Tartars, Khurgese, and Calmucks of the Russian Steppes, and Central and
South Western Asia. Perhaps the first mention of it may be found in the
_Ipatof Annals_, published at St. Petersburg, 1871. “In 1182, Prince Igor
Seversky was taken prisoner by the Polovtsky, and the captors got so
drunk upon Koumiss that they allowed their prisoner to escape.” The old
monk and traveller Gulielmus de Rubruquis, who travelled in Tartary in
the middle of the thirteenth century, says: “The same evening, the guide
who had conducted us, gave us some _Cosmos_. After I had drunk thereof,
I sweat most extremely from the dread and novelty, because I never drank
of it before. Notwithstanding I thought it very savoury as indeed it
was.” And in another place, he thus refers to it: “Then they taste it,
and being pretty sharp, they drink it; for it biteth a man’s tongue
like wine of _raspes_,[154] when it is drunk. After a man has taken a
draught thereof, it leaveth behind it a taste like that of almond milk,
and maketh one’s inside feel very comfortable; and it also intoxicateth
weak heads.” Ser Marco Polo speaks of it. “Their drink is mare’s milk,
prepared in such a way, you would take it for a white wine; and a right
good drink it is, called by them _Kemiz_.”
It remained as a traveller’s curiosity until 1784, when Dr. John Grieve,
a surgeon, one of the many Scotchmen who have from time to time entered
the Russian service, wrote to the Royal Society of Edinburgh (who
published his communication in their “Transactions,” Vol. I., 1788). “An
account of the Method of making a Wine, called by the Tartars Koumiss,
with observations on its use in Medicine,” and, especially, he thought
that, “with the superaddition of a fermented spirit, it might be of
essential service in all those disorders where the body is defective
either in nourishment or strength.” And he further proved the benefit of
the milk-wine on three patients, two consumptive, and one syphilitic,
sending them to the Steppes among the Tartars, whence they returned
stout, and in perfect health. From time to time, until the middle of this
century, phthisical patients were sent to Tartary to undergo this milk
cure; but life among these nomad tribes, with its filth and privations,
was hardly congenial to a sick man, so that although some returned cured,
others came back only to die.
But, in 1858, Dr. Postnikof started an establishment for the cure of
diseases by fermented mare’s milk, at Samàra, in Eastern Russia, and a
similar establishment, about forty-five miles distant, was started by the
late Dr. Tchembulatof, both of which have been extremely well patronised,
as their places were well ordered, and the Koumiss was prepared in a
cleanly manner. So successful were they, that the Russian Government,
in 1870, started a place of their own for the cure of sick soldiers
belonging to the Kazan district. Here are beds for 100 soldiers and 20
officers.
The curative effect of fermented mare’s milk set people thinking
whether the milk of cows, which is much more easy to procure, would not
answer the same purpose. It was tried, and a new drink was given to the
civilized world, as also a new name, which was coined expressly for
it—GALAZYENE, from γάλα, milk, and ζῦμη, a ferment. It can be obtained in
London from the large dairies.
Dr. Polubensky gives the following formula for fermenting cow’s milk.
“An oak churn, such as is used for churning butter, has a bottle of
fermented cow’s or mare’s milk, five days old, poured into it in the
morning. A tumbler and a half of warm milk (of a temperature of about 90°
Fahr.), in which half an ounce of cane, still better milk, sugar has been
dissolved, and a bottle of skimmed cow’s milk, are then added.
“The addition of the sugar is made for the purpose of remedying the small
amount of lactine in cow’s milk; the water is added to make the milk,
which is rich in casein, thinner, and thus to facilitate its agitation
and emulsion. Skim milk is used because it contains less fat, an excess
of which interferes with fermentation. The mixture is then beaten up
during half an hour, to prevent the curdling of the casein, and is
then laid aside for three hours. (This is effected at an ordinary room
temperature of 60° Fahr.)
“After the lapse of three hours, when the surface of the mixture is
covered with a film (of casein and fat in a non-emulsioned condition), it
is again agitated for half an hour, and another bottle of skim milk—with
or without warm water, according to the thickness of the milk—is added;
the whole mass is again churned for an hour and a half, or longer, until
the casein is well divided, and small bubbles appear on the surface of
the fluid. Then the mixture, having stood for half an hour, has a fresh
bottle of milk added to it, and the stirring is again renewed, with short
intervals, until the Koumiss is ready, which usually happens by 10
o’clock p.m., if its preparation was commenced at 8 a.m.
