THE COUNTRY STORE IN AMERICAN SOCIAL
HISTORY*
by THOMAS D. CLARK
Professor of History, University of
Kentucky
Any rural American over forty years of
age and possessed of a
sound memory often lets his mind wander
back to the countryside
and conditions of his youth. Many
institutions and symbols of the
past are reminiscent of a life of peace
and contentment. There was
the country church where he worshipped,
or, perhaps more exactly,
sat and longed to be out in the
sunshine and fresh air with the
ungodly. The country schoolhouse was
surrounded by memories of
incidents which occurred in the lives
of several generations. Scarcely
anyone can fail to recall the tender
billows of love for a shy farmer
girl or boy which overflowed his soul
at country school. Occasions
of boyish pranks, gawky adolescent
accidents, and even the sting
of the master's switch are all blended
into an azure haze of fond
memories. But none of these surpass in
memory the delights of the
country store.
Just as the famous caravans from the
East in the fifteenth century
brought exotic goods into medieval
Europe, so the American country
stores of the last half of the
nineteenth and first decades of this
century brought a wide variety of goods
to their communities. North
and South, store architecture was
fairly well standardized. Perhaps
this was not so true of the stocks of
goods in the two sections.
Southern stores carried many types of
merchandise which had a
fairly restricted local demand, and the
same thing was true of
northern and western stores. But
whatever the variation in stocks,
there was little difference in the
fascination of stores for their cus-
tomers in all sections. Stores
everywhere smelled alike, and the
general arrangement of merchandise was
practically the same. Just
as stock was piled onto shelves and
counters and tumbled into
corners and along the aisles in general
disorder, so the odors of
the stores were mixed. There was a
common smell of tobacco,
apples, kerosene, horse collars,
freshly painted farm implements,
*This is the text of a lecture delivered
at the Ohio State Museum, Columbus,
November 2, 1950.
126
The Country Store in American Social
History 127
the glaze on cloth, cheese, whiskey,
asafetida, peppermint candy,
soap, oranges, human beings, the store
cat, Hoyt's cologne, rats,
dairy feed, and a thousand other things
which made up the stock
of a general store. There have been few
odors in America which
have created so genuine a bit of
nostalgia. Stock in modern stores
is moved so fast or is kept so clean
and separated that there is
little opportunity for blending
seductive odors of trade.
The old-fashioned country store was a
genuine American in-
stitution carefully geared to the tempo
and needs of a rural agrarian
society which pushed its way on to an
extending frontier. In Europe
crossroad villages were dispersed at
frequent intervals in farming
country, but they were more formal than
American crossroads.
Abroad it was the church and its
priests that set the pace in local
society, but here it was often stores
and merchants who centralized
community life. Frequently country store
sites remained isolated,
and countless crossroads have never got
over being crossroads. On
the frontier the country stores were
trading posts-and they still
are in many sections of the West and
Southwest. Stores moved
in the vanguards of civilization, and
wherever furs and hides were
sold and there was demand for goods,
merchants always appeared
ready to do business. Even before there
was a justifiable demand
for a permanent store along the
frontier, there were peddlers who
drifted through the country seeking
customers wherever they might
be halted long enough to trade.
A great American folk type was the
Yankee who traveled into
new country with his packs of goods.
James Flint observed in the
early part of the nineteenth century
that anybody with a bundle
on his back was mistaken for a peddler,
and he had to answer
endless questions about what he was
carrying with him. It was
not from rudeness that back country
people asked so many ques-
tions, but from a desire to purchase
goods. As a result of this
feverish desire to trade, Mark
Fletcher, clerk of the circuit court
of Kane County, Illinois, impressed a
cross in one side of the
courthouse Bible and a silver dollar in
the other. Protestants he
swore upon the open Bible, Catholics he
bound upon the cross,
and Yankees were made to swear upon the
impressed silver dollar.
Scotsmen were just as aggressive as
easterners in seeking business
128
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
and building stores. Thus it was that
the country store early became
a permanent fixture in American life.
Countless modern calendar
and popular advertising prints have
portrayed the country store
as a long, shotgun-barreled room along
whose walls were displayed
shelves filled with canned goods and
packaged merchandise. A
heterogeneous mixture of tin ware,
leather goods, clothing, hard-
ware, and household utensils hung down
from the ceilings or were
crammed into the corners. The middle
aisle was cluttered with
boxes, barrels, and bales of goods. But
above all, the pot-bellied
stove stood out as a gathering place.
