Americans Used To Drink All Day, Every Day
by Ivan Farkas
Drinking is a proud, storied American pastime, vice, social occasion, or even anti-social occasion depending on how belligerent you are. But even the 21st-century’s touchy-feely-est Happy Hour drunks are nothing like our ancestors, who drank all day, every single day.
Two of the main reasons historical Americans drank so much coincide with the same reasons that many non-historical Americans do today: It tastes good, and it helps you feel groovy. Heritage is another reason, since the American cultural hodgepodge includes many and various hodges from all of those European nations known for being able to throw back more than a few.
In the 1700s, beyond whatever cider or other fermented fruit liquids you could get your hands on, the prominent hard alcohol was rum. But that only lasted until the end of the century, then that Revolution thing happened, Britain halted trades, and eventually, the federal government levied rum taxes. Accordingly, between 1790 and 1810, the number of distilleries in the newly-united United States of America quintupled to 14,000.
You see, when the English rum pipeline dried up, it vacated an alcoholic niche. Kentucky and Ohio were only too happy to fill the void, turning their vast supply of perishable corn into non-perishable whiskey. By 1820, it was selling for 25 cents a gallon, making it not only the cheapest drink around, but also affordable enough to support a life lived in a constant, drunken haze.
In these pre-20th centuries, drinking commenced upon waking, then continued throughout the day. It topped off every meal, meeting, activity, inconvenience, joy, sorrow, or inbetween. The nights ended as the days began, with an upside-down flagon, jug, ewer, or bottle. Even tiny children were in on it, as they slurped up the sugary sediment at the bottom of their parents’ drinks.
It was hard to avoid alcohol back then, considering the pub was the social center of the community, and that booze seemed to punctuate every occasion — special and non-special alike. Hell, around 1830, many locales observed the twice-daily “grog time” at 11 a.m. and 4 p.m., during which workers were welcome, expected actually, to pause and dunk their tankards into a bucket of fermented mash.
And while modern Americans down nearly two and a half gallons of alcohol per person per year, the Americans of a couple of centuries ago drank juuuust a tittle more. And by a tittle more, I mean a freaking lot, like “thirty-four gallons of beer and cider, five gallons of distilled spirits, and one gallon of wine per year in 1790.”
These post-Revolution decades were our alcoholic Wonder Years, and the most surprising thing you’ll notice about the statistics is how little wine was drunk. Less surprising is that even with such enthusiastic consumption of substances, drunkenness was still considered obscene and an affront to Godly affairs. However, practice pays off, and foreign visitors marveled at Americans' ability to drink without blacking out.
Across the class spectrum, the Founders’ forums were also spectacular, alcohol-splashed affairs. On September 15, 1787, just a couple of days before the signing of the United States Constitution, Philadelphia witnessed a historic night out.
To cap a day of constituting, Washington and guests, including some Founding Fathers and the Light Horse of Philadelphia — the volunteer cavalry corps from that Delaware crossing painting — went down the street to a popular spot: City Tavern. There, Washington and 54 associates consumed “54 bottles of Madeira, 60 bottles of Claret, 8 bottles of Whiskey, 22 bottles of Porter, 8 bottles of Hard Cider, 12 of Beer and seven bowls of Alcoholic Punch.” The tab came to a whopping $15,000 in today's money, though to be fair that did include dinner and the price of some broken glasses.
Now, this is not a story to be recreated. Please don't grab four-and-a-half dozen of your closest friends and go invade the nearest bar to get sloshed and throw mugs and scream about how you're doing it for the Constitution. But what you can do is remember. Remember, every single time you have a drink, that you're honoring American history. Specifically, its booziest, drunkest parts.
