A Stitch in Time – A History of the Sewing Machine

 

Open your closet.

Take out any article of clothing.

A shirt. A coat. A pair of trousers. A pair of boxer-shorts, a blouse, a waistcoat, a T-shirt, a singlet, a glove…anything!

Now take out a magnifying glass and count every single stitch on the garment you’ve selected.

Imagine for a minute that you had to remake this garment. By hand. And that every single one of those dozens…hundreds…thousands of stitches…all had to be done, painstakingly, by you. One at a time.

Even working as fast as you could, as neatly as you could, it would be an exhausting, eye-bending, finger-numbing process to even make a simple shirt, taking countless hours and days and weeks.

But imagine that there was a machine that could do this for you. Something that could make dozens of stitches, hundreds of stitches every minute. Every single one the same, every single one identical, every single one just as strong and as permanent and as unmovable as the one that preceded it.

Now wouldn’t that be nice?

This is the story of the remarkable machine that singlehandedly changed the clothing industry forever. It is called the sewing-machine.

Who Invented the First Machine?

The sewing-machine was first conceived in 1790. It was the brainchild of English cabinetmaker, Thomas Saint. It was a heavy-duty thing used to sew together leather and canvas, but it was a sewing-machine. No actual Saint-style sewing-machines survive (if indeed one ever made it off the drawing-board). It wasn’t until nearly 100 years later, in 1874, that another sewing-machine manufacturer (a man named William Newton Wilson), discovered Saint’s original schematic drawings, hidden away somewhere in the London Patent Office. Out of curiosity, Wilson copied Saint’s diagrams and built a working replica of Saint’s 1790 machine.

It’s still around today. You can see it at the London Science Museum. Here’s a photo of a copy of that reproduction, in a museum in Japan:


The world’s first sewing machine! This model of a Saint sewing machine sits in the Sewing Machine Museum, in Nagoya, Japan.

Developing the Machine

Over the next few decades, the sewing machine was altered, improved and updated by a successive number of inventors and mechanics. Much like with the weaving machines of the 1700s, the sewing machines of the 1800s were met with considerable…

…anger.

See, because sewing took SUCH a long time, if you did it by hand, tailors could make a lot of money, since not everybody could do the precise, time-consuming, eye-straining work that they did every single day.

But if you had a machine that could do this, suddenly, their edge was gone!

Terrified that they’d be out of business, French tailors went on a riot! A French tailor named Thimonnier patented a new kind of sewing-machine in the early 1830s. Was it a success?

Hardly.

His brethren were so enraged that he’d developed a machine to take over their prized and highly specialised craft that they went on the rampage! Thimonnier’s machine-factory was ransacked! The machines were smashed to pieces and the entire factory was destroyed! By the early 1840s, it was all over.

So much for the French attempts at a sewing machine.

The next player in this game was an American. Walter Hunt.

Hunt was an inventor. And a big one. Here’s a list…

– Sewing-machine
– Safety-pin
– Repeating rifle
– Knife-sharpener
– Streetcar bells
– Coal-fired stoves
– Street-sweepers
– Ice-and-snow ploughs
– The velocipede

For those people scratching their heads right about now, the velocipede was an early type of bicycle.

Hunt’s machine was interesting, but hardly practical. Due to a design-fault, the machine was more of a hindrance than a help. The feed-dogs didn’t work very well, and this held the machine up.

The feed-dogs are little teethed pieces of metal underneath the needle-plate. The needle-plate is the plate of steel directly underneath the needle. As the machine runs, the feed-dogs rub back and forth and their ribbed surfaces push the fabric along, tugging it between the needle-plate, and the foot-plate (the metal clamp that snaps down on top to hold the fabric in place to stop it sliding around). Ideally, the dogs would move back and forth ‘feeding’ fresh fabric under the needle (and between the needle-plate and foot-plate), while also passing the finished fabric out the other side of the machine.

Ingenious!

But Hunt’s machine didn’t have dogs that worked properly. Instead of the machine pushing the fabric through at a regular pace, the sewer had to do it instead. And this was slow, tricky, imprecise and very frustrating. For all of Hunt’s inventions, his sewing-machine was a failure.

The next man to come along was Elias Howe.

Howe’s entry into the sewing-machine was pretty interesting. Like everyone else, he was trying to figure out how to make a better, smoother machine with stronger, more permanent stitches that didn’t come apart so easily.

To achieve this, Elias Howe invented something that every single machine has today.

A needle with its eye (hole) near the tip of the needle, instead of near the head (which is where the eye usually is, for hand-sewing needles).

Legend has it that Howe came to this realization after a nightmare. During the 1840s, while he was turning his sewing-machine idea over in his head, he had a horrifying dream. He’d been kidnapped by savage natives who were planning to kill him. They’d harpoon him to death with their spears!

Spears with…holes in the spearheads…

When Howe woke up, he suddenly realised that a needle with a hole in its tip would feed the thread headfirst into the fabric, instead of having the thread trail into the fabric after the needle. This would make the whole process faster and neater. And it allowed him to create the lockstitch sewing machine.

The lockstitch is the basic sewing-machine stitch. It happens when the thread fed down from the needle intertwines (locks) with the thread fed to the fabric from the bobbin, underneath the machine. The result is a tight, unbreakable stitch formed from two lengths of thread…something that would have been impossible without Howe’s eye-point needle.

Howe’s luck didn’t last long, though.

The moment this new revelation went public, everyone started copying him! Howe had long and frustrating court-battles to protect his invention, and he did eventually win, forcing his competitors to pay him royalties everytime they built a machine that utilised his new needle. They couldn’t get around it because a machine needed his needle to work properly. So there was at least a certain level of happiness to the end of this story.

One of the men that Howe dragged, kicking and screaming to the courthouse was the son of a German millwright. A man named Isaac…Merritt…Singer.

Singer Sewing Machines

Every industry has one leader or one brand which is instantly identifiable.

Rolex makes watches. Mercedes makes cars. Harley Davidson makes motorcycles. Steinway makes pianos.

Singer makes sewing-machines.

Although, what the connection between sewing and pizza happens to be, I’m not quite sure…

For over 160 years, Singer has been considered the first name in quality sewing-machines. Ask your mother. Grandmother. Aunt. Most likely, they own, or know, or knew, someone who did own, or does own…a Singer. And it’s not a sewing-machine…it’s a Singer. ‘Sewing machine’ is a mean, base word, offensive to the ears. ‘Singer’ is a sign of quality, craftsmanship, durability and style.

So where did it start?

Singer, the name known the world-over for its top-quality sewing-machines, was established in 1851 by Isaac Merritt Singer, the guy who Elias Howe dragged to court for stealing his special needle.

With the aid of New York lawyer Edward Clark (1811-1882), the company was established as I.M. Singer & Co. In 1865, when the American Civil War ended, the company changed to the Singer Manufacturing Company. Most vintage Singers will have “SIMANCO” stamped onto their various components. It stands for the SInger MANufacturing COmpany. Now you know.

Singer machines were stupendously popular. In 1853, the company sold just 810 machines. By 1876, they had sold 262,316! And climbing!

Singer machines were popular because they were stylish, simple, well-built, easy to care for and solid as Gibraltar. Even today, Singer machines that are 60, 70, 90, 100, 120, 140 years old…still work perfectly…for the pure fact that no corners were cut and everything was machined to perfection.

Like a lot of companies, Singer stopped manufacturing its breadwinning products during the Second World War. Instead, they built military hardware. They tried manufacturing automatic pistols (five hundred all told), but the results were hardly spectacular, and five hundred were all that were ever made. Today, those five hundred Singer sidearms are pretty rare…and valuable!

Singers were made all over the world. Not just in America, but also in Russia and the United Kingdom, and exported to every corner of the globe.

Singers were popular because of their wide range, good designs and their easy operation and maintenance. They built everything from huge desktop treadle-powered, belt-driven machines that were as big as desks, and which could sit in a standard parlour or living-room in a middle-class residence, to small, portable, hand-cranked machines, like this one:

Something small like this could be carried onboard a ship and placed on a table. The hand-crank meant that there was no electricity required to run it. Just muscles – handy in parts of the world which didn’t have electrical grids. Hand-cranked Singers were made well into the 1930s, even as electrical models were starting to come out in the ’20s.

Singers were famous for their jet-black bodies with their fancy goldwork and patterns around the wheels, machine-beds, sides and tops, a distinctive style that lasted for over a hundred years.

Designed to be as portable and as self-sufficient as possible, Singers came with all kinds of nifty attachments and features, as did some other machine-makers of the day. Underneath the machine-bed was a storage-compartment. Here you could put extra thread, needles, chalk, spare keys and any other necessities that you needed. The machine-manual, attachments, accessories, repair-tools and equipment were also stored in these little hidden compartments. The famous curved ‘bentwood’ cases that covered the tops of most (but not all) Singers came with brackets and hooks inside them, to safely store things like knee-bars, cans of machine-oil and so-forth, to stop them rattling around and damaging the machine. It was expected that no matter where you were, you could operate, clean and repair your machine, no matter what happened.

The sewing machine has come a long way from the Georgian one-time experiment to the robber of tailor’s livelihoods, to becoming the cornerstone of the clothing industry. This is just a brief look at the history of a truly marvelous machine that made countless lives easier around the world.

Looking for more Information?

www.oldsingersewingmachines.com

www.sewalot.com

www.singer.com

Dedication

This posting is affectionately dedicated to my beloved, late and much-missed grandmother (7th May, 1914 – 28th Nov., 2011). A professional tailor and seamstress of nearly fifty years’ experience, she fixed all my clothes when I was a child. She passed away at the impressive age of 97. It was her machine which was the inspiration for this article.

My grandmother’s sewing-machine, a Singer model 99k, made in 1950, in Kilbowie, Scotland

They’re Coming to Take Me Away! – A Compact History of Mental Illness

 

Mental illness is a horrifying thing. It has had a long, long, long, troubled past, full of superstition, horror, misunderstanding, experimentation, mistreatment, pain, suffering, abuse and conjecture. It’s the stuff of horror movies like “House on Haunted Hill”. For centuries, the mad and insane have suffered, some in silence…others, not so much.

