Roggewein,[109] are the “basest, most cruel and perfidious people in
the world.” They are “honest, industrious, strongly affectionate and
self-denying,” if we are to credit the account of the Italian missionary,
Antonio Ventimiglia. When such diversity of opinion is manifested about
the people, some discordance might naturally be supposed to exhibit
itself in the matter of their potations. But this is not thus. The great
drink of the Beajus is allowed on all hands to be the _ava_ or _cava_,
prepared from the _piper methysticum_, or intoxicating pepper plant. This
is a shrub with thick roots, long heart-shaped leaves, and a clump or
spike of berries. The root is chewed only—it is satisfactory to learn—by
young girls with good teeth and dainty mouths.[110] Water or cocoa-nut
milk is poured on the masticated pulp, fermentation ensues, and the
_Beajus_ drink and become drunken. The mass of chewed matter is kneaded
with considerable dexterity by practised professionals. “Every tongue is
mute,” says Mariner—one of the crew of a vessel seized by the natives
in the commencement of this century,—“while this operation is going on;
every eye is upon them, watching every motion of their arms as they
describe the various curvilinear turns essential to success.” _Ava_ is
also drunk in Otaheite, in the Feejee islands, and those of the Marquesas
and of the South Seas.
CHINA.
_Tar-asun_, extracted from barley or wheat, is the beer of China. It is
sweet, and commonly drunk warm, before distillation. The mixed liquor
from which it is prepared is called _tchoo_, or wine; after that, _sam_
or _san_ is prefixed, to show its hot nature. _Samtchoo_—the word is
spelt in many ways—may, says Barrow (_Travels_, p. 304), be considered
the basis of the best _arrack_, itself a mere rectification of the above
spirit with the addition of molasses and the juice of the cocoa-nut tree.
_Bell’s Travels_, ii., 9.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
ENGLAND.
Love of the English for Beer—A National Drink—Private
Brewing—A French View of English Society—Sir John
Barleycorn—The “Black Jack” and “Leather Bottel”—“Toby
Philpot”—Burton-on-Trent—Bottled Beer—Brewers—The Village
Ale-house—Various Beers.
“Back and syde goo bare, goo bare,
Both hande and foote goo colde;
But, Bellie, God send the good ale inowghe
Whether hyt be newe or old.”
“Brynge us home good ale, syr, brynge us home good ale,
And for our der lady’s love, brynge us som good ale.
Brynge us home no beff, syr, for that is full of bonys,
But brynge us home goode ale y-nough, for that my love alone ys;
Brynge us home no wetyn brede, for yᵗ be ful of branne,
Nothyr of no ry brede, for yᵗ is of yᵉ same;
Brynge us home no porke, syr, for yᵗ is verie fatt,
Nothyr no barly brede, for neythir love I that;
Brynge us home no muton, for that is tough and lene,
Neyther no trypys, for thei be seldyn clene;
Brynge us home no veel, syr, that do I not desyr,
But brynge us home good ale y-nough to drynke by yᵉ fyer;
Brynge us home no syder, nor no palde[111] wyne,
For, and yᵘ do, thow shalt have Criste’s curse and mine.”
The foregoing verses epitomise the praise of good beer. The first is from
one of the earliest known drinking songs in the English language—the
last is an old Wassail song—the Wassail bowl, which was of hot spiced
ale, with roasted apples bobbing therein,—a kindly way of welcome on New
Year’s Eve, of Saxon derivation as its name “Wes-hal,” _be of health_, or
_your health_, testifies.
That the Anglo-Saxon took kindly to his beer, we have already seen; and
that that feeling exists at the present day is undoubted, for what says
the refrain of a comparatively modern drinking song?
“I loves a drop of good beer—I does—
I’se partickler fond of my beer—I is—
And ⸺ their eyes,
If ever they tries
To rob a poor man of his beer.”
