Object of the Day: Durham Smoking Tobacco

Click image for more confusion.

The makers of Durham Smoking Tobacco wanted you to know that they were the official smoking tobacco of grotesquely large-nosed men of the 1880s.

So, let’s examine this, if we may.

We have here, in this trade card, a well-dressed ginger fellow with an enormous proboscis. He’s standing on a platform in front of an open cabinet and he’s smoking a pipe. Apparently, he’s also engaged in conversation with his friend. But, his friend’s head and body are blocked by a very large package of Durham Smoking Tobacco complete with a golden bull on the front. Why the tobacco is just hovering there remains a mystery.

Honestly, I truly don’t understand the illustration. It’s very odd, and what’s more confounding is the fact that the caption doesn’t help us.

It reads:
“THAT’S WHERE YOU MAKE YOUR MISTAKE, AND I DO NOT
WONDER AT YOUR TROUBLES,” SAID HIS FRIEND. “NOW THIS IS
THE ONLY TOBACCO THAT A SENSIBLE MAN EVER THINKS OF
SMOKING.” AUGUSTUS TOOK HIS FRIEND’S ADVICE AND HAS 


Has… 

Has what? Has learned the ancient magical levitating arts? Has gotten rhinoplasty? Has had a doctor examine his weird knee? Has noticed his head is as large as his trunk? Has realized his friend is being smothered by a package of tobacco? Has…

Has WHAT? 

We’ll never know. And, that makes me sad.

To Serve and Project: The Elliot “King George III” Tobacco Jar

Tobacco Jar
Staffordshire Porcelain Factory
1780-1800
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Tobacco jars often were modeled as portrait busts.  This earthenware jar with a white, yellow, brown and green glaze is meant to represent King George III.  He looks rather potty, yes?

This was made between 1780 and 1800 in Staffordshire.  So, by then His Majesty was well on his way to Crazy Town.  I wonder if he ever tried to take off the top of his head and root around for tobacco in there.  I kid, of course.  Nice wig, too.  I think that whole Revolution Kerfuffle wasn't a beauty treatment.

Object of the Day, Museum Edition: A Martin-ware Tobacco Jar, 1903

“If Martin-ware [… has] not the transparency of porcelain nor the elaborately and costly ornamentation of Sèvres [it is] pure and honest art work.”

Cosmo Monkhouse, the renowned British art critic described the work of the Martin Brothers' studio in “The Magazine of Art” in 1882 with the above statement. The studio was founded by the allegedly eccentric founder Robert Wallace Martin and his siblings Charles, Walter and Edwin who, together, enjoyed a life of artistic experimentation with the forms of the flora and fauna of the sixteenth-century potter Bernard Palissy.

The brothers' works, known as Martinware, relied on grotesque and peculiar forms which demonstrated  a quirky amalgam of fantasy and imagination—producing a series of anthropomorphic lidded wares, known overall as “tobacco jars.”  

Martinware Bird, 1903
Glazed Pottery on wooden stand.
The Victoria and Albert Museum

Some art historians conjecture that the Brothers Martin were inspired by the traditional English owl-shaped pottery jugs as their wares often took on fantastical fowl forms.  Martin-ware birds are not of any known species—evading classification.  The heads are often made to swivel in odd directions, further adding to their whimsy.

Here, we see an example of a Martinware Tobacco Jar and lid in the form of a bird.  Like its pottery brethren, it features a large head - tapering towards the feet.   It was made in 1903 to be displayed on a wooden stand.  Marked “Martin Bros London & Southall 11-1903,” this jar, like other similar examples is known as a “Wally Bird” and was meant to appeal to a society that was growing to appreciate Japanese-inspired art.

The tobacco jar joins one of its owl brothers.  

Object of the Day: Durham Smoking Tobacco

Click image for more confusion.

The makers of Durham Smoking Tobacco wanted you to know that they were the official smoking tobacco of grotesquely large-nosed men of the 1880s.

So, let’s examine this, if we may.

We have here, in this trade card, a well-dressed ginger fellow with an enormous proboscis. He’s standing on a platform in front of an open cabinet and he’s smoking a pipe. Apparently, he’s also engaged in conversation with his friend. But, his friend’s head and body are blocked by a very large package of Durham Smoking Tobacco complete with a golden bull on the front. Why the tobacco is just hovering there remains a mystery.

