Chris Hamlin (University of Notre Dame)
When I say ‘Water’ I mean Water: Water in the Ninenteenth Century from Medium of Culture to Culture Medium
Just what significations could ‘water’ have in the nineteenth century? A great deal of water historiography has been premised on the presumption that water is something simple, if not the compound H20, then one of the four elements. Knowing what we do now, we typically assume that even those innocent of any natural philosophy would have recognized that they were dealing with a simple and basic wet stuff, if one which sometimes possessed odd and transitory properties. In this paper I review changes in the explicit definition of water, as given in encyclopedias and text books in medicine, chemistry, etc., but I also explore changes in the implications of ‘water’, whether as a substance or as extended metaphor. What work could one plausibly do with the word? What uses had to be explained or apologized for, what could be taken for granted? Broadly, the changes I review are from a qualitative to a set of quantitative registers. Through these changes the repertoire which ‘water’ could perform became significantly constricted. What had been exotic and enigmatic, an essence resisting reduction, became ordinary (and rather boring). While these changes, to the degree to which they have been appreciated, are best known in the context of rising concern about water-borne diseases, I shall treat them as products of commodification and secularization, and argue that epidemiology was a secondary factor.
Deborah Brunton (Open University)
“You Are Not a Fisher Yourself”: Water Supply and the Battles Between Private and Public Interests in Scotland
The enterprise and pride of Glasgow’s civic fathers in bringing supplies of water from Loch Katrine to the city looms large in Scottish public health. So much so, that it has been assumed by some historians that all water supplies in Scottish cities were in the hands of public authorities. In fact, Glasgow is the exception rather than the rule. In the early nineteenth century most water provision (including that of Glasgow) was in the hands of private companies. In Edinburgh, these companies maintained their control over the city’s supplies until 1868, when responsibility for water was passed to a Water Trust. The shift from private to public supplies was not always smooth. In Edinburgh, it provoked a huge public outcry, and swung the results of at least one local election. This controversy points to the complex relations between public and private interests. This was not a case where the interests of the public were met by the advent of public supply.
Despite frequent complaints about the quantity of water supplied by Edinburgh’s private Water Company, the arrival of the new public Water Trust was greeted with fierce opposition. Ratepayers believed that the Trust was a corrupt body, a puppet of the Town Council. Its scheme to bring water from St Mary’s Loch provoked huge opposition, with citizens objected to the cost and the unhealthy quality of the water which was too soft and was contaminated with water fleas. In an effort to protect their interests, ratepayers voted members of the Trust off the council and halted all new schemes to add to Edinburgh’s water supply. This paper will explore these debates, focusing on the rhetorics of public interest, civic good and health.
Sally Sheard (University of Liverpool)
Washing the Great Unwashed: Changing Attitudes to Personal Hygiene in Nineteenth-Century Britain
One of the outcomes of the epidemics of ‘dirty diseases’ in nineteenth-century Britain was a sustained focus on the cleanliness of the clothes and bodies of the working classes. From the 1840s public baths and wash-houses were provided, some paid for by charitable institutions, while others were part of municipal sanitary reform programmes. The evaluation of the success of these projects evolved in recognition of the changing understanding of the importance of personal hygiene: from the basic avoidance of infections such as cholera, to an emphasis on swimming as a health-inducing exercise.
This paper will consider how the expansion of public baths and wash-houses facilitates the discussion of two key issues. First, the transient nature of nineteenth-century ‘political economy of health’: how much was a local authority prepared to invest in these systems? Was there a political or economic break-point at which they were transformed from ‘public health services’ into ‘commercial enterprises’? Second, the operation of personal ‘choice’ in sanitary reform: what provoked individuals to move to more frequent washing habits? What role did institutionalisation play, for example through the requirement to be ‘vermin-free’ to attend school, or the requirement for new council tenants to undergo training in how to use communal washing facilities?
Bernardino Fantini (University of Geneva)
“Bad Air” or “Bad Water”? : The Discovery of the Malaria Transmission Cycle and its Impact on Public Health Strategies
Since classical antiquity a strong connection had been established between the epidemics of intermittent fevers and the presence of “noxious swamps”. Many treatises from Antiquity to the early eighteenth century suggested different ways of coping with this danger: building houses and towns in appropriate sites, preventing contacts with the effluvia of the swamps, transforming the land with hydraulic bonification. For centuries there were many efforts to cope with this disease, mainly through drainage and economic improvements of poor regions. In any case, water control was a precondition for any healthy urban and agricultural setting.
