Distiller S.T. Suit and “The Alabama Claims”

S.T. Suit

Whiskey baron Samuel Taylor (S. T.) Suit whose distillery and mansion sat in what is now Suitland, Maryland, adjacent to the District of Columbia, was an early example of a “Washington insider,” wining and dining Presidents, members of Congress, and high Executive Branch officials. Although a past post (see August 4, 2011) described Suit’s life and loves in detail, one event in which he played a pivotal role was omitted. Suit was responsible for the venue of negotiations that helped settle a prolonged legal battle between the United States and England in the wake of the Civil War. 

Throughout his career Suit was a man with a keen eye for political clout and ingratiated himself with the power brokers of his time. Colorful trade cards for his whiskey focussed on of Washington, D.C. One shown here speaks of “fine Kentucky whiskey,” but shows the U.S. Capitol, including the back of a toga clad George Washington statue that once stood there.  Suit used a second view of the Capital as his letterhead and on ads.

Suit matched them with two colorful trade cards of the U.S. Congress in session, Senate and House of Representatives, looking much as they did in his time. It may be assumed that Suit himself frequently was in the gallery or to be found chatting in the members’ lobbies. 

 

The Maryland distiller did not come empty handed to the Congress and Suit’s whiskey containers were said to be a frequent sight in the U.S. Capitol. His gifting made him a welcome figure in those hallowed halls. He also made sure his whiskey was sold in the finest Washington D.C. hotels where many senators and congressmen spent  their leisure hours.

Suit’s push for influence in the Nation’s Capital paid off in several ways. One trade card provided testimonials for the strength and purity of his whiskey from two District of Columbia officials, the president of the DC Board of Health and an Health Department medical officer. The latter asserted: “Physicians will appreciate how important it is to their success in the treatment of diseases, as well as to the patient, that the stimulants they prescribe should be of a standard and unvarying quality, which desideratum Col. Suit’s liquors appear to fill.” 

The canny distiller also used his influence to convince federal officials to built a road from Washington to his estate, known today as Suitland Parkway, and he lobbied successfully for a U.S. post office to be authorized for Suitland when it was largely a rural community and had few residents.  Suit’s lavish entertainment of top government officials, including Presidents Ulysses S. Grant and Rutherford B. Hayes, frequently was noted in Washington newspapers. Likely it was this hospitality that caused Suit’s mansion to be chosen for the conduct of the most sensitive negotiations with England since the War of 1812. 

The dispute concerned warships built in Britain and sold to the Confederacy during the Civil War. Although the British Foreign Enlistment Act of 1819 had forbidden the construction of foreign warships, the South was still able to evade the letter of the law and purchase a number of cruisers from Britain. Confederate warships destroyed or captured more than 250 American merchant ships and caused their owners to covert 700 more vessels to foreign flags. By the end of the war, the U.S. Merchant Marine had lost half its ships.

The most famous of those marauding vessels was the CSS Alabama, shown above left being sunk in battle by the USS Kearsarge  Before its end, however, the Alabama had done significant damage to the American merchant fleet.  Less famous was the CSS Florida, right, that attacked Yankee ships in the South Atlantic until it was captured and disabled off the coast of Brazil. Both vessels figured importantly in the legal wrangling.

Powerful forces in Washington howled for retribution in what became known as “The Alabama Claims.” Senator Charles Sumner, chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, wanted $2 billion in damages ($50 billion in today’s dollar), or alternatively, the ceding of all Canada to the United States. Secretary of State Seward was more generous. He suggested the U.S. being given only British Columbia. Other important Yankees coveted Nova Scotia as compensation.  Those became known as “indirect claims.”  Translation:  Not money, just lots of territory.

Public and Congressional fervor over annexing parts of Canada caused the British to stall negotiations for many months after the end of hostilities. Finally in 1870 President Ulysses S. Grant sought to end the dispute through diplomatic talks. To save face, the Washington powers insisted that an initial agreement had to be negotiated on U.S. soil. But where? Grant apparently remembered Suit’s ample food and drink, including his excellent whiskey, and decided that the Suitland estate in nearby Maryland was just the place for American and British diplomats to hammer out the details, as depicted below. 

