Two centuries ago, an idea that seems perfectly ordinary today could cause considerable unrest in Bucharest. In the spring of 1825, a Frenchman named Lagarde asked the authorities of Wallachia for permission to open a bathing establishment in the capital, following a Western model. The proposal was unusual for Bucharest at the time, when the tradition of public baths was mainly associated with the Oriental model, while access to hot water and modern hygiene conditions was far from being an everyday reality. Lagarde's initiative reached the desk of Prince Grigore Dimitrie Ghica and triggered a debate that went beyond the simple issue of hygiene. Behind it was also a very concrete matter: competition between a new type of business and the bathing establishments already operating in the city. The tenants and bath attendants who earned their living from the old establishments feared that a modern facility, equipped with hot and cold water, would attract their clientele. The story is recorded in historical and administrative documents, but it became widely known to the general public especially through an article published by Ioan Massoff in Realitatea Ilustrată in 1937, which drew on information attributed to historian V. A. Urechia.

Bucharest in 1825 and the world of public baths

At the beginning of the 19th century, Bucharest was a city undergoing a period of transition. Urban habits were gradually changing, while Western influences were beginning to blend with the Oriental traditions that still dominated everyday life. The issue of public baths must also be understood in this context.

However, historical accounts do not allow for a simple statement such as “before 1825 there were no public baths.” More recent historical research shows that public baths already existed, including a bathhouse associated with the Old Court and other establishments, while the sources cited by Realitatea Ilustrată were referring to the absence of a modern bathhouse in the Western sense of the term.

The distinction is important. Traditional baths operated largely according to the Turkish model, based on hot air and steam. What Lagarde was proposing, on the other hand, represented a different concept: individual rooms, hot and cold water available on demand, and standards of comfort closer to those found in Western cities.

Such an establishment meant more than simply a place where people could wash themselves. It was a modern business, but also a potential institution with a medical and hygienic role. It was precisely this combination that allowed Lagarde to present his project to the authorities as an initiative that could benefit society.

Lagarde's idea reaches the prince

In March 1825, the Frenchman Lagarde addressed the Divan and requested permission to build a bathing establishment in Bucharest. His application sought a long-term privilege, so that the investment would be protected from immediate competition. Documents indicate that Lagarde initially requested a 20-year monopoly.

For the administration of the time, however, the project was not quite so simple. Prince Grigore Dimitrie Ghica asked doctors for their opinion in order to determine whether such baths were genuinely necessary and beneficial to people's health. At a time when public hygiene and medicine were undergoing a process of modernization, this was a serious question.

At the beginning of April, the authorities considered the request justified. Documents relating to April 8, 1825, show that the Divan recommended approving the project, although not for the 20 years requested by Lagarde, but for a period of ten years.

The project was impressive for Bucharest at the time. The establishment was supposed to contain ten bathing rooms, each properly equipped, with a place for resting, a table, a mirror and water installations. The most remarkable feature was the water supply: customers were to be able to receive hot or cold water according to their preference.

For the people of Bucharest in 1825, the idea of entering a room and choosing between hot and cold water by means of a mechanism represented a genuine demonstration of modernity.

Why did the bath attendants' “revolt” break out?

The approval of the project directly threatened an already existing economic system. Among those who felt endangered was Kir Stanciu, the tenant of a bathhouse located near the Beilic House, in the area of present-day Șerban Vodă Street. He was not the only person who stood to lose. Around the old bathhouses there was an entire professional category made up of bath attendants, people specialized in bathing services and personal care.

According to the historical account later reproduced by Realitatea Ilustrată, Stanciu came to protest against the project accompanied by the people who worked at his establishment and by women who provided bathing services for female customers. The scene described by the chronicler became one of the most colorful stories about everyday life in Bucharest two centuries ago.

The crowd gathered around the protesters attracted the attention of passers-by, and the atmosphere was interpreted by some as the sign of an actual riot. Hence the spectacular expression later used by the interwar press: the “revolution” caused by the installation of the first modern bathhouse in Bucharest.

In reality, this was not a political uprising, but an economic and professional conflict. A new competitor threatened an established trade and a well-rooted business model. The story shows how strong resistance to change could be, even when that change was associated with the idea of progress.

