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George Washington before the Battle of Trention. John Trumbull.  (ca. 1792-94. )

    Taverns at the Center of Hudson Valley Revolutionary Politics and Warfare

 

As school children, we are taught to revere (no pun intended, really) George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and our other Founding Fathers for their roles as statesmen and revolutionaries. The paintings of Gilbert Stuart and John Trumbull depict them with overflowing dignity, composure, and impossibly shapely thighs in tight breeches. In Trumbull’s “George Washington before the Battle of Trenton,” we can look past the general to see trouble brewing in the distance. An artillery commander in the Continental Army is giving commands preparing for the British attack; Redcoats are creeping in from the shadows. Smoke is rising; the general’s horse is rearing and foaming at the mouth with anxiety, his groom is determined to hold the reins amid the wreckage of a gun carriage. However, a svelte-looking Washington is unphased; calm, poised, and gently extending his looking glass, he wears an expression that says, “I’ve got this, now hand me my beer.” There is no beer in the painting. There is no Madeira, Port, rum punch, or whiskey pictured either, but drink he did - drink they all did - in the taverns across the colonies. One might even argue that without liquor fueled camaraderie found in taverns, America would not exist as we know it. School teachers understandably choose to overlook this, although local field trips often include locations that claim “George Washington slept here.”

 

Importance of Taverns

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Though locals patronized taverns and inns to share food and drink with their community, most colonists were proficient at home brewing or distilling. Much of early America’s water was diseased and putrid, so ales and ciders were consumed instead. The Hudson Valley’s abundance of apple orchards would have led to mass production of hard ciders, apple wines, and another colonial favorite, applejack. Tavernkeepers made applejack in-house, quickly produced by setting hard cider out to freeze. The ice purifies and separates from the concentrated alcohol, which is then siphoned, refrozen, and divided again and again until it is ready for bottling. A colonial traveler might judge the quality of a tavern (or a man’s home) on the quality of his ale; bad booze, you lose. George Washington, a rare beer snob among wine drinkers, was confident enough in his recipe for beer that he documented it in various notebooks and letters. One version is now housed at the New York Public Library:

 

To make Small Beer

Take a large Siffer full of Bran

Hops to your taste – Boil these

3 hours. Then strain out 30 Gall[ons]

Into a Cooler[.] put in 3 Gall[ons]

Molasses into the Cooler & strain

the Beer on it while boiling Hot[.]

let this stand till it is little more

than Blood warm then put in

a quart of Ye[a]st[.] if the Weather is 

very Cold cover it over with a Blank[et]

& let it Work in the Cooler 24 hours

Then put it into the Cask – leave the

Bung open til it is almost done 

working – Bottle it that day week

It was Brewed[.] 

 

George recorded this as a young Colonel in 1757, and though it was to be another two years before he would marry his future wife, Martha Custis, we can only hope he cared so much for her when she caught a chill. Typical 18th-century Hudson Valley tavern menus might offer selections including rye bread, tea, cheese, boiled beef or pork, eggs, mutton, soups, chicken, biscuits, stewed vegetables, and fresh fish (notably cod and mackerel), though certainly not all at once. Many of these were common foods for tradesmen, merchants, and settlers in the Hudson Valley and Catskills - if you were envisioning the hipster gastro-pubs of the Hudson Valley today, think again.

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In New York’s Hudson Valley and all across New England, taverns served as the social centers of rural communities. Like the bars of today, colonial taverns were places like-minded individuals could gather, debate, introduce and promote political and social agendas. All this, while imbibing in booze and perhaps a bite to eat. Part boy’s club, part municipal office! Taverns (also commonly referred to as inns, public houses, and ordinaries at the time) also provided rooms for lodging travelers and safe places to wait out delays or treacherous conditions. Serving as community hubs, 18th century taverns were at the center of a growing independence movement in the colonies. Individuals gathered there to hear, or overhear, the news from elsewhere conveyed by travelers or another literate patron. Discussion and debate would often follow – democracy at its finest! Likeminded people formed groups that, in many cases, continued meeting in the ordinaries to discuss, debate, and organize; local assemblies and courts held sessions in taverns. The fabled Sons of Liberty bonded over brews from Boston to Charleston, with its communications center based in New York’s ordinaries. After all, taverns were where literate citizens and intellectuals shared ideas, including independence and violent plans for retaliation against Loyalist officials.

 

Ordinaries were at the heart of even the best known tales of the American Revolution. Contrary to Longfellow’s poetic myth, a tavern legend from Boston tells us a different story: after overhearing the British plans of the invasion of Lexington and Concord over mugs of ale at the Green Dragon Tavern, bar regular and silversmith Paul Revere ran out to his horse and started his magnificent ride to warn his drinking buddy John Hancock and master maltster Samuel Adams. (In this alternate version, it seems not to matter that his “ride” started in a rowboat.) If the Green Dragon’s tavern-keeper or barmaid had access to a window, “one if by land, and two if by sea” might well have been Paul’s drink order.

