When I was a kid, I remember touring Independence Hall in Philadelphia on a number of class trips. I distinctly remember the guides telling us that the windows were kept shut during the Second Continental Congress because of the fear of spies overhearing the proceedings. Therefore, it always struck me that the line in the musical 1776 should have been “Too many spies” instead of “Too many flies”. or maybe I am mis-remembering the tours, and the guides actually were talking about flies?
In 1776, the streets of Philadelphia would have been ankle-deep in the shit of horses and beasts of burden. There would have been a LOT more flies than today. I think the line is good to go.
I saw the original Broadway run, and the line was “too many flies.”
The line is part of a debate to open the window during the convention.
“Someone oughta open up a window!
No, no, no! Too many flies! Too many flies!
But it’s hot as hell in Philadelphia!”
The point is that some of the congress want to open the window to get some air, while others don’t want the room to fill with flies.
It’s also a metaphor for how the congress can’t come to a decision, even over something as trivial as opening the window.
That’s the whole reason for the bit in the first place. “Too many spies” would have been a perfectly valid reason to keep the windows closed, and the Hot as Hell side would have been petty for choosing their own comfort over security.
But heat vs. flies is the kind of perfectly evenly matched trivial dispute that can keep a body tied up in procedural bullshit forever.
1776 would definitely be too many flies. By at least 1775.
And no sewers: there were outhouses and cess pools on every street.
I was reading a description of the manure problem in horse based cities recently that said most cities would sweep the manure into vacant lots where it could literally reach more than two stories high; people were sometimes buried alive in collapses of piles of shit. Area farmers were begged to come and take as much as they could. Poor people, kids, and immigrants stood on corners with shovels so that they could sweep the shit out of the way of those crossing the street in exchange for pocket change.
It’s just amazing anybody lived past 30.
As for spies, open windows wouldn’t have that big of a boost to them since you couldn’t see anything through an open window you probably couldn’t see through glass and if the windows were unlocked when the building was empty then the doors probably were too.
In the published edition of the play author Peter Stone commented that this was one of those things taken from actual events*. There was a stable nearby that served Congress (among others) and the fly problem was, indeed, severe.
*Stone haunted several libraries to get background info on the events, including the Rutgers University library, which isn’t far from the Indian Queen Tavern that Adams and Franklin stayed in during the inspection tour of New Brunswick referred to in the play (the tavern has since been moved further away to East Jersey Olde Town).
Stone did find things there, but sometimes gave the lines to other people who didn’t actually say them. I get the feeling that David McCullouch in particular was annoyed by this. He never actually says so, but he doesn’t even mention Stone and Edwards’ play in his bio of John Adams. And in both John Adams and his own book 1776 he is careful to use the same quotations, and to properly attribute them.
Indeed, when the horseless carriage was invented, the big selling point for them was that they were non-polluting.
OK, this link and Wikipedia both mention that the windows were kept shut to prevent eavesdropping during the Constitutional Convention (1787), not the Second Continental Congress (1776). That’s probably what the tour guides were talking about way back when.
So in the words of Emily Litella: “Never mind.”
But the one thing they do agree on? “Sit down, John!”
Trivia: he was obnoxious and disliked.
And he hung out with Alexander Hamiltonon Broadway.
I enjoy Hancock’s use of the fly swatter. At one point he says he hopes Washington will have happier news to write “…in the not to distant (*whap! *with the fly swatter) future.”
My husband and I are big fans of this musical, and whenever we mention something happening soon, we say “…in the not to distant whap future.”
Street-sweeping men were employed by big cities well into the 20th century, and not for innocuous items like cigar butts and banana peels; there were out there cleaning up the horseshit from milk wagons and other delivery vehicles. Charlie Chaplin was briefly employed thus in City Lights (1931).
Trivia: they were both part of The Drifters.
Just occurred to me–in Anthem, by Ayn Rand, the hero wants to be a scholar, but is assigned to be a street sweeper. It never occurred to me before, but in that ultra-controlled, dystopian future, he was sweeping up dung, not litter.
Okay, historical question: When were window screens invented? Did they have them in the late 1700’s? Were they in common use? Surely the technology of the day was well-developed enough to manufacture screens.
Wire was difficult and expensive to make in the days before automatic machinery. It was half a century in their future before the technology became available and much longer before it would have become a common item.
Window mesh existed before the Civil War, but it was very expensive. Looming thin wire was very problematic for some reason.