50 years ago today...

I remember exactly where I was.  I was on my high school's debate team and we were off at a tournament.  For practical reasons, our coach always drove us to tournaments; he would then serve as a judge on some of the debates not involving us, and we would all gather after the last debate of the day in some barren classroom to hear the results announced and get feedback on our performances. 

On that day, after the last afternoon debate, he didn't meet us.  After a brief search, we found him in his car, listening to the news on the car radio, in tears.  The news itself was startling, but the sight of encountering one of the pillars of the school faculty, our history teacher, unabashedly crying made the moment surreal for me.

As I was writing this, I decided to look up the National Forensic League's official debate topic for that year.  I remembered speaking as Second Affirmative, but didn't remember the topic.  Here it is:

1963-1964
Resolved: That Social Security benefits should be extended to include complete medical care.

Wow.  How's that for a relevance stretching half a century into the future.  I wish I still had my file box of 3x5 cards.

Readers who have sharp memories of 11/22/63 are welcome to offer them in the Comments.

"Left-footed" explained

I encountered a new term while reading "Good Omens" yesterday:

"He quite liked nuns.  Not that he was a, you know, left-footer or anything like that.  No, when it came to avoiding going to church, the church he stolidly avoided going to was St. Cecil and All Angels, no-nonsense C. of E..."

My wife found an explanation in an old column at The Guardian:

Why are Catholics sometimes called 'left-footers'? 

The saying turns on a traditional distinction between left- and right-handed spades in Irish agriculture...

Most types of digging spade in Britain and Ireland have foot-rests at the top of their blades; two-sided spades have foot-rests on each side of the shaft and socket, while an older style of one-sided spade had only one. Two-sided spades may well have been introduced by the Protestant 'planters' in the sixteenth century. By the early nineteenth century specialised spade and shovel mills in the north of Ireland were producing vast numbers of two-sided spades which came to be universally used in Ulster and strongly identified with the province.

One-sided spades with narrow blades and a foot-rest cut out of the side of the relatively larger wooden shaft continued in use in the south and west. The rural population of Gaelic Ireland retained the Catholic faith and tended also to retain the one-sided spade and 'dig with the wrong foot'. 

In fact, the two-sided spade of Ulster was generally used with the left foot whereas the one-sided spade tended to be used with the right foot. Instinctively, the 'wrong foot' of the Catholics has come to be thought of as the left foot...

--Hugh Cheape, National Museums of Scotland, Edinburgh.

The best image I've found of such a shovel in use is this one, from Jim Orr Photography -

- of a "loy spade" (from the Gaelic word laí, for spade).  His gallery of photographs of the shovel in use includes a closeup of the narrow-bladed tool (about half the width of a conventional shovel).

Top two photos from here (this one appears to me to be designed for use with the right foot) and (cropped from) here.

Addendum:  A tip of the ushanka to reader Aleksejs for finding the following explanatory video:

YouTube link.

I'll bet the ancient Irishmen would have loved to have had someone attach bicycle handlebars to their spades.

A musical instrument invented by Leonardo da Vinci... maybe (updated)

YouTube link.

A bizarre instrument combining a piano and cello has finally been played to an audience more than 500 years after it was dreamt up Leonardo da Vinci.

Da Vinci, the Italian Renaissance genius who painted the Mona Lisa, invented the ‘‘viola organista’’ - which looks like a baby grand piano – but never built it, experts say.  The viola organista has now come to life, thanks to a Polish concert pianist with a flair for instrument-making and the patience and passion to interpret da Vinci’s plans... 

 ‘‘This instrument has the characteristics of three we know: the harpsichord, the organ and the viola da gamba,’’ Zubrzycki said as he debuted the instrument at the Academy of Music in the southern Polish city of Krakow...

Sixty-one gleaming steel strings run across it, similar to the inside of a baby grand. Each is connected to the keyboard, complete with smaller black keys for sharp and flat notes. But unlike a piano, it has no hammered dulcimers. Instead, there are four spinning wheels wrapped in horse-tail hair, like violin bows. To turn them, Zubrzycki pumps a pedal below the keyboard connected to a crankshaft. As he tinkles the keys, they press the strings down onto the wheels, emitting rich, sonorous tones reminiscent of a cello, an organ and even an accordion.

