By Elizabeth McQuillan
Going to the dentist is never going to be an event to get enthusiastic about. On arrival, there is the hard sell dental plan to once more politely decline. Then there is having your jaw being forcibly dislocated to accommodate a fist. Thereafter, it’s sharp implements, power tools and choking on saliva.
The next time your dentist shines his interrogation lamp into the gaping chasm of your mouth, and smugly tuts (in the knowledge that you haven’t religiously flossed), consider this: a visit to the dentist might have been an even less pleasant experience before the appliance of science.
Folk have always tried to keep their teeth clean. In 5000 BC, the Egyptians made a tooth powder with myrrh (antiseptic/healing), eggshells (abrasive), pumice (abrasive) and ox hooves (pass). This would have been rubbed on to the teeth with the fingers, and should have done a pretty good job of removing debris and stains.
According to osteo-archeologist Trevor Anderson, in a paper published in the British Dental Journal, information gleaned from medieval medical literature shows that dental techniques were surprisingly advanced in the UK.
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The medieval documents refer to both cosmetic and conservative dentistry. At that time, there were liquids to whiten the teeth, methods of removing calculus and compounds for filling cavities. There is also a reference to dentures made from human teeth or cow bone. Cures for "tooth worm" were often herbal, and bloodletting was often advised. Evidence also points to filling carious cavities. Surgical intervention for oral cancer and facial fractures was also known. A suggestion for painless extraction: "Take some newts, by some called lizards, and those nasty beetles which are found in fens during summer time, calcine them in an iron pot and make a powder therof. Wet the forefinger of the right hand, insert it in the powder, and apply it to the tooth frequently, refraining from spitting it off, when the tooth will fall away without pain." Somewhat more palatable, a vino-inspired recipe for mouth soreness: "Take a cupful of wine or claret, and a sprig of rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis), boiling them together; put in a piece as big as a nut of frankincense, a spoonful of honey, and two of water, mixing them well together. Wash the mouth frequently, and it will be cured" In reality, the medical text and the techniques mentioned therein would have only have been available to the elite surgeons within university towns. They would have dealt with a select wealthy clientele where recompense was forthcoming. With the discovery of new lands came sugar – and, since the rich would luxuriate in the ingestion of the refined product, it did mean that they likely suffered from tooth decay to a greater extent than their poor contemporaries. However, the peasants had a harder time of it when they did get toothache. They had to turn to the local blacksmith, barber or wigmaker to deal with the offending tooth. Removal – the only practical method of dealing with decay, infection and pain for the poor – has involved some teeth-clenching techniques throughout history. Primitive societies used a thin wedge of wood and a mallet to loosen the offending tooth. The dental pelican is one of the earliest instruments to remove teeth, and dates back to the 1300s. The barber or travelling tooth man would use the device so that the tooth was removed sideways. After the claw was placed over the top of the tooth, the fulcrum – the semi-circular piece of metal at the end – was placed against the gum. The pressure from the lever was intended to remove the tooth out the side exit, but it likely took out the surrounding gum, jawbone and perhaps surrounding teeth in the process. This torturous tool was eventually replaced by the dental key (or Clef de Garengeot) in the 1700s. Rather like a door key, the instrument was inserted horizontally into the mouth, and a claw tightened around the tooth. This was rotated and the tooth loosened and removed by a ratchet motion. This remained in use until the 20th century, when forceps were given their place in dental history due to Sir John Tomes, the Victorian dental pioneer. Studying to be a surgeon, Tomes was more interested in teeth, and examined them in great detail. His experience of extractions, along with his study of the shape and size of each tooth and their roots, spurred him to design new styles of forceps adapted for different teeth. Tomes was instrumental in campaigning for a diploma in dentistry that was affiliated to the Royal College of Surgeons. This finally ensured that there was a regulating body within dentistry, and that malpractice and incompetence was at least discouraged. So, while you may not wish to take up the offer of a dental plan from your dentist, you can at least be assured that he isn’t a blacksmith, barber or wigmaker when he drills and fills. It might, though, be worth checking the framed certificate on his wall, as there was a recent case in the West Midlands…Donate to us: support independent, intelligent, in-depth Scottish journalism from just 3p a day
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