Besides the authorities for this branch of the inquiry already cited,
there are a few others, which it may assist the student to set down
herewith:--
1. A Collection of Ordinances and Regulations for the Government of
the Royal Household (Edward III. to William and Mary). 4to, 1790.
2. The book of Nurture. By Hugh Rhodes, of the King's Chapel. Printed
in the time of Henry VIII. by John Redman. 4to.
3. A Breviate touching the Order and Government of the House of a
Nobleman. 1605. _Archaeologia_, xiii.
4. Orders made by Henry, Prince of Wales, respecting his Household.
1610. _Archaeologia_, xiv.
5. The School of Good Manners. By William Phiston or Fiston. 8vo,
1609.
6. The School of Virtue, the Second Part. By Richard West. 12mo, 1619.
7. The School of Grace; or, A Book of Nurture. By John Hart. 12mo.
(About 1680.)
8. England's Newest Way in all Sorts of Cookery. By Henry Howard, Free
Cook of London. 8vo, London, 1703.
9. A Collection of above three hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick
and Surgery, for the use of all Good Wives, Tender Mothers, and
Careful Nurses. By several Hands. The second edition, to which is
added a second part. 8vo, London, 1729. Fifth edition, 8vo, London,
1734.
10. The Compleat City and Country Cook. By Charles Carter. 8vo,
London, 1732.
11. The Compleat Housewife: or, Accomplish'd Gentlewomans Companion:
Being a collection of upwards of Five Hundred of the most approved
Receipts in Cookery, Pastry, Confectionery, Preserving, Pickles,
Cakes, Creams, Jellies, Made Wines, Cordials. With Copper Plates....
And also Bills of Fare for every month in the year.... By E. Smith.
Seventh edition, with very large additions, near fifty Receipts
being communicated just before the author's death. 8vo, London, 1736.
Eleventh edition. 8vo, London, 1742.
12. The Complete Family Piece: A very Choice Collection of Receipts
in... Cookery. Seventh Edition. 8vo, London, 1737.
13. The Modern Cook. By Vincent La Chapelle, cook to the Prince of
Orange. Third edition. 8vo, London, 1744.
14. A Treatise of all Sorts of Foods, both Animal and Vegetable, and
also of Drinkables, written originally in French by the Learned M.L.
Lemery. Translated by D. Hay, M.D. 8vo, London, 1745.
15. The Housekeeper's Pocket-Book. By Sarah Harrison. Sixth edition, 2
vols. 12mo, London, 1755.
16. Professed Cookery. By Ann Cook. Third edition. 8vo, London (about
1760).
17. The Experienced English Housekeeper. By Elizabeth Raffald. Second
edition. 8vo, London, 1771. There were an eighth, tenth, and eleventh
editions, and two others, described as "New Editions," between this
date and 1806. The compiler dedicates her book to "The honourable Lady
Elizabeth Warburton," in whose service she had been. She mentions that
the volume was published by subscription, and that she had obtained
eight hundred names. In the preface Mrs. Raffald begins by observing:
"When I reflect upon the number of books already in print upon this
subject, and _with what contempt they are read_, I cannot but be
apprehensive that this may meet the same fate with some who will
censure before they either see it or try its value." She concludes by
saying that she had not meddled with physical receipts, "leaving them
to the physician's superior judgment, whose proper province they are."
The author of the "Experienced Housekeeper" tells us that she had not
only filled that post in noble families during fifteen years, but
had travelled with her employers, and so widened her sphere of
observation.
18. The Young Ladies' Guide in the Art of Cookery. By Elizabeth
Marshall. 8vo, Newcastle, 1777.
19. English Housewifery Exhibited in above 450 Receipts. By Elizabeth
Moxon. Fourth edition. 8vo, Leeds (about 1780).
20. The Practice of Modern Cookery. By George Dalrymple. 8vo,
Edinburgh, 1781.
21. The Ladies' Assistant for Regulating and Supplying the Table. By
Charlotte Mason. 8vo, London, 1786.
22. The Compleat Family Companion. 8vo, London, 1787 (?).
23. The Honours of the Table; or, Rules for Behaviour during Meals,
with the whole Art of Carving.... By the Author of "Principles of
Politeness," etc. (Trusler). Second edition. Woodcuts by Bewick. 12mo,
London, 1791.
24. The French Family Cook: being a complete system of French Cookery.
From the French. 8vo, London, 1793.
25. The British Housewife; or, The Cook's, Housekeeper's, and
Gardener's Companion. By Martha Bradley. 8vo.
26. Cookery and Pastry. By Mrs. Macivey. New edition, 12mo, Edinburgh,
1800.
27. The London Art of Cookery. By John Farley. Fourth edition. 8vo,
London, 1807.
28. The School of Good Living; or, A Literary and Historical Essay on
the European Kitchen, beginning with Cadmus, the Cook and King, and
concluding with the Union of Cookery and Chymistry. 12 mo, London,
1804.
29. _Culina Famulatur Medicina_. Receipts in Modern Cookery, with
a Medical Commentary by Ignotus, and revised by A. Hunter, M.D.,
F.A.S.L. and E. Fourth edition, 12mo, York, 1806.
30. The Universal Cook. By Francis Collingwood and T. Woollams. Fourth
edition. 8vo, London, 1806.
31. A Complete System of Cookery. By John Simpson, Cook. 8vo, London,
1806. Again, 8vo, London, 1816.
32. Simpson's Cookery Improved and Modernised. By H.W. Brand. 8vo,
London, 1834.
33. The Imperial and Royal Cook. By Frederick Nutt, Esquire, Author of
the "Complete Confectioner." 8vo, London, 1809.
34. The Housekeeper's Domestic Library. By Charles Millington. 8vo,
London, 1810.
35. The Housekeeper's Instructor; or, Universal Family Book. By W.A.
Henderson. Seventeenth edition. By S.C. Schrubbelie, Cook to the
Albany, London. 8vo, London, 1811.
36. The Art of Preserving all kinds of animal and vegetable Substances
for several years. By M. Appert. Translated from the French. Second
edition. 8vo, London, 1812. With a folding Plate.
37. Domestic Economy and Cookery, for Rich and Poor. By a Lady.
8vo, London, 1827. In the preface the author apprises us that a long
residence abroad had enabled her to become a mistress of the details
of foreign European cookery; but she adds: "The mulakatanies and
curries of India; the sweet pillaus, yahourt, and cold soups of
Persia; the cubbubs, sweet yaughs and sherbets of Egypt; the cold
soups and mixed meats of Russia, the cuscussous and honeyed paste
of Africa, have been inserted with the view of introducing a less
expensive and more wholesome and a more delicate mode of cookery."
38. Apician Morsels; or, Tales of the Table, Kitchen, and Larder. By
Dick Humelbergius Secundus. 8vo, London, 1834.
39. Cottage Economy and Cookery. 8vo, London, 1844.[Footnote:
Reprinted from the Journal of the Agricultural Society, 1843, vol.
iii, part I].
DIET OF THE YEOMAN AND THE POOR.
The staple food among the lower orders in Anglo-Saxon and the
immediately succeeding times was doubtless bread, butter, and
cheese, the aliment which goes so far even yet to support our rural
population, with vegetables and fruit, and occasional allowances of
salted bacon and pancakes, beef, or fish. The meat was usually boiled
in a kettle suspended on a tripod [Footnote: The tripod is still
employed in many parts of the country for a similar purpose] over a
wood-fire, such as is used only now, in an improved shape, for fish
and soup.
The kettle which is mentioned, as we observe, in the tale of "Tom
Thumb," was the universal vessel for boiling purposes [Footnote: An
inverted kettle was the earliest type of the diving-bell], and the
bacon-house (or larder), so called from the preponderance of that
sort of store over the rest, was the warehouse for the winter stock of
provisions [Footnote: What is called in some places the keeping-room
also accommodated flitches on the walls, and hams ranged along the
beams overhead; and it served at the same time for a best parlour].
The fondness for condiments, especially garlic and pepper, among the
higher orders, possibly served to render the coarser nourishment of
the poor more savoury and flavorous. "It is interesting to remark,"
says Mr. Wright [Footnote: "Domestic Manners and Sentiments," 1862,
p. 91], "that the articles just mentioned (bread, butter, and cheese)
have preserved their Anglo-Saxon names to the present time, while all
kinds of meat--beef, veal, mutton, pork, even bacon--have retained
only the names given to them by the Normans; which seems to imply that
flesh-meat was not in general use for food among the lower classes of
society."
In Malory's compilation on the adventures of King Arthur and his
knights, contemporary with the "Book of St. Alban's," we are expressly
informed in the sixth chapter, how the King made a great feast at
Caerleon in Wales; but we are left in ignorance of its character. The
chief importance of details in this case would have been the excessive
probability that Malory would have described an entertainment
consonant with the usage of his own day, although at no period of
early history was there ever so large an assemblage of guests at one
time as met, according to the fable, to do honour to Arthur.
In the tenth century Colloquy of Archbishop Alfric, the boy is made to
say that he is too young to eat meat, but subsists on cabbages,
eggs, fish, cheese, butter, beans, and other things, according to
circumstances; so that a vegetable diet was perhaps commoner in those
days even among the middle classes than at present. This youth, when
he is asked what he drinks, replies, water, or ale if he can get it.
The dish so deftly constructed by King Arthur, according to one of
his numerous biographers, exhibited that wedlock of fruit with animal
matter--fat and plums--which we post-Arthurians eye with a certain
fastidious repugnance, but which, notwithstanding, lingered on to
the Elizabethan or Jacobaean era--nay, did not make the gorge of our
grandsires turn rebellious. It survives among ourselves only in the
modified shape of such accessories as currant jelly and apple sauce.
But the nursery rhyme about Arthur and the bag-pudding of barley
meal with raisins and meat has a documentary worth for us beyond the
shadowy recital of the banquet at Caerleon, for, _mutato nomine_,
it is the description of a favourite article of popular diet in the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The narrative of Mrs. Thumb and
her pudding is more circumstantial than that of King Alfred and the
housewife; and if the tradition is worthless, it serves us so far,
that it faithfully portrays a favourite item of rustic consumption in
old times. We are told that the pudding was made in a bowl, and that
it was chiefly composed of the flesh and blood of a newly-killed hog,
laid in batter; and then, when all was ready, the bag with all its
savoury burden was put into a kettle.
As we are already on the threshold of legend and myth, we may linger
there a moment to recall to memory the resemblance between the
description of this piece of handiwork and that ascribed to good King
Arthur, who lived in days when monarchs were their own _chefs_,
for the Arthurian dish was also prepared in a bag, and consisted,
according to the ditty, of barley-meal and fat. Soberly speaking, the
two accounts belong, maybe, to something like the same epoch in the
annals of gastronomy; and a large pudding was, for a vast length
of time, no doubt, a prevailing _piece de résistance_ in all
frugal British households. It was the culinary forefather of
toad-in-the-hole, hot-pot, Irish stew, and of that devil-dreaded
Cornish pasty. The Elizabethan transmitters of these two Apician
nuggets possibly antedated the popular institution of the bag-pudding;
but the ancientest gastronomical records testify to the happy
introduction of the frying-pan about the era when we were under
Alfred's fatherly sway. It may have even preceded the grill, just
as the fork lagged behind the spoon, from which it is a seeming
evolution. That no reader may doubt the fact, that Tom's mother made
the pudding, and that Tom held the candle, we refer to the old edition
of this choice piece of chapman's ware, where an accurate drawing of
Mrs. Thumb, and the board, and the bowl, and Tom with the candle, may
be inspected. The _prima stamina_ of the modern fruit-pudding really
appear to be found in the ancient bag-pudding, of which Tom Thumb had
such excellent reason to be acquainted with the contents. The mode
of construction was similar, and both were boiled in a cloth. The
material and subsidiary treatment of course differed; but it is
curious that no other country possesses either the tart or the
pudding, as we understand them, and as the latter has perhaps been
developed from the dish, of the making of which Tom Thumb was
an eye-witness to his sorrow, so the covered fruit tart may not
improbably be an outgrowth from the old coffin pasty of venison or
game, with the superaddition of a dish for the safe custody of the
juice.
Another rather prominent factor in the diet of the poor classes, not
only in Scotland but in the North of England, was oatmeal variously
prepared. One very favourable and palatable way was by grinding the
meal a second time as fine as flour, boiling it, and then serving it
with hot milk or treacle. There is something in the nature of this
food so peculiarly satisfying and supporting, that it seems to have
been destined to become the staple nourishment of a poor population
in a cold and bracing climate. The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries
unquestionably saw a great advance in the mystery of cookery and
in the diversity of dishes, and the author of "Piers of Fulham"
complains, that men were no longer satisfied with brawn and powdered
beef, which he terms "store of house," but would have venison, wild
fowl, and heronshaw; and men of simple estate, says he, will have
partridges and plovers, when lords lack. He adds quaintly:
"A mallard of the dunghill is good enough for me,
With pleasant pickle, or it is else poison. pardy."
We have for our purpose a very serviceable relic of the old time,
called "A Merry Jest, how the Ploughman learned his Paternoster." The
scene purports to be laid in France, and the general outline may have
been taken from the French; but it is substantially English, with
allusions to Kent, Robin Hood, and so forth, and it certainly
illustrates the theme upon which we are. This ploughman was in fact a
farmer or husbandman, and the account of his dwelling and garden-stuff
is very interesting. We are told that his hall-roof was full of
bacon-flitches, and his store-room of eggs, butter, and cheese. He had
plenty of malt to make good ale--
"And Martlemas beef to him was not dainty;
Onions and Garlic had he enough,
And good cream, and milk of the cow."
But in "Vox Populi Vox Dei," written about 1547, and therefore
apparently not from the pen of Skelton, who died in 1529, it is said
that the price of an ox had risen to four pounds, and a sheep without
the wool to twelve shillings and upwards, so that the poor man could
seldom afford to have meat at his table. This evil the writer ascribes
to the exactions of the landlord and the lawyer. The former charged
too highly for his pastures, and the latter probably advanced money on
terms. The old poem depicts in sad colours the condition of the
yeoman at the same period, that had had once plenty of cows and cream,
butter, eggs, cheese, and honey; all which had gone to enrich upstarts
who throve by casting-counters and their pens. The story of the "King
and a poor Northern Man," 1640, also turns upon the tyranny of the
lawyers over ignorant clients.
The "Serving-man's Comfort," 1598, draws a somewhat gloomy picture
of the times. The prices of all provisions, among other points, had
trebled since the good old days, when his father and grandfather kept
house. Then people could buy an ox for 20s., a sheep for 3s., a calf
for 2s., a goose for 6d., a capon for 4d., a hen for 2d., a pig for
the same, and all other household provisions at a like rate. The
reason given by the farmer was that the landlords had raised their
rent. Let them have the land on the old terms, and the former prices
would pay. This plea and demand have come back home to us in 1886.
The tradition is, that when Queen Elizabeth received the intelligence
of the defeat of the Armada, she was dining off a goose--doubtless
about eleven o'clock in the morning. It was an anxious moment, and
perhaps her majesty for the moment had thrown ceremony somewhat aside,
and was "keeping secret house."
The author of the "Serving-man's Comfort," 1598, also laments the
decay of hospitality. "Where," he inquires "are the great chines
of stalled beef, the great, black jacks of double beer, the long
hall-tables fully furnished with good victuals?" But he seems to have
been a stickler for the solid fare most in vogue, according to his
complaint, formerly; and he represents to us that in lieu of it one
had to put up with goose-giblets, pigs' pettitoes, and so many other
boiled meats, forced meats, and made dishes. Things were hardly so
very bad, however, if, as he states previously, the curtailment of the
expenditure on the table still left, as a medium repast, two or three
dishes, with fruit and cheese after. The black jack here mentioned was
not discarded till comparatively modern days. Nares, who published his
Glossary in 1822, states that he recollects them in use.
"A meal's meat twice a week, worth a groat," is mentioned as the farm
servant's portion in "Civil and Uncivil Life," 1579. In "A Piece of
Friar Bacon's Brasen-heads Prophesie," a unique poem, 1604, we read
that at that time a cheesecake and a pie were held "good country
meat." The author adds:
"Ale and Spice, and Curdes and Creame,
Would make a Scholler make a Theame."
Breton, in his "Fantasticks," 1626, observes: "Milk, Butter and Cheese
are the labourers dyet; and a pot of good Beer quickens his spirits."
Norfolk dumplings were celebrated in John Day the playwright's time.
He has put into the mouth of his east-country yeoman's son, Tom
Strowd, in "The Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green," written long before
it was printed in 1659, the following:--"As God mend me, and ere
thou com'st into Norfolk, I'll give thee as good a dish of Norfolk
dumplings as ere thou laydst thy lips to;" and in another passage of
the same drama, where Swash's shirt has been stolen, while he is in
bed, he describes himself "as naked as your Norfolk dumplin." In
the play just quoted, Old Strowd, a Norfolk yeoman, speaks of his
contentment with good beef, Norfolk bread, and country home-brewed
drink; and in the "City Madam," 1658, Holdfast tells us that before
his master got an estate, "his family fed on roots and livers, and
necks of beef on Sundays." I cite these as traits of the kind of
table kept by the lower grades of English society in the seventeenth
century.
MEATS AND DRINKS.
Slender: You are afraid, if you see the bear loose, are you not?
Anne: Aye, indeed, Sir
Slender: That's meat and drink to me, now.
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR, i, 1.
The manufacture of wine and of fruit preserves, and many of the
processes of cookery, could have scarcely been accomplished without a
large and constant supply of sugar.
The exact date of the first introduction of the latter into England
continues to be a matter of uncertainty. It was clearly very scarce,
and doubtless equally dear, when, in 1226, Henry III. asked the Mayor
of Winchester to procure him three pounds of Alexandria sugar, if so
much could be got, and also some rose and violet-coloured sugar;
nor had it apparently grown much more plentiful when the same prince
ordered the sheriffs of London to send him four loaves of sugar to
Woodstock. But it soon made its way into the English homes, and before
the end of the thirteenth century it could be procured even in remote
provincial towns. It was sold either by the loaf or the pound. It was
still exorbitantly high in price, varying from eighteen pence to
three shillings a pound of coeval currency; and it was retailed by the
spice-dealers.
In Russell's "Book of Nurture," composed about 1450, it occurs as an
ingredient in hippocras; and one collects from a letter sent by Sir
Edward Wotton to Lord Cobham from Calais in 1546, that at that time
the quantities imported were larger, and the price reduced; for Wotton
advises his correspondent of a consignment of five-and-twenty loaves
at six shillings the loaf. One loaf was equal to ten pounds; this
brought the commodity down to eight pence a pound of fifteenth century
money.
The sugar of Cyprus was also highly esteemed; that of Bezi, in the
Straits of Sunda, was the most plentiful; but the West Indian
produce, as well as that of Mauritius, Madeira, and other cane-growing
countries, was unknown.
Of bread, the fifteenth century had several descriptions in use:
pain-main or bread of very fine flour, wheat-bread, barley-meal
bread, bran-bread, bean-bread, pease-bread, oat-bread or oat-cakes,
hard-bread, and unleavened bread. The poor often used a mixture
of rye, lentils, and oatmeal, varied according to the season and
district.
The author of "The Serving-man's Comfort," 1598, however, seems to say
that it was counted by the poorer sort at that time a hardship only to
be tolerated in a dear year to mix beans and peas with their corn,
and he adds: "So must I yield you a loaf of coarse cockle, having no
acquaintance with coin to buy corn."
In a _Nominale_ of this period mention is made of "oblys," or small
round loaves, perhaps like the old-fashioned "turnover"; and we come
across the explicit phrase, _a loaf of bread_, for the first time,
a pictorial vocabulary of the period even furnishing us with a
representation of its usual form.
Nor were the good folks of those days without their simnels,
cracknels, and other sorts of cakes for the table, among which in the
_wastel_ we recognise the equivalent of the modern French _gâteau_.
Besides march-pain or pain-main, and pain-puff, two sorts baked
on special occasions, and rather entering into the class of
confectionery, our better-to-do ancestors usually employed three
descriptions of bread: manchete for the master's table, made of fine
boulted flour; chete, of unboulted flour, but not mixed with any
coarser ingredient; and brown-bread, composed of flour and rye meal,
and known as _maslin_ (mystelon).
A bushel of wheat, in a romance of the thirteenth century, is
estimated to produce twenty loaves; but the statement is obviously
to be taken with allowance. The manchet was sometimes thought to be
sufficient without butter, as we now eat a scone. In the "Conceits of
Old Hobson," 1607, the worthy haberdasher of the Poultry gives some
friends what is facetiously described as a "light" banquet--a cup
of wine and a manchet of bread on a trencher for each guest, in an
apartment illuminated with five hundred candles.
There is no pictorial record of the mode in which the early baker
worked here, analogous to that which Lacroix supplies of his sixteenth
century _confrère_. The latter is brought vividly enough before us in
a copy of one of Jost Amman's engravings, and we perceive the bakery
and its tenants: one (apparently a female) kneading the dough in a
trough at the farther end, a second by a roasting fire, with a long
ladle or peel in his hand, putting the loaf on the oven, and a third,
who is a woman, leaving the place with two baskets of bread, one on
her head and one on her arm; the baker himself is almost naked, like
the operatives in a modern iron furnace. The artist has skilfully
realised the oppressive and enervating atmosphere; and it was till
lately quite usual to see in the side streets of Paris in the early
morning the _boulanger_ at work precisely in the same informal
costume. So tenacious is usage, and so unchanging many of the
conditions of life.
The Anglo-Norman used butter where his Italian contemporary used oil.
But it is doubtful whether before the Conquest our ancestors were
commonly acquainted with butter.
The early cook understood the art of glazing with yolk of egg, and
termed it endoring, and not less well that of presenting dishes under
names calculated to mislead the intended partaker, as where we find
a receipt given for _pome de oringe_, which turns out to be a
preparation of liver of pork with herbs and condiments, served up in
the form of glazed force-meat balls.
Venison was salted in troughs. In the tale of "The King and the
Hermit," the latter exhibits to his unknown visitor his stock of
preserved venison from the deer, which he had shot in the forest.
The mushroom, of which so many varieties are at present recognised
by botanists, seems, from the testimony of an Italian, Giacomo
Castelvetri, who was in London in 1614, and to whom I have already
referred, to have been scarcely known here at that time. I cannot
say, of course, how far Castelvetri may have prosecuted his inquiries,
though he certainly leaves the impression of having been intelligently
observant; or whether he includes in this observation the edible
toadstools; but even now much unreasonable prejudice exists as to the
latter, and very limited use is made of any but two or three familiar
sorts of the mushroom itself. It is a pity that this misconception
should not be dissipated.
Caviary had been brought into England, probably from Russia, at the
commencement of the seventeenth century, perhaps sooner. In 1618, "The
Court and Country," by Breton, seems to represent it as an article of
diet which was little known, and not much relished; for a great lady
had sent the writer's father a little barrel of it, and it was no
sooner opened than it was fastened down again, to be returned to the
donor with a respectful message that her servant had black soap enough
already.
In the time of James I. the ancient bill of fare had been shorn of
many of its coarser features, so far as fish was concerned; and
the author of "The Court and Country" tells a story to shew that
porpoise-pie was a dish which not even a dog would eat.
The times had indeed changed, since a King and a Cardinal-archbishop
judged this warm-blooded sea-dweller a fit dish for the most select
company.
It is not a despicable or very ascetic regimen which Stevenson lays
before us under April in his reproduction of Breton's "Fantasticks,"
1626, under the title of the "Twelve Months," 1661:--"The wholesome
dyet that breeds good sanguine juyce, such as pullets, capons, sucking
veal, beef not above three years Old, a draught of morning milk
fasting from the cow; grapes, raysons, and figs be good before meat;
Rice with Almond Milk, birds of the Field, Peasants and Partridges,
and fishes of stony rivers, Hen eggs potcht, and such like."
Under May he furnishes us with a second and not less appetising
_menu_:--
"Butter and sage are now the wholesome Breakfast, but fresh cheese and
cream are meat for a dainty mouth; the early Peascods and Strawberries
want no price with great Bellies; but the Chicken and the Duck are
fatted for the Market; the sucking Rabbet is frequently taken in the
Nest, and many a Gosling never lives to be a Goose."
Even so late as the succeeding reign, Breton speaks of the good cheer
at Christmas, and of the cook, if he lacks not wit, sweetly licking
his fingers.
The storage of liquids became a difficult problem where, as among our
ancestors, glazed pottery was long unknown; and more especially with
regard to the supply of water in dry seasons. But so far as milk was
concerned, the daily yield probably seldom exceeded the consumption;
and among the inhabitants further north and east, who, as Caesar says,
partook also of flesh, and did not sow grain--in other words, were
less vegetarian in their habits from the more exhausting nature of the
climate--the consideration might be less urgent. It is open to doubt
if, even in those primitive times, the supply of a national want
lagged far behind the demand.
The list of wines which the King of Hungary proposed to have at the
wedding of his daughter, in "The Squire of Low Degree," is worth
consulting. Harrison, in his "Description of England," 1586, speaks of
thirty different kinds of superior vintages and fifty-six of commoner
or weaker kinds. But the same wine was perhaps known under more than
one name.
Romney or Rumney, a Hungarian growth, Malmsey from the Peloponnesus,
and Hippocras were favourites, and the last-named was kept as late as
the last century in the buttery of St. John's College, Cambridge,
for use during the Christmas festivities. But France, Spain, Greece,
almost all countries, contributed to furnish the ancient wine-cellar,
and gratify the variety of taste among connoisseurs; and for such as
had not the means to purchase foreign productions, the juice of the
English grape, either alone or mingled with honey and spice, furnished
a not unpalatable and not very potent stimulant. As claret and hock
with us, so anciently Bastard and Piment were understood in a generic
sense, the former for any mixed wine, the latter for one seasoned with
spice.
In "Colin Blobol's Testament," a whimsical production of the fifteenth
century, Tent and Valencia wines are mentioned, with wine of Languedoc
and Orleans. But perhaps it will be best to cite the passage:--
"I trow there shall be an honest fellowship, save first shall they of
ale have new backbones. With strong ale brewed in vats and in tuns;
Ping, Drangollie, and the Draget fine, Mead, Mattebru, and the
Metheling. Red wine, the claret and the white, with Tent and Alicant,
in whom I delight. Wine of Languedoc and of Orleans thereto: Single
beer, and other that is double: Spruce beer, and the beer of Hamburgh:
Malmsey, Tires, and Romany."
But some of the varieties are hidden under obscure names. We recognise
Muscadel, Rhine wine, Bastard, Hippocras, however. On the 10th of
December, 1497, Piers Barber received six shillings and eight pence,
according to the "Privy Purse Expences of Henry VII.," "for spice for
ypocras."
Metheglin and beer of some kind appear to be the most ancient liquors
of which there are any vestiges among the Britons. Ferguson, in his
Essay "On the Formation of the Palate," states that they are described
by a Greek traveller, who visited the south of Britain in the fourth
century B.C. This informant describes metheglin as composed of wheat
and honey (of course mixed with water), and the beer as being of
sufficient strength to injure the nerves and cause head-ache.