Honestly, I truly don’t understand the illustration. It’s very odd, and what’s more confounding is the fact that the caption doesn’t help us.

It reads:

“THAT’S WHERE YOU MAKE YOUR MISTAKE, AND I DO NOT
WONDER AT YOUR TROUBLES,” SAID HIS FRIEND. “NOW THIS IS
THE ONLY TOBACCO THAT A SENSIBLE MAN EVER THINKS OF
SMOKING.” AUGUSTUS TOOK HIS FRIEND’S ADVICE AND HAS 



Has… 

Has what? Has learned the ancient magical levitating arts? Has gotten rhinoplasty? Has had a doctor examine his weird knee? Has noticed his head is as large as his trunk? Has realized his friend is being smothered by a package of tobacco? Has…

Has WHAT? 

We’ll never know. And, that makes me sad.

Print of the Day: Smoking a Parson, 1807

Click image to enlarge
"Smoking a Parson"
London, 1807
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Isaac Cruikshank (1764-1811, relative of Mr. Punch’s pal, George Cruikshank) acted as engraver on this satirical print which was drawn by a man identified as “Woodward” (1755-1809). The print shows a then-shocking flouting of male authority by a woman.

Depicted here, we have a gin-drinking, pipe-smoking woman who counters the criticisms of a minister by speaking her mind. The woman’s proclivities are indicated by the advertisements which Woodward included in the scene—Rich Cordial Gin and Old Tom Tobacco. The print was published in 1807 in London.

Figure of the Day: The Punch Tobacco Box, 1880

Tobacco Box
German, c. 1880
The Victoria & Albert Museum

It makes sense that Punch would adorn a tobacco box. Many smoking-related items featured Mr. Punch. What I find rather queer is the fact that the lid of this German porcelain and enamel tobacco box depicts a child in a pram. I don’t tend to associate children with smoking or tobacco in general. But, maybe that’s just me. Nevertheless, the little girl is a continuation of the theme of cherubic little ladies holding figures of Mr. Punch—symbols of both the angelic and the impish.

This box was made in Pössneck, Germany, ca. 1880 by the manufacturers of Conta and Boehme.  You may recognize that name as the makers of a good many of the Victorian Fairings at which we've looked.  It's entirely possible that this little trinket was a fairgrounds prize, too.  

Object of the Day: A Package for Big Kick Chewing Tobacco

I was rather surprised to find this colorful printed paper pouch/bag amongst my trade cards. It’s rather difficult for me to assign a date of creation to it. It could have been printed anywhere between 1910 and 1930. The design hadn’t changed in decades.

Bags such as this one were produced by the Scotten, Dillon Company to retailers who sold their “Big Kick” chewing tobacco. When a customer made a tobacco purchase, it was scooped into this bag. It’s actually quite a good selling idea.

Clearly, the bag was never used. The brilliant red and blue printing is almost as bright as the day it was made. The front differs from the reverse only by the presence of the “union made” seal and the weight of the tobacco that would be placed in the pouch.

Figure of the Day: The Turtle Tobacco Box, 1880

Tobacco Box/Fairing
German, 1880
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Tobacco and snuffboxes were the perfect excuse for goldsmiths, modelers and jewelers to work together to create strange and interesting compositions.  These boxes often took on fanciful, and sometimes humorous, forms.

Here, from  Pössneck, Germany, and dating to 1880, we have a tobacco box and lid in the form of a naked child riding on the back of a turtle.  Naturally...

The little boy isn't entirely naked, I should note.  He's wearing a colorful crown of feathers and a matching "modesty skirt" as Springfield resident Martin Prince would call it.  Bonus points to you if you get that reference.  

And, in a move that would please our Mr. Punch, he's carrying a cudgel.  I trust he's not going to whack the turtle on his lumpy noggin.

These boxes were marketed to wealthy men, presumably those with a sense of humor.  As odd as this is, it’s also kind of attractive.  I like it, though I can’t imagine that riding naked on a turtle (even with a modesty skirt) would be the most comfortable experience.  I don’t think I’ll try it.  Besides, all of our turtles around here are very small and un-ride-able.  Just ask Bertie.

