the history of itinerant glassworkers

Tag: New York City

Iron-jawed angels: Circus suffragists and the fight for the vote

On Sunday, March 31, 1912, a group of women gathered in the animal menagerie at Madison Square Garden to inaugurate a new group: Barnum & Bailey’s Circus Women’s Equal Rights Society. These circus suffragists – among them aerialists, equestriennes, strongwomen, and tightrope walkers – had joined the fight for the vote. At the meeting, well-known bareback rider Josephine DeMott Robinson reminded attendees, “You earn salaries. Some of you have property. You have a right to say what shall be done with it. You want to establish clearly in the mind of your husband that you are his equal. You are not above him, but his equal.”1

She and her fellow performers – most of whom were white – were uniquely positioned to spread the message of suffrage as they traveled throughout the United States engaging with audiences.2 They joined petition drives, handed out suffrage literature, and Robinson was even known to ride her horse at rallies.

photograph of Josephine DeMott Robinson riding her horse

Josephine DeMott Robinson at her riding school, showing some of her pupils how to vault a horse while in motion. Source: Narratively (Thomas Y. Crowell Company Publishers)

Suffragists celebrated women circus performers. Movement leader Inez Milholland stated that they “exemplify one phase of the ability of women to earn their own living.” Elizabeth Cook agreed: “There is no class of women who show better that they have a right to vote than the circus women, who twice a day prove that they have the courage and endurance of men.”3 But when it came to supporting the new society, Milholland was a little more hesitant. She had promised to attend the event, but did not show up. Instead, Beatrice Jones from the Woman’s Political Equality Union joined the group as they celebrated by christening a baby giraffe at the menagerie “Miss Suffrage.”

The press got wind of the event and were gleefully condescending in their coverage. Jones, according to a New York Times reporter, was surrounded by “women and girls, modishly and sedately gowned, so that you would never dream it was their daily lot to bound about, blithe and bespangled.” And Miss Suffrage? By the end of the evening, the giraffe – not “previously being consulted” about its new name – “couldn’t abide even the sight of a suffragette.”4 The New York Tribune joked that the lions “moved uneasily about their cages” and the hyenas “grinned and grinned.”5 A writer for the Sacramento Union reported that “Alexander Sebert, husband of Lillian Sebert, a bareback rider, projected himself into the meeting, took his wife and her sister, Jennie Byram, and hustled them out of the menagerie room … Sebert shouted that he didn’t intend to let his wife take part in such nonsense.”6

lithograph of women trapeze artists performing at circus

Female acrobats on trapezes at circus, 1890. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Library of Congress [Public domain])

But women circus performers were not daunted by this commentary. They were used to it: their profession put them in a radical position, and they had to strike a delicate balance between their roles as showwomen and the public’s demand for respectable entertainment. Although they wore leotards and demonstrated acts of strength and power in the ring, performers and promoters portrayed them as proper, domestic women, more concerned about cooking their husbands dinners than their acts. The fact that the majority of women circus performers were white (at least those under the big top) also helped to shape their image as respectable, middle-class citizens.

Rossa Matilda Richter, who performed as Zazel, the first human cannonball, was an expert at the tightrope, trapeze, and high dive. But off the stage, Richter spoke to reporters about her fellow showwomen and their commitment to traditional gender roles, “complete with tales of women commandeering the railroad dining car to bake a cake.”7 Richter stated, “The domestic instinct is very strong among circus women, for the reason that they are deprived of home life a great part of every year.”8 Circuses had strict rules for women performers and emphasized the presence of male family members, which helped assuage any suspicions of the public. However, writes historian Janet M. Davis, “they also unintentionally eclipsed the larger historical significance of the female big top performer as a durable champion of women’s rights.”9 They hid their radical performances behind high-necked dresses and freshly-baked cookies.

