May 18

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Essex Gazette (May 18, 1773).

“DR. Baker’s Seaman’s Balsam … proves a most powerful Restorative.”

Nathaniel Dabney and Philip Godfrid Kast had a new competitor in the pages of the Essex GazetteBoth apothecaries regularly ran advertisements in Salem’s only newspaper, Dabney for his shop “at the Head of Hippocrates” and Kast for his shop “at the Sign of the LION and MORTAR.”  On May 18, 1773, Josiah Lord commenced advertising a “general Assortment of DRUG, MEDICINES & GROCERIES” available at his “APOTHECARY-SHOP … Near the Sign of Grapes” in Ipswich.  He advised that “Those who will send their Orders shall be as well used as if present themselves.”  Lord likely hoped that prospective customers who previously did business with Dabney and Kast would instead visit his shop or take advantage of the convenience of sending orders through the post.  He operated the eighteenth-century equivalent of a mail order pharmacy.

The apothecary devoted most of his advertisement to describing several of the patent medicines among his inventory.  A few of them would have been widely familiar among colonizers, including “Dr. Anderson’s true Scots Pills … for Diseases of the Stomach, Head, Belly and for Worms,” “Dr. James’s Powder for Fevers,” and “Dr. Stoughton’s great Cordial Elixir for the Stomach.”  These medicines were so popular that apothecaries, shopkeepers, and even printers stocked them and promoted them in their newspaper notices, usually referring to them only as Anderson’s Pills, James’s Powder, and Stoughton’s Elixir.  Still, Lord gave more details in hopes of wooing customers.  For instance, he explained that a “few Doses of [James’s] Powder will remove any continual acute Fever in a few Hours, though attended with Convulsions, Light-Headedness, and the worst of Symptoms.”

Lord gave even more attention to lesser-known patent medicines, marketing them as alternatives to familiar nostrums.  “DR. Baker’s Seaman’s Balsam” did not appear in advertisements for drugs and medicines nearly as often as certain other patent medicines, so Lord educated prospective customers about its uses.  He declared that this balsam “assuredly cures and prevents Putrefaction in the Gums, Kidneys, Liver and Lungs, and other noble Parts of the Body” and it “proves a most powerful Restorative in weak and lax Habits of Body, helping enfeebled Nature.”  Similarly, he dedicated a paragraph to directions for using the “celebrated Volatile Essence” to relieve a variety of symptoms.  “By only being smelt,” Lord declared, “it revives the Spirits to a Miracle, and recovers immediately from either Fainting or Hysterick Fits.  It is likewise a most admirable Medicine in the Head-Ach, Lowness of Spirits, and Nervous Disorders; in all which Cases being taken in the Quantity of a few Drops only, it gives immediate and surprising Relief.”  As an added bonus, “In the Heart-burn, a few Drops instantly removes it.”

Such descriptions of each medicine were extensive compared to the lists that appeared in many advertisements placed by apothecaries and others who sold patent medicines.  Given that Lord “Just OPENED” his “APOTHECARY-SHOP” in Ipswich, he may have wished to demonstrate his knowledge of a variety of medicines, both familiar and obscure, to prospective customers.  Doing so may have reassured them that Lord’s expertise rivaled that of Dabney, Kast, and other competitors in the area.

May 5

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Pennsylvania Gazette (May 5, 1773).

“Chymist and Druggist … at the Sign of the Unicorn’s Head.”

Isaac Bartram, “Chymist and Druggist,” offered a variety of goods and services at his “new Medicine Store” in Philadelphia in the spring of 1773.  According to his advertisement in the May 5 edition of the Pennsylvania Gazette, he sold a “great variety of fresh Drugs and Patent Medicines, imported from the best houses in London.”  Prospective customers would have been familiar with the patent medicines that Bartram listed in his notice, just as modern consumers recognize various brands of over-the-counter medications.  Among other nostrums, the apothecary carried “Godfrey’s cordial, Bateman’s drops, … Walker’s Jesuits drops, Daffey’s elixir, [and] Anderson’s Lockyer’s and Hooper’s female pills.”  For those willing to try equivalent products, like modern consumers who purchase generics, Bartram marketed “Wine bitters, of a superior quality to what is commonly sold under the title of Stoughton’s elixir.”  He also stocked medical equipment, including syringes, vials, and surgical instruments, and prepared prescriptions “for physicians, or for family use.”

