When I first saw the trade cards, I assumed that the women in deep necklines and sexy poses were selling exactly what they were showing. Usually I ignore such images at auction, leaving them for the guys.
But then I saw the word “ointment” in large letters on one of the cards, and I had to see what they were all about. So, I asked the auction staffer behind the glass counter – yes, the cards were kept safely away from sticky fingers – to take them out so I could examine them.
There were four cards, each bearing the image of a woman with upswept hair wearing brilliantly colored dresses with V necklines that revealed nothing but hinted at a lot.
When your children have Croup, Cold
or Sore Throat, there is nothing so good as
ATHLO-OINTMENT
It will not blister the skin or stain the clothing
It was a bit jarring to find such a bare illustration for medicine aimed at children. But the look of the card told me that it was made and distributed in another day and time, when sexy women could be used to sell just about anything.
The other two cards were aimed at adults, and all were likely made during the 1890s for the Athlophoros Co. of New Haven, CT. They were pharmaceutical trade cards, distributed by the company to pharmacies and stores to hand out to their customers as a way to sell their remedies.
Athloporos was among a number of companies that used lithographic trade cards to sell their products using a variety of images. The cards were used to sell medicine, sewing items, farm equipment, food, tobacco, clothing and household goods. Families would paste them into scrapbooks.
On the web, I found a card containing a little girl named Daisy whose mother was “cured” of suffering after taking an Athlophoros product, and “The Country Doctor,” featuring an African American man with two children advertising Ayer’s Cathartic Pills.
Trade cards originated in England in the 18th century. In this country, they became very popular during the latter half of the 19th century but were still in play in the early 20th century. The golden age of the collectible cards ran from 1876 to 1900s, when they were mass produced. They resembled small postcards with lithographic illustrations, either custom made for one store or sold to stores as stock cards that left room for them to imprint their names.
The cards at auction had a space where a pharmacy or store’s name could be printed, signifying that they sold the product.
Like many of the companies, Athlophoros claimed that its medicinal products cured what ailed you. Testimonials by common folks in newspapers cited the curative nature of its products for rheumatism, as in this one from 1886:
From boyhood I have been afflicted with rheumatism, have spent hundreds of dollars trying to get rid of the disease but no matter how much medicine I took the rheumatism has always stuck fast to me, compelling me to spend much time and money say nothing of the suffering I endured. I was advised to try Athlophoros, feeling I could get no worse by doing so I got a bottle, soon there was a change for the better, the pain left me entirely, the medicine worked well until the rheumatism left me.
The company noted that people could buy the medicine from their druggist or directly from the company’s New York office. For “liver and kidney diseases, dyspepsia, indigestion, weakness, nervous debility, diseases of women, constipation, headache, Athlophoros pills are unequaled,” it touted.
The government did not agree. In 1915, the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Connecticut sued the company for misbranding its medicine as a cure, and a jury found the company guilty. It was fined $25 plus costs. A year later, it was cited again for false claims.
The “curative” ingredient in the medicine was said to likely be the morphine sulfate, a narcotic, in the medicine.