“The approaching completion of the Koumiss is known by a thick froth,
which sometimes rises very high, forming on its surface; while the full
completion of fermentation is recognised by a falling of the froth,
and by certain signs detectable by the ear and hand; the process of
churning becomes easier, and the splash of the drops during agitation
presents a clearer and more metallic sound. The Koumiss is then poured
into Champagne bottles, well corked, and left for the night at a room
temperature of from 60° to 70° Fahr. Towards morning, the Koumiss is
quite fit for use. Left in bottle till the next day, it becomes stronger,
but is still drinkable; while, if placed in a cold room, it may be used
even on the fifth day.
“In order that the preparation of Koumiss may be carried on successfully,
it will be necessary to put aside two bottles of the Koumiss first
prepared, and to keep them for three or four days, so as always to have a
bottle of four days old Koumiss in store for fermenting new portions of
milk, and of replacing the used bottles by new ones.”
This seems to be rather a long method of making Koumiss, compared to that
given by Dr. Wolff of Philadelphia, which is excessively simple.
“Take of grape sugar ½ oz.; dissolve in 4 ozs. of water. In about 2 ozs.
of milk dissolve 20 grains of compressed yeast, or else well washed and
pressed out brewer’s yeast. Mix the two in a quart Champagne bottle,
which is to be filled with good cow’s milk to within two inches of
the top; cork well, and secure the cork with string or wire, and place
in an ice chest or cellar at a temperature of 50° Fahr. or less, and
agitate three times a day. At the expiration of three or four days, at
the latest, the Koumiss is ready for use, and ought not then to be kept
longer than four or five days. It should be drawn with a Champagne syphon
tap, so that the carbonic acid may be retained, and the contents will not
entirely escape on opening the bottle.”
Be wary in opening a bottle of Koumiss, or you may be thoroughly
drenched, and have nothing left to drink, for it generates a large
quantity of carbonic acid gas, so much so, indeed, that extra thick
bottles should be used.
There is an interesting speculation abroad, that the milk which Jael gave
Sisera was fermented, and highly intoxicating, which rendered him in a
condition favourable for her purpose.
The Usbecks, Mongols, Kalmucks, and other Tartars not only make milk
into Koumiss, but distil a very strong spirit from it, which they call
_araka_, conjectured by some, from its high antiquity, to be the true
source whence the Indian _Arrack_ derives its name. The distillation
is generally effected by means of two earthen pots closely stopped,
from which the liquor slowly runs through a small wooden pipe into a
receiver, which is usually covered with a coating of wet clay. The
spirit, at first, is weak, but after two or three times distilling, it
becomes exceedingly intoxicating. Dr. Edward Clarke, in his _Travels in
Russia, Turkey, and Asia_, saw this process performed by means of a
still constructed of mud, or very coarse clay, having for the neck of the
retort a piece of cane.
J. A.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
ADDITIONAL DRINKS.
Jewish Prayers respecting various Drinks—Women’s
Tears—Dew—Oil—Sea Water—Blood—Vegetable Water—Ganges
Water—Vinegar—Ptisana—Toast Water—Bragget—Ballston Water—Warm
Water—Asses’ Milk—Ghee—Milk Beer—Kumyss—Syra—Lamb Wine—Rice
Wine—Garapa—Fenkål—Brandy and Port—Methylated Spirit.
In the Jewish prayers there is an especial, exclusive and extensive
blessing upon wine, which runs in the following wise:—
“Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, universal King, for the vine, and for
the fruit of the vine, and for the produce of the field, and for the
land of delight and goodness and amplitude which Thou hast been pleased
to give as an inheritance to thy people Israel, to eat of its fruit, and
to be satisfied with its goodness.” Then follow petitions for the divine
mercy upon those who say the blessing, upon Israel, God’s people, and
upon God’s city, Jerusalem, and upon Zion, the dwelling-place of His
glory, and upon His altar, and upon His temple.
The blessing concludes with a prayer for speedy transportation into the
holy city: “Bring us up into the midst thereof eftsoons, even in these
present days, that we may bless Thee in purity and holiness. For Thou art
good, and the Giver of good to all. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, for the
land and for the fruit of the vine.”
