at the age of eight years; while among the former denomination we must
class Lady Molyneux, who is said to have died with a pipe in her
mouth. In the 17th century the custom of drinking health was conducted
with great ceremony; each person rising up in turn, with a full cup,
named some individual to whom he drank; he then drank the whole
contents of the cup and turned it upside down upon the table, giving
it at the same time a fillip to make it ring, or, as our ancient
authority has it, "make it cry 'twango.'" Each person followed in his
turn; and, in order to prove that he had fairly emptied his cup, he
was to pour all that remained in it on his thumb-nail; and if there
was too much left to remain on the nail, he was compelled to drink his
cup full again. If the person was present whose health was drank, he
was expected to remain perfectly still during the operation, and at
the conclusion to make an inclination of his head,--this being the
origin of our custom of taking wine with each other, which, with
sorrow be it said, is fast exploding. A very usual toast for a man to
give was the health of his mistress; and in France, when this toast
was given, the proposer was expected to drink his cup full of wine as
many times as there were letters in her name.
We now pass on to times which seem, in their customs, to approach more
nearly to the present, yet far back enough to be called old times; and
we think it may be pardoned if we indulge in some reminiscences of
them, tacking on to our short-lived memories the greater recollection
of history, and thus reversing the wheels of time, which are hurrying
us forward faster than we care to go. For we hold it to be an excusable
matter, this halting awhile and looking back to times of simpler
manners than those we are living in, of heartier friendships, of more
genial trustings; and that these good qualities were preeminently those
current during the 17th and 18th centuries we have abundant proof. Has
not one of the most noble sentiments in the English language come down
to us in a cup--the cup of kindness, which we are bidden to take for
"Auld Lang Syne"? And truly there come to us from this age passed by,
but leaving behind an ever-living freshness which can be made a
heritage of cheerfulness to the end of time, such testimonies of good
done by associable as well as social intercourse, that, were we cynics
of the most churlish kind, instead of people inclined to be kind and
neighbourly, we could not refuse acknowledgment of the part played in
such deeds by the cup of kindness. Be it remembered, however, such
bright oases in social history do not shine from gluttonous tables, and
are not the property of hard-drinking circles, with their attendant
vices. We seek for them in vain at the so-called social boards of the
last century, where men won their spurs by excessive wine-drinking, and
"three-bottle men" were the only _gentlemen_; neither do we meet them
amid the carousals of Whitehall and Alsatia, or, nearer to our own day,
among the vicious _coteries_ of the Regency. The scenes we like to
recall and dwell upon are those of merry-makings and jollity--or of
friendly meetings, as when gentle Master Izaac, returning from his
fishing, brings with him two-legged fish to taste his brewage (and a
very pleasant and commendable cup the great master of the gentle art
will drink with them), or when pious Master Herbert chances to meet
with a man he liketh, who hath the manner of loving all things for the
good that is in them, and who, like his greater companion, (for no one
in that quality of mind was greater than Herbert,) had a respect for
what, in others, were occasions of stumbling, could use good gifts
without abusing them, and think the loving-cup of spiced wine an
excellent good cordial for the heart, or when Dr. Donne (scarce a man
in England wiser than he), laying aside for the time his abstruse
learning, mixed a mighty cup of gillyflower sack, and talked over it
with Sir Kenelm Digby (hardly a lesser man than himself), of the good
gifts lavishly offered, but by some rudely abused, and by others
unthankfully taken, discussed the merits of plants and fruits, or the
virtues, harder to be discovered, of stones and metals, while they
marvelled at that scheme which adapted each body, animate or inanimate,
to the station ordained to it, and at the infinite goodness of Him who
made man head of all, and gave him power and discernment that he might
show, by the moderate use of things healthy and nourishing, the wisdom
of Him who ordained them to cheer and to cherish. A great regard for
the wholesome had Sir Kenelm Digby, whose carefulness in the concoction
of his favourite cup was such that he could not brew it aright if he
had not Hyde-Park water--a rule of much value in Sir Kenelm's day, no
doubt; but modern "improvements," unfortunately, interfere with the
present use of it. Other apostles of the truest temperance (moderation)
there were, and we cherish them as men who have deserved well of their
country. Dr. Parr, for example, who could drink his cider-cup on the
village green on a Sunday evening, while his farming parishioners
played at bowls,--or again, still more legibly written in social
history, and to some extent leaving an impress upon our national life,
the club-gatherings of the last century, where men of far-seeing and
prudent philosophy (Addison, Steele, Goldsmith, Johnson, and others),
whose names are interwoven with the history of their time, meeting
together, talked of human joys and human sorrows over claret-cups--men
witty themselves, and the cause of wit in other men, like sweet Sir
John, whose devotion to "sherris sack" cost him his character, and will
therefore deny him admission to our gallery of men who have drank
wisely and warily, and therefore well.