Worlidge, in his "Vinetum Britannicum," 1676, gives us receipts for
metheglin and birch wine. Breton, in his "Fantasticks," 1626, under
January, recommends a draught of ale and wormwood wine mixed in
a morning to comfort the heart, scour the maw, and fulfil other
beneficial offices.
The English beer of by-gone times underwent many vicissitudes, and it
was long before our ancestors conquered their dislike to the bitter
hop, after having been accustomed to a thick, sweet liquor of which
the modern Kentish ale is in some measure a survival. Beer was made
from a variety of grain; oats were most commonly employed. In France,
they resorted even to vetches, lentils, rye, and darnel. But as a rule
it was a poor, thin drink which resulted from the operation, and the
monks of Glastonbury deemed themselves fortunate in being allowed by
their abbot to put a load of oats into the vat to improve the quality
of the beverage; which may account for Peter of Blois characterising
the ale in use at Court in his day (he died about the end of the
twelfth century) as potent--it was by contrast so. The first assize of
ale seems not to have been enacted till the reign of Henry III.
From a glossary of the fourteenth century, inserted in "Reliquse
Antique," 1841, it appears that whey was then used as a drink; it
occurs there as "cerum, i, quidam liquor, whey."
THE KITCHEN.
In direct connection with cookery as with horticulture, are the
utensils and appliances which were at the command of those who had to
do with these matters in days of yore; and in both cases an inquirer
finds that he has to turn from the vain search for actual specimens
belonging to remoter antiquity to casual representations or
descriptions in MSS. and printed books. Our own museums appear to be
very weakly furnished with examples of the vessels and implements in
common use for culinary purposes in ancient times, and, judging from
the comparatively limited information which we get upon this subject
from the pages of Lacroix, the paucity of material is not confined to
ourselves. The destruction and disappearance of such humble monuments
of the civilisation of the past are easily explained; and the survival
of a slender salvage is to be treated as a circumstance not less
remarkable than fortunate.
It seems that the practice was to cut up, if not to slaughter,
the animals used for food in the kitchen, and to prepare the whole
carcase, some parts in one way and some in another. We incidentally
collect from an ancient tale that the hearts of swine were much prized
as dainties.
Besides a general notion of the appointments of the cooking
department, we are enabled to form some conception of the aspect
of the early kitchen itself from extant representations in the
"Archaeological Album," the "Penny Magazine" for 1836, and Lacroix
[Footnote: "Moeurs, Usages et Costumes au Moyen Age," 1872, pp 166,
170, 177]. The last-named authority furnishes us with two interesting
sixteenth century interiors from Jost Amman, and (from the same
source) a portraiture of the cook of that period.
The costume of the subject is not only exhibited, doubtless with the
fidelity characteristic of the artist, but is quite equally applicable
to France, if not to our own country, and likewise to a much earlier
date. The evidences of the same class supplied by the "Archaeological
Album," 1845, are drawn from the MS. in the British Museum,
formerly belonging to the Abbey of St. Albans. They consist of two
illustrations--one of Master Robert, cook to the abbey, as elsewhere
noticed, accompanied by his wife--unique relic of its kind; the other
a view of a small apartment with dressers and shelves, and with plates
and accessories hung round, in which a cook, perhaps the identical
Master Robert aforesaid, is plucking a bird. The fireplace is in
the background, and the iron vessel which is to receive the fowl,
or whatever it may really be, is suspended over the flame by a long
chain. The perspective is rather faulty, and the details are not very
copious; but for so early a period as the thirteenth or early part of
the following century its value is undeniable.
The "Penny Magazine" presents us with a remarkable exterior, that of
the venerable kitchen of Stanton-Harcourt, near Oxford, twenty-nine
feet square and sixty feet in height. There are two large fireplaces,
facing each other, but no chimney, the smoke issuing atthe holes, each
about seven inches in diameter, which run round the roof. As Lamb
said of his Essays, that they were all Preface, so this kitchen is
all chimney. It is stated that the kitchen at Glastonbury Abbey was
constructed on the same model; and both are probably older than the
reign of Henry IV. The one to which I am more immediately referring,
though, at the time (1835) the drawing was taken, in an excellent
state of preservation, had evidently undergone repairs and structural
changes.
It was at Stanton-Harcourt that Pope wrote a portion of his
translation of Homer, about 1718.
A manufactory of brass cooking utensils was established at Wandsworth
in or before Aubrey's time by Dutchmen, who kept the art secret.
Lysons states that the place where the industry was carried on bore
the name of the "Frying Pan Houses" [Footnote: A "Environs of London,"
1st ed., Surrey, pp. 502-3].
In the North of England, the _bake-stone_, originally of the material
to which it owed its name, but at a very early date constructed of
iron, with the old appellations retained as usual, was the universal
machinery for baking, and was placed on the _Branderi_, an iron frame
which was fixed on the top of the fireplace, and consisted of
iron bars, with a sliding or slott bar, to shift according to the
circumstances.
The tripod which held the cooking-vessel over the wood flame, among
the former inhabitants of Britain, has not been entirely effaced. It
is yet to be seen here and there in out-of-the-way corners and
places; and in India they use one constructed of clay, and differently
contrived. The most primitive pots for setting over the fire on the
tripod were probably of bronze.
The tripod seems to be substantially identical with what was known in
Nidderdale as the kail-pot. "This was formerly in common use," says
Mr. Lucas; "a round iron pan, about ten inches deep and eighteen
inches across, with a tight-fitting, convex lid. It was provided with
three legs. The kail-pot, as it was called, was used for cooking
pies, and was buried bodily in burning peat. As the lower peats became
red-hot, they drew them from underneath, and placed them on the top.
The kail-pot may still be seen on a few farms." This was about 1870.
The writer is doubtless correct in supposing that this utensil was
originally employed for cooking kail or cabbage and other green stuff.
Three rods of iron or hard wood lashed together, with a hook for
taking the handle of the kettle, formed, no doubt, the original
tripod. But among some of the tribes of the North of Europe, and
in certain Tartar, Indian, and other communities, we see no such
rudimentary substitute for a grate, but merely two uprights and a
horizontal rest, supporting a chain; and in the illustration to
the thirteenth or fourteenth century MS., once part of the abbatial
library at St. Albans, a nearer approach to the modern jack is
apparent in the suspension of the vessel over the flame by a chain
attached to the centre of a fireplace.
Not the tripod, therefore, but the other type must be thought to have
been the germ of the later-day apparatus, which yielded in its turn to
the Range.
The fireplace with a ring in the middle, from which is suspended the
pot, is represented in a French sculpture of the end of the fourteenth
century, where two women are seated on either side, engaged in
conversation. One holds a ladle, and the other an implement which may
be meant for a pair of bellows.
In his treatise on Kitchen Utensils, Neckam commences with naming a
table, on which the cook may cut up green stuff of various sorts, as
onions, peas, beans, lentils, and pulse; and he proceeds to enumerate
the tools and implements which are required to carry on the work:
pots, tripods for the kettle, trenchers, pestles, mortars, hatchets,
hooks, saucepans, cauldrons, pails, gridirons, knives, and so on.
The head-cook was to have a little apartment, where he could prepare
condiments and dressings; and a sink was to be provided for the
viscera and other offal of poultry. Fish was cooked in salt water or
diluted wine.
Pepper and salt were freely used, and the former must have been ground
as it was wanted, for a pepper-mill is named as a requisite. Mustard
we do not encounter till the time of Johannes de Garlandia (early
thirteenth century), who states that it grew in his own garden at
Paris. Garlic, or gar-leac (in the same way as the onion is called
_yn-leac_), had established itself as a flavouring medium. The
nasturtium was also taken into service in the tenth or eleventh
century for the same purpose, and is classed with herbs.
When the dish was ready, it was served up with green sauce, in which
the chief ingredients were sage, parsley, pepper, and oil, with a
little salt. Green geese were eaten with raisin or crab-apple sauce.
Poultry was to be well larded or basted while it was before the fire.
I may be allowed to refer the reader, for some interesting jottings
respecting the first introduction of coal into London, to "Our English
Home," 1861. "The middle classes," says the anonymous writer, "were
the first to appreciate its value; but the nobility, whose mansions
were in the pleasant suburbs of Holborn and the Strand, regarded it as
a nuisance." This was about the middle of the thirteenth century. It
may be a mite contributed to our knowledge of early household economy
to mention, by the way, that in the supernatural tale of the "Smith
and his Dame" (sixteenth century) "a quarter of coal" occurs. The
smith lays it on the fire all at once; but then it was for his forge.
He also poured water on the flames, to make them, by means of his
bellows, blaze more fiercely. But the proportion of coal to wood
was long probably very small. One of the tenants of the Abbey of
Peterborough, in 852, was obliged to furnish forty loads of wood, but
of coal two only.
In the time of Charles I., however, coals seem to have been usual
in the kitchen, for Breton, in this "Fantasticks," 1626, says, under
January:--"The Maid is stirring betimes, and slipping on her Shooes
and her Petticoat, groaps for the tinder box, where after a conflict
between the steele and the stone, she begets a spark, at last the
Candle lights on his Match; then upon an old rotten foundation of
broaken boards she erects an artificiall fabrick of the black Bowels
of New-Castle soyle, to which she sets fire with as much confidence as
the Romans to their Funerall Pyles."