Photograph of Zazel the human cannonball

Rossa Matilda Richter, also known as Zazel, the first human cannonball performer when she was 14, 1887. Source: Wikimedia Commons (London Stereoscopic Co.[Public domain])

While Richter put forward her domestic ideals, English acrobat Josephine Mathews advanced a different narrative. She performed as “Evetta, the Lady Clown” and embraced “all of the new woman’s fads,” including bicycling and swinging Indian clubs.” Mathews boldly stated, “I believe that a woman can do anything for a living that a man can do, and I do it just as well as a man.”10 Both Richter and Mathews’ public personas were likely shaped by circus press agents, showing the contradictory ways women in the circus were depicted.

poster of Evetta lady clown

The Strobridge Lithographing Company Barnum & Bailey: Evetta the Only Lady Clown, 1895. Source: Circus Now [Public domain]

Katherine Brumbach, a strongwoman who performed under the name Katie Sandwina, was at Madison Square Garden as an inaugural member of the Barnum & Bailey’s Circus Women’s Equal Rights Society. At five feet nine inches tall and 210 pounds with a muscular frame, she did not fit the physical standards for feminine beauty at the time. But doctors declared her the “perfect female specimen” and others described her as “beautiful and feminine.”11 She earned up to $1,500 a week, which amounts to roughly $40,000 in today’s money. As part of her routine, she regularly lifted her husband, Max Heymann, above her head. Brumbach’s appearance, abilities, and the fact that she earned a wage were at odds with the ideal woman.

photograph of circus strongwoman Katie Sandwina holding three men in the air

Katie Sandwina, “The Lady Hercules”. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Bain News Service [Public domain])

Reporter Marguerite Martyn emphasized Brumbach’s divergent qualities in a 1911 article for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, writing, “At the moment she was twirling her husband about in dizzy circles above her head … Carelessly, laughingly, she tosses her husband about as though he were not flesh and bone, but merely an effigy of inflated rubber. And he is no insignificant husband, either.” No “normal” woman would be able to lift and twirl her husband, especially with such ease. (Although some might like to, including the woman Martyn overheard exclaiming, “Gee! Wouldn’t I love to be able to bat a man around like that!”)12

In an accompanying illustration, Brumbach appears as large as a giant, holding the very properly-dressed and diminutive Martyn in one hand while preening for the crowd in a form-fitting leotard. In the next panel she has returned to more normal womanly activities, standing over a stove cooking dinner for her husband and son. “There are enough duties in her own home for any woman if she would make her family healthy and strong and wise,” Brumbach told Martyn. “I think I should be content to devote all my strength to my household.”13

black and white line drawing of Katie Sandwina

Imaginative sketch by Marguerite Martyn of strongwoman Katie Sandwina, 1911. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Marguerite Martyn [Public domain])

Whatever her feelings about housework and home life (or those she expressed as a part of her public persona), Brumbach was an eager participant in the fight for the vote. She became the vice president of the Barnum & Bailey’s Circus Women’s Equal Rights Society, joining Robinson, equestrienne May Wirth, wire-walker Victoria Codona, bareback rider Victoria Davenport, and many others in committing herself to the cause.

While it is unclear how long the society lasted or how much of an impact their actions had on the suffrage movement, Robinson, Brumbach, and their fellow performers arguably made their most convincing case under the big top. Their costumes, skills, and ability to outearn many male circus performers proved to those who watched their shows that women were capable of being more than just angels at home; they were iron-jawed Amazons worthy of the vote.

A version of this post was originally published on the Re/Visionist on December 16, 2019.


Stepping into the spotlight: Women itinerant glassworkers

The orphans from the Home of the Friendless filed into the Metropolitan Rink in orderly rows, staring at the wonders displayed before them. Glass sparkled from every surface, shaped like ships and birds and little men and women. A steam engine made of colorful glass spun and whirred next to a model of a derrick bobbing for non-existent oil. In the center of it all stood Madam Nora and her troupe of itinerant glassworkers, spinning, twisting, and blowing glass into all sorts of marvelous shapes. They were there to show the children all the wonderful things that could be made from glass, and to give each child a toy to treasure long after the show was over.

To thank the glassworkers for their gifts, the orphans sang them a song. It was the perfect end to the troupe’s two-week stay in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, in March 1887. More importantly, it garnered Nora and her troupe a slew of free publicity and praise, as well as an open invitation to come back again. It paid to be a marketing-savvy woman in show business. 1

sepia photograph of itinerant glassworkers

Mrs. and Mr. Frank. A. Owen. Glass exhibition featuring spinning wheel and glass steam engine, 1904? Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, Corning, NY, CMGL 131372.

Itinerant glassworkers toured cities and towns entertaining and educating audiences from the 17th century through 20th century. They demonstrated glassmaking, blowing glass bubbles, spinning glass thread, and shaping flowers, baskets, and figurines. They created intricate models like skeletons and steam engines and covered tables with trinkets for sale. The trade was dominated by men, but there were quite a few women who performed too, including some of the most prominent and popular itinerant glassworkers of the 19th and early 20th century.

By stepping outside of the home and entering the public sphere, these performers transgressed the standards set for women. They traveled across countries and continents, demonstrating glassmaking for royalty, government officials, and members of the public. They made their own living, and some of them even counted their male family members as employees. Women like Madam Nora and Madam J. Reith ran their own troupes and became popular performers. Details about their private lives are few and far between, but as public figures they were breaking down ideas of what women could and should be at that time.

Mrs. Johnston

The earliest-known woman itinerant glassworker was a Mrs. Johnston or Johnson, who was active in the mid-18th century. In December 1740, she performed at the Robin Hood tavern in Dublin, Ireland, making “curiosities such as, men, women, birds, beasts, swords, scabbards, and ships” out of glass. She also used a wheel to spin glass thread, as much as “ten thousand yards of glass in half an hour.” 2 A few years later she traveled north to demonstrate in Edinburgh, Scotland. Here she won herself an admirer who was so impressed by her performance they composed a poem in her honor. 3

Signora Murch

More women followed in Johnston’s footsteps, often performing alongside their spouses or families. Signora Murch made glass with her husband in Devonport, England, in 1825. The two demonstrated their lampworking skills, “Modelling, Blowing, and Spinning Glass, of various colours.” They offered to make the “Likeness of any favorite DOG” in glass and teach women the “Art of Flower Making.” The Murches made many items for sale, including “Glass Feathers, Pens, Baskets . . . and other Curiosities too numerous to mention.” 4

Nora Allen

Nora Allen (a.k.a. Madam Nora), the performer whose troupe put on a show for the orphans of the Home of the Friendless, was one of the most popular American itinerant glassworkers of the 19th century. Her troupe – Madam Nora’s Original Troupe of Glass Blowers, Workers, and Spinners – included her second husband, her son, and her daughter-in-law, Adalorra Allen. They toured the East Coast and the Midwest in the 1870s-1890s, spending most of their time in New York and Pennsylvania. Her name was listed at the head of every advertisement, and her portrait was featured on broadsides and a newspaper published by the troupe.

Illustration of Nora Allen sitting behind a table full of lampworked plants and animals placed under bell jars. She is holding a small lampworked ship.

Detail of Madame Nora’s Original Troupe of Glassblowers, 1876? Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 132079.

By demonstrating for the orphans, Nora was performing “respectable” womanhood. Many women performers of the late 19th and early 20th century did the same, or were marketed by their managers as respectable women. They dressed conservatively, spoke about how much they loved to cook dinner for their husbands, and showed their interest in traditionally feminine pursuits like knitting and sewing. They did so to avoid public censure and to continue making a living as performers. Because their profession put them in the public eye, they could easily be labeled as disreputable and their acts as inappropriate for women and children to attend. So, while Nora may have truly wanted to give the orphans a fun day out, her actions also helped prove to locals that hers was a respectable show proper for all audiences to attend.

The Howells

During the first half of the 20th century there were several well-known families of lampworkers, including the Howell family. All of the women in the family demonstrated glassmaking: matriarch Ethel Maude Howell, daughters Grace Howell and Nona Deakin, and daughters-in-law Marie Howell and Verna Howell. Grace in particular found success demonstrating at festivals, for scouting troops, and making appearances on TV variety shows. She was perhaps best known for dressing up as Mrs. Santa Claus each December and demonstrating lampworking at the Manhattan Savings Bank in New York City during the 1960s.

A black and white photograph of a family of lampworkers in a booth. Two young women stand in front of the booth at either side. Seated behind the booth are, from left to right, a woman, a man, and a young man. The booth and shelves behind the booth are covered in pieces of glass, including items such as stags, ships, vases, and bunches of grapes.

Nona, Ethel, and Grace Howell are pictured here alongside their male relatives. Howell Family of Chelmsford, 1937-1945. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 151522.

These are only a few of the many women itinerant glassworkers who performed for crowds. They, alongside circus performers, actresses, lecturers, singers, vaudeville stars, and others working in the public eye proved that women had a right to be in that space. Each time they appeared in front of an audience they broke the boundaries, putting themselves in the spotlight instead of staying at home.

A version of this post was originally published on the Re/Visionist on December 16, 2019.


The case of the glass eye smuggler

And now for something completely different! Context posts are related to itinerant glassworkers in some – often tangential – way. Like a story about glass eye smuggling, a profile of a circus performer, or a post about the 19th-century roller rink craze.

In October 1911, United States customs agents arrested Bruno Schulze, a rather ordinary-looking business man, for smuggling 15,000 glass prosthetic eyes into the country. Over the next 12 months, the bizarre case of Schulze’s smuggling empire unfolded before a fascinated public.

Why would Schulze illegally import glass eyes? Lampworkers have been using glass to create prosthetic eyes since the 16th century. The material is durable, relatively comfortable, and, when shaped by an expert (called an ocularist), the resulting prosthetic is very realistic.1 German ocularists developed a special formula for glass that produced high-quality products, and their skills in making eyes were unmatched. So while ocularists created prosthetics in the United States, German-made eyes were more desirable. Schulze wanted to sell the best products, but wasn’t interested in paying the 60% duty charged by the U.S. government.2 So he hatched a plan to secretly bring the eyes into the country and spent more than a decade profiting from his scheme. Until customs agents caught on . . .

The “king” of glass eye smugglers

Black and white photo of Bruno “von Schoenewitz" and his signature

Bruno “von Schoenewitz,” 1909 and 1915 US passport applications. Source: Ancestry.com.

Name: Bruno C. L. Schulze
Alias: Baron von Schoenewitz (or the longer “Bruno Von Schoenowitz Freiherr Von Ungarswerth und Adlersloewen“)
Age: 43
Height: 5’7”
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blond
Crime: Smuggling German-made glass eyes into the United States

Before the arrest

Customs officials had tracked Schulze for months, trying to pin him down. He’d been importing glass eyes for more than a decade, supplying ocularists around the United States. Some said he had a monopoly on the trade. Schulze was suspected of evading the 60% duty charged on foreign-made glass eyes. By doing so, he undersold other dealers and put many small firms out of business. Officials had finally gathered enough evidence to arrest him, thanks to a report from special Treasury agents who tailed Schulze in Europe while he bought 15,000 new glass eyes to sell on the American market. All that was left to do was find him . . .

Shallow box filled with glass prosthetic eyes

107 Glass Eyes with Box, Leopold Blaschka, possibly 1850-1887. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 93.3.73.

October 30, 1911

Bruno Schulze was arrested as “Baron von Schoenewitz” upon his arrival in New York City on the steamship New Amsterdam of the Holland-American line. He was charged with smuggling 15,000 glass eyes into the United States.

November 3, 1911

newspaper clipping

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 5, 1911.

Customs agents raided Schulze’s Hoboken, N.J., “factory” (a front for his smuggling business) and found 14,000 glass eyes, foreign bills of sale, and other paperwork they could use to prove his guilt.3 Philip Stroh, a local printer, was arrested on a charge of conspiracy. He was suspected of being Schulze’s fence (or middleman). Agents arrived at his office too late to seize the documents they were looking for, instead finding the “office stove burning brightly with papers.”

November 4, 1911

Schulze and Stroh were both released on $5,000 cash bails.4

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, November 5, 1911.

November 5, 1911

New York and Washington, D.C., newspapers picked up the story, calling Schulze the “king” of glass eye smugglers. They described him as a “Handsome and Distinguished Looking” gentleman with a high forehead; blond, curly hair; mustache, and “superconfident eyes of blue.”5 He was not what came to mind when they thought of a smuggler. Customs agents had a different opinion. They told the New York Sun that Schulze had been in trouble with them before, and described him as having a “defiant air and bulldozing and unusually egotistical manner.”

November 18, 1911

The National Glass Budget wrote that Schulze was awaiting trial before United States Commissioner Edward Russ at Hoboken. Agents reported that Schulze used employees of German steamers to secretly transport the eyes on and off the ships.6

Detail of Preis-Liste über Emaille-Augen mit schwarzer Pupille, L. W. Schaufuss, 1866. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 54006.

November 30, 1911

The story of Schulze’s arrest and the raid was reported around the nation. A reporter for the St. Paul Journal joked: “with all his eyes [Schulze] couldn’t elude the vigilance of the customs sleuths.”

December 3, 1911

newspaper clipping

Trenton (NJ) Evening Times, December 5, 1911.

Newspapers reported that customs special agent George P. Locke seized 600 glass eyes from the offices of St. Paul, M.N., optician W. H. Kindy.7 Kindy was not arrested, having purchased the eyes from Schulze without knowing of his criminal actions. Agents now estimated that Schulze smuggled 100,000 eyes into the country over the past 11 years, a $700,000 value. That meant Schulze owed the U.S. government about $420,000 in duties (roughly $10.5 million in today’s dollars).

January 5, 1912

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, January 5, 1912.

Schulze’s problems were compounded when a customs inspector arrested him again, this time for importing glass animal eyes for less than half of their true value. Schulze’s bail was set at $10,000, which he was unable to pay. He was transported to the Tombs.8

February 17, 1912

Schulze was convicted on two counts for smuggling the shipment of 15,000 eyes into the United States. Prosecutor Mark P. Anderson believed Schulze would “get about all that the law allows.” The maximum sentence was four years with a fine of $10,000. Schulze’s associate, printer Philip Stroh, was reported to have supplied Schulze with “letterheads of a fictitious German manufacturer,” which he then used to get “false consular invoices” that undervalued the imported eyes.9

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, February 19, 1912.

May 8, 1912

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, May 9, 1912.

13,961 of the glass eyes seized in the raids were sold at a public auction in the Jersey City post office. According to the official announcement, only one eye in the lot was damaged. The Sun reported that the eyes “were packed in crates like strictly fresh eggs.”10 Two bidders split the lot, paying about 24 cents apiece. Buried at the end of the article was the news that Schulze was somehow able to escape and was at large.

June 4, 1912

The United States District Attorney’s office in Chicago filed United States vs. 2,659 glass eyes against the Geneva Optical Company for knowingly purchasing smuggled eyes from Schulze. The value of the glass eyes was set at $569. If the company could not successfully defend themselves, the eyes would be sold at public auction by the United States Marshal.

box with components showing how glass prosthetic eyes are made

Case of Glass Eyes, Tamworth Associates and F. and S. Danz, 1929-1940. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 52.4.58.

October 4, 1912

newspaper clipping

The Montgomery (AL) Times, October 4, 1912.

Newspapers reported that the judge in the United States vs. 2,659 glass eyes case ordered the United States Marshals to auction off the eyes at a public sale.11

October 16, 1912

Bidder J. W. Sturtevant picked up all 2,659 glass eyes unopposed at the public auction. He paid the bargain price of $455. The Inter Ocean added some color, describing the eyes as “perfect blues, browns, grays, and blacks, and others with a blend of colors that never fail to attract.” From United States Marshal chief deputy John P. Wolf: “Are they not beautiful?”12

newspaper clipping

The Chicago Inter Ocean, October 17, 1912.

The end?

It is unclear what happened to Schulze, or whether he continued his criminal activities. In 1915, he used his alias to apply for a passport. His residence was listed as Philadelphia, P.A., and his occupation as merchant. After that, the trail dries up. Schulze/Schoenowitz fades from view.

glass prosthetic eye

Glass Eye, Leopold Blaschka, possibly 1850-1887. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 93.3.73-24


So what do prosthetic eyes have to do with itinerant glassworkers? Several early glassworkers included glass eyes in their list of products. One such artisan not only made eyes of such quality “that they cannot be discerned from the Natural Eyes,” but also “he teacheth how [customers] may fix them in their Heads themselves, to the great Satisfaction of all persons that make use of them.”13 Spectacular!


“Only Mrs. during the month of December”: Grace Howell’s holiday glass gig

Those walking past the Manhattan Savings Bank in December 1961 were in for a treat. Peeking in the windows, passerby were treated to a sumptuous display of Christmas decorations, a singing Santa Claus and his elves, carolers, an ice rink complete with four ice skaters, and Mrs. Santa Claus making glass.

That’s right, Mrs. Claus – otherwise known as Grace Howell – “spends her days [at the bank] blowing colorful baubles and Christmas ornaments.”  According to a profile in her hometown newspaper, The Scotch Plains Times, she is equally “adept at blowing the molten globs of glass into airy vases, birds, flowers, jewelry, or an intricate replica of a sailing ship.”1

black and white photo of Grace Howell, dressed as Mrs. Santa Claus, blowing glass for onlookers

Wurts Bros. 45th Street and Vanderbilt Avenue. Manhattan Savings Bank, Mrs. Santa Claus, glass blower. Source: Museum of the City of New York. X2010.7.1.10211

The Howell family of itinerant glassworkers

Grace Howell was the eldest child of Robert M. Howell and Ethel Maude Howell, two itinerant glassworkers who traveled the country demonstrating to the public. Grace’s parents taught her to lampwork as early as the age of five, and after years of practice she joined their demonstrations around the age of twelve. Her siblings, Robert Jr., Nona, and Leigh, followed in her footsteps, and by the 1930s the Howells demonstrated together as a family act. They were frequently on the road, living in a housecar with a lampworking studio attached. In the off-season they rented or purchased a home and made glass for sale.2

A black and white photograph of a family of lampworkers in a booth. Two young women stand in front of the booth at either side. Seated behind the booth are, from left to right, a woman, a man, and a young man. The booth and shelves behind the booth are covered in pieces of glass, including items such as stags, ships, vases, and bunches of grapes.

Howell Family of Chelmsford, 1937-1945. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 151522.

Between performances Grace Howell completed high school, then took a break from the family business to work for a mail-order house company.3 She later became the family’s business agent, booking performances across the country.

Going solo

By 1953, and possibly earlier, Howell was demonstrating on her own, up and down the East Coast. She performed for scout troops, day camps, schools, and PTAs. “I don’t believe there is a major highway in the country, unless it was built in the last four years, which I haven’t traveled,” she told a reporter.4 She made regular appearances at fairs, craft shows, festivals, and banks. Howell worked at New Jersey-area attractions like the Gingerbread Castle and the Cannon Ball House, and appeared on television variety shows (including those of Johnny Carson and Dave Garroway). Her most recognizable appearance, however, may have been as a lampworking Mrs. Santa Claus in the window of the Manhattan Savings Bank.

Howell spent at least a decade of Decembers in New York City, demonstrating her skills to fascinated crowds. Newspaper reporter Hannah Torain wrote, “Her excellence in glass blowing is complemented by her lively wit and warmth reflected on the faces of her onlookers.” She dressed as Mrs. Claus, from the fur-trimmed hat to a pair of rosy cheeks. She didn’t need makeup for the latter either: the heat of her lampworking torch helped with that. “That kind of heat will change the color of anything, even your glassblower,” Howell quipped. “I wear a perpetual sunburn.”5

black and white newspaper photo of Grace Howell, dressed as Mrs. Claus, showing some of her glass creations

Grace Howell as Mrs. Santa Claus, 1963. Source: The Joint Digital Archives of Fanwood & Scotch Plains

Reporters who wrote about Howell often commented on her humor, and it comes through in their articles. To one writer she joked, “[I’m] only Mrs. in the month of December.”6


 

Following the trail of Lawrence Finn

handbill describing Finn's show

Exhibition of Fancy Glass Working and Spinning United States Hotel, Private Entrance : Mr. Finn. Augusta, Georgia: 1840-1843. CMGL 164968.