More details at The Age, with a hat tip to reader Shirin for the link.

Addendum:   Some doubts have been raised as to the historical relevance of this instrument:

Basically, it appears that the instrument built by Slawomir Zubrzycki is not so much a realization of a design by Leonardo da Vinci as it is a reconstruction of the instrument described as a “Geigenwerk/GeigenInstrument, oder GeigenClavicymbel” in the second volume of Michael Praetorius’s Syntagma Musicum...

Now it’s certainly true that da Vinci made some sketches of a continuously-bowed keyboard instrument (which he dubbed the “viola organista”) , but the sketches are pretty rough, and most of them show an action that’s quite different from the one in Zubrzycki’s instrument (which uses the same rosin-coated wheels as Haiden’s geigenwerk). In short, Zubrzycki’s instrument seems to me to be a nice reconstruction of a 16th-century German instrument that just happens to share some of the characteristics of da Vinci’s imagined “viola organista” (which Haiden almost certainly knew nothing about).

More at the link, found by reader Pam!

Repaired medieval book pages

You are looking at medieval parchment - animal skin - that was stabbed, cut and stitched up. Preparing animal skin, the first step in producing a medieval book, was challenging. The parchment maker had to scrape off the fleshy bits from the one side, and the hair from the other... If the parchment maker pushed too hard while removing the unwanted parts, he would cut right through the surface, which is what happened in the images above. While some cuts were simply stitched up with a thin parchment cord, it also happened that book producers turned these defects into art. I tumbled these images from a manuscript in Uppsala a while ago, in which holes are plugged with embroidery... In the last image the material was used to attach a missing corner, producing what I tend to call a “Frankenstein page”.

From Erik Kwakkel's incomparable blog about medieval books; there are two additional images of repaired pages at the link.

See also this post.

A visual history of nuclear weapons testing

YouTube link.

"Japanese artist Isao Hashimoto has created a beautiful, undeniably scary time-lapse map of the 2053 nuclear explosions which have taken place between 1945 and 1998, beginning with the Manhattan Project's "Trinity" test near Los Alamos and concluding with Pakistan's nuclear tests in May of 1998....

Each nation gets a blip and a flashing dot on the map whenever they detonate a nuclear weapon, with a running tally kept on the top and bottom bars of the screen... It starts really slow — if you want to see real action, skip ahead to 1962 or so..."

High-rise buildings from the 16th century (Shibam, Yemen)

YouTube link.

Are you old enough to remember "card catalogues"

Not only am I old enough to remember them, but I created one of my own in the 1970s, with thousands of references on 3x5" cards, when I was a graduate student.

Photo of the Library of Congress in 1941, from the interesting Vintage Libraries tumblr.

A comparison of trephination techniques

"This skull shows four different instruments used for trephination. The instruments include a shark’s tooth, a flint-pointed bow drill, a flint scraper and obsidian – a naturally occurring volcanic glass. Each instrument makes a different type and size of hole. This skull was owned by Dr Thomas Wilson Parry (1866-1945), an English doctor who did extensive practical research into Neolithic trephination instruments and techniques."

Text and images from Science Museum (U.K.), via Sutured Infection.

When Hollywood collaborated with the Nazis

You read the title correctly.  The reason for the logical disconnect is that the time period in question is the 1930s, before the war and the most overt atrocities, as explained in a Harvard Magazine review of a new book:

Based on nearly nine years of archival research in Germany and the United States, the book reveals a surprisingly cooperative relationship between studio executives and German officials throughout the 1930s... MGM head Louis B. Mayer made changes to films at the request of the German consul in Los Angeles in the 1930s...

