Short History Of... - Introducing: The Curious History of Your Home

Episode Date: April 14, 2024

Noiser presents a brand new podcast: The Curious History of Your Home. In this taster episode of Noiser’s new podcast, join domestic historian Ruth Goodman as she guides you through the surprising, often epic stories behind everyday objects in your home, starting with the wallpaper. To discover more episodes, search ‘The Curious History of Your Home’ wherever you get your podcasts or follow the link https://podfollow.com/the-curious-history-of-your-home. New episodes every Tuesday. Short History Of will be back as normal next week. Get every episode of Short History Of a week early with Noiser+. You’ll also get ad-free listening, bonus material, and early access to shows across the Noiser network. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started. Or, if you’re on Spotify or Android, go to noiser.com/subscriptions. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

What's in this McDonald's bag? The McValue Meal. For $5.79 plus tax, you can get your choice of junior chicken, McDouble, or chicken snack wrap, plus small fries and a small fountain drink. So pick up a McValue Meal today at participating McDonald's restaurants in Canada. Prices exclude delivery. Hi listeners, we wanted to bring you an episode from Noise's brand new podcast. It's called The Curious History of Your Home. Look around your home. It's full of items that you probably take for granted. Bed, bath, fridge, wallpaper, dishwasher, toothpaste. In fact, hiding in plain sight,

these things have extraordinary histories. Join domestic historian Ruth Goodman as she guides you through the remarkable, often epic tales behind everyday objects. If you enjoy this taster episode, search The Curious History of Your Home in your podcast app of choice and hit follow for weekly episodes, or click the link in the episode description. It's 105 AD. We're in the ancient city of Luoyang, capital of the Eastern Han Dynasty in China. Court official Cai Lun walks through the palace gardens. It's a warm spring day, but even so, Cai is dressed in a heavy Shenyi-style robe, loosely wrapped around his body and fastened with a wide belt.

The skirt of his gown swishes with the movement of his legs. Tsai has risen to the top from humble beginnings, escaping a life of poverty by becoming a eunuch and entering imperial service. Thanks to his skill at handling palace intrigues, he has been appointed political counsellor to Emperor Hur. Tsai is also prefect of the palace workshop. He's always on the lookout for the next big invention that might gain the Emperor's approval and keep him in favour. Only today, it's a sound that draws his attention the sound of a wasp it's a large specimen

nearly an inch long with yellow and black rings on its abdomen and long yellow legs from the size, Tsai thinks she must be a queen he stoops to observe the insect as she crawls over the bark of a mulberry tree. She seems intent on one spot in particular. Her focus reminds Sai of the men in his workshop. Suddenly the wasp takes off and flies up to land on a rough, partially formed sphere hanging from one of the branches. Her nest.

Sire watches in fascination as the Queen regurgitates a sticky substance onto the edge of the flimsy structure. She appears to spread the gloop, adding a thin layer to create the walls which will dry out in the sun to form a fragile shell. The fine walls conceal a complex interior made up of hexagonal cells. Inside this precious dwelling she will lay her eggs and nurture the next generation of wasps. The Queen's industriousness fascinates I, but it also gives him an idea. He hurries back to the palace workshop. Over the next few weeks, Tsai oversees an experiment to see if he can recreate the wasp's manufacturing process, but on a larger scale. but on a larger scale.

He boils up bark flecks in a cauldron, together with hemp waste and other substances to create a viable pulp. The resulting mush is then sieved to remove excess water before being laid flat, pressed and left to dry. And that, according to legend, is how Tsai Lun invented paper. It's a charming story, but probably apocryphal. In 2006, a fragment of paper was discovered in northeast China that predates Tsai by about 100 years. discovered in northeast China that predates Tsai by about 100 years. Recent research suggests some forms of Chinese paper probably existed as early as the 3rd century BC. But even if Tsai didn't invent paper, he seems to have been responsible for some innovation in the production process.