Its popularity has never waned—and it has reached to such a height that
the brewing trade seems to be instituted for the propagation of Peers
of the realm—a fact which Dr. Johnson even could not have foreseen,
although, at the sale of Thrale’s brewery, he did say that they had not
met together to sell boilers and vats, but “the potentiality of growing
rich beyond the dream of avarice.”
It was the national drink—for tea and coffee were not introduced into
England until the middle of the seventeenth century—and it is only of
very modern times that the “free breakfast table” fad of statesmanship
has made those beverages so popular, by bringing them within the means of
the very poorest. Beer was, perforce, drank morning, noon and night by
those, and they were the vast majority, who could not afford wine—and,
as a rule, after the Norman Conquest, when the Anglo-Saxons copied the
soberer customs of their conquerors, the English were not drunkards as a
nation; in fact, although almost all their jests hinge on drinking, there
is in most of them an underlying moral, which in print are as telling as
in this illustration, which, in deference to nasty Mrs. Grundy, has been
slightly toned down. Here is very cleverly satirised for reprobation the
phases of men under the influence of drink. How it transforms them into
beasts, some like lions, others like asses and calves, sensual as hogs,
greedy as goats, stupid as gulls.
[Illustration]
Every man brewed his own beer up to the seventeenth century, when we find
Pepys speaking of Cobb’s strong ales at Margate; and in the reign of
Queen Elizabeth the public brewing had begun at Burton, for an inquiry
was made by Walsingham to Sir Ralph Sadler, the governor of Tutbury
Castle, as to “What place neere Tutbury, beere may be provided for her
Majesty’s use?” and the answer was that it might be obtained at Burton,
three miles off. Good Queen Bess would, indeed, have fared badly without
her beer, for her breakfast beverages were always beer and wine.
Yet every one was fairly sober. They were weaned on alcoholic liquors,
and, consequently, enjoyed them as foods, as they undoubtedly are, if
properly used. It is very well to “see our sen as others see us,” but
it is almost impossible to agree with Estienne Perlin, who published
his _Description des Royaulmes d’Angleterre et d’Escosse_, at Paris in
1558, in which he says that the English “sont fort grands yvrongnes.”
His description is, we feel, as untrustworthy as his English. “Car si
un Anglois vous veult traicter, vous dira en son langage, _vis dring a
quarta rim vim gasquim, vim hespaignol, vim malvoysi_, c’est a dire veulx
tu venir boire une quarte de vin du gascoigne, une autre d’espaigne,
& une autre de malvoisie, en beuvant & en mengeant vous diront plus de
cent fois _drind iou_, c’est a dire je m’en vois boyre a toy, & vous
leur responderes en leur langage _iplaigiu_, qui est a dire, je vous
plege. Si vous les remarcies vous leurs dires en leurs langages, _god
tanque artelay_, c’est a dire, je vous remercie de bon cœur. Eulx estans
yvres, vous jureront le sang et le mort que vous beures tout ce que vous
tenes dedans vostre tace, & vous diront ainsi, _bigod sol drind iou
agoud oin_.” It is much to be feared that the worthy Frenchman, if his
description is to be at all relied on, mixed with rather a fast lot.
Ale was looked upon as a kindly creature, and our ancestors of the
seventeenth century had several ballads in praise of the “little
Barleycorn” and the indictment, as well as the “Bloody Murther,” of Sir
John Barleycorn. From this latter the peasant poet, Burns, plagiarised
right royally. There was also a very curious Chap book published in the
early part of the eighteenth century, entitled,
“The whole TRIAL and INDICTMENT of _Sir_ JOHN BARLEY-CORN—_Kⁿᵗ_.
A Person of Noble Birth and Extraction, and well known by Rich and Poor
throughout the Kingdom of _Great Britain_: Being accused of several
Misdemeanours, by him committed against His Majesty’s Liege People; by
killing some, wounding others, and bringing Thousands to Beggary, and
ruins many a poor Family.
