Operating a liquor house in the small Pennsylvania town of Schuykill Haven, Wellington Hartman concocted and marketed his “Old Virginia Bitters,” asserting, among other claims, that it was “an infallible cure for all stomach troubles” and “a man restorer.” Nonetheless, his wife was judged to have died of a stomach ailment and Wellington himself — well, that story is best left for later.
Hartman was a native Pennsylvanian, born in 1854 of parents also native to the state. His early life has gone unrecorded. Wellington surfaced in the 1880 federal census living on St. Peter Street in Schuylkill Haven, a town of about 5,000 located six miles south of Pottsville and 90 miles north of Philadelphia. He was married to Esther Skean (also “Skeen”), born in Pennsylvania, the daughter of Edward and Hannah Adams Skean. The Hartmans had one daughter, Catherine. Wellington was working as a laborer.
Fast forward a decade. Obviously demonstrating a talent for business, Hartman in 1900 had graduated from physical labor to become proprietor of a drug store he called Gem Pharmacy. At the same time he was operating a saloon located on Schuylkill Haven’s Main Street, shown above, adjacent to the Pennsylvania Railroad depot. Now the family was living on Main Street, likely above one of the businesses.
In 1904, Hartman sold his pharmacy to an employee and went full bore into alcoholic spirits. An item in the local newspaper, “The Call,” told the story: “Mr. Hartman has for some time been manufacturing specialties for the drug and liquor trades and has recently established a wholesale liquor house and he retires from the retail drug business in order to devote his time to the manufacture and sale of his specialties….”
A photograph exists of Hartman’s “Family Liquor Store” that shows two men standing in the doorway. Given that Wellington would be middle-aged by 1904 my guess is that the gent at right is Hartman. Note too that the sign over the door vigorously promotes the former druggist’s “Old Virginia Bitters,” advertised as “Tonic, Appetizer, & Man Restorer.” The proprietor also was creating his own brands of whiskey and gin. 
Not a true distiller, Hartman was getting his alcoholic supplies from the many distilleries that dotted the Pennsylvania landscape. He was buying spirits by the barrel, blending it, and then selling it under his own proprietary labels. Shown here is a flask that held “Bo-Bo Whiskey, a blend that Hartman claimed, likely truthfully, was “compounded with straight rye whiskey and other grain distillates.” Less truthful was the claim that “Bo-Bo” was guaranteed under the National Food and Drugs Act of 1906. That act guaranteed nothing and, in fact, many officials considered a blend such as this one to be “artificial whiskey.” 
“Bob White Whiskey,” shown in a dark amber quart bottle, also was branded as a compound. Hartman made the same claim about the contents being guaranteed by food and drug legislation. Such statements enraged Dr. Harvey W. Wiley, first head of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, and he levied fines against those who used them, gradually ending such claims. 
As many liquor dealers did, Hartman issued giveaway items for favored customers. Among them were a finely etched shot glass for his Bob White Whisky, a pocket mirror advertising both flask and quart sized bottles of his “Pure Corn Gin,” and a cork screw bearing the name and address of his liquor house.
Hartman’s flagship, however, was neither of his whiskey brands but his “Old Virginia Bitters.” Highly alcoholic, bitters were considered “medicine” and as such taxed by federal authorities at a lower rate. Moreover, bitters were more acceptable to prohibition-leaning religious organizations. In 1880 both Wellington and his wife Esther, however, were “dismissed” from the Lutheran Church in Schuylkill Haven, possibly because Hartman was selling liquor. Later both were accepted into communion at St. John’s United Church of Christ.
Hartman advertised Old Virginia Bitters as: “An infallible cure for all stomach troubles. One wine glassful taken immediately before or an hour after meals will be a swift and certain cure for dyspepsia, indigestion, liver complaint, catarrh of the stomach, etc.” As comforting as those words might have been, the nostrum seems not to have been a “swift and certain cure” for the stomach ailments of Esther Hartman. When she died in 1907 at the age of 50, her death certificate put the cause as “acute indigestion.”
Hartman’s Old Virginia Bitters was touted as a “man restorer.” His pitch was: “Drink it plain or in whiskey three or four times a day, and you will feel like a new man. It is a fine bracer in the morning, builds up a broken down system in short order, is in fact a perfect restorer.” He also sold “Hartman’s Celery & Damiana Compound” another nostrum that, he said: “…Braces the nerve and gives you courage.” Damiana was an herb widely sold for prevention and treatment of sexual problems. It also was believed to be an aphrodisiac. The compound, like Hartman’s bitters, also provided a considerable alcoholic load. Both were advertised in a trade card that when opened revealed a risque’ scene.
Event suggested that Wellington may have been juicing himself liberally with both nostrums. Just six months after Esther’s death, he married again. His bride was Elizabeth M. Thompson, an 18-year-old local girl. Hartman was 53, a 37 year difference in age. Regardless of that disparity Hartman appears to have been up to the husbandly task. Ten month after the marriage Elizabeth gave birth to a son. They named him Wellington Junior.
This period also saw Hartman elected as the Chief Burgess of Schuylkill Haven. The chief burgess was the presiding officer of town council meetings, had a full voice and vote in all deliberations, and was also the chief executive charged with the preservation of order and administration of the borough government. Hartman appears to have been a strict “law and order” official, quick to arrest all offenders.
He himself, however, ran afoul of the law. A local merchant named Schumacher had a rain pipe on his store that extended over a sidewalk. Every time it rained the pipe, one that featured a large hole, drenched passersby. In line with his duties as burgess, Hartman went to the store and supervised removal of the pipe. Schumacher was irate, stormed to the burgess office, and strongly berated Hartman. The latter, possibly fueled by one of his male restorers, slugged Schumacher in the mouth. Unamused, the merchant hauled Hartman into court where a friendly judge called the charges trivial and dismissed the case.
Throughout his career in government Hartman, according to local business directories, also maintained his liquor house, shown here as it looked circa 1910. Although Pennsylvania was generally considered a “wet” state, it adopted a statewide ban making or selling liquor eleven months before the advent of National Prohibition. Likely understanding the situation, Hartman shut down his liquor house about 1918 and turned to manufacturing soft drinks.
Hartman was in Philadelphia when he died in November 1924, just short of his 70th birthday. His body was brought back to Schuylkill Haven and buried beside his first wife in Union Cemetery. A final revelation into the sex life of a man who made a fortune selling alcoholic “man restorers” is offered by Hartman’s death certificate. After an inquest into the whiskey man’s demise the Philadelphia coroner gave his verdict on its cause: “chronic syphilis.” This conclusion suggests that upon occasion Wellington Hartman might have become over-stimulated on his own nostrums and wandered off course.
Note: In November 2013 Ferdinand Meyer V, immediate past president of the Federation of Historical Bottle Collectors, featured on his “Peachtree Glass” website an article on Hartman’s Old Virginia Bitters. Ferd took much of his information and illustrations from the Schuylkill Haven History Web Page maintained by Richard J. Nagle. While trying to give Hartman’s story a somewhat more personal treatment, I have borrowed from — and thank — both.
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