June 29

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

Maryland Gazette (June 29, 1775).

“THE manufactory of snuff of various sorts is now carried on by me at this place.”

On the eve of the American Revolution, Richard Thompson attempted to establish a market for snuff produced in Virginia.  In “The Beginnings of Tobacco Manufacture in Virginia,” Jacob M. Price argues that “there is not even a hint of a local manufacture” of snuff in Virginia from the middle of the 1730s through the late 1760s.  Most of the snuff came from Great Britain with  occasional “bottles, boxes, and kegs of snuff … appear from time to time in notices of arriving cargoes from Antigua, Boston, New York, and Salem.”  According to Price, Thompson “moved his business from Bladensburg [Maryland] to the falls of the Potomac and tried to crash the Virginia market in 1772,” placing a lengthy advertisements in the October 8 edition of William Rind’s Virginia Gazette.  “Little more is known,” Price continues, “of this early Maryland industrial pioneer and of his seemingly premature efforts to introduce a ‘patriotic’ tobacco and snuff manufacture into the Chesapeake.”[1]

An advertisement in the June 29, 1775, edition of the Maryland Gazette, published in Annapolis, reveals that Thompson continued to produce snuff at “George-town, on the Potowmack” at that time.  The “manufactory of snuff of various sorts is now carried on by me at this place,” Thompson proclaimed, “where I can furnish it either in wholesale or retail, at reasonable rates.”  In addition, Thompson had “manufactured tobacco for sale, viz. shag and saffron, and shall shortly begin and continue to manufacture it in all the different forms, if I receive proper encouragement.”  According to the date on the advertisement, Thompson first asked for that encouragement on December 27, 1774, no doubt hoping that the Continental Association, a nonimportation agreement devised by the First Continental Congress in response to the Coercive Acts, created favorable conditions for snuff produced in the colonies.  Patriotic colonizers had an obligation to support his enterprise, to give him that “proper encouragement,” but they did not have to settle for a product inferior to snuff produced elsewhere in the colonies.  In a nota bene, Thompson declared, “I will now say, and with some degree of confidence, that at present I have by me, (and shall continue to make) as good snuff as is manufactured on this continent.”  Even if his business got off to a rocky start, as Price suggests, Thompson asserted that he made improvements over time.  He composed his advertisement less than a month after the Continental Association went into effect (and a notation, “3m,” indicated that it would appear in the Maryland Gazette for three months), yet apparently decided that the time was right to revive it more than six months later after learning of the battles at Lexington and Concord.  Those battles and the events that followed meant that friends of the American cause, after all, had even more reason to support his endeavor.

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[1] Jacob M. Price, “The Beginnings of Tobacco Manufacture in Virginia,” Virginia Magazine of History and Biography 64, no. 1 (January 1956): 9, 12, 14.

June 19

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

Postscript to Dunlap’s Pennsylvania Packet (June 19, 1775).

“A NEW AMERICAN MANUFACTORY.”

As summer arrived in 1775, Ryves and Fletcher took to the pages of Dunlap’s Pennsylvania Packet to inform the public that they established a “NEW AMERICAN MANUFACTORY” where they made and sold “all kinds of PAPER HANGINGS” (better known as wallpaper today).  The eighth article of the Continental Association, the nonimportation pact devised by the First Continental Congress in the fall of 1774, called for “promot[ing] Agriculture, Arts, and the Manufactures of this Country” as alternatives to imported goods.  That charge had even greater urgency following once colonizers heard about the battles at Lexington and Concord and the ensuing siege of Boston.  When Ryves and Fletcher ran their advertisement two days after the Battle of Bunker Hill, word of that engagement had not yet arrived in Philadelphia.  When it appeared again in July, readers had even more information about momentous events in Massachusetts that likely shaped how they reacted to Ryes and Fletcher marketing paper hangings made in America.