This beautiful prayer,[155] of which only the roughest sketch has been
given here, has been said by pious Hebrews at every meal in which wine
has been drunk from time immemorial. But upon wine alone has this honour
been conferred. Those who drink _Shecar_, or water, or any other beverage
except wine, say before their draught thus much only: “Blessed art Thou,
O Lord our God, universal King, by whose word all things were made;” and
after it, “Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, universal King, the Creator
of many souls, and their needs, for all which Thou hast created, to
keep alive the soul of every living thing. Blessed art Thou who livest
everlastingly.”
But these two prayers have no especial and necessary relation to drinks.
They are also used where aught is eaten which has not grown originally
and directly out of the earth, as, for example, the flesh of some beasts,
and birds, and fishes, and cheese, milk, butter, and honey.
In the present work particular attention has been given, in the case
of alcoholic drinks, to wines, spirits, liqueurs, and beers, and in
the case of non-alcoholic, to mineral waters, tea, coffee, and other
beverages usually considered non-intoxicant; but under both these widely
extended categories a large number of drinks must enter of which no
mention whatever has been made in the preceding pages. It remains for
us, therefore, to consider in the present chapter the most interesting
and important of these drinks which have been hitherto excluded. Of
the curious and, in many cases, repulsive liquids which have from time
to time been taken, either to assuage the pangs of human thirst, or to
gratify the taste of the human palate in health or in disease, the reader
who has not devoted some little time and attention to the investigation
of this subject will probably have but a very faint conception. To go no
farther back on the pathway of time than to the age of John Taylor, the
water poet, we find so strange a drink as women’s tears.
But at a date far earlier than that of the water poet, the date of the
Babylonian Talmud, in _Machshirin_, vi. 64, there are seven liquids
comprehended under the generic term _drink_ (Lev. xi. 34, and therefore
liable to ceremonial defilement), dew, water, wine, oil, blood, milk,
and honey. Upon every one of these seven liquids something curious and
interesting might be written.
About these drinks a question arises in the Talmud, whether under water
are included such beverages as mulberry water, pomegranate water, and
other waters of fruits which have a _shem livoui_, or compound name.
Rambam the great Eagle, more commonly known as Maimonides, seems to
exclude these drinks from the general category. By honey is to be
understood the honey of bees; the honey of hornets is not to be numbered
in the list. In the _Tosephoth_ of _Shabbath_ it is asked, How do we know
that blood is a drink? Because it is said (Num. xxiii. 24), And drink the
blood of the slain. How do we know that wine is a drink? Because it is
said (Deut. xxxii. 14), And thou didst drink the pure blood of the grape.
How do we know that honey is a drink? Because it is said (Deut. xxxii.
13), But He made him to suck honey out of the rock. How do we know that
oil is a drink? Because it is said (Isa. xxv. 6), A feast of fat things.
How do we know that milk is a drink? Because it is said (Judges iv. 19),
And she opened a bottle of milk and gave him drink. How do we know that
dew is a drink? Because it is said (Judges vi. 38), And wringed the dew
out of the fleece, a bowl full of water. There is a curious addition,
reminding us of Taylor, the water poet. How do we know that the tears of
the eye are a drink? Because it is said (Ps. lxxx. 5), And givest them
tears to drink in great measure. How do we know that the water of the
nose is a drink? Because—but the reader has had probably enough of the
Rabbinical lucubrations.
A chapter of this book might, were not space a consideration, be devoted
to water, which Thales[156] declared to be the first principle of things,
and, according to Seneca,[157] _valentissimum elementum_. Iced, it was
inveighed[158] against by the Stoic philosopher, as injurious to the
stomach. The desire for it was said to proceed from a pampered appetite.
Pliny[159] speaks of a wine made from sea water, but considers it, with
Celsus, a bad stomachic. In later times sea water has been converted into
fresh.
Bory de St. Vincent,[160] in his _Essais sur les Isles Fortunées_, an
entertaining description of the archipelago of the Canaries, says that in
Fer, one of the Canary Islands, a nearly total privation of running water
was compensated by an extraordinary tree. Bacon (_Nov. Scient. Org._,
412), the Father Taillandier (_Lettr. Edit._, vii., 280), Corneille
(_Grand Dict._, under _Fer_) may be consulted about this tree, called
the holy one. Gonzalez d’Oviedo (ii., 9) says it distils water through
its trunk, branches, and leaves, which resemble so many fountains. The
“exaggerator Jakson,” says Bory de St. Vincent, being at Fer in 1618, saw
this tree dried up during the day, but at night yielding enough water
to supply the thirst of 8,000 inhabitants and 100,000 other animals.
