Cocktails of the American Revolution
To be sure, colonial Americans were mixing up some really interesting craft cocktails back in the day. They just usually made big batches and doled them out by the mug-full to thirsty tavern-goers. Those early Americans generally believed alcohol could be helpful to the sick or aged, and was healthier than drinking water. Many started the day with a pick-me-up, ended it with a put-me-down, and maybe did a little quaffing at the tavern in between.
Hot alcoholic mixtures were common to many taverns. Some had similar ingredients, but from tavern to tavern the keepers creatively called them different names such as Bellow Stop, Yard of Flannel, Hotch Pot, or Crambambull. Other alcoholic mixtures were labeled Bogus, Blackstrap, Bombo, Mimbo, Syllabub, and Whistlebelly. Those colonials were just as inventive with colorful drink names as we are today with our Gin Gin Mules, Paper Planes, and Penicillins, not to mention the Harvey Wallbangers and Red-Headed Sluts of recent past.
Rum was common to many of these early cocktails. And, as strange as it may seem, one can directly connect that spirit to the fact that America fought a war against England and gained its independence. Wait, whaaaat? Yup, colonists in New England had developed a taste for rum. That’s because it was stronger and cheaper than the brandies they had been used to. And, New Englanders found it hard to make a good liquor out of locally grown pumpkins or other crops they could grow there at that time. So, they started importing molasses from the Caribbean and distilling it themselves. There was practically a distillery in every town.
Enter the British with a ton of extra taxes on the colonies. The British Parliament enacted The Sugar Act of 1764, one of the many laws designed to raise revenue from the 13 colonies. The Act set a tax on imported sugar and molasses, greatly impacting the cost to manufacture rum in New England. Soon, the colonies rang out with cries of “No taxation without representation.” And, the rest is history as they say.
This unmistakable connection of colonial drinking and cocktail making to the Revolutionary War is a perfect backdrop for a sequence of tales from the Chronicles of Cocktail Connections.
Early Resistance (The Crambambull Flip)
It was a cold December night in the year 1773. The streets of Boston were as barren as the trees lining Green Dragon Lane. However, two men in particular found some warmth near the fire within the Green Dragon Tavern. There, they huddled in secret conversation. They spoke with passion, although in hushed tones of conspiracy. Their anger, resolution and patriotic courage increased with every sip of the belly-warming Flip filling their large ceramic mugs.
“I’ve had it, Sam,” said the 36-year-old John Hancock. “I’m sick and tired of those blasted Redcoats, sipping their tea back in Britain, growing fat on the sugar and stamp taxes that are bleeding our distilleries dry!”
“You said it, John,” the other replied angrily. “Tonight, we’ll throw them a tea party the likes of which they have never seen, or my name isn’t Samuel Adams! It’ll be a rumbustion heard round the world!”
Hancock raised his flagon, and foregoing any further desire for secrecy, he yelled out, “Let’s drink to the Sons of Liberty! My good tender of the bar, mix us up another batch of that excellent New England Crambambull Flip! We have serious business ahead of us tonight!”
The Flip, enjoyed by our plotting patriots above, first appeared in taverns in the 1690s. It would become a favorite drink of colonials for over a century to come. The composition of the Flip varied from tavern to tavern, as sometimes did its name. One tavern might serve a Bellow-Stop and the next one down the road a Hotch Pot.
A recipe for the old drink was written in The Cook’s Oracle (1822). “To make a quart of Flip: Put the Ale on the fire to warm, and beat up three or four Eggs with four ounces of moist Sugar, a teaspoonful of grated Nutmeg or Ginger, and a quartern of good old Rum or Brandy. When the Ale is near to boil, put it into one pitcher, and the Rum and Eggs into another; turn it from one pitcher to another (thus the name Flip) till it is as smooth as Cream.”
News of the First Conflict (The Rattleskull)
Elija Livingston was a fur trapper and trader, working the territory along the Susquehanna River. He had come into the town of New Castle to visit his sister and her husband, and purchase some needed supplies. Having completed his tasks on this beautiful spring day in 1775, he entered the Prancing Pony Tavern with a mighty thirst to quench. “The name’s Eli,” he said to the man behind the bar. “I’ll have whatever tavern mix you might be serving tonight.”
“Benjamin Atkins at your service,” replied the bartender. “One Prancing Pony special, coming right up.”
Eli surveyed the room, seeing several groupings of townsmen enjoying their well-deserved end-of-the-day libations. They all seemed quite involved in heated conversation. Eli turned back to Ben and asked, “Have I missed some important goings-on while away from civilization? The room seems abuzz with something.”
Ben replied, “Have ye not heard of the news from Lexington and Concord to the East? We have finally struck back at our heavy-handed British overlords. Our boys took it to those damn redcoats. Men were killed on both sides though, and we are truly looking at war now.”
