Author: Louisa Cornell

Louisa Cornell

By the late 18^th century, a new species of rat had invaded England. The brown or “Norway” rats were much larger and quite frankly more frightening than the common black rat indigenous to England. Catching and eliminating rats was considered the perfect job for the poorer citizens of England, especially those people born and bred in the poorer areas of larger cities like London, Manchester, and Edinburgh. After all, these were the people who spent their childhoods playing with rats in the floorboards of their meager homes.

The more successful rat-catchers used ferrets and dogs to catch rats. They were paid per rat and sending a dog into the sewers and less clean and accessible parts of homes and businesses was less work, for the rat-catcher at least. The dogs used for this task were mostly terrier-type dogs. Their prey drive, ferocity, small size and quickness made them perfectly suited for the task.

Some of the breeds used as ratters were:

Bull Terriers

Bedlington Terriers

Fox Terriers

Jack Russell Terriers

Rat Terriers

Black and Tan Terriers

Manchester Terriers

Yorkshire Terriers

Staffordshire Bull Terriers

 

Those who used and bred dogs for this purpose kept close track of their dogs’ pedigrees. They sought to bred in those traits best suited to ratters and the breed out unwanted qualities. Surprisingly, even those poorest and least educated breeders of rat-catching dogs took great pride in the breeding and pedigrees of their dogs. Having a dog related to some of the better-known ratters was a source of pride, not to mention a great selling point when seeking employment, especially in the more successful businesses and in the more exclusive homes in London.

How did dogs gain reputations as champion ratters? From the late 18^th into the early 19^th centuries word-of-mouth was a big part of spreading a dog’s fame. However, rat-catchers didn’t only breed dogs, they also bred rats. They bred rats for three purposes.

1. Frankly, they bred them to encourage repeat customers or to persuade customers to avail themselves of the rat-catcher’s services. Yes, they bred rats to turn loose in businesses and houses to drum up business.
2. They bred them to demonstrate their dogs’ prowess as rat catchers. They gave demonstrations and eventually, once other baiting sports were banned in 1835 by Parliament’s passing of the Cruelty to Animals Act, rat baiting contests took place in the facilities formerly used for cock-fighting, dog fighting and bear baiting. Thousands of rats were needed for these contests and ratters provided them.
3. They bred rats for unique colors to sell them to the gentry and aristocrats as pets. Yes, even young Queen Victoria had pet rats, but people were keeping rats as pets long before she did. One of the most famous breeders of pet rats was also one of England’s most famous rat catchers. Jack Black styled himself as rat catcher to Queen Victoria. He was also written up in Henry Mayhew’s 1815 book London Labor and the London Poor. He dressed rather elegantly for a rat catcher in order to drum up business. He was the first recorded breeder of fancy rats and also provided rats for rat baiting contests.

Rat catching dogs made money for their owners both in catching and eliminating rats for customers and in participating in rat baiting contests which involved cash prizes for the winning dogs and, of course, wagering on the outcome of the contests.

These dogs were highly prized by their owners both for their ability to kill rats for customers and by 1835 for their ability in the rat baiting ring. I daresay their lot in life was better than that of turnspit dogs in spite of the very real danger of possible injury and even death when catching rats. These dogs were doing what they were born and bred to do.

One of the most celebrated ratters of his day was the 26-pound bull terrier, Billy, owned by Charles Dew.

The October 1822, edition of The Sporting Magazine provide us with descriptions of two rat pit matches with Billy.

Thursday night, Oct. 24, at a quarter before eight o’clock, the lovers of rat killing enjoyed a feast of delight in a prodigious raticide at the Cockpit, Westminster. The place was crowded. The famous dog Billy, of rat-killing notoriety, 26 lb. weight, was wagered, for 20 sovereigns, to kill 100 rats in 12 minutes. The rats were turned out loose at once in a 12-foot square, and the floor whitened, so that the rats might be visible to all. The set-to began, and Billy exerted himself to the utmost. At four minutes and three-quarters, as the hero’s head was covered with gore, he was removed from the pit, and his chaps being washed, he lapped some water to cool his throat. Again, he entered the arena, and in vain did the unfortunate victims labor to obtain security by climbing against the sides of the pit, or by crouching beneath the hero. By twos and threes, they were caught, and soon their mangled corpses proved the valor of the victor. Some of the flying enemy, more valiant than the rest, endeavored by seizing this Quinhus Flestrum of heroic dogs by the ears, to procure a respite, or to sell their life as dearly as possible; but his grand paw soon swept off the buzzers, and consigned them to their fate. At seven minutes and a quarter, or according to another watch, for there were two umpires and two watches, at seven minutes and seventeen seconds, the victor relinquished the glorious pursuit, for all his foes lay slaughtered on the ensanguined plain. Billy was then caressed and fondled by many; the dog is estimated by amateurs as a most dextrous animal; he is, unfortunately, what the French Monsieurs call borg-ne, that is, blind of an eye. This precious organ was lost to him some time since by the intrepidity of an inimical rat, which as he had not seized it in a proper place, turned round on its murderer, and deprived him by one bite of the privilege of seeing with two eyes in future. The dog BILLY, of rat-killing notoriety, on the evening of the 13th instant, again exhibited his surprising dexterity; he was wagered to kill one hundred rats within twelve minutes; but six minutes and 25 seconds only elapsed, when every rat lay stretched on the gory plain, without the least symptom of life appearing.’ Billy was decorated with a silver collar, and a number of ribband bows, and was led off amidst the applauses of the persons assembled.

