The World's Fair That Wasn't

The Exposition Internationale Urbaine de Lyon, an unofficial World's Fair, was held in 1914 in Lyon, France. The focus was on urban planning and public health. Ironically, the fair was also held in the most tragic of years, 1914, when Europe and the Eastern Mediterranean exploded in what became World War I.

Included here are images of three non-postal stamps sold as a way to help defray the costs of the fair. Buyers could put them on the envelopes of their letters to show their support.

The Worlds Fairs of the 19th and early 20th centuries seem to have been based in the premise that Europe, in particular, had gone past the era of territorial wars and was in an era of peace and prosperity. Before World War I the perception was that Europe had entered an international era, one in which people could travel from one country to another with ease, taking in the cultural opportunities that grand cities had to offer. What wasn't taken into account, tragically, was the plight of the impoverished workers of those countries who never saw relief in terms of better housing, better nutrition, better working conditions, and higher pay.

The exposition opened on May 1, 1914, obviously with no idea that a major war was about to break out. Peace prevailed for a couple of months until June 28, when members of the Black Hand, a Serbian nationalist group assisted a small group of assassins in carrying out the murders. Gavrilo Princep, a Bosnian Serb, actually fired the fatal shots. After that tensions began to mount in Europe. There had been many rumblings prior to the Sarajevo assassinations, but none of them led to the outbreak of a major war. The assassination is depicted to the left in a print in the Italian newspaper La Domenica del Corriere, July 12, 1914 by Achille Beltrame

It would be naive to say that Europe had been experiencing a golden age of peace in the later 19th century. Localized conflicts and short regional wars had sprung up on a regular basis, the most recent being the Balkan Wars in 1912 and 1913. Most of these conflicts were related to the fallout from the unification of Germany in 1866 and the Franco-Prussian War that ended in 1871 with the overthrow of Emperor Napoleon III. The Austro Hungarian Empire and the Russian Empire expanded their influence into the Balkan Peninsula which became a major focus of smaller conflicts. The Austro Hungarian takeover of Bosnia in 1909 escalated tensions dramatically. 

Peace? It only existed in the minds of those who were not paying attention. Those who focused on cultural accomplishments and ignored repressive colonialism, a massive arms race, and the plight of millions of underpaid worker.

After the assassination the nations of Europe turned their attention toward preparations for war.  The Austrian and German pavilions closed on August 2, 1914. Other nations began closing their pavilions to the extent that by the official closing on November 1 many pavilions had been vacant for some time.

The First World War destroyed any illusion of international peace and opened the twentieth century with a level of violence never seen before in human history.

 

Reed Organ Advertising in the 19th Century

 The explosion in large scale manufacturing in the nineteenth century transformed American society into a consumer culture. In such an environment competition for the patronage of willing consumers dominated the media of the time. I would argue that that hasn’t changed at all in today’s world, in which every square inch and every nanosecond of our consciousness is bombarded by advertising. If anything, it has only gotten worse.

In the later nineteenth century, as earlier in the century, advertisers realized that image was everything, and they produced images that stimulated desires and feelings of fulfillment. Such was the world of the reed organ. The golden age of the reed organ was roughly the 1860’s to the 1890’s. Although instruments were certainly made before and after that time, the economic boom of the Gilded Age, so aptly named by Mark Twain, brought about significant prosperity from the end of the American Civil War in 1865 to the disastrous Panic of 1893. The boom that followed the Civil War created the market for many consumer goods, and the Panic of 1893 doomed many reed organ manufacturers who were already struggling to compete with the rise of the piano as an affordable consumer good.

I’d like to examine in detail eight trading cards from one organ manufacturer, the Estey Organ Company. The company claimed to have started in 1846 although in reality there was a string of short-lived melodeon makers who preceded Jacob Estey’s entrance into the manufacture of reed organs in the 1850’s. Estey became the largest builder of reed organs, later diversifying into pianos and pipe organs to broaden the base as the twentieth century dawned.


