October 5

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (October 5, 1776).

“A MAP of the present seat of war, with the harbours of New-York and Perth Amboy.”

In early October 1776, John Norman, a “print-seller and engraver,” announced that he had for sale a “MAP of the present seat of war, with the harbours of New-York and Perth Amboy” at his shop on Second Street in Philadelphia.  Such a map would have been of great interest to many readers, whether political leaders, military officers, or civilians, considering that it depicted the British invasion of Long Island and occupation of New York along with the retreat of the Continental Army in August and September.  The map, a visual depiction of the region overlaid with troop movements, served as an important supplement for understanding news about current events.

The phrase “JUST published” that opened Norman’s advertisement did not necessarily mean that he was the engraver or publisher of the map, but it seems likely since he had already established his reputation as an engraver when he produced American editions of architectural manuals and he eventually gained acclaim for engraving other maps depicting the Revolutionary War as well as portraits of Patriot leaders.  At the time of writing this entry, I cannot locate a surviving copy of any map by Norman showing “the present seat of war, with the harbours of New-York and Perth Amboy,” published in 1776.  By the end of the year, engravers and publishers in London issued similar maps, but Norman certainly did not advertise and sell any of those maps.  In addition, his purpose in producing and selling such maps would have been very different than the inspiration for the London editions.  Consider, for instance, The Seat of Action, between the British and American Forces: Or an Authentic Plan of the Western Part of Long Island, with the Engagement of the 27th August 1776 between the King’s Forces and the Americans published by Robert Sayer and John Bennett in London in November 1776.  The catalog entry for that map maintained by the George Washington Presidential Library at Mount Vernon explains that the map “contained recent information regarding the British campaign to take New York City.  Printed as a broadside, the information could be transmitted in a timely manner – in this case, two months after the events depicted on the map.  After an embarrassing defeat at Bunker Hill …, Britain was eager to transmit the news of the victory in New York … to an eager audience back in England.”  Considering that Norman previously marketed prints and political cartoons that supported the American cause, he probably sold this “MAP of the present seat of war” as a means of keeping the public informed about current events rather than as a piece of pro-British propaganda.

September 24

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (September 24, 1776).

“Hancock and other printed handkerchiefs.”

When William Adcock first announced a “VENDUE” or auction of “a great variety of goods suitable to the season” to be held on September 18, 1776, he included “Hancock and Washington handkerchiefs, and a great variety of other printed handkerchiefs” among the items “exposed for sale.”  A week later he inserted another advertisement in the Pennsylvania Evening Post, informing the public that he would host another sale “at his vendue store.”  This time he promoted “a variety of GOODS, among which are … coarse white linens, checks, stripes, superfine mens and womens cotton stockings, silk and worsted knee garters, flax, gimps, fringes, [and] Hancock and other printed handkerchiefs.”  He did not include “Washington handkerchiefs” among his wares.

Did that mean that he had sold all the handkerchiefs bearing a depiction of the commander-in-chief of the Continental Army at his previous sale?  Possibly.  Even if that was the case, it did not necessarily indicate that commemorative items depicting the general were more popular than those with a likeness of the president of the Continental Congress.  The advertisements did not mention the quantity of each handkerchief available.  Adcock may have had a limited supply of “Washington handkerchiefs” compared to “Hancock handkerchiefs.”  The second advertisement did, however, clarify an element of the design of those handkerchiefs.  It was not clear from the first advertisement whether “Hancock and Washington handkerchiefs” featured both men on a single handkerchief.  Other handkerchiefs produced during the era, after all, had images of multiple prominent politicians and military officers.  “Hancock and Washington handkerchiefs” could have had profiles of the two men facing each other, but the second advertisement suggests that each prominent leader had his own commemorative handkerchief.  They may have been made in the same workshop by a savvy entrepreneur who hoped that patriotic consumers would treat them as collectibles by purchasing both rather than just one.  Given that vendues often sold goods in quantities, retailers likely purchased some of the “Hancock and Washington handkerchiefs” to stock in their own shop and sell to consumers who visited with other purchases in mind.

September 17

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (September 17, 1776).

“Hancock and Washington handkerchiefs.”