 

Billy’s best competition results are: (Yes, they kept meticulous records of this.)

Date              Rats killed         Time                                   Time per rat
1820–??-??        20               1 minute, 11 seconds                3.6 seconds
1822-09-03      100              8 minutes, 45 seconds             5.2 seconds
1822-10-24       100              7 minutes, 17 seconds             4.4 seconds
1822-11-13        100               6 minutes, 25 seconds            3.8 seconds
1823-04-22      100               5 minutes, 30 seconds            3.3 seconds
1823-08-05      120               8 minutes, 20 seconds            4.1 seconds

Billy’s career was crowned on 22 April 1823, when a world record was set with 100 rats killed in five and a half minutes. This record stood until 1862, when it was claimed by another ratter named “Jacko”. Billy continued in the rat pit until old age, reportedly with only one eye and two teeth remaining.

Louisa Cornell

These dogs were known by a number of names—Canis vertigus (Carl Linnaeus gave them this name in the 1700’s – “dizzy dog” because they were always spinning,) vernepator cur (Latin for “the dog that turns the wheel”) and more commonly, the turnspit dog. The first mention of them in written record was in 1576 in the first book on dogs ever written. Their existence is acknowledged from the 1500’s forward and they were considered an essential part of every British kitchen well into the 19^th century.

The job of the turnspit dog, simply put, was to turn the meat roasting over the open hearth found in nearly all British kitchens from the 16^th century forward. Cooking meat in an oven was frowned upon and roasting any meat, be it beef, lamb, pork or even turkey, over an open fire was the preferred method of doing so. Interestingly, have one’s meat turned by a turnspit dog was eventually considered a sign of poverty. In homes where a servant was given the task, it was usually done by the lowliest member of the kitchen staff, the potboy, for instance. If one could not afford to pay a servant to turn the spit, a dog was the least expensive way to get the job done.

How did turnspit dogs turn the meat on the spit? Anytime meat was to be roasted, one of these dogs was hoisted into a wooden wheel mounted high on the wall near the fireplace. But not too close as the heat might make the dog faint or even die. The wheel was attached to a chain which ran down to the spit. As the dog ran, the spit turned. Think hamster wheel. The turnspit dog was viewed as a kitchen utensil rather than a dog.

These dogs were bred to this purpose. The breeding had far less to do with bloodlines than it had to do with size, tenacity, and athleticism. They tended to be “long-bodied, crooked legged, and rather ugly little dogs.” This description appeared in Edward Jesse’s book Anecdotes of the Dog, published in 1846. They were bred primarily for two qualities:

1. They had to be able to run for hours without stopping. An average piece of meat took three hours to roast. How were these dogs motivated and conditioned to run for three hours? Generally, during their early training, a hot coal would be tossed in the wheel to motivate them. Some were trained by a piece of meat hanging before the wheel, just out of reach.
2. They had to fit in the wheel. Therefore, only dogs with short, stubby legs and stout bodies were bred to achieve the right form for the job. This often resulted in dogs with bandy legs and sometimes due to inbreeding these qualities were almost deformities.

In addition to these physical attributes, it was often said of these dogs that they had a morose disposition and “suspicious” and “unhappy” expressions. One can scarcely begin to wonder why!

The dogs were afforded one day off, Sunday, if one could call it a day off. They were normally taken to church with the family to act as foot warmers. There is the story from Bath that claims the Bishop of Gloucester set off a turnspit dog rampage when, in the middle of his sermon he said the words “It was then that Ezekiel saw the wheel.” The story goes, when the turnspit dogs in attendance at their masters’ feet heard the word “wheel” they fled the church, afraid they were being sent back to work.

The life of a turnspit dog was one of monotony and control. They were confined to keep them from running away. They were trained from an early age to run for hours on end. They were fed well enough to sustain their muscles, but not enough to ever be fully sated. A dog with an appetite for meat could be tempted to run longer. They were not confined to the wheel save for the hours they had to work. They were likely some of the few dogs in poorer households who were completely house-trained. It is likely they were confined to small boxes when they were not working. Several records report that the dogs were owned in pairs so as not to overtax one dog.

