Mark Twain (or Samuel Clemens as he was sans pen name) was about as big a fan of smoking as it’s possible to be. Starting his cigar habit at the startling age of 8, he once said that “If smoking is not allowed in heaven, I shall not go.” He is said to have smoked incessantly, anything from 22 to 40 cigars per day, although he also declared that “I smoke in moderation. Only one cigar at a time.”
On one of his attempts to give up, he wrote,
“I pledged myself to smoke but one cigar a day. I kept the cigar waiting until bedtime, then I had a luxurious time with it. But desire persecuted me every day and all day long. I found myself hunting for larger cigars…within the month my cigar had grown to such proportions that I could have used it as a crutch.”
Which brings to mind the Camberwell Carrot of cigars.
So, this endorsement from Mark Twain for Players Navy Cut tobacco (in pipe form, this time) seems like it could be plausible. And yet….despite the fact that the man was hardly ever pictured not smoking, this didn’t sound quite right to me.
So I did a big of digging and I found that this advert was actually the subject of a threatened lawsuit from Clemens. It seems his private secretary Ralph Ashcroft, mentioned in the advert, arranged this campaign without his knowledge. Clemens wrote to his friend Elizabeth Wallace about this:
“In England Ashcroft committed a forgery in the second degree on me, and sold for £25 my name (and words which I would not have uttered for a hundred times the money.) Sh-! say nothing about it – we hope to catch him and shut him up in a British jail.”
Ashcroft managed the financial affairs for Clemens, cannily trademarking the name “Mark Twain” and setting up the Mark Twain Company. He was married to Isabel Lyons, Clemens’ secretary, but Clemens evidently ended up loathing them both. The spectre of this loathing has recently arose again with the publication of volumes 1-3 of his autobiography. Written in his final years, he decreed that it should not be published until 100 years after his death, and so in 2010 the first volume was released. Volume 3, published in 2015, contained what is known as the ”Ashcroft-Lyon Manuscript”, denouncing both for what he considered to be their treachery. More here, and it’s just spurred me on to get going on his autobiog.
Craven A cork-tipped Virginia cigarettes – not only does their cork tip prevent “wet end”, but “you’ll not know what real cigarette enjoyment is” without them.
“You should smoke them because they’re made specially to prevent sore throats.”
I presume this means that the cork-tipped filter makes them less harsh to smoke than non-tipped cigarettes. But remember, always check with your doctor before you embark on a cigarette-based sore-throat-cure course.
Wow. Well, my What the Doctor ordered post just, very quickly, became the most viewed post on my site ever. It’s all thanks to Stephen McGann retweeting it – he does play a smoking doctor on Call the Midwife, after all, and therefore the doctor-promoted cigarette advert was rather appropriate.
(This was extra brilliant because I’m such a big McGann fan in general.)
So, inspired by the last post, here’s a bit more smoking doctor stuff from the archives.
Of course, it took a while for the generally anti-smoking sentiment to catch on, especially with doctors. Here’s an article from 1922 where a doctor blames “cheap cigarettes” for a woman’s death, on account of the “large amount of paper used in their manufacture”, not the tobacco or anything. The doctor concluded “It was a great pity that women did not take to smoking pipes.”
But it wasn’t all pro-tobacco. “Is the tolerance of the habit shown by many doctors not owing in some measure to their own indulgence in the habit?” asked the Glasgow Herald in 1924.
And even in 1888, this “smokers are stupid” joke was printed:
And apropos of not much apart from the general cigarette atmos, here’s an advert for the smokers in adversity (advertsity?). It was 1941 and not only was the Blitz happening around you, you had to get by with less tobacco than usual. Here’s an advert being all keep calm and carry on about having to do with 20% less tobacco than before, and urging smokers to stick to their pre-war levels. So smoking must have increased considerably during the war. Understandably.
Anyway.
