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Four Years at the Mount

Junior Year

Emmitsburg’s oft-forgotten story

Harry Scherer
Class of 2022

(4/2021) "All aboard!" shouts the streetcar conductor. His scream could hardly be heard above the noise of the bustling Main Street. Mothers and children rush in and out of shops in preparation for their Sunday meal. Men sit quietly smoking their pipes on small metal chairs outside of the local diner. This is the look and sound of Emmitsburg in 1885.

The Civil War still resides in the memory of many; for those who still remember it, everyone is happy that 20 years divides their current existence from the horrible time gone by. Now, they are content with the trappings of living in a major metropolitan city like Emmitsburg. There was significant material development in the town after the conclusion of the war. Men from Pennsylvania made the journey across the Mason-Dixon Line into Emmitsburg for easier procurement of hard liquor; the Quaker-inspired attitude toward spirits present during the commonwealth’s founding were as alive during the late 19th century as they are today. The mothers of Maryland found the produce in southern Pennsylvania to be less expensive and better quality, so their weekly trips often included a stop in Emmitsburg.

Some modern historians consider this boom in population and commerce to be a result of the interstate goodwill that was palpable after the war; other historians eagerly contest this theory. Some consider Emmitsburg’s growth came about because of the mountain tourism that was increasing at the time; few dispute this but many wonder whether the growth is only attributable to the increase in tourist fascination. The new theory that has begun cropping up in the circles that study Emmitsburg history is related to the story of America’s first bourbon distillery.

Few know this, but the town of Emmitsburg has quietly boasted its place as the motherland of American bourbon. Emmitsburgers have long been aware of Kentucky’s fallacious claim; start a conversation on this topic with a native of Emmitsburg and expect a long evening with a survey of creative profanities. The Emmitsburg boom after the war was to be expected by all those who were bourbon drinkers of the time; people had more money than they did before the war with which they could take advantage of Emmitsburg’s long-held supply of sweet corn nectar. But the story of bourbon’s roots goes back a century before this growth in alcoholic popularity.

Many remember the mayor of Emmitsburg from the late 18th century named John L. Boone. Mayor Boone was good friends with Maze Blanche, informal town leader of the then underdeveloped land of On-the-Bourb, Iowa; the eccentric name of the town came from a simple people who lived near a humble stream they called the Bourb. Shortly after his successful election, Blanche sent Mayor Boone a few oak buckets filled with ears of delicious Iowa corn; a skilled politician, sending a gift like this was a common occurrence for Blanche in order to extend diplomatic well-wishes and to indicate an air of cooperation.

The people of Emmitsburg were not particularly interested in eating the corn as it was; it was not an essential part of the quirky diet of northern Maryland. Mayor Boone started a task force. The first of its kind since his election, he was motivated and enthusiastic to see this task force produce forceful results. They needed to find a way to consume the corn and not insult the rising star of Iowa politics. Boone knew deep down that Iowa held deep political sway over national affairs, so he found the work of this task force to bear long-lasting ramifications over the state of the nation.

The men who made up the task force spoke with their wives and the answer was clear: distill the corn! They had seen rye whiskey made before, so they knew well how it was done. They were rarely impressed by the taste and texture of the rye and were convinced that they could produce a better product than the swill produced at the local stills. The task force was certain that they could create a mash made up of mostly corn, throw in some grain that they couldn’t use from the harvest and create a liquor that would become the envy of the Mason-Dixon line.

The task force offered clear recommendations to the mayor and, by extension, the members of the watchful town of Emmitsburg. They suggested that the town open a distillery at which they would create the mash, ferment it and after a few other steps age the liquid in charred oak barrels. The energetic men of the town were already in the habit of going up to the mountain and cutting down the tall oak trees for general use by the townies for firewood and other essential uses. The task force found it both economically and socially expedient to create some extra jobs for the time-rich members of the town to mold oak barrels for use in this process.

Mayor Boone and the town’s budding whiskey sommeliers were pleasantly surprised by the finished product. The liquid was sweet and sophisticated, rich in color and pleasant to the nose. It was good to drink with ice (not frozen from the Emmitsburg water supply, of course) or neat. The task force was proud of the spirit and the town that made it.

One night, with the people of Emmitsburg crowded on Main Street, Mayor Boone said with his typical eloquence, "You all have done this town a great service. With our time, we have realized our talents. With our talents, we have found our treasures. Now, it is time to share these treasures with the world! What will we call this treasure that has just met our lips?" A thoughtful people, filled with gratitude, shouted out in a loud and unified voice, "Bourbon, we will call it! Bourbon! To thank Maze and his people On-the-Bourb, we will name this spirit in their honor."

In these words, we find the rarely told story of Emmitsburg and bourbon to be passed along from generation to generation.

Read other articles by Harry Scherer