Reflections from Guest Curator Olivia Burke

In the twenty-first century, many people, including myself, skim over advertisements that appear in newspapers or magazines and oftentimes find them annoying. Before partaking in this project, I had little experience with interpreting advertisements nor had I given much thought to advertisements in the eighteenth century. However, as I dove into this project, I quickly began to recognize the importance of these advertisements as manifestations of culture in the eighteenth century.

In that period, print culture was an important aspect of society that I was able to see firsthand in the Adverts 250 Project. Newspapers were one of the colonists’ primary basis for communication with each other. In looking at them in the twenty-first century, they serve as a methodology in learning about everyday life in the American colonies in 1769 and the era of the American Revolution more generally. Analyzing advertisements from the newspapers printed in the colonies in 1769 improved my interpretation skills but also gave me a primary source glimpse into colonial life.

The Adverts 250 Project allowed me to “do” history. I had to not only read and understand the variety of advertisements that were printed, but I also had to do background research from credible sources to be able to get an inside look at the significance of the advertisements at this time. I took data from digital databases, primary sources, and secondary sources to be able to research and analyze each advertisement and then make it available to a variety of public audiences. Research to gain a full understanding of the topic was crucial, but I also had to keep in mind that this is a public history project. Picking advertisements that would be interesting to the general public was important. Because many others view this project daily, correct information and insightful analysis was crucial. An example of how this project allowed me to do history was the advertisement for a paint store I analyzed on March 4. In today’s society, anyone can buy a $30 can of paint and color their house white, red, blue, or tan without much thought. However, back in the eighteenth century, paint was expensive and certain colors were only available to the wealthy. It is important to look at these advertisements with an eye focused on the culture of the eighteenth century and how it differs from the twenty-first century and be able to relay that to the public.

Carl Robert Keyes and Olivia Burke examining eighteenth-century newspapers at the American Antiquarian Society. (Courtesy Assumption College Office of Communications)

I was able to go to the American Antiquarian Society to access their databases and see original editions of some of these newspapers with my own eyes. Students at Assumption College are blessed to be so close to the Antiquarian Society, where I was able to access the largest collection of early American newspapers in the world. Thanks to this research library, I was able to contribute to the Adverts 250 Project by using their collections to get a more complete view of American culture in the eighteenth century.

One of my favorite parts about this project was really digging deep into certain subjects. I used outside sources to be able to fully analyze and understand the cultural importance that a short advertisement can provide. For example, the advertisement I analyzed on March 7 was about flour of mustard. An archeological study of mustard bottles found at a Loyalist homestead in Canada showed the shift from imported British goods to goods grown and sold in the colonies and, eventually, the new nation. The advertisement proudly states “The best New-England Flour of Mustard.” Through this advertisement, we see the important shift from reliance of British goods to the colonies attempting to become more self-sustaining. However, this was also one of the most difficult aspects of the project. There are so many avenues that I could research in each ad that sometimes it was difficult to choose what part I wanted to analyze.

This brings us to another important aspect of the Adverts 250 Project that I loved.   Advertisements were a window into an emerging pride and nationalism in colonial America. As the colonists become more connected with each other through print culture, including newspaper advertisements, thoughts about revolution began to swirl. As I mentioned earlier with the mustard advertisement, colonists were trying to become self-sufficient and did not want to rely on Britain for everything. This is exhibited in advertisements in the eighteenth century newspapers that I was able to explore in the Adverts 250 Project.

The Adverts 250 Project got me thinking: in 250 years will historians look back to our society now and analyze the advertisements in our newspapers and other media? What will they tell future researchers about the early twenty-first century? Overall, this project enriched my understanding of the products and services that people in the colonial and Revolutionary periods relied upon. We can see their needs on a day-to-day basis. I was able to participate in writing history by asking the question: “why does this matter?” With each advertisement I interpreted, I was able to go deeper and discover different aspects of colonial society. I am fortunate to be able to participate in the Adverts 250 Project this semester and I hope to be able to work with Professor Keyes again in the future.

