Annabel works in Durham, NC, but hails from its sister city, Durham, in England. As an active member of the Durham Sister City Organisation, she has presented several talks about Durham and Northern England at the Durham City Library. A chance reading of a newsletter from her hometown set Annabel on her quest to discover the history of the Durham Bull and its relationship to the Bull City.
Everyone wanted a Durham Bull. The Durham Shorthorns were the “Cadillac of Cattle” throughout the 19th century. The excitement concerning this breed was not lost on John Ruffin Green, who used an image of a Durham Shorthorn bull for his iconic product, “Genuine Bull Durham Smoking Tobacco.” Exactly 150 years after the “Bull Durham” trademark was established, the bull insignia is being reinvented and displayed on logos and signs of new businesses throughout downtown, connecting Durham to its nom de plume, “The Bull City.” The origin of the Bull Durham “brand,” however, goes back much farther than the mid-19th century, when Durham was the flourishing tobacco capital of North Carolina and Durham shorthorn cows were dominating the cattle trade. In fact, the Durham Bull dates back to a time when medieval knights hunted wild beasts in the parks and forests of northern England, more specifically to an aristocratic family, who displayed a bull blazoned on their coat of arms and whose descendants were Plantagenet Kings of England.
As a transplant from Durham, England, to Durham, North Carolina, all previous knowledge of my new city was through the 1988 film “Bull Durham.” Today I am better informed – I know that Durham, N.C., was actually named after Dr. Bartlett Durham, who agreed to have a railway depot built on his land at a time when the North Carolina railroads were expanding throughout the state in the mid-19th century. By 1869 “Durham’s Station” became a thriving town mostly due to the success of the brand “Genuine Bull Durham Smoking Tobacco.” Although Durham was not directly named after my English, medieval hometown, its moniker “The Bull City” does have a direct link to Durham in the north of England.
Teesdale, Northern England (1346)
Ralph Neville, 2nd Baron Neville de Raby, was doing what he enjoyed most: Riding the chase, a sharp wind blowing at his face, his pulse beating in rhythm with the pounding of his courser’s hooves as he galloped across the heather and grassy moorland of northern England in pursuit of his prize. It was a glorious, crisp November day, cloudless. How he loved these days, and what could be better than a royal hunt to celebrate his recent triumph over the Scottish insurgents at Durham. What’s more, he had proven himself to Edward III, King of England, who in return had honored him by being present at the hunt to celebrate the English victory. Ralph was in great spirits. They were hunting on his land; Neville land at Raby Castle on the banks of the River Tees, some 20 miles southwest of Durham City. The hounds startled Ralph from his thoughts as they caught the scent of their quarry, and he could hear the primeval bellowing of their prey. Once the forest bull was in sight, the greyhounds would be released and they would run down the exhausted creature. Ralph would make sure that Edward was there at the bay and he, Ralph, would hand the spear of the captured Scottish King to Edward for the kill. As Ralph rode on in pursuit of the bull, his thoughts returned to the recent battle. He smiled at the audacity of the young Scottish king who thought he could sneak into the north of England with 12,000 of his kinsmen and take the Northerners by surprise. Edward was in no forgiving mood and David II, King of Scotland, would indeed pay for his folly. Now held in captivity by the English, the Scottish would have to pay a hefty ransom to have their king returned to his homeland.
Ralph lovingly scanned the landscape where he’d hunted since childhood, a land dominated by sky, where heavy, dark clouds kissed the earth as they rolled over the wild terrain. This land was in his blood and he would fight hard to keep it, but the only blood that would be spilled today would be of the hart, boars and, of course, this feral forest bull they were pursuing. He knew that these wild beasts were becoming scarce, not as in his ancestors’ days when stories were told of wild white cattle roaming freely throughout this countryside, and Ralph de Neville proudly carried the emblem of the white bull, the “Neville Bull,” on his crest and shield.
