BOURBON 4a: Did America's First Army Help Spread American Whiskey?

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Show Notes

In the years following the American Revolution, the United States found itself fighting another war, this time against a powerful confederacy of Native nations determined to defend their lands north of the Ohio River. But how could a nearly bankrupt government feed, equip, and supply an army on the distant frontier?

The answer leads us to an unlikely chapter in whiskey history. From military rations (that included whiskey) and struggling government contractors to the farms, mills, and distilleries along Pennsylvania's Monongahela River, we'll discover how war helped create new opportunities for frontier whiskey makers. And we'll follow a remarkable web of family connections that leads back to a familiar name from Bourbon County's earliest history.

This is Chapter 4a of The Lost History of Bourbon, presented as a reading from an early manuscript draft. Unlike regular Whiskey Lore Stories episodes, these chapters are presented without music or sound effects. The manuscript is a work in progress, and some details may change.

Transcript

The surprise was total. After days of marching through the wilderness, America's First Regimental Army and the accompanying militias had finally settled into camp along the Wabash River in the Northwest Territory. A force of over a thousand troops was hoping to get some much-needed rest before another day's march. 

But as dawn broke, the silence was shattered by the whooping cries of Indian warriors and the sound of gunfire. Groggy soldiers stumbled out of tents, while others dropped their biscuits and coffee and ran for their guns. The fevered cries of the warriors mixed and mingled with the panicked screams of the women and children accompanying the American forces. Then, through the fog appeared hundreds of warriors, ready to take scalps and rid their lands of these invaders from the east.

The Battle of the Wabash was on.

THE FORGOTTEN WAR

To those who witnessed the bloody carnage that day, it must have seemed like a battle destined for the history books, alongside Brandywine and Kings Mountain. Yet the Battle of the Wabash and the ten-year conflict between the United States and the Northwestern Indian Confederacy have largely been forgotten. Maybe because things didn't go so well for the new nation's first military campaigns.

In hindsight, the poor performance of these first campaigns was understandable. Just a couple of years earlier, the country had been operating as a collection of independent states under the Articles of Confederation. The national treasury, burdened by debts from the Revolutionary War, was near bankruptcy. Individual states faced financial troubles of their own and struggled to contribute to the national coffers. Meanwhile, the old rules left Congress with no power to tax.

Without the funds to raise a dependable army or establish reliable supply lines, the young government had been left relying on state militias for military muscle and private contractors willing to extend credit to the struggling nation. Even with a new U.S. Constitution, it would take years to overcome those limitations. 

Looking for a way to raise money without levying taxes, Congress took another tact. Building upon Thomas Jefferson's Land Ordinance of 1784, which laid the groundwork for creating new states from western territories, a second ordinance divided these lands into six-mile-square townships and made them available at auction to private citizens and land speculators. Revenue from the sales would help settle the nation's war debts. 

If the lands were unoccupied, this might have been a brilliant scheme. But what it didn't take into account were the thousands of native peoples already occupying these lands, many of whom had been driven north of the Ohio River thanks to the numerous campaigns of George Rogers Clark.

To stem the tide of violence, Congress turned to a familiar Revolutionary War hero for help. In March 1785, Henry Knox, the man who had hauled the cannons from Fort Ticonderoga to Boston, was appointed Secretary at War. Unlike the position he would later hold under President Washington, in this post, Knox answered directly to Congress.

Assessing the situation, Knox cut right to the point. Given the nation's financial troubles, warfare "cannot be consistent with the interest and policy of the Union."

The government attempted to avoid military entanglements by negotiating treaties with individual tribes. But lingering anger over Native alliances with the British during the War of Independence led American negotiators to demand terms heavily favoring settlers.

The Northwestern Indian Confederacy, which had formed at Fort Detroit in 1785, wrote Congress expressing its frustration with the treaties and declaring them null and void. Confederacy leaders insisted that the Ohio River remain the dividing line between their lands and American settlement.

Congress, meanwhile, moved forward with its plans for the region. It established the Northwest Territory north of the Ohio River and strengthened its military presence at Fort Harmar, upriver from Kentucke country.