While speaking of these times, we must not forget to mention "the cup
that cheers, but not inebriates;" for it was from the introduction of
tea- and coffee-houses that clubs sprang into existence, by a process
unnecessary here to dilate on, but of which an excellent account may
be found in Philip and Grace Wharton's 'Wits and Beaux of Society.'
The first coffee-house established was the 'Grecian,' kept by one
Constantine, a Greek, who advertised that "the pure berry of the
coffee was to be had of him as good as could be anywhere found," and
shortly afterwards succeeded in securing a flourishing trade by
selling an infusion of the said berry in small cups. After him came
Mr. Garraway, who set forth that "tea was to be had of him in leaf and
in drink;" and thus took its rise Garraway's well-known coffee-house,
so celebrated for the sayings and doings of Dr. Johnson, one of which,
being somewhat to the point, we may, in passing, notice. "I admit,"
said he, "that there are sluggish men who are improved by drinking, as
there are fruits which are not good till they are rotten; there are
such men, but they are medlars."
In the eighteenth century the principal cups that we find noted were
those compounded of Beer, the names of which are occasionally
suggestive of too great a familiarity on the part of their
worshippers,--to wit, Humptie-dumptie, Clamber-clown, Stiffle, Blind
Pinneaux, Old Pharaoh, Three threads, Knock-me-down, Hugmatee, and
Foxcomb. All these were current at the beginning of that century. Then,
towards the end of it we find Cock-ale, Stepony, Stitchback, Northdown,
and Mum. _Mum_ is ale brewed from malted wheat. It is so called from
Christison Mumme, a brewer of Braunschweig in Wolfenbüttel, who lived
at the end of the 15th century, and whose house is still standing. When
three Essex men meet to drink a pot together, the draught taken by the
first is called the Neckem, that by the second the Sinkem, the last man
draining the pot by drinking the Swankens, from which we find, in
Bailey's Dictionary, "Swankie," the drop which remains at the bottom of
a cup. "Bragget" is a northland word derived from the hero Braga, who
is one of the mythological gods of the Edda, and consisted of spiced
ale drank on Mothering Sunday, a kind of metheglin derived from Bragawd
(Welsh). It is still drank in Lancashire. All these were very similar
in composition, and their precise recipes are scarcely worth recording.
Many noted houses of entertainment, both in town and country, were
distinguished by their particular brewage of these compounds. But we
can only find a single instance of a house becoming famous in this
century for claret-cups, in many respects the most desirable of any
drink: that one hostelry was the 'Heaven,' in Fleet Street, so often
quoted by the ephemeral writers of the age.
Modern English customs connected with drinking may be said to be
conspicuous from their absence; for, save in the Grace-cups, and
Loving-cups of civic entertainments and other state occasions, we do
not remember any customs worth alluding to. Certain of our cathedral
establishments and colleges retain practices of ancient date relating
to the passing round of the grace-cup; of such is the Durham Prebend's
cup, which is drank at certain feasts given by the resident Prebend to
the corporation and inhabitants of the city, and for which, under an
old charter, he is allowed a liberal sum of money annually. This
composition is still brewed from the original recipe, and served in
the original ancient silver cups, which are at least a foot high, and
hold between two and three quarts. The cups are carried into the room
by a chorister-boy, attired in a black gown, preceded by a verger,
also wearing a black gown trimmed with silver braid, and bearing in
his hand a silver wand. A Latin grace is then chanted, and the Prebend
presents the boy with a shilling, who, having placed the cups on the
table, marches out of the room, accompanied by the verger. The cups
are then passed down each side of the table, and quaffed by each guest
in succession to an appropriate toast.
