The Breeztke shaving mug

The Breetzke Shaving Mug

Recently, in the process of cleaning out a corner of the basement, my wife, Jean, came across a beautiful, off-white, antique cup, with the name of her great grandfather, K.F.A Breetzke (Karl Fredrick August Breetzke), carefully hand painted in gold lettering on the side. Above the lettering is the picture of an anvil, the symbol of his profession of Blacksmith. The cup came from a barbershop in Wisner, Nebraska, where Mr. Breetzke lived and practiced his profession in the closing years of the 19th Century and the early years of the 20th.

For many years men chose to go bearded because of the lack of good shaving equipment. Beginning in the mid-1800s smooth shaven males began to be the norm (though mustached) thanks to the wide-spread development of the steel used to make straight razors, and the stones and strops that would keep that instrument with a super sharp cutting edge. Safely using one of these potentially lethal blades required something of a knack -- to produce a good close shave without nicking the face. For this reason beards remained popular even into the 20th century.

The fellow who really ruined the bearded image for men was King Gillette, who introduced a new version of the so-called "safety razor" in the early years of the 20th century. Though there had been earlier versions of the safety razor, what made Gillette's model different, and eventually immensely popular was his perfection of a cheap, disposable blade for his razors -- the Gillette Blue Blade. When he introduced his new razor, he sold it for $5 ($140 in today's dollars) -- a hefty price to pay, for the average wage earner. Gillette's sales were good, but the advent of World War I, when the US Army included a Gillette Razor and a supply of Blue Blades, caused sales to sky rocket.

Karl Frederick August and Hannah Emilie Lousa Breetzke

After the war the smooth shaven look became the norm, led by the example of returning Doughboys. Continuing persistent and clever advertising made the name of Gillette and Shaving become synonymous.

But in the closing years of the 19th Century and up to World War I, most men still used straight edged razors, and ivory-handled razors were greatly prized in many households. Shaving mugs and brushes were likewise ornate and in great demand. In Wisner, Nebraska, where Karl Frederick August Breetzke lived, the well-off male chose to have his daily shave in a barber shop, administered by an experienced barber. Barbers of the day catered to this elite trade and made sure that their clients kept returning by providing room for a client's individual shaving mug and brush on shelves on either side of the mirrors.

It was thought that skin rashes were spread by the use of a common brush and shaving mug. This might have had some validity, but it would seem equally plausible that the sight of a man's mug, sitting on the barber's shelf, with a picture of his profession on that mug, was recognition of a man who was successful to the extent that he could afford to have a barber administer his shave. In Mr. Breetzke's case, he was proud to show the world the picture of the anvil, signifying the profession to which he owed his success.

Karl Breetze had been a blacksmith in a Pomeranian village in Germany, near the home of his future wife, Hannah Emilie Louisa (Genrich). In about 1870, when he reached the age at which he would be drafted into the Army, he rebelled and determined to run away, rather than serve in the military. He had seen how his older brother had been treated in the Army and wanted no part of it. He was just one step ahead of the authorities when he reached the sea port and pled his case to the Captain of a ship that was about to sail for America. The Captain was sympathetic, but said that he would have to let the authorities search the ship. He would not object if Karl wanted to hide out in the cargo bay of the ship.

The military authorities came aboard and began their search of the ship for the missing fugitive. After a rather short time the ship's horn blew and the Captain announced that he would have to set sail. The authorities were not happy with not being able to complete their search, but had no choice and left the ship empty handed.

In due time Karl Breetze made his way to Wisner, Nebraska, via Chicago, to set up his Blacksmith business, next door to the Wagon Shop, which was run by his brother, William.

By 1877 he had saved enough money that he was able to send brother, William, back to German to bring to America his parent, Breetzke and his intended bride, Hannah Emilie Louisa. Two girls were born to August and Hannah, Margaret and Elise (Jean's grandmother).

When Karl Breetzke died, in 1910, the Wisner barber dutifully returned Karl's shaving mug to his widow, who kept it in a place of honor in her home until her death in 1942. Her daughter, Elise had died early, in 1915, so Jean's mother and then Jean became the keepers of the beautiful shaving mug.

At the recent reappearance of the shaving mug I suggested that I would like to use it for my shaving mug, on a daily basis. Somehow, this did not strike Jean as an appropriate use of the treasured mug.

However, when our son, Matt suggested that it might be displayed, in a little glass box at the bakery, to honor not only Karl Frederick August, but also, the sandwich, "The Breetzke," which bears his name.

At the Bieroc Café, "The Breetzke" is the traditional vegetarian sandwich, with sprouts, tomatoes, and the rest, on swirled rye bread. It has proved popular, though I always thought that it lacked some things, which would make it better (to my taste).

Therefore, just to appease me, the girls at the sandwich table have offered a new variation of the Breetzke, which they complemented with sour kraut and bacon.

However, they deemed that this sandwich should have a new name, so on the menu now is "The Waltzke" -- the "vegetarian" sandwich that even meat lovers can enjoy.

So far, though, they have not chosen to honor me with my own shaving cup.