Surrounding the stove was
a collection of broken-down chairs
which had been whittled and
wallowed into a state of decrepitude
that made them literally defy
all physical laws. Nail and horseshoe
kegs, cartridge cases, apple
boxes, and bales of goods and sacks of
feed supplemented the
ancient assortment of chairs as seats
for loafers. An up-ended nail
keg served as a pedestal for the
checker board, which was often
so badly worn and begrimed that the
squares could scarcely be
discerned.
The checkers themselves were so covered
with soil that many
an argument originated because players
could not tell their pawns
apart. A pair of ancient men bending
low over a close game while
bystanders peered over their shoulders
seem to be stock characters
in the frequent painting of this scene.
There were others too; the
persistent discussers of the news of the
day or the gossips who
kept their communities both disturbed
and misinformed were there,
as were the wits with their jokes and
pranks; the sport was there
also with tales of his feats both of
fishing and loving. Actually
this is not too far-fetched a picture
of the inside of the average
country store. Perhaps there never were more inviting
loafing places
for countrymen than the stove-side of
the local store in winter and
its porch in the summer.
A store without a porch was like a
church without a pulpit. What
the stove was in winter the porch
became in summer-a community
gathering place. Every loafer who had a
pocket knife and energy
enough to whittle and talk could always
find an ideal piece of
soft pine board to keep his hands
occupied. Possibly no other
assembling place in rural America was
the scene of so much casual
The Country Store in American Social
History 129
conversation and the exchange of so
much miscellaneous news and
information. "I heard it at the
store," was acceptable prefatory
explanation of the source of gossip and
news. It was to the store
that thousands of countrymen went to
tell both their good and bad
news. It was there that they sought
help in emergencies, and there
they bought materials to tide them over
their crises. It was over
the store telephones that distant
relatives were called and told
to come home, or officers of the law
were summoned in cases of
crime. Messages were left to be passed
on by merchants, and these
were nearly always repeated in the
hearing of loafers. Men came
to the stores to proclaim their good
fortunes, to get drunk, and
sometimes to pick fights. They came to
get petitions signed and
to air their views on politics and
politicians. Often it was at the
stores that public opinion was
crystallized around issues and per-
sonalities. Subscriptions to community
charities and enterprises
were taken. Inevitably the country
store became a center of com-
munity activity. On rainy days when
farmers were bored with
sitting about their houses they could
find an excuse to slip away
to stores to meet their neighbors.
Just as local gossip was passed about
at the stores, news of the
outside world filtered in with
commercial travelers. These harbingers
of industrialism and the cities came in
spring wagons and double-
buggies loaded with sales kits, trunks,
and chatter. Handing news
around was a necessary adjunct of the
successful drummer. A good
salesman was ready to talk about crop
conditions in his territory,
the general world situation, the latest
prize fight, happenings in
the city, and frequently to pass on the
newest salacious jokes which
he had gathered from the lobbies in
favorite drummer hotels.
Salesmen who traveled from one country
store to another pos-
sessed a rather specialized talent for
dealing with people. They
could not be too sophisticated or they
would lose their sales, yet they
had to exhibit enough polish of the
city to impress their customers
with their importance. Their capacity
for food seems to have been
surpassed only by their love of drink.
They were fond of card
playing and pranking, and their
association with women of easy
virtue became a cliche in American
folklore and humor. Actually
the drummers were men who faced many
hardships in bumping
130
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
from place to place in horse drawn
vehicles, and in making out
endless orders and reports for their
houses. They were eyes and
ears of the businesses which they
represented, and they reported
every significant change which came
within their purview. Bed and
board in rural hotels were often less
than luxurious, and seldom
was any of it up to the standards of
even a modest home. Time hung
heavily on the drummer's hand and it is
little wonder that he
occasionally got into ludicrous
escapades in barren country towns.
But like postmen, salesmen went their
way through rain, hail, sleet,
and snow; they were the advance agents
of a vibrant American
capitalism.
But back to the store. There was an
everlasting attractiveness
about it. In the shelves up front were
the goods to catch the
feminine eye. Packed away in neat
assortments were bolts of cloth,
rolls of ribbon, boxes of stockings,
decorations for hats, oil cloth,
and the ever-present thread cases. Two
names stand out in American
enterprise in J. and P. Coats's and
Clark's O.N.T. thread. Their
cases or cabinets were sent everywhere
in America. It was a poor
and insignificant merchant indeed who
was not able to display
from one to a dozen thread cabinets.
These counter fixtures have
now become prized antiques, and like
the egret they have been
threatened with extinction from the
counters. Back of them is an
extensive history of Scotch-American
enterprise.
As early as 1840 the black and gold
labels bearing the famous
legend "J. and P. Coats BEST SIX
CORD THREAD" was intro-
duced to the American trade, and in
April 1870 the first American
wound Coats thread was offered for
sale. Customers could buy a
spool for a nickel, or six spools in a
yellow box with a six-inch
ruler printed on the lid for a quarter.