Here you have the Substance of the Evidence given in against him on
his Trial, with the Names of the Judges, Jury, and Witnesses. Also the
Comical Defence Sir _John_ makes for himself, and the Character given him
by some of his Neighbours, namely, _Hewson_ the Cobbler, an honest friend
of Sir John’s, who is entomb’d as a _Memorandum_, at the _Two Brewers_ in
_East Smithfield_.
_Taken in Short Hand by_ Thomas Tosspott, _Foreman of the Jury_.”
[Illustration]
One of the witnesses, hight Mistress _Full-Pot_, the hostess, called in
his defence, thus winds up her evidence,—
“Nay, I beseech you, give me leave to speak to you; if you put him to
Death, all _England_ is undone, for there is not such another in the
Land that can do as he can do, and hath done; for he can make a Cripple
to go, he can make a Coward to fight with a valiant Soldier, nay, he can
make a good Soldier feel neither Hunger or Cold. Besides, for Valour in
himself, there are few that can encounter with him, for he can pull down
the strongest Man in the World, and lay him fast asleep.”
Of course, the jury found a verdict of _Not Guilty_.
Beer has a large literature of its own, principally metrical, but
this has pretty well been collected in two books—_The Curiosities of
Ale and Beer_, by John Bickerdyke; and _In Praise of Ale_, by W. T.
Marchant—either of which would be a valuable addition to any one’s
library. Yet in neither of them is met with Ned Ward’s “_Dialogue between
Claret and Darby Ale_,” published 1691, in which each of the drinks speak
for themselves; and, of course, the arguments of ale are all potent over
his antagonist. Space will only allow of a very short extract.
“_Darby._—I’m glad to know you, High and Mighty _Sir_;
Think you your pompous empty Name could stir
My Choler? No, your Title makes me fear
As much as if you’d been _Six Shilling Beer_.
_Claret._—Thou _Son of Earth_, thou dull insipid thing,
To level me, who am of Liquors _King_,
With lean _Small Beer_, but that thou art not worth
My Anger, else I’de frown thee into Earth.
_Darby._—I neither fear your Frown, nor court your Smile;
But, if I’m not mistaken all this while,
By other names than Claret you are known—
_Claret._—You do not hear me, Sir, the Fact disown,
Some call me _Barcelona_, some _Navar_,
Some _Syracuse_, but at the Vintner’s Bar
_My_ name’s _Red Port_. But call me what they will,
_Claret_ I am, and will be Claret still,” etc., etc.
[Illustration]
Not content with praising the liquor ale, our ancestors fell to
eulogising the vessels used for its consumption, and the “Black Jack” and
“Leather Bottel” both came in for their meed of praise. Sketches of a
fine example of each are here given, taken from the national collection
in the British Museum.
The Black Jack is a jug or pitcher, made of leather, which was sometimes
ornamented with a silver rim and a silver plate with the owner’s name or
coat of arms engraved thereon. Here is a short lyric, “In praise of the
Black Jack.”[112]
“Be your liquor small, or as thick as mudd,
The cheating bottle cryes, good, good, good,
Whereat the master begins to storme,
Cause he said more than he could performe.
_And I wish that his heires may never want Sack,_
_That first devis’d the bonny black Jack._
No Tankerd, Flaggon, Bottle nor Jugg
Are half so good, or so well can hold Tugg,
For when they are broke, or full of cracks,
Then they must fly to the brave black Jacks.
_And I wish_, etc.
When the Bottle and Jack stands together, O fie on’t,
The Bottle looks just like a dwarfe to a Gyant;
Then had we not reason Jacks to chuse
For this’l make Boots, when the Bottle mends shoes.
_And I wish_, etc.
And as for the bottle you never can fill it
Without a Tunnell, but you must spill it,
’Tis as hard to get in, as it is to get out,
’Tis not so with a Jack, for it runs like a Spout
_And I wish_, etc.
And when we have drank out all our store,
The Jack goes for Barme to brew us some more;
And when our Stomacks with hunger have bled,
Then it marches for more to make us some bread.
