What Is “MicroHistory”?
A term first used in 1959 for an intensive history of Pickett’s charge in the battle of Gettysburg, “microhistory” is now defined by Dictionary.com as “a study or account of the history of a very specific subject; also, a study of a very small cultural change.” Books classified as “microhistory” have explored the origins and effects of everything from cod to the pencil, bananas to zero. In my new book MicroHistory and in snippets on this site, I similarly sample the stories behind the ideas and inventions that made the modern world. Rather than focus an entire book on one topic, however, MicroHistory ranges widely from the secret history of bacon to the invention of neon, from guns to gas stations, traffic lights to deodorant. If you’ve ever wondered how things we take for granted came to be, this is the place for you.—David A. Fryxell
That Can-Do Spirit
Although canned food was first produced commercially in 1810, almost another half a century passed before hungry folks had an easy way to open those cans. Peter Durand, the British merchant who first patented the idea of preserving food in cans, showed surprisingly little interest in how consumers could extract the contents. Early opening instructions read simply, “Cut round the top near the outer edge with a chisel and hammer.”
Quacking Up Over Duct Tape
Duct tape was originally Army green and commonly called “duck” tape because it repelled water. After World War II, the tape’s rubberized top coat was changed to gray to match the duct work in the postwar housing boom.
Bringing Home the Bacon
“Bringing home the bacon” originally referred not to money but marital harmony. In the 12th century, the church of Dunmow, England, offered a side of bacon to any husband who could swear before God and the congregation that he had not quarreled with his wife for a year and a day. Even today, the Dunmow Flitch Trials every four years awards a side of bacon (a “flitch”) to couples who can convince an unmarried jury.
Brother, Can You Spare a Cowry?
Americans like to think of the dollar as king, but in the historical context of currency, that honor probably belongs to the humble cowry. A type of mollusk shell widely available in the shallow waters of the Pacific and Indian oceans, the cowry was used as money as early as 1200 BCE in China, where the first pictograph meaning “money” depicted a shell. The most widely and longest used currency in history, cowries continued to be exchanged in Africa into the mid-20th century.
Our ancestors also used everything from amber to zappozats (decorated axes) as money, including eggs, feathers, ivory, jade, kettles, cattle, pigs, quartz, rice, thimbles and even vodka. The “shekel” was originally a specific weight of barley, much as the British pound represented a pound of silver. Roman soldiers were paid in salt, giving us the word “salary.”
The First "Filling Station"
Car buffs might consider a pilgrimage to the corner of Baum Boulevard and St. Clair Street in Pittsburgh, where a historic marker commemorates the “First Drive-In Filling Station.” That breakthrough in automotive convenience made history a little over a century ago, in 1913. Baum Boulevard was then already known as “automobile row” because of the many car dealerships lining the street. So drivers could pull right in to the “Good Gulf Gasoline” station with their new vehicles and “fill ’er up.” The station offered free air and water, and sold the US’ first commercial road maps.
Losing His Glow
Georges Claude, a Frenchman who in 1910 exhibited the first neon sign at the Grand Palais in Paris, had a career of ups and downs. At one time, his Claude Neon company was so ubiquitous that many people thought “neon” was the inventor’s last name, rather than the gas used to make gaudy creations glow. But Claude blew most of his neon-light fortune on a scheme to generate electricity by bringing cold water from the ocean depths into contact with warm surface water. And although Claude had been decorated for his World War I efforts, in World War II his royalist sentiments—and lingering resentment over what he viewed as snubs by the French government—led Claude to propagandize for voluntary cooperation with the Nazi invaders. He was arrested in August 1944, tried for treason, and sentenced to life in prison.