The sales cases were first
manufactured as a by-product from the
spool factory. The early
ones were made of walnut, maple, and
cherry and appeared with
long brass strips inserted in the faces
of the drawers, which bore
the company's name. Later brass gave
way to glass and the cases
were made larger and more elaborate. In
order to overcome com-
petition the thread companies made
their cabinets more attractive.
In an advertising campaign they gave
away cards in series, but the
cards were so arranged that a customer
had to buy a considerable
The Country Store in American Social
History 131
quantity of thread in order to secure a
complete set of gaudy colored
pictures.
Just as thread cabinets were standard
store fixtures, so were the
small glass-enclosed counters which
contained large assortments of
novelty merchandise and cosmetics. Here
were kept papers of pins,
rolls of elastic, hair pins, hair
curlers, rats, switches, hat pins, bits
of "cheap john" jewelry,
garter buckles, corset laces, corset stays,
face powder, and colognes. Countless
brands of perfumes and
colognes were offered to the trade by
country merchants. None of
them, however, exceeded in general
popularity Hoyt's famous line.
Earlier perfumers were almost as
imaginative as the present com-
pounders in naming their products. They
offered the American
female scents to fit many moods and
intents. Among these were
"Little Tot," "American
Girl," "Boudoir," "Bridal Bouquet,"
"Duchess Ladies,"
"Sensible," "Home Sweet Home," "Bow Wow,"
and "Happy Families." These
brands could be bought wholesale
at from $.25 to $83.75 a dozen.
Possibly the most popular variety
of all was the common counter brand,
"Hoyt's 5-center."
In the section of the store which
rather casually served as a
ladies' department there were many
other goods which reflected
the time and taste of the American
woman. Country stores kept at
least a full season behind the popular
city styles, but even so their
stock was modern enough to indicate
what was being worn in any
given period. In the latter part of the
nineteenth century heavy
flowing long skirts and ruffled
shirtwaists were offered for sale in
varying styles and prices. Foundation
garments, especially the corset
and the voluminous underskirt, were
standard lines of merchandise.
Corsets were offered in many styles and
by many trade names-
most of them descriptive of the figures
of the prospective wearers.
Every female beyond the age of fourteen
went forth girded and
corded as though she were a bale of
goods headed for an inter-
national port.
Tender young girls bound their lithe
figures in such gentle little
supports as "Darling,"
"Little Pet," and "Young Ladies' Beauty,"
while their older and more coquettish
sisters strolled forth fully
bastioned beneath such seductive
binding as "Primrose Path," "A
La Spirite," "Talk of the
Town," "Annie," "Cousin Jane," or the
132
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
"Daisy." Mothers and matrons
appeared in public fully buttressed
in such robust compressors as the
"Queen Victoria," the "W.C.P.,"
and the "Admiral Dewey." The
"Victoria" was a rugged binder
stoutly reinforced with steel stays
held in place with canvas and
bound top and bottom with galloon
webbing. The two halves were
pulled together fore and aft with
strong laces which assured a
rigidity of shape regardless of the
careless intent of Nature.
Shoes and stockings underwent numerous
style changes. Some
of the earlier stockings appeared to
have been made for the inmates
of a state reformatory. They had
stripes running either up and
down the calves or winding around them
in spirals. A few styles
had patterns resembling the national
great seal worked into them
just above the shoe top. But whatever
the design, their artistry was
indeed lost, because modesty forbade
the showing of even so much
as a feminine ankle, let alone the calf
of a leg.
Like stockings, shoes ran a rather wide
gamut of style changes
from flat heel and broad toe numbers to
those with unusually high
heels and tops which laced half way up
the leg, and which had
needle-point toes. It is a fact of some
historical significance that
American women won the right to go to
the polls just about the
time they got their toes and calves
bound so tight, and their heels
so high off the ground that they could
scarcely stand erect to mark
a ballot. Many a merchant can yet
recall the sad mistake he made
by overstocking his store with these
sharp-toed, high heeled mon-
strosities of the post-World War I
period.
Hats, like all other articles of female
clothing, underwent rapid
changes. In the immediate post-Civil
War years there were the fancy
flowery offerings which made the
average female appear to be a
moving garden. Later feminine fancy
turned to gadgets and feathers,
which grew heavier with each succeeding
season until the ultimate
was reached in decoration--even
including a hat pin with a vanity
box for mirror and powder puff on its
head. By the nineteen twenties,
when the egret was almost a thing of
the past and millinery extrava-
ganzas had been radically curbed by
wartime shortages, milliners
went to the other extreme of offering
merchants stocks of hats that
looked like eccentric Roman helmets
fitted over the straight and
bobbed tresses of half-starved and less
than half-clothed Junos,
The Country Store in American Social
History 133
who gave the additional appearance of
having become rather well-
weathered.
