The Skittish Library

A Policeman’s Advice to Wives, 1912

Post author By Estelle
Post date August 21, 2015
1 Comment on A Policeman’s Advice to Wives, 1912

Sheffield Evening Telegraph, 17th September 1912

When Mrs Quan of St Louis put in a divorce petition against her husband in 1912, the Judge made a rather unusual decision. In what sounds like an idea for a reality show, he appointed a policeman, Patrick J. Egan, “to supervise the domestic affairs of the couple, and to visit their home daily for thirty days.” Mr Egan’s qualifications in this regard apparently being that “I have had a long talk with my wife. She and I have been married sixteen years, and we have never had a quarrel. This one qualification I have brought to this job of peacemaker.”

Mr Egan visited, he supervised and he talked with Mrs Quan “on her attitude towards her husband and his treatment of her”. He then came up with a list of precepts, and it didn’t take him long to do it – at the time of this article, he’d only completed 15 of the designated 30 visits.

This was his advice.

Don’t remonstrate with your husband when he has been drinking. Wait until next morning. Then give him a cup of coffee for his headache. Afterwards lead him into the parlour, put your arms about him and give him a lecture. It will have more weight with him than any number of quarrels.

If he has to drink, let him have it at home.

Avoid mothers-in-law. Don’t let them live with you or interfere in your affairs.

If you must have your own way, do not let your husband know you are trying to boss him. Have your own way by letting him think he is having his.

Dress to suit your husband’s taste and income. Husbands usually don’t like their wives to wear tight dresses. Consult him on these matters.

Don’t be jealous or give your husband cause for jealousy.

When your husband is in a bad humour be in a good humour. It may be difficult but it will pay.

What did the Quans do with this advice? They had it printed, framed and placed in the sitting room. They were reportedly delighted with the “policeman-philosopher” and “presented the saviour of their marital bliss with a handsome token of their gratitude in the form of a gold watch.”

Now. I don’t want to be the pourer of cold water all over this marital bliss, but come on.

For one thing, Mrs Quan was the instigator of the divorce, which rather implies some kind of unreasonable conduct on the part of her husband. And yet, she’s the only one to be talked to, and the only one given advice on how to alter her behaviour. Plus, Mr Egan has only visited 15 times so far and so he came up with his advice pretty quickly. Assuming the list was drawn up after the first week, then this has given the Quans eight whole days to put this advice into action, including alerting the media on their state of bliss, commissioning a printer and framer to display the advice, and going gold watch shopping to boot. Well, I hope it worked out for them, but it seems a bit too soon to declare everything was fixed, don’t you think?

Tags 1912, advice for husbands and wives, advice for wives

1900-1949 Ephemera War

(Grand) Dad’s Army, 1939

I love it when I can link something from one of my old books or pieces of ephemera to some current story. This one is all about Dad’s Army, new and old. You might have seen the trailer for the new film recently. Here it is.

Despite being a history buff, I never much liked Dad’s Army when I first saw it on TV as a teenager. It wasn’t my sort of humour, I thought, although then as now I still had a massive affection for Clive Dunn – or “Grandad” as I always thought of him. Here he is, singing his famous song – and I really can’t believe that at this point, he was a mere 51 years of age:

Watching the series later on though, I appreciated it a lot more. The writing, the performances – it was a class act. My first thought when hearing about the new film was a big “Why?” and it still is, really. But….what a cast! Toby Young, Bill Nighy and Michael Gambon are enough to make me put the film on my must-see list, when it comes out next February.

And this is where my (real) Grandad comes in. I’ve blogged quite a bit about his wartime experiences and ephemera but I haven’t posted this piece up before. It’s the menu and programme for the British Army Public Relations Christmas Party, 1939. As my Grandad was an official driver for Richard Dimbleby, he came into contact with such journalistic-type events. There is no information on where this meal was actually held, and I haven’t been able to find out more online, but I presume it was somewhere near the Maginot Line as that was where Grandad and the British Expeditionary Force were at that time.

The menu is rather impressive, or at least maybe it sounds more impressive than it is, as it’s written in French. I have to say that Pommes Vapeur sounds rather grander than what I believe is actually “Boiled potatoes”. Plum Pudding aux Feux Follets is intriguing. As far as I can tell “feux follets” is French for “Will-o’-the Wisp” or fireflies. So maybe this means plum pudding set alight in the traditional (English) way.

However, the most interesting part to me is the entertainment. “The Crimson Cocoanut” was a little play dramatized for the occasion, and was particularly notable for two facts – firstly, that it was rather appropriately written by the Director of Public Relations at the War Office. This was John Hay Beith, but his pen name was Ian Hay – as well as a soldier, he was a novelist, playwright, essayist and historian, and adapted The 39 Steps, among other things. He wrote the play in 1913 though, not especially for this event.