March 9

GUEST CURATOR: Olivia Burke

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

Boston Weekly News-Letter (March 9, 1769).

“LEMMONS new Fruit.”

Many kinds of fruit were considered a rare luxury in the eighteenth century, primarily only available for the wealthy. This was a direct result of where fruit grew and how people got it. Colonists had two options when it came to acquiring fruit: locally grown or imported, both of which were only available in season.

Colonists enjoyed fruit they introduced to North America, like apples and peaches, as well as indigenous plants that they had added to their diet, like strawberries, cherries, and grapes. Even with this variety, colonists had to settle for what could be grown in their specific climate or a particular time of year. John Crosby advertised another kind of fruit: lemons. As Mark Ziarko explains, “Naturally, tropical species like citrus fruits and pineapples became the zenith of the colonial fruit hierarchy. If someone really wanted to demonstrate their wealth, these imported fruits were the way to go.”

Because fruit was expensive to acquire, it became a form of showing status. Fresh fruit could be displayed on a fruit dish as decoration and as a status symbol. People who could afford fruit wanted to show it off to others. Fresh fruit was not always a practical purchase because it could be expensive and did not have a long shelf life. For colonial Americans, eating fresh fruit was more than just a tasty and healthy snack; it was a way to show wealth and class.

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ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY: Carl Robert Keyes

John Crosby set up shop “at the Sign of the Basket of Lemmons, South-End” in Boston. In an era before standardized street numbers, colonists relied on various landmarks, including shop signs, to give directions and indicate locations. Many merchants, shopkeepers, artisans, tavernkeepers, and others purveyors of consumer goods and services erected signs to mark where they conducted business. Some tied the images they selected directly to their occupation, as John Crosby, “Lemmon-Trader,” did with his “Sign of the Basket of Lemmons,” but others chose distinctive images that did not necessarily testify to the merchandise they offered for sale.

Some advertisers did not incur the expense of having their own sign painted or carved. Instead, they treated signs posted by neighbors as landmarks to help guide prospective customers to their own shops. On the same day that Crosby inserted his advertisement in the Boston Weekly News-Letter, Elias Dupee announced upcoming auctions at his “New AUCTION-ROOM” in the Boston Chronicle. Lest potential bidders confuse his establishment with any of the several other auction houses in the bustling port city, he offered extensive directions that included a shop sign: “Between the Swing and Draw-bridge, near the Golden-key, over Mr John Dupee Mathematical Instrument-maker’s shop.” Similarly, Hammatt and Brown sold imported groceries and housewares “near the Sign of the Cornfield, in Union-street.” According to his advertisement in the same issue of Boston Evening-Post as Hammatt and Brown’s notice, John Hunt hawked “a good Assortment of Ironmongery, Braizery, Cutlery and Pewter” at a shop located “next Door Northward of the Heart and Crown, in Cornhill.” The Heart and Crown happened to be the emblem that marked the printing shop operated by T. and J. Fleet, the publishers of the Boston Evening-Post. The image also appeared in the masthead of the newspaper, augmenting its familiarity to colonists in Boston.

Crosby’s advertisement does more than reveal what kinds of goods were offered for sale in Boston as spring approached in 1769. It also testifies to the sights colonists glimpsed as they traversed the streets of the city. Shop signs, like the “Basket of Lemmons,” decorated buildings while also aiding both residents and visitors as they made their way through the busy port. Some advertisers adopted the images depicted via their shop signs as brands that represented their businesses, but those signs first served other purposes in the visual landscape of Boston and other cities.

March 8

GUEST CURATOR: Olivia Burke

Who was the subject of an advertisement in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Georgia Gazette (March 8, 1769).

“RUN AWAY … CUFFY and BERSHEBA.”

Slavery advertisements were common in eighteenth-century newspapers, especially in the Georgia Gazette and other newspapers in southern colonies,. In the advertisement, Shand and Henderson offered a monetary reward for two of their slaves who ran away: Cuffy and Bersheba. They offered twenty shillings for each of them. This was one of six advertisements concerning slavery in this issue. In the Georgia Gazette, advertisements for slaves were just as common as advertisements for tea, household goods, and property for sale.