And after he presented his invention to the emperor, papermaking in China took off in a big way. The invention powered the Chinese bureaucratic machine, made communication easier, and facilitated the spread of written literature. In short, it revolutionized human civilization. But this is a show about the home. Today we're interested in the impact that paper had on the domestic space. And you can bet it wasn't long before people were hanging this new material on their walls. So let's take a closer look at how paper walls made by wasps in ancient China led to the wallpapers we use to decorate our homes today. I'm Ruth Goodman. I've spent my life exploring the extraordinary history of everyday items,

the little things that we often take for granted. Every object in your home has a fascinating hidden history, a story that's just waiting to be told. This week we're uncovering the surprising history of wallpaper. So come along with me and together we'll explore the curious history of your home. It's easy to see why paper became so popular in ancient China. It was more convenient than the materials they had to write on before, such as wood and bamboo, and much cheaper than silk, which was also occasionally used. What's amazing is how successful the Chinese were in keeping this remarkable invention to themselves. In fact, it took over a thousand years for paper to reach the West. Now, you might be wondering, how did Europeans class up their walls before wallpaper

arrived on the scene? It's a good question. If you were a wealthy medieval noble, you probably lived in a castle or a large manor house. Very impressive, but very drafty. And those bare stone walls weren't much to look at. To make the place more homely, you would hang tapestries on the walls. But from the 16th century onwards, paper started to replace cloth as the material for covering walls. The designs for these early wallpapers were copied from tapestries and mimicked fabrics such as damask. And to begin with, these printed sheets, known as domino prints, were only about A4 size. I've actually been lucky enough to see some early examples of wallpaper myself. The earliest we know of dates from 1509 and was found in Christ's College,

Cambridge, made by Hugo Goers of York. It's an absolutely stunning monochrome design featuring pomegranates and Islamic motifs. They wouldn't look out of place in a Liberty catalogue today. So why did we make the switch from tapestries to paper? One reason is cost. Although it's worth remembering that even though wallpaper was cheaper than textiles, it was still essentially a premium product in the early modern period, out of reach of most household budgets. Besides price, there were other, less obvious factors that led to the emergence of wallpaper. Now, I love the sound of a blazing wood fire, don't you? It was a sound you would hear right across England, up until around the middle of the 16th century.

right across England up until around the middle of the 16th century. At about that time, and starting in London, people started to switch to coal. This transition had an unexpected impact on home decor. Coal fires produced thick, sticky smuts that ruined the gorgeous tapestries that hung on the walls. With wood fires, you might get a layer of dust that could be easily dislodged. But this stuff was something else. It got into the fibres and made everything dark and dingy. Wallpaper, on the other hand, was a lot easier to clean and considerably cheaper to replace. Win-win?

These early wallpapers were produced using a method known as block printing. This was an ancient technique, believed to have originated like paper itself in China, though it was also used in ancient Egypt and India. Initially used to decorate textiles, it soon became a way to print on paper too. So how does block printing work? First, intricate patterns are carved by hand on the surface of wooden blocks. Then you take your chosen block and tap it on a bed of felt soaked in ink or paint. Carefully lay the primed block on paper and apply pressure.

When you lift the block away, the design is revealed. It's fiddly, but the results can be fabulous. And there's often a quirky, handmade quality to it, little imperfections that you don't get with mass production. I love it. Given the slow, laborious nature of block printing, a number of technological innovations were introduced in the 17th century to keep pace with rising demand for wallpapers.

17th century to keep pace with rising demand for wallpapers. For example, the small sheets of paper were glued together to create extended strips. These could be laid out on a long table to speed up printing, with the original pattern repeated along the length of the paper. By the mid-1600s, the paper. By the mid-1600s, War Paper's star was in the ascendant. And then history intervened. This intervention came in the shape of the English Civil War, the execution of Charles I and the protectorate of Oliver Cromwell, which lasted from 1653 to 1659. Cromwell and his fellow Puritans took a dim view of anything they deemed frivolous, including wallpaper. So production was shut down. The block printing workshops fell silent. But with the restoration of Charles II, But with the restoration of Charles II, wallpaper took off again in a big way. And it all started with a fire.

