Dentures’ deep roots

Despite daily brushing, George Washington lost all but one of his teeth by the time he became president. He went through at least six sets of dentures over his lifetime, although they weren’t, as legend has it, made of wood. Until the 20th century, false teeth were often made from gold, pearl or agate; hippo, walrus or elephant tusks; ox or cattle bones; or teeth pulled from cows, horses, donkeys -- or human corpses.

In the sixth century BC, the skilled craftsmen of pre-Roman Italy devised some dapper dentures, carving false teeth from ivory or bone, enameling them so that they would last, and then fastening them in place with loops of gold wire.

Their technology wasn’t to be exceeded -- or even matched -- for more than 2,000 years. In the Middle Ages, most people did nothing to hide gaps in their smiles, though some nobles (Queen Elizabeth I of England among them) stuffed the holes with white cloth.

In the 1700s, Europe’s new taste for sugar led to an epidemic of tooth decay. And when teeth gave people trouble, surgeons simply pulled them out. Demand for replacement teeth surged, and enterprising dentists (the profession was relatively new) revived the ancient practice of carving them from bone and ivory.

Ivory and bone teeth looked all right -- at first. But because they lacked enamel, within months they would blacken and rot, leaving the wearer with putrid breath (and, one would imagine, few friends).

Some Frenchmen experimented with porcelain instead, fashioning teeth from the fine clay found at Sèvres and Limoges. But these, too, proved far from perfect: They were brittle, difficult to size, noisy when opened and shut and, of all things, too white.

The best replacement for missing teeth, dentists soon concluded, was teeth. Animal teeth were often used (Washington’s dentures included a few horse and donkey teeth). But human teeth were preferable.

In 18th century Europe and America, grave-robbers made a brisk business digging up corpses and prying out their remaining teeth, no matter how old or decrepit. Executed criminals’ teeth often found their way to the market too, as did those of the desperately poor: Some, in fact, willingly had their molars and incisors extracted in exchange for a few pence.

Symbols of status

Good, strong human teeth, devoid of decay, were much easier to come by after the Battle of Waterloo.

When Napoleon Bonaparte’s troops faced off against British and Prussian forces at Waterloo, Belgium, in 1815, nearly 50,000 young and healthy soldiers died. Their teeth, however, lived on. Scavenged and imported by the barrelful to England, they found new homes in the mouths of thousands of Brits.

These “Waterloo teeth” were so popular they became status symbols, and the market for slain soldiers’ teeth stayed hot right through the U.S. Civil War.

But even when they were made of human teeth, dentures were far from comfortable. The bases, still made of bone or ivory, were often ill-fitting. (Washington’s made his cheeks puff out.) In a complete set of false teeth, springs at the back of the mouth connected the upper teeth to the lower, but they also made the dentures likely to fly out of the mouth.

Finally, a snug fit

In 1844, the invention of vulcanized -- or hardened -- rubber revolutionized dentures. The bases could now be molded to fit snugly in the mouth, and porcelain teeth, which by now had been perfected, could be fit into the rubber.

While most wearers saw this as an improvement, the U.S. Army still saw room for improvement (rubber teeth broke easily when dropped) and designed all-aluminum dentures for soldiers in World War I. The heat-conducting metal teeth never quite caught on.

In the 1940s, acrylic resin -- the material dentures are made of today -- firmly took the place of rubber, aluminum, porcelain and bone.

Acrylic may now be the material du jour, but to some, Washington’s dentures are still more desirable. In 1981, the upper half of one of the president’s sets of false teeth was stolen from the Smithsonian Institution. They haven’t been seen since.