This is the history of madness. A look at how mental illness has been viewed throughout the centuries, and how people attempted to treat it, control it and cure it.

The Nature of Madness

Mental illness has been around for as long as mankind, and for as long as it has existed, there have been explanations for it, reasons for it, cures and treatments for it, whether they be right, wrong, effective, ineffective or just plain crazy!

How far mental illness can be traced is totally unknown. Only since the dawn of the written word and reliable records can we can even begin to guess at how many centuries mental illnesses have existed for, or how far back certain specific illnesses can be traced.

The Cause of Insanity

People have been trying to figure out what caused mental illnesses for as long as they’ve been around. One of the earliest explanations was that it was related to the movements, phases and positions of the Moon. The Latin word ‘Luna’, or ‘Moon’, has given us the words ‘lunacy’ and ‘lunatic’.

Other common beliefs included posession by devils, demons, evil spirits…or that the person was a witch. In the last case, the most expedient ‘cure’ involved a large stake, lots of wood and a burning torch. To deal with ‘evil spirits’ or ‘demons’, the most common ‘cures’ were either an exorcism, or a terrifying operation called a trephination or a trepanning.

Trepanning was the practice of gaining access to the brain by means of making an incision in the organ’s outer casing.

In other words…drilling a hole in your head.

Trepanning is still practiced today, but its benefits (relieving pressure on a damaged and swelling brain) are much better understood now, than they were back in the Middle Ages, when this treatment was used to ‘cure’ insanity and release a person’s demons from their soul.

Trepanning was carried out using one of a variety of drilling or boring tools…such as this delightful instrument:

Stay very still and don’t sneeze…

The procedure was typically carried out in the following manner:

1. The patient was seated (or laid) on a chair or bed and secured in-place (either with straps or with the aid of surgeon’s assistants).
2. The head (or the necessary portion of it), was shaved smooth.
3. A Y-shaped cut was made into the skin, and the skin then peeled back.
4. A mark was made on the bare skull and the drill placed thereon.
5. Start drilling.

Oh…and if you’re the patient, you get the unique firsthand experience of watching everything that happens. Because there’s no anesthetics.

Trepanning was used to treat more regular health-issues, such as migraines, headaches and so-forth, but it was most famously used for the treatment of mental illness.

As folklore, superstition and religion slowly gave way to reason, logic, science and medicine towards the 1700s, a greater understanding was sought of the lunatic. What caused someone to go mad, what they should do with him, how he should be treated and what might happen to him. In Georgian England, the answer lay in one word.

Bedlam.

Or, as it is properly called, the Bethlehem Royal Hospital.

The Bethlehem Royal Hospital, or as it was more commonly called,Bedlam, was…and is (it’s still around today!)…the most famous mental hospital in the world. It’s also one of the oldest. Its existence goes all the way back to the early 14th century, when it was established in 1330.

Like Bedlam

The Royal Bethlehem Hospital, or Bedlam, was, is, and remains, the world’s most famous mental hospital. Even today, a phrase survives. A place that is rowdy, noisy, out of control and crowded with people is described to be “like Bedlam”. As indeed, the hospital was, during its most famous and notorious period, in the 1700s.

Previous to this time, the inhabitants of Bedlam were referred to as ‘inmates’, as if it was a prison for the mentally ill. In 1700, the inhabitants (also nicknamed ‘Bedlamites’) were called ‘patients’ for the first time. Between 1725-1734, ‘Curable’ and ‘Incurable’ wards were opened, where patients were supposedly housed accordingly. But despite the apparent show of progress, Bedlam was a hellhole.

In the 1500s and 1600s, the hospital was filthy and patient-care was almost nonexistent. Barely anything changed by the Georgian era. Patients were often chained to walls, locked in filthy cells or subjected to brutal ‘treatments’, such as ‘The Chair’.

It didn’t DO anything. You were strapped in an armchair. Tied down. Secured. Then the chair was hoisted up into the air and spun around…and around…and around…and around…and around…It was supposed to punish you for being ‘mad’, hoping that you would repent of your wicked and sinful ways and be an upstanding citizen once more.

Unsurprisingly…it didn’t work. Unless the purpose of the treatment was to make you expel your lunch, that is.

For almost the entirety of the 1700s, Bedlam was a popular tourist-attraction in London. It was common for the wealthy, upwardly mobile classes of British society to take in the sights…and one of them was a trip to the Bedlam Hospital, where, for a small fee, you could be granted admission to the wards. Here, you could view the lunatics and bedlamites and if you wished, you could poke them through the bars of their cells with your walking-stick to watch their reactions. It’s fun, trust me. Bring the kiddies…It should always be a family outing, a trip to a lunatic asylum.

One of the most famous depictions of the Bedlam Hospital is the final painting in a series by Georgian artist, William Hogarth, titled ‘A Rake’s Progress’. Painted in the early 1730s, this is what the notorious lunatic asylum looked like in the 18th century

By the turn of the century and the coming of the Victorian era, views on mental health were (gradually) changing and conditions at Bedlam did eventually improve. Government inquiries, reports and investigations brought to light the shocking conditions inside Bedlam and by the dawn of the 19th century, the regular tours had died away after surviving as a London fixture for nearly a century. The patients were given proper care and attention and the buildings improved.

The Maddest of them All

The most famous mad Georgian of them all was one of the kings who gave his name to the era. King George III. Up to 1788, he was a sharp, intelligent, learned man. He enjoyed science, technology, mechanics, farming and nature. He had a lovely and loving wife and a HUGE family (fifteen children in total!). But from then on, attacks of mental illness eventually robbed him of his senses. He died, blind, deaf and insane, locked in a tower in 1820. When his beloved wife, Queen Charlotte, died in 1818…nobody even bothered to tell him.

Mad Words

The Georgian era gave us a number of our most commonly-used words when describing mental illness – “Crazy”, and “Insane”, from Middle English meaning ‘cracked‘, and from the Latin word ‘Insanus‘ (‘Unhealthy’). ‘Psychiatry as a discipline, was first practiced in 1808, when the word was coined by a German physician, Dr. Johann Christian Reil, from the Greek words meaning “Medical Treatment of the Mind”.

A Victorian View of Madness

Mental illness was not widely understood in Victorian times, but things were gradually improving. The Industrial Revolution made life faster. For the first time, things could truly be mass-produced.

And lunatic asylums were no exception. As a partial list, we have:

The Hanwell County Asylum (built 1830).

The Surrey County Asylum (built 1838).

The Royal Bethlehem Hospital (extended, 1837).

The City of London Lunatic Asylum (opened 1866).

Guy’s Hospital (Lunatic Ward, opened 1844).

The list goes on. And this is just in England.

Thanks largely to reforms at the turn of the century, the Victorian-era lunatic was handled with much greater care, but probably with just as much misunderstanding. Causes, and treatments for, mental illnesses…and indeed, the distinctions between one illness and another…were still very much muddled up. But progress was…slowly…being made.

The increase in number, and size, of asylums and hospitals around the world, as well as the number of patients, caused problems. Although chaining patients up was no longer an acceptable method of restraint, something was needed to stop patients from hurting themselves. If they couldn’t be drugged up with heroin, opium, laudanum and morphine (common Victorian drugs for calming someone down!), then they had to be rendered a negligible force in some other manner.

Its existence predates the Victorian era, but the straightjacket was the most common method.

Invented in 1790 in France, it was first used at the Bicetre Hospital in the southern suburbs of Paris. Bicetre was not a place where you wanted lunatics to run wild. It wasn’t just a hospital. It was a lunatic asylum, a prison and an orphanage as well!

The straightjacket was used regularly on mentally ill patients, even before the Victorian era. It was the only way that badly understaffed mental asylums could control all their patients at once. But a straightjacket isn’t supposed to be worn for a long period of time (restricting the limbs like that causes blood-clots and other nasty things…perhaps why Houdini wanted to break out of them so often). Bicetre Hospital was one of the first mental asylums, along with Bedlam, to introduce humane treatment methods for the mentally ill during the sweeping social and moral reforms that spread around Europe and the United Kingdom in the 1790s.

Research and theorising into the causes and possible treatments of mental illness started in earnest in the 1800s. Pioneers such as the famous Dr. Sigmund Freud, helped to guide the way. Freud, a Jewish German, fled Nazism in the 1930s and settled in England. He was on the hit-list of people to kill when the Germans invaded Britain. Fortunately for Freud, the Germans never invaded. And even if they had, it wouldn’t have done them any good. He died less than a month after the war started.

Phrenology

Perhaps you might have seen one of these?

These days, people buy them as paperweights, bookends, curiosities, dust-collectors, souveniers, decorations and hat-holders. But back in the Victorian era, these things were used to understand the brain.

Or something like that.

Shakespeare once wisely said that there was “no art to finding the mind’s construction in the face” (taken from ‘Macbeth‘, that was, in case you’re wondering). What the Bard meant was that it’s impossible to just look at someone, study their face, and then automatically know what’s going on inside their head.

Apparently, Victorian psychiatrists, doctors and psychologists…disagreed with the great playwright, because for most of the 19th century, phrenology held sway as the latest way to read and understand the workings of the human brain. And they were onto something!

…or not.

Phrenology has absolutely NO medical or scientific fact to back it up at all. It was dismissed as quackery by the end of the Victorian era and was declared to be of no practical benefit at all to the fields of medicine or science.

But what was phrenology?

The ‘Science’…so-called…of Phrenology, supposed that a person’s personality and traits, his mannerisms and so-forth, could be determined, or even predicted, by studying the shape of his head. If you’ve ever heard of ‘death-masks’ (masks or busts made of prisoner’s heads after their executions), they were made to try and study the heads (and minds) of the “criminal class”, as it was called in Victorian times. It was hoped that by studying the heads of criminals, their shapes, their foreheads, positions of ears and so-forth, a general list of  ‘characteristics’ could be compiled, showing the public the typical face (and traits) of someone who is (or would become) a criminal.