Images of the Neville Bull are still found displayed on medieval buildings once associated with this powerful family, who were the last of the Plantagenet Kings of England. Today, a 14th-century stone carving of the Neville Bull stands above the entrance to the Home Farm at Raby Castle, once proudly displayed on the castle’s barbican when the Neville family occupied Raby before they lost their land and influence. The battle between the Scottish and English armies at Durham in October 1346 became known as the Battle of Neville’s Cross, and to commemorate this victory Ralph de Neville erected an ornate stone cross at the site of the battle. Today, all that remains of the cross is a stone stump on a plinth of steps surrounded by iron railings. I would pass this monument every day as I walked to high school, not fully appreciating its significance. My lack of interest in the cross was recently and radically changed after reading an article concerning the original Neville’s Cross in the The Quarterly Cross, a local Durham (UK) newsletter. The following sentence stood out in the description…
“The Bulls head symbol of the Nevilles became a royal symbol of the Plantagenet Kings and was later adopted as a trademark from which Durham, North Carolina, gained its nickname, Bull City.”
Durham Station, North Carolina (Spring 1865)
John Ruffin Green walked with heavy resignation as he examined his ransacked tobacco factory, and recalled how excited he’d been when he’d purchased the factory from Robert Morris three years earlier. The students at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill had been very good purchasers of his tobacco, but most of these young men had left to fight for the South. The past few years had been devastating for people living in Orange County, mostly poor farmers growing corn, cotton and some tobacco. There were reports of famines throughout the state, with animals stolen and food crops taken by both armies. John knew that his loss at the factory was minor in the scheme of what had happened throughout the war. Durham Station had been a remote stop on a rural railroad, but it was now growing into a small hamlet based around tobacco production. It looked as if the war was coming to an end, and, God willing, perhaps life could return to some form of normality. John was aware that leaders of the two armies were meeting at Bennett Place, a few miles west of Durham Station. Having so many soldiers roaming and looting the local countryside, he knew it was only a matter of time before they found their way to his premises and steal his tobacco.
John could never have guessed that the outcome of his loss from this petty raiding would prove to be so serendipitous; he started to receive requests from far and wide asking him to send more of his amazing smoking tobacco. John had his work cut out to supply these demands and very soon realized that the success of his product had not gone unnoticed by other local tobacco producers.
Orange Hotel, Hillsborough, North Carolina (1865/1866)
James Whitted was late, and John Ruffin Green was getting agitated while he paced back and forth at the entrance to the Orange Hotel in Hillsborough. The war was over, and his friend James had returned to board at the hotel; it was clean and served good food. Hillsborough was connected by railroad from the East Coast through Raleigh. Fresh produce was brought into town regularly, something that could only be dreamed about during the past few years of war. John enjoyed James’ company; he had a good sense of humor and a sharp mind. Today, John was eager to discuss his concern of how to protect his tobacco product. Tobacco had been grown in Orange County in North Carolina before the war, but now it seemed that every piece of land was given up to growing tobacco, and competition was fast increasing. When James finally arrived, the two young men sat down to lunch. Fresh shellfish was on the menu, brought in from the coast that very morning. As the meal was brought to the table the pair started to discuss John’s pressing problem, and during the conversation, James picked up a container of Colman’s Durham mustard displaying an image of a bull’s head.
The outcome of this lunch was nothing short of an advertising epiphany; both men knew that this was no ordinary bull, but a Durham Bull, also known as a Durham Shorthorn, the Durham breed or just plain “Durhams.”
By 1865 Colman’s Mustard was a global product, and the company obtained the brand name and logo 10 years earlier in 1855. Durham mustard was invented in Durham, England, during the early 18th century by a lady remembered only as Mrs. Clements. Mrs. Clements had discovered that by grinding mustard seed in a manner similar to wheat being ground into flour, a hot and flavorsome mustard was achieved. This “Durham”-styled mustard became very popular in England, and by 1855, Colman’s of Norwich was producing it some 250 miles south of Durham City. Colman’s used an image of a Durham Shorthorn bull as part of the trademarked brand. This mustard continues to be sold throughout the world today, still displaying the Durham Shorthorn bull’s head, although the wording “Durham Mustard” has long since been removed.