_And I wish_, etc.
I now will cease to speak of the Jack,
But hope his assistance I never shall lack,
And I hope that now every honest man,
Instead of Jack will y’clip him John.
_And I wish_, etc.”
But the composer of “A Song in praise of the Leather Bottel” could rise
to the magnitude of his subject in a far superior manner than the
preceding poet, the refrain of his song being of a higher type.
“And I wish in Heaven his Soul may dwell,
That first devised the Leather Bottel.”
[Illustration]
The uses of the Bottel were so manifest, and its material so superior to
any other, that it occupied a higher position. It was better than wood,
for it would not run, and was unbreakable. When a man and his wife fell
out, as will occasionally happen even in the best matrimonial existence,
the bottel could be thrown at each other, without great injury either to
human, or the bottel. It held no temptation to steal, as if it were of
silver; nor could it be broken, as if it were of glass—because, as the
song justly says,—
“Then what do you say to these Glasses fine?
Yes, they shall have no Praise of mine;
For when a Company there are sat,
For to be merry, as we are met;
Then, if you chance to touch the Brim,
Down falls your Liquor, and all therein;
If your Table Cloath be never so fine,
There lies your Beer, your Ale or Wine;
It may be for a small Abuse,
A young Man may his Service lose;
But had it been in a Leather Bottel,
And the Stopple in, then all had been well.”
The rhymester recapitulates the gratitude of all classes for this
extremely handy and unbreakable convenience, and winds up thus, somewhat
sadly—
“Then when the Bottel doth grow old,
And will good Liquor no longer hold,
Out of its side you may take a Clout,
Will mend your Shooes when they’r worn out;
Else take it, and hang it upon a Pin,
It will serve to put many Trifles in,
As Hinges, Awls, and Candle-ends,
For young Beginners must have such things.
_Then I wish_, etc.”
The next most popular English drinking vessel was the _greybeard_, or
as it was sometimes, but seldom, called the _Bellarmine_, from the
Cardinal of that name so famous for his controversial works. These jugs
were imported largely from the Low Countries, where the Cardinal’s name
was a reproach. These greybeards are of very common occurrence, being
frequently found in excavating on the sites of old houses.
Two centuries after the greybeard, came the brown Staffordshire _Toby
Philpot_, an enormously stout old gentleman, whose arms and hands
encircle his enormous paunch, and his three-cornered hat forms a most
convenient lip, whence the ale can be poured. It owes its origin to
a once very popular drinking song, entitled “The Brown Jug,” which
is an imitation from the Latin of Hieronymus Amaltheus, by Francis
Fawkes, M.A., published in 1761, which is the date of the accompanying
illustration.
[Illustration]
“Dear Tom, this brown jug, which now foams with mild ale,
Out of which I now drink to sweet Nan of the Vale,
Was once Toby Philpot, a thirsty old soul,
As e’er cracked a bottle, or fathom’d a bowl;
In bousing about, ’twas his pride to excel,
And amongst jolly topers he bore off the bell.
It chanced as in dog-days he sat at his ease,
In his flower-woven arbour, as gay as you please,
With his friend and a pipe, puffing sorrow away,
And with honest Old Stingo sat soaking his clay,
His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died full big as a Dorchester Butt.
His body, when long in the ground it had lain,
And time into clay had dissolved it again,
A potter found out, in its covert so snug,
And with part of Fat Toby he form’d this brown jug;
Now sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale—
So here’s to my lovely sweet Nan of the Vale.”
Burton-on-Trent may be termed the Metropolis of English Beer, and there,
veritably, “Beer is King.” This pre-eminence is attributed to the quality
of the water, which seems peculiarly fitted for brewing purposes, and the
fact that the large brewers there located use none but the finest malt
and hops procurable. There is an old saying, that wherever an Englishman
has trodden, and where has he not? there may be found an empty beer
bottle. And, truly, he does carry the taste for his natural beverage
wherever he goes, and the export trade is enormous, every ship wanting
freight, filling up with bottled beer, as a safe thing. Fuller, in his
_Worthies of England_ (ed. 1662, p. 115), gives his account of the origin
of bottled beer. Speaking of Alexander Nowell, who was made Dean of St.
