Part 2 of 3: THE COCONUT
I remember my mom taking me to the bear cage at Buttonwood Zoo when I was a little kid. I could smell the bears long before I could see them … the pungent odors of molting fur and beastly wastes combining in the stagnant August heat … To this day, the overpowering stench hangs in the recesses of my memories. Put bear’s grease in my hair? No way.
But coconut?
Absolutely – that’s a happy smell for most of us. There are tons of coconut scented shampoos and conditioners on the market even today. And to make a fine point about that tropical fruit, we eat coconut ice cream, coconut cream pie, and coconut macaroons; maybe it's just me, but toasted coconut sprinkled over anything turns it into instant FABULOUS!
Joseph Burnett thought coconuts were great as well, even though he lived over 9,000 miles away from where coconut trees grew. Born in 1820, he was a precocious young man, graduating from college at 17 years old as a Doctor of Chemistry. He then went to work for a manufacturing chemist in a Boston apothecary shop. There he could use his education not only to fill doctor’s prescriptions but also to formulate new medicines, toiletries, and other products of his own creation. In less than ten years he was a partner in the firm and forming a strong reputation for excellent products.
In 1846 he made and supplied the first general anesthetic used to knock out a patient before surgery. In 1847 he was the first to produce vanilla extract in the U.S.; it was so popular, he expanded his extract line to over thirty flavors, including lemon, almond, celery, nutmeg, rose, nectarine, and cinnamon (I wonder if he made extract of coconut?). Burnett’s Extracts quickly became a major brand; by 1855 they were being sold all over the eastern half of the continent, fully 15 years before the government began registering trademarks in 1870.
Then came the coconuts
Americans had a long-standing fascination with foreign lands and cultures. Stories that came back from sailors and whalers, missionaries, merchants, and explorers told of strange animals and curious people in distant, exotic locations across the globe. One such account caught Joseph Burnett’s eye; it gave a vivid description of the people of Sumatra, reporting “Their hair is strong, and of a shining black, the improvement of both which qualities it probably owes in great measure to the constant use of Cocoanut Oil.” Burnett’s advertisement repeated only part of the author's sentence, which originally read, “it probably owes in great measure to the early and constant use of coconut oil ... .”
Burnett determined that he would invent a coconut-based hair oil that would produce the same effects – strong and shining – on a wide scale. He had purposely removed the word “early” from his advertising copy because he wanted his customers to feel confident that they would derive the benefits as soon as they started using his coconut oil. Including "early" might sway them not to purchase the hair dressing because they hadn’t been using it all their lives, like the Sumatrans.
His advertising also promised that his formulation had removed “the peculiar odor” and made it “the blandest” preparation for hair ever offered to the public. Interesting that the coconut fragrance so widely enjoyed by us today in our hair products was off-putting to Americans in the mid-nineteenth century – or at least to Joseph Burnett.
Then he made another decision with this product that has caught 21st century bottle collectors by surprise, confusing a whole bunch of them in the process. He named his new coconut-infused hair product “Burnett’s Cocoaine.”
Not Cocaine – Coc-O-aine
Chemically formulating his new hair dressing might have been easier than formulating the product’s name. The “Coco” part of “Cocoaine” was obviously for its principal ingredient – coconut – but the reason for the ending is not as clear; “aine” is the pharmaceutical suffix for a local anesthetic (such as cocaine, lidocaine, novocaine, etc.). Maybe Burnett classified the coconut hair oil as an anesthetic because of its promised benefit of soothing an irritated scalp.
In 1857 Joseph Burnett introduced Burnett’s Cocoaine to America, following the same advertising blitz strategy that he was using successfully with Burnett’s Extracts – whatever success it was going to have would be totally dependent on its association with coconuts because America had not yet heard of the South American drug, cocaine; in fact, a method to extract cocaine powder from the coca plant wouldn’t be accomplished for another two years. Only after this had happened could cocaine be put into medicines and human bodies (unless people just started chewing the leaves).