For the "sensation-drinks" which have lately travelled across the
Atlantic we have no friendly feeling; they are far too closely allied
to the morning dram, with its thousand verbal mystifications, to
please our taste; and the source from which "eye-openers" and
"smashers" come is one too notorious to be welcomed by any man who
deserves well of his country: so we will pass the American bar, with
its bad brandies and fiery wine, and express our gratification at the
poor success which "Pick-me-ups," "Corpse-revivers," "Chain-lightning,"
and the like have had in this country.
HINTS TO CUP-BREWERS.
There are certain things to be observed in the compounding of cups,
which, though patent to every man's common sense, we may be pardoned
for mentioning. When a drink is to be served hot, never let the
mixture boil, but let the heat be applied as gently as possible: a
fierce heat causes the spirit to evaporate, and moreover destroys or
materially alters the fine aromatic flavour on which so much of its
delicacy depends. When the hot cup is brewed, be careful to retain the
heat as much as possible, by a covering to the vessel; and let it not
be served till the moment it is required. On the other hand, when a
cool cup is to be made, its greatest adjunct is ice, either in lumps,
which may be retained in the cup, or, as is preferable, a portion of
pounded ice should be violently shaken with the mixture and afterwards
strained off. The best way of pounding ice is to wrap a block of it in
a napkin and beat it with a mallet or rolling-pin; and the only way of
breaking up a block of ice into conveniently sized pieces with
accuracy is by using a large needle or other sharp-pointed instrument.
The rind of lemon and orange is of great service in flavouring cups;
and it is of the utmost importance that this should be pared as thinly
as possible, for it is only in the extreme outer portion that the
flavour is contained. In making all cups where lemon-peel is employed,
_reject the white part altogether, as worse than useless_; it
imparts an unpleasant flavour to the beverage, and tends to make it
muddy and discoloured.
It was customary in olden times, as well as at the present, to
communicate flavouring to compound drinks by means of different herbs,
among which first in point of flavour is Borage, which is mentioned,
as early as the 13th century, as growing in the garden of John De
Garlande; and in a list of plants of the 15th century, Borage stands
first. It is spoken of in the commencement of the 18th century as one
of the four cordial flowers, being of known virtue to revive the
hypochondriac and cheer the hard student. This Borage is a plant
having a small blue flower, and growing luxuriantly in most gardens;
by placing a sprig or two of it in any cool drink, it communicates a
peculiar refreshing flavour which cannot be imitated by any other
means. When, however, Borage cannot be procured, a thin slice of
cucumber-peel forms a very good substitute; but care must be taken to
use but one slice, or the cup will be too much impregnated with the
flavour to be palatable. A small piece from the outer rind of the
stalk is considered by some to possess superior excellence. We have
made many experiments to extract this peculiar flavouring from Borage,
in all of which we have been totally unsuccessful; nor do we imagine
it possible to separate it from the plant, in order to gain these
peculiar properties. Balm is another herb which is used for flavouring
drinks; but we do not recommend it, although we find it spoken of in
an old medical work as a very good help to digestion, and to open
obstructions to the brain, &c. &c. Mint gives an agreeable flavour to
Juleps, but is not of general application. A sprig of sweet-scented
verbena, put into some cups, imparts an aromatic and agreeable
flavour; but all these herbs must be used with caution, and are only
pleasant when judiciously introduced.
Let your utensils be clean, and your ingredients of first-rate
quality, and, unless you have some one very trustworthy and reliable,
take the matter in hand yourself; for nothing is so annoying to the
host, or so unpalatable to the guests, as a badly compounded cup. In
order that the magnitude of this important business may be fully
understood and properly estimated, we will transfer some of the
excellent aphoristic remarks of the illustrious Billy Dawson (more
properly Bully Dawson, spoken of by Charles Lamb in his 'Popular
Fallacies'), whose illustricity consisted in being the only man who
could brew Punch. This is his testimony:--"The man who sees, does, or
thinks of anything while he is making Punch, may as well look for the
North-west Passage on Mutton Hill. A man can never make good Punch
unless he is satisfied, nay positive, that no man breathing can make
better. I can and do make good Punch, because I do nothing else; and
this is my way of doing it. I retire to a solitary corner, with my
ingredients ready sorted; they are as follows; and I mix them in the
order they are here written. Sugar, twelve tolerable lumps; hot water,
one pint; lemons, two, the juice and peel; old Jamaica rum, two gills;
brandy, one gill; porter or stout, half a gill; arrack, a slight dash.