Phrenology advocated the belief that the brain is divided into segments or “organs”. Each organ controlled an emotion, or trait, such as lust, hope, curiosity, aggressiveness, gentility, connivance and so-forth. It was believed that by examining the head of a person, you could map or determine his personality traits.

How?

Using a pair of phrenology calipers. They look like this:

You can stop sucking in your belly. They’re not for measuring body-fat.

The calipers were used to measure the head. By examining the size of the cranium (that’s fancy medical talk for your skull) the phrenologist could pick up on any abnormalities. He was looking for bumps or strange inconsistencies on your head. The positions of these bumps on your head were transferred to a chart (or to a phrenology head) where a number would be printed. The number corresponded with a trait, printed on an accompanying list. The bumps indicated the areas of the brain which were, supposedly, the most developed, and by extension, the personality traits that were most developed within your brain. This could determine your mood, temperment, likelihood for criminal behaviour, propensity towards violence, drunkenness, abusiveness, gaiety…all kinds of things! Fascinating!

Did it work?

No.

But it sure makes for interesting blog-material.

Phrenologists, as they were called, believed that each section of the brain controlled or housed a particular trait or emotion. You can see that here in this chart from 1895:

As you can see, phrenology didn’t last very long. This page is taken from a medical dictionary from 1895. Note the opening passage, that phrenology was the “…science of the special functions of the several parts of the brain, or of the supposed connection between the faculties of the mind and the organs of the brain…”.

Phrenology continued to linger long after it was dismissed as quackery by the respected medical community. It’s mentioned in “Dracula”, by Bram Stoker, and in numerous Sherlock Holmes stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Most notably, in “The Hound of the Baskervilles”, where Dr. James Mortimer confesses to an interest in phrenology…specifically, in a close examination of Holmes’s head! (“A cast of your skull, sir, until the original becomes available!”).

Want to know more about phrenology? Here’s an interesting and rather funny lecture given by Prof. John Strachan of Northumbria University in England. Enjoy!…Oh, this is just Part 1. If you want the rest, click on the video and it’ll take you to YouTube, where you can see the rest of it.

A New Century

The Great War of 1914 brought a new horror to the world of mental illness. It was given the title ‘Shell shock’, and was believed to be caused by the deterioration of the mental state, caused by the constant bombardment of artillery shells. The unrelenting stress thus created, it was believed, caused the affected person’s brain to just snap and blow a fuse.

It was in the first half of the 1900s that mental illnesses started getting names. Names like…

Catatonia (1874).

Schizophrenia (1908), from the Greek words that described a ‘split mind’.

Melancholia (An older term. ‘Depression’ today).

Bipolar Disorder (1957). Previously called ‘Manic Depression’ (1952) and ‘Circular Insanity’ (1854).

The 20th century also brought forth a new and terrifying treatment. One which had no sure and certain outcome and which could, if performed poorly (or performed at all!), leave the patient as a comatose vegetable. It was called the lobotomy.

Tinkering with what does the thinking, has been a fascination for centuries…just look at medieval trepanning. The lobotomy had its roots in late-Victorian scientific and medical experimentation. Great strides were being made in medicine during the turn of the 20th century. New drugs, new ways of doing things, new understanding, new technologies, were making the treatment of patients faster, safer, cleaner and more effective. Why not might the same be done for the human brain?

Mostly because the results were almost always a failure.

The Lobotomy

Ah, the lobotomy. Famous in horror films for turning monsters into angels, angels into monsters, and right-thinking people into perfect vegetables. But what is it?

The lobotomy as is most commonly thought of, was developed in the mid-1930s by Antonio Egas Moniz. In 1935 and 1936, Moniz ‘perfected’ one of the most controversial medical treatments in the history of medical treatments…and that’s saying a lot.

A lobotomy involves making two incisions (holes) in the front of the head and inserting a pair of blades into the brain, whereafter two cuts or slices are made into the frontal lobes (quarters) of the brain. This was supposed to alter the workings of the brain, calm the patient down and affect a remarkable change in personality.

…or not.

Some lobotomies were pulled off with relative success. Others became tragic failures. Because the lobotomy required small, precise slices or cuts into the brain, a small, precise instrument was used. Originally, that instrument was one of these:

The scientific term is an ‘orbitoclast’, but its similarity to the axes and picks used by mountain-climbers…

…caused people to call operations carried out with these instruments, ‘ice-pick lobotomies’.

Unsurprisingly, lobotomies were incredibly risky. Patients risked everything from death, paralysis, becoming a vegetable, losing their faculties, their ability to speak, see, function properly in society…It makes you wonder why such a treatment was ever devised in the first place! One of the most famous people to receive a lobotomy was a 12-year-old boy named Howard Dully. He’s still alive today. He was born in 1948. The lobotomy was performed on him with the permission of his parents. The damage was so severe that it took him his whole life for his brain to recover and for him to be able to function properly in society again. The lobotomy is such a mythical procedure in medicine today that he wrote a book about what it was like to have one, and the effects that it had on his life. His memoir is titled “My Lobotomy”.

The effects (and benefits, if any) of lobotomies were disputed almost immediately. Even by the 1940s, people were questioning whether or not this ‘procedure’ did anything useful at all. The Soviet Union made the performing of lobotomies illegal as early as 1950. By the 1970s, most other countries had followed suit. During the heyday of the lobotomy (the 1940s and 50s), up to 18,000 people were lobotomised in the United States alone.

Electroshock Treatment

Electroshock treatment or therapy dates back to 1938. It was devised by Italian psychiatrists Ugo Cerletti and Lucio Bini. Cerletti first experimented on animals, as all good scientists did back in those days, before moving onto human patients.

Why on earth would zapping someone with electricity be considered a good thing?

Cerletti believed so because he noted a remarkable change in his aggressive, mentally ill patients. Once zapped, aggressive patients tended to be calmer and more manageable. This was seen as a good thing (who wouldn’t agree?) and electroshock therapy was slowly introduced around the world, to treat those who had mental illnesses that caused them to be a danger to those around them, such as the “criminally insane”.

Electroshock therapy is obviously dangerous. Improper use of the therapy can lead to brain-damage, most notably, temporary or permanent memory-loss. It was often prescribed for violent criminals to calm them down, or for mentally ill patients who posed a physical danger to those around them. It’s still used today, to treat extreme depression, although in the 21st century, it’s much safer. It can still result in varying levels of memory-loss however…so if your doctor decides to prescribe you this treatment…think twice before saying ‘Yes’.

Looking for more Information?

Index of British Lunatic Asylums

The History of Phrenology

Documentary Film:Bedlam: The History of Bethlehem Hospital“.

History of the Bethlehem Royal Hospital

“What is a Lobotomy?”

“What is a Lobotomy?” (WiseGeek.com)

All Aboard – The Kindertransports

 

You’re being chased out of town. There are riots in the streets. You’re not allowed to go to the cinema, the theatre, to public swimming-pools, restaurants or libraries. You can’t use public transport. Your movements are restricted by a nightly curfew. Every single day brings more challenges, more uncertainty, and even more danger.

But then you hear of this scheme, this program, this initiative. If you take part in it, in a few days’ time, you can escape all this unhappiness. You can be safe and happy and welcomed, in a land where nobody can hurt you. And you can leave right now.

But only you.

Your parents can’t come. Your grandparents have to stay behind. Your uncle and aunt won’t be there to see you leave.

You’re five…six…seven years old. You’re going to a country that you’ve probably never been to before. In all likelihood, you don’t even speak the language. Once in this new country, you cannot leave. You stay there for nearly ten years before you can return to a home that might not exist anymore, to find a family that has been wiped off the face of the earth.

This is the story of the Kindertransports.

What were the Kindertransports?

The Kindertransports was a refugee program established by the British Government in November, 1938. It was designed to evacuate persecuted Jewish children from Germany, Austria and Czechslovakia in the months leading up to the outbreak of World War Two, and to give them shelter and refuge in the relative safety of the British Isles. The program lasted from shortly after Kristallnacht in Germany, to shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War in early September, 1939. About 10,000 Jewish German, Austrian and Czech boys and girls were evacuated from their homelands to England, to protect them from rising Nazi antisemitism on the European continent. It is one of the forgotten stories of the Second World War.

What was Kristallnacht?

“Kristallnacht”, a German phrase commonly translated into English as ‘The Night of Broken Glass’, was a nationwide pogrom (essentially a race-riot) of Germany’s Jewish population in November of 1938. In the space of a few hours, thousands of Jewish shops were smashed, burned and ransacked. Windows were broken, shops looted and over two hundred synagogues were burnt down. Many Jews were either shot or arrested and thrown in jail. More were tortured or sent to concentration-camps. It was the most extreme anti-Jewish measure taken by the German Nazi-Party before the outbreak of the Second World War.

The Effect of Kristallnacht

Jews had been fleeing from Germany ever since 1933. In 1935, various ‘Nuremberg Laws’ (a collection of anti-Jewish laws) made life increasingly more intolerable for Germany’s Jewish population. It was during this time that many forward-thinking Jews tried to escape from Germany. A few lucky thousand managed to get ships to England or the United States. Some went to the Dominican Republic. About 30,000 Jews fled to the International Settlement of Shanghai between 1933-1941.

But life for Jews who were stuck in Germany, and who weren’t able to escape, became more and more desperate and difficult with each passing day. Kristallnacht terrified the Jews and appalled the British Government. More than ever, letters pleading for the British Government to issue visas to Jews desperate to escape Germany, came flooding in.

The problem was that the British Government was unwilling to act. The year is 1938. The Depression is only just beginning to ease. The British Government did not want to allow Jews into the British Isles, who might steal jobs that were badly needed for British workers. Above all, the British Government did not see the situation in Germany as being one of refuge, but rather as one of immigration. To the eyes of the British Government, the German Jews wanted to come to Britain to work, not to escape the persecution of the Nazis. On top of this, fears of war with Germany have been growing for months now. British families are evacuating their own children to the countryside, or to towns and villages out of the expected operational radius of German fighter and bomber-planes. How could the government also take in thousands of German Jewish refugees? There wouldn’t be anywhere to house them! Orphanages, schools and foster-families were having enough issues coping with British children, let alone all these continental refugees!

