Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson’s third cousin, twice removed – at her request) established National Margarita Day in 1871 (Info HERE and HERE).
The holiday proved to be so popular, that the following year, Margaritas were in such high demand, that drinkers depleted the nation’s supply of tequila by the end of February setting off what has now been dubbed the “Great Tequila Shortage of 1872” and the “Great Tequila Famine.”
The lack of tequila continued into May. On Cinco de Mayo, bars had no tequila with which to serve Margaritas so riots broke out in cities across the country – and that occurrence has by many historians been known as “Bar Wars.”
Below: Rioting in Little Pwagmattasquarmsettport, Massachusetts, as a result of the Great Tequila Famine.
Emmett Lee Dickinson wrote about the Great Tequila Famine and the Bar Wars of 1872 in his poem "Have you got Margaritas at your little bar" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Have you got a Brook in your little heart" (below on the right).
By Emmett Lee Dickinson: Have you got Margaritas at your little bar, Where strong tequila flows, And rushing crowds come down to drink – And shakers rattle so – And everyone knows, so much they flow, That any Margarita’s there, And yes your little draught of life Is daily drunken there – Why – look out for the thirsty crowd in February, On National Margarita Day, And the throngs come hurrying from the hills, And the barstools fill and stay – And later in May on the Cinco day, When the drinkers parching buy, Beware, lest this little drink of life Some Happy Hour runs dry! | By Emily Dickinson: Have you got a Brook in your little heart, Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drink – And shadows tremble so – And nobody knows, so still it flows, That any brook is there, And yet your little draught of life Is daily drunken there – Why – look out for the little brook in March, When the rivers overflow, And the snows come hurrying from the hills, And the bridges often go – And later, in August it may be, When the meadows parching lie, Beware, lest this little brook of life Some burning noon go dry! |