4/30/12

Grandma's Rum Bath to Cure Baldness and Preserve Marriage
By Kathy Warnes


In the rough days on the frontier, rum was like death and taxes – everywhere. Grandma with six greats in front of it used to rub rum on the gums of her teething children and she swore that it eased their pain and sent them snoring into slumber. Grandma with six greats in front of it decided to use the rum cure to keep Grandpa with six greats in front of it from going bald.

"Tabitha, I'm starting to look like Deacon Jones," he said to Grandma one night after he tried to comb his hair. It had taken only two swipes of the comb and even they had finished early.

"Alexander, you are no longer a young man. It is fitting that you should lose your hairs."

"Tabitha, if I am losing my hairs, it is not fitting that I parade my loss in front of the entire town. I must wear a cap on my head. Will you make me a cap to hide my baldness?"

"Alexander, how will you hold a cap in place without any hair?

"Perhaps by strings tied around my ears or by wearing a hat 24 hours a day. There is a way to accomplish this, Tabitha."

"The best way to face the loss is to thrust your head into the world unadorned and unashamed," Grandma with six greats in front of her name told him.

Grandpa with six greats in front of his name pressed his lips together. He didn't say any more about his hair, but Grandma knew he was upset. She decided to help him. That night, she fixed an especially good meal‑venison stew, wild berries and apple pie. Then she poured a mug of the precious rum that was such a favored drink of the people with six greats in front of their names.

Grandpa yawned while he basked in front of the fire digesting his venison stew. By the time Grandma joined him there after settling the children in their beds in the loft, he was snoring peacefully. His head nestled on his chest like a hen brooding her nest.

"Now for the next step of my plan," Grandma whispered. Stealthily as an Indian creeping up on a colonist, Grandma crept over to the jug of rum that she kept in a dark corner of the cabin behind the broom. She poured about half a mug of rum and carried it carefully over to Grandpa.

"Alexander, are you sleeping?" she whispered.

Grandpa stirred and mumbled, but he didn't wake up.

Grandma prepared to carry out the next step of her plan. Carefully, she dipped her hand into the mug of rum and scooped some up in her cupped palm. Carefully, she drizzled the rum on grandpa's head. Carefully, she rubbed in the rum like she was rubbing homemade soft soap into lather.

"Mpph!" Grandpa said.

"It's all right, Alexander. Go back to sleep," Grandma said. "There, there." She stroked his forehead and he smiled, snored twice and went back to sleep.

Grandma watched Grandpa’s scalp like a cat a mouse hole. When great clumps of hair didn't sprout like daisies on the bald top of his head, she sighed.

"It will take another application," she said. She crossed over to the rum jug again.

A second application produced the same results and a strong, rummy smell permeated the room. Grandpa must have recognized the smell because a dreamy smile appeared on his face. He muttered, "Yes, I am at the Royal Eagle Tavern on the Pike Road. Yes, pretty maid. I will have another glass of your best ale. What a well turned‑out maid you are!"

When Grandma heard this speech, she spilled the rum she had cupped in her hand smack on top of Grandpa's head instead of rubbing it in. The rum trickled down into his eyes and all over the front of his face. This rum bath also woke him up.

"Why do I have rum trickling down my forehead?" he spluttered.

“And what else did you say to that bar maid?" Grandma with the six greats behind her name demanded.

“I said I love my Tabitha more than my hair!”

"Dame Ambridge said rum is a cure for baldness. I was going to cure you until you started talking to that barmaid. Now, go cure yourself!"

Grandpa was never able to entirely convince Grandma that there had been nothing between him and the barmaid but a glass of rum. Grandma was never able to entirely convince Grandpa that his rum bath hadn't cured his baldness. But they loved each other enough to keep arguing and keep trying!


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I am a writer historian who enjoys writing fiction and non-fiction.