In the second half of the eighteenth century the term malaria (meaning in Italian ‘bad air’) spread rapidly to indicate the disease, suggesting that the source of the threat was not in the water but in the air (only the French continued to use ‘paludisme’, implying a link with swamps). In the nineteenth century, many epidemiological surveys showed no precise overlapping between the geographical distribution of malaria and the presence of swamps. Therefore, a different theory was developed, this time accusing the soil (‘telluric theory’). In such a way, three elements of classical philosophy (earth, water, air) were suggested alternatively to explain the fourth, the fire of the fevers.
With the discovery by Laveran in 1880 of Plasmodium, and by Ross and Grassi in 1898-99 of the specific role of the Anopheles mosquitoes as vector, malaria etiology and epidemiology moved from a physical explanation to a biological one. The cause of malaria is a biological cycle of reproduction and transmission of a parasite. Malaria became a ‘mere biological phenomenon’ (Celli) and it became clear why it had, like ‘any other great or small manifestation of life’, yearly, monthly and even daily alternations of attenuation or recrudesces. Malaria continues to exist only if the transmission cycle is uninterrupted. If any link whatsoever in this unending chain were removed, there would be no more parasitic alternation and the disease would disappear. Because the transmission cycle is actually a life cycle, it can be broken down, eradicating the disease. Before this theoretical change, eradication of malaria was not only virtually impossible, it was not even conceivable.
At the beginning of the twentieth Century the attitude towards malaria changed dramatically from fatalism and resignation to an active policy that made the eradication of the disease a possible objective. The pattern of human interaction with the disease changed, passing from a stable relationship between human population and the disease, accepted as a part of the geographical and anthropological setting, to a more dynamic one, in which the social and individual initiatives acquired a decisive role. The control of water became just a component, not necessarily the most important one, of a much larger preventive strategy. More often, and especially after the introduction during World War II of DDT, the objective of malaria control became the ‘anophelism without malaria’, that is the absence of the disease without the need of altering natural equilibria.
This paper will discuss the various theories on the role of water in malaria epidemiology in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and the debate on the necessity of the hydraulic and integral bonification as a tool for antimalarial strategies.
David Arnold (University of Warwick)
Troubled Waters: Purity, Health and Disease in Nineteenth-Century India
Spas and hydrotherapy played little part in either Indian or British health practices in nineteenth-century India, but ritual bathing in sacred streams and tanks and the consumption of ‘purifying’ Ganges water were prominent features of Indian (especially Hindu) society. The health-giving properties of Indian waters were, however, called into question in mid-century by the spread of epidemic cholera from major bathing festivals and pilgrimage sites as well as in association with recurrent episodes of drought and famine. Measures to combat cholera (and other water-borne diseases) accordingly followed a different path from Britain. Attempts to create pure water supplies, even for major cities, encountered repeated technical and political difficulties and (to judge by rumours of their deliberate contamination) were initially viewed with some suspicion. Water’s polyvalence – between health and disease, the pure and the polluted – was further enhanced by the increasing contamination of watercourses (including the Ganges) by sewage and industrial effluent, by the spread of malaria alongside irrigation canals and by the clogging of streams and tanks by water hyacinths. These issues were far from resolved by the end of the century.
Eric T. Jennings (University of Toronto)
Empire of Spas: Hydrotherapy and French Colonialism
In this paper, I will investigate nineteenth-century French water therapies aimed at both preventing and curing tropical diseases, including malaria and yellow fever. I will explore at once the rationales behind these cures, and the elaborate grids, schemes and furlough system implemented in order for French colonial agents to take the waters. Because of time constraints, I will focus my discussion on metropolitan French spas that catered to a colonial clientele. Given how central spas were in the life cycle of French ‘colonials’, this paper should shed light on the broader relationship between hydrotherapy and empire.