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[Fun Fact: in a cruel twist of irony, Samuel Adams was the only Founding Father who is NOT known to homebrew. Adams did, however, provide tasty malts for other people and was involved with his father’s beer business. Despite the popularity of Samuel Adams beer today, it is well documented that his second cousin and future President John Adams strongly preferred hard cider.]

 

Revolutionary Valley

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As the military action of the Revolution moved in-land and up the Hudson, it became necessary for troops, generals, and local officials to find meeting places and headquarters along the way. This became especially important when British troops attacked the city of Kingston two years after the start of the war during the Saratoga Campaign in 1777. A strategically significant city with a new patriot political stronghold, Kingston was serving as the New York state capital. The assembly met in the Bogardus tavern, its court in a separate local courthouse. British General Henry Clinton’s forces sailed up the Hudson River to Kingston Point, where troops disembarked and marched up the Rondout to the Stockade district (today’s Uptown Kingston), setting buildings alight as they moved along with artillery and musket fire. A mass exodus from the city followed, with displaced citizens gathering their families and belongings and fleeing to Hurley. Refugees of the attack also traveled to nearby Marbletown and Stone Ridge.

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Sally Tack’s Tavern & the Wynkoop-Lounsberry House – Stone Ridge, New York

 

In the wake of Kingston’s mass destruction – the British having destroyed all houses but one, adding insult to injury – patriot families and politicians took shelter with those sympathetic to their cause. One of the locations providing safety was Sally Tack’s Tavern, a Dutch Colonial built by Stone Ridge resident Johannes Tack between 1727 and 1772. Originally built as a private residence, the house soon turned into an inn and tavern to help serve increasing traffic on the King’s Highway. British forces had demolished the meeting place for the Ulster County Court, so it chose Tack’s for its new meeting place until a new venue could be constructed. After the burning, as General Washington moved into the area with his bedraggled forces, his staff was quartered here in this simple two-story building. I know what you’re thinking, but George did not sleep here.

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Washington strongly preferred the much larger Wynkoop-Lounsberry House, located just across the street. In 1782 under its Dutch gambrel roof, it is safe to assume that George lifted a few glasses to his host, Major Cornelius Evert Wynkoop. Wynkoop served Washington as a Major of Ulster County’s Minutemen and a commissioner on Washington’s Committee to Detect and Defeat Conspiracies, along with Aaron Burr and Dewitt Clinton. In other words, Major Wynkoop and his wife, Cornelia Mancius Wynkoop, had earned their visit with the good general. After a night of entertainment, the general slept in the southwest bedroom on the second floor before moving to Kingston the next day to give an address at the now-repaired Dutch Reformed Church. Washington’s visit to the Wynkoop guest room was apparently so profound that into the dawn of the 20th century, Major Wynkoop’s residence was re-named “Washington House.” The New Paltz Independent was still agog in February of 1888 when it wrote:

 

    “This old house in Stone Ridge in which General Washington once slept is quite an attraction this winter for parties. On Friday evening January 20th, two sleigh loads from this city went there, and among other pleasantries of the evening they were shown the room in which Washington slept … it was a good place for the General to sleep, as a whole regiment could be quartered there for his protection, if necessary … it is always a wonder the Stone Ridge people do not get up a petition to have the state buy it and thus preserve it as a revolutionary relic.” 

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There is no doubt that the Wynkoop house was larger, fancier, and “a good place for the General to sleep,” but not for the reasons the Independent presents. While Washington wined and dined with his wealthy merchant host, his military staff were across the street, crammed into Tack’s tavern, which was still operating as a private residence, pub, political meeting place, and temporary headquarters. Even if he didn’t sleep there, Washington likely stopped there for a drink to connect with local militia leaders and Patriot community leaders. After Johannes Tack died in 1789, his widow Sally took over as the proprietor until her death. For a time, Tack’s Tavern also served as a school before returning to an inn. (Historical records note its role as a school, but no dates were found.) Sally Tack’s closed as a tavern and fell into private ownership in later years. In 1975 the Tack’s Tavern building was purchased by William Walton, a painter and close friend of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. Walton had served President Kennedy’s administration as the federal Chairman of the Commission on Fine Arts, whose mission had partly been preserving historic structures. Walton’s dear friend Jackie is rumored to have visited him many times at Tack’s before his death in 1994. The building remains in private ownership and is not open to the public. After the Revolution, the Wynkoop-Lounsbury residence remained in family hands until new ownership in 1992. Currently, the home is operating as a wedding venue and Airbnb. “George Washington Chose Wynkoop House in 1782…” is proudly emblazoned across the homepage of its website, with the ultimate message that you, too, can sleep in colonial style for $800 a night.