The “PAPER STAINERS,” as Ryves and Fletcher described themselves, asserted that they “are the first who have attempted that manufacture on this continent.”  Perhaps they were not aware that Plunket Fleeson made, advertised, and sold “AMERICAN PAPER HANGINGS” in Philadelphia in 1769, though they may have conveniently overlooked that enterprise in their efforts to promote their own.  Ryves and Fletcher made significant investment in procuring both workers and materials, noting in particular that their undertaking “consumes a large quantity of the paper of this country.”  In return for their dedication to the patriot cause, they “are therefore induced to hope for the countenance and protection of all well wishers to the infant manufacturers of America.”  They did their duty as producers, but that was not enough; consumers now had an obligation to purchase the paper hangings that Ryves and Fletcher made.  The paper stainers launched a “Buy American” campaign at the beginning of the Revolutionary War.  As part of their marketing efforts, they emphasized quality, extolling the “neatness of patterns and elegance of colour,” and price, pledging that “they will sell on much more reasonable terms than any paper can be disposed of which is imported into America.”  Ryves and Fletcher were among the first to produce and market paper hangings made in America, helping establish a new industry during the era of the American Revolution.

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I provide a brief case study of patriotic advertisements for paper hangings in Carl Robert Keyes, “A Revolution in Advertising: ‘Buy American’ Campaigns in the Late Eighteenth Century,” in Creating Advertising Culture:  Beginnings to the 1930s, vol. 1, We Are What We Sell:  How Advertising Shapes American Life … And Always Has, eds. Danielle Coombs and Bob Batchelor (New York:  Praeger, 2013), 1-25.

March 20

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

Dunlap’s Pennsylvania Packet (March 20, 1775).

“The Proprietors being unwilling to deprive such as are desirous of seeing the factory, from the gratification of their curiosity.”

John Elliott and Company advertised items made at the “AMERICAN GLASS WARE-HOUSE” in Kensington, Philadelphia, as soon as the Continental Association went into effect in December 1774.  Nearly four months later, the company ran another advertisement that listed a variety of glassware – including “wine glasses of various sorts,” “tumblers of all sizes,” “hour glasses,” “tubes for thermometers,” “mustard pots,” and “lamps for halls, streets, chambers, shops, [and] weavers” – that “shop keepers and others in town or country” could purchase “as cheap [as] those imported.”  Some items were “much cheaper.”  Colonizers who abided by the nonimportation agreement did not have to pay more to acquire glassware made in the colonies; instead, they got a bargain!  Elliott and Company also informed apothecaries and others that they accepted orders and would follow patterns “left at the aforesaid Ware-house.”

Yet this enterprise did more than manufacture glassware.  Elliott and Company’s operation became a destination for the curious who wanted to witness the production of “AMERICAN GLASS” for themselves.  That had the potential to become disruptive, so the proprietors devoted the final paragraph of their advertisement to instructions for visiting.  They explained that they struck a compromise, “being unwilling to deprive such as are desirous of seeing the factory, from the gratification of their curiosity, but at the same time finding it necessary to endeavour, in some measure, to save the works from the disadvantage which must and does actually arise from the great resort of spectators.”  Accordingly, Elliott and Company charged “two shillings for each person’s admittance, expected at the gate.”  Even that fee, they claimed, “is very inadequate to the hinderance occasioned thereby,” yet, once again, the company offered a bargain.  In the process, Elliott and Company monetized visits to their production facility.  Perhaps it had not been as popular a destination as they implied.  Perhaps they exaggerated in hopes of drumming up interest in such a novelty, especially as the imperial crisis intensified and the Continental Association became even more meaningful to many colonizers.  An advertisement with instructions for visiting the factory, no matter how many people had previously been there, gave readers ideas about an outing they could make themselves.  Attracting visitors to see the works, after all, would likely translate into additional sales.

March 5

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

Supplement to the New-York Journal (March 2, 1775).

“PARCHMENT … Made and sold … [in] Philadelphia.”