By 1750 there were turnspits everywhere. By 1850 they were scarce and by 1900 they had disappeared completely, replaced by machines. The breed essentially became extinct as it was said that people did not want to keep ugly little morose dogs as pets. Interestingly enough, Queen Victoria is said to have kept three retired turnspit dogs as pets. There are some who say the Welsh Corgi is actually descended from the turnspit dogs of the 19^th century.

Follow this link to see what many consider the last turnspit dog, Whisky, preserved by a taxidermist and held at the Abergavenny Museum in Wales.

https://www.peoplescollection.wales/items/9729

Hester Bateman (1708-1794)

The mark of Hester Bateman registered in 1761 (1708–1794). Mrs. Bateman, a silversmith of household silverware in London, used her special initials along with the standard hallmarks; the crown signifying a tax is paid to the crown, a lion which identifies the type of metal (sterling silver) and the h, a “date letter” which notes the year of production.

 

By Louisa Cornell

 

Born Hester Needham in 1708 (perhaps 1709) in London

She married John Bateman (sometime between 1730-1732) He worked in silver and gold and his primary business was thought to be watch chains. Hester learned everything about the silversmith business from him that she could, but also studied the work of others.

Bateman left his business in its entirety to his wife when he died in 1760.

By 1761 she had registered her mark at Goldsmiths Hall in London.

By 1774 hers was one of the most successful shops in London.

Unlike other silversmiths she didn’t specialize in one area. Her shop made a wide variety of tableware as well as inkwells, trophies, and religious items.

 

Her simple but elegant designs were popular among the new rising middle class. Her integration of the newest technology into production enabled her to charge lower prices for quality work.

Her work was characterized by bright-cut engraving, beading around the edges, and piercing.

She retired in 1790 and turned her business over to her sons as her daughter, Letitia Clarke, had opened her own business as a jeweler and goldsmith.

Hester died in 1794. Her sons continued the business and it was passed down as a successful concern to her male and female descendants until it closed in 1843.

Hester Bateman is considered one of England’s finest silversmiths, male or female. Pieces with her mark are highly prized (not to mention highly priced) today.

Her business acumen and willingness to experiment with new technology took a small silver shop and turned it into a thriving and profitable concern able to support her family and a number of employees as well.

Not bad for a woman who learned her craft in spite of no formal education whilst married to a man ill with tuberculosis and raising six children.

 

Louisa Cornell

These days anyone in any sort of business knows the advantage and efficiency an attractive and well-worded business card can provide. These small embossed pieces of card stock are a relatively inexpensive and quick way to get the word out about the services one offers. Tucked away in a potential customer’s wallet or kitchen drawer they offer a chance of repeat customers or of custom from someone who discovers themselves in need of a particular service.

Brilliant idea, right? But where did the idea come from? We will likely never know precisely, but here are some things about early business cards in England, or rather trade cards, as they were more frequently called, that we do know. Their history is quite fascinating and presents a microcosm of the development of business and trade in the British Isles.

Trade cards first came into current use after 1700. There are a few examples from as early as 1630, but their consistent use is not documented until after 1700. They were originally sheets of paper ranging up to folio size. They were called by a variety of names – tradesmen’s cards, tradesmen’s bills or shopkeepers’ bills. By the nineteenth century, with the advent of so many printing techniques they ranged from calling card size to highly colored handbills known as counter cards.

The cards of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries featured some aesthetic qualities to rival and even surpass those of today. They reflect the skills of artisans through two centuries. The lettering is well-drawn and spaced with machine-like precision. The designs and devices that appear on the cards are direct and eye-catching. These early cards belonged primarily to those in professions or those of the merchant class. Their designs were created to appeal to the educated classes.

Many of the early trading cards show the influence of Thomas Chippendale, especially his work in the popular Chinese style. This was especially true once the public menace of ornate hanging signs to denote a business location was replaced with the street numbering of addresses around the year 1762. The focus of the cards also changed. The script of the cards came to include the type of goods advertised and directions to the establishment.

Richard Severn, Jeweller and Toyman

The corner of Paul’s Grove-Head-Court

near Temple Barr, London

 

John Suffield was an engraver and desiger of lettering, although he was also known through his signed metal work and made a medal commemorating the election of Sir Charles Cockerell to Evesham in 1819. Suffield is also listed in the 1817 Johnstone’s London Commercial Giude, and Street Directory.

 

 

Trade Card for R. Ackermann, Printseller and Art Dealer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For those who want to learn more on this intriguing subject I suggest the book:

London Tradesmen’s Cards of the Eighteenth Century by Ambrose Heal.

If you are interested in the role trade cards have played in discovering the role of women in business in 18th and 19th century England, stay tuned. I will be adding a post dedicated to that subject quite soon!