Douglas Peter Mackaman (The University of Southern Mississippi)
Clinical, Social and Sexual: Managing Space and Practice in the Nineteenth-Century French Spa
My discussion will address the tension points in nineteenth-century French spa development between the domains of medicine and desire, between the architectures of resort excess and clinical control, and between tourists who cured to organize their leisure and the deathly sick who sought whenever possible to give their rigorous courses of medical curing a veneer of the vacation. As it explores therapy space, codes of therapy technique, public parks and spa hotels as the nexus points of the spa environment between clinical, social and sexual practice, the discussion will explore how the spa milieu incorporated its ambivalence – where the tensions between the clinical, social and sexual were concerned – into a larger cultural field where wellness and desire were sold concurrently by medical marketers.
Jane Adams and Hilary Marland (University of Warwick)
Fluid Boundaries and Diluted Principles: Water and Healing Approaches in Nineteenth-Century England
The use of water for therapeutic purposes expanded exponentially in nineteenth-century Britain, perhaps most visibly in the development of specialist hydropathic and bathing institutions and the labelling of a growing number of towns as spas and health resorts. However, changing domestic practices also reflected new approaches to water both for hygienic and therapeutic use. Water’s potential for healing also held the capacity for harm, leading to complex routines and a multitude of specialist advice being offered as to its proper use. Later in the century water also came to be seen as a possible threat to health, particularly in the context of the rise in epidemic disease. Drawing on research into specialist watering-places in the English Midlands, this paper will explore these multiple and sometimes paradoxical aspects of water within specific local contexts and will seek to draw out their relationship to broader trends in English medicine. The paper will also examine how the domestic environment and domestic use of water was incorporated into hydropathic approaches, despite problems for many of access to clean water supplies.
The established form of English water medicine, which centered on mineral waters and spas, came under severe challenge from hydropathy in the 1840s. Following an explosion in the diversity of approaches to water therapeutics over the next three decades, notably by hydropaths such as James Gully and John and Caroline Smedley, the last quarter of the century saw increasing homogeneity between facilities and treatments provided at spas and hydropathic institutions. Water became widely accepted as a useful agent within a number of therapeutic approaches. By the end of the century, the value of balneology, the use of mineral waters, and hydrotherapy, which harnessed the physical properties of water, were accepted as part of orthodox therapeutics, as evidenced by the establishment of Society of Balneology and Climatology in 1894. Technological innovations including improved heating and plumbing systems and an ability to imitate natural mineral waters with artificially reconstituted replicas also influenced the trend towards commonality.
By the end of the century several hospitals in large urban centres including London and Birmingham included departments with facilities for medical hydrology and other physical treatments. Although in the English context, these hospitals catered for the poor rather than the fee paying middle class and thus were not in direct competition for the middle-class spa goer, the application of water therapeutics in both the East End of London and at Buxton or Leamington demonstrates a marked change in the nature of water-based therapies by the end of the century. As at health resorts, water was rarely used in isolation in these department, with bathing frequently combined with other therapeutic approaches including electrotherapy and massage. Advice on diet and exercise continued to be important. In addition to being a mark of recognition of water’s therapeutic value, it will be argued that the placing of water within these broader approaches also undermined the interest in and value of particular waters and of water medicine as a distinctive area of practice.
The example of a typhoid outbreak at the leading hydropathic institution in Malvern in 1898 will be used to reflect on the potential for danger in healing waters and on water’s role as an enduring component in the concept of the health resort. The legal dispute between a local doctor and the urban district council over responsibility for the pollution and its control reached the House of Lords prompting the comment that the resulting adverse publicity had done far more damage to the resort’s reputation than the outbreak itself. Increased emphasis was given to Malvern’s attributes as a climatic resort, specifically the hills, natural environment and air. However, despite an almost complete decline in facilities for modern hydrotherapeutic treatment in the town, the designation ‘Queen of English Watering-Places’ continued to be used. It will be suggested that this was an allusion both to Malvern’s emergence as the first centre of English hydropathy from the 1840s and to an older enduring tradition of free public access to the many pure natural springs in the area.
Marguerite Dupree (University of Glasgow)
Varieties of Practice and the Curative Power of Water: Unqualified Hydropathists in Nineteenth-Century Scotland
Hydropathy, or the therapeutic use of cold, and later, warm water, is usually seen as one of several competing systems that challenged orthodox therapeutic regimes in the turmoil of early nineteenth-century medical theory and practice in Britain, Europe and North America. There had been a long history of using water to cure disease: in the eighteenth century, for example, taking the waters had become a fashionable pastime for the wealthy classes who travelled to spas around Britain and Europe to cure the ills of over-consumption by promenading, bathing and the repetitive drinking of mineral waters. But, although related, spas and hydropathic establishments, should not be confused as healing sites in the nineteenth century. Hydropathy, as it initially appeared in the 1820s, was an entire medical system, exclusive of all other forms of treatment, based on the internal and external application of water. It discarded the idea that it was the minerals in the water that were therapeutically potent, suggesting instead that the action of the water on the skin and internally worked via the nervous system to drive morbid matter back out through the skin and effect a cure.
