39.
Travel to regain health
For those suffering from overwork or other forms of malaise, the favored remedy—at least for the wealthy classes—was to stay at a therapeutic resort, preferably in continental Europe.
In 1870, the Scottish publisher William Chambers published Wintering at Mentone (“Wintering at Menton”), a story in which he recounts the collapse of his health from overwork after his term as Lord Mayor of Edinburgh, as well as his recovery. He describes with wonder the landscapes of Menton (Alpes-Maritimes), on the Côte d’Azur, its blue sky, its mild and comforting climate and invites his contemporaries to rethink their way of life.
According to William Chambers, too many people were going to the grave prematurely, after “succumbed in the feverish – and one could almost say senseless – battle of existence. They have devoted themselves to their professional activities for too long and too hard.”
Menton thus became one of the favored destinations for British people seeking to recover from overwork or other forms of physical and mental exhaustion. This reputation owes much to the work of the English doctor James Henry Bennet (1816-1891), author in particular of Mentone and the Riviera as a Winter Climate (“Menton and the Côte d’Azur as a winter climate”, 1861) and numerous editions of Winter and Spring on the Shores of the Mediterranean (“Winter and spring on the shores of the Mediterranean”, 1865-1875).
This last work presented itself as a therapeutic travel guide, reviewing the different resorts on the Mediterranean coast. His conclusion was clear: Menton offered, according to James Henry Bennet, the climate and conditions most favorable to recovery.

The reasons for the considerable influence of James Henry Bennet’s works lie largely in the account of his own recovery, which served as a preface to all of his books: “Twenty-five years devoted to a demanding profession, together with the incessant worries which overwhelm an overworked London doctor, have exhausted my vital forces. In 1859, I was attacked by phthisis and tried in vain to stop its progression.
Believing himself doomed, James Henry Bennet headed for the Côte d’Azur. But, once installed under the “beneficent sky” of Menton and “liberated from the work and worries of his previous life”he noticed with great surprise that his health was improving. He then decided to spend every winter there and opened a medical practice there. Under the effect of this growing reputation, Menton went from the status of a small village to that of a large spa resort, notably equipped with its own English quarter.
The revolution in medical climatology
James Henry Bennet was one of the major figures in the development of what was then called “medical climatology”. This approach was based on the idea that many diseases – notably phthisis, today known as tuberculosis – could be cured or, at the very least, stabilized by staying in a place with a favorable climate.
This current developed partly in reaction to smog which was stifling British industrial towns. “Chest diseases”, as they were then called, seemed to naturally progress better under the pure air and blue skies of the Côte d’Azur during the winter.
Doctor Bennet’s therapeutic method seemed almost revolutionary for its time. The sick had to leave the closed and overheated rooms of English houses to walk in the hills, expose themselves to the rays of the sun and breathe pure air, while enjoying the beauty of the landscapes that surrounded them. No medication was needed.
This approach was also recommended for elderly or frail people. They could be taken each day to a different, sheltered and sunny place: “The field of observation thus widens without fatigue; the magnificent landscapes of the region can be contemplated and appreciated in their ever-changing aspects; and the mind is invigorated by the change.” This vision offers an interesting source of inspiration for thinking about the possibilities of caring for older people today.
To treat overwork, time was the essential element. It was necessary to allow the sick to abandon themselves to a state of “legitimate idleness” in contact with the restorative virtues of nature.
For people suffering from overwork, James Henry Bennet recommended spending a minimum of three full winters in the seaside resort. We are far from the short spa treatments of the 18th centurye century, just like the brief “well-being” stays we are accustomed to today. What Dr. Bennet was proposing was a form of“legitimate idleness” (“legitimate idleness”), allowing exhausted professionals to conduct a “calm and contemplative life”enjoying the sun “like a lizard convalescing on its wall”.
Queen Victoria took her youngest son, Prince Leopold of Albany, who had hemophilia, to the “dear and magnificent Menton”. British writers and artists also flocked to the seaside resort, from the novelist Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) to the illustrator Aubrey Beardsley (1872-1898), including the author Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923). They left remarkable testimonies about the pleasures and trials of this form of medical exile.
My work, In Quest of a Cure: Literary and Medical Cultures of the Health Resort (“In Search of a Cure: Literary and Medical Cultures of the Spa”), explores many of these trajectories in Menton, Davos (Switzerland), and other spa resorts, as well as the evolution of therapeutic practices. To treat overwork like other conditions, time was the essential element. In contrast to the constant urgency, worry and fragmented time of Victorian urban life, it was necessary to slow down, stretch time and allow the sick to surrender to a state of “legitimate idleness” in contact with the restorative virtues of nature.
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