“A bath like those in Vienna” and the fear of competition

Kir Stanciu's arguments, as transmitted by the historical sources, were primarily economic. If Lagarde were allowed to receive customers without restrictions, the old bathhouses risked losing an important share of their income.

Moreover, the Frenchman's establishment was presented as a bath “like those in Vienna,” an expression that perfectly summarized the difference between the two models. On the one hand stood the traditional bathhouse, associated with steam and the Oriental method; on the other, the new project offered individual rooms, hot and cold water, and a level of comfort closer to Western standards.

Interestingly, the dispute did not end with the elimination of Lagarde's project, but with its restriction. In order to calm the dissatisfaction of the owners and tenants of the other bathhouses, the prince decided that the Frenchman's establishment should be intended for sick people. Research published by Biblioteca Bucureștilor indicates that this restriction would have reduced the potential number of customers so significantly that Lagarde ultimately abandoned the construction of the bathhouse as originally planned.

This nuance is essential: the legend of the “first public bath” often speaks of an establishment that supposedly opened and operated successfully, but the available documents point more toward an initiative that was approved and then blocked or abandoned in its original form.

What remained after Lagarde's project

Even if the Frenchman's project should not be presented without reservations as a fully functioning and long-lasting business, his initiative was genuinely important in the history of Bucharest's modernization.

First of all, it helped legitimize the idea that baths with bathtubs, hot water and cold water could play an important role in health. After 1825, documents mention the development of bathtub facilities and medicinal baths. That same year, a bathhouse at the Filantropia Hospital was mentioned, while in 1826 a bathhouse appeared at the military quarantine station in Mărcuța.

Later, Bucharest would experience a genuine expansion of its bathing infrastructure. During the 19th century, establishments serving different categories of customers appeared, including facilities offering hydrotherapy services and, toward the end of the century, public baths intended for people with lower incomes.

Thus, the idea that seemed unusual enough in 1825 to provoke protests gradually became part of urban life in the capital.

From the public bath to the bathroom in every home

The great transformation did not happen overnight. For many decades, having a private bathroom remained a sign of comfort and social status. For a large part of Bucharest's population, washing continued to take place in conditions very different from those we consider normal today.

In 1937, when Realitatea Ilustrată recalled the Lagarde episode, the magazine noted that Romania had approximately one bathhouse for every 2,000 inhabitants, according to an international statistic cited at the time. The publication also pointed out that, until roughly 15 years earlier, houses in Bucharest equipped with their own bathrooms were still relatively rare.

The development of modern construction and the emergence of apartment buildings radically changed the situation. Apartments built during the interwar period increasingly included sanitary installations as a normal part of modern housing. The bathroom thus moved from the category of services that had to be sought elsewhere in the city into the category of facilities available inside one's own home.

From this perspective, Lagarde's story is more than an anecdote about a French entrepreneur and an innkeeper frightened by competition. It captures a moment when Bucharest was beginning to discover that hygiene could also become a matter of urban infrastructure.

Two centuries since an idea that seemed revolutionary

In 1825, hot and cold water available in a bathing room at the customer's request was modern enough to spark a public dispute. In 2026, two centuries later, it seems almost unbelievable that such an idea could have been regarded as a threat to the established order of the city.

Yet this is precisely what makes Lagarde's story so interesting. The documents tell not only the story of a bathhouse. They capture the confrontation between old and new, between a traditional profession and a Western business model, between Bucharest's everyday habits and the aspiration to create a more modern city.

And although the “first public bath in Bucharest” should be treated with caution, because Lagarde's project does not appear to have operated in the originally approved form, his historical merit remains undeniable: two hundred years ago, the Frenchman understood that hygiene, comfort and health could become part of a modern business in a city that was only beginning its transformation.

From the “screws” through which a Bucharest resident in 1825 was supposed to choose hot or cold water to the private bathrooms found in modern apartments, a long journey unfolded. And Lagarde's story shows that sometimes the great urban changes begin with an idea that, at first, seems so unusual that it sparks a genuine “revolt.”

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