Once large assortments of piece goods,
wrapped neatly in bolts,
were stored above counters where
thrifty women sat long hours
selecting patterns with which to create
homemade dresses. The
twentieth century, however, wrought a
change. Even the checker-
players learned in many stores that
their long-time possession of
floor space about the store was usurped
by new style dress racks
which displayed ready-to-wear
merchandise. Gradually the beautiful
old thread cabinets became less used
for their original purposes
and did substitute services for money
tills and filing cabinets. How-
ever romantic but complicated the
earlier dress goods trade might
have been, modern decades brought a
more sensible design in
feminine clothing. At the same time
women became more style-
conscious even in the most isolated
areas, and the country stores
finally had to give up most of their
dress goods trade because
personal inventory liabilities became
too great for little business
men to absorb them.
With changing times in both styles and
economic conditions
there came also a radical change in
parent-child relationships. Once
a father and mother determined what
their children should wear
and bought such clothes as they chose.
The child was seldom if ever
consulted about his clothing, and if a
garment failed to fit he had
to wear it anyway. This was especially
true of shoes. In many
localities a father rounded up his
family in the fall, measured their
feet, and set off on a shoe buying
expedition. In some instances a
man appeared at a store with an
assortment of strings or pieces
of wood with notches cut on them and he
bought shoes by length
and assumed that if the length was all
right that they could be
stretched to the proper width. This
same principle applied to quality
and colors of dress goods. Whatever the
head of the household
brought home, that was what his
womenfolk had to wear. How-
ever, it was more the practice that
fathers and mothers went once
or twice a year on all-day shopping
expeditions to the stores and
came home with enough clothing to last
until the next annual
shopping day.
The era of the first World War saw many
changes in public
134
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
moral attitudes and mercantile
practices. Earlier social mores
required merchants to keep much of
their stock of women's cloth-
ing concealed in boxes and in large
counter chests. By 1920, how-
ever, most false modesty had
disappeared and the entire stock of
the store was displayed. Sales, and not
social attitudes were em-
phasized. Brassieres, panties, slips,
stockings, and every other article
of intimate feminine wear was not only
put out for public view, but
was displayed in such a way as to draw
a maximum amount of
attention.
Down the counter from the women's wear
in most of the country
stores were the shelves and stands
which held men's clothing. If
the early styles in women's clothing
appear a bit strange in a
backward glance from this period in our
social history, that of the
average man after 1865 and before 1920
was ludicrous. To begin
with, commercially-made shoes were not
designed for right and left
feet until after 1880. It was not until
1910 that the average country
store bought shoes that exhibited any
individual style, or were of
really good quality. In many areas of
the country the coarse but
durable brogan was almost as much a
staple as were the mustache
cup and buggy whip. Magazines today
advertise without blushing--
and without scandalizing their
readers--the athletic man prancing
about or otherwise exhibiting himself
to public gaze dressed in
brief shorts which give the utmost
freedom in movement. This was
not true of their grandfathers who
voted for Garfield and Cleveland
and bought their underwear at country
stores. Instead of giving
freedom of movement the late nineteenth
century creations were
glorified hobbles. Earlier styles of
undershirts had long sleeves,
and long rows of buttons down the front
made dressing in the
morning a dreaded task. Drawers were
bound at waist and heel
with stout cords, and because of this
binding the American male
from 1865 to 1910 and the advent of
Haynes's free-fitting B.V.D.'s,
was a wretched victim of his underwear.
Their undershirts bound
them by their fiendish constrictions
about the waist, and their legs
were hobbled. By the nineties the
balbriggan type of underwear
was popular, but this innovation only
shifted a bit the points of
constriction. After a few days of wear,
the undraped male country-
man who did a great deal of stooping
gave the appearance of an
The Country Store in American Social
History 135
antediluvian animal whose ample hide
had drawn away from a
badly emaciated body.
Suits were of little better styling.
Jean was, until the late nine-
teenth century, a popular material for
making more durable types
of clothing. Worsteds were used more frequently for
dressup suits.
Pants were tight-legged and long. Coats
were box-backed and were
worn fastened up to the second button
below the chin; lapels were
of black velvet and impractical. Hats
ranged from the soft broad-
brim planter types to the more
formidable derbies. If the catalog
pictures of men's clothing are to be
trusted--which they are not-
the nineteenth century gentleman clad
from the counters of the
country store was, in the language of
the age, "a real dude."
