Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Plunges into History

by Bathroom Readers' Institute

  The carpenter nailed the box shut and left it for the baggage handlers. He sent a telegraph to his contact in Philadelphia, saying that the box was on its way.

  In a 1993 election, Canada’s ruling Progressive Conservatives lost 153 of their 155 seats.

  BOXED IN

  Inside the box, Henry had a little leather bag of water and some crackers. Three tiny air holes let in some light and air. He carried a hand drill, but it turned out, he couldn’t have used that drill even if he’d been suffocating.

  HANDLE WITH CARE

  Unfortunately, the baggage handlers didn’t always pay attention to the words on the outside of the crate. The very first ones turned it upside down, so Henry Brown was resting on his head. He was tossed into a baggage car, but the box rolled over and he was right side up again.

  DEFINITELY WRONG SIDE UP

  The crate was put on a steamboat, upside-down again. Henry described his body’s reactions to that: “I. . . found to my dismay, that my eyes were almost swollen out of their sockets, and the veins on my temple seemed ready to burst. I made no noise, however, determining to obtain ‘victory or death,’ but endured the terrible pain, as well as I could, sustained under the whole by the thoughts of sweet liberty. About half an hour afterwards, I attempted again to lift my hands to my face, but I found I was not able to move them. A cold sweat now covered me from head to foot.”

  RIGHT SIDE UP

  At that point, Henry thought he might die inside that box. But finally somebody noticed the words on the outside and turned it over. The crate was next put on a wagon. Then it was thrown off, and landed upside down. “I seemed to be destined to escape on my head,” Henry commented.

  He listened in terror as workmen argued over whether they could fit such a big crate onto the next train. But finally they picked it up and shoved it into the baggage car—this time right side up.

  ALL RIGHT INSIDE?

  Twenty-seven hours after it was sent, Henry’s box arrived in Philadelphia. It had traveled 350 miles. After three more hours, a group of Underground Railroad members picked it up at the station, put it on a wagon, and took it to a house.

  The first European to set foot in Australia was a Dutch sailor who’d been blown off course.

  The people who crowded around the box were afraid to open it at first. Finally, someone knocked on the box and asked, “Is all right within?” to which Henry replied, “All right.” Henry’s new friends were overjoyed, and hurried to pry the box open. Henry got up, shook himself, and immediately fainted.

  FREE AT LAST

  He was free, and from that day on he was called Henry “Box” Brown. He and a friend toured the free states with the box and the panorama, telling people what slavery was like. His book, Narrative of Henry Box Brown, was published later that year. But in 1850, the U.S. Congress passed the Fugitive Slave Act. Now, suspected slaves could be arrested in the Northern states and returned to their masters.

  MR. SHOWBIZ

  So Henry Brown took his panorama to England and gave antislavery lectures there. Later, around 1862, he switched to entertainments that included other singers and dancers, and even ventriloquists. He was last heard of about 1864, living in freedom in Wales.

  SLAVERY FACTS

  Slavery came about nearly 10,000 years ago because farmers needed help—free help, that is—on the fields.

  Slavery came to America in the 1600s, but not all of the states allowed the practice. The ones that did were appropriately known as “slave states”; the ones that didn’t, “free states.”

  By the middle of the nineteenth century, there were nearly four million slaves working for the upper classes.

  From 1790 to 1800, the capital of the United States was Philadelphia.

  RIDDLES: A SERIOUS SUBJECT

  * * *

  People in ancient cultures took their riddles much more seriously than we do today.

  In about the ninth century B.C., the Greek poet Homer wrote about heroes who fought in battles, had amazing adventures, and struggled with gods that acted like manic-depressives. Homer’s Odyssey is about a king’s long journey home after the Trojan War: the monsters, magic, and seductive enchantresses he faced. But legend has it that Homer—the author of all these monumental epics—killed himself in frustration because he couldn’t answer a simple riddle.

  THE RIDDLE THAT STUMPED HOMER

  The riddle in question was this, spoken by Greek fishermen: “What we caught we threw away; What we didn’t catch, we kept.” According to the story, Homer couldn’t figure it out, and it drove him to suicide. If you don’t get it either, don’t even think about following Homer’s example. We’ll give you the answers at the end of this article.

  The story might not be true (whether or not there even was a Homer is still in debate), but the ancient Greeks went wild for riddles. The word comes from a Greek root meaning “to give advice.”

  A RIDDLE FROM BABYLON

  Apparently the Babylonians believed that riddles could teach. The oldest riddles we know of were preserved on an ancient Babylonian clay tablet that probably served as a schoolbook. Here’s one: “Who becomes pregnant without conceiving, Who becomes fat without eating?” If you can’t compete with Babylonian kids, just check the answers.