Hi again, listeners. If you're enjoying this episode of Noise's new podcast, make sure to search the curious history of your home in your podcast app and hit follow to never miss an episode. Or click the link in the episode description. Now back to the story. In September 1666, the Great Fire of London raged across the city for five days, leaving a trail of devastation and despair in its wake. More than 13,000 buildings were laid waste, with over 70,000 people left homeless.

Astonishingly, it is said that only six people died in the fire, although we will never know how many more succumbed to injuries in the following days and weeks. But what does all this have to do with wallpaper? I hear you ask. this have to do with wallpaper? I hear you ask. Well, in the aftermath of the fire, the ravaged city had to be rebuilt. New building and planning regulations were introduced, including wider streets. From now on, houses were to be made of stone or brick, with timber banned from the exterior of buildings. Although the fire was undoubtedly a disaster for many, it was also an opportunity for some. An army of architects, masons, builders and construction workers descended on London and changed the face of the city. A different kind of architecture arose out of the ashes, one that

was supposedly rational, scientific, orderly. It represented a new aesthetic for the modern age. And wallpaper played a part in the regeneration of the city, because behind every imposing new facade that sprang up, there was an interior waiting to be decorated. By now, the puritanical ban on wallpapers, or paper hangings as they were called at the time, was no longer in force. Wallpaper was legal again, and shopping for it became a whole new experience for the upper classes. Let's take a walk along Aldersgate Street, London, in the late 17th century. Look to your right and you'll see the large shop windows of James Wheelie's paper-hanging warehouse.

An eye-catching display of the latest products is artfully arranged to draw in the most discerning and wealthiest customers. These days, the word warehouse conjures up images of drab, nondescript buildings on industrial estates. But in 17th century London, a warehouse was more what we might call a store, somewhere for the public to go and buy the wares of the proprietor. A centre of elegance and fashion. Let's step inside Mr. Wheelie's warehouse. The interior is exactly as depicted on one of his trading cards. The store is airy and spacious. The walls are decorated, as you might expect, with attractive wallpaper.

A fashionable couple, bored young daughter in tow, are being served by a gentleman in a frock coat and periwig, presumably Wheelie himself. A couple of assistants roll out samples of wallpaper over a long table, showing off the latest colours and designs. Particularly eye-catching are the so-called chinoiserie paper hangings. These feature Chinese motifs, including birds and flowers, and depictions of everyday life in the countryside.

including birds and flowers and depictions of everyday life in the countryside. You've heard that the very best are hand-painted and are imported all the way from China itself. Delivery can take up to 18 months. But imagine the stress of actually putting it on the walls. One small slip or rip and the whole effect would be ruined. One of Mr. Wheelie's minions approaches and offers you a seat and refreshments while you peruse the samples. Take your time, make yourself comfortable.

Choosing wallpaper is a serious business and supplying it is suddenly big business. A whole new industry has sprung up, with London at its centre. James Wheely was just one of several businessmen making and selling fashionable wallpaper to wealthy patrons in this period, and as printed wisteria bloomed on walls across Britain, the government couldn't help but notice that the wallpaper industry was raking it in. Naturally, they wanted a share of the profits. So in 1712, during the reign of Queen Anne, the first wallpaper tax was introduced in England. This led to a hike in prices as manufacturers passed costs on to consumers. Even so, demand remained high, at least among the wealthy. Of course, there were some who tried to get around the tax. One legal way was to buy untaxed plain paper and decorate it by hand with stencils.

But generally, the results were disappointing, with crude patterns and smudgy execution. Some manufacturers flouted the law by forging the official stamp that certified that the tax had been paid. But this was a risky policy. If you were caught, you could find yourself facing the death penalty. It seems a high price to pay for a feature wall. While the wallpaper tax was bad news for the British wallpaper industry, it was a great opportunity for French producers. They continued to improve their production methods, expand their ranges and introduce ever more sumptuous designs, while their English competitors saw their market share dwindle.