In addition to the copy, Bartram deployed an image to draw more attention to his advertisement.  He indicated that he kept shop “at the Sign of the Unicorn’s Head.”  Appropriately, a woodcut depicting a unicorn’s head enclosed within a border adorned the upper left corner of his notice, accounting for nearly one-quarter of the space occupied by his advertisement.  This certainly increased Bartram’s advertising costs since he had to commission the unique image associated with his business and then pay for the additional space.  Most advertisers did not invest in images for their notices, though a growing number adopted the practice in the early 1770s.  Elsewhere in the same issue of the Pennsylvania Gazette, Stephen Paschall and son Stephen Paschall, as they styled themselves, included an image of a scythe, a sickle, and other sort of iron work available at their workshop “at the Sign of the Scythe and Sickle.”  The initials “SP” marked one of the items.  The Paschalls first published the image a year earlier.  These images may have replicated the signs displayed by Bartram and the Paschalls, the only surviving visual representations of signs that colonizers glimpsed as they traversed the streets of Philadelphia.

Most advertisers relied solely on the text of their notices to encourage readers to visit their shops.  Such was the case for Robert Bass, an apothecary whose advertisement for a “new and fresh Assortment of DRUGS and PATENT MEDICINES” appeared on the same page as Bartram’s advertisement.  The woodcut depicting the Sign of the Unicorn’s Head certainly made Bartram’s notice much more visible to readers, prompting them to read about his wares and, in the process, quite possibly justifying the investment.

December 26

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Pennsylvania Chronicle (December 26, 1772).

Doctor GEORGE WEED … was a regular bred Physician, in New-England.”

George Weed, an apothecary, served patients in Philadelphia for decades in the middle of the eighteenth century.  In his advertisements, he styled himself as “Doctor GEORGE WEED.”  On occasion, he provided credentials to justify using that title.

For instance, in an advertisement hawking a variety of medicines in the December 26, 1772, edition of the Pennsylvania Chronicle, Weed provided an overview of his training before describing his “SYRUP of BALSAM” for coughs and colds, his “ROYAL BALSAM” for wounds, bruises, and sores, his “BITTER TINCTURE” for dizziness and upset stomach, and other medicines that he compounded at his apothecary shop.  Weed asserted that he “was a regular bred Physician, in New-England, and served his time with Ephraim Warner, a licenced Doctor.”  In other words, he received training from “one of the greatest and most successful Practitioners of Physic, in New England, in his day.”  Rather than ask the public to take his word for it, Weed concluded his advertisement with an affirmation from a minister.  Thomas Lewis declared, “That Doctor GEORGE WEED, living in Newtown Township, was under the Instructions and Directions of a judicious Practitioner of Physic, in New-England, for some Years, is certified by me.”  Careful readers may have noted that the affirmation was nearly two decades old, dated October 6, 1753.  Weed apparently believed that it served his purpose in helping to convince prospective patients to purchase his medicines.

To strengthen his pitch, Weed noted that he had “above 34 years successful practice,” including serving as “Apothecary to the Pennsylvania Hospital.”  He no longer held that position, instead operating his own shop on Market Street.  Through his long experience, he proclaimed, Weed “brought to perfection, some medicines, which have proved extraordinary in curing many diseases.”  Although the apothecary mentioned that he carried a “general assortment of Medicines,” he emphasized those that he made himself.  Other apothecaries, retailers, and even printers imported, advertised, and sold a variety of patent medicines produced in England.  Weed suggested to consumers in Philadelphia that the combination of his training and long experience serving patients in the colonies resulted in creating better products to cure common maladies.  They did not need remedies produced elsewhere when they could consult directly with a skilled apothecary who compounded medicines to order.

December 16

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Pennsylvania Journal (December 16, 1772).

“Physicians prescriptions, or family receipts put up in the most careful manner.”

