Showing posts with label Latonia Distillery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Latonia Distillery. Show all posts

Saturday, November 19, 2016

William McRoberts: A Story in Five F’s

Escaping a brutal famine in Ireland, bringing slaves to freedom, experiencing two family tragedies while rising to become among America’s most notable distillers, while experiencing disastrous fires, and subsequently facing financial struggles, William McRoberts lived the kind of story from which novels are made.  


Famine: McRoberts was born in 1824 in Dundonald, County Down, now Northern Ireland, the bucolic village shown above located not far from Belfast.  His parents were William McRoberts Sr., the son of John McRoberts and Margaret McLean, and Anna Moore, a daughter of Robin Moore.  The family home was at Ballyoran.  Shown right, the McRoberts house was a substantial ivy-covered residence bespeaking some affluence.  Surrounded by six brothers and sisters, William likely knew a relatively tranquil childhood.

That picture changed abruptly in the 1840s while McRoberts was still in his teens.  The failure of the potato crop, the primary food staple of the Irish people, caused widespread starvation, death, and massive migration from the Emerald Isle.  The McRoberts family is said to have scattered over the world to Canada, the U.S. and Australia.  William was among those who came to America, likely aboard one of the so-called “famine ships,” that crammed hundreds of people into cramped spaces for a rough two-weeks on the Atlantic.  He eventually found his way to Cincinnati.

Freedom:  When McRoberts next surfaced in the public record he was working for a Cincinnati wholesale liquor house known as Boyle, Miller & Company.  Steven S. Boyle, like McRoberts, was an immigrant from Ireland. About 1853 he gave young William a job as a “drayman,” driving a horse-drawn wagon.  In this role McRoberts became a cog in the “Underground Railroad,” smuggling escaping slaves to freedom in the North and safety in Canada.

A key to freedom was crossing the border of slave states; the Ohio River was a major objective.  By the first decades of the 1800s, every state in the North had legally abolished slavery, including border states like Ohio, Indiana and Illinois.  Ohio had the most active escape network with around 3,000 miles of routes used by runaways.  It also was the closest state to Canada with only about 250 miles from the Kentucky border to Lake Erie and safety.

People who guided slaves from place to place were called “conductors.”  McRoberts was a conductor with excellent opportunities. Among his duties was traveling by horse and wagon over the Ohio River to nearby distilleries in Kentucky, bringing barrels of whiskey back to Cincinnati.  Somewhere on his return McRoberts would halt his team and another conductor would help him load a slave, or perhaps two, into whiskey barrels that he would then cart back across the river and offload at Boyle Miller.  After dark, the escapees would be spirited up to another “station” likely at Auburn Hills, Ohio, on the way to Canada.

What was McRoberts motivation?  My first assumption is that Steven Boyle was aware of the gambit and approved.  Both men were taking a risk. Boyle could have had his wagon, horses and cargo confiscated.  McRoberts would have faced fines, jail, and possible physical harm if caught.    William’s wife, Mary Harriet Conway, may have been an abolitionist influence. He had married her in Cincinnati in 1850, a Presbyterian minister presiding.  Recorded as Boyle’s drayman from 1853 to 1859, McRoberts had the opportunity to assist dozens of escapees until the outbreak of the Civil War that eventually ended the need for the “Railroad.”

Family:  The 1860 census found William, with his Irish-born wife, Mary Harriet Conway, living in Cincinnati with four children, three girls and a boy, ages 9 to 1; a fifth child, a boy, would be born later that year.  With them was William Conway, 14, attending school, a younger brother of Mary Harriet.  William’s occupation was given in the census as “clerk,” having been raised by Boyle to a position inside his whiskey operation.  By the following year, the obviously talented McRoberts had been moved up to foreman. He also must have been investing in the distillery.  Upon Boyle’s death in 1865 McRoberts became its principal owner in partnership with Hamilton Miller.

When the Civil War ended McRoberts wasted no time in expanding his distilling activities.  He built a second distillery near Latonia Station, on the Louisville Short Line & Kentucky Central Railroads, located about four miles south of Cincinnati.  Known on Federal rolls as RD #2, 6th District of Kentucky, McRoberts designated this plant the Willow Run Distillery. Much later he installed his son-in-law, Thomas Hewitt, as the manager. Under the leadership of McRoberts, who has been described as a “master distiller,” the fortunes of Boyle, Miller continued to rise.

