Pearl

by Jeremy Banas

  It is not known at what point Koehler bought the two mistresses their own residence, but he would often take unaccompanied trips to their Hunstock cottage not far from South Presa Street. Odd, considering that Burgermeister would later testify that Dumpke had been let go by Mrs. Koehler later in 1909 and before Otto Koehler purchased the Hunstock cottage for the two Emmas. Always known as a good neighborhood, it remains so today. The house itself was modest, about 1,500 square feet, give or take. It included a living room, a kitchen and bedrooms in the back, with a roof high enough for a good-sized attic. Oddly enough, the cottage was also a small walk of a few blocks from Otto Koehler’s Hot Wells investment.

  Copy of article describing the trial of Emma Burgermeister. Charlie Staats.

  Around the time of Otto and Emma Koehler’s return from Europe, Emma Dumpke laid a bomb on poor Otto: she was going to be married. One can only imagine what was going through Otto Koehler’s head. Clearly, he had hinged his happiness on his relationship with the two nurses, for Otto Koehler took a drastic measure soon after. Dumpke married Dr. Martin Dachsel and left San Antonio. When a neighbor of the Emmas sent a telegram to Dumpke in the fall of 1914 advising that Burgermeister was sick, Dumpke returned to San Antonio immediately to see her friend. After Dumpke’s return, Otto Koehler had a dilemma. Realizing that he was going to lose Dumpke and could do nothing about it, Otto Koehler made a proposal of marriage to Emma Burgermeister, stating that he would seek a divorce from his wife.

  Burgermeister turned Koehler down. She could not in good conscience marry Koehler and have him leave his wife, a helpless and injured woman, by herself with no way to support herself. At some point after this encounter, Otto Koehler seems to have changed his mind about his divorce and marriage proposal, as suggested by details gathered from the later trial of Emma Burgermeister. One can only speculate as to why Otto Koehler changed his mind. Had someone intervened and convinced him to stop, or had he come to the realization that perhaps he had made some very bad decisions? Burgermeister herself later alluded that someone had gotten to Otto Koehler and helped him see reason.

  Regardless, events were already set in motion. On a very fateful Friday, November 13, 1914, Otto Koehler left his mansion in Laurel Heights and got into his buggy, tearing off to the Hunstock cottage, a trip that would take him almost an hour.

  By all accounts, Koehler appears to have gone to the cottage that night to officially end the affairs with the two nurses. Some speculate that he went to the cottage to beg Burgermeister to change her mind. Regardless of the reason, Otto Koehler arrived at the cottage in the early evening and entered with great fanfare. At the door was Dumpke, whom he swiftly passed right by without saying a word. Koehler headed straight to the bedroom, where he assumed Burgermeister would be. As Koehler entered the bedroom, he saw her in bed with a cold rag on her forehead. Koehler eventually sat at the edge of the bed.

  Not fifteen minutes later, Koehler was lying on the floor dead with bullet wounds in his chest, face and neck. It took three bullets—ironic considering he had three women in his life. If we were to believe in conspiracies, one might think Burgermeister planned this all along, down to the three shots getting revenge for her, Dumpke and Otto Koehler’s wife, Emma Bentsen Koehler. A lot transpired in those fifteen minutes. The trial revealed that Otto Koehler leaned in to kiss Burgermeister, who spurned his advances. An argument ensued, with Burgermeister suddenly pulling out a gun, aiming it at Koehler and then firing.

  When police arrived at some point after, Burgermeister was in a fit. She had to be carried out from the cottage and taken to Baylor Hospital. Burgermeister was treated for a wound she had sustained in her left forearm from a knife. It would not be unreasonable to surmise that Koehler had the knife and tried to defend himself at some point, but no mention of a knife being present was found. The Koehler family’s official statement was somewhat typical, for they noted that Otto Koehler had gone to the cottage that night to settle a bill with the two nurses when the argument occurred. This alternative fact would not stand up for long once the grand jury trial began.

  Koehler himself was also taken from the scene. Although San Antonio Undertaking and Embalming took the larger-than-life brewer away in a body bag, it was not the end of the drama surrounding Otto Koehler and his three Emmas.