In a chapter on “Runaway Advertisements in Colonial Newspapers,” Victoria Bissell Brown and Timothy J. Shannon discuss how colonists saw slaves as material goods, not as human beings. “One of the great advantages to reading these advertisements in their original context is to comprehend how casually colonial Americans bought and sold human laborers.”[1] Based on the look inside colonial society that newspapers give us, we are able to see how colonists in the eighteenth century did not think twice about seeing an advertisement for a runaway slave next to one for a stray horse. As revolution drew closer to becoming a reality, slavery began to decline in the north but it remained strong in the south, where advertisements like this one were very common.

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ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY: Carl Robert Keyes

Olivia notes that in addition to Shand and Henderson’s notice about Cuffy and Bersheba making their escape, five other advertisements concerning enslaved men, women, and children appeared in the March 8, 1769, edition of the Georgia Gazette. Two of them reported on runaways that had been captured. Two offered enslaved people for sale, wile the final one offered an enslaved woman “To be hired out” as a domestic servant. When it came to such advertisements in the Georgia Gazette, this was actually relatively few compared to most issues. That newspaper often featured a dozen or more advertisements related to enslavement. They constituted an important source of revenue for James Johnston, the printer.

Olivia challenges us to consider how unremarkable white colonists found these advertisements that appeared week after week throughout the colonial period. This certainly reveals something significant about the attitudes of most colonists, but these advertisements also tell important stories about the experiences of enslaved people. Consider not only Cuffy and Bersheba but also their counterparts in the advertisements reporting Africans and African Americans who had been “TAKEN UP” or “”Brought to the Work-house.” Cuffy and Bersheba were both approximately twenty-five years old. Both spoke “good English,” indicating that they were either born in the colonies or had been transported there quite some time ago. When they made their escape, Cuffy had “leg irons on” (and Bersheba may have as well, though the wording of the advertisement does not make it clear). Shand and Henderson made every effort to keep them around, but Cuffy and Bersehba were determined to free themselves. Sampson, Molly, and an unnamed infant were discovered “on the Indian Country Path,” making their escape from a “master [who] lives near the salt water.” Sampson “speaks such bad English as scarcely to be understood,” suggesting that he may not have been enslaved his entire life. Michael, a “TALL STOUT ABLE NEGROE FELLOW” who had been confined to the workhouse in Savannah definitely had not been born into slavery in Georgia. He spoke little English. The advertisement reported that he was “of the Coromantee country” and had “his country marks thus ||| on each side of his face,” referring to ritual scarification.

Each of these advertisements provides a miniature and incomplete biography of enslaved people who attempted to seize their own liberty in the era of the American Revolution. White colonists placed them for one reason, recovering their human property, but these advertisements ultimately served an unintended purpose. They testified to the agency and resistance of enslaved men and women. Although not in their own words, these advertisements tell the stories of people who had few opportunities to create documents that recorded their own experiences.

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[1] Victoria Bissell Brown and Timothy J. Shannon, Going to the Source: The Bedford Reader in American History (Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2004), 48.

March 7

GUEST CURATOR: Olivia Burke

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

Essex Gazette (March 7, 1769).

“The best New-England Flour of Mustard.”

In “A Taste for Mustard: An Archaeological Examination of a Condiment and Its Bottles from a Loyalist Homestead in Upper Canada,” Denise C. McGuire provides an overview of mustard production and consumption and examines an excavation of the Butler Homestead site in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario. “Flour of Mustard” was very popular in Britain. It played an important role in eighteenth-century cooking, but was also considered to have medicinal value. It also reveals changes in transatlantic trade. Initially imported in the American colonies, it was subsequently grown there. As we can see in this advertisement, flour of mustard was sold in the colonies; it even specifically states that it was “New-England Flour of Mustard,” proudly showing that the mustard was grown and produced in the colonies.