Joseph Burnett focused his attention on differentiating his new hair oil from its old-world competition, bear’s grease. “The inventors of Cocoaine, knowing that animal oils – Bear’s Grease, Pomades, &c. – induce heat rather than alleviate it, turned their attention and pharmaceutical science towards Vegetable Oils as the basis of a medicament to promote the growth and preserve the beauty of the hair.” Burnett’s promotional copy continued, “Burnett’s Cocoaine is superior to all animal oils,” explaining it was a cooling vegetable oil, while animal oils were heating (19th century consumers reading this could easily imagine that the furry hide of a bear was far hotter than a coconut hanging under its swaying palm leaves). He then explained that coconut oil does not become rancid like animal oils do (that’s not true, but it sounded good). He concluded his pitch with the promise that he had “permanently deodorized” his Cocaine product of that “objectionable” coconut odor. Whatever.
Burnett’s Cocoaine was an immediate success which consequently drew a quick succession of competitors. In 1859 an imitation hair oil made in New York City with a copycat name (“Cocoine”) and bottle shape, was taken to task by the Boston Post: “This is a poor subterfuge, and should not be suffered to be practiced to the injury of the very respectable and responsible
gentlemen who have devoted as much time, care and capital to inventing and making known the genuine article." The knock-off hair oil was also taken to court and the judge found that, “The conclusion is irresistible that [the defendant] was aware of the advertisements for Cocoaine and that he intentionally adopted ‘Cocoine’ as a close imitator of 'Cocoaine,’ and for the purpose of deriving profit from the simulated trade-mark [the name].” A permanent injunction was ordered against the New Yorkers. In 1862 a Chicago druggist began offering their “Cocoaine Soap” for chapped hands, made of “Glycerine Honey and Cocoa Nut Oil.” Not a pretender to Burnett’s hair oil business, but more of a camp follower, trying to cash in on the intensifying interest in Cocoaine as well as cocaine. By this point, medicine makers were starting to sell products containing the actual drug cocaine from the coca plant, like Dr. Tibbles’ Compound Essence of Cocaine in England and America’s Cocaine Toothache Drops.
Cocoaine - a valuable property
For the remainder of the century, there was less care being taken by typesetters (and perhaps the Burnett company and its advertising agency) to correctly identify Burnett’s Cocoaine. In 1870 The Times-Picayune of New Orleans twice incorrectly called the hair dressing Cocaine within the body of the Burnett’s Cocoaine ad; in contrast, an 1880 Australia’s Sydney Morning Herald. listed Bennett’s Cocaine along with the other products of the Burnett line, all of which were properly identified as Burnett’s. As Burnett himself knew from all those who tried to horn in on some of his sales, imitation was the sincerest form of flattery. Perhaps they felt that the occasional “slip” of the “o” from Cocoaine might be worth the confusion, since the drug cocaine was unregulated and addictively popular. The inconsistency and infrequency of the mistakes, however, would suggest they were unintentional mistakes. Burnett’s Cocaine was doing just fine and didn’t need cheap tricks to sell well. As one of their ads in 1883 powerfully stated, “The name “Cocoaine” has become a valuable property.”
Somehow, amid all of his empire building with extracts, toiletries, and Cocoaine, he had also managed to buy and build the large Deerfoot Farm in Southborough, Massachusetts. Deerfoot became one of the earliest dairies to package their milk products in glass bottles. Joseph Burnett also developed a recipe for sausage that made that product popular as well. From vanilla extract to coconut hair dressing to pork sausage, the Boston manufacturing druggist seemed to have the Midas touch; more likely, he was truly a skilled chemist and businessman.
In 1894 Joseph Burnett died at 74 years old as a result of a carriage accident. The Boston Druggist Association and the Massachusetts College of Pharmacy both sent delegations to his funeral as a tribute to his years of service and influence in both groups. His great stone mansion in Southborough, Massachusetts still stands and is being actively preserved.
For more on cocaine, see:
PROMISING CURES
Vol.3: Ashen Complexion
Next week: Part 3 of 3: THE OIL WELL
Updated: 6 days ago
Part 1 of 3: THE BEAR
I shave in the dark.
I don’t need to turn the light on because I know where everything is on my face. My nose and lips and ears haven’t changed position since a razor blade first touched the peach fuzz between them almost a lifetime ago.
Besides, I don’t like turning on the lights because there’s always an old man staring back at me in the mirror and, each time I look at him, he has less and less hair on the top of his head. It’s really scary.