The first trade card is also the earliest in my collection, dating from the early to mid 1870’s. It depicts the factory complex of the company. Jacob Estey made the decision to house each department in a separate building after two fires and one flood that destroyed previous buildings. The buildings were sided with slate shingles, which survive to this day.
A very common trope in advertising after the Civil War was the smokestack. Today the image of a smokestack belching black smoke is a negative one, not a positive one. The viewer immediately thinks of depletion of the ozone layer and of climate change. But at that time the smokestack was an image of industry. It meant that the company was productive and busy. Manufacturers of a wide range of goods proudly displayed images of their factories to show that they were modern and efficient, able to turn out products efficiently. In front of the row of factory buildings a broad, flat avenue full of happy consumers gives a feeling of expansiveness and comfortable prosperity. It isn’t reality though. I’ve been to the factory complex many times and I can testify that the road is only a fraction of the width depicted!

The second card is from the mid-1880’s and is the classic Estey trade card. Many other manufacturers of reed organs published similar trade cards depicting cultured, upscale people enjoying the refined ambiance of someone playing a high end reed organ. Dennis Waring unpacks this card in his book Manufacturing the Muse: Estey Organs and Consumer Culture in Victorian America (2002), soon to be republished by the Estey Organ Museum in advance of the Estey Fest in September. This image is full of rich imagery. First, look at the setting. A group of well dressed, prosperous people sit in a large Victorian parlor complete with a painting of St. Cecilia, a portrait of Jacob Estey over the organ, flowers, fancy wallpaper and carpet, and drapery. A woman fans herself as she listens to the intimate concert. A boy and girl stand at the unrealistically large window and gaze fondly at the Estey Organ Works (a view which is impossible in reality) as if the boy is saying to the girl, “when I grow up all this will be mine.”  A gentleman stands behind a woman seated in a plush armchair as a woman, possibly singing, displays her voluptuous figure while listening to the woman playing at the Grand Salon Organ, Estey’s flagship instrument in the late 1870’s to mid 1880’s. One other gentleman stands off to the side as he holds what appears to be a shawl, perhaps belonging to the organist. The Victorian equivalent, perhaps, of "hold my beer"?

The reinforcing of gender roles is transparent. Men stand behind the women as if to guide and protect them. The women in the image exude the Victorian ideal of femininity. The whole scene makes a statement about prosperity. “Would you like to live in such a setting?” the image seems to ask. The Estey Organ Company will help take you there.

The next card is from around the same time as the previous one. In this image two women embrace in loving friendship as if transported in rapture while listening to their friend play another Grand Salon organ. The conservatory to the left contains the requisite tropical plants and on the wall is a large framed view of the Estey factory complex, with bas reliefs presumably of members of the Estey family. As with the previous image this card promises that an Estey organ will bring delight to anyone who hears it being played, and in this case it will enhance friendship among women.


Women figure prominently in advertising in general. With the societal expectation that women maintained the home for the comfort of her children and husband, they had a significant role to play in what added to the ambience of their home and advertising clearly targets them while at the same time reinforcing the stereotype of how women should fulfill that role.


The next card (left) could possibly appeal either to men, with its innocent young woman playing the harp to evoke the feelings one has when listening to good music. It could appear to women as well, possibly, with the childlike innocence of the subject.


The next card may seem a bit bizarre to our eyes but it seems to evoke a feeling of fun and energy. Dating from the 1890’s it depicts a parade of munchkins marching in a band while waving banners that spell out

“Estey.” In the background more imps climb over an Estey piano and organ. Fun perhaps? Hard to say.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 The next card dates from 1897 and shows a group of children playing instruments as the "Estey Orchestral Club." Children were often used in advertising media to give an air of purity and innocence. Of course, these children are all white, as is everyone in these cards. African Americans, in other images, were depicted either as minstrels or dancers. I am not aware that Estey used racist imagery such as this in their advertising, however. The children are playing various instruments. Curiously, the little girl at the Estey organ can't reach the pedals. Well, she's having fun so that's ok.

