GENERAL WASHINGTON’S DRINK OF CHOICE

By John P. Cann

Malcolm Bell, Jr., in his essay "The Romantic Wines of Madeira" remarks that in Savannah, where a single ship once discharged five hundred pipes, today one can scarcely find five hundred bottles.1 One is prompted by this statement to wonder, first, how such a nearly insatiable demand developed in colonial North America, and second, why has it nearly vanished? M ADEIRA COMES TO AMERICA The considerable fondness for Madeira in colonial America began oddly enough with the English Parliament under Oliver Cromwell, between 1649 and 1658, and later the monarch Charles II, between 1660 and 1685, and the several laws that each passed governing trade with their colonies. Neither was a particular friend of the colonials and certainly not disposed to favor them. Indeed, the revolt in America against British rule, while an interplay of economic, political, and social forces, was in the final analysis a conflict between the economic interests of the two groups. The economic conflict rested on the theory of mercantilism popular in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. This policy was aimed at building a strong, wealthy, and independent national state based on the promotion of economic independence and a favorable balance of trade. The most famous statutes implementing this policy were the Navigation Acts passed in 1651 under Cromwell, which gave to English shippers a monopoly in carrying trade. Charles II strengthened this trend in 1660 through his act for the Encouraging and Increasing of Shipping and Navigation, which had the effect of restricting all exports from any colony exclusively to England. Not only did England seek to control colonial exports, but by the second Navigation Act, the 1663 Act for the Encouragement of Trade, it sought to monopolize imports into the colonies. The act prohibited through high duties the importation into the colonies of any European good, unless it was brought via England and in English bottoms, a process that through shipping expenses had the same effect as high duties. Exceptions were made in the case of salt from Spain, provisions and horses from Ireland and Scotland, and wine from Madeira and the Azores, and this is where our story really begins.

A typical pipe.2

1 Malcolm Bell, Jr., “The Romantic Wines of Madeira,” Georgia Historical Quarterly (December 1954), 336. 2 The normal Madeira pipe of the eighteenth century was a wooden barrel-like container of 110 gallons, a common unit in the trade. The size of pipes varied, however, depending on the place of manufacture, each with its own capacity regulations, local laws, and norms. Antigua pipes were built to contain 126 gallons, while Barbados, Jamaica, Virginia, and New York pipes were sized at 120 gallons. India pipes were 115 gallons. English law in 1706 mandated that pipes be 126 gallons, but there is no

Notwithstanding the popular notion that the 1662 wedding of Charles II and Catherine of Braganza, the Infanta

of Portugal, had generated a special trading status for Madeira, geography and diplomacy played larger and more significant roles in shaping transatlantic trade. Because of the prevailing winds, ships from Europe followed a southern route to the West Indies and the southern mainland colonies of Britain on an easterly wind. They then travelled the North American coast to New England, where the prevailing westerly winds returned them to England and Northern Europe. Madeira was a relatively easy stop for ships plying this circuitous route, and if they were in ballast, a call there would traditionally generate enough cargo to pay for about two-thirds of the southern leg of the trip. Over time Madeira wines became the cargo of choice and began to find their way to America in increasing quantities, as they were exempt from crown duty, although Madeira in its own right developed as a distribution centre for European goods. During the seventeenth century the cultivation and trade in Madeira came of age. By the end of the century exports had grown to something in excess of 6,000 pipes, representing approximately a three-fold expansion during the period. In 1699 William Bolton, one of the first English wine merchants on the island, complained that there was not enough to meet demand.3

British politicians and diplomats were only too delighted to grant trade preferences to Portugal as a means of checking the commercial maritime power of France. The Anglo-Portuguese commercial treaty, which was negotiated by Paul Methuen in 1703 and which allowed the importation of Portuguese wines into Britain at one-third of the tariff charged on French wines, further strengthened the position of Madeira. This differential discouraged the development of a British market for French wines and an American market for port, which was charged duty on its re-export from Britain. Thus the effect of the trade winds and British mercantile law was to provide the Madeirenses with a strong advantage in developing a wine trade with the colonial "Plantations." At the time of Charles II, these consisted of Jamaica, Barbados, the Leeward Islands, Virginia, New England, New York, Carolina, and Bermuda, potentially an enormous market. During the eighteenth century the number of ships annually leaving Funchal, the capital of Madeira, doubled, and the quantity of wine in them tripled. In the portfolio of American imports wine rose from seventh to fourth.4 This sort of explosive development may have received a push from London, Lisbon, and an advantageous mid-Atlantic location, but it was the business genius of the exporters in Madeira that launched this remarkable trade.

In this case, the "dog that did not bark" was the failure of the British and Portuguese home markets to emerge. The natural ocean currents and wind patterns that allowed vessels to sail quickly and safely to Madeira and on to the Americas discouraged the reverse passage from Funchal to London and the European Continent. It took about the same time to travel directly from Funchal to London as it did to go indirectly by way of British America, if one did not dwell too long in ports along the way.5 Further, port wine was less expensive than Madeira, and thus it along with other substitutes, such as, Carcavelos, discouraged the commercial viability of Madeira in any eastward migration.

