But
while Urquhart was delighted that at last progress on building a Turkish bath
was being made, he was also, with his wife Harriet, heavily involved with his
political work.
Neither
the end of his diplomatic career, nor an unsatisfactory period as MP for
Stafford, had dimmed his interest in foreign policy, or diminished his view of
what he had to offer his country.
In
the early 1850s, the growing hostility between Russia and Turkey, which was to
lead to the Crimean War, encouraged him to create a series of political pressure
groups, starting in Newcastle-upon-Tyne.
Soon,
these Foreign Affairs Committees were also to be found in Preston and
Manchester, and nearly thirty could be found in Yorkshire alone.
At
their peak, there were well over one hundred of them, though many comprised just
a handful of members. But, surprisingly, his support was increasingly coming
from ordinary working-men.
The
time he spent at Blarney in 1856 was, therefore, not only the most promising for
the development of the Turkish bath, but was also the period of greatest
activity of the Foreign Affairs Committees which were, as Asa Briggs put it, not
so much a cohesive movement as a series of bouts of agitation.
A
year earlier, in April 1855, the very atypical secretary of the Sheffield
Foreign Affairs Committee, Isaac Ironside, a wealthy, radical local councillor,
bought himself a local newspaper, The Sheffield Free Press.
Starting
with regular coverage of the Sheffield committee’s meetings, it developed over
the following months into what was, in effect, the mouthpiece of Urquhart’s
movement.
Since
Urquhart himself contributed much of the political input, the editor was not too
surprised to receive an article on Turkish bath at Blarney, signed ‘Caritas’,
Harriet Urquhart’s pseudonym when writing political articles for the Morning
Advertiser.
And
two months later, on 21 June 1856, two unusual, and very different articles,
appeared. One was the first of a series called Revelations of the diplomatic
history of the eighteenth century by a writer signing himself Dr Karl Marx
and the second, presumably aimed at the same readership, was an anonymous
article headed Introduction of the Turkish bath into Ireland describing
the laying of the foundation stone for a new, larger Turkish bath at St Anne’s.
A
month later, an article entitled Introduction of the Turkish bath into our
towns and cities appeared. Its author wrote:
There
appears promise of a 'movement' in favour of water and cleanliness;
and it would not be astonishing if Turkish Baths became the rage, and succeeded
the small bonnets and coloured shirts.
Soon
a shorter version of the paper, omitting purely local news, was published
simultaneously in London as The Free Press.
For
some months, both papers continued with this mix of foreign affairs and Turkish
baths, though the Sheffield paper ceased publication at the end of 1857.
Some
questioned the connection between foreign affairs and the bath.
Some
surprise has been expressed that we should make mention of the bath in a
political journal. That such objections should be made is a proof that the
subject is not understood and requires to be pressed upon public attention…
It
is not only a remedy and preventative of disease, a sweetener of the temper and
a promoter of thorough cleanliness, but it is an antidote to intemperance and a
means of destroying the barriers which now separate entirely the lower from the
higher classes.
No
barrier of ceremony, of pride, or of habit, is so great as that of filth which,
in these times, especially in large towns, separates the poor from the rich, as
if they were not members of the same state, but, as Disraeli has phrased it,
'the two nations.'
Many
of the articles and news items inspired committee members to write about their
own aspirations.
After
reading about the party Urquhart gave for workers building the new Turkish bath
at St Anne’s, Charles Bartholomew, secretary of the Bristol Foreign Affairs
Committee, wrote telling him that he intended to build a Turkish bath in
Bristol.
…The
First thing I have done to impress upon the minds of a number of intelligent
Working men the nicissety of at once introducing it into our City before our
Condition get any worse.
Then
Sir us Working Men Sum of us Masons, Carpenters Glazers & Smiths. We will
set to work nights till its completed. I shall if possible get the Committee to
do it so after wards it may be its property.
Bartholomew
was unsuccessful on this occasion but, four years later, he did open a Turkish
bath in Bristol, the first of seven which he owned on his death, in 1889, at the
age of 59.
This
son of an impoverished farm labourer became a gifted publicist for the Turkish
bath movement.
He
lectured, wrote pamphlets, advised Borough Councils on how to construct their
own Turkish baths…
And
named one of his sons Urquhart in gratitude.
Like
most of the committeemen, Bartholomew was barely educated, yet highly
intelligent. Urquhart chose carefully those whom he wished to run his
committees, and trained them intensively in reading and understanding abstruse
government Blue Papers and diplomatic treaties, in public speaking and logical
thinking, in organising meetings, in writing letters to newspapers and their
members of Parliament—and, tellingly, in the use of Socratic dialogue as a
method of converting an opponent.
4.
The committees and their Turkish baths