Eli expressed his surprise at this news. Then, he was quiet for a while, deep in thought as he sipped his drink. He wondered at his own future in the coming conflict. A supporter of colonial independence, he knew he would heed the first call to arms.
One particular character in the tavern broke his somber mood. A rather portly gentleman with a ruddy complexion was holding a different type of court by the hearth. The room was rather small and the man was rather loud, so it was not hard to overhear his prattle. The man was obviously far into his drinking, as his lips appeared to be well loosened.
“Well, I just cannot believe the prices that greedy Mr. Williamson is charging at his general store these days,” he slurred. “He must need more profits to keep that wife of his with her expensive tastes. And he might want to keep his eyes on her as she parades about the town in her finery.” On and on he went, covering the business of most everyone within a 5-mile radius.
Eli leaned into Benjamin, and said with a smile, “If I might inquire, what is the tale of that drunken gossiper by the fire?”
Benjamin laughed, “That, sir, is the town busybody and drunk, Mr. Hezekiah Hawkins. He is in here nearly every night rambling on and on about the private affairs of our citizens. It is a wonder someone hasn’t taken a switch to him.”
Eli joined in his laughter, and added, “By the way, good sir, I think I will have another of this mighty fine concoction you have served me. What do you call it?”
“Interesting that you ask. I would say that our drink is named for our gossiping friend over there.”
“You mean that it is called a Hezekiah?” Gideon said in disbelief.
“No,” Benjamin replied, “It is called a Rattle-Skull!” Rattle-Skull being British-Colonial slang for an empty-headed person who talked too much, both men laughed until tears ran down their cheeks.
However, the fateful events at Lexington and Concord quickly returned the two men to more serious discussion. They knew life would change for every colonist and that there were hard times ahead.
Rattle-Skull was indeed a name for another colonial cocktail. And, to bring additional meaning to the drink’s name, old Hezekiah’s brain probably felt like it was rattling in his skull the next morning. For this drink, like the Flip, was a potent combination of beer and spirits. It brings together bold flavors of rum and brandy, rich malty flavors of a porter beer, a touch of lime citrus, and a topping of nutmeg. An unusual combination to say the least, but absent a cozy colonial tavern fireplace, it makes a perfect pairing with a campfire or a backyard firepit.
Ticonderoga (The Stone Fence)
Ethan Allen and his Green Mountain Boys were ready for a fight. They were a militia group located in the New Hampshire Grants Territory (Vermont) between New York and New Hampshire. At that time, Allen could call upon a number of men from the Territory so great that he commanded the largest armed force in North America. They were itching for some action following the nearby conflicts at Lexington and Concord.
The Militia had been joined by Colonel Benedict Arnold with instructions to capture the strategic Fort Ticonderoga from the British. So, they had left their headquarters in Bennington and traveled 50 miles north to assemble in the town of Castleton. They wisely made new headquarters in the Remington Tavern, where they had ready access to courage-bolstering refreshments.
It was late on the night of May 9, 1775, and the tavern was packed with Green Mountain Boys getting rowdier by the minute. Duncan Miller, the tavern keeper, had three young lads running drinks to the men, and still it was hard to keep up with this crowd. Cries of “More Stone Fence! More Stone Fence!” rang about the place. They Boys were not calling for construction of farm border walls. Rather, the Stone Fence was the drink of choice with this militia. A blend of rum and hard cider, it did the trick fast.
Duncan surveyed the room and noticed Colonel Benedict Arnold sitting alone far from the boisterous activity. Arnold looked lost in thought as he stared sullenly into his drink. Duncan’s eyes switched to another table where Ethan Allen and his two lieutenants, James Easton and Seth Warner were winding up the planning details of their attack on Ticonderoga. As Duncan headed to Ethan’s table with another round of Stone Fences, he overheard the end of their conversation.
“And so, we will meet as planned at Hand’s Cove,” said Ethan. “Samuel and Asa will meet us there with boats for the crossing of Champlain. Captain Phelps has finished his reconnoitering. He reports that the fort is weakly defended, in need of repair, and ripe for the taking.”
“Sounds good, Ethan,” replied Seth. “I am just glad you talked down that boob Arnold and his attempts to assume leadership of this campaign.”
“Don’t worry, Seth,” replied Ethan confidently. “With the backing of all the men, there is no question that my command remains solid.” Ethan then turned to Duncan as the tavern keeper approached, full tankards in hand. “I thank you for your great hospitality Mr. Miller. You have put up with a lot from my noisy bunch.” And as Duncan handed him another drink, Ethan added, “Now I know why this drink we all love so much is called a Stone Fence. What could be as hard as a pile of granite in a New England stone fence? This potent mixture of hard rum likker and hard cider, that is what! It has certainly hardened us for the conflict on the morrow.”
