November 5

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

Dunlap’s Pennsylvania Packet (November 5, 1776).

“THE Work-shop of the subscriber was broke open on Saturday night.”

It was bad luck for John Hallberstat, a leather dresser, that someone broke into his workshop in Philadelphia and stole a variety of goods during the night of Saturday, November 2, 1776.  Losing no time, he arranged for advertisements to appear in the next newspapers published in the city.  That meant Dunlap’s Pennsylvania Packet and the Pennsylvania Evening Post, both printed and distributed on Tuesdays.  The Pennsylvania Gazette and the Pennsylvania Journal would not come out until Wednesday and the Pennsylvania Ledger not until Saturday.  Hallberstat needed to move quickly to increase the chances that newspaper advertisements would help him recover the stolen items.

In notices with nearly identical copy, Hallberstat described the stolen goods: “twenty-four reed or summer deer skins in the hair, one feather bed, blanket and sheet, and three pairs of leather breeches just scowered.”  Most victims of theft or burglary who ran newspaper advertisements called on all readers to assist in identifying the perpetrators and returning the stolen goods.  Hallberstat, however, made a plea directly to those he thought the culprits most likely to approach to sell the items from his workshop.  “As it is likely the skins may be offered for sale to some skinners,” he declared, “they are requested to stop them and the thief.”  Similarly, “Vendue-master” or auctioneers “are requested to give information if the bed and blankets should be offered them for sale.”  Skinners and vendue masters could collude with the thief or thieves to their own advantage.  In case doing the right thing was not sufficient motivation for assisting Hallberstat, he offered “THREE POUNDS REWARD … to any person who shall discover the goods so that the owner may have them again, or for the thief or thieves so that they may be brought to justice.”

Hallberstat was fortunate that his advertisement ran in Dunlap’s Pennsylvania Packet at all on November 5.  It appeared as (almost) the last item at the bottom of the last column on the third page.  That would have been the final type set in place for that issue since printers tended to print the first and fourth pages on one side of the broadsheet first and finished with the second and third pages on the other side.  Only a brief note from the printer followed Hallberstat’s notice: “Advertisements omitted this week for want of room shall be inserted in our next.”  The printer selected some advertisements to exclude.  Given the urgency of Hallberstat’s advertisement, the printer may have made sure to give it a place in the November 5 edition.  That increased the chances that Hallberstat might recover the stolen goods.  Waiting to published the advertisement in the next issue on November 12 made it even less likely that it would yield the result that Hallberstat sought.

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).

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.

March 26

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

Dunlap’s Maryland Gazette (March 26, 1776).

“All Watch and Clock Maker’s please to stop the above mentioned Watch.”

What happened to Alexander Shaw’s watch?  In an advertisement in Dunlap’s Maryland Gazette, he reported that it had been “STOLEN out of the house of James Carson, in Gay-street” in Baltimore on March 12, 1776.  He did not give other details about the circumstances, instead focusing on a description of the “SILVER WATCH.”  It could be identified as “No. 178, the make’s name Daniel Hubert, White Frier’s, London,” though Shaw did not indicate whether those details had been engraved on the watch or appeared on a watch paper that protected the face of the watch when stored.  Other identifying characteristics included: “siler faced, with a pinchbeck chain, and a seal stamped King George’s head.”  Shaw offered a reward of forty shillings to anyone who returned the watch to him.

He also took an opportunity to enlist the aid of watchmakers and clockmakers in recovering his stolen watch.  In a nota bene, he requested that they “stop the above mentioned Watch, if given to be cleaned or offered for sale.”  Artisans and shopkeepers sometimes placed advertisements to alert readers that they “stopped” or confiscated items that they suspected had been stolen and presented to them for repairs, for sale, or to barter.  Thieves, burglars, and shoplifters participated in what Serena Zabin has called an “informal economy” that gave them access to consumer culture in early America, though not everyone who possessed stolen goods had taken them.  Instead, consumers active in the “informal economy” purchased items that had been fenced, sometimes knowingly and sometimes unknowingly.  Shaw seemed less concerned with capturing whoever had stolen his watch than with recovering it, perhaps realizing that anyone who took it to a watchmaker or clockmaker to have it cleaned or to sell it had not necessarily stolen it.  He hoped that the reward would encourage members of that trade to be vigilant in examining watches brought to their shops, increasing the chances of recovering his precious keepsake.  Many newspaper notices promoted goods to consumers, but Shaw used this advertisement to recover an item previously in his possession.

March 22

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

Essex Journal (March 22, 1776).