Suit himself apparently was delighted with the choice of his home and played genial host throughout the deliberations.  He also insured that his whiskey was readily available to help “lubricate” the discussions. The resulting agreement became known as the Treaty of Washington. A sticking point, however, continued to be the lust for all or part of Canada by important American political figures.  When the deliberations also failed to settle the amount of recompense for damage to American ships, the two sides agreed to referring monetary compensation to an international third party tribunal, thus breaking new ground in international dispute resolution.

Negotiating the Treaty of Washington

The British, however, strongly refused to recognize the validity of territorial demands. The dispute remained unsettled until 1871,when the “Alabama claims” at last was referred to an arbitration tribunal convened in Geneva, Switzerland.  The international arbitrators threw out the so-called “indirect” claims and awarded the United States $15.5 million for verifiable losses to shipping caused by the Confederate warships. The British, knowing a good deal when they saw it, quickly agreed to pay up.  Adjusted for inflation, the settlement would be the equivalent of $400 million today.

The highly popular American magazine, Harper’s Weekly, ran a front page cartoon of the Geneva proceedings, indicating disappointment that the award had not been larger.  Uncle Sam is shown addressing the tribunal of judges, pictured as a group of overweight and seemingly distracted Europeans.  The symbol of America clearly is disappointed with the outcome, warning the judges that the precedent set by their decision might be used to American advantage in the future:  "Sour grapes" are barely disguised.

The Geneva Tribunal

S.T. Suit, the Washington insider, had etched his name in the history books. Sadly his mansion burned to the ground several years later and was never rebuilt. The Treaty of Washington, it should be noted, has been cited by legal scholars during ensuing years as establishing the principle of third party arbitration, fostering international law and a precursor to the Hague Convention, the World Court and even the United Nations.

Triumphs and Tragedies of Louisville’s Nathan Block

 

By the time Nathan Block entered the Louisville liquor trade in the late 1870s, the Kentucky city was fast becoming the whiskey capital of America.  Competition was intense.  Finding a marketing niche was challenging.  While others were championing low cost booze, Block chose to aim high.  Thus he is remembered and honored as a broker, wholesaler and ultimately distiller who promoted and sold the finest in Kentucky bottled-in-bond whiskeys.  At the same time, however, Block’s life was plagued by setbacks and family tragedies.

Block was born in Bavaria in August 1844, a state in the Germany where Jews regularly had faced discrimination.  Two years before his birth all Jews had been expelled from the province of Upper Bavaria.  This persecution may have led his father, Moses, to emigrate with the Block family to the United State when Nathan was ten years old, settling in Louisville. The father built a productive life in America for his children, insuring that they were given good educations. It was said that:  “With an unrelenting work ethic, his father, Moses, instilled in [Nathan] the belief that anything was possible if you were willing to work hard enough for it.”

 Upon achieving maturity Nathan initially worked in the wholesale dry goods business.  He soon tired of that occupation and abandoned lingerie for liquor.  In 1875 with his younger brother, Joseph, and a friend, Emile Franck, they established a whiskey brokerage firm, buying from quality Kentucky distillers and selling to liquor dealers in some 29 states coast to coast under the name Block, Franck & Company.

An 1888 publication, “The Industries of Louisville and of New Albany, Ind.” referred to the partners as: “Composed of active, energetic young men, and every member travels from one year end to the other….”  As brokers, Block and his partners specialized in selling top shelf bourbon, reputed to be able to supply the best whiskey available in Kentucky:  “This house deals only in goods in bond, and all shipments are made directly from bonded warehouse, thus assuring to the trade that the whiskies are perfectly straight, the most desirable feature for retailers buying their goods.”  For a time the brokerage operated from an office in the Columbia Building, Louisville second tallest structure, shown here.