Moses Bartram ran a shop that he called “the OLD MEDICINAL STORE.”  In December, 1772, he ran a newspaper advertisement advising residents of Philadelphia that he “CONTINUES to carry on the business in its various branches” and offered a variety of goods and services.  He stocked “a fresh and general assortment of DRUGS and MEDICINES, Chymical and Galenical preparations of the best quality.”  He also carried patent medicines and, like many apothecaries, both “shop furniture for Practitioners” and “painters colours for either oil or water.”  Bartram filled “orders from town and country.”  He also prepared “Physicians prescriptions” and “family receipts” or remedies “in the most careful manner.”

In marketing the goods and services available at the Old Medicinal Store, Bartram placed his advertisement in three of the five newspapers published in Philadelphia at the time.  Doing so helped him achieve greater market saturation with his notices.  His notice first appeared in the Wöchentliche Pennsylvanische Staatsbote, a German-language newspaper, on December 15.  A note that ran across the bottom of the masthead advised “All ADVERTISEMENTS to be inserted in this Paper, or printed single by HENRY MILLER, Publisher hereof, are by him translated gratis.”  The following day, Bartram’s advertisement ran in both the Pennsylvania Gazette and the Pennsylvania Journal.

Wöchentliche Pennsylvanische Staatsbote (December 15, 1772).

The apothecary chose not to place his advertisement in the two newest newspapers published in the city, the Pennsylvania Chronicle and the Pennsylvania Packet.  Both of them had a healthy number of advertisements each week, suggesting that other advertisers had confidence in the circulation numbers for those newspapers.  The Pennsylvania Packet frequently distributed a two-page supplement to accommodate all of the advertisements submitted to the printing office.  In making his choices about where to advertise, Bartram clustered the dissemination of his notices on Tuesdays (Wöchentliche Pennsylvanische Staatsbote) and Wednesdays (Pennsylvania Gazette and Pennsylvania Journal).  He could have spread out the days by placing his advertisements in the Pennsylvania Packet, published on Mondays, or the Pennsylvania Chronicle, published on Saturdays.

Given that all of these newspapers were published only once a week rather than daily, allowing readers more time to peruse the contents before discarding an earlier issue in favor of the newest one, Bartram may not have considered it necessary to spread out the days that his advertisements initially appeared in print.  Other factors, including price, his existing relationships with the various printers, and his perceptions of the circulation of each newspaper, may have been more important to Bartram in choosing where (and when) to advertise.

October 20

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Essex Gazette (October 20, 1772).

“At his Shop at the Head of Hippocrates, in SALEM.”

In the fall of 1772, Nathaniel Dabney’s name would have been familiar to regular readers of the Essex Gazette.  The apothecary frequently placed advertisements encouraging prospective customers to visit his shop “at the Head of Hippocrates, in SALEM.”  A woodcut that depicted a bust of the physician from ancient Greece, often known as the “Father of Medicine,” atop a pillar adorned many of his advertisements.  Rather than appearing in the upper left corner, as was often the case for woodcuts, the narrow image extended the length of Dabney’s advertisements.  The apothecary first incorporated the woodcut into his advertisements in the fall of 1771.

A year later, he opted to publish an advertisement that did not include his signature image, though he continued to associate the “Head of Hippocrates” with his business.  In this advertisement, he relied on a double headline.  “Fresh DRUGS” ran in a large font on the first line, followed by his name in an even larger font on the second line.  The copy suggested that his previous advertising efforts had been effective.  The apothecary “RETURNS his Thanks to those Persons in Town and Country, who have been pleased to favour him with their Custom.”  He then informed current and prospective customers that he just imported “a few Articles, which compleat his Assortment in the DRUG and GORCERY WAY.”  He sold them “very cheap” in “large or small Quantities.”

Why did Dabney decide not to use the woodcut that became so familiar to readers and served as a logo for his shop?  Perhaps he decided that he achieved sufficient visibility and name recognition that he no longer needed to include it in every advertisement.  The cost of advertising may have also influenced his decision.  The colophon for the Essex Gazette stated that “ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding eight or ten Lines are inserted for Three Shillings.”  Advertisers paid by the amount of space their notices occupied, not the number of words.  Dabney’s long and narrow woodcut and the copy that accompanied it extended far beyond “eight or ten Lines.”  The apothecary may have determined that he wished to keep his name in the public eye without assuming the expense of printing the woodcut in each advertisement.