Initially, sugar had been a primary product of the islands and grew steadily until 1506, when it began to diminish for a number of reasons: soil exhaustion, pests and plant disease, increasing labour costs, and finally more efficient competition from Brazil.6 As a consequence, the cane fields were gradually converted to vineyards to meet the expanding markets in the Americas and West Indies. By about mid-century wine had displaced all other commodities to become the primary export.

The wine at this time was not fortified, and so fermentation ran its natural course. It was described as a rich wine but never as a sweet wine. Alex Liddell speculates that it had a perceived sweetness because of the intense fruit character of the grape.7 The two primary types at the end of the sixteenth century were undoubtedly similar to wines of the Canary Islands, with the one called malvazia being a rich, sweetish wine and the other, vidonho, being a dry, sack-like one.8 Even at the beginning of the eighteenth century Madeira remained a simple table wine made from a base of must, or incompletely fermented grape juice. The growers and exporters added varying amounts of red must indication that shippers honored this standard. In an era of rising prices and trade, such standards conflicted with practical issues, such as, the scarcity of containers. Even in 1775 the more standard volume for a pipe in London was 110 gallons. Today lodge pipes used for fermentation are sized at 105 gallons, and shipping pipes contain 95 gallons. 3 Bell, 323. 4 David Hancock, “’A revolution in the trade’: wine distribution and the development of the infrastructure of the Atlantic market economy, 1703–1807” in The Early Modern Atlantic Economy, eds. John J. McCusker and Kenneth Morgan (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 109. 5 Ibid., 120. 6 Ibid., 8. 7 Alex Liddell, Madeira (London: Faber and Faber, 1998), 11. 8 Ibid., 13.

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to the white in the fermenting process in order to give it the color, body, smoothness, and flavor that consumers desired.9 By the end of the century, Madeira had become a complex and highly processed beverage in response to the developing tastes and sophistication of its American drinkers. It was increasingly made from single varietals, fortified, heated, agitated, aged, and packaged in customer-specific containers.

Likewise during the eighteenth century, the infrastructure in British America grew exponentially. Ports were built and expanded. Roads were constructed and improved. Shops and markets proliferated. Newspapers flourished. Commercial contacts expanded in a vast network across an advancing frontier. An immense variety of goods were imported from Calcutta, Hamburg, Bristol, and Madeira, and landed in Boston, Philadelphia, Savannah, and Kingston.10 A substantial amount of this vigorous trade skirted the restrictive Navigation Acts and cheated the Crown of its egregious duties. The colonies could not have otherwise grown and prospered. The commercial momentum established during this period remains one of the most dramatic and yet untold stories of British America. The change wrought with the conversion of a near wilderness into a relatively sophisticated and developed community was no less than profound. The population was growing by leaps and bounds, and incomes were the marvel of the Western World. British America had become a vast market waiting to be tapped, and the Madeira wine merchants sensed this signal opportunity. Madeira wine became the premier beverage imported into the thirteen colonies and later the area that was to become the United States, and over the century comprised 64 percent of all wine imports.11 Even though it would drop in volume against other wines, such as, sherry, as the century wore on, it would remain the single largest wine import by value. The most Madeira-thirsty colonies were New York, Virginia, and South Carolina.12 New York remained increasingly so throughout the century, for it was the port of entry for the transportation network serving the markets of the advancing mid-west frontier.

In developing a market and its associated distribution system, the Madeira exporters relied on individual contacts. These agents were able to roam throughout the largely riverine economies of the colonies and particularly those of Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina, where the prosperous inhabitants lived and worked along the major waterways that penetrated deep into the interior. A clear example of this was the Virginia plantation economy that bordered the north bank of the James River and indeed was prevalent throughout the tidewater Chesapeake Bay area. This distribution system was largely informal and irregular, and its selling pattern relied on bulk sales. Wealthy families and emerging public houses would order Madeira by the pipe multiples. Both wealthy rural and urban households would annually request two to four pipes, regardless of price, which they used at home. They would also order a pipe or two of the very best for entertaining their friends and guests. Bottles would also be sold from these household supplies. In Philadelphia, for instance, prominent citizens tasted and selected their Madeira from casks in the cellar of Henry Hill’s house on South 4th Street.13 If the wine were approved, it was purchased, bottled, and carried away. Importers like Hill multiplied exponentially in the last quarter of the century and began to establish a system of their own travelling agents to move their product.

Probably the most common distributors of imported wines were the purveyors of dry goods, as Madeira had become a centre for the distribution of British cloth. Ships carrying cloth from London to America would unload a portion of their cargo in Madeira and replace it with wine. As a consequence, wine and dry goods tended to be distributed through the same channels in the colonies. The specialized wine traders did not appear in numbers until the 1750s and 1760s and then primarily in Charleston, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston.14 It was not until the last quarter of the century that they became regular urban fixtures. The pattern of ship departures from Madeira followed the demand for the wine. In the 1720s ships regularly sailed for Charleston, Virginia, Philadelphia, New York, Boston, Barbados, Antigua, St. Kitts, and Jamaica.15 By the end of the century ships were sailing for virtually every port in North America and the Caribbean. This trade expansion was developed by the Madeira exporters through their personal contact with agents in the colonies and regular conversations with their customer base. This exchange helped them respond to market tastes with special blends and packaging. These adjustments kept the margins strong with luxury pricing for discriminating customers some 2,500 miles away on another continent.

The Madeira exporters devised new grades of wine to meet these tastes and new terminology to accompany them. Varieties, such as, sercial, verdelho, bual, and malvazia, appeared. A new marketing vocabulary was also developed, and wines were termed "opulent" or "lavish," or suitable for "intelligent" or "choice" drinkers.

9 Hancock, 108. 10 Ibid., 127. 11 Ibid., 128. 12 Ibid., 129. 13 Ibid., 133. 14 Ibid., 134. 15 Ibid., 136.

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Testimonials were employed and wines were touted as Lord Nelson’s or General Washington’s favorite. Special wine paraphernalia began to appear with corkscrews, silver decanter labels, crystal decanters, and small crystal glasses for appreciating the colorful and strong wine. All of these devices were part of the elevation of Madeira to its luxury status.

Malcolm Bell also notes that both drinkers and exporters discovered that a long sea journey through hot climates benefited the wine enormously. This process also injected a large measure of romance into each pipe. While it was just simple Madeira when it departed the island, after rolling and pitching in the hold of a sailing ship and being mellowed by the tropical heat and motion, it gained something of the character of the ship. When the huge pipes were eased ashore, it was no longer Madeira wine alone but rather a wonderful Hurricane Madeira from the ship Hurricane. It would be a new Madeira to be tasted and compared with Wanderer, Bramin, Rapid, Three Deacons, Southern Cross, and all of the other Madeiras bearing the names of ships.16

Indeed, aboard ship Madeira also had a practical application as well as a social one. It was a known source of vitamin C and an important antiscorbutic, so when Captain James Cook (then a lieutenant) called at Madeira in 1768 on his first voyage to the South Pacific, he took on board the bark HMS Endeavour 3,032 gallons of fortified wine to prevent scurvy in his 94 crewmen. This represented about 200 bottles per man for the two-and-a-half year voyage.17 The simpler remedy of limes and citrus fruits deteriorated rapidly when sailing through tropical waters, whereas Madeira often did just the opposite. Later in 1784, Horatio Nelson, the 26-year-old captain of the frigate HMS Boreas, purchased a quarter cask of Madeira for his personal use on his way to the West Indies to "stir things up."18

Madeiras were also named for the countries to which they had been transported on the voyage, such as, India, East India, West India, Argentina or Japan. The famous Japan Madeira made the round trip voyage with Commodore Matthew Perry in his ship USS Susquehanna and was returned to the United States in 1854 after his "opening" of Japan. It was subsequently made a gift to The Honorable John P. Kennedy, who had been Secretary of the Navy when the voyage began. In 1895, some twenty-five years after Mr. Kennedy’s death, the remaining 207 bottles were discovered in his former residence.19

Madeiras in America also took the names of the families that had imported them. Travers, Griswold, Lenox, Goelet, and Fearing in New York and Cadwalader and Butler of "Butler 16" fame in Philadelphia were prominent in the North. Middleton, Huger, Ravenel, Pinckney, Gasden, and Rutledge in Charleston were likewise prominent names in the South. In Virginia there were Carters and Fitzhughs, and in Savanna there was Habersham. Amazingly the American public knew its Madeira so well that these bottles might as well have been labeled sercial, bual, or malvazia, as they are today.

Wines were generally shipped in a pipe and within a few years of arrival were transferred to bottles or demijohns, which were large wicker-covered glass carboys holding about five gallons. This procedure would separate the wine from the influence of the oaken pipe. In the mid-Atlantic and northern states the wine was moved soon after arrival, as it was believed that demijohns were the ideal vessel for long-term ageing. Southerners would generally bottle the wine directly from cask within a year or two and perhaps leave a portion in the wood for a period of years. While the pipes were too large to move very high in a house, the smaller vessels were habitually stored in an attic or garret where the warmth aided the wine in its development. Some of the very serious even installed skylights in their roofs, as direct sunlight was considered particularly beneficial to the wine.20

Probably the extreme example of this caring and nurturing occurred in the household of the Savannah businessman William Neyle Habersham, whose family firm, established in 1744, owned a fleet of ships that exported Georgia products and imported among other things wines from Spain and Madeira. At his home he constructed above the ballroom a special two-storied solarium in which he kept an array of demijohns filled with the fine Madeiras of his collection. He would rotate the demijohns frequently to make the most of the sunshine and blend the wines to produce extraordinary Madeiras.21

Nowhere is there a more graphic example of this practice of storing Madeira in attics than the incident at the Chew House on 4 October 1777 during the Battle of Germantown. The Chew House stood in the center of the battlefield and was occupied by British troops. “The house trembles to its foundation, one volley of musquetry after

16 Bell, 328–329. 17 Cossart, 27. 18 Ibid. 19 Cossart, 61. 20 Emanuel Berk, Antebellum Nectar, Champagne & Madeira in Pre-Civil War Charleston & the United States (Sonoma: Rare Wine Co., 2000), 20. 21 Bell, 334.