Frustrations over obtaining sufficient quality product may have moved Block, Franck to expand into a full-fledged wholesale liquor operation located at 205 West Main Street on Louisville’s famed “Whiskey Row.” There the partners also featured proprietary brands of whiskey, likely blended in their own quarters.  Their whiskeys included “Kentucky Oaks,” “Kentucky Derby,” ”Tremont,” and “Gold Dust.”  Their flagship brand appears to have been “Old Thoroughbred Rye,” shown below in a flask and back-of-the-bar bottle.  Although it is claimed that the partners registered their brand names under the trademark laws, I can find no evidence.

The Bernheim Brothers

As with many liquor wholesalers, the problem of securing sufficient quality whiskey was a continuing problem for Block as the demand for his bourbon grew.  Seeking to buy at least a share of his own distillery, he found an opportunity when the Pleasure Ridge Park Distillery came on the market.  That distillery had been built by F. G. Paine on the  Dixie Highway adjacent to the Newport News & Mississippi Valley Railroad about eleven miles from downtown Louisville.  To afford the property Block joined in a partnership with the Bernheim Brothers who already owned a highly successful distillery in the city. [See my post of December 10, 2014.] Bernard Bernheim became president;  Block was vice president.

With a capacity of producing 10,000 gallons of liquor per day, the Pleasure Ridge Park Distillery was able to turn out ample quantities of premier Kentucky whiskey, both bourbon and rye.  Having an assured supply of superior product from a distillery already known for quality, Block must have been euphoric as he contemplated the future.  Shown below is an ad depicting the distillery and listing its prime brands.

 

In March 1896, however, disaster struck while Block was away on a sales trip to New Orleans.  Fire destroyed a warehouse that contained an estimated 30,000 barrels of whiskey.  It started as an ember from a smokestack that landed on the roof of one of the warehouses. In less than ten minutes, the flames spread to the barrels aging on the upper floor, causing them to explode.  Flaming whiskey flew everywhere. The building collapsed.  Surrounding ditches overflowed with liquor as the adjacent landscape was inundated.  The nearby distillery structure itself luckily remained intact.

The Bernheims’ losses were moderate and covered by insurance. The bulk of the whiskey destroyed was in the name of Nathan who as a result was hit hard financially.  Moreover, the federal government claimed that the partners owed almost a million dollars (some $30 million today) in taxes on the lost liquor.  A few distillers had attempted to scam the feds by staging phony fires while their whiskey was stashed elsewhere. The government seemingly was taking no chances.

At great expense Nathan and his partners fought the fine in court for almost a year. The day before Thanksgiving in 1897, the Secretary of the Treasury canceled the bond, forgave the tax, and, in effect, freed Block and the Bernheims of any further liability.  In the meantime the Bernheims had built a completely new distillery at Seventh Street and Bernheim Lane in Louisville.  They sold their interest in the subsequently restored Pleasure Ridge Park Distillery to Block. 

To quote one observer: “While many a lesser spirit might have thrown in the towel, it was not in his nature. From the ashes he lifted himself, soon turning calamity to victory with the acquisition of the newly rebuilt distillery. At long last, Nathan Block had finally become the sole owner of his own distillery; a bourbon king of his own making!”  Block celebrated by adding two more brands to his offerings, “Kentucky Cornflower” and “University Club.”

Block also was distinguishing himself by community involvement.  He was president of the Standard Club, a Louisville golf course; a past master of the St. George Lodge, Free and Accepted Masons, and a member of the  the Commercial Club and Louisville Board of Trade.  Much of his effort was devoted to his Jewish heritage as president of the Temple Adath Israel congregation in the early 1890s and active in the charity work of the Hebrew Relief Society.

Throughout his early years Block had also found time for a personal life. In 1870, he had married Clara Gotthelf, a local girl.  Clara was 21; Nathan was 26.  They would go on to have a family of seven children, four daughters and three sons, all born between 1871 and 1889.  As his boys, Joseph and Bernard, advanced to maturity, Block brought them into his liquor business, eventually changing the name to Block & Sons Company.  Having suffered from asthma and other infirmities for years, in 1903 at age 59 Block retired from the enterprises he had built and left them to the management of his two sons.  If Block looked forward to a comfortable and trouble free retirement, however, that was not to be.

In 1907 after 37 years of marriage, Block’s wife Clara died, 56 years old.  A year later his eldest son Joseph, 35, the heir apparent to the Block liquor dynasty, was dead by his own hand.  For about five months before his suicide Joseph had suffered from depression, said in part brought on by his mother’s death and had been being treated at a mental hospital in Philadelphia.  On the day of his suicide Joseph gave no hint of what was to come. He went to the bathroom adjacent to his office, locked the door, took out a .38 revolver, stood in front of a mirror, and fired a bullet into his right temple.  In addition to a grieving father, Joseph left behind his widow, Cora, and two young children.  His brother Bernard assumed management of the distillery.

Block’s “tragedies” were not destined to end there.  Seven years after Joseph’s suicide, his youngest son, Walter, only 26 and unmarried, who had been troubled with ill health from adolescence, in 1915 repeated his brother’s deed.  While living at home with his father, Walter fatally shot himself, again standing before a mirror.  He was buried in Adath Israel Cemetery next to his brother and mother.  

The patriarch himself would die of natural causes at home two years later.  Block was 73 years old and joined family members at Adath Israel.  The family monument and his gravestone are shown below.  Block left an estate worth more than $3,000,000 in today’s dollar.  His will gave bequests to his children, grandchildren and several Jewish charities.

Block’s legacy has been summarized by one whiskey guru this way: “…He had indelibly left his mark in the annals of bourbon history.  Block's whiskey brands continued to enjoy robust national distribution via his son’s aptly named “Block Bros” whiskey wholesale and brokerage business for nearly 20 years until the onset of Prohibition.”

Note:  This post has been made possible by three principal sources.  The 1886 publication, The Industries of Louisville, etc., provided details of Block’s early days in business.  “Block, Our Story” from an organization reviving the brand online filed in distillery details and is the source of the quote that ends this vignette.  The 2021 book, Bluegrass Bourbon Barons, by Byron S. Bush devotes a chapter to Block and is the source of  information on his sons’ suicides. 

 

 

“Paddy” Graydon: Soldier, Saloonkeeper, & “Fearless Leader”

Born in Northern Ireland, James “Paddy” Graydon became a noted figure in the American West who confronted rampaging Indians, Confederate soldiers and gun-toting outlaws during a single violent decade (1853-1863) punctuated by his running an Arizona drinking establishment and hotel the locals called Casa Blanca.  The Graydon saga ended when he was killed by a bullet fired by a U.S. Army surgeon.

Graydon was born in 1832, the son of William and Mary McConnell Graydon, in the impoverished Northern Irish village of Lisnakea, adjacent to the town of Enniskillen, County Fermanaugh.  As a boy he witnessed two calamities, the early death of his father and the beginning of the Irish Potato Famine during which an estimated million people died.   As soon as he reached maturity, Graydon took passage for America, arriving in Baltimore early in 1853.

“A fine lookin’ lad” at five feet, seven inches tall, blue eyes, brown hair, and a fair complexion, Graydon applied for and was accepted in the First Dragoons, an elite U.S. Army regiment, shown here.  He was sent for training at Carlisle Barracks in Pennsylvania and then ordered to the New Mexico Territory.  The trip was an arduous one, involving crossing the Appalachians on foot, then boarding a steamboat to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas Territory.  There began a 750 mile foot march on the Santa Fe Trail to the New Mexico Territory.  

Arriving in Santa Fe in August 1853, Private Graydon was deployed to Company G, stationed at a small outpost called Fort Buchanan.  His next five years would be full of action as the dragoons were summoned frequently to deal with marauding Indian bands menacing settlers.  Raised to corporal, the Irish youth apparently tired of being constantly on the move and applied for a discharge.  It was granted in April 1858.

Entranced with the Desert Southwest, Graydon, now 26, decided to stay and try his hand at running a saloon and hostelry.  Calling it the United States Boundary Hotel, he located it in a small settlement on the banks of the Sonora River, shown here, close to Fort Buchanan with its drinking population of soldiers.  A one-story adobe building it became known as the Casa Blanca.  Graydon advertised his hotel’s “fine assortment of wines, liquors, cigars, sardines…and good accommodations for the night.” 

His establishment apparently was an immediate success, helped by his forging a business relationship with Sarah Bowman, the most famous woman on the desert frontier.  Arriving at Casa Blanca in 1856, she already had a reputation for her attention to the needs of dragoons.  A large woman, accounted a heroine by many, she was described this way:  “They called her old Great Western. She packed two six-shooters, and they all said she shore [sic] could use ’em, that she had killed a couple of men in her time. She was a hell of a good woman.”

Likely the woman with a knife shown above in a painting of the Casa Blanca barroom, Sarah was able to help Graydon keep order among the tough gun-toting clientele that mixed desperadoes with soldiers — and women.  At the Irishman’s hotel: “Señoritas sang songs, waited tables and cooked, sometimes dealt cards, and always smiled at the rough patrons, laughed at their crude jokes and helped them to forget just how very far from home they were.”  Graydon’s place, it generally was agreed, was “a pretty tough joint, but a good saloon.”  The proprietor became the richest man in the valley, in the 1860 census owning real estate valued then at $3,000 and personal property worth $10,000.  His holdings included a farm and a small herd of beef cattle.

With his wealth came responsibility.  Eventually Graydon assumed the role of informal enforcer of local law and order, willing to engage in gunfights to drive out the outlaw element in the vicinity.  The Army also paid him a stipend, said to be a handsome $10,000 a month, as a scout and tracker of deserters from Fort Buchanan.

Graydon seems to have left that life behind behind in 1861 with the outbreak of the Civil War.  He rejoined the Army, this time as an officer, raising a company of irregulars that came to be known as “The Independent Spy Company.”  This unit provided Union forces with intelligence and harassed invading Confederates, troops largely made up of Texans.  Below is an artist’s depiction of what I believe is a painting of Graydon with straw hat and pipe leading his men tracking Rebel forces.

During this period, Graydon has been credited with instigating one of the most bizarre incidents of the American Civil War.  He planned what he believed was an ingenious night attack on Confederates camped across the Rio Grande.  With several of his men he loaded two aged mules with explosives and led them across the river.  About 150 yards from the Rebel camp, fuses to the shells were lighted and the mules were slapped on the rump and sent running toward the sleeping Texans.  Then Graydon and his  men waded back across the river toward the safety of their fort.   The mules, however, failed to move far and instead turned around and galloped back toward the retreating and suddenly panicked conspirators.

The night quiet suddenly was shattered by exploding shells that sent hundreds of Rebels out of their slumbers and on alert for attack.  Graydon and his men reached the safety of the fort uninjured.  The sole casualties of the Irishman’s gambit were two old Army animals.  Despite the outcome, Graydon and his “mule raid” became part of Civil War legends in the American Southwest.

Texan Retreat

Graydon and his men played a major role in the Union victory in the subsequent battle of Glorieta Pass.  The Texans, subsequently cut off from normal supply lines, began to suffer from a lack of food.  Recognizing the dire situation the Confederate general decided to evacuate the area and the soldiers began a slow withdrawal back to Texas, as illustrated below left.  The challenge by Rebel forces to the territorial Southwest was over.

Manuelito

After the Texans abandoned their foray into New Mexico, Graydon was given command of a company in the First New Mexico Cavalry.  His assignment was to subdue the fierce Mescalero Apaches who were harassing settlers in the territory.  In October 1862 the commander was approached by a group of Apaches in the mountains north of Fort Stanton.  A confrontation ensued, an incident controversial in its origins, in which Graydon ordered his troops to fire on the Indians.  At least 11 Apaches were killed and more than 20 wounded.  Among the dead was Manuelito, a famous Apache chief.  The slaughter left the American troops untouched, but the event would doom Paddy Graydon.

The Irishman was reprimanded by his superiors, including Colonel “Kit” Carson who had assumed the command of Fort Stanton.   Shortly thereafter a letter appeared in a Santa Fe newspaper recounting the event and denouncing Graydon’s order to fire as “barbaric treachery.”  The letter was written by an Army surgeon and friend of Carson’s named Dr. John Marmaduke Whitlock.  The doctor not long after visited Fort Stanton calling out Graydon as “a murderer” and “a thief” because he had confiscated the Apaches’ horses.

Word soon got back to Graydon who confronted Whitlock, demanding to know if he had called him “an assassinating, cowardly son of a bitch.”  After Whitlock admitted as much, the Irishman handed him a letter presumably challenging him to a duel.  The doctor agreed to meet Graydon the following day.  The following morning Graydon is said to have confronted Whitlock again.  He is recorded saying:  “If you come to this post again and insult an officer, I will horsewhip you,’ ‘I am an officer and you are a pimp that follows the army.”   At that Whitlock drew his pistol and fired at Graydon who immediately shot back.  Both men missed and took cover.

A fire fight ensued.  Suddenly Graydon grabbed his chest and shouted, “The son of a bitch has killed me.”  The Irishnan fell dying, as depicted above in a illustration.  His troopers, who had heard the gunfire, rush to the scene.  They found their leader dead and Whitlock wounded in the side and hand, but alive.  When the doctor attempted to flee, Graydon’s soldiers pursued him and shot him down, pumping round after round of bullets into his lifeless body.  Kit Carson later assessed that more than 100 shots had been fired at Whitlock.

Graydon was given a military funeral at Fort Stanton with as much dignity as could be mustered in that dusty outpost.  He lay buried there for the next 24 years as his legend grew in the Desert West.  His body subsequently was moved to the National Cemetery in Santa Fe where his tombstone, shown here, still can be seen.

Only about 30 years old when he died and little more than a decade removed from his arrival in the United States, James “Paddy” Graydon had seen more danger and violence during his foreshorten years than others see in a lifetime.  Of such are legends made.  

Note:  The story of Paddy Graydon’s life and untimely death has been told repeatedly on Internet sites.  Additionally, Historian Jerry D. Thompson, has written a highly informative book about his life and exploits entitled “Desert Tiger:  Captain Paddy Graydon and the Civil War in the Far Southwest.”  It can be purchased at online book sites or from the University of Texas at El Paso “Texas Western Press.”  

Uncle Sam as “The Distiller’s Man”

 

Foreword:  This is the third in a series of posts demonstrating how American whiskey distillers, rectlfiers (blenders), and wholesalers used the image of Uncle Sam prior to 1920 as the Prohibition “noose” tightened on the industry.  It was a ploy to lend a patriotic aspect to their marketing.  But as the cartoon shown above indicates, the force of “dry” also saw Uncle Sam abetting liquor interests by profiting significantly from the taxes collected.   Before 1920 the largest source of federal revenues was excise taxes on alcohol.

The trade card from “Wolf’s Famous Distilling Company” of Kansas City was a typical depiction of Uncle Sam in the whiskey trade.  The old gentleman is pointing to a federal revenue stamp on “Wolf’s Monogram Whiskey” that indicates it has been “bottled in bond,” that is, under government mandated conditions that dictated length of aging, alcoholic strength or “proof” and other requirements in return for delayed taxation.  Although the claim that the stamp guaranteed “strength” might have some validity, it had nothing to do with quality or purity.

“Freeland Sour Mash” was a whiskey brand from Henry W. Smith & Company of Cincinnati.  Although this outfit has been described as operating a distillery in Covington, Kentucky, across the Ohio River from 1890 to 1901, records indicate that Smith was a rectifier, re-distilling and blending whiskeys obtained from Kentucky distilleries, particularly several in the Covington area, Federal District #2.  It somewhat strange then that Uncle Sam is shown sitting whittling on the 7th District in Kentucky, some distance from Cincinnati. 