In the early 1770s, Robert Wood made and sold parchment in Philadelphia, yet he did not confine his marketing or distribution of his product to that city and its hinterland.  As spring approached in 1775, he ran an advertisement in the supplement that accompanied the March 2 edition of the New-York Journal, advising prospective customers that they could acquire his parchment from local agents.  John Holt, the printer of the New-York Journal, and Hugh Gaine, the printer of the New-York Gazette and Weekly Mercury, each stocked Wood’s parchment along with books, stationery, and writing supplies at their printing offices.  In addition, Joseph Dunkley, a painter and glazier, also supplied Wood’s parchment at his workshop “opposite the Methodist Meeting House.”  The New-York Journal circulated beyond the city, so some prospective customers would have found it more convenient to acquire Wood’s parchment from Isaac Collins, a printer in Burlington, New Jersey.  According to previous advertisements, Collins had been peddling Wood’s parchment to “friends to American Manufactures” for several years.

Wood asserted that the “Demand for this Parchment [was] much increased of late,” though he left it to readers to imagine why that was the case.  Most would assume that the Continental Association, a nonimportation agreement that went into effect on December 1, 1774, played a role in increased demand for parchment produced in the colonies.  Wood likely intended for prospective customers to draw the conclusion that the quality of his product, not merely its availability, contributed to the demand.  He declared that “those who have tried it … esteemed [it] superior to most imported from England.”  He was bold enough to resort to superlatives, claiming that customers considered his parchment better than any imported to the colonies, yet he offered firm assurances about it quality.  Wood had recently met with so much demand for his parchment that he “extend[ed] his Works … to be able to supply his Customers in a manner more satisfactory than heretofore, without Fear of a Disappointment.”  In other words, he stepped up production to expand his inventory so every customer who wished to purchase his parchment could do so.  Wood answered the call of the eighth article of the Continental Association with his own “Industry” in producing “Manufactures of this Country” as alternatives to imported goods.

February 17

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

Virginia Gazette [Purdie] (February 17, 1775).

“An encouragement for making COTTON and WOOL CARDS … in this colony.”

Residents of James City County took the Continental Association seriously, especially the eighth article.  When the First Continental Congress devised that nonimportation, nonconsumption, and nonexportation agreement in response to the Coercive Acts, they included an article that called for colonizers “in our several Stations, [to] encourage Frugality, Economy, and Industry; and promote Agriculture, Arts, and the Manufactures of this Country, especially that of Wool.”  In turn, the “committee of James City county” passed a resolution for the “encouragement for making COTTON and WOOL CARDS” at its meeting in February 1775.

Within days an advertisement appeared in Alexander Purdie’s Virginia Gazette and John Dixon and William Hunter’s Virginia Gazette to inform enterprising entrepreneurs that the committee offered “a premium of forty pounds sterling … to any person who shall first settle in this colony, and who shall, within eighteen months from the date hereof, make in this colony, or cause to be made therein under his direction, five hundred pair of good cotton and five hundred pair of good wool cards … for the use of the inhabitants of this county.”

Preparing wool and cotton for spinning involved separating and straightening the fibers using two cards or paddles with fine wire teeth.  That process made wool and cotton easier to spin; it also made the cards an essential tool for producing textiles as alternatives to imported fabrics.  While the committee assumed that men would make the cards, it would be women who used them.  That gave political meaning to the activities they undertook in carding, spinning, and weaving, just as women participated in politics when they refused to purchase imported cards, imported textiles, or any other imported goods.

Making cotton and wool cards in Virginia had the potential to be a profitable venture.  In addition to the premium, the committee offered a “75 per cent. advance on what such cards have usually been imported at from Great Britain within the twelve months past.”  In other words, the committee agreed to pay nearly twice what importers had recently paid for this important tool, another incentive for producing cards in the colony.

Supporters of the American cause had already mobilized in boycotting imported goods and producing alternatives.  This advertisement suggested one more means of contributing to those efforts, making cotton and wool cards in Virginia.  A successful venture would have ripple effects as women purchased those cards and used them in processing cotton and wool to produce homespun cloth rather than buying imported textiles.  The premium offered for making cotton and wool cards was part of a larger project with significant political implications.

