The Disturbing History Of Dentistry

No one likes it when their dentist pulls out the drill, or that little hook for scraping right down to your soul. But at least you're not a Neanderthal because your dentist would be reaching for sharp rocks.

David Frayer, a paleoanthropologist at the University of Kansas, wrote a paper on Neanderthal dentistry with help from his own dentist, Joe Gatti (via the Washington Post). They were looking at four teeth that came from a cave in Croatia and belonged to a Neanderthal who lived 130,000 years ago. Gatti was surprised the condition of the teeth looked weirdly similar to teeth he's seen in the 21st century, including showing scrapes and scratches as if from toothpicks. (And, when he says "toothpick," he means a sharp piece of bone or a stick. Probably.)

Now, let's fast-forward a bit to archaeologists working in Italy and their discovery of the first cavity ever — that we know of, at least. It was done around 14,000 years ago, and archaeologists (via IFLScience) replicated a few different ways the infection might have been dug out of the tooth. The most likely was scraping and chipping away at the tooth with a small, sharp piece of flint. The same researchers (via LiveScience) also studied a cavity that had been filled around 13,000 years ago, with bitumen. Yes, that's tar. Mmm.

Today, the biggest challenges you face in the toothpaste aisle are remembering who needs the sensitive stuff and trying to remember if you like spearmint or peppermint better. (And should you gamble on the orange flavor? Hmmm.) Commercial toothpastes are a relatively recent invention, and Colgate was the first on the market in 1873. According to the Telegraph, there were plenty of other options out there before, and they were just as gross as you'd expect.

One of the oldest recipes comes from fourth-century Egypt. The recipe was preserved on a piece of papyrus and called for a mix of rock salt, mint, pepper, and dried iris flower. One Austrian dentist actually tried it, and said even though it made his gums bleed, it wasn't as bad as some of the other toothpaste formulas he'd seen.

So, what were in those? Colgate has put together a history of toothpaste and says ancient ingredients — which were usually mixed up into a paste and sometimes applied with a "toothbrush" like the one shown above — included things like pumice, burnt eggshells, ashes from the hooves of oxen, crushed oyster shells, and crushed bones. It stayed that way until things started changing in the 1800s, with the use of soap, charcoal, chalk, and betel nuts. Orange sounds great now, doesn't it?

The British Dental Association says a number of people have counted dentistry among the services they offer, including the clergy, apothecaries, jewelers, wig-makers, and even blacksmiths. Which one would you go to?

There was another option during the Middle Ages: the tooth drawer. Henry IV even had one on staff. The BDA says from the 14th century onward, tooth drawers for the common folk tended to travel the country and set up at markets and fairs. Then they'd attract attention in a weird way: They would dress as jesters and wear necklaces of the teeth they'd pulled. Dr. Alun Withey of the University of Exeter says they sometimes offered quack remedies to relieve tooth pain, and many would lance your boils for you at the same time. Now that's a one-stop shop.

If you're thinking there can't be that much money in tooth drawing, you're probably right. The Excruciating History of Dentistry says tooth drawers might have made their wages other ways, according to art dating from the 16th to 18th centuries. Some tooth drawers may have worked with accomplices who would pick the pockets of the people who were in pain ... or of the crowds of people who stood around to watch the tooth-pulling. So really not much has changed, except the bill comes from your insurance company today because it's more polite.

Ask anyone who's had some teeth pulled and they can tell you anesthetic is a wonderful thing. According to the Wood Library-Museum of Anesthesiology, anesthesia as we know it only really kicked off in the early to mid-20th century. Before that, things like cocaine and chloroform were used, and in the case of the vaudeville dentists, dancing girls were also used.

Edgar Parker — who later changed his name to Painless Parker — actually graduated from the Temple University dental school in 1892, says Atlas Obscura, but that's the most normal thing about the story. Temple still has a bucket filled with thousands of teeth Parker extracted over his 59 years as a practicing dentist, and most of those teeth he pulled while he was on the road.

Parker traveled the country with a vaudeville-style show, complete with buglers, acrobats, magicians, jugglers, and dancing nurses. He even had an elephant he rode in on, and once he took the stage, it was all about the tooth-pulling. His record was 357 in a single day, all drawn from people who were first given a cup with a drink that was mostly whiskey or laced with cocaine, and who were, in theory, distracted by the dancing showgirl-nurses. Did it work? The American Dental Association called him a "menace to the dignity of the profession," but it's possible they were just jealous of his elephant.

Hate the dentist, but have a toothache? There's at least one dentist-free option that could give you a little extra help, and it's in Nepal.

Atlas Obscura says it's called Vaisha Dev, or the Toothache Tree. It's more accurately a tree stump that forms the entirety of an open temple in Kathmandu, and while it's right in the middle of a dental district, it's a completely pain-free option for asking for a little divine help with a toothache.

To appeal to Vaishya Dev, the Newar god of the toothache, hopeful patients nail a coin onto the stump that's already pretty well covered in coins. Legend says there's an idol in the middle of the shrine that should help you, but if the god doesn't, the dentists who have set up shop in the area probably can. Even if you don't rely just on divine help, OMG Nepal says there's a tradition that passers-by don't miss an opportunity to say a quick prayer for their dental health. Brilliant marketing? Absolutely. Does it work? Couldn't hurt!

Anyone who's watched a crime drama has seen the basic ideas of forensic dentistry at some point. That's the discovery that so-and-so faked their death and left someone else's body to burn, and they know it because dental records don't match. It's not as new as you might think, and there's a case to be made that America's first forensic dentist was Paul Revere.

You probably remember from history class he was a silversmith and an engraver, but he was also trained as a dentist and advertised his services in the 1770s. Strange Remains says one of his patients was Dr. Joseph Warren, a physician who had Revere fit him with two ivory teeth.

While Revere's work in the Revolution is pretty well documented, Warren's was no less important. He directed a group of spies he'd planted among the British, and it was Warren who sent Revere out on his famous ride. (That ride didn't happen the way you were told.) Warren later headed up the Massachusetts militia and was ultimately killed at the Battle of Bunker Hill. He was dumped into a mass grave, and it wasn't until nine months later the Americans were able to dig up the grave and start giving their fallen a proper burial. Needless to say, identification was difficult, but Revere identified Warren's body by the set of false teeth he'd made for him. Silversmith. Patriot. CSI guest star.