Then, as it so often does, intervened again this time in paris it's 10 a.m on tuesday the 28th of april 1789 in the saint antoine district of paris thousands of working-class people both men and women, are gathering in the streets. Their eyes gleam with a desperate rage. Many of them carry clubs and other makeshift weapons. The threat of violence is palpable. The crowd's anger is directed at one man in particular, a wallpaper manufacturer named Jean-Baptiste Réveillon. A few days earlier,

Réveillon has made a speech to his local electoral committee complaining about rising production costs. He spoke fondly of the days when a labourer could live quite well on their 15 sous a day. His words did not go down well with those struggling to make ends meet, especially as the price of a loaf of bread had recently been fixed at 14 and a half sous, eating up almost all of those meagre daily earnings. Réveillon's remarks were widely interpreted as those of a typical capitalist calling for lower wages at a time when most working-class people could barely afford to eat. The fact that his factory produced luxury wallpapers for the wealthy didn't help his cause. The angry crowd gathering outside his house is the culmination of a series of protests, sparked by his comments. At first, the crowd had marched on Réveillon's factory, but a contingent of troops saw them off.

Earlier this morning, Réveillon's effigy had been hung outside the Bastille. As word reached him about the angry mob heading towards his mansion, As word reached him about the angry mob heading towards his mansion, he leads his family out and over the garden wall to take refuge with a neighbour. Now there's a standoff between the protesters and the police positioned to guard his property. The crowd begins to pelt the officers with stones and other projectiles. Suddenly, there's a surge forward. The protesters overpower the hugely outnumbered police.

They scale the garden walls to Réveillon's property and converge on his house. Réveillon's precious possessions are looted or destroyed, mirrors smashed, books scattered, statues thrown through windows. A selection of wallpaper samples is set on fire. Eventually, the French Guard arrives to disperse the crowd. The soldiers open fire. In the words of the Marquis de Ferriere, who recorded the event in his diary, blood was flowing in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

According to official reports, 25 people died. The de Ferriere placed the number of dead at 700 or 800. The Réveillon riots, as they became known, were among the earliest acts of violence in the French Revolution. So why was a wallpaper manufacturer the focus of so much hatred? Well, when most working people were struggling to put food on the table, the luxurious papers made by Réveillon were a potent reminder of what they saw as upper-class greed. These upmarket items came to symbolise the huge inequalities in French society that sparked the revolution.

Obviously, the French Revolution was about more than wallpaper, but it's no coincidence that Réveillon and his luxury products became a focal point for people's anger. Throughout history, ordinary people's lives, from the food that they can put on the table to the way they decorate their homes, have played a pivotal role in societal shifts. So maybe it's no surprise that when the poor were struggling just to survive, revolution was sparked by a symbol of luxury living. Over the 19th century, the story of wallpaper is not one of revolution, but industrialisation.

Ironically, given the Réveillon riots, the cost of wallpaper actually came down, and consumption shot up. This was largely due to technological advances, such as the introduction of the first industrial-scale wallpaper printing machine, patented in 1839. And it wasn't just wallpaper production that was changing. Wallpaper design was undergoing a revolution too, led by a radical designer named William Morris. led by a radical designer named William Morris. You probably know what a William Morris print looks like because his designs are still popular today. Morris produced his first wallpaper in 1862

and went on to become one of the most influential wallpaper designers in the country. Though it's interesting to note that when he started out, his designs weren't at all popular. In fact, many critics thought them peculiar. Morris's aesthetic theories laid the intellectual foundations of the arts and crafts movement, an attempt to reform design and decorative tastes in Victorian Britain. He famously said,

Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful. For Morris, the domestic was definitely political. In an era before glossy magazines and TV home makeover shows, In an era before glossy magazines and TV home makeover shows, he inspired a generation of middle-class householders to transform their interiors with art and beauty. were embracing the creative opportunities offered by the rising popularity of wallpaper, a killer was discovered, hiding in plain sight on nursery walls across the country. It's the 3rd of April, 1862, in the east end of London. A horse-drawn carriage pulls up outside a row of modest dwellings built for working-class tenants. A man gets out of the carriage and knocks on one of the doors, the home of the Turner family.