Secondly, the play was produced by Arnold Ridley, Officier de Champ at this time, and later to be Dad’s Army’s Private Godfrey. His Army post translates as “Conducting Officer”, and it was his job to supervise the journalists visiting the front line in France. He had a hell of a time on the battlefield. He was in the First World War, and sustained dreadful injuries – his left hand was badly damaged in the Battle of the Somme and left virtually useless, he was hit on the head by the butt of a German soldier’s rifle which led to him suffering blackouts over the rest of his life, and he was bayonetted in the groin. Bayonetted in the groin. It wasn’t enough to put him off signing up for the army as the Second World War began, but he was discharged in health grounds in 1940. Pleasingly, he joined the Home Guard for real for the rest of the war.

I found out that the University of Bristol has his showbusiness ephemera collection – the Arnold Ridley archive, although it is not especially accessible at the moment. I found a copy of this menu and programme on there too.

My mum tells me that Grandad used to love watching Dad’s Army. But when she gave me this programme she didn’t realise that a cast member was mentioned on it. She doesn’t remember him mentioning Arnold Ridley as someone he was ever acquainted with, so I wonder if he even knew of this connection.

(As an aside, I have to say that the purveyor of the comic song has an excellently suitable name – Bugler Dipple.)

Tags Arnold Ridley, dad's army, Grandad, Ian Hay, Second World War

1900-1949 Women

Feminists Condemned, 1939

Post author By Estelle
Post date August 13, 2015

I’ve posted before about the frisson of anger-enjoyment, perversely getting a bit of a kick out of things that wind you up. I had it in abundance in this curmudgeonly-in-the-extreme Advice for Wives article from 1895.

But here my feminist hackles are raised, good and proper. It’s a report from “The National Association of Schoolmasters” 1939 conference, where “a resolution opposing the principle of equality of salaries between men and women teachers was passed.” Well, they might have had to even go so far as to change the name of the association.

“It declared the application of equal pay must compel schoolmasters to accept a lower standard.”

The kicker is from Mr H. Meigh, mover of the proposition, who stated that “the feminist movement was a case of the tail wagging the dog. A small politically-minded section of advanced feminists in the teaching profession, who cursed their Maker because He did not allow them to enter the world wearing trousers, were prepared to cast aside the superiority which all true men automatically accorded them in favour of mere equality.”

Isn’t that annoying? All true men apparently consider women to be superior, in an undefined and unapparent way, and so why should women “settle” for equality?

I can’t help but be reminded of Bic’s recent woefully backwards-looking advert released for Women’s Day in South Africa – here. It’s a similarly irritating attempt to maintain the sexist status quo while cack-handedly pretending to compliment or inspire women. If Bic really thought that any one of their shameful statements was in any way progressive I’d be amazed. And never mind “Work like a boss”, how about “Get paid like a boss?”

Women, know your limits.

Tags 1939, Bic, Feminism, sexism, teachers, women

1900-1949

Spanking Machine, 1912

Post author By Estelle
Post date August 10, 2015

Sunderland Daily Echo, 16th October 1903

In the era of corporal punishment and children’s sore bottoms, the search was on for the invention of an effective spanking machine.

American Professor of theoretical mechanics, Duff Andrew, invented one in 1912. The aim was not only to “save time and labour”, but was also an attempt to ensure the punishment fitted the crime. The pain levels could therefore be adjusted in order “to apportion scientifically the proportion of chastisement to the severity of the offence.” It was made of bamboo and aluminium, delivered 35 spanks per minute, and I imagine it looked like something seen in the pages of The Beano.

His wife and kids weren’t so keen on his invention, though. After he tried it out on one of his children, his wife objected and got put in the spanking machine as well for her trouble. Brilliantly, she took him to court for this, where he pleaded guilty. He sounded like a nightmare to live with – his wife complained that “He is always making something new, and will not let me and the children alone.”

Nottingham Evening Post, 19th August 1912

But this wasn’t the first spanking machine invention. There were extra-helpings of sadism in this invention from 1903. Not only is it intended that an older boy could be used to inflict the punishment on a younger boy (a REEEEALLY bad idea), but there is phonographic recording equipment attached to it “to take down the solo executed by the small boy during the entertainment.”

Another 1903 version. The “humiliation” of being placed in the machine was said to be a more effective deterrent to the kids than actually being spanked – a modern version of the village stocks, I suppose.

Edinburgh Evening News, 17th September 1903

A 1905 electronic version here. Nothing could go wrong with this – “…the flow of electricity starts a series of paddles in operation which play upon the anatomy of the victim.”

“One of the dreams of harassed parents has come true” in 1922. Interestingly, it states that as the spanking can now be administered by the turning of a wheel rather than by hand, that the old line traditionally uttered by parents “This hurts me more than it hurts you”, can’t be used anymore. That line wasn’t based on actual hand-hurt, though, was it?

It was also thought to be a useful punishment for prisoners, as seen in the following 1899 article, the earliest I found. And not only prisoners – a lodge (Masonic?) used one as an initiation ritual for a new recruit, making it extra terrifying by adding blank cartridges to the paddles so it exploded as it spanked. His subsequent death is evidently not the main story here – it’s reported almost as an aside at the end of the piece.