  Letters poured in from all over to Emma Koehler, expressing their sorrow to the newly widowed brewer’s wife. Otto Koehler, despite his faults, was beloved around the world. Koehler’s own obituary was even carefully crafted to ensure that everyone remembered that Koehler “was widely known and he had many friends.” Although he was gone, Koehler had lived his life exactly how he wanted and made no apologies for it. He had given much back to his beloved San Antonio community, for which he was honored in death. Koehler had been a member of the long-standing German heritage society Beethoven Mänerchor (still open today) along with fellow German (and San Antonio’s first commercial brewer) Charles Degen. In fact, the Beethoven Choir, with whom Koehler also sang, opened its pipes during his funeral in honor of a fallen friend.

  Otto Koehler’s original bowler hat. Purchased at Saks Fifth Avenue on April 5—unknown year but likely in the late 1890s. Jeremy Banas.

  At a San Antonio Brewing Association board meeting a few days after Otto Koehler’s death, his partner and close friend Otto Wahrmund addressed the brewery’s board regarding his friend’s death:

  Whereas, Otto Koehler, our president with whom we have been intimately associated both personally and in the business since the organization of this association, met with an untimely death on the twelfth day of this month.…Words cannot convey the sorrow we feel at his death in the prime of manhood. Possessed of all his facilities and energy would have made him in the future, as he was in the past, one of the most useful citizens of his adopted home. We deeply deplore the fact that he has left us, and extend to those left behind our heartfelt sympathies and bow to the inevitable. Resolved further, that in recognition of the fact that the best energies of his life have been devoted to the success of this enterprise, and in respect of his memory, that there be no change in the presidency of this Association at this time.

  Gravestone of Otto Wahrmund at Mission Park South Cemetery. Jeremy Banas.

  Otto Koehler’s epitaph at Mission Park South Cemetery. Jeremy Banas.

  Koehler’s funeral saw about one thousand attendees, and his pallbearers were some of the San Antonio Brewing Association’s and San Antonio’s elite. They included Andrew Stevens (brother of co-founder J.J. Stevens), Harry Wahrmund (Otto Wahrmund’s nephew), Otto Wahrmund, Oscar Bergstrom (who was still living in New York City), J.J. Stevens, William Wurzbach (brother of the well-known Harry Wurzbach) and almost fifty other pallbearers, with the services being held at the Koehler mansion in Laurel Heights.

  A San Antonio Light article in 1914 estimated Otto Koehler’s net worth as somewhere around $3 million, a sum that would now equal $73,710,436. Not too bad for someone (especially an immigrant) who started at the bottom of the industry and worked his way up. The article also mentioned that his wife, Emma Koehler, as well as two nephews, Charles E. and Otto A. Koehler, both of whom would figure prominently in the brewery’s future, survived Koehler.

  Exterior of the Koehler House, 1900s. San Antonio College and the Alamo Colleges District Foundation.

  WHO SHOT OTTO?

  What of the two Emmas who were present and involved in Otto Koehler’s death? Conflicting reports exist regarding Emma Dumpke, known as Emma Dumpke Daschel after her marriage. One article noted that she was detained at the scene for murder or conspiracy to commit murder of Otto Koehler, although the district attorney, merely holding her as a “witness” to the murder, did not formally arrest her.

  With no evidence to support that Dumpke was involved in any type of conspiracy to murder Koehler, San Antonio district attorney W.C. Linden released her on November 19, 1914, after her husband paid her bail in the amount of $500. Yet another article stated that Dumpke was arrested at th
e scene and then later released due to lack of evidence. The grand jury also found no evidence of Dumpke’s involvement in Otto Koehler’s death and essentially let her go; Dumpke left San Antonio with her husband soon after.

  Burgermeister remained at Baylor Hospital for four days, receiving treatment for her wound. One could speculate that she was exaggerating her injuries in order to avoid facing the music. When it was time for her to leave the hospital, she was taken to the Bexar County Jail by then Bexar County sheriff Tobin. Mrs. N.S. Brooks, a jail matron at the time, processed her. Burgermeister continued to plead that she only shot Otto Koehler to protect herself, as Koehler had threatened her with a gun—despite the fact that no other gun was found at the scene.