“STOP THIEF.”

The advertisement had a bold headline: “STOP THIEF.”  Those two words likely attracted the attention of many readers of the March 22, 1776, edition of the Essex Journal.  After all, the headlines for most other advertisements gave the name of the advertiser in a large font, such as “Nicholas Pike,” “Abel Morse,” and “John Sawyer,” or named a product being sold, such as “Garden-Seeds” and “Lemmons by the Box.”  This advertisement reported on a recent burglary: “STOLEN out of the House of the subscriber living in Seabrook last Sunday night the following Articles … A dark brown Coat, a brown Kersey Great Coat, a black velvet J[ac]ket, a striped cotton and linnen Gown with chintz cuffs; two quilted Petticoats, and one single d[itt]o. and a linnen Shift, with sundry other Articles.”

That was quite the haul.  Whoever stole the black velvet jacket and the striped cotton and linen gown was unlikely to wear both items.  They might have kept some of the stolen goods for personal use, but they likely sold or fenced most of them. Burglars, thieves, and shoplifters devised alternate means of participating in consumer culture during the era of the American Revolution.  Reports of their activities frequently appeared as newspaper advertisements alongside other notices that presented all sorts of clothing, textiles, and housewares imported and sold by merchants and shopkeepers.  Another advertisement in the same issue of the Essex Journal had a headline that proclaimed, “Four Dollars Reward.”  In it, Israel Adams described the theft of “Four pair of men’s SHOES; two pair men’s Pumps; six pair women’s Pumps, and two pair boy’s Shoes.”  Both advertisements offered a reward for capturing the culprits and bringing them to justice … and both offered a reward for the return of the stolen goods.  The anonymous advertiser from Seabrook seemingly understood that the goods may have been fenced by the time anyone could “take up said Thief and confine him in any [Jail], so that he may be brought to Justice,” but just in case it was not too late “the subscriber” would double the reward for delivering “the Thief and Goods.”

June 11

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

Connecticut Gazette (June 9, 1775).

“SEIZE the ROGUE!”

Most articles in eighteenth-century newspapers did not have headlines.  Considering that most issues consisted of only four pages and most newspapers were published just once a week, printers did not have the space to include short summaries of the content.  They expected subscribers and others would engage in practices of intensive reading, working their way through the articles, letters, and other “intelligence” that appeared in their newspapers.  Some regular features did have headlines, such as “THOMAS ALLEN’s Marine List” and the “POET’S CORNER” in the Connecticut Gazette, but most articles did not.

Advertisers, on the other hand, sometimes devised headlines for the notices they paid to insert in early American newspapers.  Quite often their names served as the headline.  Such as the case for an advertisement placed by Nathan Bushnell, Jr., in the June 9, 1775, edition of the Connecticut Gazette.  He ran the same advertisement in the New-England Chronicle, deploying the name of the service he provided, “CONSTITUTIONAL POST,” as a secondary headline.  Elsewhere in the Connecticut Gazette, an advertisement intended to raise funds for “Building a Meeting-House, for Public Worship” in Stonington deployed a headline to inform readers that it contained the “Scheme of a LOTTERY” that listed the number of tickets and the available prizes.

John Holbrook of Pomfret intended to attract attention with the headline for his advertisement: “SEIZE the ROGUE!”  Holbrook explained that a “noted thief” had stolen various items from his house during the night of April 28, 1775.  He described “a large silver WATCH with a silver-twist chain, a clarat colour’d coat lately let out at the sides and at the outsides of the sleeves, a jacket near the same colour, both of them lined, … [and] a psalm book with the names of Asa Sharper and Caleb Sharpe in it,” along with other pilfered items.  Holbrook offered a reward to “Whoever brings said villain … with the above articles” or a smaller reward for just “the said thief without the articles.”  Given the amount of time that had passed, there was a good chance that the thief had fenced or sold the stolen items, giving some colonizers greater access to consumer culture through what Serena Zabin has termed an informal economy.  Whatever the fate of the watch, coat, and psalm book, Holbrook used a lively headline to increase the chances that readers would take note of his advertisement.  He did so at a time that editors and others employed in printing offices did not yet craft headlines for most of the news they published.

December 9

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

Connecticut Gazette (December 9, 1774).

“Glass buttons having the word liberty printed in them.”

