LAUSR

In early 1862, Virginia state senator James M. Whittle found himself in hot water. The legislature had recently voted to prohibit distilling because it wasted grain, andWhittle had voted in support of themeasure.He received angry letters from his constituents—the farmers of Pittsylvania County—for his trouble. Writing to a friend and political supporter in Pittsylvania County,Whittle explained that though he had been encouraged “to support the stills”—specifically those of Virginians who distilled grains for their own private use—he believed that the prohibition on distilling could be borne stoically and patriotically. The problem with distilling during a time of war was twofold: the state was running out of grain, and “the army has been demoralized by liquor.” If distilling continued, Whittle pointed out, there was no way for the Confederacy to sustain its war effort. “Certainly some will lose money” by being unable to distill, he acknowledged, “butwe all losemoney by thewar&no one ought to complain on that account.” Instead, Whittle insisted, all patriotic Virginians must embrace the financial hardships caused by the war. Even Whittle was willing to adjust his habits. Knowing that whiskey “has killedmore than the Yankee,” he vowed “to take not a drop . . . to save the cause of the country.” He insisted that he was “no temperance man & had no such view in my vote.” His teetotalism, as he understood it, was a patriotic gesture. Whittle’s exchange with his constituent proved emblematic of the prohibition-related conversations occurring throughout the Confederacy, but especially in Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia. At first