At the turn of the 20th century, there were an estimated 100,000 cigar factories in the United States. With so many cigar makers in business, it took something extra to snuff out the competition. A colorful label with eye-catching art pasted to the interior of the cigar box lid was one way to whet the buyers interest. This was particularly effective in an era when nearly half of America was illiterate. Inside humidified display counters, open cigar boxes featured the varied brands, plus their visual identifiers. Prospective customers may not have been able to read the manufacturers name, but they remembered the picture. Cigar box art actually owes its existence to Abraham Lincoln. At the height of the Civil War, with additional revenue needed, Lincoln proposed a luxury tax. Among those luxuries: perfume, playing cards, and tobacco. The tobacco tax was imposed in 1863, but enforcing it proved a nightmare. Shipping barrels were customarily packed with 2,500 or more cigars. Making sure each cigar was taxed proved, well, taxing. In 1865, new regulations solved the counting conundrum. All cigars, whether domestic or imported, were now packed in wooden boxes of 25, 50, 100, or 250. Boxes sealed with an IRS stamp guaranteed that taxes had been paid. After the war, thanks to greatly reduced taxes, the introduction of cigar molds, and an influx of immigrant labor, cigar-making became a profitable enterprise. By 1900, its estimated that four out of five men (plus an undocumented number of women and children) smoked cigars. During the cigars heyday, from 1870 to 1920, over one and a half million cigar brands set the country afire. For brand recognition, each and every cigar maker depended on its label. The labels may have been different. The cigars often werent. Wholesalers could order exactly the same cigars from a major factory, repackaged with assorted labels. For instance, Powell & Goldstein, a New York cigar manufacturer, turned out just two cigar types: the Factory 370 and the Napoleon. With differing labels for the same cigars, hundreds of custom brands were sold. Bars, restaurants, hotels, and even barbershops could feature their own brands. Vanity labels were also available for those looking to star their children, their dogs, or themselves. And, with a name change, the same art might surface in different locales: Nebraskas straw-hatted Madge brand might be re-dubbed Margaret in Minnesota. Lid art themes appealed to the presumed mostly-male clientele. There were pictures of pretty girls, heart-tugging tributes to Mother and Sister, salutes to popular personalities of the time. The message was implied, if unwarranted: these cigars must be good. Look who smokes them! Prior to 1890, crayon lithography provided cigar labels with limited color but little realistic detail. Later came hand-stippling (dots which, when gathered together, gave an illustration greater depth and shading), plus a full spectrum of blended colors introduced by greeting card pioneer Louis Prang. With embossing and gilding added to the mix, a Golden Age of label illustration lasted into the early 1920s. Then, as cigarette sales lit up, cigar sales went up in smoke. Roughly 80 percent of cigar factories closed their doors, and four-color photomechanical lid labels were the new norm. Less expensive to produce, they were also less visually appealing, Although treasure troves of new-old labels can still occasionally be found, todays collectors usually locate lid art (often still attached to the lids) at antique shows and shops. Age and indifferent storage mean that many lid labels are no longer in pristine condition. Prices can range from under $25 for common labels to several hundred for mint-condition labels, especially those honoring still-recognizable personalities. With so many labels available, focusing on a favorite theme is a practical option. While cigars themselves may have been relegated to the ashcan of history, their labels live on as a glimpse of the past, a unique example of illustrated advertising art in America. Cigar box lids courtesy of Maureen Maher. Photo Associate: Hank Kuhlmann. Photos by Donald-Brian Johnson. Donald-Brian Johnson is the co-author of numerous Schiffer books on design and collectibles, including Postwar Pop, a collection of his columns. Please address inquiries to: donaldbrian@msn.com.