鈥淕RAND and unapproachable discovery!鈥� declared the pages of Scientific American.
It was the 1850s 鈥� an age of invention that saw the birth of the modern sewing machine, the safety elevator and the machine gun. Readers squinting at the small print below the eye-catching headline may have been perplexed to find an advert for Joseph C. Gayetty鈥檚 Medicated Paper, America鈥檚 first commercial toilet paper 鈥� the 鈥済reatest blessing of the age鈥�, he trumpeted.
Gayetty鈥檚 announcement proved to be surprisingly provocative. Whereas loo roll may now be considered an essential home comfort, in the 1850s the idea of forking out good money for mere 鈥渂um fodder鈥� was greeted by a chorus of mocking laughter from scientists. Medics were particularly concerned by Gayetty鈥檚 assertion that his new paper could cure piles, and soon took to the pages of leading medical journals to lampoon the loo-roll pioneer.
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Despite his grandiose claims, Gayetty was not the first to 鈥渄iscover鈥� toilet paper. As with the compass, the wheelbarrow, silk and gunpowder, the Chinese had got there hundreds of years earlier. Paper had been circulating in China since the 2nd century and it didn鈥檛 take long for people to apply it to their behinds. Even the Emperor Hongwu, a brutal despot ruling in the 14th century, showed his more sensitive side by ordering 15,000 sheets of extra-soft, perfumed toilet paper for his imperial household.
But the innovation did not spread to the west. The yeomen of Britain were content with fistfuls of sheep鈥檚 wool or leaves (leading to an excellent medieval joke: Q. What is the cleanest leaf? A. The holly, for no one will wipe his arse on it). Aristocrats would deploy scraps of linen or cloth. Or rather, they鈥檇 have someone deploy them on their behalf 鈥� a servant鈥檚 manual from the 14th century advises the 鈥済room of the stool鈥� to be ready with an 鈥渁rse-wispe鈥� at the critical moment.
With the advance of the printing press, people soon turned to the disused pages of pamphlets and books. As the 17th century author Thomas Browne wrote: 鈥淗e that writes abundance of books, and gets abundance of children, may in some sense be said to be a benefactor to the public, because he furnishes it with bumfodder and soldiers.鈥�
All this was to change in the 19th century. Gayetty was not alone in his attempt to commercialise toilet paper. British firm GW Atkins & Co, who were UK market leaders in the 1890s, claimed to have held a royal warrant since 1817. This, however, may have just been marketing bumf.
In any case, it was Gayetty鈥檚 Medicated Paper that caused the biggest storm, almost as soon as it joined such products as Upham鈥檚 Hair Gloss and Kellinger鈥檚 Liniment on the groaning shelves of US drugstores. The sheets, Gayetty declared, were 鈥渄elicate as a bank-note and as stout as foolscap鈥�. But what really riled the medical establishment was his boast that it could 鈥渃ure and prevent piles鈥�. Printer鈥檚 ink is not, in fact, a 鈥渞ank poison鈥�, as he claimed, and does not cause haemorrhoids 鈥� but that didn鈥檛 stop many companies from pushing loo roll as a remedy until the 1930s.
鈥淲hat really riled the medical establishment was the boast that it could cure and prevent piles鈥�
With their breeches down
Medical journals were soon awash with anti-Gayetty satire. 鈥淗omoeopathy, hydropathy, et id homne genus [sic] must now hide their diminished heads,鈥� sneered the New Orleans Medical News and Hospital Gazette. 鈥淢r Gayetty of New York City has found that the public mind is prepared for anything whatever in the shape of humbuggery, and he at once, with true Yankee readiness, administers to their rapacious appetites in a manner to be admired, if humbuggery is ever admirable.鈥�
In a more ribald vein, the Medical and Surgical Reporter wrote that 鈥渆mpiricism has changed tactics. Its usual bold effrontery is turned to attack the public in the rear. Mr Gayetty of New York intends to take advantage of them by catching them with their breeches down.鈥�
It wasn鈥檛 long before The Lancet caught the whiff of good sport to be had. 鈥淸It] might be of use to the surgeons who take the rectal region under their care to know that the prognosis, pathology and therapeutics of [piles] are simplified in an uncommon degree, and that their occupation is now gone to the wall,鈥� the writer sniffed. 鈥淎ll that is required is a simple piece of paper with the name 鈥楪ayetty鈥� stamped on it.鈥�
Of course, Gayetty鈥檚 product was no mere flash in the pan. Even if it didn鈥檛 really cure piles, the public must have appreciated the comfort of dedicated toilet tissue, and it soon spawned a host of copycat products. However, consumer expectation does not seem to have been high. Northern Tissue鈥檚 declaration that its paper was 鈥渟plinter free!鈥� in the 1930s gives a startling indication of how eye-watering some early offerings must have been. Today, the toilet paper industry is worth $3.5 billion annually in the US alone, with the average individual using more than 20,000 sheets a year.
But could we now be entering the twilight of the Gayetty era? Just as the Chinese revolutionised bum-cleansing with their high-tech wipes, their neighbours across the East China Sea in Kokura, Japan, have applied third-millennium science to bringing the practice up to date with the Washlet.
Launched in 1980 by Toto after years of research in bottom-centric ergonomics, the Washlet delivered a triple-whammy of toilet comforts: its heated seat keeps your buttocks cosy, a jet of warm water hoses you down and a gust of air dries you off. By 2009, 72 per cent of Japanese households were equipped with a Washlet or equivalent device.
So Gayetty鈥檚 鈥渄iscovery鈥� may one day become as obsolete as the steam whistles, gage cocks and Ohio mowers that also featured on Scientific American鈥榮 classified ads page that week. On the other hand, 鈥渜uack remedies鈥� can be surprisingly resilient, as pointed out by this review of a new journal in 1869. 鈥淭he price of The Homoeopathic Quarterly is $1 per annum,鈥� the author notes. 鈥淣either so cheap nor so serviceable as Gayetty鈥檚 Medicated Paper.鈥�
