The United States’ relationship with alcoholic beverages has always been a dynamic one. Even as you read this, both state-level and federal-level legislation to change alcohol laws is being introduced. In 1697, what is now the state of Massachusetts declared “strong liquor” illegal. A tolerance movement beginning in Evanston, IL became the impetus for prohibition’s Volstead Act. There are still dry counties in some states. Some states take on the role of liquor store. Some stand between you and your Sunday game day beers. The list goes on!

As diverse and ever-changing as our laws regulating alcohol have been, examining exactly which drinks fall in and out of favor proves even more fascinating. What did Americans first drink? And more specifically, what did the founding fathers seek out to quench their colonial thirst as they worked to establish a nation?

In a word: Madeira. There are two main reasons as to why the men of early America were drinking a fortified wine made on a small island belonging to Portugal. First of all, products of the island of Madeira were curiously exempt from a law that was preventing the exportation of certain goods (such as wine) to British colonies in the New World. Thus a few barrels (or ‘pipes’) of this sticky 18% abv stuff became a staple of any supply ships.

The second reason for the popularity of Madeira lies in its composition. The wine dates back to the Age of Exploration, when the Madeira islands were a standard stop for ships on the way to various colonies. Made from grapes such as Malvasia, Boal, Verdelho and Sercial, the wines start as highly acidic quaffers with various levels of residual sugar. To ensure the “stability” of the wine during these long voyages, they were fortified with neutral cane sugar alcohol.

The Dutch East India Company brought a particularly large shipment of Madeira wine all the way to India, and despite the fortifications, the heat and constant motion on the ship oxidized and transformed the wine. The shipment was returned (and thus oxidized and changed even more). But a quick bit of customer research in Madeira found that the new style of Madeira was preferred. The oxidative qualities made a deep brown wine with raisin, caramel, and smoky flavors. Called vinho da roda (basically, wines that have been around the world), it was rather cost-prohibitive for Madeira producers to send all of their wares on a round-the-world trip prior to sale, so they developed a technique called “estufagem” where the casks of wine are heated by the sun and shaken right at the winery to achieve the same effect.

At the signing of the Constitution, America’s official coming out party was undoubtedly toasted with a few glasses of Madeira

Thus Madeira had three qualities that helped it to keep indefinitely and survive the voyage across the Atlantic: residual sugar, fortification to a high alcohol level, and the fact that it had already been “spoiled” through heat and oxidation. Practicality aside, one might safely assume that the fortifications might have been just the thing that George Washington and company needed, as they likely welcomed something a bit stronger than cider to keep them cozy and warm during the New England winters.

Legend has it that John Hancock’s ship, Liberty, came into port stocked with over one hundred pipes of Madeira, arriving in the middle of the night so as to bypass the pesky formality of registering the cargo and paying tax on it. A port official making a midnight round happened upon the Liberty and demanded knowledge of its contents. Here is where the story gets a little wild: it is said that the official was tied up and locked in a cabin while Hancock’s men unloaded all but a handful of the pipes of Madeira. In the morning, when their hostage was released and the ship was impounded for smuggling, John Hancock somehow got away without a criminal charge (perhaps his persecutors were plied with a bit of liquid persuasion). Madeira was so loved by the founding fathers, and smuggling by colonials was so rampant, this unverified story probably has more than a grain of truth to it.

At the signing of the Constitution, America’s official coming out party was undoubtedly toasted with a few glasses of Madeira, and the founding fathers’ love of the stuff didn’t stop there. As the inaugural president, George Washington graciously waived any form of salary during his term but did submit receipts for the operating cost of his household to be paid by the treasury. Of course this meant payment for servants, for food supplies and for clothing, but Washington also submitted booze receipts for a over $6,000 ( over $262,000 today) covering a period of just six months. The receipts were largely for first-rate Madeira but included cases of choice Bordeaux sent by Thomas Jefferson straight from the chateaux.

Which brings us to the next important beverage in the founding fathers’ liquor cabinets: wine. The United States is now the world’s largest consumer of wine, and we certainly have Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson to thank for that. With alcohol levels much less potent than the rum and whiskey some colonists were drinking, its virtues as a temperate — and even medicinal — drink were extolled greatly by many of the founding fathers. Franklin is well known for some choice quotes and commentary on wine, such as: “Wine makes daily living easier, less hurried, with fewer tensions and more tolerance.”

What started as an interest became a lifelong pursuit when, in 1784, Thomas Jefferson joined Ben Franklin and John Adams as a Commissioner in Paris. Without skipping a beat, one of his first purchases in Paris was twenty-four cases of a top vintage Chateau Haut-Brion. And beyond this initial purchase, Paris was a veritable playground for Jefferson as he deepened his interest and knowledge in wine. Interestingly enough, John Adams shared none of this oenological zeal and noted in his diary after an 1807 dinner with Jefferson: “There was, as usual, a dissertation on wines. Not very edifying.” Adams preferred to import his own cider from the states.

After a bit of lobbying, in 1787 Thomas Jefferson was named the American Minister to the King of France.  This position was of a trade nature, and naturally required a tour of the country to assess what goods might be desired in the US. Whether or not the tour needed to center on the country’s major wine regions is another story altogether! Jefferson’s tour took him to Bordeaux, Burgundy, Champagne, the Rhone Valley, and elsewhere (including the Piedmont, which isn’t even in France).

This trip did much to stock Jefferson’s private Paris cellar, the storied center in the must-read The Billionaire’s Vinegar. Perhaps most notable is that Jefferson took copious notes of every wine he tasted and even put the various major chateaux into his own ranking. This ranking is a nod to Jefferson’s impressive palate and command of wine quality, as it is extraordinarily close to the official ranking of Bordeaux wines laid out in the Classification of 1855. His very favorite wines were those of Volnay and Montrachet in Burgundy, but later in life he became much more interested in the more value-oriented wines of Languedoc-Roussillon, Italy, and Spain.

Without a doubt, Thomas Jefferson was the founding wine geek and unofficial sommelier of America. He was responsible for stocking the wine cellars for the first five Presidential households and made sure that the Presidents and visiting dignitaries suffered no shortage of top Bordeaux and Burgundy wines. Throughout his political career, Jefferson lobbied extensively for lower wine tariffs.

At Monticello, Jefferson worked tirelessly to establish a working vineyard with French grape varieties on the property, but never saw a vintage. In fact, a handful of the Founding Fathers also tried their hand at growing vineyards from clippings of vines brought from France. However, as they would eventually learn, the US is home to phylloxera, a louse that eats the roots of grapevines and renders them useless. This was frustrating to Jefferson, as the native American grape varieties seemed immune to the pest but produced some rather offensive wine. It would take a phylloxera disaster of massive proportions in Europe to realize that American grape rootstock was resistant, and vineyards could be safely rebuilt by grafting European vitis vinifera vines onto the rootstock of American grape species.

Nonetheless, Jefferson wrote that “we could, in the United States, make as great a variety of wines as are made in Europe, not exactly of the same kinds, but doubtless as good.” Two centuries later, Virginia is the fifth largest producer of wine in the US and the Monticello American Viticultural Area was established in Jefferson’s honor.

While it would be great to go out and buy a bottle of 1787 Madeira or early nineteenth century Bordeaux to truly taste what the founding fathers drank, it’s going to cost you probably the sum of a small condo in San Francisco — and that’s if you can find it. Even so, I encourage you to go out and buy a bottle of Madeira, read a bit of Thomas Jefferson On Wine by John Hailman, and raise a toast to the men that made it possible for you to enjoy drinking your libation of choice.