There were other goods on the counters
and shelves for the gentle-
men. In the novelty cases there were
displayed a variety of straight
razors which promised to dispose of
whiskers with great expedition.
Most popular were the English and
German steel blades bearing
the famous Sheffield Wade and Butcher
and Solingen Woesterholm
brands. The safety razor with its
detachable precision factory-
sharpened blade was unknown. It was not
enough for a man to buy
a razor; he likewise needed a strap, an
individual mug, and a supply
of soap. One of the prices of manhood
was an outlay of money for
shaving equipment, and it was with
genuine pride that many a
young man stepped up to the counter and
bought these materials
which showed him to be an adult. Mugs
were sometimes stamped
individually, but most often the
country store or general stock variety
was decorated in a way so as to please
the fancy of unknown cus-
tomers. It was possible to secure one
with the picture of a fierce
bulldog on the side, or the American
eagle, a fighting cock, a
buffalo, a horse's head, or a lodge
emblem. The average countryman,
unlike his town and village neighbor,
could not avail himself of the
services of a barber and the
personalized mug of barbershop history.
Every country store carried lines of
hardware and cutlery. Hard-
ware assortments often consisted of
heavy goods such as wagons,
buggies, and farm implements of all
sorts. Hanging from overhead
in the stores was the ubiquitous buggy
whip rack from which a cus-
tomer might make a choice of stock and
then snatch the whip free
of the thread which held it suspended
from the top of the rack.
136
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
Hanging nearby on the wall and from the
ceiling of the store were
bundles of buggy harness, plow gear,
and horse collars. No country
store was ever complete without its
buggy whip racks and festoons
of horse collars. In some ways horse
collars and hanks of leather
lines and large rolls of trace chains
hanging from the ceiling sym-
bolized the secure economic foundations
of both stores and their
communities.
Kegs of nails, piles of plow shares,
hammers, shovels, posthole
diggers, axes, wedges, chains, coils of
wire, and bundles of horse-
shoes lay along the hardware counters
as decorative features. Drums
of axle grease and tanks of kerosene
with their leaky and smelly
pumps completed the picture. Tucked
away in display cases along
counter tops were the smaller and more
refined pieces of hardware
and cutlery which caught everybody's
eye. Possibly no single instru-
ment of human use has ever worked its
way so securely into the
affections and memories of the American
male as did the Russell
Barlow pocket knife. This knife was a
thing of homely beauty and
boyhood pride. The genuine article had
bone handles, brass liners,
and came equipped with one or two
blades. Long iron bolsters had
imprinted upon them an arrow pointing
toward the open blade and
piercing the maker's initial
"R." These knives sold for fifteen and
twenty-five cents each, and are even
yet cherished possessions of
sentimentalists who love to recall
earlier days.
Tucked away in the drawers reserved for
articles of hardware,
were the more melancholic items such as
packages of handles for
coffins and special coffin nails. There
were plates for the lids, hinges,
and other necessary fixtures. At the
dry goods counter were kept
rolls of white and black goods from
which casket linings were
made. There was also a special type of
heavily woven black or gray
material used to cover the clumsy boxes
which neighbors hammered
together in moments of death. Just as
at birth country merchants
supplied clothing for infants, they
were equally as helpful in the
passage of life. The store was for many
people in rural America
literally a place of first and last
resort in the great moments of
human need.
One of the reasons why country
merchants kept ample burial
supplies in stock might have been the
fact that they also carried
The Country Store in American Social
History 137
extensive supplies of proprietary
medicines. This post-Civil War
medicine trade is abundantly reflected
in the advertising of both
the daily and country weekly press.
Both a dietary deficiency and
improper eating habits stimulated the
sale of various types of
bitters and tonics. Possibly it might
be said that a lack of knowledge
on the part of the medical profession
helped to encourage the
nostrum trade. Failure to diagnose and
to properly treat many types
of digestive and infectious diseases
led to the use of strong pro-
prietary stimulants. Large quantities
of printed matter intermixed
with some country store records
indicate fairly clearly the sales
appeal of this type of merchandise.
Among the best known national
nostrums were "Lydia E. Pinkham's
Vegetable Compound," "Dr.
McLean's cordials," "Dr.
King's Golden Medical Discovery,"
"McElrees' Wine of Cardui,"
"Thetford's Black Draught," "Dr.
Pierce's Favorite Prescription,"
and scores of others. There is
almost no end to the list of pills,
ointments, and so-called antiseptics
which were offered to the public.