Another feature which distinguishes hydropathy from many other water-based therapies is its origin with one man. Vincent Priessnitz, often referred to as a Sileasian ‘peasant’, developed the cure empirically, experimenting with different methods, first upon the local livestock and then his willing neighbours, until he perfected his system. From 1826 he established Gräfenberg, in the Silesian Alps, as the first, and most famous, water cure centre. In a period when medical practice was dominated by therapies involving the use of emetic and astringent drugs, often combined with bleeding and leeching, hydropathy’s appeal, based on water and the benefits of healthy air and a plain diet, led people from all over Europe and North America to descend on Gräfenberg to experience the effectiveness of the treatment.
Priessnitz’s ideas came into Britain through a variety of channels, most notably the publication in 1842 of a book about his visit to Gräfenberg by Captain Claridge, a satisfied patient, who then toured Britain lecturing on the benefits of hydropathy. At the same time a number of qualified physicians who had spent time at Gräfenberg were busy explaining the benefits of hydropathy. The more astute saw the economic potential of creating cure-centres—hydropathic establishments—along the lines of Gräfenberg. For the medical entrepreneur, Priessnitz had discovered an attractive formula. The hydropathic model, with the cure centre grafted onto a hotel, where therapy could be carried out away from the domestic domain, offered new opportunities, for those that ascribed to Priessnitz’ system. A number of hydropathics were opened during the 1840s, many of them in England; the most famous were run by James Manby Gully and James Wilson at Malvern, treating both resident patients and out-patients. Initially, many of these were small institutions, catering for at the most dozens of patients. By the later nineteenth century, however, the typical hydropathic establishment had evolved into a more substantial undertaking, with thousands of patients treated annually for weeks at a time in a large purpose-built building with lavish facilities, under the supervision of a qualified medical practitioner and staff. At the peak of the movement in the late nineteenth century there were over fifty hydropathic establishments in Britain, of which the best-known were Smedley's at Matlock in Derbyshire and Ben Rhydding near Leeds. The initial response in Scotland was slower than in England, only two were established during the 1840s. But, by the late nineteenth century, Scotland was over-represented with more than twenty hydros having been built (or about 40% of the total number in Britain, compared with only about 12% of the British population).
Practitioners both with and without formal medical qualifications were prominent in the introduction and development of hydropathy and hydropathic establishments in England and Scotland, reflecting the variety in the supply of medical care in the mid-nineteenth century medical marketplace and the blurred boundaries between ‘orthodox’ and ‘fringe’ medial ideas and practice. Originating as a single system of cure from an unqualified practitioner, hydropathy was an effective platform for criticizing and challenging the perceived excesses of orthodox practice and was adopted by some as an explicit rejection of the medical profession’s world-view. With its emphasis on the use of pure and clean water, it naturally allied itself with a variety of reformist, spiritual and radical concerns ranging from the temperance movement to conflicts over polluted drinking-water supplies. With some hydropathic practitioners both medically unqualified and religiously non-conformist, hydropathy gives the impression of a wholly heterodox practice. Social and spiritual radicalism marked hydropathy’s development throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, particularly in North America, and medical historians have tended to follow critical contemporaries in considering hydropathy as ‘alternative’ medicine. However, as Priessnitz did not publish his cure, there was wide scope for ‘translation’ and adaptation of his ideas. Recently historians have pointed out that British hydropathy owed its introduction and survival to the efforts of medically qualified practitioners, whose understanding of pathology and physiology was located in the mainstream, while their point of divergence with orthodox practitioners, however defined, was therapeutic. Moreover, hydropathy and hydropathic establishments, like specialist hospitals, asylums and spa practice provided an alternative niche to general practice in the overcrowded British medical market and a path to ‘fame and fortune’ for medical men outside the metropolitan elite.