In 1932, six months before Hitler came to power, Germany adopted a law stipulating that any film company caught making anti-German (or later, anti-Nazi) films would be prohibited from doing business in the country. For studio executives who feared losing access to German audiences, it was a powerful threat. Before World War I, Germany had been the second-largest market for U.S. films. By the 1930s, the studios were no longer making money there, but they hoped business would improve in time. Urwand says Hollywood executives also worried that if they left Germany and Hitler started a war, they would be expelled from any countries he invaded. So studio heads, many of whom were Jewish, collectively boycotted a proposed film, The Mad Dog of Europe, about the mistreatment of European Jews, and agreed to fire most of their Jewish salesmen in Germany...

Commentators have drawn parallels between the Nazi collaboration that Urwand describes and Hollywood’s current relationship with China, a burgeoning market for American films. Urwand stresses that “China isn’t Nazi Germany,” but he acknowledges some potential parallels. “Hollywood is not going to make a strongly anti-Chinese film at this point, just as it didn’t make anti-German films when it was trying to preserve its business with Germany.”

More at the link.

Photo: ©Hulton-Deutsch Collection/Corbis Images

For a sea burial, the last stitch goes through the nose

A post by John Farrier at Neatorama today made note of a longstanding custom for sea burials by the Royal Navy:

On one of the ships I sailed as a cadet in the Merchant Navy in the early 1960s, there was a death on board off the West African coast. As there were two doctors on the ship to sign the death certificate and no refrigerated space, it was decided to "commit the body to the deep."

The mate sent me down to assist the bo'sun to prepare and stitch up the corpse, as he said I would be unlikely to witness such an occurrence again. The bo'sun, a North Sea Chinaman (ie, he hailed from the Orkney Isles), was in his sixties and had performed the task several times before. He was a deft hand with the palm [leather glove] and needle used to sew the heavy canvas into a shroud around the body, and when he came to the final stitches around the face he pushed the large triangular-shaped needle right through the nose. I winced, and he looked up at me and said, "That's the law of the sea, the last stitch through the nose, if that don't wake him up I know he's dead." 

I found confirmation at Exeter Flotilla, with a notation that the person who sewed up bodies for burial was paid a guinea per body.

I can't help but think of how this custom might have doomed the Count of Monte Cristo.

And btw, the phrase in the citation "He was a deft hand with the palm and needle" is interesting in and of itself.  See Wherein I learn what a collarmaker's palm is.

Photo from a brief instructional on how to make bunny whiskers: "When you have several loops, remove the needle from the thread, even up the length of the loops, then use sharp scissors to cut the loops open and trim the whiskers to the length you prefer."

One-man band

Slightly modified from the original, via Alabaster.

Sling bullet from the 4th century BC

From the collections of the incomparable British Museum:

Lead sling bullet; almond shape; a winged thunderbolt on one side and on the other, in high relief, the inscription DEXAI "Catch!"

Shot of this type have been excavated from the Pnyx at Athens, associated with the Sullan siege of the city (TER).

The twerking-equivalent of your grandmother's era

YouTube link.

A scene from a 1910 movie.

Asta Nielsen's erotic 'Gaucho' dance caused an uproar when 'Afgrunden' (directed by Peter Urban Gad) was released in 1910. Her debut role made her a star immediately - the first film diva. Since then, Nielsen remained popular because of her sex appeal, sense of style and androgynous looks.

Seventy of Nielsen's 74 films were made in Germany where she was known simply as Die Asta (The Asta). Noted for her large dark eyes, mask-like face and boyish figure, Nielsen most often portrayed strong-willed passionate women trapped by tragic consequences.

Due to the erotic nature of her performances, Nielsen's films were heavily censored in the United States and her work remained relatively obscure to American audiences. She is credited with transforming movie acting from overt theatricality to a more subtle naturalistic style... Nielsen contracted for $80,000 a year, then the highest salary for a film star.

Via Miss Cellania.

How to cook a unicorn ("Taketh one unicorne...")

A long-lost medieval cookbook, containing recipes for hedgehogs, blackbirds and even unicorns, has been discovered at the British Library...

Experts believe that the cookbook was compiled by Geoffrey Fule, who worked in the kitchens of Philippa of Hainault, Queen of England (1328-1369)...