  A RIDDLE FROM THE BIBLE

  Judges 14:12–20 talks about a riddle competition that Samson started at his seven-day wedding feast/bachelor party (this was before Delilah started hanging around). He offered rewards to those who could answer, but demanded the same rewards for himself if they failed. Here’s Samson’s riddle: “Out of the eater came something to eat; Out of the strong came something sweet.” Samson wasn’t really being fair. His riddle was based on a recent personal experience that only a few people knew about. He’d killed a lion earlier—just the sort of thing you’d expect him to do. Anyway, on the way to the feast, he’d seen a swarm of bees and honey in the lion’s carcass. The riddle was unanswerable until Samson’s wife coaxed the story out of him and passed it on to her relatives—the in-laws. Then the relatives replied with a riddle of their own, and the party went on from there. Check out the answer at the end of the story.

  Garfield was the last U.S. president born in a log cabin. Carter was the first in a hospital.

  The Queen of Sheba supposedly asked King Solomon a lot of “hard questions” when they met. Some translators say that she was asking riddles—which the wise Solomon—of course!—was perfectly able to answer. (But everybody knows what they were really up to. Oh, you didn’t know? Oh, yes, they were quite the item.)

  A RIDDLE WITH NO ANSWERS

  Riddles also appear in the Islamic Koran, the Indian Vedas, and the ancient oral traditions of most cultures. A related form called “koans”—such as, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”—are central to Zen Buddhism. Don’t look for the answer to that one at the end—there’s no logical answer to a koan. It’s just supposed to open up your mind.

  RIDDLE CHALLENGES

  Riddle contests were part of the Roman Saturnalia, a wildly festive weeklong pagan midwinter celebration. A master of riddles presided over the contest and awarded a laurel wreath to the winner. The losers had to drink their wine mixed with salt water. Yuck.

  THE RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX

  The most famous riddle of all (yes, even more famous than “Why did the chicken cross the road?”) is the one that the Sphinx asked every human she met. She was a dangerous creature with a woman’s head and breasts, a lion’s claws, an animal body, a dragon’s tail, and a bird’s wings. She prowled the countryside looking for trouble. And if you couldn’t answer her riddle, she ate you. That simple. Here goes: “What walks on four feet in the morning, two feet at noon, and three feet in the evening?” The only person who answered this correctly was Oedipus Rex, the king who married his mother (but he didn’t know she was his mother) and poked his own eyes out when he found out. As for the Sphinx, once somebody came up with the answer, she killed herself. Making the streets safe for dummies like
the rest of us.

  Thomas Jefferson invented the dumbwaiter, a swivel chair, and a lamp heater.

  RIDDLES, INTERNATIONAL

  Riddles have been asked—and answered—all over the world and in a multitude of languages. Here are two from two radically different cultures.

  From Iceland: “Who is the swift one that found me on the road? Neither the sun nor any other light shines on him. I have often seen him running alongside ships at sea. He needs no clothing or food, and is visible to all but tangible by none.”

  Got the answer? Well, here’s an ancient Mayan riddle that has the same answer. “You see it but you can’t grab it. It goes with you but you can’t grab it.”

  THE ANSWERS

  Even though we still tell riddles, nobody said that our minds or our senses of humor work in the same way the ancients’ did. Keep that in mind as you read:

  The Riddle That Stumped Homer: What did the fishermen keep? Lice, which they already had.

  A Riddle From Babylon: The thing that “becomes fat without eating” is a rain cloud.

  A Riddle From the Bible: The answer to Samson’s set-up question is honey out of a lion.

  The Riddle of the Sphinx: The answer is “a man”—who crawls at the beginning of life, walks upright in mid-life, and walks with a cane in old age.

  Riddles, International: A shadow.

  Robert McNamara, U.S. secretary of defense in the 60s, had a strange middle name: Strange!

  HIPPOCRATES, M.D.

  * * *

  He’s known as “the Father of Medicine” and all medical school graduates in the U.S. take the oath he wrote some 2,500 years ago.

  MY FRIEND, THE WITCH DOCTOR. . .

  In the fifth century B.C., most people thought illness was a result of evil spirits and preferred to take their medical complaints to the local healer. So when Hippocrates hung out his shingle on the Greek island of Cos, he had his work cut out for him. But he persevered and soon began to build a practice. He even established a medical school where he taught his newfangled ideas to the future doctors of Greece. His biggest contribution was that he treated patients based on scientific evidence. Well, mostly scientific.

  WHAT HIPPOCRATES WAS RIGHT ABOUT

  Some of his beliefs and discoveries:

  • the importance of moderation in all things—working, eating, drinking, exercising, sleeping—to prevent disease

  • the use of fasts and diets to cleanse the body

  • warm baths and massage to maintain health

  • the importance of fresh air and a good diet

  • the danger of being too overweight

  • that if a healthy woman stops menstruating and feels sick, she’s pregnant

  Some of his innovations:

  • putting his ear to his patients’ chests to check their lungs

  • aligning fractures

  • popping dislocations back in

  • draining pus (ick) from infections

  Which sounds pretty obvious to us, but it was all incredibly groundbreaking in 400 B.C. or thereabouts. In general, Hippocrates took the holistic approach to healing way before it got to be trendy.