During the early 19th century, the Durham Shorthorn became the most sought after breed of cattle throughout the world and was a recognizable ‘brand’ in its own right. Both John Ruffin Green and Colman’s of Norwich clearly appreciated the celebrity value of these Durham cattle to market their two unique and distinctive products.
Liverpool Docks, England (March 24, 1834)
Felix Renick and his two companions stood on the deck of their packet ship that had been their home for the past two months, as they sailed into the Liverpool docks in England. Felix was feeling his full 64 years; it had been an arduous journey since leaving Chillicothe, Ohio, three months earlier. Felix was traveling to England to purchase fresh breeding cattle and was here to represent the interest of the Ohio Company for Importing English Cattle. Felix had long proven himself as a cattleman; he was an early pioneer and explorer and was well known as a “breeder and feeder” of cattle. By 1834 the reputation of the Durham Shorthorn cattle had spread from England to Ohio, with just a few of this breed having made their way to the U.S. during the previous 20 years. Felix was going to Northern England to visit the original home of these cattle in the Teesdale valley in County Durham. Yet at that moment, all he wished for was to be on dry land. The crossing had been long and boring but they kept themselves occupied by preparing their own meals and reading. Once in Liverpool, Felix would make arrangements for the transportation of the cattle, which he would purchase during this visit, back to America. Once on land, the party of three made their way by stagecoach to Darlington, a small market town in County Durham, and the largest cattle market for the Durham Shorthorn breed in England. The men lodged at the Kings Head Hotel and that evening at dinner they would discover that Darlington was not only known for good cattle but one year earlier the first public steam train in the world had transported passengers 12 miles on railroad tracks between Darlington and neighboring town Stockton. Unknown to Felix and his companions at this time, within 10 years steam engines would be taking the world by storm and would accelerate the opening of the American Western frontier. The following day at the Darlington cattle mart, Felix and his companions met with Thomas Bates, the famed breeder of the Duchess line of the shorthorn breed of cattle. Thomas encouraged the American party to use his home as their headquarters while they searched for cattle to purchase, loaning them horses, which allowed the men to visit the many farms in the ancestral home of the shorthorn breed.
From this visit to England they sent home seven bulls and 12 heifers; these would be the first of many Durham Shorthorns to be shipped from England to America. The early 1800s represented the height of the industrial revolution in Britain, not least in the north of England, but a smaller, quieter revolution was taking place in the world of cattle breeding in Teesdale, the ancestral home to both the Durham Shorthorns, and the Neville Family. The domestication of animals had been happening since the beginning of civilization, but the intensive, selective breeding of farm animals for specific characteristics or traits such as increased milk or beef production was new. Farmers would have used cattle for meat, and to plow, pull carts and give milk, but during the late 18th century this changed when farmers in the north of England started intensive selective breeding of local land races of cattle, resulting in what was to become the Durham Shorthorn breed. One of the earliest examples of an “improved” bull from this intensive breeding program was the Durham Ox. This massive creature born in 1796 and weighing a staggering 2,600 pounds was exhibited throughout Great Britain, at a time when the term genetics hadn’t been conceived and 13 years before Charles Darwin was born. The success of the Durham Shorthorn breed and specifically their monetary value was fueled by the first “pedigree” herd book for cattle created by George Coates in 1822. Together the novel approach to breeding cattle and recording the provenance and lineage for each animal gave the individuals greater worth. Felix had to grapple with this novel idea that pedigree could retain value when purchasing cattle for his 50 shareholders in Ohio in 1834. Even though Felix recognized the weakness of too much inbreeding, he realized that cattle with a known pedigree would hold value for his shareholders and this was to be true for the following seventy or years and more.