But public pressure forced the government’s hand. In the end, a compromise was reached – Jewish children, unaccompanied by their parents, would be allowed passage from Germany to England. The British Government could be seen to be doing its part in trying to help Jews evacuate from Germany, but at the same time, British jobs wouldn’t be threatened since the refugees wouldn’t be old enough to work. It wouldn’t be easy, what with British children also being evacuated from all the big cities in southern England, but the government was determined to make some sort of effort.

How did the Kindertransports Work?

You are a Jewish child living in Germany in 1939. You want to be a part of these ‘Kindertransports’ that you’ve heard about. How do you join in?

Jewish children were rounded up. They were assembled in places like schools or orphanages, and then taken to the nearest train-station. Entire classes or orphanages of Jewish children, would be packed up and sent by train from Berlin, Vienna or Prague, to cities in Holland and Belgium (if you didn’t live in Berlin, Vienna or Prague, then you would have to travel there to get on the trains). Once in Holland or Belgium, you would be loaded onto a ship bound for England. Once the ship docked on the coast of England, you would be sent by train to cities or towns in southern England where you would be placed with a foster family, or housed in an orphanage. Perhaps, if you were exceptionally lucky, you might get to stay with relatives already living in England.

But once you reached England, there you had to stay. The outbreak of war meant that you wouldn’t be able to go back to Germany, or German-occupied Europe until May, 1945.

The British government was pressured by Jewish aid agencies, humanitarian groups and refugee advocates for weeks. It eventually set into motion a scheme for evacuating children from Europe.

How Long did the Transports Last?

The kindertransports lasted for approximately a year. The first transport docked in England on the 2nd of December, 1938. The ship left Europe and sailed for the coastal town of Harwich, carrying 196 German Jewish children, who had been evacuated from their orphanage in Berlin (which had been destroyed by the Nazis).


Some of the children in the first Kindertransport, photographed here in Holland, awaiting their ship to England. December 1st, 1938

Every child that was evacuated from Europe was given a bond of fifty pounds sterling, and was issued with a temporary travel permit or visa, that allowed him or her to leave Europe and travel to England. But this was only available to children who were below the age of 17. The expectation of the British government was that once the crisis and anti-Jewish fervor had died down, all the children would be sent back to Germany to be reunited with their families. If they’d know what would happen in just a few months, they might’ve tried even harder with their evacuation-plans…

In Europe, the kindertransports were handled by religious leaders and humanitarian workers who sent trainloads of children from schools and orphanages to the Belgian and Dutch coastlines where they could be sent to England. In groups of a thousand, or a few hundred each time, it’s estimated that about 10,000 children in total, were evacuated before the outbreak of the Second World War.

Life in England

You have escaped Germany. You reached Berlin, you got on a train, you arrived in Belgium and got safely across the English Channel to a British port.

Now what?

As I said earlier, most children were taken in by foster-families or private sponsers. If you were one of these children, then it meant a further train-ride from your port of arrival to the British capital, London, where you would be collected at the station, or at a designated collection-point, by your sponser or foster-family. Other children were taken in by local families living near the arrival port. Leftover children were kept in transit-camps until such a time when they could be sent to specially-prepared orphanages. About half the transported children were taken in by foster families or sponsers, while the rest ended up in boarding schools, orphanages, youth hostels or on farms as farmhands.


Monument to the Kindertransports, Liverpool Street Station, London, England

For most children, life was pretty good. They received gifts and they were mostly well-treated by their host-families, although of course, there were a few which weren’t. Most of the older children found work as farmhands, general labourers or as domestic servants. The oldest of the older children even signed up to join the British Army when they reached the age of 18, determined to fight the people who had driven them out of their homeland in the first place.

The Effect of War on the Kindertransports

The start of the Second World War effectively ended the Kindertransports. In England, a wave of anti-German feeling swept through the country. Thousands of Germans and Austrians were rounded up, arrested and thrown in prison. Among these were abut a thousand kindertransport refugees who looked old enough to be young adults. It was feared by the British Government that these “enemy aliens” might try and sabotage the British war-effort. To try and render them a negligable force, they were packed onto ships and sent to Canada and Australia.

The purpose of the internments was to seperate legitimate refugees of Nazism, from German and Austrian expatriates, who the British government saw as a threat. But in the chaos following the fall of France, everything got mixed up.

The most famous case was that of the HMT Dunera. HMT stands for “His Majesty’s Transport”; the Dunera was a military troopship. Crammed onto it were 2,542 prisoners, double the ship’s actual capacity. They included a smattering of German and Italian P.O.Ws, Nazi-sympathisers, and in one of the biggest blunders ever – about two thousand mostly German or Austrian Jewish refugees, including kindertransport children. The inclusion of the Jewish refugees on the prison-ship was a shameful disaster, one which Churchill himself called a deplorable and regrettable incident.

Where was the ship going?

It left Liverpool on the 10th of July, 1940. It sailed without incident, all the way to the other side of the world! It docked in Sydney, Australia, two months later. The desperately overcrowded ship (which was only supposed to hold 1,600 people) bcame notorious for the cramped, crowded and unsanitary conditions onboard. Australian customs and medical officials, who boarded the ship when it docked in Sydney, were appalled by the conditions in which two thousand Jewish refugees, and about 540 P.O.Ws, were forced to spend two months at sea in!


The Dunera docked in Port Melbourne, Australia, 1940

The prisoners onboard ship, including the Jewish refugees, were herded into prisoner-of-war camps in Australia. Eventually, letters sent to England by the refugees made the government realise that they’d made a horrific mistake! Changes were implemented and the Jews were automatically segregated from the German and Italian P.O.Ws and Nazi-sympathisers, and given their own camp. Here, they received medical treatment and whatever food and water the Australian government could spare. They were classified as “friendly aliens”, who posed no threat to the war-effort of the British Empire.

Of the Jewish refugees who somehow ended up in Australia on the Dunera, about a thousand of them stayed in Australia where they were offered permanent residency by the Australian government. Several hundred of the younger refugees enlisted in the Australian Army to fight the Japanese and the Germans. The remainder of the refugees booked passages back to England on the next available ship.

The Last Transports

The Kindertransports ended officially on the 1st of September, 1939, the day that Germany invaded Poland. On this day, the borders were closed and trains were no-longer allowed to pass freely between the countries of Europe.

The Winton Trains

The Winton trains were a small number of trains that ran from Czechslovakia to safe ports in Western Europe, transporting Czech Jewish children to safety in England. They are named after Sir Nicholas Winton, the young British businessman who initiated the scheme. Sir Nicholas and his trains managed to save nearly 700 Jewish children from death.

The number would’ve been 950 children, but the start of the war ended Sir Nicholas’s humanitarian efforts. When war broke out in early September of 1939, the ninth (and final) Winton train was stopped at the Czech border. Nearly all the 250 Jewish children onboard were eventually killed.

In 2009, a commemorative “Winton Train” ran from Czechslovakia to England to commemorate Sir Nicholas’s efforts. Onboard the train were Jewish survivors who escaped the Holocaust on the original Winton trains back in 1939, and their descendants. The commemoration was also a celebration of Sir Nicholas’s 100th birthday! As of the time of this post, Sir Nicholas is 102 years old.

The very last Kindertransport left Europe on the 14th of May, 1940. It was the steamship Bodegraven, which left the Dutch port city of Ijmuiden (“Ei-mouden”) during the fall of Holland. It carried eighty incredibly lucky children to safety in England.

Of the 10,000 Jewish children and teenagers who escaped the Nazis during the Holocaust thanks to the kindertransports, nearly none of them ever saw their parents ever again.

More Information?

The Kindertransport Association

“The Kindertransports: A Childhood in Hamburg”, by Paul M. Cohn, a Kindertransport survivor.

Choking or Charming? The History of Ties and How to Tie One

 

Ties. They can look flashy, fashionable and snappy, or they can bring back visions of boardrooms, the office, school or military dress-uniforms. They can be stylish and colourful, or they can be choking and restrictive, or possibly inducive of autoerotic asphyxiation…which might not be a bad thing. But I digress; fewer articles of clothing are more polarising to men other than whether you would, do, would not, or do not, choose to wear a tie.

Some people wear ties on a regular basis as part of a uniform. Some men wear ties because they’re part of their personal style or ‘look’. Personally, I’m in the camp of the latter. I started regularly wearing ties again about two years ago, and I’m still wearing them regularly today. In fact, I’m wearing one right now as I type this.

But how long have men been putting things around their necks? Where did they come from? Why on earth would someone do this?

The History of Neckwear

People have been putting on neckcloths for centuries. The modern necktie and its cousin, the bowtie, the two most common neck-coverings today, were descendants of one of the most common neck-coverings of the 17th century – the Cravat.

The cravat, a wide, scarf-like neck-cloth tied loosely around the throat, was the neck-covering of choice from the 1600s up to the 1800s. Some people who want a more loose and loungey, casual look in their neckwear still wear cravats, and their cousins, the neckerchieves, today. The word ‘cravat’ came from the French  ‘cravate’, which was a corruption of the word ‘Croat’, from the country of…Croatia, where the cravat was born in the 1630s.

The original purpose of these neck-coverings and cloths (be they cravats, kerchiefs or ties), was actually to hold the shirtfront shut, and to stop wind and cold air from blowing down into your clothes and onto your chest…it was a comfort thing.

The Birth of the Tie

By the mid-1800s, the cravat, a staple of men’s wardrobes for the past two centuries, was beginning to get a bit raggedy around the edges. As with a lot of other elements of men’s clothing at the time, people started wanting simpler, better-fitting, less flamboyant clothing. The cravat was being seen as a relic of the Regency era of the 1810s and it was quickly becoming sooo last century.