The diffusion of Priessnitz’s water cure, like medical ideas and practice generally, was not transmitted between different societies in a simple manner. The aim of this paper is to explore the complex process of the reshaping of hydropathy within national contexts, by focusing on Scotland. As indicated above, one distinctive feature of the history of hydropathy and hydropathic establishments in Scotland was the pattern of hydropathic building, with relatively few before the 1870s compared with England and the United States, a boom in the late 1870s and early 1880s, followed by collapse and consolidation and eventually decline, all of which were associated with a gradual, uneven pattern of change in the establishments from an emphasis on cure to an emphasis on recreation. What also makes hydropathy distinctive in Scotland is its relationship to the country’s distinctive history of religion and temperance. Hydropathy took the shape of the vessel into which it was poured. This emerges clearly in the careers of the four most prominent hydropathic practitioners in Scotland without formal medical qualification. As practitioners the four were directly associated with seven, and indirectly with eight of the twenty-one major hydropathic establishments opened in Scotland in the nineteenth century, and examination of their careers highlights the relationships between hydropathy, religion and temperance and their distinctive manifestations in Scotland.
Sabina Roth (Independent scholar, Zurich)
To Handle with Caution: Cold Water in Schroth’s Nature Cure
The Nature Cure of Johannes Schroth (1798-1856) was based mainly on humid packs for acute diseases and, for chronic cases, on a fasting diet with dry rolls and white wine combined with humid packs during the night. In the history of alternative medicine this cure is considered primarily as a dietetic treatment. However, as it applied wet sheets, Schroth’s treatment can also be considered as a type of hydrotherapy, as in fact an extremely cautious way of handling cold water.
One of the adherents of Schroth’s method was the schoolteacher and naturopath Heinrich Trachsler (1823-1892). From 1860 onwards his naturopathic practice developed mainly in Winterthur, an industrializing town in the Swiss canton of Zurich. This small medical trade was conducted by the teacher and his wife Rosine Stünzi (1834-1917). There were cold water institutions in Switzerland of greater renown than the one of Trachlser. Most of them were based on Prieβnitz’ system although enriched with further therapeutic specialties.
How did Schroth’s cure utilize cold water differently to Prieβnitz-type methods? Why was Trachsler’s use of Schroth’s water attractive for his clients of the rural middle class and of urban artisans? Answers were searched for in the different scripts of advisory books on Schroth’s Cure – two written by Trachsler – and of testimonies or complaints given by the clients during Trachsler’s legal affairs as an irregular therapist. The analytical approach focuses on the interfaces of the descriptive elements with notions and practices of everyday-world, popular and folk medicine. As a result, the swaddling method is discussed in correspondence with the widely spread reluctance to the wet cold qualities of water as it used only a small dosage of this possibly harmful element and transformed it into humid warmth. Schroth’s water-use embedded visions and the necessity of gendered self-help, self-reliance, but also of bourgeois individualism as it adapted to existing domestic and medical routines. The water underwent a naturalistic metamorphosis: It was the body’s innate power and warmth which produced the healing damp within the pack. Only in this arrangement symbolising the uterus, water represented the natural place of recreation in Schroth’s Cure.
Mariama Kaba (Haute école de travail social et santé, Lausanne, and Institut universitaire d’histoire de la médecine et de la santé, Université de Lausanne) and Vincent Barras (Institut universitaire d’histoire de la médecine et de la santé, Université de Lausanne)
Swiss Hydrotherapy at the End of the Nineteenth Century: A Therapeutic Compromise Between France and Germany
Like its neighbouring countries, Switzerland possesses a huge number of spas that mostly arose during the nineteenth century. In Geneva, for instance, the interest of doctors in hydrotherapy can be explained by the geographical and political context. Being an important scientific and cultural centre during the Napoleonian period and after, Geneva is surrounded by different baths and spas like Saint-Gervais, Divonne, Evian, and Thonon, which were recommended to a variety of clienteles by prominent Genevan doctors of European reputation, like Butini, Odier, Lombard, and Herpin. Some of them, as well as renowned chemists, began to analyse the quality of various types of water, and simultaneously to attempt to promote a new industry of mineral waters as well as medical tourism activities based on the supposed therapeutic properties of the surrounding rivers and lakes. At the end of the century, a hydrotherapeutic and tourist centre became a major attraction in Geneva, the so-called ‘Bains de Champel-sur-Arve’. According to Dr Paul Glatz (1845-1905), the founder of this centre, the curative effect of the water was due to mechanical properties, rather than chemical peculiarities. The hydrotherapic system thus shows an interesting mixing of French theories (tonicity and exciting properties of water, based on showers), and German systems (half-baths, frictions, etc.). Glatz thus combined scientific and commercial arguments, adding electrotherapy, walking cures, and massages to the therapeutic possibilities of his establishment.