New York Mills, Oneida County, New York (September 10, 1873)
The crowd of several thousand was getting restless. Lunch was over and it was time to commence with what was to become the greatest sale in the history of Durham Shorthorn cattle. During the 1860s, Durham Shorthorns were changing hands for large amounts of money from Argentina to Australia. The sale in New York Mills attracted the attention of wealthy ranchers, cattle fanciers, British landed gentry, and of course speculators, with the majority of onlookers coming just for the spectacle. The excitement rose as the first roan and white beast, the 2nd Duke of Oneida, was led into the ring, then silence as the auctioneer John R. Page started the bidding, which was fast and furious, and in no time 30 heads of cattle had been sold. Some of the British buyers expressed confusion about the exchange rate between the dollar and pound sterling, but they didn’t have time to quibble. There was madness in the air.
The herd being disposed of belonged to Samuel Campbell of New York state, a wealthy landowner. He had bought these cattle a few years earlier as an investment. Several of the animals being sold were the last of the Duchess line, a pedigree which could be traced directly to some of the original cattle used in the early breeding program of the Durham Shorthorns by Thomas Bates, whom Felix Renick met and had bought cattle from some 40 years earlier. The Duchess line of cattle was expected to achieve a high price, and Samuel would not be disappointed. For fear of losing cattle to the other bidders, the prices for many of these animals went beyond what was originally expected as the various parties egged each other on to continue raising their bids.
The 8th Duchess of Geneva walked into the pen. This 7-year-old beast was in calf, and one of the jewels the crowd had come to see. The bidding started. As it escalated, only two bidders were left in the game and it was an American versus a Brit. There was a collective intake of breath when Mr. Kellow, buying for a group of investors in England, agreed to pay an incredible $40,600, at a time when the average wage in America was less than $500 a year.
In today’s currency, this single cow was valued at close to a half million dollars. Unfortunately the 8th Duchess of Geneva dropped a stillborn calf and died not long after being sold, well before reaching British shores. Yet even with such incredible financial losses and uncertainty, the enthusiasm and economic interest in this breed did not dampen until the early part of the 20th century.
The Wild White Cattle, Chillingham Castle, Northern England (2016)
In 1834, Felix Renick came to the northeast of England to find the “best” Durham Shorthorns, yet the origin of the breed goes back further than the late 18th century. James Sinclair, in his book, “History of the Shorthorn Cattle” (1907), he discusses the origin of the breed.
Based on historical accounts, James concurs that the early Durham Shorthorns most likely originated from feral or old land races of cattle that roamed the landscapes of County Durham from the end of the Ice Age until the medieval period on the same land that was once owned and hunted by the Neville family. The wife of the 4th Duke of Cleveland, Lord of Raby Castle, wrote and had published “The Duchesses Handbook” in 1870, in which she makes reference to the Nevill Bull as the progenitor of the Durham Shorthorn Breed.
During medieval times, it was accepted practice that tenant farmers could graze or “stint” their domesticated cattle in the hunting parks of the landed gentry. Most certainly there would have been a flow of genes between feral and domesticated animals at this time, diluting the wild cattle gene pool. Yet still today in the north of England, a unique herd of wild, white cattle has survived and been preserved in a walled park at Chillingham Castle. There is minimal human contact with these archaic animals as they roam the enclosed park and breed naturally. Observing these animals from afar allows us to imagine a time where larger herds of wild cattle once freely roamed the hills and forests of northern England. Today, the only hunters of these creatures are tourists with cameras.
Durham, North Carolina (2016)
During the past few years there has been an astounding renaissance in Durham. I find it exciting to walk downtown and see the plethora of images of the Durham Bull representing a myriad of different businesses. After 150 years it seems that “Everyone Still Wants a Durham Bull” in the Bull City. This story is a reminder that were it not for the celebrity of the Durham Shorthorn cattle breed throughout the 19th century, the “Bull City” as such may not exist, at least in name. So as you eat your hot dog at a Durham Bulls baseball game or when you drink a pint of beer at Bull City Burger and Brewery, spare a thought to those wild cattle that once roamed the forests and hills of County Durham in the north of England.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Clare Owen, curator at Raby Castle Estate, for her interest in the story and help with uncovering the rare copy of “The Duchesses Handbook” (1870), published by William Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street, Charing Cross, London.
Thanks also the authors of the Quarterly Cross Newsletter at Durham who spiked the interest in this story.