February 6

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

Newport Mercury (February 6, 1775).

“A METZOTINTO … of that truly staunch Patriot, the Hon. SAMUEL ADAMS.”

On February 6, 1775, Charles Reak and Samuel Okey took to the pages of the Newport Mercury to advise “subscribers to the METZOTINTO print of the Rev. JAMES HONIMAN … that it will be ready to be delivered in a few days.”  As printers often did for books, Okey, a British printmaker who migrated to Rhode Island, gauged the market by seeking subscribers to his print of James Honyman, the former rector of Trinity Church in Newport, before executing it.  That allowed him to determine whether the project would be viable and how many prints to produce to meet the demand of subscribers who reserved copies.

The print has been dated November 2, 1774, based on a line beneath the title that reads, “Printed by Reak & Okey, Newport Rhode Island, Novr. 2 1774,” yet the newspaper advertisement suggests that even though the engraving may have ready on that day that Reak and Okey printed the portrait in the following months before distributing it in February 1775.  The advertisement gives further evidence that was the case.  The partners informed readers of a forthcoming print depicting “that truly staunch Patriot, the Hon, SAMUEL ADAMS, of Boston.”  Reak and Okey explained that they “have on copper, and in great forwardness” that mezzotint.  The engraving was complete, but printing took time.

When they did deliver copies of the Honyman mezzotint to subscribers, Reak and Okey offered more than just the print to “those gentlemen and ladies who should think proper to have them framed and glazed in the modern taste.”  They promoted “some elegant carved and gilt frames, made in this colony, on purpose for the print, equal to any imported from England.”  With the Continental Association in effect, Reak and Okey gave their customers access to frames without departing from that nonimportation agreement.  The copy in the collections of the Preservation Society of Newport County is “housed in a black painted wood frame with an interior gilt gesso border,” though the description does not give the provenance of the frame.

In their choices about their latest subject, John Adams, and the frames for the James Honyman mezzotint, Reak and Okey courted customers who supported the American cause as the imperial crisis intensified.  They joined other artists and publishers who commemorated the American Revolution even before the war began at Lexington and Concord, doing so with both an image of a “staunch Patriot” and frames imbued with political as well as artistic significance.

February 5

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

Massachusetts Spy (February 2, 1775).

“BUTTONS. MADE and sold … at the Manufactory-house, Boston.”

John Clarke’s advertisement for buttons that he “MADE and sold … at the Manufactory-house” in Boston was one of several in the February 2, 1775, edition of the Massachusetts Spy that hawked goods produced in the colonies.  He advertised at a time that the harbor had been closed and blockaded for more than eight months because of the Boston Port Act, one of several measures that Parliament enacted in response to the Boston Tea Party.  The other Coercive Acts included the Massachusetts Government Act, the Administration of Justice Act, and the Quartering Act.  In turn, the colonies refused to import British goods, having previously pursued that strategy in response to the Stamp Act in 1765 and the duties imposed on certain goods in the Townshend Acts in the late 1760s.  The Continental Association, devised by the First Continental Congress, went into effect on December 1, 1774.  In addition to prohibiting imports, it called on colonizers to encourage “domestic manufactures” or goods produced in the colonies.

Clarke not only made buttons in Boston, he made “two sorts of new fashioned buttons.”  One was a “plain flat Button, with a corded edge round it, either gilt or plated.  The other bore an inscription, “UNION AND LIBERTY IN ALL AMERICA,” that made a statement.  Consumers could express political sentiments and sartorial sensibilities simultaneously.  (Similarly, the Adverts 250 Project previously examined another newspaper notice that included “glass buttons having the word liberty printed in them.”)  Clarke’s “Liberty button,” well worth the investment, cost just a little more than the “plain flat Button,” at twenty shillings per dozen compared to eighteen shillings per dozen.  Clarke also gave “good allowance to shopkeepers to sell again.”  In other words, he offered discounts to retailers who purchased his buttons and presented them to their customers.  After all, shopkeepers had their own part to play in promoting American products to consumers and supplying them with alternatives to goods imported from Britain.  When it came to buttons, what better way to do that than with the inscribed “Liberty button” made in Boston?