Tags 1899, 1903, 1905, 1912, 1922, corporal punishment, spanking machine

1900-1949

Josephine Joseph – the story continues….

Post author By Estelle
Post date July 30, 2015
6 Comments on Josephine Joseph – the story continues….

Lancashire Evening Post, 8th August 1930

I think my favourite post so far on my blog is this one – my bit of history detective work on Josephine Joseph, the Half-Man Half-Woman from the 1932 horror film, Freaks, and which gave me my first presence on Wikipedia to boot.

There was almost no information available on Josephine, including what her name really was. Josephine Joseph was her stage name and is absolutely in line with other Half-Man, Half-Women acts (and, oh yes, there were a number of these). But not only that, it wasn’t even clear whether Josephine was really a woman or a man, although it was thought by many that it was likely that he/she was a man, as such acts usually were. It’s easier for a man to develop muscles on one side, leaving the other side flabby, than it is for a woman to disguise her figure. Finally, one piece of information that Wikipedia did have, was that Josephine was aged 19 in Freaks, which I did find hard to believe.

I made a lucky find though – newspaper reports from 1930 on the appearance of Josephine and her husband George Waas before Blackpool Magistrates on the charge of fraud, relating to their Half-Man Half-Woman stage act in the town. This has proved to be the key to unlocking at least part of the mystery. Ray Mullins has done sterling work on digging up more in his excellent post on Finding Josephine, that I am happy to spread far and wide. He’s cleverly identified Josephine and her husband from ship passenger lists, and found out that the “George Waas” of the newspaper reports is actually “George Wass”, for one thing. Click the link to read more on his amazing detective work.

Incidentally, in my original post, the newspaper article I found says this is “Another Half Man-Half Woman Case”. And I’ve found out why this was. Another similar act was summonsed in Blackpool, just two weeks earlier, with the same policemen investigating. This chap (and it sounds like it was a man this time) was an act called Phil-Phyllis. I think we’re done on the half-man half-woman detective work for now though….

Tags 1930, Freaks, Josephine Joseph, The British Newspaper Archive

1900-1949 Adverts Women

Advice to Husbands – (Dont’) Kill Your Wife, 1932

Post author By Estelle
Post date July 28, 2015

Here’s a 1930s example of what became known as “shockvertising“. It still works as an attention-grabbing technique – it made me gasp when I found it.

It’s a rather strong method of advertising from Brown of Myreslawgreen, an economical clothes shop. You need to read the small print to see what it’s really saying, and I expect everyone did read it – I can’t imagine many people blithely turning the page without investigating further.

“Every husband worthy of the name likes to see his wife and children well-dressed. It is a difficult problem these hard times, and our advice is – don’t KILL YOUR WIFE with worry trying to make ends meet….”

Tags 1932, advert, advice for husbands and wives, advice for wives, Marriage advice

1900-1949 Adverts Women

Women’s Facial Hair Removal, 1914

Post author By Estelle
Post date July 24, 2015

A lovely little advert from 1914 for women’s facial hair removal. The “Ejecthair” system makes big promises – “It not only causes the hairs to instantly vanish, but without pain or harm kills the roots absolutely and forever.”

Ideal for women with the unusual “Laughing Cavalier” facial hair pattern.

Tags 1914, advert, ejecthair, hair removal, women

1900-1949 1950-1999 Adverts Pharmaceuticals Victorian

More Owbridge’s Lung Tonic

Post author By Estelle
Post date July 20, 2015
12 Comments on More Owbridge’s Lung Tonic

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this blog (well, there’s a ton of things I’ve learned, in fact, everyday is a school day here) it’s that there’s an awful lot of people still interested in Owbridge’s Lung Tonic. My last post on the subject here is one of my most popular pages. It’s really a rare day that there’s no hits on that post, which I wasn’t anticipating at all. As far as I was concerned, it was one of those pharmaceuticals lodged firmly in the past, like the mercury-containing Blue Pills of another post.

But Owbridge’s was a medicine that people obviously remember taking and are googling nostalgically for. And so I checked when it last was available, and I was surprised that production only ended in 1971 – no wonder so many people know of it still.

One thing I have to say – the British Medical Association’s “Secret Remedies” book of 1909 that I linked to in my previous post states that an analysis of Owbridge’s shows the medicine to contain ipecacuanha wine, honey and, alarmingly, a quantity of chloroform. But the formula did change again over the years and so the version that people had in the 1960s was (presumably) not the same as that analysed in 1909. Having said that, I haven’t found anything to state what exactly the last incarnation consisted of.

Still, for those Owbridge’s fans still out there (although it is apparently a love-hate kind of memory, I gather), here’s some more vintage adverts I’ve found.

Owbridge’s Lung Tonic. Owbridge’s Lung Tonic. Owbridge’s Lung Tonic.

It sounds like there was some dispute going on here between The Pharmaceutical Society and patent medicines. “No one has the right to attach poison labels” to Owbridge’s, it says. That wouldn’t have helped business.