According to this authority, it was distributed from time immemorial all
over the island by pipes of lead. It is nothing to “Jakson” that lead was
not known from time immemorial. Viana (_Cant._, i.) speaks of the sacred
tree as a sort of celestial pump.[161] Another author says the holy tree
was called _Garoe_, and that its fruit resembled an acorn, that its
leaves were evergreen, and like those of a laurel. During an east wind
the water harvest was the most abundant.
This celebrated vegetable product was unfortunately destroyed by a
hurricane in 1625. But even about this date authors disagree. While Nunez
de la Pena is an authority for that given, Nieremberg assures us the
catastrophe occurred in 1629. Another date mentioned is 1612.
The view of Bory de St. Vincent is that this holy tree was nothing
more than the _Laurus Indica_ of Linnæus, which is indigenous to the
mountain summits of the Canary Islands. His concluding remark is pregnant
with common sense: _Si les auteurs que nous ont parlé du Garoé ont dit
qu’il était seul de son espèce dans l’île, c’est qu’ils n’étaient pas
botanistes, et qu’ils n’avaient pas réfléchi que cet arbre ayant un
fruit, devait se reproduire, comme tous les autres végétaux._
The water of rivers is often clarified in a peculiar manner before
drinking. For instance, that of the Ganges is said to be improved by
rubbing certain nuts on the edges of the vessel in which it is kept,[162]
though how this may be it is as difficult to understand, as how the
turtle is affected by a touch of his carapace, or the Dean and Chapter—to
borrow Sydney Smith’s illustration—of St. Paul’s by stroking the cupola
of that cathedral. The Nile water is also said to be purified by treating
the vessel which holds it in a similar manner to that which holds the
water of the Ganges, with bitter almonds. The bitter waters of Marah were
made sweet in a far different fashion.
The _Melo-cacti_ of South America have earned for themselves the name of
“springs of the desert,” owing to their liquor-preserving properties. An
ingenious drink is that of the natives of Siberia, a drink prepared of
an intoxicating mushroom,[163] in a peculiar and economical manner, by
natural distillation.
Vinegar appears as a beverage in a few countries only, and then for
special purposes. The Roman soldiers received it as a refreshing drink on
their marches, and even in the time of Constantine their rations included
vinegar on one day and wine on the other. After all, this vinegar may
have been nothing more than what many of us drink at present under the
title of wine. That “excellent claret,” for instance, “fit for any
gentleman’s table,” which may be had at 1_s._ 6_d._ a bottle, may be very
like the vinegar of the Roman soldier. Roman reapers used it mixed with
water, we are told by Theocritus (Idyl x.), and before that time Ruth was
directed to dip her morsel in the vinegar when she gleaned in the field
of Boaz.
_Ptisana_, mentioned by Celsus (iii., 7), appears to have been a mixture
of rice or barley water and vinegar.
Toast-water is a drink which may be held by some unworthy of mention,
but they may change their minds after reading what Mr. James Sedgwick,
apothecary at Stratford-le-Bow, had to say on this subject in the year
1725. The burning of a crust and putting it hissing hot into water has,
according to this gentleman, several good advantages. By it, the “raw
coldness from nitrous particles are (sic) taken off and moderated, and it
becomes more palatable, besides which, from the sudden hissing opposition
of temperament, an elevation is made of the heterogeal particles, a
motion, an interchanging position is obtained: These Principles during
their intercourses will be imbibed and sucked into the bread in order,
according to their respective distance and gravities, whereby the liquor
will become more pure and almost uncompounded, less foreign than it was
under its natural acception.” And yet though all these securities are
taken to blunt the “frigorific mischiefs” of the water in general, yet
in many constitutions and at particular seasons it is not to be trusted
without some “substantial warmth to give and maintain a glowing, e’er it
dilutes and disperses.” He goes on to say that it is better to add wine
to the water, “to prevent the contingent hazards from the limpid element.”
_Braket_ or _Bragget_ or _Bragwort_, was a drink made of the wort of ale,
honey, and spices.[164] Her mouth, says Chaucer, speaking of Alison, the
carpenter’s pretty wife in the _Mother’s Tale_,
“was swete as _braket_ or the meth,
Or hord of apples, laid in hay or heth.”
And in Beaumont and Fletcher’s _Little Thief, or the Night-Walker_, Jack
Wildbrain speaks with contempt of
“One that knows not neck-beef from a pheasant,
Nor cannot relish _braggat_ from ambrosia.”
