Andrew Urban’s Odyssey Ended in Quincy, Illinois

The man shown above standing on the back of a “photo montage” snapping turtle I assume is Andrew Urban, whose wanderlust took him from Germany to numerous occupations and locations in the American Midwest.  Urban was by turns a safe company employee in Cincinnati;  a brewery worker in Chillicothe, Ohio;  a farmer in Hancock County, Illinois;  a mill owner in Nauvoo, and a traveling salesman in Quincy.  Not until he was 56 years old did Andrew find his destiny in selling whiskey and thereby forging careers for four Urban sons.

Urban was born in Baden, Germany, in March 1830, the son of Andrew, a farmer, and Catherine Urban.  Educated in the schools of his homeland, he emigrated to the U.S. in 1855 at the age of 22 and went to work in Cincinnati for an uncle who owned a successful safe manufacturing company.  After being employed there for several years, Andrew exhibited the restless spirit that guided much of his life and moved to Chillicothe, located in south central Ohio along the Scioto River.

In Chillicothe, Urban worked in a brewery and met Katherine Baer, a native of the town, daughter of Mathew and Catherine Baer.  She was seven years younger and would bear him ten children, four of whom died in infancy.   Not long after their wedding Andrew pulled up stakes and with Katherine moved to Hancock County, located in far western Illinois. At that time he is said to have been virtually penniless.  A biographer observed:  “He borrowed money to make this trip, and this fact indicates somewhat his financial resources; but he possessed, instead of capital, a strong determination and resolute will.”  Beginning as an agricultural laborer, in time Urban acquired sufficient wealth to own three farms.  

Still looking for better opportunities for himself and his growing family, or perhaps obliging an enduring restlessness,  Urban left his farms in the hands of tenants and moved to nearby Nauvoo, Illinois, where he purchased the Ikerian Milling Company, operating it for eight years.  He was “swindled out of this property,” according to a biographer, who does not say how or why.  Dragging his family with him, that event propelled Urban 50 miles south to Quincy, shown above, where he went to work as a traveling salesman for a wholesale liquor establishment.  

By now well into his fifties, Urban saved sufficient funds to strike out on his own.  Taking his now-adult son, William, with him as a partner, about 1884 he created Andrew Urban & Son, a wholesale and retail enterprise selling whiskey, wine, and beer.   After an initial location at 239 North Third Street in Quincy, the Urbans moved their business to 639 Hampshire Street,   

Andrew had chosen a good place for his business.  Quincy boasted hundreds of saloons and, according to 1887 local directories, only three wholesale liquor houses, including the Urbans’.  Their retail business included a saloon, the interior shown on the comic postcard above.  The building also had room for the owners to blend and bottle their own brands, chief among them, “Urban Club Sour Mash Bourbon.”  They also featured “Lenox,” a blended whiskey from a Cincinnati distiller. 

Distinguishing the Urbans’ operation was their emphasis on “giveaway” advertising items, principally corkscrews and  shot glasses in several designs. Examples are shown throughout this post.  Most of these advertising items were aimed at the wholesale trade, including saloons, restaurants and hotels — wherever Urban liquor was being sold.  Retail customers were provided with heart-shaped trade tokens.  The tokens could be looped on a chain as good luck charms or exchanged for five cents worth of booze at Urbans’ bar.

Andrew Urban had only about 15 years to enjoy the success he had achieved following the many years of his odyssey.  In 1902, likely in declining health, he made his will, leaving everything to his wife, Katherine.  He died the following year at about 73 years old.  She sold his Hancock County farms but retained ownership of a large business block at the corner of Sixth and Hampshire Streets that included the Andrew Urban & Son store and saloon.  One of Andrew’s last requests, according to a biographer, was to implore his wife and sons to remain together associated in the liquor business, apparently hoping that after his wanderings he had prepared a secure future for them in Quincy. 

 

Nevertheless, the founding father’s death in 1903 caused an upheaval in the Urbans’ enterprise.   That same year son Gustav (Gus) Urban took over as the manager. His brother Theodore became the bookkeeper and another brother, Edward, was working as a traveling salesman for the firm.  Katherine moved into a flat above the store with Gus and his wife.  In subsequent years the three brothers were listed in directories as officers of the company.   By this time they all were married, Gus to Catherine, originally from Nauvoo;  Theodore, to Dora Taylor, and Edward to Minnie Sherman.

Meanwhile, possibly upset over the fact that his father bequest had ignored him, William had left Andrew Urban & Son to begin his own liquor store at 508 Hampshire, just a block from the family business.  His liquor house was first recorded in Quincy directories in 1906.  In the tradition of his father, William provided customers with giveaway shot glasses, shown here.  He was able to move his wife, the former Dorothea Bader, into a home at 1219 Hampshire, several blocks from his business address.

Prohibition came to Quincy in July, 1919, with local enforcement of a wartime emergency act on liquor sales.  “There will be no dram shops in Quincy because no saloon licenses be issued and all existing licenses will expire July 1.”  the Chief of Police declared, adding: “There will be no sale of intoxicants after midnight, Monday, June 30.”  At the time an estimated 50,000 gallons of whiskey were stored in the city’s three wholesale houses, including the Urbans'.  The local press said the stocks were “enough to float a battleship.”

Before the deadline a brisk business ensued.  The Urbans sold $5,500 worth of whiskey to one local and had an order for $2,500 from an out-of-town customer.  Another patron walked into Urbans asking: “Do you have any Hermitage whiskey on hand.”  “Yes,” replied Gus, thinking he wanted a bottle.  Instead, the man ordered 10 cases at $3.50 a quart.  Later a customer bought $5,000 worth of whiskey and another $3,000.  (To achieve equivalent outlays in today’s dollar multiply each number by 14.)

Despite such massive sales, the Urbans remained desperate to unload their flood of stored liquor.  During the two weeks preceding the deadline the steamship Keokuk, shown above, a stern-wheeler that hauled freight and passengers on the Mississippi, carried great quantities of whiskey and beer from the Urbans and other Quincy liquor dealers to towns upriver in Illinois and Missouri that were not yet “dry.”   As a last gasp, the family kept their store open until midnight of the final day. Then July 1, 1919, arrived and after 24 years Andrew Urban & Son shut its doors and permanently went out of business.

Thus ended the crowning success of Andrew Urban’s odyssey through life.  His biographer says of him:  “He was particularly a self-made man, for when he arrived in Hancock County, Illinois, he did not have five dollars.  He worked earnestly and persistently year after year until he had acquired a handsome competence.”   In the end, however, none of Urban’s exertions or those of his sons was sufficient to offset the prohibitionary “fever” gripping America.  

Note:  Much of the information contained herein, as well as most of the quoted material, is from the volume, “Past and Present of the City of Quincy and Adams County, Illinois,” by William H. Collins, Chicago, published in 1905.  

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.