“Just as I dismounted at Tradaway’s, I found a drunken Club dismissing. Most of them had got upon their horses, and were seated in an oblique situation, deviating much from a perpendicular to the horizontal plane, a posture quite necessary for keeping the center of gravity within its proper base, for the support of the superstructure; hence we deduce the true physical reason why our heads overloaded with liquor become too ponderous for our heels. Their discourse was as oblique as their position: the only thing intelligible in it was oaths and Goddamnes; the rest was an inarticulate sound like Rableais’ frozen words a thawing, interlaced with hickupings and belchings. I was uneasy until they were gone, and my landlord [Thomas Treadway], seeing me stare, made that trite apology – that indeed he did not care to have such disorderly fellows come about his house; he was always noted far and near for keeping a quiet house and entertaining gentlemen or such like, but these were country people, his neighbors, and it was not prudent to disoblige them upon slight occasions. ‘Alas, sir!’ added he, ‘we that entertain travellers much strive to oblige everybody, for it is our daily bread.’ While he spoke thus, our Bacchanalians, finding no more rum in play, rid off helter-skelter as if the devil had possessed them, every man sitting his horse in a see-saw manner like a bunch of rags tied upon the saddle.” So writes Hamilton at the very beginning of his journey.
Alexander Hamilton was born close to Edinburgh in 1712, into a family belong-ing to the Scottish landed class. After earning a degree in Medicine from the pres-tigious University of Edinburgh, he left for Maryland in 1738 and made his home in Annapolis, where he practiced as a physician for the rest of his life. In 1744, concerned about his health condition, he prescribed himself “a good dose of fresh air and physical exercise with a journey on horseback”. Over the summer, he spent four full months riding roughly 1,600 miles throughout the northern colo-nies, reaching as far as Maine (then still part of Massachusetts). He lingered in major urban centers such as Philadelphia, New York, and Boston, but his route also led him through tiny settlements and isolated dwellings.
“Dr. Alexander Hamilton’s Itinerarium is one of the happiest combinations of liveliness, wit, and instructive information written in colonial America. The description of his journey from Maryland to Maine and back in 1744 is unequalled by any other writer. … In 1744 such a trip as the doctor proposed required careful planning months in advance of departure; it was an adventure little comprehended today. Each colony had his own paper money, which passed at different rates, and arrangements for credit had to be made in order to avoid the danger of traveling with large sums of cash on one’s person. Letters of introduction to prominent gentlemen in the places to be visited were essential both as financial and as social passports. … Yet a surprising number from all ranks were on the move in 1744. … At no time did Dr. Hamilton complain of bad roads, or either of danger or poor service in the fifty ferry crossings he carefully recorded. Moreover, his personal safety was never once threatened ” (Carl Bridenbaugh Introduction)
Dr. Hamilton usually slept in taverns he encountered along the way or selected within the cities; at times he stayed in private homes, though most evenings were spent in public houses. Hamilton was a sharp, educated, open minded, and in-quisitive individual, even though perhaps with a bit of a stuck-up attitude. In his travel diary, Itinerarium; being a narrative of a journey from Annapolis, Maryland…—later known as Gentleman’s Progress—he recounts his trip day by day. His writing is lively and elegant, offering a wealth of first-hand observations that are both informative and often unexpectedly revealing about daily life and culture in the British Continental Colonies. During his stops in taverns or while travel-ing, he frequently encountered other wayfarers. Some had just come from the West Indies or were preparing to sail there, illustrating the strong connections among the various regions of British America.
Above all, taverns were places for conversation. As Hamilton notes, “in taverns people chatted” about business, everyday life, politics, religion and so on. More-over, people exchanged information and questioned passing travelers who brought news from the places they came from. Often, these were the only sources of information available to ordinary folks. Newspapers were just beginning, and, of course, modern mass media didn’t exist yet. Often, educated patrons discussed History, Philosophy and the Arts, too.
Religion in particular was a constant topic, given the multitude of competing Churches in the Colonies and the ardor of ‘New Light’ followers of the English evangelist, George Whitefield, responsible for what is most likely the first great and spontaneous American movement: The Great Awakening.
Political discussions, instead, focused mainly on the fear of a French invasion. It is worth remembering that at the time France held dominion over Canada and had just entered into war Great Britain, for the so called War of Jenkin’s Ear, which had broken out between England and Spain in 1739, (see HISTORY OF CUBAN RUM 3. THE KEY TO THE INDIES in the September 2022 issue) was, in 1744, about to merge with the Anglo-French struggle known as King George’s War.
One striking contrast with today’s bar culture was the absence of sports talk—spectator sports would not emerge until the following century. Another major difference: taverns were exclusively male spaces. Respectable women did not go to taverns, with the exception of the owner’s wife and doughters. “We put up att a publick house kept by one Thomas where the landlady looked after every thing herself, the landlord being drunk as a lord. The liquor had a very strange effect upon him, having deprived him of the use of his tongue. He sat motionless in a corner smoking his pipe and would have made an elegant figure upon arras.” Hamilton quickly realized that all over the colonies, tavern goers drank heavily. Members of the upper classes, including himself, favored Madeira and punch, while ordinary people consumed rum and cider.
Later on during his journey he also came across Clubs, where members, usually from the upper classes, met to discuss issues of common interest, and to drink until they were plastered and collapsed under the table. One such club was the Hungarian Club in New York: “After supper they set in for drinking, to which I was averse, and therefore sat upon nettles. They filled up bumpers at each round, but I would drink only three, which were to the King, Governour Clinton, and Governour Bladen, which last was my own. Two or three toapers in the company seemed to be of opinion that a man could not have a more sociable quality or endurement than to be able to pour down seas of liquor, and remain unconquered, while others sank under the table. I heard this philosophical maxim, but silently dissented to it.”
And, on leaving New York, he writes:
“The people of New York att the first appearance of a stranger are seemingly civil and courteous, but this civility and complaisance soon relaxes if he be not either highly recommended or a good toaper. To drink stoutly with the Hungarian Club, we are all bumper men, is the readiest way for a stranger to recommend himself, a a sett among them are very fond of making a stranger drunk. To talk bawdy and to have a knack att punning passes among some there for good sterling with. Govr. Clinton himself is a jolly toaper and gives good example and, for that one quality, is esteemed among these dons. … I was tired of nothing here but their excessive drinking“
In mid-July, Hamilton arrived in Boston, then the largest town in British America.
When he was in town, Hamilton was often invited in the afternoon to have tea at the home of an acquaintance, and the women of the household also took part in the conversation. In the evening, however, he drank punch and wine—without overindulging—in the company of men only, in the coffee houses, which were more respectable, less alcohol centered, establishments than taverns. A few times, he writes in his diary that he went to bed without drinking, evidently a piece of news worth mentioning.
Around him, things were different, rum was everywhere, a lot of people drank too much, and drunkness was common.
“About three miles before I reached York I saw the man of war commanded by Commodore Warren lying in Turtle Bay. This was a festival day with the crew, They were a roasting an entire ox upon a wooden spit and getting drunk as fast as they could. Warren having given them a treat. … We met with an old chattering fellow … We could scarcely get rid of this fellow till we made him so drunk with rum that he could not walk.”
Not just ordinary people, also “the better sort” got drunk: “About 10 o’ clock there came to us a drunken doctor who was so intoxicated with liquor that he could scarce speak one connected sentence. He was much chagrined with some people for calling him a quack”.
And sometimes, Hamilton drank too much, too: “New York … Monday, September 10th. I dined this day with Mr. Bayard’s brother, and after dinner we tossed about the bumpers so furiously that I was obliged to go home and sleep for three hours and be worse than my word to Mr. Hasell, with whom I had promised to spend the evening.” Therefore, “I was sorry to leave New York upon account of being separated from some agreeble acquaintance I had contracted there, and at the same time I cannot but own that I was glad to remove from a place where temptation of drinking 8a thong so incompatable with my limber constitution) threw it self so often in my way.”
At the end of September, Hamilton was back home again. “I arrived att Annapolis att two o’ clock afternoon and so ended my perigrinations. In this my northeren travels I compassed my design in obtaining a better state of health, which [was] the purpose of my journey. I found but little difference in the manners and characters of the people in the different provinces I passed thro’, but as to constitutions and complexions, air and goverment, I found some variety. … In this itieration I completed, by land and water together, a course of 1624 miles. The northeren parts I found in generall much better settled than the southeren. As to politeness and humanity, they are much alike except in the great towns where the inhabitants are more civilized, especially att Boston. FINIS”
POST SCRIPTUM
Habent sua fata libelli, which means, more or less, Books have their own desti-nies. “The manuscript of the Itinerarium has had an unusually interesting history. Commercial contacts between the English colonies and the Italian states were few and far between in the eighteenth century. Occasionally a colonial vessel ventured to Leghorn, and even less frequently did a native of Italy reach American shores. When Dr. Hamilton returned from his tour in September, 1744, he met an Italian gentleman, Onorio Razolini, for whom he came to have a great affection which he expressed felicitously in the Latin dedication of his journal. When the signor left Maryland he carried with him the manuscript” (Bridenbaugh). The manuscript re-mained in the possession of the family of Razolini for more than a century, than passed into the hand of an Italian bookseller that sold it to a London bookseller. Several further changes of ownership followed; the book eventually made its way to America and was published in a private edition in 1907. Finally, in 1948, this edition appeared.
Marco Pierini
