The Snuff Brush

by Douglas Fodge



If you ever dipped snuff or chewed tobacco and gotten sick as a result, then you probably never again had a desire to use the stuff. Years after the following event happened I tried both, got violently ill to my stomach and never again had a desire to use either of these forms of tobacco. Unfortunately, this wasn’t always the case with other members of my family, as the following tale shows.

Smokeless tobacco was available in two forms: chewing tobacco and snuff. The distinguishing differences between the two were texture and particle size. Chewing tobacco was either stringy or compressed into a block or plug, almost always moist, and often contained chocolate or vanilla flavoring. In the old days, flavors were added sparingly to most snuff. Snuff was sold as a finely ground, dry powder once available in 1 or 4.65 ounce containers. Both forms of smokeless tobacco required mixing with saliva. Chewing tobacco needed to be chewed, hence the name, to release the stimulating chemicals. All together hundreds of these chemicals were present, but tobacco was commonly known for the presence of nicotine, a very addictive substance.

Women who lived in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries were raised in a time when many young women, especially those in the southern USA, wished to experience the pleasures of tobacco like the men. Men often used snuff, chewing tobacco and also smoked – on occasion all at the same time! I recall in my teen years seeing a man using all three, and he removed only the cigarette to take a drink of water. I do not recall observing many women smoking cigarettes, but it was common to see elderly ladies using snuff. In rural Northeast Texas, this habit was not confined to race, nor gender, but it appeared to flourish mostly in white women. A large number of elderly women in my family used snuff, but most were deceased before I was born.

My grandmother, 1872 – 1960, was about 5’ 10” and had a full head of long blond hair. She was about 70 when I was born so I recall being entertained by an elderly lady. We called our grandmother by a shortened version of Grandma, Ma (pronounced phonetically in rural Texan as Maw). Ma was the most famous snuff dipper in our family, at least in my eyes. Like most grandmothers Ma had developed considerable skills in dealing with boys after rearing 3 of her own and handling my older brothers and numerous cousins. She applied this skill in getting me to help with her snuff use. This was my very first job and my first exposure to snuff dipping, a grand experience for a pre-schooler. The following event certainly had its impact on me as I recall it with surprising clarity nearly six decades later.

Ma used snuff by placing a pinch of the powdery stuff between her lower lip and gum, a habit absolutely approved of by me. Saliva rapidly mixed with the dry powder that led to the development of a paste. This was quite different than sniffing the dry powder into your nose, as practiced more widely in European countries. Once thoroughly mixed, the release and absorption of considerable quantities of nicotine occurred. Although the speed of release and absorption were fast, it was nowhere near the rate desired by the users. The lining of the mouth, mucosal cells and tissue, were the absorption sites for the snuff rather than the tongue. The snuff user could typically use a dip much longer than it took to smoke a cigarette, as there was an abundance of nicotine in the product.

Apparently, by swishing the paste in your mouth you could hasten the absorption process. The downside of swishing was that it could be messy and socially unappealing. Although it wasn’t common with Ma, I did observe a brown liquid dribbling out of the corners of several elderly ladies’ mouths, including at least one aunt. The liquor would run in rivulets down their chins. This was not very pleasant to observe, especially near dinnertime. In spite of the risk of developing an unacceptable appearance, Ma wanted a faster “hit” from the snuff, so the dipping process was altered. I am certain this desire was fueled by the exhiliration a snuff dipper felt when the extra nicotine contacted the nervous system. To change the process, local snuff dippers had developed a special tool, a brush, although the advent of the tool may not have been local at all. The brush was used to spread snuff carefully over the mucous membranes lining the inside of the mouth, and particularly the lower lip.

Long before my involvement, the one tool that was universally acclaimed, at least by the local ladies, was a brush fashioned from a small branch of an elm tree. Here my memory blurs a bit. There were plenty of trees in the area, including oak, persimmon, hickory, and other hardwood species, but a brush developed from an elm twig was what I remember as being most desirable. Of course, this was prior to the wide availability of plastic or plentiful Wal-Marts where brushes of all sizes and types could be had for a pittance.

Remarkably, the characteristics of elm trees that caused so many problems for woodsmen were the very qualities that snuff dippers needed – a little stick that wouldn’t break and splinter and that could be frayed on one end to make a small brush. I suppose that any of the other species would have worked also, but I was given specific instructions as to the kind of tree to seek.

My assignment in this adventure was to scamper up an elm tree and fetch a few small twigs (4 to 5 inches long and up to ¼ inch in diameter) from the uppermost limbs. I suspect that all the male youth of my family had preceded me with similar requests. Apparently, the best brushes were made from new growth at the end of branches in the springtime. Naturally, few 70-year-old women were likely to climb trees to get at the newly sprouted twigs. It was with great glee that I did this job.

I also got to watch as Ma prepared the twig for use. To prepare it, the bark was removed with her thumbnail from about 0.5 inch on one end of the twig, and then she rived the exposed wood with thumbnail and teeth. This process resulted in the development of a brush with fine, resilient fibers. The entire process of preparing the brush took no more than a few minutes. I was highly motivated by Ma, and I was very dedicated to being successful as a direct reflection of the importance she gave to it. Unfortunately the snuff brush and Ma are not present in my life, but in my earliest recollections the snuff brush was a high priority item to make, and it was worth its weight in gold, at least to a post-depression era kid with only one grandmother to please.