After recipes for herring, tripe and codswallop (fish stew, a popular dish in the Middle Ages) comes that beginning "Taketh one unicorne". The recipe calls for the beast to be marinaded in cloves and garlic, and then roasted on a griddle... 

Additional information and two more images at the British Library's Medieval Manuscripts blog, where it is also noted that -

The recipe for cooking blackbirds is believed to be the origin of the traditional English nursery rhyme "Sing a song of sixpence / A pocket full of rye / Four-and-twenty blackbirds / Baked in a pie."

Via Curiosités de Titam. 

Addendum: After you enjoy reading this, be sure to read the relevant comments by Margaret and Shaun.

How "The Elephant Man" was exploited

 

Not by the sideshow, but by the medical establishment:

There is another story that casts a different light on what happened. The memoirs of Tom Norman, Merrick’s London manager, are surely as biased as Treves’. But as one of the most respected showmen of his day, Norman’s account challenges head on Treves’ claim that Merrick was ultimately better off in the hospital than at the freakshow...

Most Victorian freaks, however, actually earned a comfortable living. Many were free agents who negotiated the terms of their exhibition and could ask for a salary or a share of the profits. They sold souvenirs to the crowds to make extra money. The freakshow was thus an important economic resource for working people whose deformities prevented them undertaking other forms of labour. Indeed, freak performers did not consider their exhibitions to be obscene or degrading. Rather, they saw themselves as little different from other entertainers...

During the two years he was on display in Europe, he was able to save more than £50 – a sizeable sum for a working-class man. In fact, Merrick earned more from his exhibition than his manager. They shared the take evenly, but Norman paid for the rent of the venue, food and lodging...

In the hospital, Merrick was kept largely confined to his rooms. When he ventured too far outside them, he was quickly shepherded back, lest he frighten other patients. Treves said his intention in providing for Merrick was to save him from the humiliation of public exhibition. However, his charge was constantly visited by curious members of high society. Like the masses who attended freakshows, they came out of a prurient fascination with Merrick’s grotesque body rather than merely to “cheer his confined existence”...

The Elephant Man’s hospitalisation sprang from a benevolent desire to help this “poor fellow”. But, for Merrick, it may have been little different from entering the workhouse. As a permanent resident, supported entirely by charitable donations, he was rendered a dependent member of “the deserving poor”. Norman argued that Merrick’s “only wish was to be free and independent”. This could not happen while he remained an inmate of the hospital where, his former manager argued, he must have felt as if “he were a prisoner and living on charity”. Treves maintained that Merrick was “happy every hour of the day”. But Norman’s son unearthed the testimony of a hospital porter who claimed that Merrick asked more than once: “Why can’t I go back to Mr Norman?” 

More information and illustrations at The Public Domain Review.

Duluth's original "transporter bridge"

One of the landmarks of the harbor at Duluth, Minnesota is its aerial lift bridge (see photo at right).  Before the lift bridge was created, the canal was traversed via the "transporter bridge" (shown in the top photo) - the first of only two such bridges ever constructed in the United States (there are only twelve transporter bridges in the world).

When it was completed in 1905, the Aerial Bridge's gondola had a capacity of 60 short tons (54 tonne) and could carry 350 people plus wagons, streetcars, or automobiles. A trip across the canal took about one minute, and the ferry car moved across once every five minutes during busy times of the day.

Posted for reader Sarah, who lives in Duluth and who will probably be interested in this 1905 photo showing Duluth with no trees on the hill (?presumably as the result of prior logging?).

Top photo from Shorpy, and like all Shorpy images is best appreciated in the larger-than-wallpaper size at the original link.

The U.S. supported chemical warfare by Saddam against Iran

The U.S. government may be considering military action in response to chemical strikes near Damascus. But a generation ago, America's military and intelligence communities knew about and did nothing to stop a series of nerve gas attacks far more devastating than anything Syria has seen, Foreign Policy has learned.