Paul’s as soon as Queen Elizabeth came to the throne, he mentions his
fondness for fishing, and says, “Without offence it may be remembred,
that leaving a _Bottle_ of _Ale_ (when fishing) in the _Grasse_; he
found it some dayes after, no _Bottle_, but a _Gun_, such the sound at
the opening therof. And this is believed (Casualty is _Mother_ of more
_Inventions_ than _Industry_) the original of _bottled-ale_ in _England_.”
The London brewer had to be content, before Sir Hugh Myddleton brought
the New River to the Metropolis, with the water obtained from the Thames,
for Artesian wells were not, and other well water must, from the crowded
state of the City, have been highly charged with organic matter. But
their trade was so important that they were incorporated into a Gild,
and the Brewers’ Company is now in existence, having their Hall in Addle
Street, Wood Street. The City still maintains the importance of beer as
a beverage by keeping an Ale Conner, whose duty is to taste ales, and
see that the price charged is not excessive. Their oath of office may be
found in the _Liber Albus_, published at the instance of the Government.
[Illustration: VILLAGE INN.]
[Illustration: VILLAGE INN.]
The names of our great English brewers are too well known among the
English people to need recapitulation—and space is too scarce to describe
their premises. The London draymen have always been noted as a race of
tall stalwart men, and brewers generally have taken a pride in getting
the largest and strongest horses for their work. These two draymen are
of the time of George I., and the weight they are carrying contrasts
favourably with the satire of a huge dray horse dragging a four and a
half gallon cask. On one notable occasion brewers’ draymen have gone
beyond their last. When General Haynau visited Barclay’s Brewery, they
rose in indignation against him and chased him from the place, because it
was alleged that the General had caused a lady to be flogged!
[Illustration]
The Village Ale-house is, or was, the village club, and certainly is
a welcome place of rest for the wayfarer. They are always clean, and
frequently quaint, although now-a-days it would be hard to find, as
Rowlandson did, a turnspit dog on duty.
[Illustration]
The names of ales are legion; but some are worthy of a passing notice
on account of their strength, such as some of the College Ales, those
brewed at the birth of an heir—to be drank at his coming of age, Ten
Guinea Ale, etc., and there are any quantity of pseudo beers—_i.e._
those not made from malt and hops, China Ale, Radish Ale, ale made from
beet or mangel wurzel, and heather beer, which latter is of so great
antiquity that its method of manufacture is said to have been lost with
the extirpation of the Picts, although some say it was brewed by the
Danes. It is probable that the flowers and tops of the heath were used
as a substitute for hops, as, previous to the introduction of the latter
plant, broom, wormwood and other bitter herbs were used.
J. A.
[Illustration: _After Rowlandson._]
FRANCE: Cerevisia; Double Bière; Adulteration. GERMANY: Mum;
Beer Factories; Faust. INDIA: Pachwai, Piworree. JAPAN: Saki;
Kæmpfer. RUSSIA: Kvas; Vodki; Pivo. SWEDEN: Spruce. TARTARY:
Baksoum.
FRANCE.
In France beer was originally known as _cervoise_ from the Low Latin
_cerevisia_. There are two sorts, white and red; the latter has more
hops. When much grain enters into the composition it is called _double
bière_. Its qualities vary here as elsewhere, according to the grain
employed in its manufacture, the malt, and the fermentation. It has been
commonly adulterated with _ledum palustre_ or wild rosemary, a strong
narcotic. Allusions to beer are comparatively infrequent in French works.
The details of its manufacture, which present no remarkable points of
variation, may be found in any French work on brewing.