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another breaks on your ear, and all around is noise and confusion; nothing seen but armed men hurrying to and fro, nothing heard but the thunder of the fight.”22 In the center of this mayhem,

A young officer, standing in the midst of his comrades, felt something from the ceiling, and trickle down his cheek. The fight was fierce and bloody in the attic overhead. They could hear the cannon balls tearing shingles from the roof–they could hear the low, deep groans of the dying. Another drop fell from the ceiling–another and another. “It is blood!” cried his comrades, and a laugh went round the group. Drop after drop fell from the ceiling; and in a moment a thin stream came trickling down, and pattered upon the blood-stained floor. The young officer reached forth his hand, he held it extended beneath the falling stream: he applied it to his lips. “Not blood, but wine!” he shouted. “Good old Madeira wine!” The group gathered round the young officer in wonder. It was wine–good old wine–that was dripping from the ceiling. In a few moments the young officer, rushing through the gloom and confusion of the stairway, had ransacked the attic, and discovered under the eaves of the roof, between the rafters and the floor, some three dozen bottles of old Madeira wine, placed there for safekeeping some score of years before the battle. These bottles were soon drawn from their resting place, and the eyes of the group in the room below were presently astonished by the vision of the ancient bottles, all hung with cobwebs, their sealed corks covered in dust.23

M

ADEIRA BECOMES STYLISH

It is perhaps George Washington himself who has left us with as much useful material as any of his contemporaries on Madeira. In 1759 he placed an "order from the best House in Madeira for a Pipe of the best Old Wine, and let it be secur’d from Pilferers"24 Later in 1763 writing to Madeira, he requests "a Pipe of the best Madeira wine....I would choose a rich oily wine, and if the present vintage should not be good, to have it of the last, or in short of any other which you can recommend.25 In 1764 he received the wine and responded: "lyes yet untasted, but from your recommendation of it I shall suppose it good and therefore desire you will send me such another Pipe and draw as before...."26 In 1768 he writes to Scott Pringle Cheape & Co:

Gentn By Capt Dent bound to the Madeiras (a careful honest Man) and who will return with his Vessel to this River again, I should be obliged to you for sending me a Butt (of about one hundred and fifty gallons) of your choicest Madeira wine. A small box not exceeding 15 or 20 pounds of citron. And if there is nothing improper or inconsistent in the request a few setts or cuttings of the Madeira grape (that kind I mean of which the Wine is made) but if in requiring this last Articles there be any sort of impropriety I beg that no notice may be taken of it.... The Butt of Wine which you sent to me by Capt Montgomery in Augt 1766 came safe to hand, and will I hope prove good (having made no use of it yet). By coming safe to hand I would be understood to mean that it did not appear to have undergone any kind of Adulteration; there was a good deal of ullage indeed, and what I disliked still more was a large Tap in the head of the Cask which left me in doubt whether it was done on the Passage (which occasioned the deficiency) or was in the cask before Shipping of it (as the Sailors who delivered it to me affirmed).27 The details of Washington’s orders throw light on his personality and on his relations with colleagues and allies.

He worried endlessly about pilferage and adulteration, and his letters are peppered with complaints. He stipulates precautions to be taken and comments on the honesty of captains with their cargo. His correspondence suggests that he ordered about two pipes annually, the modern equivalent of about 1,000 bottles. Unlike contemporaries, he does not appear concerned with customs, and one wonders whether he is scrupulous in payment or adept in avoidance.

In this regard, Madeira became a patriotic wine with its wide use, and this is nowhere more evident than in the incident of the Liberty. The altercation actually began in the spring of 1768, when tensions between radical Bostonians and British officials in the city were reaching dangerous levels. Much of the unrest was rooted in enforcement of the unpopular Townshend Acts, which were generally aimed at enforcing trade regulations and

22 George Lippard, The Legends of the American Revolution “1776” or Washington and His Generals (Philadelphia: T.B. Peterson & Brothers, 1876), 57. 23 Ibid. 24 John C. Fritzpatrick, ed., The Writings of George Washington from the Original Manuscript Sources, vol. 2 (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1931), 321 25 Ibid., 398. 26 Ibid., 412. 27 Ibid., 481.