William Adcock placed an advertisement in the September 17, 1776, edition of the Pennsylvania Evening Post to inform the public of a “VENDUE” or auction scheduled for the following day.  He declared that “a great variety of goods suitable to the season” would “be exposed to sale.”  He listed some of them, mostly textiles, to give prospective bidders an idea of the available goods.  In addition to “spotted velvets, silk breeches pieces, … a large quantity of stripes and checks, … silk and worsted gloves and mits, [and] a large quantity of mens fine cotton stockings,” Adcock promoted “a great variety of other goods too tedious for an advertisement.”

He did not, however, find it “too tedious” to mention “Hancock and Washington handkerchiefs, and a great variety of other printed handkerchiefs.”  As the Museum of the American Revolution notes, “newspapers, pamphlets, and books … convey[ed] information” during the era of the American Revolution, yet “[s]imilar technology of the time – engraved copper plates, presses, and type – were used to print other paper items used for practical purposes [and the] images used on one type of item were often copied and used on other types of items,” including handkerchiefs.

Most of the handkerchiefs at Adcock’s vendue likely featured decorative patterns, but the “Hancock and Washington handkerchiefs” sported portraits of the new nation’s most prominent political leader, John Hancock, president of the Continental Congress, and its most prominent military leader, George Washington, commander-in-chief of the Continental Army.  A single handkerchief might have included images of both men.  Alternately, the politician and the general may have been depicted individually on separate handkerchiefs, presenting patriotic consumers with more merchandise to purchase.  Either way, the handkerchiefs simultaneously commemorated American leaders and commodified the American Revolution.  Consumers could demonstrate their support for the American cause by purchasing and then using or displaying these handkerchiefs.

Few such handkerchiefs have survived, in part because textiles are so fragile.  In 2023, the Museum of the American Revolution mounted an exhibition that included an anti-Stamp Act handkerchief and a heroes of the Revolution handkerchief (with Washington in the center and John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, General Nathanael Greene, and General Benjamin Lincoln in the corners), giving visitors to the museum (and the museum’s website) a glimpse of the commemorative items that the founding generation produced and purchased.

September 14

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (September 14, 1776).

“THE ART OF WAR.”

The September 14, 1776, edition of the Pennsylvania Evening Post carried updates about British maneuvers since the Continental Army’s retreat from Long Island.  The enemy invaded and occupied New York.  In the same issue, the newspaper carried an advertisement for a military manual – yet another one – published by a printer in Philadelphia.  Such notices for an array of military manuals had been appearing in the Pennsylvania Evening Post and other newspapers for the past two years.  This time, Robert Bell announced that he “Just published … THE ART OF WAR … By Monsieur De Lamont, Town-Major of Toulon [and] By the CHEVALIER DE LA VALIERE.”  Despite the significance of the news from New York, Bell’s advertisement ran as the first item in the first column on the first page.

As was common in many advertisements for books, much of the copy merely replicated the extensive subtitle that doubled as a table of contents.  Readers learned that the book consisted of three parts, “I. The duties of all military officers in actual service; … II. The duties of soldiers in general; … [and] III. The rules and practice of the greatest Generals.”  Bell added a “MEMORANDUM” to give more detail, noting that De Lamont wrote the first section and La Valiere penned the other two.  De Lamont, he further explained, held “a post of great trust, and which requires much experience to recommend a man to it.”  He gained that experience “by serving in the army for twenty-three warm campaigns, and during that time was personally engaged in many of the most considerable sieges and battles.”  Once Bell established the Town-Major of Toulon’s credentials, he explained what readers could expect to get out of the first section of The Art of War.  “All his instructions are so regular, and so just, that they in a manner make a soldier of the man that never saw a camp, and leads him, that desires to follow that course of life, so fully into the art of war, that a young officer has nothing to do when he comes into the field but only to put in practice that theory, which he has already conceived, concerning all the operations, belonging to the several posts, in an active and courageous army.”  That may have offered some reassurance to men taking on responsibilities as military officers for the first time.  Even those with more experience may have found it worthwhile to read De Lamont’s “necessary instructions” to brush up on what they needed to know.