That production continued after the American Revolution, intended for local consumption as well as export. When a cache of glass bottles was discovered, the square shape led McGuire to believe that they were mustard bottles. The discoveries at the Butler Homestead show that Loyalists got their flour of mustard from American producers after the Revolution. “[E]ven two generations after the first wave of Loyalist settlement, the ability to acquire simple commodities was not always easily accessible in more remote locations.”[1] Such evidence shows that the Butler family retained commercial ties to upstate New York even after the Revolutionary War.

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ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY: Carl Robert Keyes

When she consulted me about including this advertisement among those she would examine during her week as guest curator, Olivia expressed some concern about Chloe Amour previously examined flour of mustard in another advertisement recently featured on the Adverts 250 Project. She did not wish to duplicate the work of one of her peers. I encouraged her to continue with Thomas Walley’s advertisement, especially after she revealed that she had already consulted McGuire’s article. We certainly had more to learn about this particular commodity. As we move chronologically from the imperial crisis to the early republic, our Revolutionary America class has so far focused on the politics and economics of producing, trading, and consuming goods in the 1760s through the early 1780s. By incorporating mustard bottles uncovered during an archaeological excavation of a Loyalist site in Canada, Olivia has given our class a preview of the period we will be examining later in the semester.

For my part, I’m interested in the many similarities between Walley’s advertisement in the Essex Gazette and William Chace’s advertisement in the Providence Gazette. Both named their products “New-England Flour of Mustard,” emphasizing that it had been produced locally. Walley underscored that his mustard “has been greatly admired, both for its Strength and Flavor, by all that have used it.” Similarly, Chace proclaimed that his mustard “is allowed by the best Judges to be superior both for Strength and Flavour to any imported.” In this instance, Chace more explicitly attached a political meaning to acquiring his mustard, comparing it imports that many colonists had vowed to eschew as acts of economic resistance against the Townshend Acts. Walley made a nod toward such appeals when he offered to make “An Allowance … to those that buy to sell again, in order to encourage this Manufacture.” Such discounts may have helped to move his product out the door and, eventually, into the hands of greater numbers of consumers, but they also invoked images of “domestic manufacture” so often touted in news and editorials, especially in those moments that the imperial crisis intensified. Even Samuel Hall, the printer of the Essex Gazette, stocked a “small Parcel of the above Mustard” to make it available to residents of Salem who might not otherwise have an opportunity to acquire it from Walley at his store in Boston. In advancing similar appeals to prospective customers, Walley and Chace demonstrated that they participated in a larger conversation about the meaning of mustard. In the late 1760s, mustard did more than merely flavor food. It was enmeshed in the politics of the period.

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[1] Denise C. McGuire, “A Taste for Mustard: An Archaeological Examination of a Condiment and Its Bottles from a Loyalist Homestead in Upper Canada,” International Journal of Historical Archaeology 20, no. 4 (December 2016): 680.

March 6

GUEST CURATOR: Olivia Burke

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

Boston Evening-Post (March 6, 1769).

“A neat Assortment of China, flower’d and plain Glass and Stone Ware.”

Advertisements like this were very common in newspapers in the latter half of the eighteenth century. Hammatt and Brown had for sale an impressive list of goods, including tea, chocolate, cotton wool and a “neat Assortment” of china, glass, and stoneware. This advertisement displayed the expanding consumer culture in the colonies. No longer were people producing things for self-sufficiency. As T.H. Breen explains, “[A] pioneer world of homespun cloth and wooden dishes … was swept away by a flood of store-bought sundries.”[1] Colonists became interested in things and what those material goods did for their image. This change also led to an emergence of a commonalities and a community mindset among colonists of different areas. For example, in “Baubles of Britain”; The American and Consumer Revolutions of the Eighteenth Century,” Breen describes a “shared language of consumption.”[2] People in the colonies had this newfound connection with each other. A colonist from Massachusetts would see the type of fabric a visitor from a southern colony wore and immediately know the material and social class that went with it. This created a common connection among people and subsequently grew a feeling of nationalism through the colonies as the imperial crisis with Britain drew to its boiling point.