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enhancing taxing authority to collect duty. Ultimately, this resistance would prompt the occupation of Boston by British troops and result in the Boston Massacre of 1770.

In April 1768, two customs officials boarded the Lydia, a ship belonging to John Hancock, who was one of the wealthiest merchants in New England and a leading critic of British colonial policy. The inspectors were forcibly removed from the ship, as they lacked the proper written authorization. While Hancock had acted within the law, he became a marked man in the eyes of HM Customs. Two months later on 10 June, Hancock’s sloop Liberty was seized by HM Customs when it docked on the grounds that it was smuggling Madeira. The captain proposed that half the cargo be landed free of duty. This offer was refused. Hancock himself came to the dock and organized the landing of the wine shipment, whereupon the customs agents arrested the ship. A crowd quickly assembled and began to stone the agents, who sought refuge in the ship’s cabin for safety. The situation rapidly degenerated, and the mob made a bonfire of the inspector general’s launch and amid general riot drank a great deal of Madeira. One cannot help noticing the significant difference between this event and the more staid Boston Tea Party later in December 1773.

In the days before Madeira was a fortified wine, the social style in colonial America and the West Indies was to consume it in large quantities similar to the way port was drunk after foxhunting in England. Washington is described as drinking a pint at dinner daily, and the portrait artist Gilbert Stuart had a taste for the best Madeiras, "which he poured from a half gallon ewer, throwing off tumblers like cider in haying time."28 Enthusiastic Madeira drinkers included Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and Chief Justice John Marshall, who was famous for his boisterous lawyers’ parties. John Rutledge, who was governor of South Carolina and later the Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, kept two pipes in his cellar and drank a bottle daily with his family and two or more, if guests were present. Daniel Webster is reputed to have visited a friend and remained until he had drunk a dozen bottles of the famous "Butler 16" Madeira, so named for a Major Butler who had owned a popular and noteworthy 1716 vintage wine.29 This practice changed with fortification of the wine, although it was still consumed in large quantities.

The addition of brandy to Madeira began in the second quarter of the eighteenth century as an experiment and did not become widespread until there had been considerable discussion with consumers. It may have been an American innovation, as it is first mentioned publicly in the 1743 edition of Poor Richard’s Almanac.30 On the island Francis Newton first discusses it in his 1753 correspondence with an American who had complained of his wine being acidic. Newton traces this problem to "not putting a bucket of brandy or two in each pipe as other houses do."31 By mid-century brandy was the obvious solution to stabilizing the wine, as it gave sour wines a smooth taste, moderated naturally sweet wines, and added alcoholic strength. This addition led to broader modifications in the wine formula to suit the American palates. In the West Indies and the southern colonies a dark sweet wine sold best. In contrast consumers in the north demanded dryer, paler wines. South Carolinians and Virginians preferred pale white wines moderately fortified. Philadelphians preferred golden wines with slightly more brandy and body. New Yorkers wanted an amber, reddish wine highly fortified. In summary, each market required its own blend.32

Buying and drinking Madeira sent a number of signals by 1775. Among them was that a wine drinker had money and a Madeira drinker more, and such signs were present everywhere, signifying an emerging social elite. George Washington served Madeira to his friends. The less well off served Madeira less often or offered less expensive wines, and the poor favored spirits. The act of dining would likewise have been strangely incomplete to the affluent without a glass of Madeira filled from a bottle or decanter displayed on a sideboard. Such practices were important, as they defined a southern planter’s self-image as refined, genteel, and hospitable, and are reflected in the accounts given by William Byrd II, Landon Carter, Philip Fithian, and George Washington of their entertaining.33

As glassware became commonplace, not only the type of glass but the way in which it was held separated the refined from the pedestrian. The less sophisticated would grip a tumbler firmly while the stylish would hold stemware by the foot. It is recorded that young George Washington and his cousin Lawrence teased a friend mercilessly “for holding the wine glass in the full hand.”34 Glass props were important, for as they evolved in craftsmanship and design, there was great social pressure to have the latest, most fashionable stemware. Indicative

28 Van Wick Brooks, The Flowering of New England, 1815–1865 (New York: E.P. Dutton, 1937), cited in Bell, 327. 29 Ibid. 30 Hancock, 142. 31 Ibid. 32 Ibid., 143. 33 David Hancock, Oceans of Wine: Madeira and the Emergence of American Trade and Taste (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009), 288. 34 Hancock, 343.

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of this development were preparations for the wedding of Martha Dandridge Custis and Colonel George Washington, as neither she nor her husband were content to use their outdated glassware for the celebration and ordered crates of replacements á la mode from London.35

In keeping with the evolving style of stemware, the wine glasses were small, delicate, hand-blown, "pipe stem" affairs, so that the wine might be better admired, and the strong liquid consumed in measured amounts. Between tastings they were hung inverted from the notched rim of a Monteith bowl to permit the bell of the glass to be suspended and rinsed in cool water. This type of fluted or paneled bowl could be silver, pewter, glass or porcelain and was popular in England, Ireland Scotland and British America from the late seventeenth century onward. It was named after an eccentric Scotsman called Monteigh, who wore a cloak with a scalloped hem. A similar vessel in France was known variously as a rafraîchissoir, a verrière, or a seau crénelé. Thomas Jefferson purchased at least one during his time there.

