Poitín Goes to America

Poitín was brought to America primarily by the Scots-Irish Ulsterman. The first big wave of emigration from Ulster to the 'new colonies' came in the years 1717-20. Six years of drought had ruined the flax and decimated the linen industry, sheep rot had struck in 1716, there was a smallpox epidemic in 1718 and on top of all that rack-renting landlords were becoming even more rapacious than usual. It seemed a good time to move. America offered the opportunity to 'be your own man', to get away from the dominance of the monarchy and the Church of England. Most would go as indentured servants, only a few could afford the passage on their own, but go they did and by 1776 it is estimated that some 350,000 Ulstermen and women were established in the eastern seaboard counties of America. With them they had brought their religion, generally Presbyterianism, their thriftiness, their industry and their talent for making 'John Barleycorn'.

In early days in the colonies, it is claimed, the local water was suspect - this at least is the reason given for the proliferation of alcoholic beverages made from apples, pears, pumpkins parsnips, walnuts, plums, whortleberries, turnips, carrots, persimmons - in fact from virtually every fruit or vegetable available. The still house, a windowless log cabin, was often the centre of village life and the new Ulster colonist, with his experience of poitín-making was in great demand.

The name 'moonshine', which soon came to be applied to all illicit corn liquor derives from 'moonlighter' and was originally used in England to describe the brandy smugglers who landed at night bringing their contraband from Holland and the Low Countries to thirsty English customers. In some parts of the states, notably North Carolina, south-west Virginia and Georgia itself illicit distillers were often called 'blockaders', but throughout we'll stick to the more common term 'moonshiner'- (Bootlegging of course is only really concerned with selling illegal whiskey and not producing it, although occasionally the two functions were combined.)

At first, as in Ireland, distilling was perfectly legal. Whiskey was not taxed in America until 1791 and throughout the eighteenth century the pioneers continued to drink large amounts of every conceivable kind of spirit not only for the intoxicating effect but also because alcohol of all kinds was regarded as being of medicinal use for young and old alike. At this time the most popular drink was 'bumbo' - a mixture of rum, sugar, water and nutmeg and many's the famous person who swore by it. George Washington for example was, he admitted, only finally elected after two failures because he purchased for the 391 electors 169 gallons of rum, wine, beer and cider. His election expenses amounted to £39 7s - of which £34 was for drink.

The Ulster-Irish poured in. Indians, like the Shawnees who had the temerity to get in their way were ruthlessly attacked. Down the great valley between the Appalachian and Blue Ridge mountains they poured for almost forty years. They were acquisitive, belligerent and were to form the backbone of the resistance to English rule when the revolution broke out. They were also canny. It made good economic sense to convert your grain into whiskey. H.F. Wilkie explains the economics of it thus:

The yield from rye distillation was a gallon of whiskey for each 11/2 bushels of grain. One pack horse could carry two eight-gallon kegs of whiskey, or the equivalent of 24 bushels of grain. In its solid form corn or barley would only bring 25 cents a bushel; a horse therefore could only carry two dollars worth, but with a whiskey cargo the horse's payload rose to at least 16 dollars, the asking price for whiskey being at least a dollar a gallon.

So it wasn't just an inherited taste for 'the hard stuff'. Corn whiskey was the common man's best cash crop. A good still as a very necessary appendage to any farm. And so the pioneers continued their rugged and dangerous existence fighting the Indians, the environment and the would-be landlord who laid claim to the virgin territory. They fought with Washington and Morgan and Nelson and 'Nolichucky Jack' Sevier and repulsed the British under Cornwallis and Ferguson and while they fought for American independence their daily ration included half a pint of whiskey. After independence they expected to get their just reward and be left in peace. It was not to be.

On 3 March 1791 Congress, greedy as all governments are, voted in favour of Alexander Hamilton's scheme. In order to pay off the country's 21-million-dollar war debt henceforth whiskey production would be taxed. Praising Hamilton's scheme, Daniel Webster was to say, 'he smote the rock of the national resources and abundant streams of revenue gushed forth.' The average pioneer didn't see it that way. To him it was rank treachery, a savage attack on his livelihood and his independence. Down the Monongaheala River the word spread. 'Pay no excise on whiskey.' Bands of vigilantes, often going under the mythical leadership of 'Tom the Tinker' went round assaulting any excise men brave - or foolhardy - enough to demand the tax. Those who did pay often had their stills wrecked by their neighbours who resented such spinelessness. For three years revolt simmered and little if any whiskey tax was collected in the frontier areas around the Monongaheala Then the Government tried to assert itself. In July 1794 the US District court at Philadelphia issued warrants against 75 known distillers who were refusing to pay the iniquitous tax The subsequent refusal to pay this was to lead to the Whiskey Rebellion.

Of course it was not all about a tax on whiskey. Many people had vested interests in asserting 'States Rights' against the federal authorities. Then too, rumours were rife. It was alleged, and widely believed, that Congress was extending the excise levy to ploughs at a dollar a time, that every wagon entering Philadelphia would have to pay a toll of one dollar, that Pittsburgh was going to introduce a birth tax of 15 shillings for the birth of every boy and ten shillings for the birth of every girl. Such stories were in fact totally untrue, but to the suspicious, independent-minded and truculent pioneer they were but more proof of the Federal authorities' perfidy. Washington tried to calm the situation down by sending commissioners to Pittsburgh who would grant amnesties for any past offences to those who signed an oath of allegiance and promised in the future to pay the hated excise but this only incited the would-be insurgents all the more. 'Damn cheek' was the consensus of opinion - and who, in all conscience could dispute that. And so the 'rebellion broke out.

From the Appletree Press title: In Praise of Poteen.