So the modern necktie was born. While the cravat and the neckerchief never really went away, by the last quarter of the 1800s, they were beginning to do serious battle with the new kid on the block – the necktie.

The necktie was popular for a number of reasons.

– The cravat is generally tied loosely and floppily around the throat. This was fine…so long as you didn’t have to keep tightening it up all the time. In the increasingly mechanised world of the late 1800s, the loose, wavy cravat was a liability. If it unluckily unravelled over a piece of whirring machinery, it could strangle the wearer to death! The necktie was done up so that it provided a tighter, safer knot.

– The necktie was simpler and didn’t take up so much real-estate. Cravats are like icebergs – three quarters of the cloth is stuffed down your shirtfront. And cravats are big, bulky things – that leads to a lot of excess material. Neckties were slim and simple, without wasted fabric.

– The necktie was easier to put on. A cravat had a lot of fabric and tying one could be frustrating. A necktie was thinner and had less to fuss around with, making it faster and more convenient to tie.

Tie Knots

There’s a multitude of tie-knots out there. According to author Thomas Fink, who did a study of the necktie, there are no fewer than 85 ways to tie a necktie. Screw that! I’m only going to talk about two knots.

Not all shirts are the same and not all collars are the same. So you should always know at least two tie-knots. One of the most common knots is the Four-in-Hand.

Four-in-Hand Knot

The four-in-hand knot is probably the simplest knot ever. Supposedly, it was named after coachmen, who would tie up the reins of their carriage-horses in a similar way, to stop them from tangling up during long drives. If you’ve never tied a tie and you really need to know how, this is the fastest way:

1. The tie’s draped around the popped-up collar and over your shoulders, with the right side longer than the left (and with the wider side on the right).

2. The right side of the tie is crossed over the front of the left and then pulled behind it to the right.

3. Then the right side of the tie is crossed over the left side again.

4. Then, it’s pulled up through the gap below your neck.

5. Using your fingers, wriggle a hole through the last of the two loops that you made around the skinnier portion of the tie.

6. Stuff the wide end of the tie down through that new hole you wiggled open with your fingers. Pull it down so that it’s nice and tight.

7. Close the gap below your neck by pulling on the short end of the tie to draw the knot up.

Note: As this is the knot that generally uses the least amount of material, you might end up with a tie that hangs down too low. If it does, untie and do it again. Simply repeat step 3 two or three more times. This uses up the extra fabric so that you don’t have so much left over when the knot’s done up.

The four-in-hand knot is best used with shirts with spearpoint collars, that leave only a small space between the ends of the collar. This is because the knot that results from tying a tie in this fasion is rather long and skinny (unless you wrapped the tie around the knot a few more times to use up the extra fabric like I mentioned up above).

The Windsor Knots

The knots which are collectively called the Windsor knots, go by many names. But the general style was named after the dapper Duke of Windsor (who caused a scandal in 1936 when he abdicated the British throne). However, the knot itself was actually invented by his father (King George V), who had a reputation of being a strict dresscode adherent.

Windsor knots are also called Full Windsors, Double Windsors and Half-Windsors.

What the hell is the difference?

Full Windsor and Double Windsor are the same thing.

Half-Windsor is…a…half-Windsor.

So how do you tie one?

The Windsor-knot is famous, not only because of its royal connections, but because it’s a fat, chunky knot with a lot of symmetry. Here’s how you do one up.

1. Drape your tie over your shoulders and around your popped-up collar. Longer, wider side on the right, skinnier and shorter side on your left.

2. Cross the long side over the short side (left).

3. Loop the long side behind, and then up, through the gap below your neck, and outwards. Then, pull down. The front of the wider end of the tie should now be hanging down, on your left-hand side.

4. Cross the wide side of the tie back behind the knot again, but this time, pull it right across to the right side of your body.

5. Pull it up and stick it through the gap below your neck, keeping to the right side, this time. Pull it down. This is similar to step 3, only in reverse and on the other side of the knot. In this case, the BACK side of the wide end of the tie should be facing outwards.

6. Draw the wide end of the tie across the front of the knot to the left, and then poke it through the gap below your neck from behind, again (as in step 3).

7. Toss the wide end of the tie back over your left shoulder. Stick your finger down the front of the knot to make a hole there. Stuff the rest of the wide end of your tie down that hole and pull tight.

8. Pull the shorter, back end of the tie down to close the knot.

If you’ve done it right, then you should have a fat, triangular knot. Also, there should be a little dimple in your tie just below the knot – a distinctive trademark of a Windsor knot.

Alright. You’ve just done a Full or Double Windsor knot. Again, as with the four-in-hand knot, if you’ve left with too much fabric, undo the tie, readjust and tie again, but repeating steps 3 and 5 one or two more times to use up the extra fabric to make the finished length more correct.

So how do you do a Half-Windsor knot?

Easy. Just do half the steps. That’s why it’s called a Half-Windsor!

Do steps 1-3. Then instead of doing step 4 (bringing the tie around the back of the knot to the front to the right and stuffing it down the neck-gap again), simply bring it around the back, all the way around the front and to the back again (in a loop), then do steps 3, 7 and 8. Done.

The Four-in-Hand, the Full/Double and Half-Windsor knots are the most commonly-used tie-knots. The Windsor knots, because of their chunkier results, are best tied on shirts with spread collars, where a knot that takes up a lot of shirt real-estate is preferrable.

The Bowtie

Like the necktie, the bowtie is descendant from the granddaddy of all neck-cloths, the cravat. Okay. I won’t go into all that again.

Doing up a necktie is easy. Most boys learn how to do one up for school uniforms and the like. But a bowtie can be daunting and scary and intimidating!

It isn’t.

Bowties carry certain connotations – You’re a professor, banker, teacher, doctor, Hercule Poirot, or if you wear thick-rimmed glasses, have buck-teeth and wear a shortsleeved shirt – a nerd. But bowties can also carry a connotation of skill…mostly because they’re perceived as being impossible to tie.


Agatha Christie’s dandy Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot (portrayed by David Suchet), with his trademark bowtie

They’re not.

And this is how you do it.

I’ll be honest. There are a bazillion video-tutorials on YouTube that show you how to do up a bowtie. And you could disregard everything here that’s to come, and just go and watch one of those. But one reason why there’s so many of those videos is because they all show you how to tie a bowtie…but they don’t tell you. “You do this, then this, then this, then this, then this…voila!”

Yeah. Slow down. The video’s over in two minutes and you’re standing there with a piece of crap tied around your neck and your big fancy Black-Tie dinner is in half an hour. You’re screwed.

Tying a bowtie is easy – I got it after just three attempts. If a doofus like me can do it, anyone can. Here’s how:

1. Pop up your collar.

2. Adjust the length of your tie. Quality bowties have a cinch or an adjuster on them. Use this to get the length of the tie right.

How long does the tie have to be? Well, if it’s draped over your chest and around your neck, the left end of the tie should be at your nipple or at the top of your sternum. The right end should be about an inch or so longer than that. Adjust the tie’s length so that this is achieved (the short end of the tie is always on the left, the long side is on the right). Go ahead. I’ll wait…

3. Okay, done that? Now, to tie stuff up. Cross the long end of the tie over the short end (to the left). Stick the long end up behind the knot and pull up, firmly. The long end of the tie is now on your left shoulder and it should’ve looped around there from behind the left part of the tie. Yes? Good. Leave it there.

4. The other half of the tie is now pointing straight down. It should be shaped like a fish, with the tail pointing down and the head pointing up. Fold the tie in half across the middle of the head. Then twist this part of the tie to the left. You should have a nice, bowtie-looking shape under your chin if you’re looking in the mirror.

5. Keeping this position, flop the other part of the tie (on your shoulder) down over the middle of this bowtie shape.

6. Pinch the head and tail of the fishy bow which you created in step 4, together, and pull outwards. You’ll now have two holes. One between your neck and the tie itself, and one smaller one in front of that, just big enough for your finger to poke through.

7. The long half of your bowtie is now hanging down just like the other half was, with the fishtail pointing down and the head pointing up. Do as you did with the other half of the tie – Fold the head in half and twist it to the left.

8. Now for the tricky bit. Remember that little hole I mentioned at the end of step 6? You’re now gonna shove the folded head of your other fishy through that hole. I find it helps to fold the fish again, lengthwise, to fit it through here.

9. Done that? Now you should have:

Front bow – folded side on the left. Fishtail on the right.
Back bow – Folded side on the right. Fishtail on the left.

During this procedure, the middle of your bowtie knot might become a bit twisted. You can untwist it slightly to make it a little neater.

Now, to tighten and neaten.

Pull on the two fishheads to tighten the knot, and on the two tails to loosen the knot. Keeping pulling on the heads and the tails until symmetry and a comfortable tightness has been attained. Straighten out the fish-heads (especially the inner right one, which may have become a little crinkled in the exercise), and you’ve got a perfect bowtie!

Now you’re ready for that school formal or prom or that Black Tie family reunion or that fancy dress party which you’re attending as a Computer Nerd.

To undo the tie later, simply pull on the fishtails, and the whole thing just comes apart.

Note: Don’t worry if the tie isn’t absolutely super-duper crazy mega-perfect. No self-tied bowtie ever is. But you can try to get close.

“Ah Watson! The Needle!” – Sherlock Holmes and Drugs

 

“Which is it today? Morphine or cocaine?”
“It is cocaine. A seven-per-cent solution. Would you care to try it?”

– Dr. Watson speaking to Sherlock Holmes, ‘The Sign of Four’

Sherlock Holmes is famous for a lot of things. His deerstalker cap, his pipe, his address (“Two-twenty-one B…Baker Street”), his phenomenal deductive powers and of course…his drug-use. That’s what this posting is about.

The Holmesian Canon (the collection of short stories and the novels), was written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who was knighted in 1902 for services rendered during the Second Boer War (1899-1902). But before the Boer War, Doyle enjoyed the use of another title.

Dr. Arthur Conan Doyle.