Under July, in the same work, we hear of "a chafing dish of coals;"
and under September, wood and coals are mentioned together. But
doubtless the employment of the latter was far less general.
In a paper read before the Royal Society, June 9, 1796, there is an
account of a saucepan discovered in the bed of the river Withain, near
Tattersall Ferry, in Lincolnshire, in 1788. It was of base metal, and
was grooved at the bottom, to allow the contents more readily to
come within reach of the fire. The writer of this narrative, which
is printed in the "Philosophical Transactions," considered that the
vessel might be of Roman workman-ship; as he states that on the handle
was stamped a name, C. ARAT., which he interprets _Caius Aratus_. "It
appears," he adds, "to have been tinned; but almost all the coating
had been worn off.... The art of tinning copper was understood and
practised by the Romans, although it is commonly supposed to be a
modern invention."
Neckam mentions the roasting-spit, elsewhere called the roasting-iron;
but I fail to detect skewers, though they can hardly have been
wanting. Ladles for basting and stirring were familiar. As to the spit
itself, it became a showy article of plate, when the fashion arose
of serving up the meat upon it in the hall; and the tenure by which
Finchingfield in Essex was held _in capite_ in the reign of Edward
III.--that of turning the spit at the coronation--demonstrates that
the instrument was of sufficient standing to be taken into service as
a memorial formality.
The fifteenth century vocabulary notices the salt-cellar, the spoon,
the trencher, and the table-cloth. The catalogue comprises _morsus,
a bit_, which shows that _bit_ and _bite_ are synonymous, or rather,
that the latter is the true word as still used in Scotland, Yorkshire,
and Lincolnshire, from the last of which the Pilgrims carried it
across the Atlantic, where it is a current Americanism, not for
one bite, but as many as you please, which is, in fact, the modern
provincial interpretation of the phrase, but not the antique English
one. The word _towel_ was indifferently applied, perhaps, for a
cloth for use at the table or in the lavatory. Yet there was also the
_manuturgium_, or hand-cloth, a speciality rendered imperative by the
mediaeval fashion of eating.
In the inventory of the linen at Gilling, in Yorkshire, one of the
seats of the Fairfax family, made in 1590, occur:--"Item, napkins vj.
dozen. Item, new napkins vj. dozen." This entry may or may not warrant
a conclusion that the family bought that quantity at a time--not a
very excessive store, considering the untidy habits of eating and the
difficulty of making new purchases at short notice.
Another mark of refinement is the resort to the _napron_, corruptly
_apron_, to protect the dress during the performance of kitchen work.
But the fifteenth century was evidently growing wealthier in its
articles of use and luxury; the garden and the kitchen only kept pace
with the bed-chamber and the dining-hall, the dairy and the laundry,
the stable and the out-buildings. An extensive nomenclature was
steadily growing up, and the Latin, old French, and Saxon terms were
giving way on all sides to the English. It has been now for some time
an allowed and understood thing that in these domestic backgrounds the
growth of our country and the minuter traits of private life are to be
studied with most clear and usurious profit.
The trencher, at first of bread, then of wood, after a while of
pewter, and eventually of pottery, porcelain or china-earth, as it was
called, and the precious metals, afforded abundant scope for the fancy
of the artist, even in the remote days when the material for it came
from the timber-dealer, and sets of twelve were sometimes decorated
on the face with subjects taken from real life, and on the back with
emblems of the purpose to which they were destined.
Puttenham, whose "Art of English Poetry" lay in MS. some years before
it was published in 1589, speaks of the posies on trenchers and
banqueting dishes. The author of "Our English Home" alludes to a very
curious set, painted in subjects and belonging to the reign of James
I., which was exhibited at the Society of Antiquaries' rooms by
Colonel Sykes.
It is to be augured that, with the progress of refinement, the meats
were served upon the table on dishes instead of trenchers, and that
the latter were reserved for use by the guests of the family. For
in the "Serving-man's Comfort," 1598, one reads:--"Even so the
gentlemanly serving-man, whose life and manners doth equal his birth
and bringing up, scorneth the society of these sots, or to place
a dish where they give a trencher"; and speaking of the passion of
people for raising themselves above their extraction, the writer, a
little farther on, observes: "For the yeoman's son, as I said before,
leaving _gee haigh!_ for, _Butler, some more fair trenchers to the
table!_ bringeth these ensuing ulcers amongst the members of the
common body."
The employment of trenchers, which originated in the manner which I
have shown, introduced the custom of the distribution at table of
the two sexes, and the fashion of placing a lady and gentleman
alternately. In former days it was frequently usual for a couple thus
seated together to eat from one trencher, more particularly if the
relations between them were of an intimate nature, or, again, if it
were the master and mistress of the establishment. Walpole relates
that so late as the middle of the last century the old Duke and
Duchess of Hamilton occupied the dais at the head of the room, and
preserved the traditional manner by sharing the same plate. It was a
token of attachment and a tender recollection of unreturnable youth.
The prejudice against the fork in England remained very steadfast
actual centuries after its first introduction; forks are
particularised among the treasures of kings, as if they had been crown
jewels, in the same manner as the _iron_ spits, pots, and frying-pans
of his Majesty Edward III.; and even so late as the seventeeth
century, Coryat, who employed one after his visit to Italy, was
nicknamed "Furcifer." The two-pronged implement long outlived Coryat;
and it is to be seen in cutlers' signs even down to our day. The old
dessert set, curiously enough, instead of consisting of knives and
forks in equal proportions, contained eleven knives and one fork for
_ginger_. Both the fork and spoon were frequently made with handles of
glass or crystal, like those of mother-of-pearl at present in vogue.
In a tract coeval with Coryat the Fork-bearer, Breton's "Court and
Country," 1618, there is a passage very relevant to this part of the
theme:--"For us in the country," says he, "when we have washed our
hands after no foul work, nor handling any unwholesome thing, we need
no little forks to make hay with our mouths, to throw our meat into
them."
Forks, though not employed by the community, became part of the
effects of royal and great personages, and in the inventory of Charles
V. of France appear the spoon, knife, and fork. In another of the Duke
of Burgundy, sixty years later (1420), knives and other implements
occur, but no fork. The cutlery is described here as of German make.
Brathwaite, in his "Rules for the Government of the House of an Earl,"
probably written about 1617, mentions knives and spoons, but not
forks.
As the fork grew out of the chopstick, the spoon was probably
suggested by the ladle, a form of implement employed alike by the
baker and the cook; for the early tool which we see in the hands of
the operative in the oven more nearly resembles in the bowl a spoon
than a shovel. In India nowadays they have ladles, but not spoons.
The universality of broths and semi-liquid substances, as well as the
commencement of a taste for learned gravies, prompted a recourse to
new expedients for communicating between the platter and the mouth;
and some person of genius saw how the difficulty might be solved by
adapting the ladle to individual service. But every religion has its
quota of dissent, and there were, nay, are still, many who professed
adherence to the sturdy simplicity of their progenitors, and saw
in this daring reform and the fallow blade of the knife a certain
effeminate prodigality.
It is significant of the drift of recent years toward the monograph,
that, in 1846, Mr. Westman published "The Spoon: Primitive, Egyptian,
Roman, Mediaeval and Modern," with one hundred illustrations, in an
octavo volume.
The luxury of carving-knives was, even in the closing years of the
fifteenth century, reserved for royalty and nobility; for in the
"Privy Purse Expenses of Henry VII.," under 1497, a pair is said to
have cost £1 6s. 8d. of money of that day. Nothing is said of forks.
But in the same account, under February 1st, 1500-1, one Mistress
Brent receives 12s. (and a book, which cost the king 5s. more) for a
silver fork weighing three ounces. In Newbery's "Dives Pragmaticus,"
1563, a unique poetical volume in the library at Althorpe, there is a
catalogue of cooking utensils which, considering its completeness, is
worth quotation; the author speaks in the character of a chapman--one
forestalling Autolycus:--
"I have basins, ewers, of tin, pewter and glass.
Great vessels of copper, fine latten and brass:
Both pots, pans and kettles, such as never was.
I have platters, dishes, saucers and candle-sticks,
Chafers, lavers, towels and fine tricks:
Posnets, frying-pans, and fine puddingpricks ...
Fine pans for milk, and trim tubs for sowse.
I have ladles, scummers, andirons and spits,
Dripping-pans, pot-hooks....
I have fire-pans, fire-forks, tongs, trivets, and trammels,
Roast-irons, trays, flaskets, mortars and pestles...."
And among other items he adds rollers for paste, moulds for cooks,
fine cutting knives, fine wine glasses, soap, fine salt, and candles.
The list is the next best thing to an auctioneer's inventory of an
Elizabethan kitchen, to the fittings of Shakespeare's, or rather
of his father's. A good idea of the character and resources of a
nobleman's or wealthy gentleman's kitchen at the end of the sixteenth
and commencement of the seventeenth century may be formed from the
Fairfax inventories (1594-1624), lately edited by Mr. Peacock. I
propose to annex a catalogue of the utensils which there present
themselves:--
The furnace pan for beef.
The beef kettle.
Great and small kettles.