In 1988, during the waning days of Iraq's war with Iran, the United States learned through satellite imagery that Iran was about to gain a major strategic advantage by exploiting a hole in Iraqi defenses. U.S. intelligence officials conveyed the location of the Iranian troops to Iraq, fully aware that Hussein's military would attack with chemical weapons, including sarin, a lethal nerve agent...

U.S. officials have long denied acquiescing to Iraqi chemical attacks, insisting that Hussein's government never announced he was going to use the weapons. But retired Air Force Col. Rick Francona, who was a military attaché in Baghdad during the 1988 strikes, paints a different picture. "The Iraqis never told us that they intended to use nerve gas. They didn't have to. We already knew," he told Foreign Policy.

According to recently declassified CIA documents and interviews with former intelligence officials like Francona, the U.S. had firm evidence of Iraqi chemical attacks beginning in 1983. At the time, Iran was publicly alleging that illegal chemical attacks were carried out on its forces, and was building a case to present to the United Nations. But it lacked the evidence implicating Iraq, much of which was contained in top secret reports and memoranda sent to the most senior intelligence officials in the U.S. government. The CIA declined to comment for this story.

 In contrast to today's wrenching debate over whether the United States should intervene to stop alleged chemical weapons attacks by the Syrian government, the United States applied a cold calculus three decades ago to Hussein's widespread use of chemical weapons against his enemies and his own people. The Reagan administration decided that it was better to let the attacks continue if they might turn the tide of the war. And even if they were discovered, the CIA wagered that international outrage and condemnation would be muted...

You can read more about this at Foreign Policy.

Erasable ivory plates

Thomas Jefferson's reusable "notepad":

In his pockets, Jefferson carried such a variety of portable instruments for making observations and measurements that he's been dubbed a "traveling calculator." Among his collection of pocket-sized devices were scales, drawing instruments, a thermometer, a surveying compass, a level, and even a globe. To record all these measurements, Jefferson carried a small ivory notebook (pictured) on which he could write in pencil. Back in his Cabinet, or office, he later copied the information into any of seven books in which he kept records about his garden, farms, finances, and other concerns; he then erased the writing in the ivory notebook. 

Via The Appendix and Erik Kwakkel.

Addendum: A hat tip to reader Walter Susong, who noted in a comment that modern versions of these are available:

"Based on an original that Jefferson owned. These are made of sturdy brass stock with 4 old ivory pages and a pencil. Use this for making notes in the field and just erase with a wet finger when you are done."

Madame du Coudray's 18th century midwife-teaching mannequin

Angélique-Marguerite du Coudray was a famous 18th century midwife and designed this mannequin to teach midwife trainees about delivering babies. Louis XV learned of her expertise and asked her to set up courses throughout France. From 1759-1779 she traveled the country with her mannequin and published her Abrégé de l’Art des accouchements (Abridged Art of Child Delivery).

From Eyes to the stage pilgrim, via The Macrabre and the Bold and The Oddment Emporium.

A wooden railway discovered in Newcastle

Fascinating; I'd never heard of these.  As reported in The History Blog:

Archaeologists excavating the site of the Neptune Shipyard in Newcastle upon Tyne, northeastern England, before development have discovered a 25-meter (82 feet) stretch of an 18th century wooden railway. These rails weren’t transporting trains — they wouldn’t be invented until the next century — but rather wooden wagons, aka chaldrons, pulled by horses. This is a section of the Willington Waggonway built in the 1760s to transport coal from several local collieries to the river Tyne...

...the networks of waggonways were essential to the development of the industry. They enabled collieries to transport far more coal than wagons on traditional roads. One horse could deliver between 10 to 13 long tons of coal per trip along the waggonways, four times more than that same horse could deliver off track. They were built like Roman aqueducts, at a slight downhill incline from colliery to dock, whenever possible so gravity could help drive the wagons...

 It’s a discovery of major historical significance, not just because of its importance to the history of the region, but because the rail gauge is standard gauge, still the most widely used rail width in the world... 

More information at The History Blog, especially re the development of standard gauge.  You learn something every day.

Photo cropped from the original at The Journal.