The volume of hits for the Kensitas cigarette advert inspired me to look a bit deeper into the advertising campaign that the brand ran in 1937. My original advert was from The Mirror, overseas edition, and was based on Kensitas’ statistic that 84% of London doctors who smoked preferred a mild cigarette. That is, as opposed to strong cigarettes, not to no cigarettes at all. It seems like a no brainer to be honest, but in 1937 this was obviously a bigger deal.
I had a nose around the British Newspaper Archive for some more of their adverts and found that there had been a quite extensive campaign. There’s a lot of images with stats for different places and there’s also quite an impressive number of stars of stage and screen lending their faces for the cause, not just Stanley Lupino as in my orignal ad.
I first found this one, in The Lancashire Daily Post. The singer and dancer Miss Binnie Hale is the face of this one, stating that 81% of Preston doctors (who smoked anyway) preferred mild cigarettes.
And next I saw this one, also with Binnie Hale, in The Yorkshire Daily Post. Here, um, 81% of Leeds doctors prefer a mild cigarette:
Now, I’m starting to smell 81% of a rat. Bit of a coincidence, innit?
But no, it turns out that it wasn’t 81% of doctors everywhere. It was, ooh, 81½% in Yorkshire as a whole, as George Robey says:
It was 88% in Liverpool, Miss Yvonne Arnaud tells us (Liverpool winning the most sensible doctors in the country competition, there. In a way):
77% of Angus doctors says Jeanne de Casalis:
I’m wondering if someone at Kensitas made a bit of a mix up with some of these ads now, the place names start to mismatch with the local newspapers.
I’m starting to get all a tizzy with the figures already – but now it gets more specific. Mere integers are not enough to express the data at this point.
It’s 87½% of Birmingham doctors says Winfred Shotter:
85¾% of Durham Doctors:
(I hope you’re not getting bored of all this)
83½% Edinburgh doctors says Joseph Hislop:
(But I’ve become transfixed in the face of all these meaningless stats)
86¼% of Manchester doctors says Harry Roy:
It’s 75 and a third% of Belfast doctors says Will Hay (ooh, I’ve heard of him) (Oh, and bad show, Belfast, you have the hardest smoking doctors):
84¾% of Lancashire doctors says the delightful June:
Gearing up for the overall figures now. Getting exciting.
For the whole of England, it’s 84% announces Dame Sybil Thorndike (there’s some class):
For Scotland – 80¾%. according to John Loder:
And….drum roll…..for the entirety of Britain….it’s 83½%, as announced next to Gordon Harker:
Well, there wasn’t much point to all that. I think we have conclusively proved nothing. Except that quite a lot of doctors smoked in 1937.
Surely nothing can go wrong with cigarettes that come recommended by a doctor? I think you can be quietly reassured by Kensitas, the Mild cigarette.
Not that impressive a claim really – 84% of doctors who smoked anyway said they preferred a mild cigarette. Somehow this has been spun to be presented as the healthy option, although only against stronger cigarettes instead, of course.
That’s not a picture of a doctor, by the way. It’s the actor Mr Stanley Lupino, who, well, died of cancer aged 48.
(I mean, it might have had nothing to do with the cigs, but still.)
Looking at The Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, it feels like it would be remiss not to have a look at what it says about smoking. After all, it seems like smoking was the Universal Hobby back in the ’30s.
The chapter on “Keeping Fit” is largely in accordance with current thinking apart from pretty high expectations exercise-wise. I daresay there’s a couple of people out there these days not getting the recommended daily amount – “An hour’s hard singles [tennis] is considered by physiologists to represent the minimum amount of daily exercise for the average man.”
But when it comes to smoking, they’re not quite so strict. Smoking “may do no great harm”, although it’s better to “knock off” the fags if you’re an athlete.
Meanwhile, in The Weekend Book, they’re positively in love with tobacco. It’s a cure-all, the joys of which are detailed in a little poem that was very much removed in later editions of the book: