Banneker’s Answer to Jefferson: “I Am an American”

Edward J. Larson — Tue, 26 Sep 2023 07:42:13 +0000

Banneker’s Answer to Jefferson: “I Am an American” Edward J. Larson Tue, 09/26/2023 - 03:42

Harriett Beecher Stowe and Uncle Tom’s Cabin

David S. Reynolds — Sun, 05 Jan 2020 12:01:52 +0000

Harriett Beecher Stowe and Uncle Tom’s Cabin David S. Reynolds Sun, 01/05/2020 - 07:01

“What, to the American Slave, Is the Fourth of July?”

Bruce Watson — Sun, 30 Jun 2019 09:45:28 +0000

“What, to the American Slave, Is the Fourth of July?” Bruce Watson Sun, 06/30/2019 - 05:45

Compromise - Finding A Way Forward

Edwin S. Grosvenor — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 11:26:32 +0000

Compromise - Finding A Way Forward Edwin S. Grosvenor Fri, 01/21/2011 - 06:26

The Secret Six Behind Harpers Ferry

Jason Emerson — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 11:23:24 +0000

The Secret Six Behind Harpers Ferry Jason Emerson Fri, 01/21/2011 - 06:23

The Abolitionist John Doy

Tom Huntington — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 11:21:52 +0000

The Abolitionist John Doy Tom Huntington Fri, 01/21/2011 - 06:21

The Father of American Terrorism Embodied His Era

Ken Chowder — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 10:31:20 +0000

The Father of American Terrorism Embodied His Era Ken Chowder Fri, 01/21/2011 - 05:31

The Crucial Role of Boston in the Civil War

Dara Horn — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 10:07:49 +0000

The Crucial Role of Boston in the Civil War Dara Horn Fri, 01/21/2011 - 05:07

Middle Passage

Daniel P. Mannix — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 14:56:18 +0000

Middle Passage Daniel P. Mannix Thu, 01/20/2011 - 09:56

Rum — The All-American Drink

Jack Kelly — Sat, 19 Aug 2006 11:00:00 +0000

Rum — The All-American Drink Jack Kelly Sat, 08/19/2006 - 07:00

Date Posted

2006-08-19

“Rum is an American term,” theProhibitionist’s Textbookproclaimed in 1877, “applied to an American invention.” Born in the seventeenth century, rum was one of the first mass-market products manufactured in the New World, and rum making was, after shipbuilding, one of the most important industries of the early colonies.

In his spirited new book, And a Bottle of Rum: A History of the New World in Ten Cocktails(Crown, $24), the travel writer Wayne Curtis enshrines rum in the pantheon of things American. “Rum,” he says, “is the history of America in a glass.”

Rum has a democratic personality that suits an American drink. Of all the spirits it is the least likely to forget its lowly origins. What were those origins? Sugar cane, which had come over with Columbus, thrived in the West Indies. At first planters discarded molasses, the tar-colored byproduct of their sugar refineries. Someone, probably on the island of Barbados, got the idea of letting the stuff ferment and then distilling the mash to produce a drinkable quaff along the lines of brandy. Rum began its life, Curtis notes, as “the distilled essence of fermented industrial waste.”

Rumbullion, as it was called, alias kill-devil, was described in 1651 as “hot, hellish, and terrible.” “The old-fashioned rum Jefferson and Adams ordered would have been cloying, greasy, nasty-smelling stuff,” Curtis reports. Colonists, like generations to come, disguised the flavor in mixed drinks: mimbo, bombo, syllabub, calibogus, and the widely popular flip (beer, rum, and molasses, foamed with a red-hot poker).

Pirates loved rum in any form. Blackbeard, who ravaged shipping off the Carolinas in the early 1700s, had a legendary fondness for it. “Among his cocktails,” Curtis tells us, “was a potion of gunpowder mixed with rum, which he would ignite and swill while it flamed and popped.”

No real-life pirate, though, sang, “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest/Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!” Robert Louis Stevenson originated that familiar ditty in Treasure Island. “If I'm not to have my rum now,” Billy Bones laments to young Jim Hawkins, “I'm a poor old hulk on a lee shore.”

Sailors in His Majesty’s Navy were likewise fond of their ration of rum. So fond that Adm. Edward Vernon decreed that onboard rum be diluted four to one with water. This drink, known as grog, was doled out twice a day in the British Navy from 1756 until the custom was finally retired in 1970.

Northern colonists also downed their share of rum, which in 1700 cost about $4 a bottle in current dollars. The average citizen drank five to seven shots of the crude spirit every day. Efforts by the Crown to regulate the molasses trade, and with it the prosperous New England distilling industry, contributed to the tension that culminated in the Revolution.

Curtis dismisses the conventional wisdom about a triangular trade by which New England rum was exchanged for African slaves, who were shipped to the West Indies to produce the molasses that went into making the rum. “Horrifically elegant,” he says, but “as an historical fact, it lacks only one thing: truth.” Rum did not play a large role in the slave trade. The theory was promoted in the nineteenth century by Southerners who wanted to point the finger of hypocrisy at New England abolitionists and by temperance advocates looking for yet another evil to hang on strong drink.

During the nineteenth century, rum faded, a “relic of the old economy.” Grain, formerly in short supply, became increasingly available for making spirits. There was no reason to import molasses to brew what was considered an inferior drink. Whiskey and beer reigned throughout the 1800s.

In 1919 the temperance army won its ultimate victory with the ratification the Eighteenth Amendment. As Curtis notes, “Prohibition, it turned out, was the best thing to happen to rum.” Drinkers were driven south of the border, especially to Cuba, where they made the acquaintance of the rums of the Bacardi family. Using filters of sand and charcoal, the Bacardis produced a light, dry, elegant rum that won new fans.

With repeal, the drink was in a perfect position to retake a respectable chunk of the U.S. market. “This three-hundred-year-old spirit emerged from its century-long slumber into a bright new day.” The daiquiri, “a perfect blend of lime, sugar, rum, and ice,” became popular. The marriage of rum and lime actually went back to the British Navy’s addition of citrus juice to sailors’ grog rations in order to ward off scurvy.

By the end of World War II, rum was suffering another of its periodic falls from fashion. Vodka came in, and “the future belonged to the transparent.” Yet rum was already poised for its most baroque comeback yet. The new trend began in a tiny saloon in Hollywood called Don the Beachcomber and was amplified by the Trader Vic’s chain of grog shops. By the 1950s it was a national sensation—the tiki bar.

“The tiki movement was in large part a reaction to the times,” Curtis notes. The ersatz South Pacific atmosphere created by thatching, wooden masks, and palm tree trunks was a pleasant diversion in “the era of Wonder bread and iceberg lettuce.” At the core of the movement was the tiki drink, a powerful concoction that invariably included rum. Devotees were invited to rearrange their cranial components with drinks like “Pele’s Bucket of Fire,” the “Molucca Fireball,” and the “Aku-Aku Lapu.” The popular “Zombie” contained five varieties of rum, along with lime juice, bitters, maraschino liqueur, and absinthe, Curtis tells us. “Perhaps it would be wise to locate the coroner before serving this,” a recipe book suggested.

Picking up Curtis’s book is like walking into a bar and sitting down beside a tippler who’s full of stories and knows how to relate them with good humor and sly wit. He’s adept at passing on the most fascinating parts of the tale and not ever boring you. For instance, we learn that a Mai Tai was the first thing Patty Hearst wanted after being sprung from her Symbionese Liberation Army rap.

Through it all, Curtis is delightful company. His obvious affection for both rum and history will beguile many readers into conducting some field research of their own.

Abolition