In early American history the use of liquor by an infant seems to have been nearly coincident with its entrance into life. A family receipt called Caudle has been handed down through the family of Mrs. Johannes de Peyster, and calls for "three gallons of water, seven pounds of sugar, oatmeal by the pound, spice, raisins and lemons by the quart and two gallons of the very best Madeira wine." This was especially served at the baptism of a child, and partaken of extensively by the women. In early times the Puritan women drank cider and Madeira mixed with water, and much scandal was given by the readiness with which the merry wives of Philadelphia joined in their husbands' comfortable potations. The eighteenth century was the drinking era, and our colony followed in no halting measure the jovial fashions of the day. In 1733 the Pennsylvania Gazette laments that Philadelphia women, "otherwise discreet," instead of contenting themselves with one good draught of beer in the morning take "two or three drams by which their appetite for wholesome food is destroyed." Women kept ordinaries and taverns from early days. Widows abounded, for the life of the male colonist was hard, exposure was great, and many died in middle age. War also had many victims. Tavern-keeping was the resort of widows of small means then. Many licenses were granted to them to keep victualling houses, to draw wine, and make and sell beer. In 1684 the wife of one Nicholas Howard was licensed "to entertain lodgers in the absence of her husband"; while other women were permitted to sell food and drink but could not entertain lodgers because their husbands were absent from home, thus drawing nice distinctions. A Salem dame in 1645 could keep an ordinary if she provided "a godly man" to manage her business.

Wedding festivities seemed to have caused about the same amount of liquor drinking throughout the country. In the new land weddings and births were joyful events. The colonists broke with the home traditions and insisted on being married at home rather than at church. As civilization advanced and habits grew more luxurious the marriage festivities grew more elaborate and became affairs of serious expense. Scharf, in his Chronicles of Baltimore, says the house would be filled with company to dine; the same company would stay to supper. For two days punch was dealt out in profusion. The gentlemen saw the groom on the first floor, and then ascended to the second floor where they saw the bride; there every gentleman, even to one hundred a day, kissed her. Weddings in old Philadelphia were very expensive and harassing to the wedded. The bride's home was filled with company to dine, the same guests usually stayed to tea, while for two days punch was served in great profusion. Kissing the bride and drinking punch seem to have been the leading features of these entertainments.

A custom prevailed in southern Pennsylvania of barring the progress of the coach of the newly married pair by ropes and other obstacles, which were not removed until the groom paid toll in the form of a bottle of wine, or of drinks to his persecutors.

The famous Schuyler wedding cake had, among other ingredients, twelve dozen eggs, forty-eight pounds of raisins, twenty-four pounds of currants, four quarts of brandy, a quart of rum. This was mixed in a wash tub.

From the earliest period funerals seem to have caused more expense and drunkenness than weddings. In Sewell's Diary of the date of August 2, 1725, he says of the funeral of Mrs. Catherine Winthrop: "Had good birth-cake, good wine, Burgundy and Canary, good Beer, oranges and pears." The Puritan funerals were accompanied with so much drinking that a law had to be passed to check the extravagance. In Massachusetts one funeral cost six hundred pounds. Parker, in his history of Londonderry, says:

"Their funeral observances were of a character in some respects peculiar. When death entered their community and one of their members was removed, there was at once a cessation of all labor in the neighborhood. The people gathered together at the house of mourning, observed a custom which they had brought with them from Ireland, called a 'wake' or watching with the dead, from night to night until the interment. These night scenes often exhibited a mixture of seriousness and of humor which appear incompatible. The Scriptures would be read, prayer offered, and words of counsel and consolation administered; but ere long, according to established usage, the glass with its exhilarating beverage, must circulate freely. Although funeral sermons were seldom if ever delivered on the occasion, yet there would be usually as large a congregation as assembled on the Sabbath. Previous to the prayer, spirit was handed round, not only to the mourners and bearers, but to the whole assembly. Again after prayer, and before the coffin was removed, the same was done. Nearly all would follow the body to the grave, and at their return the comforting draught was again administered, and ample entertainment provided. Many a family became embarrassed in consequence of the heavy expenses incurred, not so much by the sickness which preceded the death of one of its members, as by the funeral services as then observed, and which, as they supposed, respect for the dead required."