Brass kettles, holding from sixteen to twenty gallons each.
Little kettles with bowed or carved handles.
Copper pans with ears.
Great brass pots.
Dripping-pans.
An iron peel or baking shovel.
A brazen mortar and a pestle.
Gridirons.
Iron ladles.
A laten scummer.
A grater.
A pepper mill.
A mustard-quern.
Boards.
A salt-box.
An iron range.
Iron racks.
A tin pot.
Pot hooks.
A galley bawk to suspend the kettle or pot over the fire.
Spits, square and round, and various sizes.
Bearers.
Crooks.
In the larders (wet and dry) and pastry were:--
Moulding boards for pastry.
A boulting tub for meal.
A little table.
A spice cupboard.
A chest for oatmeal.
A trough.
Hanging and other shelves.
Here follows the return of pewter, brass, and other vessels belonging
to the kitchen:--
Pewter dishes of nine sizes (from Newcastle).
Long dishes for rabbits. }
Saucers. }
Chargers. } Silver fashioned.
Pie plates. }
Voider. }
A beef-prick.
Fire shoves and tongs.
A brig (a sort of brandreth).
A cullender.
A pewter baking-pan.
Kettles of brass.
A skillet.
A brandeth.
A shredding knife.
A chopping knife.
An apple cradle.
A pair of irons to make wafers with.
A brass pot-lid.
Beef-axes and knives. }
Slaughter ropes. } For Slaughtering.
Beef stangs. }
In the beef-house was an assortment of tubs, casks, and hogsheads.
Table knives, forks, spoons, and drinking-vessels presumably belonged
to another department.
The dripping-pan is noticed in Breton's "Fantasticks," 1626: "Dishes
and trenchers are necessary servants, and they that have no meat
may go scrape; a Spit and a Dripping-pan would do well, if well
furnished." Flecknoe, again, in his character of a "Miserable old
Gentlewoman," inserted among his "Enigmatical Characters," 1658,
speaks of her letting her prayer-book fall into the dripping-pan, and
the dog and the cat quarrelling over it, and at last agreeing to pray
on it!
But this is a branch of the subject I cannot afford further to
penetrate. Yet I must say a word about the polished maple-wood bowl,
or _maser_, with its mottoes and quaint devices, which figured on the
side-board of the yeoman and the franklin, and which Chaucer must have
often seen in their homes. Like everything else which becomes popular,
it was copied in the precious metals, with costly and elaborate
goldsmith's work; but its interest for us is local, and does not lend
itself to change of material and neighbourhood. The habits of the poor
and middle classes are apt to awaken a keener curiosity in our minds
from the comparatively slender information which has come to us upon
them; and as in the case of the maser, the laver which was employed in
humble circles for washing the hands before and after a meal was, not
of gold or silver, as in the houses of the nobility, but of brass
or laten, nor was it in either instance a ceremonious form, but a
necessary process. The modern finger-glass and rose-water dish, which
are an incidence of every entertainment of pretension, and in higher
society as much a parcel of the dinner-table as knives and forks, are,
from a mediaeval standpoint, luxurious anachronisms.
In Archbishop Alfric's "Colloquy," originally written in the tenth
century, and subsequently augmented and enriched with a Saxon gloss
by one of his pupils, the cook is one of the persons introduced
and interrogated. He is asked what his profession is worth to the
community; and he replies that without him people would have to eat
their greens and flesh raw; whereupon it is rejoined that they might
readily dress them themselves; to which the cook can only answer, that
in such case all men would be reduced to the position of servants.
The kitchen had its _chef_ or master-cook (archimacherus),
under-cooks, a waferer or maker of sweets, a scullion or swiller
(who is otherwise described as a _quistron_), and knaves, or boys
for preparing the meat; and all these had their special functions and
implements.
Even in the fifteenth century the appliances for cookery were
evidently far more numerous than they had been. An illustrated
vocabulary portrays, among other items, the dressing-board, the
dressing-knife, the roasting-iron, the frying-pan, the spit-turner (in
lieu of the old turn-broach), the andiron, the ladle, the slice, the
skummer; and the _assitabulum_, or saucer, first presents itself.
It seems as if the butler and the pantler had their own separate
quarters; and the different species of wine, and the vessels for
holding it, are not forgotten. The archaic pantry was dedicated, not
to its later objects, but to that which the name strictly signifies;
but at the same time the writer warrants us in concluding, that the
pantry accommodated certain miscellaneous utensils, as he comprises
in its contents a candlestick, a table or board-cloth, a hand-cloth or
napkin, a drinking bowl, a saucer, and a spoon. The kitchen, in short,
comprised within its boundaries a far larger variety of domestic
requisites of all kinds than its modern representative, which deals
with an external machinery so totally changed. The ancient Court of
England was so differently constituted from the present, and so
many offices which sprang out of the feudal system have fallen
into desuetude, that it requires a considerable effort to imagine a
condition of things, where the master-cook of our lord the king was
a personage of high rank and extended possessions. How early the
functions of cook and the property attached to the position were
separated, and the tenure of the land made dependent on a nominal
ceremony, is not quite clear. Warner thinks that it was in the
Conqueror's time; but at any rate, in that of Henry II. the husband
of the heiress of Bartholomew de Cheney held his land in Addington,
Surrey, by the serjeantry of finding a cook to dress the victuals at
the coronation; the custom was kept up at least so late as the reign
of George III., to whom at his coronation the lord of the manor of
Addington presented a dish of pottage. The tenure was varied in its
details from time to time. But for my purpose it is sufficient that
manorial rights were acquired by the _magnus coquus_ or _magister
coquorum_ in the same way as by the grand butler and other officers of
state; and when so large a share of the splendour of royalty
continued for centuries to emanate from the kitchen, it was scarcely
inappropriate or unfair to confer on that department of state some
titular distinction, and endow the holder with substantial honours. To
the Grand Chamberlain and the Grand Butler the Grand Cook was a meet
appendage.
The primary object of these feudal endowments was the establishment
of a cordon round the throne of powerful subjects under conditions
and titles which to ourselves may appear incongruous and obscure,
but which were in tolerable keeping with the financial and commercial
organisation of the period, with a restricted currency, a revenue
chiefly payable in kind, scanty facilities for transit, and an absence
of trading centres. These steward-ships, butler-ships, and cook-ships,
in the hands of the most trusted vassals of the Crown, constituted a
rudimentary vehicle for in-gathering the dues of all kinds renderable
by the king's tenants; and as an administrative scheme gradually
unfolded itself, they became titular and honorary, like our own
reduced menagerie of nondescripts. But while they lasted in their
substance and reality, they answered the wants and notions of a
primitive people; nor is it for this practical age to lift up its
hands or its voice too high; for mediaeval England is still legible
without much excavation in our Court, our Church, nay, in our Laws.
There lurk our cunning spoilers!
Mr. Fairholt, in the "Archaeological Album," 1845, has depicted for
our benefit the _chef_ of the Abbey of St. Albans in the fourteenth
century, and his wife Helena The representations of these two notable
personages occur in a MS. in the British Museum, which formerly
belonged to the Abbey, and contains a list of its benefactors, with
their gifts. It does not appear that Master Robert, cook to Abbot
Thomas, was the donor of any land or money; but, in consideration of
his long and faithful services, his soul was to be prayed for with
that of his widow, who bestowed 3s. 4d. _ad opus hujus libri_, which
Fairholt supposes to refer to the insertion of her portrait and that
of her spouse among the graphic decorations of the volume. They are
perhaps in their way unique. Behold them opposite!
Another point in reference to the early economy of the table, which
should not be overlooked, is the character of the ancient buttery, and
the quick transition which its functionary, the butler, experienced
from the performance of special to that of general duties.
He at a very remote period acted not merely as the curator of the
wine-cellar, but as the domestic steward and storekeeper; and it was
his business to provide for the requirements of the kitchen and the
pantry, and to see that no opportunity was neglected of supplying,
from the nearest port, or market town, or fair, if his employer
resided in the country, all the necessaries for the departments under
his control. We are apt to regard the modern bearer of the same title
as more catholic in his employments than the appellation suggests;
but he in fact wields, on the contrary, a very circumscribed authority
compared to that of his feudal prototype.
One of the menial offices in the kitchen, when the spit came into
use, was the broach-turner, lately referred to. He was by no means
invariably maintained on the staff, but was hired for the occasion,
which may augur the general preference for boiled and fried meats.
Sometimes it appears that any lad passing by, or in want of temporary
employment, was admitted for this purpose, and had a trifling
gratuity, or perhaps only his dinner and the privilege of dipping his
fingers in the dripping, for his pains.
Warner cites an entry in some accounts of the Hospital of St.
Bartholomew at Sandwich, under 1569:--"For tournynge the spytte,
iiijd." and this was when the mayor of the borough dined with the
prior. A royal personage gave, of course, more. The play of "Gammer
Gurton's Needle," written about 1560, opens with a speech of Diccon
the Bedlam, or poor Tom, where he says:--
"Many a gossip's cup in my time have I tasted,
And many a broach and spit have I both turned and basted."
The spit, again, was supplanted by the jack.
The "History of Friar Rush," 1620, opens with a scene in which
the hero introduces himself to a monastery, and is sent by the
unsuspecting prior to the master-cook, who finds him subordinate
employment.