Advertising cards for many products often did not depict the product being advertised, as with this 1890's Estey trade card showing a young man courting a beautiful young woman in a window. The man is playing a make believe banjo, using a tennis racket without any strings. Such imagery was meant to convey an atmosphere of wholesome fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last card is from the 1890’s and suggests an air of exoticism. A trend in art and literature called “Orientalism” by the author Edouard Said conjure up exotic images of people in the Middle East wearing traditional clothing and doing things such as smoking hashish or playing chess. Said suggested that such imagery intended to keep people in the Muslim world in their place while their culture was appropriated by western artists and consumers. Here, as in many works from the time, the woman (St. Cecelia?) is

dressed in what may be Moroccan dress holding a traditional lyre. She has replaced the previous plump white girl with the harp. The image is beautiful but dated in a way that appropriates imagery from another culture for purposes of marketing.

These cards are not unique in their imagery and the mood that they intended to evoke. They had one purpose and one purpose only, to sell reed organs, doing so by tapping into imagery that reinforced gender roles and promised prosperity and happiness in the home.

The Mouse that Roared

Today I’m thinking about unrecognized breakaway republics. There have been many over the years. Many, if they lasted long enough, have issued postage stamps to give a semblance of legitimacy. Even today it remains a way to do that, at least to feel as though they were establishing legitimacy. A contemporary example is the breakaway Republic of Transnistria, a very small unrecognized region on the border between Moldova and Ukraine. They have issued a variety of postage stamps, one way to bring in revenue.

Many in the Baby Boom generation will remember the film “The Mouse That Roared,” in which the fictional Duchy of Grand Fenwick declares war on the United States, expecting to lose and be rebuilt by the victor and gain legitimacy. In the past breakaway and small republics have done some very interesting things.

I’d like to look at two such republics that are represented in my stamp collection.  Both fit into my collection time frame of pre-1960ish.  These are North Ingria and the Republic of South Moluccas. You’ve never heard of them? Well, here we go.  

In the aftermath of the 1917 Russian Revolutions, the former empire unraveled. In order to sue for peace the Bolsheviks negotiated away large territories including Poland and Ukraine. Finland was never officially negotiated away but they declared independence when nobody was looking. This didn't happen peaceably, though. A civil war was fought in 1918-19 between the Whites, who wanted to be independent of Russia, and the Reds who supported the Bolshevik government. Today Russia and Finland share a long border, the southern part of which crosses the Karelian Peninsula. St. Petersburg, Russia is at the base of this peninsula, just barely into Russia. After the Bolshevik Revolution the country was almost immediately plunged into a bitter civil war that lasted until 1923.

North Ingria stamps, 2nd issue, 1920

At the fringes of the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic (RSFSR) a small region at the border between the now independent Finland and Russia was North Ingria. The region seceded from Russia after the October Revolution and declared independence. From late 1919 to late 1920 the area was ruled by a governing council. One enterprising person in the local government thought it would be a good idea to issue postage stamps. These stamps, which were used as postage, became an immediate hit with collectors at the time. They are still popular today although in the past they have been widely forged. The self-declared independent district was formally absorbed back into Russia in October, 1920 by the Treaty of Tartu between Finland and Russia.

The second republic for today is South Moluccas. It lies in the middle of two larger islands in the archipelago of Indonesia. Moluccas is a group of 150 islands known in the past as the Spice Islands. In the 16th century the Dutch gained control of the islands and colonized what is now Indonesia, gaining fabulous wealth from the sale of spices, most notably cloves and nutmeg. The Moluccas were at the center of the spice trade and a concentrated missionary effort gradually led to a Christian majority in an area that was predominantly Muslim.