In New York state before a burial took place a number of persons, usually friends of the dead, watched the body throughout the night, liberally supplied with various bodily comforts, such as abundant strong drink, plentiful tobacco and pipes, and newly-made cakes. These watchers were not wholly gloomy nor did the midnight hours lag unsolaced. A Dutch funeral was costly, the expenditure for gloves, scarfs, and rings was augmented in New York by the gift of a bottle of wine and a linen scarf. At the funeral of Louis Wingard, in Albany, the attendance was large, and many friends returned to the house and made a night of it. These sober Albany citizens drank a pipe of wine, and smoked much tobacco. They broke hundreds of pipes and all the decanters in the house, and wound up by burning all their funeral scarfs in a heap in the fireplace. At Albany the expense reached the climax. The obsequies of the first wife of Stephen Van Renssalaer cost $20,000; two thousand linen scarfs were given and all the tenants were entertained several days.

On Long Island a young man of good family began his youth by laying aside money in gold coin for his funeral, and a superior stock of wine was also stored for the same occasion. In Albany a cask of choice Madeira was bought for the wedding and used in part; the remainder was saved for the funeral of the bridegroom. Up the Hudson were the vast manors of the Beekmans, Livingstons, Van Renssalaers, Schuylers, and Johnsons, where these patroons lived among and ruled over their tenantry like the feudal lords of old England. When a member of the Van Renssalaer family died, the tenants, sometimes amounting to several thousand, says Bishop Kip, came down to Albany to pay their respects to his memory, and to drink to the peace of his soul in good ale from his generous cellars. At the burial of Philip Livingston, in New York, services were performed at both his house and at the manor house. The funeral is thus described in a journal of the day: "In the City the lower rooms of most of the houses in Broadstreet, where he resided, were thrown open to receive visitors. A pipe of wine was spiced for the occasion, and to each of the eight bearers, with a pair of gloves, mourning ring, scarf and handkerchief, a monkey spoon was given. At the manor these ceremonies were all repeated, another pipe of wine was spiced, and besides the same presents to the bearers, a pair of black gloves and a handkerchief were given to each of the tenants. The whole expense was said to be five hundred pounds." At funerals in old New York it was customary to serve hot wine in winter and sangaree in summer. Burnt wine was sometimes served in silver tankards. Death among the Dutch involved much besides mourning. "Bring me a Barrel of Cutt Tobacco, some long pipes, I am out also six silver Tankards. Bottles, Glasses, Decanters we have enough. You must bring Cinnamon and Burnt wine, for we have none," writes Will Livingston, in 1756, on the death of his mother.

Here is the funeral bill of Peter Jacobs Marinus, one of the most prominent of old time New York merchants, who died in the latter part of the seventeenth century:

It should be noted that one of the perquisites of the doctor's office was the sale of spices, and on the occasion of funerals they did a thriving business.

In 1764 a reform movement swept through the northern colonies and stopped this extravagance at funerals, so that when Judge Clark died in New Jersey, in 1765, there was no drinking at his funeral. Previous to this time it was not unusual for testators to direct that no liquor should be distributed at their funeral, just as today the request is made in regard to funerals that no flowers be sent.

That the funeral of President Lincoln cost the city of Chicago over eight hundred dollars for the "mourners" was revealed lately in an old whisky and wine bill discovered by City Clerk John R. McCabe. The bill is headed:

Report of Comptroller of amount paid for wine and whisky furnished members of the legislature and the "mourners" at the obsequies of the late president, accepted and filed August 7, 1865.