February 2

GUEST CURATOR:  Ella Holtman

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

Massachusetts Spy (February 2, 1775).

“AMERICAN CAKE-INK.”

This advertisement is extremely interesting because we do not use the term or commonly understand what cake ink is today. As author Harry Schenawolf explains in his Revolutionary War Journal, the Nortons’ cake ink was most likely dried iron gall ink. With a dash of water, the powder became liquid and ready to use with a quill. Iron gall ink is made from a mixture of iron sulfate, oak galls, and tree gum, ensuring it to be long-lasting, adherent, and dark.

Samuel Norton produced his own dried iron gall cake ink. Anna Norton sold it in Boston. They offered their product to any patriotic supporter of America. In the advertisement, the Nortons also reminded the public that their cake ink went for “the same rates as the British Cake-Ink is sold at in London.” They offered an American product for the same prices charged in Britain, obeying a nonimportation agreement. This alludes to the growing tension between the American colonies and Britain’s perceived unjust control in February 1775.

When the Revolutionary War started a couple of months later, American soldiers went to fight, bringing few belongings and facing long travels. Officers and soldiers easily transported and utilized cake ink. They wrote home to loved ones and shared news. Purchasing and using cake ink, like that made and sold by the Nortons, aided in communication during the era of the American Revolution.

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ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY:  Carl Robert Keyes

As Ella notes, the Nortons advertised their cake ink at an important moment.  The Boston Port Act closed the city’s harbor on June 1, 1774, severely hampering commerce.  In response, the colonies enacted the Continental Association, a nonimportation agreement, on December 1.  In addition to boycotting imported goods, the Continental Association called on colonizers to “encourage Frugality, Economy, and Industry; and promote Agriculture, Arts, and the Manufactures of this Country.”

The Nortons did just that when they marketed “AMERICAN CAKE-INK” to “all true friends to America.”  They did so at a time when other advertisers also advanced “Buy American” messages or otherwise indicated their compliance with the Continental Association.  Consider some of the advertisements that ran alongside the Nortons’ notice in the February 2, 1775, edition of the Massachusetts Spy.  Henry Christian Geyer advertised printing ink that he “manufactured … at his Shop near Liberty Tree” in Boston’s South End.  A nota bene indicated that the Massachusetts Spy “has been printed with Ink made by said Geyer, for two months past.”  A similar nota bene appeared in his advertisement in the Massachusetts Gazette and Boston Post-Boy.  Enoch Brown’s notice sporting the headline “American Manufacture” ran once again, offering textiles produced in Massachusetts and glassware “manufactured at Philadelphia” as alternatives to imported goods.  Philip Freeman inserted an advertisement for gloves that had been running for six months, lamenting the “threatening” times and asking consumers to “encourage our own Manufactures” by purchasing the gloves that he made.  In a relatively new advertisement, John Clarke hawked the buttons that he produced “at the Manufactory-house, Boston,” each inscribed, “UNION AND LIBERTY IN ALL AMERICA.” Another advertisement notices announced the sale of “SUNDRY Goods … imported in the Brigantine Venus … from London” conducted under the supervision of the local Committee of Inspection according to the provisions of the tenth article of the “American Congress Association.”

The short advertisement for “AMERICAN CAKE-INK” that Ella selected for today’s entry played its part in disseminating messages about leveraging decisions about consumption to achieve political ends, especially when considered in concert with several other advertisements in the same issue of the Massachusetts Gazette.  Consumers, these notices reminded readers, participated in politics when they chose which items purchase.

February 1

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

Pennsylvania Journal (February 1, 1775).

“No advantage shall be taken on account of the troubles between Britain and America.”

