Royal Flush

their efforts despite their necessity. Some jobs are thankless, even though without them things would get pretty bad, and it's been that way for a very long time. Some jobs during the sixteenth century seemed less than desirable. Certain individuals were tasked with helping kings and queens in intimate and unpleasant ways. Queens often had women of the bedchamber who would assist them in daily duties like getting dressed or drawing a bath. A lady of the bedchamber would also

act as a confidant and a personal assistant. Kings had a similar arrangement with someone entitled the groom of the stool, like a woman of the bedchamber. The Groom of the Stool would help the king wash up and put on his clothes, but he also had another duty which involved helping him onto his throne. And you're not thinking of the right throne at this moment. When a king had to use the bathroom, he relied on his Groom of

the Stool to assist him. This very important person would prep the king's toilets, which was a velvet padded box with a hole in the top. Inside the box for two pewter chamber pots, while outside a length of fabric for cleanup was also provided. This royal stool could be carried anywhere for those times when the king had to shed his clothes quickly and do his business. King Henry the seventh even created a special room known as the Privy Chamber for when he had to go. Only grooms

were allowed to go in there with him. But the Groom of the Stool wasn't just responsible for being the king's bathroom caddie. His um duties also consisted of things like watching what the king ate and when anticipating he might have to go next, oh and controlling who had

access to him at any time. On top of all, of that, the groom assisted the king with getting dressed and undressed each day, but perhaps his most important function was as a sounding board for when the King was at his most vulnerable, like when he was using his portable commode. You see, the groom of the stool served as the king's personal secretary during bathroom time, which made him very popular with lower members of the court. They would pass on their questions and concerns to him so

that he could ask the King. Given that the groom had his captive audience squatting nearby, he was a personal assistant and chief of staff all in one. However, if you think the job was a bad gig, you'd be wrong. The groom had the power to influence the King's opinion on almost any subject. With a few words, a person could have their life changed for better or for worse. So it was a good idea to always be on

the groom's good side. King Henry the Eight's groom, Sir Anthony Denny, held the King's stamp, which acted as an official signature. Denny had the power to approve any documents on behalf of the King and King Henry the Seventh entrusted his groom to carry out what was considered fiscal terrorism on the local gentry made up of wealthy farmers, knights,

and their heirs. In order for the court to bring in more money, they came up with numerous laws and taxes to siphon money away from the workers and into the king's pockets, all of which was orchestrated by the king's personal treasurer, the groom. Grooms were also keenly aware of the political dealings going on within the court. Though they almost never attended official meetings, the us really heard things later on when the king was regaling them well

seated upon his stool. In some cases, the role of groom was performed by a whole entourage who would sit with the king while he went to the bathroom. It was rare for a king to ever be alone even while he slept. Personal attendants often stayed in the same bedroom as the king in case he needed anything during the night. To be a groom of the stool was a great honor. Groom positions were coveted by many, and

for good reason. They allowed unfettered access to the king at almost all times, and all they had to do was make sure the king could do his business, both official and otherwise, safely and securely, and that doesn't sound like a crappy job at all. In eighteen fifty nine, English poet Edward fitz Gerald translated astronomer and poet Omar

Khayam's poems and published them as a collection. At first, the book didn't farewell commercially, but by eighteen seventy two the poems became so successful in the United States that there were clubs dedicated to the Persian poets. Most of Kayam's works were quatrains, a stanza of four lines with alternating rhymes. He believed that fate was an unstoppable force and nothing could change it. Many of his poems centered

around death, or at least hinted at it. So beloved were the poets versus that renowned English bookbinder Francis sang Gorski, decided to make the most expensive and elaborate book ever made. That was no small feat, since back in the late eighteen hundreds, book binding was an art form. Pages were often gilded, using a light coating of gold along the edges. While earlier books had been bound in paper over stiff boards,

Other books were bound in cloth and leather. The more prominent books were leather bound and used gold tooling on the covers and spines. San Gorski covered the pages in the finest leather died in royal green. The cover included a thousand jewels, including rubies, turquoise, and garnets. All six hundred pages were made from gold. He spared no expense. He had the front stamped with a gilded Greek bazuki,

an instrument similar to a mandolin. On the back, there were gilded images of three peacocks, and apparently that was what doomed the book. You see, many European cultures consider peacock's bad luck. In the thirteenth century, for example, invaders often wore the bird's magnificent plumes. Others believe that keeping a peacock feather in the house would bring you bad luck, and then there's the superstition that bad luck comes in threes.

The ornately appointed book became known as the Great Omar, and it took Sangorsky two years to complete it. Once finished, he put it on a ship bound for New York City, where the book might find the most influential buyer. But US customs wanted and a nor miss customs fee, so san Gorsky had the book returned to England. Unfortunately, a coal strike there brought the economy to a standstill, and

few wanted to purchase such an expensive item. Disheartened, he placed the book up for auction, where it is sold for less than half his target price. The new owner was proud of his bargain, and like san Gorsky, he tried to send it to New York City. For whatever reason, though he wasn't able to secure voyage on a cargo ship, but was delighted to send it aboard a first class luxury liner on its maiden voyage. You can see where this is going, right, That's right. The book set sail

to America on the Titanic. Whatever is left of the book is still somewhere beneath the North Atlantic Ocean. A second tragedy struck not long after the Titanic's fateful journey, though. Although san Gorsky couldn't swim, he at some point in his life jumped into a river to save a drowning woman, only to drown as well. After that, there were whispers that the book had cursed him. Sandor Sky's partner, George Sutcliffe scoffed at such a rumor and set out to

create a second version of the book. While not as elaborate as the first, it was still an expensive and ornately decorated book. Surely the new owner would be delighted to have such a beautiful piece of work. That wasn't to be, though, When World War Two erupted. Sutcliffe had the book placed into a London bank vault for safekeeping, and that's when the Germans dropped bombs all over the city. The bank, the vault, and the book were all destroyed.

Shortly afterwards, Sutcliffe suffered a stroke and passed away. He had left the firm to Stanley Bray, his nephew, who decided to make his own version of the book. His effort took decades and was finally completed in nineteen nine. Five years later he also died. The book never made it to auction, and instead was donated to the British Library, where it resides today. Bray was asked shortly before his

death if he was superstitious or believed in fate. He replied that he wasn't a believer, though admitted that the peacock might be a symbol of disaster. That was his story, and like fate, he was bound to it. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Manky in partnership with how

Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the World of Lore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.