Amid all this success, there was tragedy.  In January 1864 the McRoberts’ youngest daughter, Harriet only five years old, died of burns and was buried in Sec. 46, Lot 23, Spring Grove Cemetery.  Not long after, the date uncertain, Mary Harriet herself died, her burial place still unidentified.  This left William with four children under the age of 16 to care for.  Seemingly looking for a mother for his brood, he remarried in 1866.

McRoberts’ second wife was Ellen “Ella” Barker, the daughter of a highly privileged family from Peoria, Illinois.  Nineteen years younger than her husband, Ella had been sent to the exclusive Maplewood School for young ladies in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, and was accustomed to spending summers at a seaside cottage near Boston.  William may have met her through her father, Gardner Thurston Barker, a well-established Peoria distiller.  After the marriage Barker made McRoberts a partner in his company.  The couple would have two children of their own, both boys.  When his eldest son from Harriet Conway, Gavinus, came of age, William brought him into the distillery business.

In 1867  McRoberts bought seven acres on Grandin Road in the Walnut Hills area of Cincinnati.  There for $30,000 ($750,000 today) he built a large home for Ella and the children on what would become known as Cincinnati’s “Millionaires Row.”  As can be seen above, it was a spacious dwelling with a large wrap-around porch, doric columns and a mansard roof, forming a very attractive residential dwelling. 

Fire:  Fire was an ever present problem for liquor enterprises.  While McRoberts was still working as a drayman, a serious fire broke out at Boyle’s Wholesale Liquors, located at 53 East Second Street, recorded by the Cincinnati Firefighters Diary.  The loss from this blaze was set at $150,000, equivalent to more than $3.5 million today and three firefighters were hurt.  Without any real proof, it occurs to me that this fire could have been set.  Southern sympathizers called “Copperheads” were rife in Cincinnati and, if they had known about the company help to escaping slaves, might well have torched the building.

Just after Christmas 1867, with McRoberts in charge, fire visited the premises of the distillery, destroying the plant.  Its storage areas held 9,000 barrels of highly inflammable whiskey that fueled a fire so intense that the stone walls of the building crumbled.  The Spencer House hotel at the rear was seriously threatened but saved by fire crews. One firefighter was injured. The loss to McRoberts and his partner was set at $450,000, equivalent to more than $9 million today.  Although insurance paid $200,000, the remainder came from the owners’ pockets. 

Undeterred by this setback,  McRoberts immediately began to rebuild.  Only a few months later a newsman from the Cincinnati National Union visited the site and reported that:  “This establishment has, Phoenix-like, arisen from its ashes and is again in full blast and in complete running order.”  Introduced to McRoberts, who possibly escorted him through the distillery, the journalist was shown a enormous still in operation, the first of three scheduled to be installed.  He reported that the stills would make Boyle, Miller “the most extensive distillery in the United States.”

The reporter paid particular attention to the problem of fire:  “Although this portion of the building cannot be said to fire proof, extra and unusual precautions have been taken in its erection against probable fire.”  Among these were pipes in the walls extending from the first to fourth floors,a few feet apart. The ideas was that flames would be drawn through them like chimneys and escape at the top without injury to the walls.

Financial Struggles:  Those precautions proved unavailing.  In 1869 Boyle, Miller suffered a second major fire, again with great monetary loss.  This time McRoberts lacked the resources to rebuild.  He sought to recoup from the Federal government the amount he already had paid in taxes for the now destroyed whiskey, but was refused.  Prior to passage of the Bottled-in-Bond Act of 1897, distillers were taxed on product immediately after it was put in barrels and stored for aging.   Such taxes were a principal sources of federal revenue until a national income tax was imposed in 1913.  Eventually McRoberts sued in Federal Court for a refund.

Authorities were highly skeptical about claims from distillers experiencing fires.  In some cases, owners had been known clandestinely to cart their barrels to a new location, torch their plant, and ask for a refund on taxes paid.  While no such suspicion fell on McRoberts, the situation could lead to high tension.  In 1870 a Federal liquor gauger/inspector named Mohan had a confrontation with McRoberts, attacked him with a knife and was arrested.