Even when I’m not looking, I know he’s still there. After I got home from the Houston24 bottle show, I suddenly realized that the three promising cures I had purchased there shared one thing in common – they had all promised to grow hair on bald heads. The old man mocked me with a wry grin as I uncomfortably realized my Freudian slip.
I turned off the lights but it didn’t help. The face in the mirror had already cursed me with the legacy of my ancestors: male pattern baldness.
A shiver came over me as a flock of goosebumps landed where hair once grew.
But I understand now it was all meant to be. These three baldness cures I had purchased are ancient artifacts that prove many hair-challenged people just like me have fought the good fight to get their hair back. Though none of them will bring back my hair, their stories will help us feel the hope and hear the moans of balding souls from long ago.
1600s – All Creatures of our God and King
In 1653 the renowned British botanist Nicholas Culpeper thought he had it all figured out. He combined his study of plants with the movements of constellations – botany and astrology – and wrote books on medicine in English instead of Latin so that they could be read by commoners rather than just the elite. His medicines also made sense to them: using parts of plants and animals they could get themselves, they could make their own cures – Nature was their pharmacy.
Among these natural wonders were ingredients that seemed to make up for the patient’s pain or illness; for example, ear pain could be cured using grease rendered from a fox, the elusive woodlands creature recognized for its keen hearing. Similarly, Culpeper attributed the power to grow hair to the hairy bear, “Bear’s Grease staies [stops] the falling off of the hair.”
In 1674 John Josselyn explored the colonies in New England and came to the same conclusion that the fat of some wild animals had curative properties: raccoon and wildcat grease were both excellent for bruises and aches, he wrote, and “Bear’s Grease is very good for aches and cold swellings, the Indians anoint themselves therewith from top to toe, which hardens them against the cold weather.”
Bears were covered with fur (not hair, technically) but they were also big and brutishly strong and therefore became the prime target for their fat to be exploited for gaining strength and growing hair. Fur or hair, you’ve never seen a timid or bald bear.
1700s – Hair Makes the Man
The 18th century was not a good time to be a bear. It was the age of powdered wigs, those expensive status symbols of the elite who could afford them, but the periwigs, or wigs for short, also hid the bald patches that were frequently showing up because their wearers had contracted syphilis. Other toiletries, like perfumery and tooth care products, got attention too, but shopkeepers focused on selling what was in greatest demand – hair products. In 1793, William Caton of Annapolis, Maryland, modestly listed his tooth supplies: “Tooth Brushes, Tooth Powder, of all sorts, and Tooth Picks,” but the rest of his advertisement exploded with items for pampering wigs and real hair:
Hair-Pins, Rollers, Pinching, Craping, Curling and Cold Irons; Powder Knives, Hair Scissors, Hair Ribbon, Powder Baggs, Swandown and Silk Puffs, of all kinds; Powder Boxes, Tortoise Shell, Horn and Ivory Combs; and infallible Pomatum, that will nourish the hair, make it grow thick and long, and preserve it to extreme old age [and] a large quantity of BEAR’s GREASE, that will thicken the hair, and hasten the growth thereby, nourish it at the roots, and prevent it from turning gray.
The best bear’s grease was said to come from brown bears and especially those from Russia (wild and free-range promised stronger, healthier bears, apparently, and therefore more potent, hair-growing, strengthening, beautifying grease). Bear’s grease was also heavily perfumed because a bear’s potent smell (and the stink of its fat that would quickly become rancid) has never been confused with daffodils in the springtime.
“Genuine” was the key promise in its advertising because the availability of bears was quickly outstripped by the surging purchases of their grease; consequently, pig fat was often sold as bear’s grease, even under the promise of “Genuine.” In 1760 James Cox of London promised that the bear’s grease he sold was “the real Thing” (predating the Coca Cola slogan by a few hundred years). In fairness, it was no less real than the horsehair and yak hair wigs adorning the heads of the wealthy – it was all one great big coverup.
The sale of bear’s grease increased even more when an expensive tax on hair powder was imposed in 1795, forcing many to abandon their wigs and work on improving their own hair. As they entered the next century, wigs were slowly abandoned (except in British courtrooms), leaving bear’s grease to become the big hope for a good-looking head of dark, thick, strong hair.