I allow myself five minutes to make a bowl on the foregoing
proportions, carefully stirring the mixture as I furnish the
ingredients until it actually foams; and then, Kangaroos! how
beautiful it is!!" If, however, for convenience, you place the matter
in the hands of your domestic, I would advise you to caution her on
the importance of the office; and this could not be better effected
than by using the words of the witty Dr. King:--
"O Peggy, Peggy, when thou go'st to brew,
Consider well what you're about to do;
Be very wise--very sedately think
That what you're going to make is--drink;
Consider who must drink that drink, and then
What 'tis to have the praise of honest men;
Then future ages shall of Peggy tell,
The nymph who spiced the brewages so well."
Respecting the size of the cup no fixed rule can be laid down, because
it must mainly depend upon the number who have to partake of it; and
be it remembered that, as cups are not intended to be quaffed _ad
libitum_, as did Bicias, of whom Cornelius Agrippa says,
"To Bicias shee it gave, and sayd,
'Drink of this cup of myne;'
He quickly quafte it, and left not
Of licoure any sygne,"
let _quality_ prevail over _quantity_, and try to hit a happy medium
between the cup of Nestor, which was so large that a young man could
not carry it, and the country half-pint of our own day, which we have
heard of as being so small that a string has to be tied to it to
prevent it slipping down with the cider.
In order to appreciate the delicacy of a well-compounded cup, we would
venture to suggest this laconic rule, "When you drink--think."
OLD RECIPES.
First and foremost among compound drinks, with regard to priority of
date, stands Hydromel, the favourite beverage of the ancient Britons,
which is probably the same as that made and used at the present day
under the name of Metheglin, a word derived from the Welsh Medey-glin,
and spoken of by Howell, who was Clerk to the Privy Council in 1640.
In ancient times, however, this compound was made by simply diluting
honey with water; but at the present day, substances are usually added
to it to cause it to ferment; and when made in this way, it differs
little from mead or bragget.
_Metheglin._
To nine gallons of boiling water put twenty-eight pounds of honey,
add the peel of three lemons, with a small quantity of ginger, mace,
cloves, and rosemary; when this is quite cold, add two tablespoonfuls
of yeast. Put this into a cask, and allow it to ferment; at the
expiration of six months, bottle it off for use.
Another favourite drink in olden times was that called "Lamb's Wool,"
which derived its name from the 1st of November, a day dedicated to
the angel presiding over fruits and seeds, and termed "La Mas-ubal,"
which has subsequently been corrupted into "lamb's wool."
_Lamb's Wool._
To one quart of strong hot ale add the pulp of six roasted apples,
together with a small quantity of grated nutmeg and ginger, with a
sufficient quantity of raw sugar to sweeten it; stir the mixture
assiduously, and let it be served hot.
Of equal antiquity, and of nearly the same composition, is the Wassail
Bowl, which in many parts of England is still partaken of on Christmas
Eve, and is alluded to by Shakspeare in his "Midsummer Night's Dream."
In Jesus College, Oxford, we are told, it is drunk on the Festival of
St. David, out of a silver gilt bowl holding ten gallons, which was
presented to that College by Sir Watkin William Wynne, in 1732.
_The Wassail Bowl._
Put into a quart of warm beer one pound of raw sugar, on which grate a
nutmeg and some ginger; then add four glasses of sherry and two quarts
more of beer, with three slices of lemon; add more sugar, if required,
and serve it with three slices of toasted bread floating in it.
Another genus of beverages, if so it may be termed, of considerable
antiquity, comprise those compositions having milk for their basis,
or, as Dr. Johnson describes them, "milk curdled with wine and other
acids," known under the name of Possets--such as milk-posset,
pepper-posset, cider-posset, or egg-posset. Most of these, now-a-days,
are restricted to the bed-chamber, where they are taken in cases of
catarrh, to act as agreeable sudorifics. They appear to us to be too
much associated with tallow applied to the nose to induce us to give
recipes for their composition, although in olden times they seem to
have been drank on festive occasions, as Shakspeare says
"We will have a posset at the end of a sea-coal fire;"
and Sir John Suckling, who lived in the early part of the 17th
century, has in one of his poems the line--
"In came the bridesmaids with the posset."