  WHAT HE WAS WRONG ABOUT

  Given that society was just emerging from the muck of mysticism, we can allow the great healer a few mistakes, the most humongous of which was his belief in the theory that every living thing contained certain mixtures of four elements called “humours”: black bile, phlegm, yellow bile, and blood. These four humours had to be in balance or illness would result.

  Ironically, the Constitution of the Confederate States of America banned the slave trade.

  For example, he thought that epilepsy was the result of too much phlegm, which (hawk!) had to be removed gradually from the head. He also believed that young girls should sleep with a man as soon as possible to remove the impediment at the mouth of the uterus, and that pregnancy would bring a long-lasting cure by opening up the body so that excess fluids could move about freely.

  Harumph, you’re thinking. But this four-humour theory proved to be very popular and was still being used by physicians in the 17th century, while they largely ignored Hippocrates’s very basic ideas on fresh air and good diet.

  TAKE THE OATH, PLEASE

  Highlights: the oath lists the responsibilities of the physician to the patient—to work for the good of the patient, to do him or her no harm, to prescribe no deadly drugs, and to keep confidential any medical information regarding the patient—and the rights of the patient under the physician’s care. It warns doctors against overcharging (ahem!), overdressing, and wearing perfume. It encourages a pleasing bedside manner, but not too pleasing, because it forbids the doctor to have sex with patients.

  CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE

  Though Hippocrates gets all the credit, what’s come down to us as his discoveries and beliefs is probably the collective results of the work of 60 or more students at his medical school. And even though he was wrong about a few things, he more than earned the title, “Father of Medicine,” don’t you think?

  “Let medicine be thy food, and food be thy medicine.” Hippocrates

  The main speaker at Gettysburg spoke for two hours. Lincoln spoke for two minutes.

  MY DINNER WITH ATTILA

  * * *

  In A.D. 449 a Greek writer named Priscus of Panium visited Attila the Hun’s headquarters with a Roman embassy and wrote a report about the banquet he attended there. It’s been translated by scholars, but never before by Uncle John.

  THE HUN? THAT’S NOT WHAT I CALL HIM.

  The invitation said 3:00 p.m. sharp. And one does not play around with the schedule of world conquerors. Especially when they’ve been nicknamed “the Scourge of God.” (That’s what they call him in Hungary.)

  The guests were a mixed bag: emissaries of the Roman Empire (like me) rubbing elbows with local bigwigs and barbarians. I was met at the banquet room door by a servant who handed me a silver goblet filled to the brim with the local red. According to custom, the guests were expected to say a prayer at that point, but I couldn’t help peeking around inside.

  I was expecting something more primitive, but Attila surprised me. The banquet hall, like the rest of the palace, was what we ancient writers call “splendid.” And instead of the familiar (boring!) table-and-chairs setup, Attila had creatively opted for wooden chairs that lined the walls. At first I thought, oh, no, not another buffet, balancing plates on our laps! But I was wrong. When we were ready to eat, the servants brought the tables in and set them in front of us.

  HIS SCOURGENESS

  I’d seen Attila earlier that day, strutting around the palace compound. At this moment, the great man sat in the middle of the room on a couch. His oldest son sat on the couch, too, but miles away from his parent. The young man just sat there, staring at the floor. Which might have been out of respect, or maybe he was as scared of Attila as some of the guests were.

  I know you’re dying to know what Attila looked like. He’s short and squat. He has a large head, deep-set eyes, a flat nose, and a thin beard. At least one catty historian said he looked like an ape. (It wasn’t me!)

  But what was he thinking when he got dressed that morning?

  Watergate conspirator H. R. Haldeman ended up owning Sizzler restaurants in Florida.

  The rest of us were dressed to kill—or at least to maim. Fancy swords, jewelry, the whole bit. Attila had opted instead for the natural look. Which is so B.C.! Instead of trying to compete with his guests—and god knows he’s got spoils enough to do it—he wore the plainest clothes, no jewelry, no gold, no ornamentation of any kind.

  ATTITUDE, AND PLENTY OF IT

  The whole time, he had that fierce-warrior thing going. I wish he could have relaxed a little more—but when you’re a scourge and all, you have an image to protect.

  Then there’s the drinking: to hang with Attila, you need a hollow leg. Between courses, he stood up and toasted every guest, one at a time. Everyone was expected to join in, of
course, and then each of us had to toast him back, while the servants kept our goblets full. We were drowning in wine.

  Considering our host was the barbarian of barbarians, the meal was downright sumptuous. Silver platters were heaped with the Hunnish version of the four food groups. While we chowed down, our host, still full of surprises, ate only meat. And only from a wooden platter.

  WHAT, NO DANCING GIRLS?

  At sundown, the servants lit the torches and the show began. Attila had lined up an unusual string of talent for our amusement.