For flatboat travelers heading down the Ohio River toward Kentucke, renewed hostilities meant a return to keeping a safe distance from either shore.

Yet not everyone was immediately aware of the danger. Newcomer Colonel Thomas Marshall and his large traveling party encountered a man on the northern bank who called himself James Girty. Claiming to be the brother of Simon Girty, the notorious American turncoat involved in the attack on Ruddell's Mills and other stations, he warned Marshall to spread the word. Travelers should beware of distress calls coming from the north shore.

Marshall had been fortunate to receive the warning. John May, the man who would lend his name to Maysville, wasn't so lucky. When a white man on shore waved his arms in distress, May suspected a trap and warned his fellow travelers. They approached anyway, and it cost them their lives.

Meanwhile, attacks were spreading into northern Kentucke. John Edwards, former commissary general under George Rogers Clark and now Bourbon County Clerk of Court, led 30 men in pursuit of a Shawnee raiding party that had attacked the Shanks family near Hopewell.

Farther north, along the Ohio River, Captain Simon Kenton was organizing a militia known as the minute men, training spies and scouts to watch for danger.

The growing violence spread fear throughout the region. Travel along the old buffalo trace became so dangerous that Maysville residents petitioned the Virginia Legislature for a county of their own. The miles of wilderness separating them from the Bourbon County Courthouse were simply too risky to travel. James Garrard protested the move, but on December 27, 1788, the Kentucky Gazette announced that the eastern portion of Bourbon County would be split off to form a new county called Mason.

FINDING RATIONS

In 1789, with turmoil spreading north and south of the Ohio River, Secretary at War Henry Knox finally had reason to hope for the funds needed to strengthen the military presence in the Northwest Territory. President-elect George Washington was preparing to take office as Commander-in-Chief and a new Congress was granted the power to raise revenue, and began working on a bill to levy import duties, 

For the citizens of the Inner Bluegrass, an escalation of the Northwest Indian War meant the arrival of one of the greatest consumers a frontier distiller could ask for: the American soldier.

In a tradition dating back to the formation of the Continental Army in July 1775, soldiers were offered a daily ration of one gill (about four fluid ounces) of rum, whiskey, or brandy to keep them content. Knox standardized the language for his new army, requiring soldiers to receive “one gill of whiskey, or half a gill of taffia, per day.”

The whiskey or taffia (a low-grade molasses or sugarcane spirit from the Caribbean or Louisiana) was issued in the morning, or in two portions at different times of the day if the men were on the march. Whiskey came in two categories: rye whiskey and country spirits. Country spirits included both corn whiskey and fruit brandy.

Yet the new nation didn't have the means to negotiate with hundreds of distillers scattered from the East Coast to the frontier. Nor did it have the funds to pay them directly. And Kentucke country, still in the early stages of agricultural development, faced the added problem of dangerous shipping routes, making direct contracts with farmers like Jacob Spears or millers like William Miller difficult to manage.

What the Army needed was an established civilian contractor capable of supplying whiskey, beef, flour, salt, vinegar, peas, and beans, along with wagons, pack horses, artillery horses, and other military necessities. The contractor also needed access to frontier forts along the Ohio River and enough financial strength to extend credit to a nation with empty coffers.

Early on, the most financially stable suppliers could be found in Charleston, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York. But in an era before steam engines made two-way river travel practical and canals opened more efficient routes west, reaching the frontier from the East Coast meant a long, difficult journey over land.

The Army needed a supply center closer to the great waterway leading west: the Ohio River.

And with its position at the headwaters of that river, Pittsburgh was primed to become a commercial center for military provisioning and westward expansion.

THE FORKS OF THE OHIO

Where the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers meet to form the Ohio, the strategic site of old Fort Pitt offered military contractors an ideal base of operations. The Forbes Road connected Pittsburgh to Philadelphia through a network of established communities, while the Ohio River provided a direct route to the western forts.

One of the first military suppliers to the U.S. Confederation Congress for its western campaigns was James O'Hara. As Assistant Quartermaster during General Nathanael Greene's southern campaign, he'd demonstrated a talent for collecting supplies, arranging transportation for troops, and managing warehouses in Carlisle and Philadelphia. His ties to Philadelphia merchants Devereaux Smith and Ephraim Douglas helped him secure the contract in 1785.

But the government wasn't entirely satisfied with O'Hara's performance. Its attention soon turned to another merchant enterprise establishing itself at the forks.

William Turnbull & Co. also had its origins in Philadelphia commerce. Its military connection came through a contract with William Duer to supply rum and flour to troops at Fort Miller on the Hudson River. 

Turnbull had ambitious plans for the western frontier. He attempted to purchase Fort Pitt and joined forces with eastern merchant Pierre Marmie and Pittsburgh-area merchants Isaac Craig and Stephen Bayard. Together, they developed an extensive operation that included a sawmill, salt works, boatbuilding facilities, and a distillery. Craig and Bayard eventually became suppliers of stills and mill castings for western settlers, while the Pittsburgh store supplied food and transportation.

In January 1786, Turnbull, Marmie & Co. won a contract with the Board of Treasury to supply three western forts: Fort Pitt, Fort McIntosh near the mouth of the Beaver River, and Fort Harmar at the confluence of the Muskingum and Ohio rivers.

But for all their experience managing eastern markets, Treasury officials believed the company had mishandled western logistics. The company blamed financial issues brought on by a depreciating Pennsylvania currency. Ultimately, the military contract returned to its original supplier, James O'Hara.

After years of financial struggles and logistical failures, the government took a chance on another firm in the summer of 1788. Based in Hagerstown, Maryland, Elliot & Williams established a foothold at the forks and brought a remarkably balanced team to the newly signed contract.

Robert Elliot provided logistical expertise and a wide network of suppliers. His partner, Elie (Elisha) Williams, was the financial brain of the operation, bringing in money and financing from the East. Together, these strengths gave the firm the ability to extend enough credit to the new nation to support its military needs.

It didn't hurt that Elie's brother Otho was Commissioner of the Port of Baltimore and had access to Alexander Hamilton, the man who would soon become Secretary of the Treasury.

Although headquartered in Maryland, Elliot & Williams joined the westward movement of merchants following the Revolutionary War. The firm established a store at Front and Ferry Roads in Pittsburgh, then eventually purchased an island about a mile down the Ohio River from Fort Pitt.

As with previous contractors, Elliot & Williams was responsible for sourcing the flour, cattle, horses, and whiskey the military needed, while extending the government a generous line of credit. By 1788, the firm could also draw upon a developing agricultural economy stretching from the forks down the Monongahela River to the old flatboat supply hub at Redstone Old Fort.

Halfway between these two points was one of the region's prominent suppliers, Frenchman David Furnier. Originally from Hagerstown, he had brought his family's business west to the Monongahela.

Nineteenth-century Pennsylvania historian John S. Van Voorhis described Furnier's operation as a farm, mill, distillery, and store. Known as the Barter Mills, it was among the largest operations in the area.

Van Voorhis had access to Furnier's daybook covering 1790 to 1799. One entry recorded a shipment of 142 barrels of fine flour and 84 barrels of superfine flour loaded aboard the Enterprise at John Bartlett's direction, along with a little whiskey for the boatmen.

The entry was recorded by another former Hagerstown resident, Jacob Bowman, who would eventually become a successful area merchant in his own right. The shipment was bound for a store in Pittsburgh, although the records didn't identify which one. Given the Maryland connections among Elliot, Williams, Furnier, and Bowman, it's tempting to wonder whether Elliot & Williams was the intended recipient.

But Furnier wasn't alone in supplying grain to the region. The Barter Mill gave local farmers a place to sell their wheat for milling into flour and their rye for distilling into whiskey. And one of the families appearing in Furnier's daybook holds particular interest for fans of Bourbon County whiskey.

It turns out Jacob Spears was more than just a Bourbon County distiller. His family roots reached back to the banks of the Monongahela River and beyond into Virginia, with several of Kentucky's other distilling legacies appearing among the branches of the Spears family tree.

FAMILY TIES

The origins of the Speers family in America are shrouded in mystery. According to an unverified family tradition, Jacob's grandfather Christian traveled from Ireland to England, hoping to catch a boat to America. Instead, the story claims he was pressed into the English Army and sent to France. From there, he escaped and settled in Heidelberg, Germany.

