Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Plunges into History

by Bathroom Readers' Institute

  Winston Churchill was once a war correspondent in Cuba, India, and Sudan.

  THE FAMOUS TURKISH BATHS

  Meanwhile, in the East, they had a different attitude. Islam embraced bathing as a purifying ritual. The bath (hamam) was often adjacent to the mosque where Mohammedans worshipped. Mohammed himself recommended a hot bath both for the joys of personal cleanliness but also as a fertility aid. But not because of shared bathing; that was forbidden in Turkey, both then and now.

  The Ottomans built gorgeous baths with domed ceilings and marble fountains. Private homes didn’t have baths, so everyone, rich and poor, just like in Rome, came to the public baths. And just like Rome, the Turkish baths had a cold room, a hot room, steam baths, and resting rooms with refreshments. Wealthy matrons were known to spend the whole day there, gossiping and checking out prospective brides for their marriageable sons.

  SOME STINKY EUROPEANS

  So while the rest of the world—the Arabs, Chinese, and Japanese—were taking regular baths as both a cultural and spiritual habit, medieval Europeans were opting for pungency. St. Francis of Assisi proclaimed an unwashed body to be a pious body. St. Agnes, a follower of St. Francis, died at age 13 without ever having washed. Queen Isabella of Castile (of Isabella and Ferdinand fame and as devout a Christian as they come) boasted that she had taken just two baths in her life—at her birth and before her wedding.

  Queen Isabella may have covered her stench with perfumes, but other Europeans preferred not to be so piously filthy. Medieval paintings show wealthy families and their friends bathing together in large tubs while musicians played for them.

  A HOT TIME IN THE OLDE TOWNE

  For a lot of 12th and 13th century Europeans, bathhouses were the place to be. These bathhouses had large hot water pools and in most cities money for bathing was included as part of a worker’s salary. The baths were run by a guild, just like every other occupation. Visits to the bathhouse became a regular family practice. Boys would run through the streets announcing when the water was hot.

  Of Canada’s 36 Fathers of Confederation, two of them were named John Hamilton Gray.

  TOO HOT TO HANDLE

  The sexes bathed together. Add a lot of drinking and feasting (at the same time) and you’ve got about as much fun as a Middle Ager could have. Bathing was the most popular amusement of the time. But eventually, things got a little too hot, so mixed bathing was all of a sudden prohibited.

  By the 14th century, “bathhouse” was pretty much synonymous with “brothel.” Bathhouse keepers checked customers for signs of syphilis and refused entry to anyone who was obviously suffering from the disease. So the bathhouses stayed, but they weren’t as much fun as they used to be.

  EARLY AMERICAN BATHING BEAUTIES

  Four hundred years and a lot of scientific progress later, doctors started encouraging people to bathe. John Wesley, founder of the Methodist church, sermonized that “cleanliness is next to godliness.” But old habits died hard, especially in the New World.

  In early America, a lot of people thought bathing was a health hazard. In 1837, Boston forbade bathing except on specific medical advice. In part, bathing was rare because preparing the bath was so difficult. Early Americans had to haul a tub into the kitchen, draw water from the well or spring and heat it over a wood fire. The whole family might take turns using the same water until it became questionable whether the last to bathe was getting cleaner or dirtier.

  WASHING IN WASHINGTON

  During the presidency of John Quincy Adams, the presidential bathtub was the Potomac River. President Adams took his bath in the river just before sunrise. On one morning, someone absconded with the presidential clothes and Mr. Adams had to shout until he attracted the attention of a young boy who ran to the White House for more.

  THE DUSTY TRAIL

  Bathtubs were rare in the Wild West. In 1871, Tucson, Arizona boasted 3,000 people, a newspaper, a brewery, two doctors, several saloons—but just one bathtub. Pee-ew!

  One of Canada’s “founding fathers” was an American: William P. Howland of Paulings, NY.

  WASTE OF A GOOD BASKETBALL TEAM

  * * *

  How the king of Prussia overcame short-man syndrome with the help of his royal guards.

  Frederick William I must have been quite a sight. An all-round psychopath known as the “drill master of Europe,” the king of Prussia was very short and weighed about 280 pounds, with a 102-inch waist—the original butterball. In case his bulging eyes, purplish complexion, and homicidal temper didn’t make enough of an impression, he smeared his face with bacon grease (he thought it would make him look more intimidating—maybe—but we bet it made him look more like a butterball). To add to his image he carried a rattan stick around and was in the habit of beating anyone who crossed him with it—or anyone within reach, whichever came first. An all-around delightful guy.

  A TALL STORY, BUT TRUE

  Frederick, who ruled from 1713–1740, made up for his lowly stature through his hobby, the giant Potsdam guards. Every man in this special honor guard—headquartered near the royal residence at Potsdam, just outside Berlin—had to be at least 6 feet tall and most were over 7; some reached almost 9 feet.

  Given Frederick’s personality, there weren’t a lot of volunteers for the guards. So Prussia sent agents all over the world to kidnap big guys. They brought back doctors, lawyers, diplomats, monks, and soldiers from other nations’ armies. A tall priest was kidnapped in Italy while he was serving mass. One of Frederick’s most expensive prizes was an Irish giant, spirited away from England at a cost of £1,000 (worth more than $100,000 today).