With the rise in status of Madeira, it began to be used to crown friendships, and gifts of it served as emblems of appreciation. The Philadelphia merchant Daniel Roberdeau in 1764 wrote to a Portuguese wine firm to send a “quarter cask of Madeira…without any regard to price” and the very best that the island afforded to honor “a particular friend of note in London.”36 In 1775 Thomas Jefferson shipped his former professor at the College of William and Mary 36 bottles of Madeira. However, when Washington learned that his niece in a bout of generosity had given over 56 bottles of Madeira as presents in a single year, he ordered a halt to such munificence and asked that she give Madeira only to “particular and intimate acquaintances,” “some of the most respectable foreigners,” and “persons of some distinction.”37

A somewhat inverted interpretation of this code of generosity occurred during the Battle of Ticonderoga in 1777. On 20 June the British Army under Major General John Burgoyne assembled in the St. Lawrence River for its advance south to attack the American colonies by way of the Lake Champlain route. On 1 July, Burgoyne’s army arrived at Fort Ticonderoga and began infiltrating the hills overlooking it, dragging guns to their summits and opening fire. The Fort was defended by American troops under the command of Major General Arthur St. Clair in an effort to prevent the British advance south; however, it quickly became indefensible in the face of the artillery barrage, and St. Clair made the decision to abandon it in secrecy during the night of 5-6 July. An American rear guard remained to contest any British advance and cover the withdrawal, and in due course even that party fell back, leaving a “forlorn hope” of four men posted at a heavy gun with the duty of suicidally firing into the British as they assaulted the Fort. To bolster their courage in the face of what was thought to be certain death, the four had been gifted a barrel of Madeira by their departing comrades. When the redcoats entered the Fort, they discovered the four men lying around the gun, incapably drunk with the empty Madeira barrel next to them. Military science of the day prescribed the use of Madeira for celebrating victories, of which there were few, for encouraging enlistment, and for insulating fatigue parties against the effects of hard work and bad weather. It was used even more liberally when there was no object in view.38

War apparently did little to dampen the civilities associated with Madeira, for when Washington attended a session of the New York Provincial Congress the evening of 18 June 1776 at Faunces Tavern, the bill submitted by Sam Faunces for “6 dozen and 6 bottles of Madeira” remained in step with the traditional colonial thirst quotient.39 Although observers at Washington’s headquarters noted that while his favorite Madeiras were the vintages of 1759 and 1763, as the war wore on, he would drink Madeira of any year.40 During the war both Washington and the Continental Army exhibited an enormous thirst for Madeira. Washington’s initial entry in his expense tally for a cask of Madeira occurs on 8 August 1775 to William Vans of the military supply depot Vans and Sparhawk. Recorded trips to Mr. Sparhawk recur so frequently that one wonders if drinking Madeira was an inalienable American right.41 Later on 11 October, he purchased 108 bottles, and on 22 October, 109 bottles.42 On 20 January 1776, Washington switched his wine account to Paschal N. Smith, a Cambridge merchant, with the purchase of a pipe. It is not known whether Mr. Vans’ cellar ran dry or whether Mr. Smith gave better value.43

Washington’s dinners and later suppers could be crowded affairs, depending on where he was headquartered. Sometimes he, his aides, and perhaps 20 to 30 guests sat on little more than campstools at a table. In the field, dinner 35 Ibid., 365. 36 Ibid., 391. 37 Ibid., 392. 38 Martin Kitman, George Washington’s Expense Account (New York: Harper & Row, 1970), 144. 39 Ibid. 40 Ibid., 131, 41 Ibid., 143. 42 Ibid., 164. 43 Ibid., 166.

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remained at 3 o’clock, and later a supper at 9 o’clock. Consistent with visitors’ accounts, Washington would offer a toast of Madeira to the health of different individuals as the meal progressed.44

Records of the war show that much Madeira was consumed in the drinking of high-minded toasts, for toasting was an important celebration in colonial America. Toasts took two primary forms, “healths” and “sentiments.” There was a generally understood order to health toasts at any gathering, with “The King” being first. He was followed by “The Queen” and “The Prince of Wales and Royal Family.” By June 1774, the colonial populace was showing no enthusiasm for the King’s birthday and little for toasting his health at any time. Less than a year later, Benjamin Rush, the noted Philadelphia physician and signer of the Declaration of Independence, observed a dramatic incident in which royalty’s after dinner prerogatives were ignored in favor of General Washington. The occasion was a dinner given in his honor by delegates and Philadelphia citizens a few days after his appointment as Commander-in-Chief on 19 June 1775:

The first toast that was given after dinner was “The Commander in Chief of the American Armies.” General Washington rose from his seat, and with some confusion thanked the company for the honor they did him. The whole company instantly rose, and drank the toast standing. This scene, so unexpected, was a solemn one. A silence followed it, as if every heart was penetrated with the awful, but great events which were to follow…. 45 This event set a new precedent of toasts, providing a revised priority, and on Washington’s 1798 birthday

evening ball at Gadsby’s Tavern in Alexandria, one of a company of gentlemen offered the first toast, “The hero whose birth we celebrate – may the virtuous principles which ever have influenced his conduct be preserved through succeeding generations.”46

Sentiment toasts also reflected change, and by October 1774, when the House of Representatives of the Province of Pennsylvania entertained the entire Continental Congress at the City Tavern, John Adams witnessed:

A sentiment was given: “May the sword of the parent never be stained with the blood of her children.” Two or three broad-brims [Quakers] over against me at table; one of them said, this is not a toast, but a prayer; come let us join in it. And they took their glasses accordingly.47

Still, among the troops, the most favored sentiment toast was, “To the health and success of the ladies.”48 During the war when Washington was not in the field, his favorite mess hall was the City Tavern on Walnut

Street in Philadelphia. When it opened in 1773 as a proper and suitably elegant meeting place, John Adams pronounced it a “most genteel” tavern. Its specialty was baked oysters hot in their shells, and on crowded evenings the piles of shells were small mountains. The Madeira flowed like water there, and Negro waiters appeared as if by magic to attend to a diner’s need. The second floor Long Room was the scene of many famous gatherings, including the first and second July Fourth anniversary parties and the Meschianza Ball honoring Lord Howe.49 However, the greatest celebration there was the dinner in honor of Washington at the height of the Constitutional Convention in September 1787. By the standards of today the banquet seems excessive. The tab for the 55-man gathering listed 54 bottles of Madeira, 60 bottles of claret, 22 bottles of porter, and 7 bowls of spiked punch. The 16 musicians present played through 7 more bowls of punch, 5 bottles of Madeira and 16 of claret.50

44 A.J. Schenkman, “General Washington and his walnuts,” The Valley Table 50 (June-August 2010), http://www.valleytable.com/article.php?article=007+Deja+Vu%2FGeneral+Washington+and+his+walnuts (accessed 10 February 2012). 45 George W. Corner, ed., The Autobiography of Benjamin Rush (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1948), 112–113. 46 Bonny Wolf, “February Feasts: Tonight We’re Going to Party Like It’s 1799, The Washington Post (13 February 2002), http://gwpapers.virginia.edu/articles/news/wolf.html (accessed 10 February 2012). 47 John Adams, “Diary,” in Charles Francis Adams, ed., The Works of John Adams, II (Boston, Little, Brown & Co., 1865), 400, http://oll.libertyfund.org/?option=com_staticxt&staticfile=show.php%3Ftitle=2100&chapter=159602&layout=html&Itemid=27 (accessed 10 February 2012). 48 Kitman, 144. 49 The Meschianza, a fabricated name loosely connected to the Italian word for medley, was an extensively planned series of events which took place during a week in May 1778 at “Walnut Grove,” the estate of Joseph Wharton, now called 5th and Wharton Streets. General Howe did not campaign in winter, if he could avoid it, and he and his troops spent the off-season of 1777-1778 partying in the enemy capital of Philadelphia. This stood in stark contrast to General Washington, his continental Army, and their experience at Valley Forge during the same period. The British celebration began with a trip down the river on festooned barges with canon fire, singing, and music. This was followed by a mock jousting tournament by horsemen of the British Army. The festivities concluded with a lavish dinner and ball in the Long Room at City Tavern. 50 Kitman, 189.

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In 1803, there was a famous dinner in New Orleans to celebrate ratification of the Louisiana Purchase by France, Spain, and the United States. When time came for the traditional toasts, the ministers of each country were honored in series with toasts using the traditional wine of their countries: France with Champagne, Spain with Malaga, and the United States with Madeira.51

Trade and shipping embargoes during the war largely blocked Madeira imports into the rebellious colonies, and this resulted in growing inventories in the exporters’ warehouses. This also allowed stocks an opportunity to age and mature, and when shipments resumed following the war, consumers found they preferred the aged wine. Madeira thus evolved from the mediocre table wine of previous century into a refined product. After the war between 1788 and 1828, when the largest westbound shipments occurred, the price of Madeira rose from an average of £20 per pipe to £45 per pipe, as it was now a higher quality wine.52 The elevated price and with it the emerging luxury status of Madeira changed drinking habits, and it was during this period that it began to be drunk and appreciated in fine, small glasses with an emphasis on the differences between the various types. Devotees began to allocate an extended period of time after dinner to tasting, discussing, and comparing the various wines, although still consuming them in considerable quantity. As the century wore on, this practice developed into an even more refined social affair known as the Madeira Party. Family and guests would gather around the traditional gleaming mahogany dining table to taste five or six Madeiras. The room would be lit by candelabras and blazing logs in a deep hearth. The Madeira decanters would sit atop the mantle to maintain their proper temperature. There were usually some hors d’oeuvres in the form of olives, almonds, groundnuts, and a few biscuits. Traditionally, the decanted Madeira would be placed in front of the host, who would then serve the guest to his right and pass the decanter to the guest on his left. The Madeira was then passed to the left all the way around the table to return to the host. This clockwise pattern was reminiscent of the circuitous voyage Madeira-laden ships made around the Atlantic. This celebration was the forerunner of modern-day wine tastings.