MEALS.
It has been noted that for a great length of time two meals were made
to suffice the requirements of all classes. Our own experience shows
how immaterial the names are which people from age to age choose to
bestow on their feeding intervals. Some call supper _dinner_, and
others call dinner _luncheon._ First comes the prevailing mode
instituted by fashionable society, and then a foolish subscription to
it by a section of the community who are too poor to follow it, and
too proud not to seem to do so. Formerly it was usual for the Great
to dine and sup earlier than the Little; but now the rule is reversed,
and the later a man dines the more distinguished he argues himself.
We have multiplied our daily seasons of refreshment, and eat and drink
far oftener than our ancestors; but the truly genteel Briton never
sups; the word is scarcely in his vocabulary,--like Beau Brummel and
the farthing--"Fellow, I do not know the coin!"
In a glossary of the tenth-eleventh century only two meals are quoted:
undermeat = _prandium_, and even-meat = _coena_. That is to say, our
Saxon precursors were satisfied as a rule with two repasts daily, but
to this in more luxurious times were added the supper and even the
rear-supper, the latter being, so far as we know, a second course or
dessert and the bipartite collation corresponding to the modern late
dinner. But it is one of those strange survivals of ancient manners
which people practise without any consciousness of the fact, which
is at the root of the fashion, which still occasionally prevails,
of dividing the chief meal of the day by an interval of repose, and
taking the wine and dessert an hour or two after the other courses;
and the usage in our colleges and inns of court of retiring to another
apartment to "wine" may claim the same origin. It is obvious that the
rear-supper was susceptible of becoming the most important and costly
part of an entertainment; and that it frequently assumed extravagant
proportions, many passages from our early poets might be adduced to
prove.
In the "Book of Cookery," 1500, we have the _menu_ at the installation
of Archbishop Nevill in York in 1467; but the bill of fare of a
feast given by him in 1452 at Oxford, where he is mentioned as Master
Nevill, son of the Earl of Salisbury, is inserted from the Cotton MS.
Titus, in "Reliquiae Antiquae," 1841. It consisted of three courses,
which seem to have been the customary limit. Of course, however, the
usage varied, as in the "Song of the Boar's Head," of which there are
two or three versions, two courses only are specified in what has the
air of having been a rather sumptuous entertainment.
The old low-Latin term for the noonday meal was _merenda_, which
suggests the idea of food to be earned before it was enjoyed. So in
"Friar Bacon's Prophesie," 1604, a poem, it is declared that, in the
good old days, he that wrought not, till he sweated, was held
unworthy of his meat. This reminds one of Abernethy's maxim for the
preservation of health,--to live on sixpence a day, _and earn it_.
The "Song of the Boar's Head," just cited, and printed from the
Porkington MS. in "Reliquiae Antiquae" (ii, 30), refers to larks for
ladies to pick as part of the second course in a banquet. On special
occasions, in the middle ages, after the dessert, hippocras was
served, as they have liqueurs to this day on the Continent both after
dinner and after the mid-day breakfast.
The writer of "Piers of Fulham" lived to see this fashion of
introducing a third meal, and that again split into two for
luxury's sake; for his metrical biographer tells us, that he refused
rear-suppers, from a fear of surfeiting.
I collect that in the time of Henry VIII. the supper was a
well-established institution, and that the abuse of postponing it to
a too advanced hour had crept in; for the writer of a poem of this
period especially counsels his readers _not to sup late_.
Rear-suppers were not only held in private establishments, but in
taverns; and in the early interlude of the "Four Elements," given in
my edition of Dodsley, and originally published about 1519, a very
graphic and edifying scene occurs of a party of roisterers ordering
and enjoying an entertainment of this kind. About seventy years later,
Robert Greene, the playwright, fell a victim to a surfeit of pickled
herrings and Rhenish wine, at some merry gathering of his intimates
falling under this denomination. Who will venture to deny that the
first person who kept unreasonable hours was an author and a poet?
Even Shakespeare is not exempt from the suspicion of having hastened
his end by indulgence with one or two friends in a gay carouse of this
kind.
The author of the "Description of England" enlightens us somewhat on
the sort of kitchen which the middle class and yeomanry of his time
deemed fit and sufficient. The merchant or private gentleman had
usually from one to three dishes on the table when there were no
visitors, and from four to six when there was company. What the
yeoman's every-day diet was Harrison does not express; but at
Christmas he had brawn, pudding and souse, with mustard; beef, mutton,
and pork; shred pies, goose, pig, capon, turkey, veal, cheese, apples,
etc., with good drink, and a blazing fire in the hall. The farmer's
bill of fare varied according to the season: in Lent, red herrings and
salt fish; at Easter, veal and bacon; at Martinmas, salted beef; at
Midsummer, fresh beef, peas, and salad; at Michaelmas, fresh herrings
and fat mutton; at All Saints', pork and peas and fish; and at
Christmas, the same dainties as our yeoman, with good cheer and
pastime.
The modern luncheon or nuncheon was the archaic _prandium_, or
under-meat, displaced by the breakfast, and modified in its character
by the different distribution of the daily repasts, so that, instead
of being the earliest regular meal, like the _grand déjeuner_ of the
French, or coming, like our luncheon, between breakfast and dinner, it
interposed itself between the noontide dinner and the evening supper.
Now, with an increasing proportion of the community, the universal
luncheon, postponed to a later hour, is the actual dinner; and our
under-meal is the afternoon tea.
In those not-wholly-to-be-discommended days, the residue of the meal
was consumed in the servants' hall, and the scraps bestowed on the
poor at the gate; and the last part of the business was carried out,
not as a matter of chance or caprice, but on as methodical a principle
as the payment of a poor-rate. At the servants' table, besides the
waiters and other attendants on the principal board, mentioned by
Harrison, sat the master-cook, the pantler, the steward or major-domo,
the butler, the cellarman, the waferer, and others. It was not till
comparatively recent times that the _wafery_, a special department of
the royal kitchen, where the confectionery and pastry were prepared,
was discontinued.
There was necessarily a very large section of the community in all
the large towns, especially in London, which was destitute of culinary
appliances, and at the same time of any charitable or eleemosynary
privileges. A multitude of persons, of both sexes and all ages,
gradually developed itself, having no feudal ties, but attached to an
endless variety of more or less humble employments.
How did all these men, women, boys, girls, get their daily food? The
answer is, in the public eating-houses. Fitzstephen tells us that
in the reign of Henry II. (1154-89), besides the wine-vaults and the
shops which sold liquors, there was on the banks of the river a public
eating-house or cook's-shop, where, according to the time of year, you
could get every kind of victuals, roasted, boiled, baked, or fried;
and even, says he, if a friend should arrive at a citizen's house, and
not care to wait, they go to the shop, where there were viands always
kept ready to suit every purse and palate, even including venison,
sturgeon, and Guinea-fowls. For all classes frequented the City; and
before Bardolph's day noblemen and gentlemen came to Smithfield to buy
their horses, as they did to the waterside near the Tower to embark
for a voyage.
One of the characters in the "Canterbury Tales"--the Cook of
London--was, in fact the keeper of a cook's-shop; and in the Prologue
to the Tale, with which his name is associated, the charming story of
"Gamelin," the poet makes the Reeve charge his companion with not very
creditable behaviour towards his customers. So our host trusts that
his relation will be entertaining and good:--
"For many a pasty hast thou let blood,
And many a Jack of Dover[1] hast thou sold,
That hath been twice hot and twice cold.
Of many a pilgrim hast thou Christ's curse--
For thy parsley fare they yet the worse:
That they have eaten with the stubble goose,
For in thy shop is many a fly loose."
[Footnote 1: A sole]
But these restaurants were not long confined to one locality. From a
very early date, owing perhaps to its proximity to the Tower and the
Thames, East Cheap was famed for its houses of entertainment. The
Dagger in Cheap is mentioned in "A Hundred Merry Tales," 1526. The
Boar is historical. It was naturally at the East-end, in London
proper, that the flood-tide, as it were, of tavern life set in, among
the seafarers, in the heart of industrial activity; and the anecdotes
and glimpses which we enjoy show, just what might have been guessed,
that these houses often became scenes of riotous excess and debauch.
Lydgate's ballad of "London Lickpenny" helps one to imagine what such
resorts must have been in the first part of the fifteenth century. It
is almost permissible to infer that the street contained, in addition
to the regular inns, an assortment of open counters, where the
commodities on sale were cried aloud for the benefit of the passer-by;
for he says:--
"When I hied me into East Cheap:
One cries ribs of beef, and many a pie:
Pewter pots they clattered on a heap;
There was harp, fife, and sautry."
The mention of pewter is noteworthy, because the Earl of
Northumberland ate his dinner off wood in 1572. Pewter plates had not
long been given up when I joined the Inner Temple in 1861.
There is a still more interesting allusion in the interlude of the
"World and the Child," 1522, where Folly is made to say:--
"Yea, and we shall be right welcome, I dare well say,
In East Cheap for to dine;
And then we will with Lombards at passage play,
And at the Pope's Head sweet wine assay."