Somehow, his sons George, Henry, and Michael Christopher made their way to America in the early 1730s. But the story raises questions. The three boys would have been too young to make the journey alone, yet there is no known record of Christian accompanying them. And Michael Christopher eventually disappears from the historical record.

George and Henry represent two branches of the Speers family that would eventually make their way into Kentucky. Both initially settled in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley, about 30 miles apart.

George fought at Brandywine with General Washington, and family tradition holds that his son John served as a drummer boy at Yorktown. Another son, Jacob, not to be confused with the Bourbon County distiller, headed west and fought alongside Joseph Bowman, whose sister Elizabeth had married Isaac Ruddell. He also fought with George Rogers Clark during the Illinois Campaign. At Jacob's urging, George moved his family west to Carpenter's Station near modern-day Danville, Kentucky.

Henry settled in Virginia, marrying Regina Froman in 1744. When war came to the frontier, he took up arms for the British during the French and Indian War, gaining exposure to the lands around the Forks of the Ohio.

He would eventually move his family to land on the eastern side of the Monongahela River. But before that move, his children had established close family ties with another immigrant family, the Fryes.

Christina and Rachel, daughters of Henry and Regina, married Samuel and William Frye respectively, the sons of Benjamin Frye. Two more Speers daughters, Nancy and Catherine, married James and Benjamin Frye, sons of Abraham Frye and grandsons of Benjamin. The Speers sons Noah and Henry Jr. married two of Benjamin's granddaughters: Nancy, daughter of Abraham, and Rebekah, daughter of Henry Frye Sr. And the Speers granddaughter Catherine married Benjamin's grandson John, who moved out to live with George Spears' family at Carpenter's Station.

To say the Speers and Fryes became close-knit is an understatement.

When Henry moved his family to the eastern bank of the Monongahela River in 1771, the Fryes settled on the western bank. This put the families in an ideal position for the coming flatboat era, with their property situated between Redstone Old Fort, where many of the boats would be built, and the Forks of the Ohio at Fort Pitt.

But Henry would never see the region develop. He died after being kicked in the head by a horse. His will, administered by his wife Regina and friend Benjamin Frye, gave Regina use of the land for the remainder of her life. The estate would eventually be divided among the children, with the male heirs Solomon, Jacob, Henry Jr., and Noah receiving larger portions of the property.

Of those four sons, Jacob has a particularly curious story attached to his early years. Born in 1754 as the sixth child of Henry and Regina, he appears to have purchased property at the age of 15 along the Youghiogheny River, in territory disputed by Pennsylvania and Virginia. Adding to the confusion, the land survey is held at the Cumberland County Courthouse in Maryland. One possible explanation is Maryland's more liberal policy of issuing deeds to men as young as 14.

Mason and Dixon noted in their journal that they stayed at Spears' tavern. Family lore also places George Washington there, claiming he remarked that it was the first time he'd seen children and dogs eating from the same bowl.

Jacob held the property until 1816, when it was sold shortly afterward to the commission building the National Road. It stood near the site of a stone bridge crossing the Yough, but the area was submerged when a reservoir was built in the 1940s.

But did Jacob actually live there, or did he simply own the property? His age and tax records from the 1780s cast doubt on the story.

What the tax records do confirm is Jacob's ownership of a still in 1787, while living near his mother and brothers in Rostraver Township, just a couple of miles east of the Monongahela. His brother Henry Jr. also owned a still on the western side of the river.

And throughout the area, a Speers and Frye family infrastructure begins to emerge. Jacob's cousin James Frye owned a gristmill down by the river, while Regina's farm in Rostraver supplied grain and livestock.

Whether Jacob Spears ever supplied whiskey to the Army remains unknown. But with farms, mills, and stills operating along the Monongahela, and merchants moving provisions toward the western forts, the Speers and Fryes were well positioned to participate in a growing frontier economy.

So, if the Monongahela River provided an ideal location and a strong family infrastructure, what would compel Jacob to leave all of that behind and isolate himself in the backcountry of Kentucke?