The headline for David Yeaman’s advertisement in the December 9, 1774, edition of the Connecticut Gazette alerted readers that it would document some sort of misbehavior.  “Seize the Rogue,” it proclaimed.  The rogue “broke open” Yeamans’s house and stole several items on November 28.  They included clothing, a “check’d red and white silk handkerchief,” a razor, and “sundry sorts of provisions.”  The unfortunate advertiser offered a reward to whoever apprehended the thief.

Yeamans’s descriptions of the missing garments revealed his taste and sartorial sensibilities.  The thief took a “snuff coloured strait-bodied coat well lin’d and trimm’d with mohair buttons,” a “scarlet waitcoast well lin’d and trimm’d with yellow gilt buttons” that showed very little wear, a “black double-breasted waistcoat considerably worn,” and a “striped blue and white cotton waistcoat lappell’d and trim’d with glass buttons.”  That last piece of clothing testified to more than Yeamans’s sense of fashion. It also said something about his politics and how he felt about the imperial crisis that had been intensifying for the year since the Boston Tea Party.  Those glass buttons had “the word liberty printed in them.”  Yeamans made a statement every time he wore the striped waistcoat adorned with those buttons.

This advertisement, printed immediately below entries from the “CUSTOM-HOUSE, New-LONDON,” and other shipping news in “THOMAS ALLEN’s MARINE LIST,” provided additional coverage of local news, though selected by an advertiser who paid to have it appear in print rather than by the editor who compiled “Fresh Advices from London!” and reports from Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Hartford.  At first glance, it featured a theft, yet the details about one of the stolen garments prompted readers to think about the contents of the articles and editorials in that issue, including discussion of the Continental Association adopted by the First Continental Congress and the impact of the Boston Port Bill on residents of that city.  Those buttons with “the word liberty printed in them” contributed to discussions about politics when Yeamans wore his waistcoat and when he advertised its theft.

October 2

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

New-York Journal (September 29, 1774).

“Stop THIEF!  Stop THIEF!”

The headline attracted attention: “Stop THIEF!  Stop THIEF!”  John Burrowes of Middletown Point, New Jersey, was the victim of a crime, one that occurred on the night of September 9, 1774.  A “robber or robbers” stole a variety of goods from his store, including “One piece rich black satin,” “Nine or ten cross-bar’d red and white cotton handkerchiefs, fine,” “Eleven pieces coarse [calico], some of them full pieces, others part pieces,” and “Six pair cypher’d stone sleeve buttons, set in silver.”  In addition, they made off with “sundry others not mentioned.”

A few days after the theft, Burrowes dispatched messages to two printing offices in New York, the nearest town with one or more newspapers.  Advertisements featuring identical copy, but very different formats, soon appeared in the New-York Gazette and Weekly Mercury and the New-York Journal.  Despite the differences in their layouts, both proclaimed ““Stop THIEF!  Stop THIEF!”  That suggests that Burrowes had been quite specific in his instructions about the headline even as he left the rest of the design to the discretion of the compositors who set type for the two newspapers.

The shopkeeper realized that the robbers would likely attempt to sell some or all the stolen merchandise rather than keep it for their own use.  By publishing notices, he alerted readers in New York and far beyond to be wary if offered any of the items he listed.  He sought to enlist their help in capturing the culprits and, if possible, recovering the stolen goods.  To that end, he designated a local agent, Henry Remsen, in New York to represent him should the robbers and the goods turn up there, while also directing readers to contact him in Middletown Point if the robbers were apprehended in the area.

Burrowes’s advertisement appeared in the New-York Journal at the same time that John Holt, the printer, published accounts of the Suffolk County Resolves from Massachusetts.  Those measures called for a boycott of goods imported from Britain until Parliament repealed the Boston Port Act and the other Coercive Acts.  Holt ran other news about the imperial crisis under a masthead that included the “UNITE OR DIE” political cartoon that encouraged resistance to the various abuses perpetrated by Parliament.  Whatever else happened to be taking place in terms of current events, however, Burrowes likely considered the contents of his advertisement, a form of local reporting from his small town, among the most important news in the New-York Journal.  Advertisements often served as mechanisms for disseminating news that did not appear elsewhere in colonial newspapers.

March 18

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

Connecticut Gazette (March 18, 1774).

“Make Way! A Probationer for NEW GATE!”

For Matthew Talcott, all was fine on the evening of March 4, 1774, but he woke up to discover a calamity the next morning.  Sometime during the night six silver spoons “marked M R,” “one silver neck buckle, two pair silver knee buckels,” quite a bit of cash, and “some shop goods, uncertain,” had been stolen from his shop in Middletown, Connecticut.  In response, Talcott turned to the public prints, running advertisements in hopes that someone “shall take up the thief, and secure him in some [jail], where he may be brought to justice.”  He also sought to recover the stolen items and money.  In addition to giving a reward, he invested in advertisements in three newspapers published in the colony.