Every disease known to man, and many
that have not yet been
diagnosed by modern medicine, were
described in such a highly
imaginative yet generalized manner that
no hypochrondriac could
fail to realize that he was afflicted
with the same disease. But the
poor victim needed have no fear,
because he could always buy a
medicine from his neighborhood store
which would go speedily
to the seat of his trouble and cure
it-or so said an army of people
who offered eloquent testimonials as to
their cures. Before one
can become too eloquent about the
romance of the store, he does
have to answer for its shortcomings as
an efficient outlet for the
quacks. Perhaps it can be said
generally that the countryman was
more easily seduced by the
slick-tongued medicine men than his
brother in the larger towns and cities
where possibly medical care
was more readily available. There was
Lydia E. Pinkham, for in-
stance, who kept up a running line of
sympathetic chatter to Ameri-
can women in which she figuratively
took them on her lap and
drew them close to her ample bosom and
dried their tears with
the assurance that both their pains and
their fears were wiped away
when they bought her famous compound.
Few or no women knew
that the motherly Lydia departed this
life on May 17, 1883, but
138
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
that her spirit went marching on in the
clever publicity of James T.
Wetherald, a black and white copy
advertising genius, who poured
literally millions of dollars into the
field of newspaper advertising.
Possibly no one else ever did a more
intensive job of advertising
nationally than did Wetherald, unless
it be that mastermind, Dr.
S. B. Hartman, who offered Peruna to
the American public. This
latter genius knew the value of potent
testimonials, and he stopped
at nothing to give his medicine the
proper send-off in the press and
at the store counters. Congressmen,
senators, governors, sisters of
charity, religious workers, military
officers, preachers, and even
doctors spoke glowing words of praise
for the great Columbus,
Ohio, nostrum.
Many drugs were offered for sale in the
country stores which
were not in the proprietary class.
Among these were calomel,
laudanum, morphine, cocaine, quinine,
copperas, and blue mass. No
store stock was complete without its
rows of bottles of turpentine
and castor oil, harmless products which
were used as a laxative
and antiseptic. Passage of the pure
food and drug act of 1906
only resulted in changes of labels and
the dropping of certain
brands of nostrums, but not the
disappearance of the quack remedies
themselves. After this date the buyer
had to beware, because the
contents of the medicines were on the
label for all to see. After
1911 and the passage of the Harrison
law, entries for balls of gum
opium and dozens of bottles of opiates
in other forms disappeared
from the invoices.
In a generous supply of daybooks,
almanacs, and calendars the
customer got one positive return from
the purchase of patent
medicines. Many of the medicine
companies resorted to this form
of advertising. Each year a shipment of
supplies of these advertising
materials were sent to patronizing
merchants to be made available
to their customers at no cost. The
calendar and the almanac were
as much permanent fixtures of many
households as were clocks
and mantel boards. For many persons the
almanac was their major
source of information about the
weather, recipes, mechanical hints,
agricultural information, and personal
health. Aside from the
commonplace technical weather
information and helpful hints,
many almanacs were important sources of
American folklore and
The Country Store in American Social
History 139
earthy philosophy. In the days before
the appearance of a drug
store in every settlement, the general
merchant was a purveyor of
some goods that made human life a
reckless venture.
Less harmful and ultimately far more
cheerful was the country
merchant's role as a harbinger of
Christmas. It would take a
literary artist indeed to describe the
happy transformation which
came over the average general store
with the approach of Christmas.
Warmth of the seasonal spirit was
exemplified in the glow of the
pot-bellied stove. Boxes of oranges,
and in regions where apples
were not grown, boxes and barrels of
that fruit, indicated that
Christmas was near at hand. Added to
these fancy additions to the
stock were bags of English walnuts,
brazil nuts, and pecans, and
boxes of raisins and other dried fruits
which stood exposed to the
trade on counters and at strategic
spots along the counter bases on
the floor. Mixed in with the collection
of fruit were small kits of
salt mackerel, which for some people
enlivened the Christmas diet.
Occasionally sacks of green cabbage and
bags of sweet potatoes
were added to the display of
delicacies. Boxes of firecrackers and
Roman candles packed in sawdust were
crowded in among cheese
hoops and thread cabinets. Toy wagons,
tricycles, doll buggies and
houses, rocking horses, and other toys
temporarily pushed more
mundane merchandise into the
background. From this Christmas
trade the merchants received quick profits
and much relaxation
from a year-long routine. There have
been few more delightful
and memorable aromas in American
history than that of apples,
oranges, raisins, cheese, and fresh
painted toys in a country store
at Christmas time. Some people, even in
this day of bountiful
supplies of fruit, still recall their
early Christmas seasons when
oranges were seen in most places only
at this time of year.
Some merchants offered more than
apples, oranges, raisins, and
toys to their customers. A barrel of
liquor tucked away in a side
room, and a case of bottles stuck
discreetly under a counter helped
to enliven many a rural citizen's
holidays. It was not well for a
merchant to publicize his sale of
liquor, but it was most always
possible to get by with a limited trade
at the year's end. Some
merchants kept whiskey only for the
purpose of treating patrons
as they settled their annual accounts.