This is Dr Thomas Orton, a leading London physician. Dr Orton is admitted by the head of the household, Mr Richard Turner, a bricklayer. Turner's eyes appear bloodshot, his face pale and drawn. The poor man looks like he hasn't slept for days, if not weeks. Turner leads the doctor upstairs to one of the bedrooms, where his wife is seated beside a cot on which a small girl lies sleeping feverishly. The child's breath is laboured. Mrs Turner tenderly applies a damp cloth to her daughter's forehead to bring down her fever. The girl is three-year-old Ann Amelia, and her parents don't know what's wrong with her. Mr and Mrs Turner fill the doctor in

on the details of their daughter's sickness. She has been struck down by the same mysterious illness that has already claimed the lives of the Turners' three other children. The local doctor diagnosed diphtheria, but the usual treatments failed to work. The Turners plead with Dr. Orton to save their darling baby. He examines the patient. It's true that the symptoms are consistent with diphtheria. Raging sore throat, fever, fatigue. But Orton isn't convinced that's what Anamelia is suffering from. For one thing, diphtheria is a highly contagious disease. In a densely populated neighbourhood like Limehouse, Orton would expect it to spread like wildfire along the terrace.

But there isn't a single case among the neighbours. the terrace. But there isn't a single case among the neighbours. Orton wonders if there might be some environmental factor causing the illness. He looks around. The house is well ventilated and spotlessly clean. When he tests the water supply, he finds no evidence of contamination. Then, Orton notices the bright green wallpaper on the bedroom wall. He remembers reading that certain green pigments used in wallpaper manufacture are made using a deadly substance. Arsenic.

Could it be the wallpaper that's killing the Turner children? Dr. Orton does what he can for little Anamelia, but a month later, she's dead. Orton arranges a post-mortem. The likely cause of death is confirmed as arsenic poisoning. The theory is put forward that it was caused by the wallpaper in the Turner house. Newspapers pick up the story and a new health scare breaks out. However, some people find the idea of death by wallpaper difficult to believe one of the biggest arsenic skeptics of the age was william morris decades after anne amelia's

death he still refused to believe that arsenic-based pigments were harmful in an 1885 letter to a friend he wrote, as to the arsenic scare, a greater foliate is hardly possible to imagine. Of course, Morris wasn't exactly unbiased. Many of his designs relied on arsenic-based dyes to achieve their eye-catching effects. Getting rid of arsenic would severely restrict his palate. No more emerald green, Paris green or Shields green. As an artist, he naturally rebelled. Plus, his family owned shares in Britain's largest arsenic mine. But in 1875, Morris bowed to public opinion. His producers, Jeffreys & Co, switched to arsenic-free green pigments in line with other manufacturers. Though, as we've heard, in private, he continued to grumble that it was all fuss about nothing.

By the 1930s, Britain's wallpaper production had increased to around 100 million rolls per year. But by the end of the millennium, wallpaper had fallen out of favour. Now, at last, in the 21st century, the wallpaper industry is enjoying a resurgence. These high-end wallpapers are used to create spectacular and dramatic featured walls in the kinds of homes you see on Selling Sunset. There are even custom-made wallpapers, taking us full circle back to the chinoiserie trend. At the same time, there has never been a better choice of affordable wallpapers for the mass market. The history of wallpaper, at least in Europe, takes in the most monumental events of the last few hundred years,

including printing, globalisation, the French Revolution and industrial advances. So if you have wallpaper in your home, or if you're browsing sample books right now, it's good to know you're part of this long tradition, one that goes way back to a wasp in ancient China. To be continued...