The opponents of alcoholic drinks are often met by the objection
that some of the drinks recommended by themselves are alcoholic, as
indeed they often are. Even water appears to possess, in some cases,
an intoxicating property. Pliny (_Nat. Hist._, ii., cvi.) speaks of a
_Lyncestis aqua_,[165] of a certain acidity, which makes men drunken.
The celebrated _Ballston_ waters in the State of New York, are said to
be affected with qualities “highly exhilarating,” sometimes producing
vertigo, which has been followed by drowsiness; in other words, they who
drink them exhibit the usual symptoms of drunkenness.
Timothy Dwight, in his _Travels in New England and New York_, says that
these waters are considered by the farmers of the neighbourhood as an
excellent beverage, and are sent for from a considerable distance for
drink to labourers during haymaking and harvesting, a time well known
to be full of desire on the part of country people employed in these
agricultural pursuits, for alcoholic refreshment. “They supersede,” says
Dwight, “in a great measure the use of any ardent spirits.” But since
the result of drinking these waters seems precisely the same, as far as
regards inebriation, as that of drinking beer or other alcoholic liquor,
it is questionable whether any advantage is gained by this supersession.
The properties of the _Saratoga_ water, situated some seven miles from
that of _Ballston_, are also of a very remarkable nature. They abound to
such an extent in a species of gas, that we are told a very nice sort of
breakfast bread is baked from them instead of yeast.
The Romans considered warm water an agreeable drink at the conclusion of
the chief repast of the day. This may explain why Julius Cæsar was always
taken ill after dinner.
Many drinks are derived from animals, either wholly as milk and blood, or
from animals and vegetables in common, as oil.
It is said that there are people here in England who like—so strange is
the diversity of tastes—a draught of oil from the liver of a cod as much
as an Esquimaux approves of a draught of the oil of a porpoise or a seal.
Of milk a large catalogue of drinks can be reckoned. First, there are
the different kinds of milk of different animals, as the milk of asses,
of women, of goats, of cows, of sheep, of reindeer, of camels, of sows,
and of mares. Then it may be swallowed as it is drawn, or in the form of
whey, or curdled. _Ghee_[166] is a common favourite throughout all India.
It is a stale butter clarified by boiling and straining, and then set
to cool, when it remains in a semi-liquid or oily state, and is used in
cooking, or is drunk by the natives.
In milk-beer, milk is substituted for water. _Kef_ is a kind of
effervescing fermented milk, much resembling _Koumiss_ (or rather
_Kumyss_), of which the best is probably to be obtained in Samàra.
_Youourt_[167] is a favourite drink at Constantinople, made of milk
curdled after a peculiar fashion. _Syra_, a form allied with the German
_Säure_, is a sour whey, used for drink like small beer in Norway and
Iceland. _Aizen_ and _Leban_ are both sorts of _Kumyss_, one of the
Tartars, the other of the Arabs. The latter have also an intoxicating
liquor _Sabzi_, made of _Bhang_, a species of hemp. The green leaf from
which the drink derives its name is pounded and diluted with sugared
water.
Even the warm blood of living animals has been considered suitable for
a drink. In the book of Ser Marco Polo the Venetian, concerning the
marvels of the East, we are told, the Tartar will sustain himself in an
economical manner, by opening a vein in the neck of the horse upon which
he rides, and having taken a sufficient drink will close the aperture,
and ride on as before. Carpini says much the same of the Mongols. This
appears indeed to have been a time-honoured institution.
Dionysius Periegetes, in the nineteenth chapter of his _Description of
the World_, treating of Scythia and other ancient nations situated in
what is now known as Great Tartary, says of the Massagetæ that they have
no eating of bread nor any native wine, but
ἵππων
Αἵματι μίσγοντες λευκὸν γάλα δαῖτα τίθεντο.
“Or with horses blood,
And white milk mingled set their banquets forth,”
_Orbis Desc._, 578.
And Sidonius, to the same effect,
“_solitosque cruentum_
_Lac potare Getas, et pocula tingere venas._”
_Parag. ad Avitum._
Another strange variety of drink is made by the Peruvians. The ordinary
_chica_ is mixed with the bloody garments of a slain warrior. Temple
(_Travels_, ii., 311).
According to Lobo, the Abyssinians esteem the gall one of the most
delicious parts of a beast, and drink glasses of it, as epicures with us
drink _Château Lafitte_. Pearce (_Adventures in Abyssinia_, i., 95) says
that they also drink blood warm from the animal with an extraordinary
relish.