140
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
In many places the store served a
continuous human need as
a sort of cold "vittles"
restaurant. A meal in a country store was
and still is a memorable thing. One
brand of simple and down to
earth wit and opinion has borne the
country store description of
"cracker barrel" philosophy.
Possibly crackers were shipped in
barrels, and certainly they came in
boxes. Storekeepers somewhat
detested handling them no matter what
their bulk containers were,
because it was impossible to keep the
absorbent wafers fresh and
crisp under ordinary storekeeping
conditions. However soggy crackers
might have been, crackers and cheese
became inseparably wedded
in the improvised country store menu.
Big hoops of cheese were
necessary stock for every store.
Possibly the fact that these discs
were kept in stores devoid of
refrigeration for long periods resulted
in considerable ripening and gave them
a pungent flavor, but
however that may be country store
cheese was a fine treat. Merchants
spent considerable time inching the big
yellow discs around on
graduated ratchet turntables and
chopping out nickel's and dime's
worth of mouth-watering wedges. By the
same token salmon,
sardines, cove oysters, canned
tomatoes, peaches, and sausages were
top favorites on the counter menu.
Southern stores reserved a long
section of a counter opposite the
grocery shelf for eating purposes,
and many a merchant kept battered
plates, pans, spoons, knives
and forks, and other utensils for
customers' convenience. It was
here that most countrymen learned for
the first time about the
delights of processed foods.
It would take a considerable catalog to
list all the items which
found their way onto country store
shelves. Contrary to general
concepts, the country trade was not a
limited one. Merchandise
might have been of medium quality, but
certainly the variety was
often extensive. An inventory of the
average store's stock was
almost a listing of basic merchandise
currently available in this
country. Missing, of course, were fancy
goods and some of the
latest and most faddish types of
clothing. Lines of utensils, tools,
arms, implements, vehicles, cloth,
medicine, cutlery, and other
staples were most often as varied and
modern as could be bought.
In many respects the country store was
for more than six decades
in post-Civil War America the most
efficient sales outlet functioning
The Country Store in American Social
History 141
outside the larger cities.
Manufacturers and wholesale merchants
were conscious of this fact. So long as
America remained a pre-
dominantly agricultural nation, the
general store was a major factor
in the distribution of goods. It
represented the so-called free enter-
prise system in what was possibly its
purest form. Every storekeeper
was master of his own economic destiny.
He used his own self-
devised system of merchandising, bought
what goods he wished to
handle, sold them on his own terms,
made fortunes, and went broke
as he pleased.
Not all of the merchant's
responsibilities were confined within
the walls of his store. He functioned
as an influential man in his
community. He had a voice in the running
of the local school,
the church, bank, post office, mill,
and politics. Because of his
advantageous position at the center of
community trade, gossip,
and opinion, he was able to keep
abreast of what was happening
about him. Often he extended his
sympathy in the form of material
help to his needy neighbors, and on
many occasions he had an
opportunity to lead crusades for
community improvements.
World War I saw the beginning of the
end of the widely dis-
persed system of country merchandising.
Just as the buggies and
wagons in the merchant's warehouse were
superseded by the auto-
mobile, and the hitching rack gave way
to the gasoline pump,
and the buggy harness came down from
the ceiling racks, the store
itself was at least given a staggering
blow by the chain and
department stores in towns and cities.
Woolworth and the whole
racket store trade helped to drive most
of the so-called novelty
goods off the country store counters.
Better integrated shipping
facilities brought in the chain grocery
stores and their fabulous
assortments of foodstuffs, so that many
of the famous seasonal
delicacies became everyday necessities.
The old cheese racks with
their ratchet and thick-bladed knives
were moved back to warerooms
to rust out. Christmas boxes of oranges
ceased to be a thing of
the past when Florida and California
citrus growers campaigned
to place their products in every store
bin as staple commodities.
Kits of salt mackerel and the big boxes
of salt meat gave way to
the butcher counter in the modern
groceries, and country and small
town cafes robbed the lunch counter of
its customers. Proud country
142
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
women depended less and less upon the
dry goods counters of their
local stores for clothing. As the
automobile transported them about
a larger trading area, farm wives and
daughters became more and
more label conscious when making their
purchases. An artificial
social standard and economic sense
caused people to be much less
inclined to admit the fact of their
purchases of clothing from
country merchants except in a sense
that they wished to give their
shopping a flavor of sophisticated
adventure.