1800s – Barely Bear
In the first quarter of the new century, competition for the sale of bear’s grease became thicker than bear’s hair; proprietors frequently made extravagant promises for their brand of bear’s grease and shopkeepers sometimes fought tooth and claw for balding customers to buy at their establishments. The saga of Mr. Macalpine and Mr. Money (yes, their real names) dramatically illustrated the competition as well as the importance of bear’s grease sales. Both hairdressers had shops on London’s Threadneedle Street; its name made it sound like some narrow, forgotten alley, but it was in the heart of London and one of their neighbors was no less than the Bank of England. In 1824, The Morning Chronicle reported that the “rival friseurs” were summoned to appear in court, each for keeping a live bear at their shop, “which were not sufficiently secured to prevent danger of annoyance to the public.”
Each did so, the article stated, to prove to their customers that their bear’s grease products were “genuine … not scented suet or hog’s lard” or any other adulteration. But the rival hairdressers were not harmless advertisements – they both had real, live, snarling, wild bears in their shops, just a paw swipe away from the gawking public:
Numerous complaints were made to the Lord Mayor of the conduct of these animals, and of their masters, in disturbing the whole street by their noise and contest. The bears attracted multitudes round the doors [of the two hairdresser’s shops], which blocked up the thoroughfare. One of [the bears] could put his leg or arm out to its full extent and seize any [passer-by] with its claws.” One of the bears also filled the area with its “hideous howls … at midnight particularly.”
The wild beasts of the woods had become dangerous attention-getters in a major London thoroughfare, all to promote their allegedly curative body fat for bald heads and thinning hair.
Around 1830, bear’s grease began to be uniformly packaged in the same type of shallow, glazed earthenware pots that were being used for other thick, cream-style toiletries and medicines, like toothpaste, cold cream, shaving cream, and eye ointment. The bear’s grease pot lids were illustrated with a wide assortment of ursine quadrupeds, ranging from cartoonish, almost cuddly versions muzzled and chained into submission (although notably the chain’s end was seldom secured) to fierce beasts being
shot by hunters or attacked by packs of dogs. Some illustrations made it doubtful the artist had ever seen a real bear, but bear’s grease sold very well despite the occasional physiological guesswork.
Reserves of bear’s grease continued to grow thinner than the balding heads that wanted it, so suspicions and accusations of adulteration became rampant. By 1855 it was being claimed that virtually no real bear’s grease was any longer to be found in those promisingly decorated pots, and that some shopkeepers were going through extraordinary lengths to cover up the big lie about their “bear’s grease”:
… ninety-nine of every hundred pots of bear’s grease are obtained exclusively from the pig, and have no connection whatever with the bear. … The fact is, that bear’s grease may be described as lard, plus perfume; that is all. … Every now and then, the carcass of a bear was seen hung up at their shop-doors, and the attention of the spectators drawn to it by enormous placards, gorgeous in all the colours of the rainbow.
But the reader must not be deceived, as were the passers-by, and imagine that the suspended animal was really a bear. No; the hairdresser knows the value of bears too well for that. He therefore keeps a bear-skin on the premises, buys a nice large fat hog, puts it into the bear-skin, advertises – “Another fine bear to be slaughtered at Jones’s tomorrow,” and next day hangs up the pig by his hind legs.
Bear’s grease fell out of popularity in the last quarter of the century as the competition for consumer dollars continued to grow and new types of hair products were presented as improvements on the old-fashioned notion of bear’s grease, which had become widely suspected of being anything but “the real thing.”
Postscript
I came home from the show with my prized bear’s grease pot lid (pictured above) – something I had always wanted to add to my collection of health history antiques – but I have since learned that it is a reproduction – like the grease it promised to contain, even my container is not the real thing. That’s okay though – it’s symbolic of a fascinating, promising cure … and I’m glad it doesn’t have any bear’s grease inside – that’s something I definitely would not want to smell after two hundred years.
