When David Urquhart died
in 1877, The Times wrote,
Whatever may be thought of
his political idées fixes, he has, at least conferred one great
boon upon England in the introduction among us of the Turkish bath, the
one Turkish institution which it is certainly desirable to adopt.
When historians attempt to
sum up the life of this idiosyncratic, charismatic, idealistic, but in
the main forgotten, politician, this is almost the only positive view
agreed by all.
Yet in the active years of
his political life he was rarely out of the news—a nineteenth century
practitioner of pressure group manipulation—warning, to an obsessive
degree, of what he saw as the imminent Russian threat to European peace,
while eccentrically attempting to have Palmerston impeached as a traitor
to his country.
To promulgate his ideas he
set up a series of workingmen’s Foreign Affairs Committees whose
members organised public meetings, and wrote letters to newspapers and
Members of Parliament, attempting to influence public opinion and
promote a more pro-Turkish foreign policy.
I don’t intend here to
examine Urquhart’s political views, or try to assess whether such a
concentrated political effort had any lasting effect. But it is worth
noting, as Asa Briggs was one of the first to point out, that his
creation of the committees, his political education of their members,
and the loyalty they showed him, were remarkable by any standard.
There were, at one stage,
over a hundred committees, though many comprised only a handful of
active members. The greatest concentrations were in the north and the
midlands and all were organized, on a day-to-day basis, by Urquhart’s
highly intelligent and capable wife Harriet, together with two or three
of his closest friends and associates.
To his contemporaries,
Urquhart was the quintessential guru of the so-called Turkish bath—a
bath in which the bather sweated in a series of rooms heated by hot dry
air, each room being successively hotter than the previous one. In fact,
the bath was not intrinsically Turkish, but a humid, watered down
version of the ancient Roman thermae.
Urquhart returned from
consular service in Constantinople in 1837, but it wasn’t until around
1850 that he started the campaign which eventually led to the opening of
the first hot-air baths to be built in the British Isles since the Roman
occupation.
The foreign affairs
committees became the nucleus of a Turkish Bath Movement. Urquhart
wanted each committee to open a Turkish bath, not only to spread a
sympathetic understanding of what was perceived as Turkish culture, not
only to provide cleansing facilities for working-class people without
easy access to running water, but also to support committee members
financially, enabling them to become more politically active than was
practical in their existing workplaces.
The cause of the bath was
also promulgated in Urquhart’s political paper, The Free
Press, which published progress reports on the experimental baths
being built by Dr Richard Barter and himself at St Anne’s Hydropathic
Establishment in Ireland.
With local committee
members, Urquhart addressed public meetings about the bath, offering
advice and support across the country. Under his guidance, with his
help, and sometimes also his financial support, over thirty-five Turkish
baths were set up by foreign affairs committees, or by one or more of
their members. These included a co-operative bath at Rochdale, where
some of the Rochdale Pioneers also belonged to the Rochdale foreign
affairs committee.
In less than a decade, as
a result of Barter’s influence in Ireland and Urquhart’s on the
mainland, there were Turkish baths in most of the main towns of the
British Isles, and in many smaller ones besides.
Urquhart’s influence
spread to countries within the Empire, with Turkish baths in Victorian
cites such as Victoria in Canada and Melbourne in Australia.
The one (shown below) in Sydney was opened in 1883, but the first in
Sydney was also the first in Australia. This was the establishment in
Spring Street, opened as early as 1859
by Dr John Le Gay Brereton.
These baths had a direct
link with David Urquhart, even though Urquhart's own Jermyn Street
Hammam was not opened until 1862. For Brereton had, for a while
in 1858, acted as visiting physician at the Leeds Road Turkish Baths set
up in Bradford by the Bradford foreign affairs committee 'under the
advice and direction of Mr Urquhart'.
And on 10 July 1860, shortly after his arrival in Australia, he had
written to Urquhart to ask his advice 'as our one true leader' in the
'Movement' for the restoration of the Turkish bath.
Urquhart’s influence
extended even to an ex-colony when, on 6 October 1862, Dr Charles
Sheppard opened the first Victorian Turkish bath in America at Laight
Street, New York,
to be followed two years
later by Drs Miller, Wood & Co who opened what was probably the
first Turkish bath in Manhattan at 13 Laight Street.
The most obvious sign of
success was generally considered to be his involvement in the setting up
of the London & Provincial Turkish Bath Company, the joint stock
company which owned the London Hammam at 76 Jermyn Street, the
excellence and authenticity of which were recognised even in
Constantinople.
Success enough, surely?
Yet in his recent epitome
of nineteenth century British history, The Victorians, A N Wilson
writes of Urquhart’s Turkish Bath Movement only that he campaigned
(semi-successfully) for the re-introduction of the Turkish bath in
England.
Wilson’s copious notes
include none relating directly to Urquhart. That and, it has to be said,
the existence of a couple of unchecked chronological errors, seem to
suggest that Wilson has not gone into Urquhart’s Turkish bath work to
any great extent.
Is Wilson’s
parenthetical ‘semi-successfully’ just a throwaway comment,
or is Wilson implying that Urquhart was even less successful than is
generally recognised? To attempt an answer, we need to consider not just
tangible achievements, but whether Urquhart achieved his own
objectives.
2:
A couple of books and a couple of Acts