September 30

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Pennsylvania Journal (September 30, 1772).

“WILLIAM SMITH, HAS removed his Medicinal Store from Front-street.”

In the fall of 1772, William Smith placed newspaper advertisements to inform the public that he recently moved yet “continues to carry on the Drug Business.”  He invited customers to visit his “Medicinal Store” at his new location, the Rising Sun on Second Street in Philadelphia.  He pledged that he was “determined always to pay particular attention to the quality of his medicines, and hopes by his care and fidelity to render full satisfaction to Practitioners in Physic, and others, who may please to favour him with their custom.”

In an effort to enlarge his share of the market, Smith placed the same advertisement in multiple newspapers.  On Wednesday, September 30, it ran in both the Pennsylvania Gazette and the Pennsylvania Journal.  Later in the week, it also appeared in the Pennsylvania Chronicle on Saturday, October 3.  The advertisements in the three newspapers featured identical copy, though the compositors made different decisions about format, including font sizes and capitalization.

Smith did not choose to place his advertisement in the city’s remaining English-language newspaper, the Pennsylvania Packet, on Monday, October 5, nor did he insert it in the Wochentliche Pennsylvanische Staatsbote for the benefit of German-speaking residents in and near Philadelphia.  The printer, had a standing offer in the masthead that “AllADVERTISEMENTS to be inserted in this Paper, or printed single, by HENRY MILLER, Publisher hereof, are by him translated gratis,” but Smith did not avail himself of that service.  Perhaps the apothecary felt that advertising in three newspapers was sufficient.  Perhaps he spent as much as he considered prudent on marketing so opted to forego the other two newspapers.

Whatever the reason, Smith aimed for a greater level of market saturation than advertising in just one publication allowed.  That may have been especially important to him considering that he ran his shop from a new location.  He did not want customers to experience any frustration upon visiting his former location and then decide to visit competitors who continued to do business in familiar locations.  After all, Robert Bass and Townsend Speakman, both prolific advertisers, continued operating their own apothecary shops on Market Street.  Smith did not wish to lose customers to either of them, making his advertisements in three newspapers a sound investment.

June 9

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Essex Gazette (June 9, 1772).

“He is determined to be undersold by none.”

Philip Godfrid Kast, an apothecary in Salem, regularly placed advertisements in the Essex Gazette in the early 1770s.  He also distributed an engraved trade card that included a depiction of the “Sign of the Lyon & Mortar” that marked his location.  Kast resorted to a variety of marketing appeals in his efforts to convince consumers to give him their business rather than acquire medicines from his competitors.

In an advertisement that ran on June 9, 1772, Kast declared that he “is determined to be undersold by none.”  Purveyors of all sorts of goods frequently promised low prices for their wares, some making similar claims that prospective customers would not find better bargains than they offered.  Kast explained why he was so confident that he could match and beat the prices charged by other apothecaries as well as merchants and shopkeepers who imported and sold various patent medicines.  He stated that he “has a Brother who resides in London, and purchases his Drugs at the cheapest Rate for Cash.”  His competitors may have acquired their medicines through middlemen and marked up their prices accordingly, but Kast had a direct connection that allowed him to set the best rates.  The apothecary presented this as a benefit to all of his customers, but he made a special appeal to “Gentlemen Practitioners in Physick” who were most likely to buy in volume.  That meant greater savings for them as well as greater revenues for Kast.

Yet he did not expect low prices alone would bring customers to his shop.  He also testified to the quality of his medicines and provided a guarantee, proclaiming that they were “warranted to be genuine, and the best of their Kinds.” Furthermore, his new inventory was “fresh,” having been imported from London” via a vessel that “arrived at Boston last Week.”  Kast assured prospective customers that he did not peddle remedies that had lingered on the shelves for months.  He anticipated that a combination of low prices and promises about quality would convince consumers to visit the Lion and Mortar when they needed medicines.

May 26

GUEST CURATOR:  Kelsey Savoy

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Essex Gazette (May 26, 1772).

“Every Article in the Apothecary Way.”