For more on bear’s grease, see:
PROMISING CURES,
Vol.1, Prologue: Poking and Prodding
Next week: Part 2 of 3: THE COCONUT
The FOHBC put on an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime event at Houston24
An upcoming issue of the FOHBC (Federation of Historical Bottle Collectors) magazine, Antique Bottles & Glass Collector, will do a very comprehensive review of all the great things that happened at their national bottle expo held in Houston, Texas, earlier this month - in the 48-year history of the FOHBC, this was the FIRST national expo held in Texas! I just want to share with you some of my own observations and highlights. Every corner of this event was defined by colors, shapes, varieities, and rarities - from the bottles and events to the people and the purchases - as I will now demonstrate to you:
Bottle Exhibitions at the Museum
No matter whatever type of bottles you collect, there were priceless beauties there that you would love. The American Antique Glass Masterpieces exhibition took over the breathtaking display hall where Faberge treasures had previously been on exhibit and those bottles had all the color, glitter, and glamour of the hall's previous occupants. The David P. Wilber and Anthony Gugliotti Barber Bottle Collections, the second special bottle exhibit at the Houston Museum of Natural Science, was a real surprise for me because I knew nothing about barber bottles but quickly learned that the range of shape, color, and subject matter is absolutely amazing. Fabulous large format "coffee table" books of these two exhibits are available through the FOHBC website and they are well worth the investment. (Unfortunately, my many photos of these two exhibitions have disappeared from my computer, but these two books more than make up for those losses!)
The Bottle Shows
Even before the official Houston24 at Hotel ZaZa, a first-ever, outdoor tailgating event, called "Glass in the Grass," happened at the home of Ferd and Elizabeth Meyer. From dealers selling out of their trunks to free breakfast tacos and the unparalleled collections of the Meyers that we were allowed to go see, it was an awesome start to the events that started the next day. I had a great time there and hope they do it again every year!
The Houston24 Bottle Expo was filled with great bottles and glass for sale. Dealers from something like 38 states and four foreign countries were set up and selling! I loved hearing Australian and British accents wafting through the air!
I managed to find a bunch of things to buy that filled my need for that next great find! First, I bought the exhibition books mentioned above as well as the cobalt Drake's Plantation Bitters - mine starts out dark cobalt from the lip and neck down to about the first row of shingles, then it thins out to medium blue, then back to cobalt blue on the bottom third of the bottle, plus it has a swirl or two of cobalt here and there. Even though it's a commemorative bottle, it's one of just 250 made so quite limited - and it's my very first figural bitters, so that makes me happy too. There was also a reproduction label provided with each bottle and I couldn't resist putting it onto my new cobalt Drake's Bitters! Talk about a taste of the past!
I also purchased a bottle of Carboline for the Hair with full label, full contents, complete box, and box booklet included - I will show and discuss this find in a future blog post! I then purchased a bunch of advertising trade cards (I have collected these for years) and found some real beauties very reasonably priced. I love this American Eagle Tobacco card and am happy to show it off as an example from the dozen-plus cards I purchased.
The Displays
I got to work with all of the displayers - 17 in all (that's got to be close to the most displays at a National) - and it was a great experience to work with them; what a great bunch of collectors and subject matter experts, willing to go through significant effort and expense to set up displays of their finest items with no other compensation than to educate and entertain all who wanted to come look and learn. Every display was exciting and beautiful, and each was very different from the others, which made it even better.
I was one of the displayers and was honored to be voted to have the "Most Educational" display and also to be the "Best of Show". Pictures of my two awards are shown on the "About" page that you see at the top of this page. For those who were unable to make it to the show, I'm posting images below of the four major sections. It took us 13 1/2 hours to set it up and I promised my family we'll never do that again(!), so these photos will have to be the lasting memory of the effort.
The Seminars
The Houston24 seminars ranged from 17th century witch bottles and pairings of precious glass and minerals to the "Holy Grail" Cobalt of cobalt bottles (the Fish Bitters / Old Homestead Wild Cherry Bitters / and the Sazerac Aromatic Bitters) and digging for bottles in Galveston. I gave the first seminar and I was so gratified by the many, many questions and compliments that were shared with me over the rest of the show. Given all the interest, I have published a blog entry, 'Weaponized Witch Bottles" (see "My Blog" posted on 10 August).
The Auction
I had one more big surprise coming when my hand went up for what turned out to be the winning bid on the very first lot of the auction! Every day since, I have become happier and happier to have been the winning bidder for this beautiful reverse painting on glass Hostetter's Stomach Bitters sign. It's one of six stunning reproductions of the original that has decayed almost completely over the last several decades. I just looked over my shoulder once again while writing this and I just can't believe it's on my wall. It was a great splurge after months of effort to build my display, prepare my seminar, and help the FOHBC recruit all the other seminar presenters and display exhibitors.