  A grand jury chose not to indict Emma Dumpke but pushed forward with the indictment of Emma Burgermeister with as much force as one of the trains that carried San Antonio’s beloved XXX Pearl Beer. In order to avoid the charges, Burgermeister did what any self-respecting innocent would do: she fled, claiming that her attorney told her to run, although not before she paid her $5,000 bail fee, leaving her $2,000. She didn’t just hide out in some far-away state in the United States. No, she fled to Europe to put her nursing skills to use in the war effort as World War I raged on.

  In early 1915, Burgermeister’s attorney received a letter from her advising that she was “nursing wounded soldiers.” By July 1915, and for an unknown reason, Burgermeister had returned to America on the SS New Amsterdam and settled in New York. Having missed a court date of February 1 that year, her bail was revoked. She had been hiding out in New York a mere two years when Duncan McAskill, the Bexar County district attorney, came to New York to get her. Burgermeister then hired an attorney, and The State of Texas v. Emma Hedda Burgermeister began on January 16, 1918.

  The circus of a trial that ensued would not soon be eclipsed, becoming something we might today label as a “trial of the century.” Burgermeister’s attorney was none other than former Texas governor Thomas Mitchell Campbell. While governor, Campbell had created the position of Bexar County assistant district attorney to help with enforcement of laws against saloons. On the prosecuting side were Assistant District Attorney James F. Onion, who had been a pallbearer at Otto Koehler’s funeral; S.G. Newton, a San Antonio Brewing Association attorney; and W.C. Linden, who was Bexar County district attorney when Burgermeister skipped bail in 1915. Coincidentally, Campbell was a dry supporter and Onion and his team were wets.

  Everything appeared to be in the prosecution’s favor, especially with an all-male jury of local residences. One person who could have helped immensely was missing: Emma Dumpke. Without her testimony that Koehler and Dumpke were not together anymore at the time of the incident, that Koehler was upset over money and that Burgermeister was planning for trouble, the defense would have its fair share of challenges.

  TRIAL OF THE CENTURY

  Many witnesses testified for and against Emma Burgermeister. One witness was Henry Cordt, who resided across from the “Emma” cottage with his wife. At the time Dumpke was living out of town with her husband, Cordt advised the court that Burgermeister had forged a telegram in his name, sending it to Dumpke in St. Louis and urging her to come back to San Antonio to her aid. Dumpke had earlier confirmed this, stating that she returned to find Burgermeister just fine.

  Cordt would also testify that he heard Dumpke yell Burgermeister’s name on the night of the murder, prompting him to run across the street to the cottage. Upon entering the cottage, Cordt heard three or four shots. Burgermeister’s bedroom door was half open when he approached, and after he fully opened it, Burgermeister portrayed herself as a victim, hunched over Koehler’s body, cradling his head and crying. Cordt confirmed this, adding that he asked Burgermeister what she had done, to which the young nurse replied, “He tried to murder me,” saying nothing more as Koehler’s body still twitched.

  Burgermeister must have been quite the charmer. She made friends with the jail matron, Brooks, who admitted during the trial that she and Burgermeister had become friends and she had accepted gifts from her. This possible friendship may have prompted Matron Brooks to provide questionable testimony in favor of her friend, including that Burgermeister had bruises on her body, including the throat. Even one of the responding officers, Detective Crosby Marsden, advised that two knives were found at the scene, one of them bloody, in addition to a loaded revolver and Burgermeister’s used .32-caliber revolver. Perhaps the bloody knife, later shown to have been dull, led to Burgermeister’s proclamation that Otto Koehler had tried to kill her. The detective, who would later serve as a Texas Ranger, admitted to having done some detective work for Burgermeister in the past, as well as giving her defense attorney photos from the crime scene that would aid in her defense.