  LIFE AND DEATH AS A POTSDAM GUARD

  Frederick’s oversized acquisitions tended to be uncooperative. Life in the guard was squalid, and about 250 guards escaped every year. Those who were caught had their noses and ears sliced off. Several times the guards tried to burn down Potsdam, but it wasn’t until the king died that the troop was mercifully disbanded.

  In 1926, Joseph Goebbels demanded that Hitler be expelled from the Nazi Party.

  THE MONSTER THAT PHILO MADE

  * * *

  His invention changed the world—but was it for the better? Philo T. Farnsworth certainly didn’t think so.

  The invention that probably did the most to change modern society is something most people have never heard of, invented by someone most people have never heard of either. The invention is the dissection tube—the thing that makes your television work—and its inventor was Philo T. Farnsworth.

  A BOY AND HIS LIGHT SWITCH

  Philo was the son of a Mormon farmer. When his family moved from Utah to Idaho in 1919, 11-year-old Philo was surprised and delighted to find that his new home was wired for electricity (he was pretty thrilled about the flush toilet, too). From the moment he flicked his first light switch, Philo became obsessed with all things electrical.

  MISTER FIX-IT

  By age 13, he was a self-taught electrical engineer. And the handiest guy on the farm. When a generator blew, Philo came to the rescue. He built motors effortlessly from spare parts. And all the while he devoured newspaper and magazine articles about new ideas in electronics—and worked on how he could improve those ideas himself.

  PUTTING THINGS IN FOCUS

  It was an article about Scottish inventor John Logie Baird and his work with cathode rays that made Philo zero in on what would turn out to be his life’s work. Baird had been trying to reproduce real images on a screen but so far had produced nothing but blurs of light. From the moment young Philo read about Baird’s work, he was obsessed with the transmission of images onto a screen. He thought of nothing else.

  That’s why, while plowing a field one day, it was only natural that the thought came to him that electrons could scan an image line by line, just as his plow was working through the field.

  Hitler and Mussolini installed a fascist government in Spain that survived them both.

  HOW YOU GONNA KEEP HIM DOWN ON THE FARM?


  It took Philo another seven years to translate his idea into a working televison system. On September 7, 1927, he successfully sent a single line from his camera—which he called an image dissector—to friends who were looking at a glass receiver tube. They had just witnessed the first-ever transmission of an electronic television picture.

  BATTLING THE BIG BOYS

  Philo’s euphoria over his invention was short-lived. Within a few years, he was embroiled in a legal battle with the Radio Corporation of America (RCA). The company didn’t want to pay Farnsworth royalties to produce television sets, so they instigated a legal battle over who was the rightful inventor of television: a Russian immigrant they’d hired—one Vladmir Zworykin—or our own Philo T. Farnsworth. After much analysis and testimony the U.S. Patent Office awarded primacy of invention to Farnsworth.

  A TELEVISION APPEARANCE

  In 1957 Philo appeared on televison himself, as a mystery guest on the quiz show, What’s My Line? The mystery guest was someone with a unique claim to fame. It was up to a panel of four people to figure out exactly what that was. When asked if he was the inventor of something that could be painful when used, Philo said, “Yes. Sometimes it’s most painful.”

  Philo thought he’d created a monster—a way for people to waste a large portion of their lives. He wouldn’t allow his own children to watch television because he thought it would ruin their “intellectual diet.”

  SPEAKING OF HEALTHY HABITS

  Did you know Henry Ford was a vegetarian? Meat was expensive at the time; his decision to eat vegetables characterized his moderate lifestyle. Well not too moderate: as his automobile empire grew, he and his wife Clara moved to a 1,300-acre property. Of course, they had it landscaped to include a huge vegetable garden.

  Technically, it was lookout Rodrigo de Triana who “discovered” America, not Columbus.

  WHEREWORDS: A QUIZ (Knight Life)

  * * *

  The knightly news. Where did all these words that we associate with those guys in shining armor come from? Choose the best answer, then check it against our answers on the next page.

  1. CHIVALRY

  a. Corruption of “shebalry,” the protocol of the court of the Queen of Sheba.

  b. Hebrew “shiva” for “seven,” the number of knights per order.

  c. From the Latin “caballus” via French “cheval,” meaning “horse.”

  2. DRAGON

  a. In honor of Ottoman leader Torghud Draghon, who fought a legendary fire-breather.

  b. The serpent, Drakon, described in Homer’s Iliad.

  c. The dragon’s mythical breeding grounds in Dragholn, Denmark.

  3. TOAST

  a. Old English “tost,” the salute a knight would give before battle.

  b. It was named for a piece of burnt bread that the Romans dropped into their wine glasses.

  c. 12th century Spanish philosopher Mauro Tosti, known for his long speeches.

  4. CAMELOT

  a. For pagan King Camaalis, whose castle was by the River Cam.

  b. From “complot,” meaning the “conspiracy” against Lancelot.

  c. King Arthur named it himself, for the “camellias” growing there.