It was made by a firm called Conta and Boehme.  The firm is best known mostly for making Victorian fairings (little porcelain prizes which one could win at a fair) which also usually took on a humorous form.

The Home Beautiful: The Elliot “King George III” Tobacco Jar

Tobacco Jar
Staffordshire Porcelain Factory
1780-1800
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Tobacco jars often were modeled as portrait busts.  This earthenware jar with a white, yellow, brown and green glaze is meant to represent King George III.  He looks rather potty, yes?

This was made between 1780 and 1800 in Staffordshire.  So, by then His Majesty was well on his way to Crazy Town.  I wonder if he ever tried to take off the top of his head and root around for tobacco in there.  I kid, of course.  Nice wig, too.  I think that whole Revolution Kerfuffle wasn't a beauty treatment.

Unusual Artifacts: A Silver Tobacco Grater, 1762

Silver Pierced Tobacco Grater
1762-1763
The Victoria & Albert Museum

When tobacco was first imported into Europe from the Americas,  it was definitely a luxury commodity, and, curiously one which was thought to have miraculous medicinal properties.  Tobacco-related items usually boasted the finest craftsmanship and materials since they could only by purchased by those wealthy enough for tobacco in the first place.

Here's an example of the sort of luxurious wares associated with tobacco.  We see here a silver container and grater with a hinged lid, decorated with a pierced pattern.  Such a tool would have allowed clumps of tobacco leaves to be grated for chewing, or, more finely, for snuff.  It was made between 1762 and 1763 in London, according to the hallmarks on the reverse.

Object of the Day: Trade Card for Mozart Navy Tobacco

This Victorian trade card which entreats us to "Chew MOZART NAVY TOBACCO" features one of the most attractive illustrations in my collection, and one of the most bizarre, and just plain wrong, descriptions on the reverse.

The front shows a chubby child dressed in Macaroni fashion while another child in a chef's costume makes what appears to be pancakes.  It's framed in a lovely floral border.  Okay, that's odd enough.  But, just read this...

I think, after reading the whole thing, it's meant to be funny, but it's just...wrong.

THE TOBACCO

From which Kauffman & Runge's MOZART is made is grown in conservatories, and the lumps rolled on mahogany tables by thoroughbred Ethiopians in swallow-tail coats and white kid gloves.  When a man takes a chew of this tobacco, he walks on air, dreams that he has a diamond scarf-pin, a sixty-five-dollar suit of clothes on, and just married rich.  It makes the breath sweet, and keeps the teeth white, and will force a moustache on the smoothest lip in five weeks.  It improves and beautifies the complexion, eradicated tans, freckles, and dandruff, and is a sure cure for heart-burn, dyspepsia and rheumatism.  The SINGLE man who chews this tobacco will find the girls doting over him, and the MARRIED man who uses it can get along peaceably with his mother-in-law.  It will fasten the front gate every night and carry in the "NEWS" in the morning; chase the cats off the garden, drive the hens off to water, can "hardly ever" fail to make one feel better all over.  No well-regulated family can properly keep house without it, for the man who chews this tobacco will never cut wood too long for the stove, never swear when he puts up a stove pipe, never step on a lady's train, join a club, or go down to "the post office after supper."

Object of the Day: King George V Tobacco Silk

 

In the early 1900s Britain’s Godfrey Philips Ltd., a major cigarette concern, introduced B.D.V Cigarettes.  The brand was very popular in fashionable society until it was dropped in 1948.

B.D.V stood for “Boyd & Dibrell Virginia”—the U.S. suppliers of the tobacco used in the cigarettes.  According to legend, a member of the Philips Family once claimed that B.D.V. was an abbreviation for  “Benedictus dominus vobiscum" meaning, in latin, “the pipe of peace.”

In addition to “cigarette cards,” B.D.V. employed the marketing scheme of including in their packaging silks and leathers printed with popular images which could be collected.  Like the tobacco silk of Queen Mary that I showed you yesterday (which could, in fact, have been produced by the same company), this example depicts King George V in uniform with his garter stars.  It dates to the time of his coronation—1911.