That’s right. He was a physician.

He wrote the Holmes stories in the considerable amounts of spare time that he had between appointments and consultations, to make the extra money that his medical practice failed to provide.

It’s probably not surprising then, that medicine and drugs play a big role in the Canon, since after all, the stories were written by a doctor.

Sherlock Holmes and Drugs

The Holmesian canon gives us a window into the world of Victorian England, at the end of the 19th century. We see clothing, transport, social attitudes, science and technology. And we also get a glimpse into Victorian medicine. How many of the characters are doctors or surgeons? Dr. Mortimer, Dr. Watson, Dr. Trevelyan, Dr. Carthew…the list goes on.

But Holmes’s closest association with medicine (apart from Dr. Watson), is his use of drugs.

I will say this once. So pay close attention.

Sherlock Holmes was not a drug-addict.

He says so himself. Holmes’s brain is overactive. It is constantly whirring around looking for things to occupy itself with. When he’s working on a case, his brain is occupied with problems, facts, deductions, inferences and pieces of evidence.

When Holmes doesn’t have a case, his brain has nothing to work on. Nothing to stimulate it. He gets bored and cranky. Hence the drugs. They serve to keep his brain occupied and stimulated when he doesn’t have a case. He hops off them the moment that he does have one. At best, you might say that Holmes was a recreational drug-user. But certainly not an addict. If he was, he’d be huffing on opium and shooting up heroin all day long, even if he was on a case…which he has never done.

“…My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation…”

– Sherlock Holmes, ‘The Sign of Four’

Now, I will sit back while I’m broadsided by a group of angry people screaming at their computer-screens, saying how Holmes is a drug addict because he shot himself up with cocaine and morphine, how he did tobacco, how he huffed opium and did heroin and every other kind of illicit drug imaginable. Of course he was a druggie. Those are all illegal drugs!

…No they’re not.

Drugs in Victorian England

You have to understand that we read the Holmesian stories through modern eyes. Through the eyes of people living in the 21st Century. When these stories were written, some well over a hundred years ago, things were very different.

The most important difference, for the purposes of this posting, is that in Victorian times, opium, morphine, cocaine, laudanum and heroin were all completely legal.

Yes they were. Believe it, or not.

You could go into your Boots chemist in London on Fleet Street and buy a bottle of opium or morphine just as easily in 1885, as buying a bottle of aspirin pills is today. Nothing was thought of it and nothing was said. It was as easy as that. And 100% legal. Owning, using, purchasing and selling these drugs was as common as cough-drops. There was almost no regulation or laws surrounding these substances…mostly because at the time, their side-effects were less well-understood than they are today.

Opiates, especially (opiates are the drugs derived from the opium poppy), were used extensively in Victorian times, either as sedatives, sleeping drafts or painkillers. Sleeping-tablets contained opium or morphine. Sedatives (drugs to help you relax) most likely also contained opium or one of its related drugs.

The most common painkiller of the time was a powerful drug sold in bottles and which was used to treat everything from toothaches, headaches, joint-pains and back-ache. Called ‘Tincture of Laudanum’, this highly potent cocktail of alcohol and opium was powerful and effective…but also extremely addictive. And it was sold as freely in Victorian times as any other non-prescription pain-relief medication is sold today.

The Status of Drugs

In Victorian times, when the Holmesian canon was written, there was almost no regulation about drugs and poisons. The closest thing you had was the pharmacist’s ‘Poison Book’.

By law, pharmacists had to keep a record-book of poisons. Anyone wanting to purchase poison would have to fill out a line in the book. Their name, address, reason for purchasing poison and so-on…and sign their entry in the book. That was pretty much it.

But the drugs which, in the 21st century are illegal, had no regulation in Victorian times. Their side-effects were not understood and they were so widely used by everyone from doctors and surgeons to parents treating their sick children, that nobody thought anything of it.

It would not be until 1920, with the passing of the Dangerous Drugs Act, that drugs like cocaine and heroin would finally be outlawed in England.

Holmes’s Use of Drugs

At best, Holmes was a recreational drug-user. He shot himself up with morphine and cocaine to alleviate the agonising spells of boredom he had between the cases which were his real addiction. Opium is occasionally mentioned in the canon (most notably in ‘The Man with the Twisted Lip‘), and its famous side-effect of drowsiness (which is what made it so popular as a painkiller and sleeping-agent) was recorded therein, but no mention is made of Holmes ever actually taking the drug.

Whatever you might think of Holmes and the use of the drugs mentioned in the canon, you need to understand the historical context of the stories and the manner in which drugs were viewed at the time, and how they were used by Holmes, both very different from how they’re handled and used today.

“Ah Watson! The Needle!” – Sherlock Holmes and Drugs

 

“Which is it today? Morphine or cocaine?”
“It is cocaine. A seven-per-cent solution. Would you care to try it?”

– Dr. Watson speaking to Sherlock Holmes, ‘The Sign of Four’

Sherlock Holmes is famous for a lot of things. His deerstalker cap, his pipe, his address (“Two-twenty-one B…Baker Street”), his phenomenal deductive powers and of course…his drug-use. That’s what this posting is about.

The Holmesian Canon (the collection of short stories and the novels), was written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who was knighted in 1902 for services rendered during the Second Boer War (1899-1902). But before the Boer War, Doyle enjoyed the use of another title.

Dr. Arthur Conan Doyle.

That’s right. He was a physician.

He wrote the Holmes stories in the considerable amounts of spare time that he had between appointments and consultations, to make the extra money that his medical practice failed to provide.

It’s probably not surprising then, that medicine and drugs play a big role in the Canon, since after all, the stories were written by a doctor.

Sherlock Holmes and Drugs

The Holmesian canon gives us a window into the world of Victorian England, at the end of the 19th century. We see clothing, transport, social attitudes, science and technology. And we also get a glimpse into Victorian medicine. How many of the characters are doctors or surgeons? Dr. Mortimer, Dr. Watson, Dr. Trevelyan, Dr. Carthew…the list goes on.

But Holmes’s closest association with medicine (apart from Dr. Watson), is his use of drugs.

I will say this once. So pay close attention.

Sherlock Holmes was not a drug-addict.

He says so himself. Holmes’s brain is overactive. It is constantly whirring around looking for things to occupy itself with. When he’s working on a case, his brain is occupied with problems, facts, deductions, inferences and pieces of evidence.

When Holmes doesn’t have a case, his brain has nothing to work on. Nothing to stimulate it. He gets bored and cranky. Hence the drugs. They serve to keep his brain occupied and stimulated when he doesn’t have a case. He hops off them the moment that he does have one. At best, you might say that Holmes was a recreational drug-user. But certainly not an addict. If he was, he’d be huffing on opium and shooting up heroin all day long, even if he was on a case…which he has never done.

“…My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation…”

– Sherlock Holmes, ‘The Sign of Four’

Now, I will sit back while I’m broadsided by a group of angry people screaming at their computer-screens, saying how Holmes is a drug addict because he shot himself up with cocaine and morphine, how he did tobacco, how he huffed opium and did heroin and every other kind of illicit drug imaginable. Of course he was a druggie. Those are all illegal drugs!

…No they’re not.

Drugs in Victorian England

You have to understand that we read the Holmesian stories through modern eyes. Through the eyes of people living in the 21st Century. When these stories were written, some well over a hundred years ago, things were very different.

The most important difference, for the purposes of this posting, is that in Victorian times, opium, morphine, cocaine, laudanum and heroin were all completely legal.

Yes they were. Believe it, or not.

You could go into your Boots chemist in London on Fleet Street and buy a bottle of opium or morphine just as easily in 1885, as buying a bottle of aspirin pills is today. Nothing was thought of it and nothing was said. It was as easy as that. And 100% legal. Owning, using, purchasing and selling these drugs was as common as cough-drops. There was almost no regulation or laws surrounding these substances…mostly because at the time, their side-effects were less well-understood than they are today.

Opiates, especially (opiates are the drugs derived from the opium poppy), were used extensively in Victorian times, either as sedatives, sleeping drafts or painkillers. Sleeping-tablets contained opium or morphine. Sedatives (drugs to help you relax) most likely also contained opium or one of its related drugs.

The most common painkiller of the time was a powerful drug sold in bottles and which was used to treat everything from toothaches, headaches, joint-pains and back-ache. Called ‘Tincture of Laudanum’, this highly potent cocktail of alcohol and opium was powerful and effective…but also extremely addictive. And it was sold as freely in Victorian times as any other non-prescription pain-relief medication is sold today.

The Status of Drugs

In Victorian times, when the Holmesian canon was written, there was almost no regulation about drugs and poisons. The closest thing you had was the pharmacist’s ‘Poison Book’.

By law, pharmacists had to keep a record-book of poisons. Anyone wanting to purchase poison would have to fill out a line in the book. Their name, address, reason for purchasing poison and so-on…and sign their entry in the book. That was pretty much it.

But the drugs which, in the 21st century are illegal, had no regulation in Victorian times. Their side-effects were not understood and they were so widely used by everyone from doctors and surgeons to parents treating their sick children, that nobody thought anything of it.

It would not be until 1920, with the passing of the Dangerous Drugs Act, that drugs like cocaine and heroin would finally be outlawed in England.

Holmes’s Use of Drugs

At best, Holmes was a recreational drug-user. He shot himself up with morphine and cocaine to alleviate the agonising spells of boredom he had between the cases which were his real addiction. Opium is occasionally mentioned in the canon (most notably in ‘The Man with the Twisted Lip‘), and its famous side-effect of drowsiness (which is what made it so popular as a painkiller and sleeping-agent) was recorded therein, but no mention is made of Holmes ever actually taking the drug.

Whatever you might think of Holmes and the use of the drugs mentioned in the canon, you need to understand the historical context of the stories and the manner in which drugs were viewed at the time, and how they were used by Holmes, both very different from how they’re handled and used today.

The Good Germans: Having a Nazi in the Family

 

The names Hitler, Goering and Heydrich will forever be drenched in blood. Forever mocked. Teased. Spat on. Have songs sung about them regarding various states of testicular development…or underdevelopment.