  5. NEMESIS

  a. From Greek mythology, she was the “goddess of retribution.”

  b. Latin contraction of “ne” + “amecus,” meaning literally “not friends.”

  c. After “Nemausus,” the river that fed the great aqueducts of Rome.

  6. GRAIL

  a. The medieval word, “grayle,” meaning “treasure.”

  b. “Graal,” a “cup,” supposedly the cup that Jesus drank from at the Last Supper.

  c. The Greek word for the Golden Fleece that Jason quested after.

  7. GARGANTUAN

  a. The gargantey, a small duck that eats the equivalent of its own weight every day.

  b. The 8th-century Mongol ruler “Garga,” who, at 7’ tall, weighed in at 700 pounds.

  c. From Gargantua, a giant-hero in a work by Rabelais.

  8. JOUST

  a. After Sir Joustier, who founded the Knights Templar in 1118.

  b. The Latin word “juxta” meaning “nearby.”

  c. It was the name of Galahad’s magic lance.

  Voltaire dismissed France’s Canadian colonies as “a few acres of snow.”

  1-c. “Chivalry” has links to the words “cavalry” and “cavalier,” not to mention the Spanish “caballero,” or horseman. The word originally referred to a group of horsemen at arms and eventually came to mean the system of knighthood.

  2-b. Agamemnon carried a shield with a picture of a dragon as he led the Greeks in the Trojan War.

  3-b. The Greeks were the first to toast each other as a pledge of friendship, but the Romans named it from their custom of dropping a piece of burnt bread into a glass to counteract the wine’s acidity.

  4-a. Camelot’s exact location (if you believe there really was a Camelot) is thought to be a place called Camalat, in Somerset, England, named for the pagan King Camaalis.

  5-a. Nemesis was the Greek goddess of justice or revenge., so a “nemesis” was someone who avenged or punished. Shakespeare used it in Henry VI. “Your kingdom’s terror and black Nemesis? O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turned. . .” (Talk about revenge, wishing your eyes were bullets.)

  6-b. In medieval legend, the Holy Grail was a cup or chalice, believed by the Christians to be the chalice of the Last Supper. Its magical powers provided food and healing, but it could only be found by the purest knight. In Arthurian legend, that’s Galahad.

  7-c. French writer François Rabelais used the folk tale of Gargantua to write his 16th century satirical masterpiece, Gargantua. The word “gargantuan” first appears there, describing the giant who as an infant drank the milk of 17,913 cows, combed his hair with a 900-foot-long comb, and once ate six pilgrims in a salad.

  8-b. Early medieval tournaments consisted of melees, or mock battles, fought by knights on horseback. This evolved into the joust, in which two horsemen charged until they were “nearby” each other and, with their lances leveled, tried to unseat their opponent.

  The knight’s bones are dust, and his good sword rust; His soul is with the saints, I trust. Coleridge (1772–1834)

  Alexander Hamilton wasn’t born in the United States, but on the Caribbean island of Nevis.

  THE REAL JEKYLL & HYDE

  * * *

  The 19th century’s most remarkable literary creation was based on 18th century Scotland’s most unlikely criminal. . .

  In 1886 Scotland’s most famous man of words, Robert Louis Stevenson, introduced to a fascinated world his short story The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. This tale of a respected physician who transforms into a deranged and dangerous criminal was the first fictional appearance of the now well-worn split personality crime theme. Stevenson got the inspiration for his investigation into man’s darker side from a similarly respected fellow Scotsman.

  THE TWO SIDES OF DEACON BRODIE

  William Brodie was born into an upright 18th century Edinburgh family and grew up as the model of respectability. He followed his father into the cabinetmaking trade, and by his mid twenties had established himself as a fixture among the upper crust of Scottish society. He was also the deacon of the local chapter of the Mason’s Guild as well as an Edinburgh city councilor.

  Brodie loved to gamble. And he had ongoing relationships with two prostitutes. Inevitably the gambling debts started to pile up and, when his two mistresses began to produce little Brodies, the good deacon found himself in desperate financial straits.

  CASING THE JOINT

  In the course of his legitimate daytime activities, Brodie visited his rich clients in their homes. He started making wax impressions of the house keys he came across, and checking out the houses for items of interest. He’d return in the evening to gather up the goods. His life of crime served two purposes: it was a solution to his money worries, and he liked the thrill of it all (
as most gamblers do).

  Brodie teamed up with a locksmith by the name of George Smith and together they stole everything in Edinburgh that wasn’t nailed down. In contrast to his elegant and cultured cohort, Smith was a small time crook with few redeeming qualities. When two more local criminals with similar dispositions were recruited into the gang, the undoing of William Brodie began.

  Norman Schwarzkopf’s dad was a leading investigator in the Lindbergh baby kidnapping.

  THE HEIST

  Brodie detested incompetence, but his most daring job—an attack on the headquarters of the Scottish Customs and Excise—was plagued with inefficiency. Brodie, dressed in black and acting as if he were playing a role in a pageant, stood guard outside with Ainslee as the other two made their way inside. Ainslee got cold feet and the usually cool Brodie canceled the job.