Nathaniel Dabney owned a shop called “Head of HIPPOCRATES” in Salem, Massachusetts. In an advertisement from the Essex Gazette on May 25, 1772, Dabney announced he had a “fresh and full Assortment of Drugs, Medicines, Groceries, Instruments,” and more, indicating that he ran an apothecary shop. An apothecary shop in 1772 and modern pharmacies are very similar.  That inspired me to find out more about medicine in the colonies during the eighteenth century.

Individuals who ran apothecary shops, who sold or administered medicines, did not require any education or licensure, nor did physicians. In “Medical Practice in Colonial America,” Whitefield J. Bell, Jr., notes that “only one in nine Virginia physicians of the eighteenth century had attended a medical school.”[1] Physicians and apothecaries often learned from experience instead of formal training.  This began to change in the colonies in 1772, the year Dabney posted this advertisement. Bell details the Medical Society of New Jersey dedicated to getting legislation passed that required physicians to obtain licensure by the courts to practice “after examination by a board of medical men.” The society’s goal was “to discourage and discountenance all quacks, mountebanks, imposters, or other ignorant pretenders to medicine, and not to associate professionally with any except those who had been regularly initiated into medicine.”[2] Requiring training for physicians was an improvement that colonists enacted during the era of the American Revolution.

**********

ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY:  Carl Robert Keyes

Kelsey astutely observes that many eighteenth-century apothecary shops and twenty-first century retail pharmacies have much in common.  Neither of them exclusively carried drugs and medicines, though selling remedies of all sorts gave those establishments their primary identity.  Nathaniel Dabney (or Nathanael Dabney in other advertisements) made that clear when he selected Hippocrates, a physician from ancient Greece widely considered the “Father of Medicine,” to identify his shop.

In his newspaper notice, Dabney commenced the list of merchandise available at “the Head of HIPPOCRATES” with a “fresh and full Assortment of Drugs, [and] Medicines” and cataloged several familiar patent medicines from his “Assortment” of goods.  He sold “Turlington’s original Balsam of Life,” “Bateman’s Pectoral Drops,” “Dr. Walker’s Jesuits Drops,” “Anderson’s and Locker’s Pills,” and “Hooper’s Female [Pills],” as well as other patent medicines less commonly mentioned in newspaper advertisements.  Those nostrums were the over-the-counter medications of the day.  Customers could consult with the apothecary of they wished, just like customers ask pharmacists in retail stores for advice today, but many also selected patent medicines based on their reputation and common knowledge about the maladies they supposedly relieved.

Yet Dabney, like other apothecaries, hawked other goods.  His apothecary shop, like modern retail pharmacies, doubled as a convenience store where customers could acquire groceries, home health care equipment and supplies, and a variety of other items.  In his advertisement, Dabney promoted “Groceries,” including cinnamon, cloves, raisins, and “Flour of Mustard, by the Dozen or single Bottle.”  He also had supplies for the “Clothiers Business” and the “Painters Business,” mostly items for producing colors.  In addition, Dabney sold medical instruments to physicians, a practice not followed by most modern retail pharmacies that focus on providing care to consumers.  All the same, a visit to the Head of Hippocrates in 1772 likely would not have been that much different from a visit to CVS, Rite Aid, or other retail pharmacy today.

**********

[1] Whitfield J. Bell, Jr., “Medical Practice in Colonial America,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 31, no. 5 (September-October 1957): 444.

[2] Bell, “Medical Practice in Colonial America,” 453.

January 22

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago this week?

Pennsylvania Chronicle (January 20, 1772).

“All sorts of Chymical and Galenical Medicines (truly prepared).”

When Townsend Speakman opened an apothecary shop on Market Street in Philadelphia in the early 1770s, he took to the pages of the Pennsylvania Chronicle to offer his services.  In an advertisement in the January 20, 1772, edition, he introduced himself as a “Chymist and Druggist, LATE FROM LONDON.”  Like many others who migrated across the Atlantic, he asserted his credentials as a means of establishing his reputation among prospective clients.  Speakman declared that he “served a regular apprenticeship to the business.”  In addition, he “had several years further experience therein, in a house of the first reputation in LONDON.”