During World War II Japan occupied Indonesia, which gained independence form the Netherlands after the war. Soon thereafter President Sukarno came to power as president, ruling until 1967. Sukarno had an autocratic style and formed a government on that basis. The South Moluccas islands, with a Christian majority, declared independence in 1950 and only maintained that independence for a few months. An Indonesian invasion of one of the main islands ended that. Thousands of Christian Moluccans fled to the Netherlands, and a government in exile was formed, which is still based today in the Netherlands. They are a member of the Unrepresented Nations and Peoples Organization (UNPO).

The government in exile issued some postage stamps as a way to gain recognition.  One set of stamps, two of which are shown here, celebrated the Universal Postal Union.

South Moluccas fish stamps

Human nature never changing, an enterprising stamp dealer with strong German/Austrian connections, Henry Stolow, had a large group of stamps printed with the name “REPUBLIC MALUKU SELATAN” and illustrations of fish, animals, birds, and flowers of the region. These appeared on the stamp market in 1955 and became immediately popular because of the bright colors and beautiful illustrations. They were never used as legitimate postage stamps, and qualify as “Cinderella” stamps (ie, they appear to be something they are not).

The largest stamp catalogs do not see them as legitimate stamps and vociferously denounce them as fakes and fantasy stamps. Despite such vocal denouncements they are still popular with collectors because of the beautiful illustrations and the interesting back story.

Taxes! Taxes!

Examples of the 1862 series

 In 1862, the second year of the Civil War, the government decided it needed more revenue to pay for the war effort. A plan for revenue stamps was put together. The revenue would be on documents with legal implications, such as deeds, mortgages, wills, etc. Bank checks, playing cards, and photographs were also to be taxed. A private contractor was hired and the stamps went into use. Each stamp had a portrait of George Washington. As with many taxes, once everyone became accustomed to them they were here to stay.

Higher value stamps from the 1862 series

By 1871 the government became aware of fraud with the use of revenue stamps. They were printed on paper that did not readily absorb ink and enterprising individuals were washing the ink off and re-using stamps. After several trials the government settled on a new design and more absorbent paper.

Large Persian Rug, 1870's

The king of Federal revenue stamps is called the "Large Persian Rug" to distinguish it from the $200 "Small Persian Rug." Very few of these exist. To pay $500 in taxes on an estate would have been very rare but t did happen. 

 To increase revenue the Federal Government levied taxes on items deemed luxuries. Tobacco was taxed, as well as playing cards, matches, and patent medicines. This area of stamp collecting is a world unto itself.

Private die stamps, including playing cards, matches, and patent medicines, had designs that were approved by the government. Manufacturers took advantage of the tax and used their stamps as a form of advertisement. Often they had a picture of the founder of the company, or another image that touted the quality of the product inside.

1860's proprietary tax stamp for matches.

1890's cigarette tax stamps

Beer was taxed by the fraction of a barrel until the 1940’s. These early, large (3” square) beer stamps are popular with collectors 

1930's oleomargarine stamp

1930's potato tax stamp

1940's Federal car stamp

A 1933 tax stamp for fermented fruit juice before Prohibition was repealed!

Documentary stamp from 1898

New York stock transfer stamps from the 1930's

During the Great Depression a variety of products were taxed, represented by the stamps shown here. States levied their own taxes on various transactions such as the sale of stocks. With the onset of World War II such taxes also supported the war effort.

Froggie Went a Courtin'

 I thought I’d write about some family treasures that I have. My brothers and I have items that came from our great grandparents’ home on Linsley Avenue in my hometown, Meriden, Connecticut.

My great grandfather, Samuel Clinton Lewis, was born a few years before the beginning of the Civil War. His father, George Hallam Lewis, volunteered to join the 15th Connecticut Regiment in the summer of 1862.  After the Battle of Fredericksburg he died in a hospital in Washington D.C. in February, 1863, leaving his wife a widow with four children.

Samuel grew up in Meriden, and worked with the William Rogers Company which made silver plated Britannia ware. He was granted patents for the design of casket handles.  For several years in the early 1880’s he worked for a casket maker in Cincinnati, Ohio, moving his family back to Meriden in the mid 1880’s. He established a mill and began the manufacture of furniture and Victorian trim for houses. His mill was near the former site of the Mills Apartments which were demolished several years ago.