The Yellowstone Whiskey ad specifically identifies Uncle Sam with “Bottled in Bond.  A whiskey wholesaler, the firm of Taylor & William was established in Louisville just after the Civil War in 1865.  In 1871 the sales manager, Charles Townsend, made an annual trip to the West Coast. En route he visited the newly opened Yellowstone National Park and, noting the enthusiasm over this natural wonder, decided it might be a good idea to name a whiskey after it.  Viola!  a national brand was born! 

This tradecard from what purports to be “Mascot Rye,” is an unusual depiction of Uncle Sam.  In the first place, he is without his trademark top hat and bears a collar on which is written “honest and good as I am.”  The label on the bottle bears an image of a horseman riding through a horseshoe and identifies J. Polsnek” of Akron, Ohio, as the source of the whiskey.  My extensive research on Polsnek and Mascot Rye has failed to reveal any information on either.

By contrast, George Benz & Sons are well documented St. Paul, Minnesota, whiskey wholesales and eventually distillers, after buying the Blue Ribbon Distillery in Eminence, Kentucky.  One of the company’s premier brands was “Uncle Sam’s Monogram Whiskey.”   The image of Uncle, however, gives him dark skin, looking like a strutting performer in black face.

A second representation of this whiskey in a Benz saloon sign, finds him safely white, albeit with a pot belly.  George Benz and his wife bore five sons, many of whom entered the business. In 1887, the name was changed to George Benz & Sons to reflect their role in the business. The sons continued the enterprise following George Benz's death in 1908 at age 69, switching to real estate upon the advent of Prohibition in 1918. 

This ad for McCulloch’s Green River Whiskey, a major Kentucky bourbon is more subtle in its identification of Uncle Sam with the product.  In the background, is one or more “guagers,” federal officials tasked with testing each barrel from the distiller to ascertain the “proof,” i.e. percentage of alcohol contained on which the tax can be levied.  It may be symbolic That Uncle Sam is looking away from the testing process and busy whittling.  Too often, it seems, distillers bribed the gaugers to under-report the alcoholic content and lower their tax obligations. 

Theodore Netter, one of several Philadelphia brothers who were in the liquor trade, united two symbols of America for his trade card.  Uncle Sam stands on one side and (Miss) Freedom, here wrapped in the flag, stand toasting each other.  Netter adds in a shield to claim that his blended  — and not bottled in bond — “American Famous Fine Whiskey” is “guaranteed under the National Pure Food Act.”  This was yet another false claim in an effort to appear government approved.  The food and drug authorities soon reacted to such claims and levied sanctions against their use.

The notion of not just one but two symbols of the United States also appealed to the Scottish makers of Haig Whiskey.  A trade card for American consumers featured Miss Liberty of statue fame holding aloft a bottle of the famous pinch bottle while Uncle Sam takes an obsequious bow before this United Kingdom import.   Haig distillery, now known as the Cameronbridge Distillery was founded in 1824. In 1830, it became the first distillery to produce grain whiskey using the column still method.  

Each of the images above was created before 1920 and the advent of National Prohibition.   After Repeal in 1934, and the effective end of the “dry” threat, the use of Uncle Sam as a symbol for whiskey merchandising largely came to and end.  From time to time, however, a whiskey-maker will decide to resurrect the image in whole or in part.  One of the nation’s oldest and most iconic brands not so long ago decided to advertise its longevity at Christmas time by stowing a bottle with a gift package in Uncle Sam’s top hat.   The simplicity of the design can be compared with those shown earlier.

Note:  The two prior treatments on this blog that featured Uncle Sam in liquor ads were “Enlisting Uncle Sam as Booze Salesman,” January 17, 2023, and “Return of Uncle Sam - Whiskey Salesman,”  April 16, 2024.  This website also contains posts devoted to Benz, Sept. 22, 2011; Netter, Jan 2, 2013; and McCulloch, April 1, 2014.