A hint of the character of these privileged wines is contained in auction descriptions at the time. At the auction of the estate of Mr John Vaughan in Philadelphia on 18 November 1841, one lot was described as “Phelps, Phelps & Laurie’s Splendid Old East India Madeira, of two voyages in the wood, bottled in London Docks, under inspection. Stored at Natchez, Miss. From Nov. 1837, to April 1839.” Another lot was described as 120 bottles of:

Splendid Sercial, Vintage of 1806, of the Private Stock of Count Calvalhall. Exclusive growth of 1806. Confiscated by Dom Miguel, and carried from Madeira to Lisbon, in 1829. Returned to the Calvalhall family on the restoration of the Queen of Portugal. Purchased of the family in 1834 by Wm. Phelps, Esq. Importer’s signature on the labels.53 Today these wines and the celebration of Madeira in America are little more than the memory of a glorious era.

Its connection was broken, first, by the Civil War and, later, by crippling disease in the vines on the island. World War I and the emergence of the cocktail era reduced the practice of enjoying Madeira to a passionate few. In retrospect, there has never been a wine in the history of the North American continent with the prestige of Madeira. For a span of nearly 200 years from the late seventeenth century to the end of the nineteenth century Madeira as a beverage dominated the social scene. In 1813 some 22,000 pipes were exported from the island, and today the level of exports has dropped to about 6,000. Perhaps this is a natural evolution for a wine that flourished in the relatively unhurried world of earlier centuries and that ill-fits the more noisy and rushed one of today. These wines of Madeira, which were at one time so much a part of the American scene, are now hardly more than a memory.

--ooOoo—

John P. Cann is a member of the Maryland Society, a retired professor at the Marine Corps Command and Staff College, and a retired naval captain.

51 Mannie Berk, “America’s First Wine: Madeira on the Fourth of July,” Rare Wine Company, 2 July 2009, http://blog.rarewineco.com/?p=313 (accessed 10 February 2012). 52 Noël Cossart, Madeira, the Island Vineyard (London: Christie’s, 1984), 58. 53 As quoted in Roy Brady, “America’s Madeira Tradition” in History in a Glass, ed. Ruth Reichl (New York: Random House, 2006), 199.

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English wine glasses owned by Thomas Jefferson. Photograph used with the kind permission of the Monticello/Thomas Jefferson Foundation, Inc.54

Illustration of a demijohn from the book A Century Past with

kind permission of the author, Emanuel Berk.

54 These two lead-crystal glasses are decorated with a band of wheel-cut sprig and oval engraving and are illustrative of one of the many styles of stemware that Jefferson owned, some of which still survive.

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Jefferson’s surviving seau crénelé. Photograph used with the kind permission of the Monticello/Thomas Jefferson Foundation, Inc.55

55 Jefferson's surviving seau was manufactured in about 1787 by Sèvres located between Paris and Versailles and was decorated in its Cornflower Garland (guirlande de barbeaux) pattern by Genevieve Le Roy Taillandier, who was paid by the piece for work she did at home. This pattern was made almost exclusively for Louis XVI, and it is not known how Jefferson came to acquire a part of the royal service.

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A sterling Monteigh bowl with gold washed interior made by James Dixon & Sons, Sheffield, England, 1899. Photograph courtesy of the author.

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Thomas Jefferson’s Madeira Decanter. Photograph used with the kind

permission of the Monticello/Thomas Jefferson Foundation, Inc.56

56 This elegant decanter, with its engraved grapevine pattern, was uncovered in 1981 during archaeological excavations at Monticello. Engraved with the word "Madeira" on its center medallion, it is of a type popular in the late 1760s and 1770s and suggests Thomas Jefferson's fondness at the time for Madeira. Later while serving as a diplomat in France between 1784 and 1789, he developed a taste for the fine, light wines of France and Italy, and thereafter found Madeira "entirely too powerful." Nevertheless, he continued to serve Madeira at Monticello and at the President’s House in Washington.

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Reproduction of a Virginia pierced Madeira decanter label marked “IG” for James Geddy

(1731-1807), a Williamsburg silversmith. This early mark is still used on all silver produced at The Golden Ball, Colonial Williamsburg, and this particular piece carries the modern mark of

George Cloyed, the actual craftsman. Photograph by the author

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