Sam Lewis and his wife Mamie raised a large family of seven children including my grandmother, Alice Lewis, my father’s mother. My father remembered his grandparents as having a keen sense of humor.

So, the artifact that I write about today is evidence of that sense of humor. It’s a majolica humidor in the shape of a frog playing a mandolin. The family story is that the family bought it for Sam, filled with tobacco. Apparently he enjoyed the tobacco but also enjoyed the majolica frog so it stayed with them.

The frog isn't very large, about seven inches high. It isn't worth very much since it was broken into pieces a number of years ago. It's valuable to me and my family as a treasured piece, though.

The later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries saw a proliferation of tobacco jars such as this. Many companies in Great Britain and the Continent made them. This particular one may have been made by a company in Austria, what is now the Czech Republic.  There were other figures such as the frog to the right and the bulldog and frog below.

The image of a singing frog appears a lot in Victorian era popular art.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here are two examples. To the left is a German postcard with two frogs singing and dancing. To the right is a French postcard with a frog in female dress singing to her beloved.

In the Victorian era it was common to anthropomorphize animals--that is, to portray them wearing human clothing and engaging in human activities. Greeting cards were often the medium for such images which were almost always humorous.

Frogs in particular were often the subject of such images because of their singing. Although this traditional folk song doesn't specifically refer to singing, it's always a favorite:

Froggy went a courtin’ and he did ride, uh-huh
Froggy went a courtin’ and he did ride, uh-huh
Froggy went a courtin’ and he did ride
With a sword and a pistol by his side, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh.

He rode right up to Miss Mousie’s door, uh-huh
He rode right up to Miss Mousie’s door, uh-huh
He rode right up to Miss Mousie’s door
Gave three loud raps, and a very big roar, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh

He said, “Miss Mouse, will you marry me? uh-huh
He said, “Miss Mouse, will you marry me? uh-huh
He said, “Miss Mouse, will you marry me?
And oh so happy we will be, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh.

 Singing is what frogs are known for. John Burroughs, the American naturalist and author, wrote:

Have you heard the blinking toad
Sing his solo by the river
When April nights are soft and warm,
And spring is all a-quiver?
If there are jewels in his head,
His wits they often muddle,—
His mate full often lays her eggs
Into a drying puddle.

John Burroughs 

Get Your Portrait on a Stamp 1860's Style!

The first friction matches were invented in 1826. by John Walker, an English chemist and apothecary. They quickly caught on in the United States as an easy way to light lamps fueled by whale oil, which were much more reliable and neater than candles. Different chemicals were used to provide a surface that would catch fire when struck along a rough surface.

White phosphorus was commonly used in matches during much of the 19th century but it posed a danger because of a tendency to ignite when exposed to air. The discovery of red phosphorus (which is actually white phosphorus that has degraded) in the 1850's provided an alternative but white phosphorus continued to be used for much of the 19th century.

White phosphorus posed health risks for employees at match factories. In 1888 the London match girls strike raised awareness of the health risks to women working in match factories.

American entrepreneurs, looking to make a profit from the need for matches, invested in the industry and the race was on.

Matches were one of the proprietary products taxed by the Federal government, along with patent medicines, playing cards, and legal documents. Because of the proliferation of match manufacturers the government allowed for proprietary stamps to be designed and produced by manufacturers with the official approval of designs.

In typical grandiose 19th century style manufacturers of matches put their engraved portraits on the proprietary stamps to mimic U.S. postal stamps. The heroic portrait stamps of match manufacturers, posing as if they were U.S. presidents or war heroes, creates a small but colorful subset of U.S. postal history. They took advantage of the tax requirement and turned it into a way to enhance their advertising. Below is a sampling of these stamps.

E. K Smith used Benjamin Franklin's portrait with his own name!