James Butland, a “FRINGE and LACE-MAKER, from BRISTOL,” set up shop in Philadelphia in the 1770s.  In an advertisement in the February 1, 1775, edition of the Pennsylvania Journal, he informed the public that he made and sold “COACHMAKER’s laces of all sorts in silk or worsted,” “all sorts of fringe and laces for beds and other furniture,” and other trimmings according to “any pattern in the English or French fashions.”

Colonizers observed the Continental Association, a nonimportation agreement enacted by the First Continental Congress in response to the Coercive Acts, at the time that Butland placed his advertisement.  Butland certainly had the Continental Association, in particular, and the imperial crisis, more generally, in mind when he made his pitch to prospective customers.  He made assurances to “the public, that no advantage shall be taken on account of the troubles between Britain and America.”  In other words, he would not raise prices on the fringe and lace he produced locally at a time that patriots refused to purchase imported goods.  Butland asserted that he had been in Philadelphia long enough that former customers knew his reputation on the matter: “any person that has had any dealings with him, knows, that he retails his goods cheaper than ever they were in this country before, and as good in quality as are imported.”  He did so even though “the materials that those goods are made with, cost more, and some of them twice the money, before they are put into the loom” compared to readymade alternatives from England.  That Butland offered such low prices under those circumstances suggested a significant markup on imported fringe and lace.

Butland did his part to satisfy consumers and to serve the American cause as the imperial crisis intensified.  Beyond his pledge not to gouge his customers with unreasonable prices during the boycott of imported goods, he sought to increase the inventory of locally produced fringes and laces available to them.  He planned “to establish a useful manufactory in this city,” vowing “to sell on the lowest terms possible.”  To that end, he sought an apprentice and an employee to assist him and aid in expanding his business.  As his advertisement made clear, Butland did his part as a producer to honor the Continental Association.  Readers now had a duty as consumers to do their part to support his endeavor.

January 29

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

Massachusetts Spy (January 26, 1775).

“American Manufacture.”

An advertisement in the January 26, 1775, edition of the Massachusetts Spy informed readers of “SUNDRY Goods, Wares and Merchandize Imported in the Brigantine Venus … from London” that would be “SOLD agreeable to The American Congress Association.”  That nonimportation agreement included provisions for selling goods imported between December 1, 1774, and February 1, 1775, yet it also called for encouraging “domestic manufactures” as alternatives to items acquired from Britain.

Enoch Brown emphasized such wares in his own advertisement in that same issue of the Massachusetts Spy.  The headline proclaimed, “American Manufacture.”  Brown reported that he stocked several kinds of textiles, a “LARGE assortment of Sagathies, Duroys, … Camblets, Calamancoes, Serge-Denim, [and] Shalloons … all which were manufactured in this Province.”  Like many other retailers who encouraged consumers to “Buy American” during the imperial crisis, Brown emphasized that his customers would not have to make sacrifices when it came to price or quality for the sake of abiding by their political principles.  These textiles, he insisted, “are equal in quality to any, and superior to most imported from England.”  In addition, customers could purchase them “much cheaper than can be procured from any part of Europe.”

Yet that was not the extent of Brown’s wares produced in the colonies.  He also stocked an “assortment of Glass Ware, manufactured at Philadelphia.”  Perhaps he stocked some of the “AMERICAN GLASS” advertised by John Elliott and Company in the Pennsylvania Journal just as the Continental Association went into effect at the beginning of December 1774.  Brown listed a variety of items, including decanters, wine glasses, and mustard pots, underscoring that “he will sell extremely cheap.”

Only after detailing products made in the colonies did Brown also mention a “general assortment of English Goods,” naming several textiles, such as “fine printed linens,” not included among those “manufactured in this Province.”  He likely attempted to liquidate inventory that had been on his shelves before the nonimportation agreement commenced, intending to “quite business very soon, unless the times mend.”  To that end, he vowed to “sell his Goods extremely cheap indeed.”  In the process, he gave priority to “American Manufacture” in his advertisement, directing readers to options that would allow them to be responsible consumers who did their part in support of the Continental Association and the American cause.