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ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY: Carl Robert Keyes

As Olivia indicates, advertisements of this sort were indeed commonly inserted in eighteenth-century newspapers, especially in those published in the largest port cities. Although they ran in every newspaper printed in the colonies, they appeared in greater numbers and with greater frequency in publications from Boston, Charleston, New York, and Philadelphia. In each of those cities, advertisers contended not only with competitors who placed advertisements in the same newspapers they did but also with rival merchants and shopkeepers who advertised in other newspapers as well as those who did not advertise at all. The advertisements in the Boston Evening-Post, for instance, reveal only a small portion of the commercial landscape that made consumer goods available in colonial Massachusetts.

When they decided to advertise the assortment of goods they sold at their shop in Union Street, Hammatt and Brown chose from among several newspapers published in Boston. The Boston Chronicle, the Boston Evening-Post, the Boston-Gazette, the Boston Post-Boy, and Green and Russell’s Massachusetts Gazette were all published on Mondays. A second issue of the Boston Chronicle came out on Thursdays, along with the Boston Weekly News-Letter and Draper’s Massachusetts Gazette. Each included an array of advertisements that hawked the same kinds of wares that Hammatt and Brown listed in their notice. Some merchants and shopkeepers opted to advertise in more than one publication, but others, like Hammatt and Brown, confined themselves to a single newspaper. Among them, advertisers created sufficient copy to barrage colonial readers and potential customers with lists of goods and encouragement to acquire them. Advertising often accounted for as much as half or more of each newspaper. Advertisers submitted so many notices to T. and J. Fleet’s printing office that the issue of the Boston Evening-Post that carried Hammatt and Brown’s advertisement was accompanied by a two-page supplement comprised entirely of advertisement, including Thomas Knight’s advertisement that listed almost all of the same merchandise. Elsewhere in the colonies, other newspapers carried advertisements that peddled similar inventory, contributing to a shared experience, as both readers and consumers, among colonists from New Hampshire to Georgia.

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[1] Breen, “‘Baubles of Britain’: The American and Consumer Revolutions of the Eighteenth Century,” Past and Present 119, (May 1988): 78

[2] Breen, 76.

March 5

GUEST CURATOR: Olivia Burke

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

New-Hampshire Gazette (March 3, 1769).

“JUDITH, the Wife of me the Subscriber, hath Eloped from me”

In this advertisement in the New Hampshire Gazette, William Sampson said that his wife left him and would no longer live with him. He cautioned the public from trusting her or letting her charge things to his account; it was a typical warning in advertisements similar to this one. Sampson reported that his wife had “eloped” from him. Eloped in this sense meant she left suddenly. There is no information in the advertisement about what transpired between the couple to give readers an understanding of why she left.

At this time, divorces were nearly impossible to obtain, according to Dorothy Mays in Women in Early America: Struggle, Survival and Freedom in a New World. In a marital relationship, a wife’s duties centered around maintaining and running the household.[1] Marital relations were conservative partnerships in which the wife was understood to act faithfully to her husband at all times. Women were not able to act independently for themselves. Once they got married to a man, they had no legal options to leave. The only way to get out of a marriage was to leave on their own accord. In this advertisement it appears that Judith did just that. This is a daring move given the way colonists looked upon women who disrupted and acted outside of their place in society, a move met with public humiliation in the newspaper.

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ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY: Carl Robert Keyes

Olivia is correct that advertisements like the one William Sampson placed concerning his wife Judith departing from their home and refusing to live with him were intended to humiliate women when they engaged in such acts of resistance. Yet Judith would not have been the only partner in that relationship who experienced public scrutiny and disgrace for her actions. By placing a notice in the New-Hampshire Gazette, William made a public pronouncement that he was incapable of exercising the patriarchal authority that he was supposed to wield. He had been unable to keep Judith in her place as a dutiful helpmate and had to resort to cutting off her credit when she “Eloped” from him.