Bell did not devote the same attention to the “second and third parts of this work … composed by Gen. La Viliere,” though he noted that the general was “another French officer of great valour and experience.”  The contents already outlined that the “duties of soldiers” included “necessary instructions, in many capital matters, by remaining ignorant of which a man, who pretends to be a soldier, will be every day in danger of brining disgrace upon himself, and material injury to the cause of his country.”  In addition, the “rules and practice of the greatest Generals” described “manœuvres of encamping, marching, order of battle, fighting, attacking, and defending strong places, with the manner of surprising towns, quarters, and armies.”

Even with so many military manuals recently published in Philadelphia, many of them by Bell, the printer believed a market existed for another one.  Current events, especially news from New York, demonstrated that American officers and soldiers needed to learn and apply as much knowledge about military operations as they could.

September 12

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (September 12, 1776).

“WAS STOLEN … A SILVER MILK URN.”

The woodcut depicting a crown suspended above a large cup likely drew attention to Thomas Shields’s advertisement.  After all, it was the only visual image that appeared in the September 12, 1776, edition of the Pennsylvania Evening Post.  Not even the masthead featured a woodcut.  In the advertisement, Shields lamented that “A SILVER MILK URN, of an oval form, with a lid and spout,” had been stolen from his shop on September 4.  He gave further details to help identify the stolen merchandise.  It “weighed about nine ounces,” was “engraved with a cypher MR,” and had been “made in England.”  Shields offered a reward to anyone who helped him recover the urn, whether intact (three pounds) or “cut to pieces” (four dollars).  At the very least, he wanted the silver back even if the thief had destroyed it in hopes of selling the silver.

What did that have to do with the image that accompanied Shields’s advertisement?  It did not correspond to his description of the stolen urn.  Including it increased the price of running the advertisement since it took up more space.  Some readers may have realized that Shields was a goldsmith who ran his shop “at the Golden Cup and Crown.”  He previously ran an advertisement giving that address in the Pennsylvania Gazette in the fall of 1771.  That advertisement happened to include the same woodcut of a cup and crown that appeared in his advertisement about the stolen milk urn five years later.  Shields had commissioned a woodcut for his exclusive use, one that corresponded to the sign that marked the location of his shop.  He apparently collected the woodcut from the printing office when he discontinued his advertisement in the Pennsylvania Gazette and tucked it away in case he wished to use it again in advertisements in that or any other newspapers.  Although Shields did not mention his shop sign in his notice about the stolen urn, he likely figured that a visual image of any sort (and especially one associated with his business) would draw attention to his advertisement and increase the chances that readers would assist in recovering the milk urn (or the silver).

September 7

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (September 7, 1776).

“I beg leave … to recommend it to our military gentlemen as a book of public utility.”

In an advertisement in the September 7, 1776, edition of the Pennsylvania Evening Post, Robert Aitken, a printer and bookseller, promoted “L’INGENIEUR de CAMPAGNE, or FIELD ENGINEER.  Written in French by the Chevalier de Clairac, and translated by Major Lewis Nicola.”  To make the work more enticing to prospective customers, Aitken supplemented it with “a short Treatise on SEA BATTERIES, shewing their defects, and an attempt to remedy them,” and “an explanation of all the technical terms used in the work.  By the Translator.”  The manual also included helpful illustrations, “forty useful quarto copperplates.”  It was one of many military manuals published and marketed in Philadelphia and other cities during the era of the American Revolution.

Quite conveniently, a letter to Benjamin Towne, the printer of the Pennsylvania Evening Post, signed by “A Well-Wisher to the cause” just happened to appear immediately to the left of Aitken’s advertisement.  The anonymous correspondent explained that during a recent visit to Aitken’s printing office for other business he “took up a book which I found to be the FIELD ENGINEER, just published by him in English.”  Enthralled by those parts that he “dipped into,” the “Well-Wisher to the cause” purchased the book and carefully read it.  Now he felt compelled to declare that “the inhabitants of America are obliged to the translator for furnishing us, in our own language, with instructions so useful to all officers in the species of war we are obliged to wage in defence of our liberties.”  The “Well-wisher to the cause” highlighted the part of the book he considered “particularly applicable to the present exigency and state of things at New-York, as it gives ample instructions for preventing an enemy’s passing a river.”  Following its defeat at the Battle of Long Island near the end of August, the Continental Army retreated from Brooklyn to Manhattan.  Many residents of the city had already fled to the countryside to escape the British invasion and occupation.  Patriots feared what would happen if General George Washington and the Continental Army could not prevent the British from crossing the Hudson River.  The “Well-Wisher to the cause” may have also worried about the prospects of British forces crossing the Delaware River to capture Philadelphia if they could not be stopped in New York.  “I beg leave, by the channel of your paper,” he wrote, “to recommend it,” The Field Engineer, “to our military gentlemen as a book of public utility.”  Whether or not Aitken coordinated with the “Well-Wisher to the cause” (or wrote the recommendation himself), the proximity of the letter to his advertisement reinforced his efforts to sell the book.