  Perhaps the best support for Burgermeister was that of local attorney Florence Ramer. She testified that Burgermeister had come to her on the day of the murder asking for help, stating that her life was in danger from Koehler. She noted that Burgermeister had told her that Koehler tried to meet her for a liaison at a shady place, after which she became fearful of him. Ramer also stated that Burgermeister said she had not sent Dumpke to the brewery that day to fetch Otto Koehler and bring him to the cottage to discuss their falling out and to settle their business affairs, nor had she arranged for Ramer to be there in the evening. This testimony was in response to other testimony that perhaps the Emmas had planned this ahead of time.

  When Burgermeister herself took the stand, she no longer appeared to be the victim. Hardened and full of resolve, Burgermeister painted a picture of Otto Koehler that left some with a distaste for the Texas beer magnate. Tall, blond and alluring, Burgermeister used this to her advantage with her jurors. She described Koehler as “a bull when mad” and noted that she had never worked for the Koehlers, as all had been led to believe. She went so far as to deny any liaisons with Koehler herself, advising that any extramarital affairs were between Koehler and Dumpke, whom he said he would marry once his wife had the decency to wake up on the wrong side of the grass.

  Burgermeister continued her story, painting a very desperate Otto Koehler once Dumpke was married and moved from San Antonio. At that time, Burgermeister said, Koehler then professed his love for her. However, she turned him down, not wanting to leave a sick Emma Koehler out on her own. After Koehler seemingly broke things off with her, Burgermeister advised that Koehler came to her after returning from his fall 1914 trip to see family in Germany. He asked her if she really loved him. She replied that she did. She noted that Koehler became confused about his life, stating that he would go to Galveston and make it look like an accident.

  Concerned, she hired an investigator to follow Koehler and protect him, as she loved him, she said. That is when she telegraphed Dumpke. Burgermeister said that when Koehler asked her and Dumpke to bring all the papers that had his name on them, his intentions to kill her were clear, so she took precautions. When Koehler later arrived at the house, she asked him why he wanted to do away with her, to which he replied that she was not in her right mind. Burgermeister claimed that Koehler came toward her, at which point she fired the gun until he fell to the ground. During the trial, she also confirmed that both guns in the home were hers, kept for protection. After shooting Koehler, she claimed to have then turned the gun on herself and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Finding this clearly ridiculous, the district attorney remarked that her “aim at Mr. Koehler was better than your aim at yourself.”

  Despite this, Koehler had many residents testifying on his behalf, including many of his pallbearers. They testified to his character and lack of temper. The Koehler family’s version of the events, primarily that of Emma Koehler, was that Otto Koehler had driven out to the Hunstock cottage to settle a bill that Burgermeister had submitted for the care of Emma Koehler and that the two argued, with Burgermeister panicking and shooting Koehler.

  Then the unexpected happened: the trial resulted in an acquittal for Burgermeister—a little s
hocking considering the all-male jury. As if to add insult to the widow Koehler’s already substantial embarrassment, Burgermeister married the jury foreman and moved to New Orleans. At some undisclosed time later, though, she moved back with her husband into the very cottage home where she and Dumpke had lived, for the cottage had been deeded to her by Otto Koehler years before.

  Adjusting after Otto Koehler’s death in late 1914, the San Antonio Brewing Association was hit hard. With no clear leadership at the brewery, the board needed to take action quickly. To stay on track, the board members agreed to Otto Wahrmund’s suggestion in the meeting after Koehler’s death that they would not elect another president for now. Wahrmund became the brewery’s president in all but name.

  LIFE WITHOUT OTTO KOEHLER

  One individual who was brought on in the middle of 1914 and would help keep the San Antonio Brewing Association going in years to come, especially after Otto Koehler’s death, was engineer William Isaacs, known as Billy to his friends. Isaacs worked at the San Antonio Brewing Association for almost fifty years and retired as vice-president of plant operations.

  Isaacs was a Texas born and raised engineer. Born on July 4, 1896, he came to San Antonio around ten years later. He was hired by the San Antonio Brewing Association on July 14, 1914, after having completed his studies at St. Mary’s College (now St. Mary’s University). When World War I broke out for the United States in 1917, Isaacs served as an automotive instructor in Austin at Camp Mabry. He came back a few years later when the United States’ involvement in the war ended.