Specialization in nearly every line of
merchandising tended to
rob old-line storekeepers of their
favored position in both community
and national economic systems. Only in
semi-isolated areas did they
cling to their former status of general
suppliers, but even in this
they had devitalizing competitors. With
the advent of major state
and federal farm legislation the
merchant lost his position as a
creditor to the farmer. Customers who
for decades had depended
upon local merchants as sources of
credit now sought loans from
more efficient and less expensive
credit facilities. Cash prices, clearly
marked on goods for sale in chain
stores, which depended for profit
upon a quick inventory movement,
abolished the old system of
secret code-marking of items, and no
longer was merchandise priced
to customers to a large extent on their
ability ultimately to pay
the price for goods which they bought
on an extended period of
credit.
Where crossroads once existed there are
now villages and towns
of ever-expanding proportions. No
longer are these cities dominated
by their long gangling store houses
with their square fronts
proudly proclaiming their owner's name,
along with the virtues
of a host of articles ranging from
Carter's Little Liver Pills to
Studebaker wagons. Now there are
filling stations and short order
lunch and drink stands. Many of the
antique store houses are left
standing like sleepy old men who linger
on the outer edges of a
dancing party which is going at too
fast a clip for tired feet. Many
of their attics house piles of account
books and papers which tell
the precise story of their former days.
Too few of these records
have been gathered into libraries where
they may be cared for as
sources of economic and social life of
the decades of the immediate
past. Many an old leather-backed
account book contains a better
The Country Store in American Social
History 143
pattern of rural economy than modern
statistical studies which
treat the subject. Too, there is a
perfectly fabulous story of prices.
In those pleasant days of the 1880's
eggs were six to twelve cents
a dozen, chickens were available at a
dollar to two dollars per
dozen, hams sold for eight to ten cents
a pound and bacon was no
higher, and country butter could be had
for a dime. Wheat brought
seventy to eighty cents a bushel, and
good stiff brogans could be
bought for a dollar and a half to two
fifty a pair. A man could
even buy a fairly respectable wedding
suit for as little as eight
dollars and seventy-five cents, a hard
derby hat for two dollars, and
a fancy stickpin for his twenty-five
cent tie for no more than a dollar;
a shaving mug cost a quarter with a
cake of soap thrown in for
good will. The groom could drown his
sorrows of the past and
sharpen his anticipation of the future
in a two dollar jug of liquor,
and he could drive his fast trotting
mare to the wedding in a new
$10.95 set of harness and hitched to a
$45.00 runabout buggy. In
fact, there was no end to the bargains
which could be purchased
in those far-off days before the modern
world caught on fire with
wars and inflation.
Although the country merchant is not an
entirely extinct species,
he has undergrone a radical change of
character. Merchant-customer
relationships have ceased to be as
highly generous and personal as
they once were. The old-line merchant
knew a lot about his cus-
tomer. In the days when the merchant
was also postmaster and
perhaps banker, he knew what mail was
sent and received by almost
every customer. He had some inkling as
to the stage of love affairs,
the location of every child who had
left home to make his way
in the world. He knew who could read
and write, and who had
to come to him for help with their
letters. And what was most im-
portant, merchants could often head off
orders to the mail order
houses.
In selling goods in many localities
even the tightest merchant
had to observe certain definite rules
of human conduct. The cus-
tomer most often could be trusted with
the keys to a warehouse to
secure heavy goods. He could even be
trusted to weigh honestly
produce which he had for sale, and to
weigh and count with accuracy
supplies which he was buying. A wise
merchant seldom weighed or
144
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
counted loose merchandise to the final
piece or fraction of an
ounce. To do so was to show a cheap
close-trading characteristic.
When a pair of pants was sold, often a
belt was included in the
deal, a free hat went with a new suit,
and a pair of socks with a
pair of shoes, and an extra stick of
candy with each nickel's worth.
A biscuit pan or a bucket of lard went
with a barrel of flour, and
a tea cup and saucer with a bucket of
coffee.
For some reason the country merchant
never attracted the specific
attention of the census taker. It is in
vain that one looks for statistical
information about the rural merchant
and his store, but he was not
too insignificant to be considered by
Dun and Bradstreet. Their
listings of credit ratings for the past
not only locate the stores, but
they give some specific knowledge of
the merchant's financial and
business status. Libraries and
historical societies that would preserve
this important chapter in American history
would be well-advised
to bestir themselves before all the
records are cast into the fire
or hauled away to the dump heap.
Writers of social history would
likewise do well to remember that the
history of the country store
is not alone a story of a sentimental
institution about which they
are writing, but rather the much bigger
one of the distribution of
goods and the molding of the American
taste before a large pro-
portion of this country's expanding
population was finally coagulated
into a predominantly urban pattern.