Lawrence Finn never stayed in one place for too long. Like many itinerant glassworkers, he was always on the move, traveling across the country to find new audiences. We don’t know much about his life, but let’s take the few clues we have and see if we can find Finn.

Where in the world is Lawrence Finn?

Tracking the path of someone who lived almost 200 years ago can be tricky. Today some people leave a minute-by-minute trail of their lives, but a traveling demonstrator like Lawrence Finn left few lasting records in his wake. Luckily, the job that kept Finn on the road also gives us an advantage when looking for him. When he set up shop in a new location he needed to attract customers, and Finn did so by advertising in the local newspapers and distributing handbills and broadsides. Sometimes the same newspapers would review his show. This paper trail gives us a fairly accurate idea of his travels.

Trail of evidence

Finn was British, and based on advertisements and historical data we can connect him to another Lawrence Finn, likely his father or uncle. This older Finn performed in London, England, before and during the time the younger Finn traveled around the United States. Therefore when both are in the United Kingdom, it can be difficult to determine which Finn was responsible for certain advertisements.

handbill describing one of the Finn's London shows

Finn’s Fancy Glass-Working Exhibition. London: 1815. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 112199.

Based on passenger logs and newspaper advertisements, we know the younger Finn likely arrived in New York, New York, from London in October 1827 and rented rooms at 202 Broadway. He opened his exhibition there on Monday, November 12, 1827. At the time, he was perhaps the second itinerant glassworker to perform in the United States.1

newspaper ad

This is the first advertisement Finn placed in the newspaper upon arriving in New York City. Source: New York Historic Newspapers

This first show featured Finn exhibiting his “most curious and pleasing experiments of Fancy Glass Working, Spinning, and Blowing,” and making “articles of the most fanciful description,” including “ships, figures, quadrupeds, birds, flower vases, &c. &c. &c.”2 He worked from 11am to 3pm, and again between 6pm and 10pm. Potential audience members could buy tickets for 25 cents ($6.40 in today’s dollars); children were half price. Finn especially encouraged “heads of families and guardians” to attend his demonstrations.

Other itinerant glassworkers often visited smaller cities and towns, but, based on the surviving advertisements, Finn’s strategy was to stay in large cities near tourist destinations. His New York address, 202 Broadway, was located across the street from St. Paul’s Chapel and down the street from New York City Hall,  Peale’s Museum, and Scudder’s American Museum (later P. T. Barnum’s American Museum).3

At the beginning of 1829, Finn closed his exhibition at 202 Broadway and spent the next few months demonstrating in Washington, D.C., and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. In D.C., he was located near the National Mall on Pennsylvania Avenue — close to where the FBI and Department of Justice buildings are today. He extended his stay in the city due to bad weather, but eventually traveled to Philadelphia, where he set up his show in the Masonic Hall. There, a local newspaper praised Finn’s demonstrations as “highly deserving of patronage,” writing that “few persons will attend the [exhibition] without being much gratified.”4

After a few years, Finn moved to Boston, Massachusetts, and opened his exhibition to a new audience. He was situated near the Old South Meeting House, the Old State House, King’s Chapel, and Benjamin Franklin’s birthplace. A handbill for the show proclaims, “The process of Modeling Figures and Animals from the glass, in a state of Fusion, is so wonderfully curious, as to strike the beholder with astonishment – and must be witnessed, to decide on its merits, as no description can convey an adequate idea of the pleasure it affords.”5

Finn didn’t stay in Boston for long. By the beginning of 1832, he had traveled far south and was demonstrating lampworking above a jewelry store at 115 Chartres Street in New Orleans, Louisiana. Once again it seems he chose his location carefully, renting space in the French Quarter. The price of admission for his show had doubled to 50 cents, and he made additional revenue by selling figurines and ornaments “well adapted for relatives or friends.”6

Finn demonstrated in four New Orleans locations, including this room over a jewelry store. Source: Google News

Over the next decade, Finn revisited many of these cities. He traveled back to New York and Washington, D.C., then Boston, and finally New Orleans. He may have stopped in other cities in between, like Augusta, Georgia, but sometimes his trail dries up for a year or two. Even with all the information we have, Finn’s life and location is still a mystery at times.