Connecticut Journal (March 18, 1774).

Talcott’s advertisement first appeared in the Connecticut Gazette, published in New London, and the Connecticut Journal and New-Haven Post-Boy on March 11.  In each instance, a headline alerted readers to the contents of the rest of the advertisement.  The Connecticut Journal used “STOLEN” as the headline, while the Connecticut Gazette featured a more playful one that may have attracted even more attention: “Make Way! A Probationer for NEW GATE!”  The colony had recently opened a prison in a copper mine converted for that purpose in East Granby.  Someone in the printing office, rather than Talcott, may have devised the headline.

What suggests that was the case?  The two advertisements featured some variations.  The one in the Connecticut Gazette indicated that the theft took place “out of the Shop” while the Connecticut Journal stated it occurred “OUT of the house” of the unfortunate Talcott.  He likely worked where he resided.  Some of the stolen goods also appeared in slightly different order.  Talcott likely wrote the copy once for one newspaper and then copied it for the other, but was not exact in the process.  The compositor for the Connecticut Journal then used the first word as the headline, a common practice.  The editor or the compositor for the Connecticut Gazette, on the other hand, may have spotted an opportunity for creativity.

Connecticut Courant (March 15, 1774).

Consider that Talcott’s advertisement next ran in the Connecticut Courant, published in Hartford, on March 15.  It featured the same copy, including the snappy headline, that appeared in the Connecticut Gazette.  It also appeared in the margin on the final page, suggesting that the printing office received the advertisement at the last moment.  Type had already been set for the rest of the issue, but the compositor found a way to include Talcott’s notice.  Rather than Talcott submitting his advertisement directly to the Connecticut Courant, he may have made arrangements with the printer of the Connecticut Gazette to instruct his counterpart in Hartford to publish it, marking it in the copy sent as part of an exchange network of printers throughout the colony and the region.

While not conclusive, the circumstances collectively suggest that Talcott wrote the original copy, the Connecticut Gazetteembellished it with a provocative headline, and the Connecticut Courant reprinted it.  Several people played a role in creating the advertisement ultimately distributed to readers throughout the colony.

September 3

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

Essex Gazette (September 3, 1771).

“The Original of this Advertisement, with the Subscribers Names, which are omitted, may be seen at the Printing-Office.”

Colonial printers disseminated information via newspapers, broadsides, pamphlets, and other items produced on their presses, but the printed word was not their only means of communicating with the public.  Through written correspondence or visiting printing offices, colonists gained access to information that did not appear in print.  For instance, newspaper advertisements of all sorts instructed interested parties to “enquire of the printer” for more information.  Enslavers often remained anonymous when they placed advertisements looking to sell those they held in bondage, instead stating that readers should “enquire of the printer” for particulars, but they were not alone.  Purveyors of various commodities also listed printers as intermediaries, as did colonists seeking employment and artisans seeking apprentices.  In addition to “enquire of the printer” advertisements, subscription notices listed printers as local agents collecting orders for books published in other cities.  Sometimes printers had more extensive subscription notices on display in their printing offices compared to what appeared in newspapers.

On other occasions, printers chose to withhold some information, but informed readers that they could learn more in person.  Such was the case in an advertisement that ran in the September 3, 1771, edition of the Essex Gazette.  The notice declared that “the new Work-House in Salem, was broke open” on August 25 and “the Workmen’s Tools stolen and carried away.”  The “Subscribers” who placed the advertisement lamented “such Villainy [that] brings a Scandal upon the Town” and encouraged “all well-disposed Persons [to] do their utmost that Justice may take Place.”  To that end, the “Subscribers” offered a reward “to any Person or Persons, who will discover the Offenders.”  The notice concluded with a note from Samuel Hall, the printer, that stated, “The Original of this Advertisement, with the Subscribers Names, which are omitted, may be seen at the Printing-Office.”  Hall did not indicate whether the original contained more information than appeared in print, other than the names of the “Subscribers” who placed it and offered the reward, but even the omitted names revealed that readers could learn more with a visit to the printing office.  Hall also did not specify why he did not publish the names of the “Subscribers.”  Perhaps he shared his reasons with those who came to examine the original.  Whatever the case, Hall utilized multiple methods in disseminating the information in his possession.  Some of it appeared in print, but certain details he shared with the curious when they visited his printing office.