And he stood, an imposing man of well over 6 feet, and roared for the attention of his men. He raised his Stone Fence high and his men followed suit. “Here’s to liberty and the Green Mountain Boys! It’s time to go kick those Redcoats out of our fort!” Every man jumped up with shouts of support, drained the last drops of rum and cider, and strode from the tavern with patriotic purpose.
Although only one boat was secured for crossing Lake Champlain, Ethan Allen crossed with 83 of his men on that early stormy morning of May 10. The British were caught completely unaware and the fort was taken without loss of life on either side. On May 12, Allen sent his prisoners to Connecticut’s Governor Jonathan Trumbull with a note saying “I make you a present of a Major, a Captain, and two Lieutenants of the Regular Establishment of George the Third.” Later that year, Henry Knox, an officer in the Continental Army, relocated the cannons captured at Fort Ticonderoga to the defense of Boston. The arrival of the cannons caused the British to move their fleet out of Boston harbor and away from a focus on New England.
History doesn’t exactly record the Stone Fence colonial cocktail as the reason for that initial American victory at Ticonderoga. But, it is certain to have brought warmth and resolve to Ethan Allen and his brave bunch of Green Mountain Boys. The drink is a simple mix of hard apple cider and rum. And, some say it is reminiscent of the dark rum, ginger beer and lime juice mix of Dark and Stormy fame.
From those early events initiating the Revolution to the British surrender at Yorktown in 1781, colonial taverns and the drinks they served were a common thread woven among the pages of American history. And, they continued as a new nation was born…
The Aftermath (Fish House Punch)
The 55-year-old George Washington needed a break. He had arrived in Philadelphia on May 9, 1787. After a quorum of delegates was reached on May 25, Washington had been presiding over the Constitutional Convention. From the beginning, the delegates had clashed over issues of state sovereignty and distribution of power. Slow progress was being made, and a much-needed 5-day recess had been agreed to.
On that cool evening of June 17, with “We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union…” echoing in his head, he entered the Great Room of “The Castle,” an exclusive clubhouse retreat. He had traveled a short distance north of Philadelphia to the State in Schuylkill Fishing Club of which he was an honorary member.
“Welcome to the Castle, General Washington,” called out Gideon McFadden. McFadden was working behind a bar stretching the entire length of one wall of the room. “It’s wonderful to have you back, Sir. How was the fishing today?”
George replied, “It could not have been better…a day of well needed quiet separation from all those bickering delegates.”
As Gideon hauled out a gigantic bowl, he said, “Well, Sir, I’ve got just the thing to mellow your evening. I’m preparing our famous Fish House Punch.”
Washington watched as Gideon carefully added each ingredient to the bowl…Jamaican Rum, French Cognac, Peach Brandy, lemon juice, sugar, and water. He found a quiet corner. As he sipped the first of what would be many mugs of the potent potion, a warm relaxation washed over him. He had not relaxed in a long time.
A few days later, as he headed back to the convention, he opened his diary. He noted that the quiet days of fishing and nights awash in Fish House Punch had distracted him. For the entire time of his stay at the club, he had neglected his custom of daily writings. He chuckled, and thought, “By God, I must share that recipe with Old Ben Franklin.” And, as his carriage rolled along the dirt road south to Philadelphia, passersby heard him quietly singing, “There’s a little place just out of town, where, if you go to lunch, they’ll make you forget your mother-in-law with a drink called Fish-House Punch!” (From The Cook by Thomas J. Murrey, 1885)
One of America’s most popular punch recipes today still remains the Fish House Punch. In 1732, on the banks of the Schuylkill river in Philadelphia, a social club called The State in Schuylkill, was established. It had a simple goal of socializing, fishing, eating and drinking. By 1747, the group had grown and built a clubhouse which the members affectionately called The Castle. The Castle became the birthplace of the official State in Schuylkill Fish House Punch.
The Tavern
Taverns were an integral part of colonial life in America. The Tavern served as the first town hall, news center, general store, military station, and a place where hungry travelers could find food, drink and a night’s rest. Men from all walks of life met inside the tavern to transact business, discuss politics, gamble and gossip over hearty food and a bottle of wine, a tankard of ale or one of the colonial concoctions of these tales.
Taverns in urban and rural Colonial America played a critical role in the American Revolution and the establishment of the new United States. They served as the planning centers for actions by the Colonists against the British. They were where George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and our other Founding Fathers gathered to discuss the struggle for independence. But, they also were where the common folk of the colonies could meet over a Flip, a Stone Fence, a Rattle-Skull or a Punch and decide for themselves their political future.