Meanwhile, the Northern Irish immigrant was struggling financially.  By 1871, McRoberts’ partnership with Hamilton Miller had been dissolved and Boyle, Miller & Co. ceased being listed Cincinnati directories.  The same year he sold his Walnut Hill mansion and an indeterminate amount of acreage for what appears to  have been a “bargain basement” price,  With a partner named Todd, he retreated to Boyle’s former location at 53-55 East Second Street, running both a liquor store and a second enterprise, W. McRoberts & Co., listed as manufacturers of coloring and flavoring for liquors.  All the while he was paying lawyers in a vain attempt to retrieve his whiskey tax.

According to a descendant, during this period of financial struggle, Ella McRoberts began to spend more and more time in Peoria with her parents.  At some point she left for good, taking her two sons with her.  Whatever the emotional toll of this desertion, it pales with the suffering McRoberts met in July 1875.  While boarding a train he lost his footing and fell under the car.  The wheels passed over his leg and abdomen in what appeared to be a fatal accident.  McRoberts, however, survived almost five months with his injuries, dying at his home on McMillan Street in January 1876 at the age of 52.

His funeral was held at home, arranged by Thomas Hewitt and a friend and liquor dealer, Edmund Amann,   The Members of the Walnut Hills Knights of Pythias held a special ceremony in honor of their brother member the same day at their Castle Hall.
While his family and friends gathered at his graveside McRoberts was laid to rest in Section 46, Lot 23, of Spring Grove Cemetery not far from his daughter Harriet.  The family monument is shown here.

It is unclear whether Ella returned to Cincinnati for his funeral.  McRobert’s obituary makes no mention of her.  She continued to live in Peoria for the rest of her life, never remarrying, raising her sons and being active in community affairs until she died in 1923 and was buried near her parents.  With William’s death the family settled the long-running dispute with the federal government over the tax issue.

Within the space of a single vignette, it is scarcely possible to reflect the full character of an individual.  The years between McRobert’s arrival in the U.S. and working for Boyle in Cincinnati are largely a blank.  There are no clues to how William worked his way up from drayman to owner in just six years, or clues to his evident business sense and entrepreneurship.  It is unclear whether his financial struggles of the 1870s should be laid to the aftermath of the fire, to effects of the Panic of 1873, or to some other cause.  What we know of McRoberts, particularly his audacity and courage in helping escaping slaves, makes us want to know more.

Note:  This post was researched from a wide number of resources.  A vignette on the Amanns of Cincinnati can be found on May 6, 2017.



























Thursday, December 10, 2015

Nudity, Prudery, Tippecanoe — and Jake Pfeffer Too!

Nudity sells.  Not just in today’s marketplace but also in pre-Prohibition times. Then the principal expression was through whiskey advertising signs that were designed for use in all-male drinking establishments.  One of the most popular of saloon signs was for Tippecanoe Whiskey and Jake Pfeffer of Cincinnati was the distributor.

The Tippecanoe sign, shown below, disclosed an Indian maiden paddling a canoe with her breasts uncovered and very prominent.  She is shown in a landscape of water and vegetation that bespeaks of pristine nature and unsullied wilderness.  That image reenforces the labels asserting that this Kentucky whisky is “medicinally pure” and “recommended by physicians.”


Colorful and eye-catching, the sign had been lithographed on tin, giving it permanence.  Note the holes in each corner.  They allowed the saloonkeeper to tack it above his bar or on a prominent wall.  The same nude image also was available on color lithographed paper, tastefully framed as shown below.

The Native American beauty also appeared at the bottom of a shot glass,  bare chested, again the work of Jacob J. Pfeffer.  This item would have been prominent on a bar.  A patron who was served a shot of whiskey, could knock it down, look down upon this buxom lass — and perhaps order another.  But nudity on wall signs and shot glasses were items for inside the saloon, a place where women, and particularly women of gentility, were never to be seen — often not allowed.

Pfeffer employed a different standard, some might contend a prudish (or hypocritical) standard for Tippecanoe images that might be seen by the general public.   Thus the paper label of a Tippecanoe flask he issued showed the same Indian maiden and the same landscape, but — lo!” — the lady was all covered up.  Even the most easily scandalized would find little to fault if they saw a bottled of whiskey sitting on a drugstore or grocery shelf that bore that image.