As Olivia indicates, this advertisement does not provide much detail about what transpired between Judith and William. It succinctly deployed formulaic language that appeared in such advertisements in newspapers throughout the colonies. Some readers, especially those who lived near the Sampsons in Arundel, may have been quite familiar with the causes of the domestic discord. Considering that the situation got to the point that Judith eloped, friends and neighbors had likely already witnessed some of the disagreements between the couple. They did not need William to rehearse them in a newspaper notice, nor did he necessarily wish to air all of his grievances with his wife in a public forum and, in the process, demonstrate his shortcomings as a husband to a much broader audience.

Other husbands who placed such advertisement, however, did provide much greater detail about the misbehavior of their wives. They accrued personal embarrassment when doing so, but may have calculated that the public would direct greater opprobrium at recalcitrant wives when presented with evidence of their impudence. In placing these advertisements, husbands exercised one more form of authority usually beyond the reach of wives: using the public prints to advance their version of events to the disadvantage of wives who had “eloped.” Very rarely did runaway wives publish notices in response. The printers who published advertisements on behalf of their husbands already knew not to extend them credit; they reserved whatever resources they had in their possession for necessities rather than newspaper notices.

Like advertisements for runaway indentured servants and enslaved men and women who escaped from those who held them in bondage, advertisements for runaway wives tell truncated stories from the perspectives of those who believed they had been aggrieved by the runaways. When considered from the perspective of the subjects of the advertisements, however, these notices tell stories of resistance that contribute to a more complete rendering of the past, one that incorporates the agency and experiences of colonists often marginalized in the historical record.

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[1] Dorothy A. Mays, Women on Early America: Struggle, Survival, and Freedom in a New World (Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2004), 251

March 4

GUEST CURATOR: Olivia Burke

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

Supplement to the New-York Journal (March 4, 1769).

“PAINT STORE … Yellow oaker … Prussian blue.”

This advertisement for a paint store can gives a look into status in colonial America by listing different color paints. In eighteenth-century America, some paint colors represented wealth and high social standing, but others did not. Some pigments were easier to produce so were therefore cheaper. For example, iron oxide pigment created a dark red color and was readily available and primarily used by people of a lower status. Other paint colors were hard to achieve, like “Prussian blue” and “Yellow oaker” (ochre), both in this advertisement.

When the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation was working on restoring their historic buildings, historians had to figure out what the original colors of some of the historic buildings were to return them to how they appeared in the eighteenth century. However, not all the buildings survived and some that did did not have paint residues left on them. Historians had to make educated guesses as to what the original colors were. To figure this out, they looked to the houses’ values in the eighteenth century. One house was valued at 1100 pounds in 1790, a very large amount. “This indicated a higher-status structure,” according to Paul Aron, causing the team to choose yellow ochre, an expensive and sought-after color of the gentry. Another house, only valued at 70 pounds, was painted brown, a cheaper pigment that was readily available for the lower sorts. The paint types being sold in the advertisement would be primarily only available to the middling and better sorts. Just by the color, a house and therefore a family could display their wealth and social standing. Paint colors help to tell the story about how colonists made distinctions between social classes.

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ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY: Carl Robert Keyes

March 4 fell on a Saturday in 1769. The New-York Journal was not usually published on Saturdays, but John Holt, the printer, made an exception when he distributed a two-page supplement just two days after the newspaper’s usual publication date. Supplements usually appeared on the same day as regular issues, especially when printers already had the news in hand. Breaking news that could not wait until the next issue sometimes merited speedy publication in a midweek supplement or extraordinary issue, such as news of the repeal of the Stamp Act in the spring of 1766.

Yet this supplement did not deliver breaking news, suggesting that Holt just did not have enough time to print the supplement for distribution on Thursday. He offered a brief description of its contents at the top of the first column on the first page: “[Further Advices by Capt. Berrian, left out, on Thursday last for want of Room.]” Those “Advices” from Berlin and London, a series of news items, filled the entire first page and most of the second. To complete the supplementary issue, Holt inserted brief updates from Charleston and Boston, a little bit of local news from New York, and four advertisements. L. Kilburn’s notice concerning his “PAINT STORE, at the White-Hall” was one of those advertisements.