In this paper, we will examine in detail how water, as a substance dotted with specific properties, but also as a flow with symbolic and concrete effects, is a major argument for therapeutic, architectural, environmental purposes during the 19th century.
Borbála Csoma (Catholic University of Péter Pázmány in Hungary and Charles University in Prague, Czechoslovakia)
Success, Mistakes, Homeopathy and Hydropathy in the Letters and Diaries of the Aristocracy of the Nineteenth Century
The custom of visiting spas revived in the nineteenth century. Thousands of people started to have their maladies treated at faraway or even foreign resorts. The small Moravian-Silesian bath of Gräfenberg, the health-resort of Vinzenz Priessnitz, was opened in 1831, in the era when the homeopathy also became well known and popular in Hungary. A great number of Hungarian patients could be found among the visitors of the Gräfenberg bath, and they learned sooner about the fame of Priessnitz from the physicians and the journals.
In my presentation, I would like to speak about the connection of homeopathy and hydropathy utilizing the letters and diaries of the nineteenth-century aristocracy. Their physicians were in the most case followers of homeopathy. Looking at their letters and diaries, we can gain insight into the knowledge of aristocrats about homeopathy, about the treatments offered at Priessnitz’s spa. What did aristocratic visitors think about the success of the Priessnitz- treatment? Did they believe that they were getting better? How they give advice like real physicians to their friends? How they agree or disagree in their letters and diaries with the treatment? How did they mix the treatment of hydropathy and homeopathy against the advice of Priessnitz?
Jill Steward (Northumbria University)
Health, Leisure and Lifestyle: Sanitas in Acqua?
This paper will examine changes in the relationship between the role of mineral waters in spa therapies and the development of health and leisure tourism in the Habsburg Monarchy in the nineteenth century. The use of water for its salubrious and therapeutic purposes was a longstanding tradition in the area. In the second half of the nineteenth century the growth in the spa trade was closely connected to the expansion of leisure tourism and the development of urban lifestyles conducive to the kind of ailments for which a spa cure was recommended. Mineral waters and alternative lifestyles provided commercial opportunities for those connected with spa and health establishments.
David Cantor (US National Library of Medicine)
War, Water and the Public Health Movie in the 1940s: A Presentation of Movies from the Collections of the U.S. National Library of Medicine
Public health films provided mixed messages about water during World War II. On the one hand, they portrayed water as essential to war efforts: Pure drinking water was vital to military and industrial efficiency, and hydrotherapy could rehabilitate the injured. On the other hand, they also portrayed water as a threat: Impure water was the cause of diarrhea and other stomach complaints, and water was a breeding ground of mosquitoes and other creatures that produced disease. Malaria, dengue fever, yellow fever, and schistosomiasis were all associated with organisms that rely on water during part of their lifecycle.
This presentation provides a selection of rarely-screened public health movies released by the Americans during the Second World War. These cartoons, and information and training films explore the dangers that water could pose to the war effort, and the personal and public health measures that should be adopted against the threat. They also seek to educate physicians, nurses, the military, and the general public about the ways in which water could aid America in its struggle against the Axis Powers.
Movies had been seen as a modern method of public and professional education since the early twentieth century, but the numbers of educational movies expanded dramatically during the 1940s, and they acquired larger budgets, mass audiences, government support, and in some cases Hollywood involvement. Organisers of public health campaigns – including those about water – came to see movies as central to their success, mixing moral messages with medical ones. This presentation is thus as much about the wartime use of the movie, as it is about the wartime concern about water.
Drinking Water, 1945 (5.35 minutes); Hugh Harman Productions
Purification of Water, 1943 (19.00 minutes); War Department
Local Health Problems in War Industry Areas, 1942 (12 minutes); Unknown Production Company
Nursing – Hydropathy, 1945 (22 minutes); Division of Visual Aids, U.S. Office of Education, with the cooperation of US Public Health Service
Personal Cleanliness, 1945 (4.47 minutes); Hugh Harman Productions