August 20

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (August 20, 1776).

“Advertisements omitted this day will have a good place on Thursday.”

The August 20, 1776, edition of the Pennsylvania Evening Post consisted almost entirely of news.  Benjamin Towne, the printer, placed news from London, including an overview of recent events in the House of Commons, on the first page, along with updates from Williamsburg, and Baltimore.  Two advertisements, the only ones in that issue, completed the final column on the first page.  An “ADDRESS of General ROBERDEAU to the Pennsylvania Associators at Amboy” filled the entire second page and spilled over onto the third, “published by order of the Convention of Pennsylvania.”  A copy of the “DECLARATION of RIGHTS passed by the Convention of this state” filled the remainder of that page.  The first column on the last page contained “ADVICES BY THIS DAY’s POST” with reports from Newburyport, Massachusetts; Newport, Rhode Island; and New York.  The final column had recent updates from the “CONVENTION for the STATE of PENNSYLVANIA” and the “COUNCIL of SAFETY” in Philadelphia.

A brief notice from the printer and the colophon completed the issue.  “Advertisements omitted this day,” Towne pledged, “will have a good place on Thursday.  In any other newspaper printed in Philadelphia at the time, advertisements “omitted” in one issue would have been deferred for an entire week unless the printer opted to publish a supplement, postscript, or extraordinary issue.  Towne, however, published the Pennsylvania Evening Post three times a a week, “every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday Evenings.”  That meant advertisers had to wait only two days until their advertisements appeared.  In exchange for that inconvenience, Towne promised a “good place” for them as he balanced his duty to provide subscribers with news (and even his obligation to publish items “by order of the Convention of Pennsylvania) and his responsibility to disseminate notices that advertisers paid to disseminate in his newspapers.  Two days later, advertisements filled two entire pages and a portion of a third, accounting for more than half the space in the August 22 edition.  Towne made good on his promise of publishing those “omitted” earlier in the week.  As he made his decisions about what to include, it may have helped that the “NEW-YORK POST was not arrived when this paper went to press.”

August 10

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (August 10, 1776).

“Hare’s American best bottled PORTER.”

Most goods advertised and sold in eighteenth-century America did not have brand names associated with them.  Patent medicines were the exception.  Consumers were familiar with a variety of patent medicines, so much so that advertisers could mention them by name without giving any further explanation of their use and purpose.  In an advertisement in the August 10, 1776, edition of the Pennsylvania Evening Post, for instance, George Weed informed the public that he stocked “Dr. Bateman’s pectoral drops[,] Turlington’s balsam of life[,] Dr. Anderson’s pills[,] Dr. Hooper’s female pills[, and] Dr. Benjamin Godfrey’s cordial” at his apothecary shop in Philadelphia.

On the same page, Robert Appleby once again advertised “Hare’s American best bottled PORTER.”  Unlike the generic descriptions of the other items in his notice, “OLD MEDEIRA WINE” and “SPRUCE BEER,” Robert Hare’s porter described a particular beer produced by a particular brewer.  When Hare, the son of an English brewer, migrated to Pennsylvania, he became the first brewer to produce porter in the colonies.  He did so at a time that patriotic Americans boycotted imported goods and made a point of supporting “domestic manufactures” and their producers.  Consumers knew Hare’s Best American Draught Porter by name and for many months by the time Appleby ran his advertisement consumers already associated drinking it with support for the American cause.  In a notice in the Pennsylvania Evening Post published the previous November, William Dibley expressed his confidence “that the sturdy friends of American freedom will afford due honor to this new and glorious manufacture.”  A few weeks later, Dibley’s advertisement appeared alongside one from Patrick Meade who promoted Hare’s porter to “the TRUE FRIENDS to LIBERTY” and another from Joseph Price that offered “HARE’s and Co. best DRAUGHT and BOTTLED AMERICAN PORTER” to “all the SONS of AMERICAN LIBERTY.”  Beyond those accolades, Hare’s porter achieved the distinction of becoming one of the dew products other than patent medicines known to consumers by a brand name during the era of the American Revolution.