That accrued additional benefits for his prospective clients beyond the expertise and experience the “Chymist and Druggist” gained during his apprenticeship and subsequent employment.  His connections to an apothecary shop “of the first reputation” meant that he could “procur[e] articles of the best quality” for the “most reasonable rates” for his customers.  He vowed to pass along the savings, promising to “sell on as low terms as any in this city.”  Speakman also emphasized quality elsewhere in his advertisement.  He assured readers that he sold “all sorts of Chymical and Galenical Medicines (truly prepared).”  That phrase suggested both his skill in compounding medications and the authenticity of the ingredients he used.  To underscore the point, Speakman pledged that “Family receipts [or remedies], and physical prescriptions, are carefully and correctly compounded.”  Furthermore, he carried “the best of Drugs [and] Patent Medicines.”

As a newcomer unknown to the prospective clients that he wished to engage, Speakman sought to convince readers that he merited their trust in preparing and providing medicines.  He emphasized both his formal training through an apprenticeship as well as his additional experience working in an apothecary shop “of the first reputation” in London.  He brought his expertise to Philadelphia, vowing to supply clients with “truly prepared” medicines of the best quality.  The apothecary achieved success in the Quaker City.  In the late 1780s, he supplemented his newspaper advertisements with an engraved billhead for writing receipts for customers.

Billhead, Townsend Speakman, 1789. Courtesy Historical Society of Pennsylvania.

October 15

GUEST CURATOR:  Colleen Barrett

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Essex Gazette (October 15, 1771).

“Apothecary’s SHOP, AT THE Head of Hippocrates.”

On October 15, 1771, Nathanael Dabney advertised his apothecary shop in the Essex Gazette. Dabney sold “Drugs, Medicines, AND Groceries” in Salem, Massachusetts. This is one of many examples of advertisements for medicines in the newspapers of the period. Dabney sold medicines and other items imported from London, including “Patent Medicines of every sort from Dicey & Okell’s Original Wholesale Warehouse.”  According to the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of American History, patent medicines, like those mentioned in the advertisement, “are named after the ‘letters patent’ granted by the English crown.” Furthermore, the maker of any of these medicines had “a monopoly over his particular formula. The term ‘patent medicine’ came to describe all prepackaged medicines sold ‘over-the-counter’ without a doctor’s prescription” in later years.  Dabney also mentioned the services he provided at his shop, letting customers know that he “will wait on them at all Hours of the Day and Night.”

**********

ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY:  Carl Robert Keyes

As Colleen notes, customer service was an important element of Nathanael Dabney’s marketing efforts.  He concluded his advertisement with a note that “Family Prescriptions” were “carefully put up, and Orders from the Country punctually obeyed.”  A manicule helped to draw attention to these services.  That Dabney “put up” prescriptions suggests that he was an apothecary who compounded medications at his shop rather than merely a shopkeeper who specialized in patent medicines.  He likely possessed a greater degree of expertise about the drugs and medicines he sold than retailers who included patent medicines among a wide array of imported goods.

Prospective customers did not need to visit Dabney’s shop “AT THE Head of Hippocrates” in Salem.  Instead, the apothecary offered the eighteenth-century equivalent of mail order service for clients who resided outside of town.  He assured them that they did not have to worry about receiving less attention than those who came into his apothecary shop.  Instead, he “punctually obeyed” their orders, echoing the sentiments of other advertisers who provided similar services.

In addition to customer service, Dabney attempted to entice potential customers with promises of quality, declaring that he imported his drugs “from the best House in LONDON.”  He made a point of mentioning that he received “Patent Medicines of every Sort from Dicey & Okell’s Original Wholesale Warehouse,” an establishment well known in London and the English provinces.  According to P.S. Brown, newspaper advertisements published in Bath in 1770 referred to “Dicey and Okell’s great original Elixir Warehouse.”[1]  Dabney may have hoped to benefit from name recognition when he included his supplier in his advertisement.

The apothecary promised low prices, stating that he sold his wares “at the cheapest rate,” but he devoted much more of his advertisement to quality and customer service.  He waited on customers whenever they needed him “at all Hours of the Day and Night,” compounded medications, and promptly dispatched orders to the countryside, providing a level of care that consumers did not necessarily receive from shopkeepers who happened to carry patent medicines.

**********

[1] P.S. Brown, “Medicines Advertised in Eighteenth-Century Bath Newspapers,” Medical History 20, no. 2 (April 1976):  153.