The actions and inactions carried or not carried out by three of the most reviled men in history have been condemned an infinity of times by survivors, soldiers, historians, ordinary people, politicians, students, teachers, professors, freedom-fighters…and even…their own families.

This is the story of the members of the Families Hitler, Himmler and Goering, who turned their back on the black sheep of their name, who would forever tarnish whatever good reputation they might once have had, or might possibly have had in the future. This is the story of how members from the families of the three most hated men in history worked against their relatives’ revolting actions to try and attone for the sins and misdeeds that would forever be linked to their names.

Just in case you don’t know who these men are (unlikely), here’s a brief rundown:

Adolf Hitler – Chancellor or ‘Fuehrer’ of Germany. Leader of the Nazi Party which ruled Germany from 1933-1945.

Hermann Goering – One of Hitler’s right-hand men. Head of the German ‘Luftwaffe’ (airforce).

Reinhard Heydrich – Senior S.S. general. He chaired the infamous “Wannsee Conference” where high-ranking German officials gathered to discuss the details of the “Final Solution”.

The Good Germans

This is a legitimate article about actual historical events and persons. All the people mentioned in this posting are real and they really did what they did. None of this is made up. Members from the families of Adolf Hitler, Hermann Goering and Reinhard Heydrich, really did conspire against them and worked against the Nazi war-machine during the Second World War. Their stories have been drowned by nearly seven decades of blood, but they are remarkable…and true.

So, let us begin.

William Patrick Hitler (1911-1987)

Related to: Adolf Hitler

Familial Connection: Nephew

William Patrick Hitler was born in Liverpool, England, in 1911. His father was Alois Hitler, half-brother to Adolf Hitler. His mother was an Irishwoman named Bridget Dowling.

The Hitler family is hardly conventional. It’s full of failed marriages, deaths, half-siblings and bastards (literally and figuratively).

William Patrick Hitler grew up in England. His father abandoned him at a young age and went back to Germany; William was raised by his mother, and he wouldn’t see his father again for nearly twenty years. When the First World War ended, William went to the new German ‘Weimar Republic’, the new Germany that had sprung up out of the dust and smoke of the end of the Great War. By now, it was 1929. In a few years, William’s uncle Adolf would seize power, in 1933.

William initially tried to take advantage of ‘Uncle Adolf’s new and powerful position as the new leader of Germany, but he became more and more dissatisfied with what he saw. He wanted Uncle Adolf to give him more to do, perhaps feeling that someone as influential as Adolf Hitler would have more influence. William even tried to blackmail his uncle. When this backfired on him, William fled to the United Kingdom in January of 1939. It was during this time that he wrote an article for a popular magazine, entitled “Why I Hate My Uncle”. Shortly afterwards, William and his mother moved to the United States of America.

When the Second World War started a few months later, William and his mother were trapped in the U.S.A. With German U-boats prowling the Atlantic Ocean looking to attack Allied shipping, it was too dangerous to sail back to England. Eventually (and understandably, after quite a bit of fuss), William managed to join the U.S. Navy, where he worked as a hospital corpsman.

After the War, William changed his name from the German ‘Hitler’ to the more English-sounding ‘Stuart-Houston’. He married and had four sons.

He died in the United States in 1987. He was 76 years old.

William P. Hitler had a sibling – A half-brother named Heinz Hitler (born to his father’s second wife, in Germany). Unlike William, Heinz joined the Nazis. He was captured by the Russians and tortured to death in 1942. He was 21 years old.

Albert Goering (1895-1966)

Related to: Hermann Goering (Nazi officer)

Familial Connection: Brother

Unlike his older brother Hermann, Albert Goering was a rather quiet, gentle sort of fellow. He hated the Nazis and the brutal tactics that they employed. He wanted to live the quiet life of a wealthy, German aristocratic gentleman, living somewhere in the countryside. Of course, having someone like Hermann Goering for a brother made these beautiful dreams rather harder to attain than usual.

Albert was so upset by what the Nazis were doing that he began to actively defy them…probably one of the few people who could do so, and get away with it. He helped Jews and political prisoners escape from Germany to countries of safety by getting them out of jail or by getting them essential travel-documents and money. He used to forge his brother’s signature regularly on important papers to help Jews escape.

So as not to be seen doing things that were suspicious, Albert would occasionally “help” the Nazis…in quite possibly the most unhelpful ways possible! He might sometimes be put in charge of Jewish transports. Only, trucks transporting Jews might never reach their work-assignments, prisons or labour-camps. Instead, they’d drive off a side-road, park in some quiet spot, and then Albert would turn a blind eye while all the prisoners hopped off the trucks and ran away into hiding, or tried to escape.

On occasions when Albert was arrested, he always managed to use his brother’s position as a top Nazi to get himself off the hook.

When the war ended, Albert was picked up by the Allies and interrogated extensively. But when all his supporters (mostly Jews) came to his defence, charges of Nazism were finally dropped.

Albert made a modest living as a writer after the war. He died in Germany in 1966. He was 71 years old.

Heinz Heydrich (1905-1944)

Related to: Reinhard Heydrich (S.S. General)

Familial Connection: Brother

Heinz Heydrich was the younger brother of Reinhard Heydrich, a respected general in the German S.S., the paramilitary organisation that was so heavily involved in the carrying out of the “Final Solution to the Jewish Question”; nothing less than the complete anihilation of the entire Jewish population of Europe.

Heinz Heydrich was a lieutenant in the S.S. Originally, he was very proud of his Nazi association and his older brother’s position within this unique organisation. He was a journalist by trade, and published the party newspaper. He continued his active association with the S.S. until June of 1942.

Early in June, Heinz’s older brother Reinhard died, asassinated by resistence-members in Czechosolvakia. His car was ambushed at a blind corner in a road and he was mortally wounded, dying a few days later in hospital.

It was this event that changed everything. Almost overnight, Heinz received a bundle of Reinhard’s personal papers and files…included in these were detailed plans about the “Final Solution”, in which Reinhard had been heavily involved.

Realising fully for the first time what he’d signed up for when he joined the S.S., Heinz was horrified. He burnt most of the papers in disgust.

Soon after this event, Heinz began to realise that he was in a truly unique position. Being the brother of a prominent S.S. general (albeit, a dead one), and being the editor of the party newspaper meant that he had a lot of influence. He used this to help as many Jews as possible escape from Germany. As a writer and editor of the party newspaper, Heinz had access to a commercial printing-press. He used this to print fake travel-documents which he signed and forged and stamped, and gave to Jewish families, so that they could escape from occupied Europe to countries of safety.

Heinz continued this work for two years, and might have lived out the war and be acquitted at the Nuremberg trials, if not for an event in November of 1944.

An investigation was launched into the goings-on at the S.S.’s newspaper offices. It was a pretty mundane thing – They just wanted to know why there was such a shortage of paper (in 1944 Germany, a lot of things were in short supply). Heinz, terrified that he’d be found out, committed suicide, shooting himself in the head.

He was 39 years old, and left a wife and five children behind.

Want to know more? Or perhaps you don’t believe me that all this is possible?

“Why I Hate My Uncle” – by William Patrick Hitler

“The Good Brother: Albert Goering”

 

Click-Click-Click…Ding! A Typed History

 

Fewer machines have made more of an impact on the world than the humble typewriter. For over a hundred years, this little machine was responsible for everything from newspaper-stories, film-scripts, some of the world’s greatest novels and stories, letters to loved ones and friends, and some of the most famous speeches of the past century.

The Birth of the Typewriter

Well…where did the car come from? Where did the lightbulb come from? Where did the electric telegraph come from?

We think the answer is simple and can be traced to the genius of one man. But as is often the case, the typewriter, just like with all the other things mentioned above, it was the contributions and discoveries and inventions made by lots of people that eventually culminated in one great, mutually-beneficial machine.

The idea of having a machine that could be operated by one man, and which could print out anything that the user wanted using movable type (hence the name ‘type-writer’), is an old one, and dates back at least to the 1700s. While people had been trying for hundreds of years to create a workable typing-machine, it wasn’t until the mid-1800s that real progress started to be made.

The Hansen Ball

This curious machine is the Hansen Writing Ball, so named for its spherical shape. It was invented in 1865 by a priest, Rasmus Malling-Hansen. Put into production in 1870, this was the world’s first commercially-available typewriter.

The Hansen Ball was typing genesis. It was the first real typewriter. But like anything that’s the ‘first real’ of anything, the Hansen was still very much a prototype of things to come, and came with a number of annoying shortcomings. The most obvious one is that, due to the arrangement of the keys, it’s damn near impossible to read the text of what you’re typing while the paper is in the machine. It was pretty clear that something better had to be invented.

The World’s First Typewriter

Behold the first-ever commercially successful typewriter:

What you are looking at is the Sholes & Glidden typewriter. The world’s first really successful typing machine, developed in 1867. It has the familiar type-bars up the top with the roller, and the keys and the spacebar down the bottom in front of the typist. Laid out in this now-familiar manner, this typewriter became wildly popular because it was easy to use, had everything designed in an easy-to-see layout, and was the first typing machine with the now-standard “QWERTY” keyboard (where does ‘Qwerty’ come from? Take a look at the first six letters at the top left of your keyboard in front of you).

The QWERTY keyboard was designed to stop typewriter typebars jamming together by spacing out the keys and typebars of the most frequently-used letters in the English language.

Sholes and Glidden were the men who invented this machine – Christopher Latham Sholes and his friend, mechanic Carlos Glidden. With assistance from printer Samuel Soules, the three men put together their new machine in a workshop in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, U.S.A.

In time, their prototype was ready and was unveiled in 1873. Try as they might, the men couldn’t mass-produce their typewriters, and so they sold it to
a firearms manufacturer.

This firearms manufacturer was looking to make more things than just guns. They were already making mechanical sewing-machines, and they saw this new ‘typing-machine’ as the next big thing, and snatched it up.