Although he claimed proprietorship of Tippecanoe “Double Fire Copper” Whiskey,  Pfeffer was in fact the merchandiser, not the originator of the brand.  The source was the Union Distilling Company, located in Cincinnati, that had adopted the motto “None Better.”  This organization advertised as distillers but evidence is that it was getting its whiskey from Kentucky, including the Latonia Distillery in Kenton County.  Union Distilling almost certainly was a wholesaler and “rectifier,” that is blending and mixing raw whiskeys to achieve certain taste and color.  Like most dealers of this class, Union Distilling featured a blizzard of brands, using supplies from multiple sources and  then slapping on its own proprietary labels.  Among its brands  was “Tippecanoe,” a name it trademarked in 1905.

An arrangement by an outfit like Union Distilling with a distributor like Jacob Pfeffer for Tippecanoe Whiskey would not have been unusual.  The advantage to Union Distilling was that it could count on aggressive promotion of its whiskey without bearing marketing costs.  To Pfeffer it meant that he had a quality whiskey to sell that bore his imprint without being required to worry about from whence raw liquor supplies might be coming. 

Pfeffer had established his liquor business in Cincinnati in 1876, according to city business directories, the same year the German national became a citizen.  His first address was at 733 Freeman Street but he soon moved to the southwest corner of Eighth and Depot in the 21st Ward.  From there Pfeffer moved to Gest Street, a major Cincinnati thoroughfare that loops around the downtown.  After three moves on Gest, the company in 1898 moved to 1216-1220 Gest where it remained for twenty years.  In 1905 he incorporated the business as the Jacob J. Pfeffer Company and installed himself as president and manager.  Andrew Hochstrasser was named secretary-treasurer.

Born in February 1853 in Endingen, Baden-Wurttemburg, Germany, Pfeffer had emigrated from his native Germany to the United States in 1870, when he was about 17.  That was an age when many German boys left home.  At eighteen years they could be drafted into the Prussian army where many recruits died in basic training.  Jacob sailed on the steamship, Hamburg, into New York City and headed for Cincinnati, a city known for its strong German population and culture.  My assumption is that he early went to work for one of the city’s many whiskey wholesalers, learning the trade.  

The same year that he founded his business, Jacob found a wife.  She was Margaretha (sometimes given as Marquerite), a woman slightly older than he was, who also had been born in Germany.  They had one child, Regina, born in 1879.  At a relatively young age, Margaretha died in 1901.  Sometime during that same decade Jacob remarried.  This time his wife was Henrietta Marie Schorr, born in Ohio and 12 years younger than he.  In 1910 Jacob and Henrietta traveled to Germany together.  Among Pfeffer’s sales products in Cincinnati were German wines and the trip may have been on business as much as a honeymoon. 

Meanwhile, Pfeffer was vigorously promoting his whiskey.  Like other liquor wholesalers, he was advertising his flagship brand by giveaway items to favored customers, like saloonkeeper and restaurant owners.  The gifts included advertising shot glasses and back-of-the-bar bottles, such as the damaged one shown here.  A unusual item was a bartender’s stirring spoon, with “Tippecanoe” etched in the bowl and Pfeffer’s name on the handle.

Pfeffer also was featuring other United Distilling products in his advertising, including “Zeno” and “Lenox,” trademarked respectively in 1905 and 1906.  He issued a tip tray that featured those brands, along with Tippecanoe Whiskey.  Note that any hint of nudity had vanished from his advertising.  In its place was a sweet-faced little tyke, the picture of innocence and purity.

Pfeffer never got to enjoy the fruits of his endeavors in retirement.  He was still working at the head of his company when he died in 1913, sixty years of age.  He was buried in Cincinnati, not far from his first wife. The Pfeffer plinth and his gravestone are shown here.  The business he had created continued under the management of Andrew Hochstrasser until 1918, apparently a casualty of the statewide ban on alcohol sales in Ohio.  

One last thought on Jacob Pfeffer:  By dying early he missed the imposition of National Prohibition that closed saloons but opened speakeasies, where women were welcome.  With Repeal, women were allowed in barrooms everywhere and one by one the nude saloon signs came down in drinking establishment all over America.   By clothing his Tippecanoe maiden, it would appear,  Pfeffer was not being prudish — just prudent.