Mapping Finn’s route

Examining individual advertisements, reviews, or travel records provides insight into Finn’s life, but arranging multiple documents chronologically and mapping his movements gives us an even better idea of how he spent his time in the United States.

Finn visited New York City, Washington, D.C., Boston, and New Orleans repeatedly, and traveled mostly along the East Coast. Among the cities he visited from the late 1820s through the early 1840s, those mentioned above (excluding Washington, D.C., and including Philadelphia) were among the top five most populous cities of the United States. Only Baltimore, Maryland – at the time, the second largest city in the country – is missing from Finn’s itinerary, although it is entirely likely he demonstrated there, given his travel habits and exhibitions in nearby Washington, D.C. By choosing these major cities as tour stops, Finn exposed his show to hundreds of thousands of people, thereby increasing his potential revenue and popularity. The fact that he was employed by Rubens Peale and John Scudder, Jr., (both owners of successful New York City museums) speaks to his success.

Explore Lawrence Finn’s path from London to New York and beyond using this map.

A version of this post was originally published on the Corning Museum of Glass blog on June 13, 2017.


John Tilley’s wonderful mechanisms

To be seen in a neat Sitting Room, at 141 Broadway: the wonderful mechanisms of fancy glass blower John Tilley. This early American broadside, ca. 1820, enumerates the delights New Yorkers could observe if they paid the 25-cent admission fee to Tilley’s glassmaking and scientific exhibition.

handbill describing the show of John Tilley

Wonderful Mechanism J. Tilley, Fancy Glass Blower, from London. New York: J. Robinson, 1820. Collection of the Rakow Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 163866.

John Tilley, originally from London, was the first known itinerant glassworker to bring his exhibition to the United States.1 Eighteenth-century Americans, influenced by their Puritan backgrounds, often shunned traveling entertainers and educators of any sort, some going so far as to outlaw circuses, traveling menageries, and acting troupes. Once those restrictions were lifted, Tilley and others found success touring cities along the East Coast.

Location

Tilley may have been the first glassworker to demonstrate in New York City, but he certainly wasn’t the last to make the city, and specifically Broadway, his home. Later artisans such as Lawrence Finn, W. Belzoni Davidson, and the Woodroffe brothers set up exhibitions in rented rooms and at museums including Barnum’s American Museum at the intersection of Broadway and Ann Street. Like it is today, the street was a center for entertainment.

Even in 1820, New York City (then confined to Manhattan) was bustling. The city’s population had grown to more than 123,000 people, close to 30,000 more than just a decade before.2 William Cobbett, a British farmer, journalist, and politician who lived on a Long Island farm from 1817 until 1819, described the city as resembling “an English town, in point of manners and customs, much more than any other place that I have seen in America.”3 He comments on the low prices and high quality of everything from the food to the household furnishings available to residents.

On women’s fashions, he states, “The most gay promenades in and about London, and even the boxes of our licenced and degraded theatres, are, in point of female dresses, perfect beggary compared with the every day exhibition in the ‘Broad way’ of New York; where the very look of every creature you meet gives evidence of the existence of no taxation without representation.” Based on Cobbet’s description, it is easy to imagine crowds of well-dressed women and men patronizing Tilley’s exhibition.

Show highlights

Like many 19th-century itinerant glassworkers, John Tilley offered his audience a range of enticing entertainments. These included “Spinning and Reeling Hot Glass round a Wheel, with the astonishing velocity of a Mile in less than two minutes” and “Blowing Glass to different degrees of thinness and forming it into various Articles, such as Writing Pens, Smelling Bottles, &c. &c.”

In addition, Tilley explained scientific properties and principles using glass models such as a Cartesian diver and a “Hydro Pneumatic Fountain.” One curious demonstration involved Tilley blowing a “small Globe,” which he said would form “nearly” a vacuum and would fall to the floor “with apparent great weight.”

While John Tilley’s exhibition was “to be seen for a few Days only,” records of his shows and innovations are still available more than two centuries later.

A version of this post was originally published on the Corning Museum of Glass blog on December 19, 2016.


© 2024 Gathering A Crowd

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