August 6

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (August 6, 1776).

“No advertisement will be inserted in this paper, if the money be not sent with it.”

Benjamin Towne, the printer of the Pennsylvania Evening Post, published a dozen advertisements in the August 6, 1776, edition of his newspaper.  They appeared at the end of the issue, following “EXTRACTS from the Minutes of the Proceedings of the Convention for the State of Pennsylvania” held in Philadelphia shortly after the Continental Congress declared independence and news updates from Williamsburg, Boston, Providence, Newport, New Haven, and New York.  Immediately above the first advertisement, Towne issued instructions to prospective advertisers: “No advertisement will be inserted in this paper, if the money be not sent with it.”  The printer included three asterisks to call attention to his notice.

Historians of the early American press have long contended that newspaper printers extended generous credit to subscribers but insisted that advertisers had to pay in advance.  Printers, they explain, prioritized their circulation numbers as a means encouraging advertisers to purchase space in their newspapers.  In turn, revenue from advertising more than made up for losses from subscribers who did not pay.  Notices like this one from Towne likely contributed to that narrative.  Other printers sometimes ran similar notices … yet some also ran notices calling on advertisers to make payment, suggesting that they did not require advertisers to submit payment with the copy for their advertisements.  In addition, Towne’s notice indicates his policy for new advertisements that he anticipated receiving at his printing office but did not necessarily reflect the practice he previously adopted.  In an address to readers that ran in the first issue of the Pennsylvania Evening Post, Towne solicited advertisements, stating that they “shall be punctually and conspicuously inserted at the usual Rates,” but he did not specify those rates, nor did he demand payment in advance.  Perhaps Towne found it necessary to institute a new policy – payment in advance – only after too many advertisers neglected to pay for their notices in a timely fashion.

August 1

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

Pennsylvania Evening Post (August 1, 1776).

“The managers hope for public assistance in detecting the villain.”

Reports of burglaries and robberies frequently appeared among the advertisements in early American newspapers, but this notice with a headline that proclaimed, “ROBBERY,” was different than most.  Rather than a house or shop that had been targeted, this time “the Cellar of the Public Manufactory at the corner of Market and Ninth streets” in Philadelphia “was broke open” sometime during the night of July 29, 1776.  The culprits absconded with “two pieces of goods cut out of the looms,” approximately “twenty yards of Cotton, Barragon, or Fustian” and approximately “fifty yards of narrow striped Corded Dimity.”  That was quite a haul, but the managers of the Public Manufactory noted that the fabrics were “rough and unfinished,” making them easy to recognize “if offered for sale, or carried to any of the bleachyards” for processing.

The managers requested “public assistance in detecting the villain” who perpetrated this crime.  They hoped that merchants, shopkeepers, millers, consumers, or anyone else who might spot these stolen textiles would aid them in “detecting the Robber, so that he may be prosecuted to conviction.”  In return, they would receive “FIFTY DOLLARS Reward.”  The size of the reward testified not only to the value of the fabrics but also to patriotic mission of the Public Manufactory.  It had been established to produce textiles that local consumers could purchase instead of imported goods.  The managers believed that the Public Manufactory played a vital role in making “domestic manufactures” that supported the local economy and reduced reliance on imports.  This enterprise played a symbolic as well as practical role in the contest with Great Britain.  The managers lamented that “losses of this kind (by discouraging weavers and manufacturers) may prove a fatal injury to America.”  Less than a month after the Continental Congress declared independence, the managers of the Public Manufactory envisioned high stakes for this “ROBBERY.”  The “villain” did not merely deprive them of several years of unfinished fabric; instead, he demoralized weavers who contributed to the American cause and might have even out the fate of the entire nation in jeopardy.  The managers of the Public Manufactory framed this unfortunate event and the potential reverberations as more than just everyday theft.