Franz Morawetz and the Birth of European Steam Bathing

In 1838, Vienna witnessed the groundbreaking emergence of Europe's first traditional Russian steam bath, thanks to the entrepreneurial spirit of Franz Morawetz. Located at Marxergasse 17, the "Zsófia" bath, named after Princess Sophia, revolutionized bathing culture by introducing steam generated from boiling water instead of heated stones.

Scheiber József and the Hungarian Connection

Inspired by Morawetz's innovation, József Scheiber (Scheibl), a cloth merchant, sought to bring this novel bathing experience to Budapest. Amidst the city's existing bathhouses, which were either medieval Turkish or modern cold-water establishments, Scheiber established the first Russian-style bath in the Hungarian capital.

The City Park Bath: A Hub of Popularity and Expansion

On April 11, 1841, the doors to Scheiber's "City Park Bath" opened to the public, and its popularity was swift and resounding. The bath's unique steam generation method and its location in the bustling City Park attracted a large clientele. To cater to the growing demand, Scheiber opened a second bathhouse in the same year, situated in the Nákó Palace overlooking the Danube. A few months later, this bathhouse was relocated to its permanent home on Kazinczy Street, a newly constructed building designed by József Hild.

Architectural Grandeur and Gender-Segregated Services

In 1847, the Kazinczy Street bathhouse underwent a significant expansion under the guidance of architect Loránt Zofahl. The once-classical structure was transformed into a grand edifice adorned with Moorish architectural elements and a cour d'honneur courtyard. While men could choose between first-class and second-class services, women were limited to "wooden class" offerings. To uphold moral standards, male guests were attended to by male servants, while female guests were assisted by female maids. Even pets could receive therapeutic treatments, with special sessions held every other Friday morning.

Water Sources and Modernization Efforts

Initially, the bathhouses sourced their water from the Danube. However, in 1908, the discovery of a 4.60-meter-thick karst water layer 11.3 meters below the Kazinczy Street bathhouse led to a shift in water supply. Despite modernization efforts in 1921, which included the addition of hairdressers and pedicurists alongside masseurs and corn removers, the bathhouse continued to attract a clientele of hungover individuals and those from lower social strata.

World War II: A Turning Point and Tragic Transformation

A dark chapter unfolded in the bathhouse's history during World War II. On May 19, 1944, an order by Minister of the Interior Andor Jaross restricted the bathhouse's use to individuals of Jewish origin and faith, barring Christians from entry. Six months later, as the boundaries of the ghetto were tightened, the bathhouse became the sole mortuary for the Jewish quarter.

With the siege of Budapest lasting for over three months, all of the city's cemeteries reached capacity. Consequently, 2281 bodies were forced to be buried in a mass grave adjacent to the Dohány Street Synagogue, disregarding Jewish religious burial practices.

Post-War Era: Nationalization, Decline, and Demolition

Following nationalization, the bathhouse continued to operate as a public bath until 1968. However, its deteriorating condition led to its demolition in 1969, along with three adjacent buildings. The site was replaced with a temporary container structure that served as the home of the Hungarian State Ballet Institute's choreographers and ballet students for the next 34 years. In 2024, this temporary structure was dismantled to make way for the construction of a hotel.

The story of the first Hungarian steam bath stands as a testament to innovation, adaptability, and the resilience of the human spirit amidst tumultuous times. From its humble beginnings as a revolutionary bathing experience to its tragic transformation into a mortuary during the Holocaust, the bathhouse's legacy serves as a reminder of the ever-changing tides of history and the enduring power of human connection.