The Grace-cup and Loving-cup appear to be synonymous terms for a
beverage the drinking of which has been from time immemorial a great
feature at the corporation dinners in London and other large towns, as
also at the feasts of the various trade companies and the Inns of
Court, and which is a compound of wine and spices, formerly called
"Sack." It is handed round the table before the removal of the cloth,
in large silver cups, from which no one is allowed to drink before the
guest on either side of him has stood up; the person who drinks then
rises and bows to his neighbours. This custom is said to have
originated in the precaution to keep the right or dagger hand
employed, as it was a frequent practice with the Danes to stab their
companions in the back at the time they were drinking. The most
notable instance of this was the treachery employed by Elfrida, who
stabbed King Edward the Martyr at Corfe Castle whilst thus engaged. At
the Temple the custom of the Loving-cup is strictly observed. The
guests are only supposed to take one draught from it as it passes;
but, in No. 110 of the 'Quarterly Review,' a writer says, "Yet it
chanced, not long since at the Temple, that, though the number present
fell short of seventy, thirty-six quarts of the liquor were consumed."
Julep, derived from the Persian word Julap (a sweetened draught), is a
beverage spoken of by John Quincey, the physician, who died in 1723,
and also mentioned by Milton in the lines--
..... "Behold this cordial Julep here,
That foams and dances in his crystal bounds,
With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mix'd."
This drink is now made by pounding ice and white sugar together, and
adding to it a wine-glass of brandy, half a wine-glass of rum, and a
piece of the outer rind of a lemon; these ingredients are shaken
violently, and two or three sprigs of fresh mint are stuck in the
glass; it is then usually imbibed through a straw, or stick of
maccaroni.
One of the oldest of winter beverages, and an especial favourite, both
in ancient and modern times, in our Universities, is "Bishop," also
known on the Continent under the somewhat similar name of Bischof.
This, according to Swift, is composed of
..... "Fine oranges,
Well roasted, with sugar and wine in a cup,
They'll make a sweet Bishop when gentlefolks sup."
This recipe is given _verbatim_, in 'Oxford Night-caps.'
MODERN RECIPES.
PUNCH.
The origin of this word is attributed by Dr. Doran, in his 'History of
Court Fools,' to a club of Athenian wits; but how he could possibly
connect the word Punch with these worthies, or derive it from either
their sayings or doings, we are totally at a loss to understand. Its
more probable derivation is from the Persian Punj, or from the
Sanscrit Pancha, which denotes the usual number of ingredients of
which it is composed, viz. five. In an old book of travels dated 1639,
a certain drink is mentioned called Palepuntz, used by the English at
Surat, composed of brandy, rose-water, citron-juice, and sugar, the
acid principle being absent. We may here mention parenthetically that
'Punch, or The London Charivari,' was started by five men, of whom
three were "Lemons," viz. Mark Lemon, its editor, Leman Rede, and
Laman Blanchard. Thus 'Punch' was made with "Lemon-ade."
_Punch._
Extract the oil from the rind of a large lemon by rubbing it with
lumps of sugar; add the juice of two lemons and of two Seville
oranges, together with the finely pared rind; put this into a jug with
one pint of old rum, one pint of brandy, and half a pound of powdered
lump sugar; stir well together, then add one pint of infusion of green
tea and one quart of boiling water. Mix well, and let it be served
quite hot. This is an excellent recipe for ordinary Punch; and the
addition of green tea cannot be too strongly recommended. In order to
give Punch a delicious softness, one pint of calves'-foot jelly should
be added to the above recipe. The addition of two glasses of sherry
will also be found an improvement.
_Noyau Punch_
is made by adding two glasses of noyau to the above recipe.
A tablespoonful of Guava jelly administers a fine flavour to a bowl of
Punch. Preserved tamarinds, put into Punch, impart a flavour closely
resembling arrack; and a piece or two of preserved ginger, with a
little of the syrup, added to Punch, acts as a stimulant, and prevents
any ill effects which might otherwise arise from the acids it
contains.
_Gin Punch._
As a mild summer drink, and one readily made, we recommend Gin Punch,
according to the following recipe:--