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The Wynkoop House as it stands today.

 

Baird’s Tavern – Warwick, New York

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When Scots-Irish book dealer Francis Baird built his tavern in 1766, just two years after the founding of the Village of Warwick, it’s unlikely he anticipated that his legacy would intersect with the future first President. Initially, Baird’s tavern served Warwick’s residents as an inn, tavern, and barter-system general store. Located at the intersection of Kings Highway (which has retained its name to this day) and Goshen Road (modern-day Route 17A), Baird’s was quite a happening place. Constructed from local quarry stone, the inn hosted rooms for travelers, a kitchen, a tavern room, and a second-floor ballroom. As we know, the tavern was a critical place for political organizing. As the almost 8,000 troops of the Continental Army merged in New Windsor in the winter of 1782, Washington established new headquarters for himself in Newburgh. Warwick (and Baird’s) was just 26 miles down the King’s Highway, and the tavern sat at the intersection of roads leading to both Washington’s Headquarters and Philadelphia. This was an ideal place for leaders to grab a pint and dance their cares away. During the time of the Continental Army’s encampment, Baird’s hosted several Patriot big shots for dinner, conversation, and dancing. These include General Washington with special guests Major Benjamin Walker and Colonel Johnathan Trumbull Jr. (The older, politically inclined, and less artistic brother of John Trumbull who painted Washington’s aforementioned regal battle portrait.)

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Though Francis Baird was in his 40s and deemed too old to fight, he served his future country with municipal service as a deputy village clerk, caring for war widows and orphan, and maintaining the inn as a political nerve center for Patriots. During war-time Mr. Baird even invited the local militia to drill in secret in the tavern’s attic, where he removed overhead beams to accommodate bayonetted rifle maneuvers. The tavern’s location, ale, quality accommodations, and patriotic sentiment even attracted the general’s wife, Martha Custis Washington, for an overnight visit. Sadly, “Martha Washington slept here” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.

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 Photos courtesy of the Warwick Historical Society. (L) Upstairs guest room. (R) Second-floor ballroom.

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After the war ended in 1783, the tavern continued operation and became a private residence after Francis Baird’s death in 1799. According to the Warwick Historical Society, which has owned the property since the 1990s, the building has also served as “an apartment building, a law office, a war-time Red Cross office, an insurance office, gift shop, and a library.” In 2017, the Warwick Historical Society partnered with restaurateur Adam Powers to reopen Baird’s as a functional tavern. Period furniture and artwork abound, and visitors to the historical society are welcome to tour the building by appointment. There is no note of which room Martha slept in, though the original guest rooms and ballroom on the second floor have all been restored. Membership in the historical society also permits modern patrons to apply for a numbered steel tankard engraved with their name and left hanging over the tavern bar. (One can’t help but wonder if there’s a stein labeled “George Washington, #1.” If there isn’t, Baird’s has missed an opportunity.)

 

America, Land of Libations

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On a recent visit to the new Baird’s, patrons could still be heard discussing and debating politics, sharing local and national news, and connecting with other amenable bar-goers. While it is possible to pick up a six-pack of beer at any convenience store in America in 2022, it isn’t quite the same as sharing a beverage with your buddies in the same room George Washington did. The importance of taverns to early American politics is self-evident. Washington Irving certainly knew it when he placed Rip van Winkle at regular pub gatherings with other village men to open his allegorical story almost forty years later. It is fair to assume that many connections, conversations, and intelligence men like Washington, Henry Knox, Fredrich von Steuben, Marquis de Lafayette, Aaron Burr, and Benedict Arnold gained from time spent in Hudson Valley taverns helped to shape the outcome of the war. (Perhaps even Washington’s decision to refuse an American Monarchy?)

 

As our political attitudes change, so do these spaces; their significance does not. Taverns and bars remain important campaign stops and celebratory spaces for politicians today. Months after his election as President, and two nights before the final signing of the United States Constitution, George Washington decided to visit a Philadelphia tavern and throw a party, as he so often did. He invited 55 guests, including friends, family, brothers-in-arms, and politicians. Washington hired 16 people to work the party as musicians, servers, and hosts. (Enslaved people were not accounted for.) However, his receipt survives. The night cost $20,455.06, including debits for broken glassware. Ain’t no party like a President’s Party: 76 bottles of Bordeaux, eight bottles of old stock whiskey, 22 bottles of porter, eight bottles of hard cider, 12 jugs of beer, five bottles of Madeira wine, and 14 bowls of punch were consumed. Somehow, everyone managed to make it to the signing two days later, and there you have it: America was built on booze.

 

Our local taverns remain critical to representing us: what happens within them influences our greater region and nation. We still celebrate and gather in these historic places not only because they are direct links to our past, but because they represent truly democratic paths to our future.

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