That advertisement, or any other advertisement from the New-York Journal, usually would not have been an option for Olivia to analyze. As I explained in a recent entry about the Adverts 250 Project’s methodology and the distribution of newspaper publication throughout the week in 1769, the Providence Gazette was the only colonial newspaper published on Saturdays in 1769 (which correspond to dates that fall on Mondays in 1769). During most other weeks, the methodology would have prescribed that Olivia choose from among the advertisements in the Providence Gazette, a newspaper overrepresented in the project because it was the only one published on Saturdays.

In selecting an advertisement from the Supplement to the New-York Journal, Olivia continues a practice that I had previously instituted: choosing advertisements from midweek supplements whenever possible as a means of addressing the overrepresentation of the Essex Gazette (published on Tuesdays in 1769), the Georgia Gazette (Wednesdays) and the Providence Gazette (Saturdays).

March 3

GUEST CURATOR: Olivia Burke

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

Connecticut Journal (March 3, 1769).

“OAKUM by the Hundred, or lesser Quantity.”

Oakum is a product made from old rope. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, oakum consisted of “loosely twisted fibres obtained chiefly by untwisting and picking old hemp rope” Workers shredded and separated the fibers of “junk,” old unusable ropes, to create fine, thin fibers. This product, oakum, was a crucial commodity in the shipping industry. It was used as caulking to seal and pack the joints of wooden vessels. Later oakum was used for deck planking for iron and steel ships, in plumbing, and sealing joints in cast iron piping. Today, hemp or jute are used instead.

In this advertisement, Israel Bunnel claims that customers could get his oakum “as Cheap as may be bought in New-York, or Boston.” Oakum was a crucial element for shipbuilding and repairs, making it highly sought after in colonial ports. Bunnel reassured the consumer that his product was just as good and just as cheap as the oakum being sold in Boston and New York, which in 1769 were some of the most important ports in the colonies.

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ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY: Carl Robert Keyes

Israel Bunnel placed his advertisement for oakum in the Connecticut Journal and New-Haven Post-Boy. As Olivia notes, he favorably compared the price for his oakum to what customers could expect to pay in Boston and New York, thus placing himself in direct competition with suppliers in those much larger and busier ports located in the same region as New Haven. In so doing, he adopted a strategy sometimes deployed by shopkeepers in smaller towns: places like Boston and New York were bigger, but that did not necessarily mean that better deals could be found there.

Bunnel’s advertisement addressed more than one aspect of life in a colonial port. In addition to peddling oakum, he inserted a nota bene to announce that he “teaches in the easiest and familiar manner, NAVIGATION as Usual.” Although he did not describe his curriculum, it most likely incorporated celestial navigation aided by the use of various equipment, including sextants, quadrants, and charts. He provided an important service in a seafaring town, one that might produce opportunities for advancement for those who could afford to pay the fees for his instruction, but only if they mastered his lessons. That Bunnel stated that he taught navigation “as Usual” suggests that he had been doing so for some time, long enough that some readers would have been familiar with his reputation as an instructor.

The shipping news appeared on the same page as Bunnel’s advertisement. During the past week the “Sloop Cloe” and the “Sloop Polly” had both “ENTRED in” at the customs house. The “Sloop Charlotte,” the “Sloop Greyhound,” and the “Sloop Diamond” had all been “CLEARED” for departure to the Caribbean. Even if the captains and sailors did not trade with Bunnel while in New Haven, all of them depended on both the goods and services that he provided to the maritime community.

Welcome, Guest Curator Olivia Burke!

Olivia Burke is a junior at Assumption College. She is majoring in history and is in the Honors Program. Next year, Olivia will complete her senior capstone thesis on the African American experience in the Civilian Conservation Corps. Besides the Honors Program, Olivia competes on the equestrian team, is in music ministry, and works in Admissions as an administrative assistant. Seasonally, Olivia is an interpretation ranger for the National Park Service at Cape Cod National Seashore. She leads programs for the public such as guided hikes, activities for children, and history lectures.

Welcome, Olivia Burke!