[Illustration: _After A. L. Mayer._]
GERMANY.
Of the many beers of this country, perhaps the most deserving of notice
here is the _Mum_ of Brunswick, well known and appreciated for its
excellence. The process observed in its manufacture has been, it is said,
always kept a mystery,[113] and to prevent discovery, the men who brewed
it were hired for life. The origin of the word _Mum_ is obscure. The
German _Mumme_, a strong ale producing silence[114] from intoxication;
the Danish word for a mask, because it exhibits the parties drinking
it with a new face; and _Christian Mummer_ of Brunswick, the supposed
inventor of the drink, have been by turns suggested. The varied kinds of
_Schenk_, or winter beer, and _Lager_, or summer beer, are fairly well
known. The Leipzig Goose and the Berlin white beer are refreshing drinks
in summer. An excellent description of _Bierbrauerei_ apparatus is given
in Brockhaus’ _Conversations Lexikon_, Band iii. The most important beer
factories are in Munich,[115] Erlangen, Zirndorf, Nürnberg, and Vienna.
German beer is far less potent than that of England, but want of
strength is made up by the quantity taken. From the time of Goethe,
and long before, Germans were great consumers of beer, and the scene
in his “Faust,” of students in Auerbach’s Cellar, was typical of his
time. Now-a-days there is no degeneracy in the German beer drinker, and
a Viennese “Saufender Renommist” will drink his thirty half-pints of
_Märzen_ at a sitting. German beers are now readily attainable at any
German restaurant in London.
INDIA.
The Hill-tribes of India commonly consume _Pachwai_, prepared from rice
and other grain in Bengal. In Nepaul a beer named _Phaur_, made from rice
or wheat, is brewed much in the same manner as English ale, which it is
said strongly to resemble. It is in considerable repute and, according
to Hamilton,[116] wheat and barley are in Nepaul reared for the express
purpose of making the beer and other drinks similar to it. In the West
Indies the negroes make a fermented drink resembling beer from _cassava_,
which in Barbadoes is termed _piworree_,[117] and in other places
_ouycou_.
This plant, the _manioc_ or _mandioc_ of America, grows to the size of
a small tree, and produces roots like our parsnips.[118] _Ouycou_ is
sometimes brewed very strong. It is considered nourishing and refreshing,
as indeed most drinks which gratify the palate seem to be considered.
Molasses and yams are used in its preparation. The liquor is red.
_Piworree_ or _paiwari_ is also made by the Indians in Honduras, as in
Brazil, from cassava. Cassava bread carbonised superficially is placed in
hot water until fermentation arises. To promote this, feminine chewing is
found efficacious. The taste, says Simmonds, is said to resemble that of
ale, but is not “quite so agreeable—this may easily be believed.” _Cela
dépend_, as in the case of the _chica_ of the sierras of South America.
JAPAN.
Kæmpfer, in his _History of Japan_, i., 121, tells us that in the
manufacture of _Sacke_ or _Saki_,[119] a strong and wholesome beer
produced from rice, the Japanese are not excelled by any other people.
This beer, a very ancient drink, is white when fresh, but becomes brown,
if it remains long in the cask. It is manufactured to the highest
degree of excellence in Osacca, and thence exported to other countries.
The beer’s name is said to be derived from that of this city, being
the genitive case of the word, with the initial letter omitted. It is
wholesome and pleasant, but should be drunk moderately warm.[120] There
are many varieties of _saki_, distinguished by different names.
RUSSIA.
_Quass_, or _Kvas_, a word signifying _sour_, an ancient Scythian
beverage, is the ordinary household beer of Russia. A variety of it
called _Kisslyschtschy_ is variably described as exceedingly pleasant,
and as an abominable small beer, something like sweet wort or treacle
beer, almost as vile as the _Vodki_ or Russian gin. These matters of
course depend on individual taste. The Russian _pivo_, also in common
use, is said to resemble German beer, but German beers are many and
diverse.
SWEDEN.