The name of this company?

E. Remington & Sons.

To this day, Remington typewriters are still considered among the best in the world, along with Ollivetti, Royal and Smith-Corona.

The Sholes & Glidden typewriter was renamed the Remginton No. 1. Although it was fairly practical, it still had a few shortcomings – you were still unable to see what you were typing on the paper. And the typebars only had capital letters on them. But it was at least better than the Hansen Writing Ball.

Improving the Typewriter

The Remington No. 1. was successful, but only moderately so. The shortcomings mentioned above slowed its acceptance by society, and the relative complexity of its operation meant that special people (typists!) had to be trained in using this new machine.

By the the 1880s and 90s, typewriters had improved markedly in design. Now, you could see what you were typing as you typed, due to a rearrangement of the typebars and the manner in which they struck the paper. You could type in both upper and lowercase letters and typebars didn’t tangle up and jam as much as they uesd to. By the turn of the century, the modern mechanical typewriter as we know it, was developed.

The Impact of the Typewriter

The impact of the typewriter was amazing. For the first time in history, a person could write faster than what he could with a pen. He didn’t need to keep dipping his dip-pen into an inkwell. His writing remained neat, constant and level throughout the entire word…sentence…line…page…document!

The typewriter made everything faster, neater, easier and more standardised and uniform. The typewriter also saw the entrance of women into the business workforce for the first time. Secretaries hammered away at their machines, typing out copy and speeches, reports, essays and memoranda. The typewriter was changing everything.

Once, writers had to handwrite everything. Now, they could type it up. Some of the greatest stories in the world were typed up on typewriters, and some typewriter-brands became famously associated with various authors.

Typewriter Lingo

Ever since the 1980s, the typewriter has become less and less of a business machine or desktop staple, and more and more a historical curiosity. But to this day, we still use a lot of typewriter jargon in our everyday lives.

Don’t believe me?

C.C.

You see this on your email textboxes all the time. “C.C.”, stands for “CARBON COPY”. In the days of typewriters, to make a carbon-copy meant to sandwich two pieces of paper around a sheet of carbon-paper. All three pieces of paper were then cranked into the typewriter. When a typebar struck the ribbon, the ink would imprint itself onto the first sheet. The force of the typebar hitting the page would press some of the dye out of the sheet of carbon-paper and imprint the same letter onto the second sheet of paper behind it. This second sheet of paper would be called the ‘carbon-copy’.

Return/Enter

The most important key on a keyboard. It opens windows, closes folders, starts new lines, begins movies and does so many things in computer-games.

But have you ever noticed that this oh-so-important key, locted on the right of your keyboard, isn’t always called ‘ENTER’?

On some keyboards, it’s called ‘RETURN’.

Why?

The ‘Return’ or ‘Enter’ key is descendant from the typewriter, back when you started a new line and returned the carriage to the extreme right by pulling on the carriage-release & return lever.

Shift

Aah, the shift-key. The bane of civilised internet-users.

But why is it called a shift-key?

The Shift Key, the one that transforms your lowercase letters into CAPITALS, is a holdover from typewriter days. It gets its name because pressing this key on the typewriter quite literally ‘shifted’ the keys. It moved the basket (the semicircular collection of typebars) up so that when a key was pressed, the capital of a letter would strike the ribbon and mark the paper, instead of its equivalent lowercase letter.

The hammerheads of all typewriter-bars actually have two letters (or other appropriate symbol on it) instead of one. The regular letters or symbols struck the ribbon and paper when the typewriter was in default mode, but pressing the shift-key shifted the basket so that capital letters (or symbols such as the $-sign or the &-sign), on a particular hammerhead would strike the ribbon and paper instead.

Back then, just as today, the Shift key was operated by the pinky-finger. Today, it’s pretty easy to hold down Shift and just TYPE LIKE THIS.

But try doing that with a mechanical typewriter and you’ll probably sprain something. So to combat this, you had…

CAPSLOCK

The Shift-Lock or Capitals-Lock (“CAPSLOCK”) key was introduced to hold the basket of typebars in the capitals-position while typing out headings or other parts of a document that had to stand out. This function allowed the typist to type out long sections of capitalised text without putting extra strain on the pinky-fingers which would otherwise have to have held the shift-key (and the entire basket of typebars) in-place while this operation was completed.

Backspace

Typewriters have the famous shortcoming of not allowing the typist to delete or remove previously typed text. And yet…they have a key called ‘Backspace’, a key that, if pressed on a modern computer keyboard, deletes previously-typed letters.

So what’s the point?

The backspace key shifted the carriage back one or more typespaces when it was necessary to type in more text on a particular line (such as when filling out forms and so-forth).

Typewriter Components

Typewriters are complex machines. What are the various elements of a typewriter called?

The bed of keys is obviously the keyboard. The long thing that slides back and forth along the top of the machine is the carriage. The semicircular row of typebars (that fly up when a key is pressed) is called the basket. The two rollers on either side that scroll in the paper are called the platen-knobs. The round drum on the top of the carriage which the paper curls around is called the platen. The tray behind the platen which the paper rests on is the paper-table.

On the left of the carriage are two levers. They are the carriage-release lever, and the carriage-return lever. The release-lever sends the carriage back to the starting position. The carriage-return lever starts a new line. More modern typewriters chucked out the return-lever and the carriage-release lever performed both functions simultaneously.

The two tabs that held the paper against the platen (to stop it wiggling around) were called the paper-fingers. To get the paper-fingers to release their grip on your hard work, you had the paper-release lever. To shift the carriage freely from left to right, you had the secondary carriage-lever, that allowed you to unlock the carriage and move it freely and then lock it back into place and resume typing (handy for creating centered headlines, lists, etc, without constantly pressing the spacebar and wasting valuable inches of ribbon).

When a key was pressed, a typebar would fly up and strike the ribbon and mark the paper. The middle of the typewriter, between the two round ribbon-spools had a small square or rectangular window set into it, which each key would aim for when it hit the paper. This was the type-guide. It did double-duty in ensuring that every key would hit the same spot and create a neat line of text, and it also held the typewriter ribbon in place, to stop it wiggling around and causing the typebars to miss it when they hit the paper.

For the typewriter to print the stuff that you wanted onto the paper, you had the typewriter ribbon, the ribbon that ran around the two ribbon-spools on either side of the typewriter, and which was impregnated with ink. Most ribbon-spools were two-toned. Black, and Red, depending on the colour of ink you wanted to use.

Last, but not least, you had every typewriter’s most famous component.

The warning-bell.

The point of the warning-bell was not to tell you to stop immediately and start a new line. The purpose of the bell was to tell you that you were reaching the end ofthe page. When the bell rang, you were obliged to finish typing your current word, then pull the carriage-release and push it back to the start to begin the new line.

The Evolution of the Typewriter

The typewriter lasted for over a hundred years. Well into the 1980s and 90s. It wasn’t until computers became really practical that typewriters stopped being used. But until then, you had everything from mechanical typewriters, electromechanical, totally electric typewriters…made from steel and then increasingly out of plastic, with all kinds of features that people invented and added to these machines to try and make them as practical and as efficient as possible.

I’m just old enough that when I was a child, I learnt to type, not on a computer, but actually on a typewriter. I used my parents’ old Canon electric typewriter to do my homework and type stories on. I still remember the electronic ‘Beep!’ of the warning buzzer and pressing the ‘Return’ key and watching the carriage slide back to the start-point. I even remember learning to change the typewriter ribbon by myself when the machine ran out of ink, and unravelling old ribbons and holding them up to the light to read all the words I’d typed on them!

Gosh, typewriters are fun to muck around with when you’re 10 years old…

Desktop and Portable Typewriters

The typewriter, just like the computer, came in two varieties. The desktop typewriter, and the portable typewriter. It’s pretty easy to tell which is which, purely based on size.

This is a desktop typewriter:

Made of solid steel, as you can see, this Remington 12 is quite a monster. These typewriters were so huge and heavy that in some cases, carpenters would build special typewriter desks just to support their massive weight, and to cope with the vibrations caused by thousands of keystrokes and hammer-strikes every single day.

It’s probably not surprising then, that typewriter manufacturers created portable typewriters.

This is the Remington Portable #7. As you can see, it’s MUCH smaller and more compact than the much chunkier and heavier desktop model up above. These typewriters were designed for journalists, teachers, office-workers and writers who did a lot of travelling. They were the laptop-computers of their day. And just like laptops, they came with their own carrying-cases.

The Typewriter Today

The typewriter finally ended in the 1990s when practical home-computers began to take over and the typewriter was consigned to history. But that doesn’t mean they’re forgotten. A lot of famous writers today still use them. Until he died a couple of years back, children’s author Brian Jacques (pronounced ‘Jakes’), creator of the fuzzy little Redwall series, would type up all his stories on a mechanical typewriter (because he found computers too complicated to use). Actor Tom Hanks is an avid typewriter collector.

Blind people still use a variation of the typewriter today. Perhaps you’ve seen one of these?

It’s called a Perkins Brailler. It’s a typewriter for the blind, and many blind people still use them today. Made of solid steel, these machines punch out the raised dots known as ‘braille’, which blind people read with their fingertips. The six keys, pressed in various combinations, punch out the six-dot braille code into special, extra-thick braille-paper (ordinary paper doesn’t work on a brailler because the force of the keys punching into the paper would rip it to pieces). The sliding toggle on the top is the carriage. Pressing on it slides it back to the left, or to any other point along the line, allowing a brailler to start typing on any point of the page.

I used to be acquainted with a number of blind students and although I never used one, I saw Perkins Braillers on a regular basis. They’re probably the closest thing to a typewriter still used on a daily basis today.

Last, but not least, let us never forget one of the most indelliable marks that the typewriter has left on modern society. A little piece of music written by composer Leroy Anderson in the middle of the last century, simply called…

‘The Typewriter’:

…A piece of music that can only be played successfully with a vintage mechanical typewriter (they’re the only ones which create enough noise, and which have the distinctive sounds to work with the music).