The places of resort in this rollicking locality could furnish, long
before The Boar made the acquaintance of Falstaff, every species of
delicacy and _bonne bouche_ to their constituents, and the revelry
was apt sometimes to extend to an unseasonable hour. In an early naval
song we meet with the lines:
"He that will in East Cheap eat a goose so fat,
With harp, pipe, and song,
Must lie in Newgate on a mat,
Be the night never so long."
And these establishments infallibly contributed their quota or more to
the prisons in the vicinity.
Houses of refreshment seem, however, to have extended themselves
westward, and to have become tolerably numerous, in the earlier
society of the sixteenth century, for Sir Thomas More, in a letter to
his friend Dean Colet, speaking of a late walk in Westminster and
of the various temptations to expenditure and dissipation which the
neighbourhood then afforded, remarks: "Whithersoever we cast our eyes,
what do we see but victualling-houses, fishmongers, butchers, cooks,
pudding-makers, fishers, and fowlers, who minister matter to our
bellies?" This was prior to 1519, the date of Colet's decease.
There were of course periods of scarcity and high prices then as now.
It was only a few years later (1524), that Robert Whittinton, in
one of his grammatical tracts (the "Vulgaria"), includes among his
examples:--
"Befe and motton is so dere, that a peny worth of meet wyll scant
suffyse a boy at a meale."
The term "cook's-shop" occurs in the Orders and Ordinances devised
by the Steward, Dean, and Burgesses of Westminster in 1585, for the
better municipal government of that borough.
The tenth article runs thus:--"Item, that no person or persons that
keepeth or that hereafter shall keep any cook's-shop, shall also
keep a common ale-house (except every such person shall be lawfully
licensed thereunto), upon pain to have and receive such punishment,
and pay such fine, as by the statute in that case is made and
provided."
But while the keepers of restaurants were, as a rule, precluded by
law from selling ale, the publicans on their side were not supposed to
purvey refreshment other than their own special commodities. For the
fifteenth proviso of these orders is:--
"Item, that no tavern-keeper or inn-keeper shall keep any cook shop
upon pain to forfeit and pay for every time offending therein 4d."
The London cooks became famous, and were not only in demand in the
City and its immediate outskirts, but were put into requisition when
any grand entertainment was given in the country. In the list of
expenses incurred at the reception of Queen Elizabeth in 1577 by Lord
Keeper Bacon at Gorhambury, is an item of £12 as wages to the cooks
of London. An accredited anecdote makes Bacon's father inimical to too
lavish an outlay in the kitchen; but a far more profuse housekeeper
might have been puzzled to dispense with special help, where the
consumption of viands and the consequent culinary labour and skill
required, were so unusually great.
In the Prologue to the "Canterbury Tales," the Cook of London and his
qualifications are thus emblazoned:--
"A Cook thei hadde with hem for the nones,
To boylle chyknes, with the mary bones,
And poudre marchaunt tart, and galyngale;
Wel cowde he knowe a draugte of London ale.
He cowde roste, and sethe, and broille, and frie
Maken mortreux, and wel bake a pie.
But gret harm was it, as it thoughte me,
That on his schyne a mormal had he:
For blankmanger that made he with the beste."
This description would be hardly worth quoting, if it were not for the
source whence it comes, and the names which it presents in common
with the "Form of Cury" and other ancient relics. Chaucer's Cook was a
personage of unusually wide experience, having, in his capacity as the
keeper of an eating-house, to cater for so many customers of varying
tastes and resources.
In the time of Elizabeth, the price at an ordinary for a dinner seems
to have been sixpence. It subsequently rose to eightpence; and in the
time of George I. the "Vade Mecum for Malt Worms (1720)" speaks of the
landlord of The Bell, in Carter Lane, raising his tariff to tenpence.
In comparison with the cost of a similar meal at present, all these
quotations strike one as high, when the different value of money is
considered. But in 1720, at all events, the customer ate at his own
discretion.
Their vicinity to East Cheap, the great centre of early taverns and
cook's-shops, obtained for Pudding Lane and Pie Corner those savoury
designations.
Paris, like London, had its cook's-shops, where you might eat your
dinner on the premises, or have it brought to your lodging in a
covered dish by a _porte-chape._ In the old prints of French kitchen
interiors, the cook's inseparable companion is his ladle, which
he used for stirring and serving, and occasionally for dealing a
refractory _garçon de cuisine_ a rap on the head.
The Dictionary of Johannes de Garlandia (early thirteenth century)
represents the cooks at Paris as imposing on the ignorant and
inexperienced badly cooked or even tainted meat, which injured their
health. These "coquinarii" stood, perhaps, in the same relation to
those times as our keepers of restaurants.
He mentions in another place that the cooks washed their utensils in
hot water, as well as the plates and dishes on which the victuals were
served.
Mr. Wright has cited an instance from the romance of "Doon de
Mayence," where the guards of a castle, on a warm summer evening,
partook of their meal in a field. Refreshment in the open air was
also usual in the hunting season, when a party were at a distance from
home; and the garden arbour was occasionally converted to this kind of
purpose, when it had assumed its more modern phase. But our picnic was
unknown.
ETIQUETTE OF THE TABLE.
Paul Hentzner, who was in England at the end of the reign of
Elizabeth, remarks of the people whom he saw that "they are more
polite in eating than the French, devouring less bread, but more meat,
which they roast in perfection. They put a good deal of sugar in their
drink."
In his "Court and Country," 1618, Nicholas Breton gives an instructive
account of the strict rules which were drawn up for observance
in great households at that time, and says that the gentlemen who
attended on great lords and ladies had enough to do to carry these
orders out. Not a trencher must be laid or a napkin folded awry; not a
dish misplaced; not a capon carved or a rabbit unlaced contrary to
the usual practice; not a glass filled or a cup uncovered save at the
appointed moment: everybody must stand, speak, and look according to
regulation.
The books of demeanour which have been collected by Mr. Furnivall
for the Early English Text Society have their incidental value as
illustrating the immediate theme, and are curious, from the growth in
consecutive compilations of the code of instructions for behaviour at
table, as evidences of an increasing cultivation both in manners and
the variety of appliances for domestic use, including relays of knives
for the successive courses. Distinctions were gradually drawn between
genteel and vulgar or coarse ways of eating, and facilities were
provided for keeping the food from direct contact with the fingers,
and other primitive offences against decorum. Many of the precepts in
the late fifteenth century "Babies' Book," while they demonstrate the
necessity for admonition, speak also to an advance in politeness
and delicacy at table. There must be a beginning somewhere; and the
authors of these guides to deportment had imbibed the feeling for
something higher and better, before they undertook to communicate
their views to the young generation.
There is no doubt that the "Babies' Book" and its existing congeners
are the successors of anterior and still more imperfect attempts to
introduce at table some degree of cleanliness and decency. When the
"Babies' Book" made its appearance, the progress in this direction
must have been immense. But the observance of such niceties was of
course at first exceptional; and the ideas which we see here embodied
were very sparingly carried into practice outside the verge of the
Court itself and the homes of a few of the aristocracy.
There may be an inclination to revolt against the barbarous doggerel
in which the instruction is, as a rule, conveyed, and against the
tedious process of perusing a series of productions which follow
mainly the same lines. But it is to be recollected that these manuals
were necessarily renewed in the manuscript form from age to age, with
variations and additions, and that the writers resorted to metre as
a means of impressing the rules of conduct more forcibly on their
pupils.
Of all the works devoted to the management of the table and kitchen,
the "Book of Nurture," by John Russell, usher of the chamber and
marshal of the ball to Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, is perhaps, on
the whole, the most elaborate, most trustworthy, and most important.
It leaves little connected with the _cuisine_ of a noble establishment
of the fifteenth century untouched and unexplained; and although
it assumes the metrical form, and in a literary respect is a dreary
performance, its value as a guide to almost every branch of the
subject is indubitable. It lays bare to our eyes the entire machinery
of the household, and we gain a clearer insight from it than from the
rest of the group of treatises, not merely into what a great man of
those days and his family and retainers ate and drank, and how they
used to behave themselves at table, but into the process of making
various drinks, the mystery of carving, and the division of duties
among the members of the staff. It is, in fact, the earliest
comprehensive book in our literature.
The functions of the squire at the table of a prince are, to a certain
extent, shown in the "Squire of Low Degree," where the hero, having
arrayed himself in scarlet, with a chaplet on his head and a belt
round his waist, cast a horn about his neck, and went to perform his
duty in the hall. He approaches the king, dish in hand, and kneels.
When he has served his sovereign, he hands the meats to the others.
We see a handsome assortment of victuals on this occasion, chiefly
venison and birds, and some of the latter were baked in bread,
probably a sort of paste. The majority of the names on the list are
familiar, but a few--the teal, the curlew, the crane, the stork,
and the snipe--appear to be new. It is, in all these cases, almost
impossible to be sure how much we owe to the poet's imagination and
how much to his rhythmical poverty. From another passage it is to be
inferred that baked venison was a favourite mode of dressing the deer.
The precaution of coming to table with clean hands was inculcated
perhaps first as a necessity, when neither forks nor knives were used,
and subsequently as a mark of breeding. The knife preceded the spoon,
and the fork, which had been introduced into Italy in the eleventh
century, and which strikes one as a fortuitous development of the
Oriental chopstick, came last. It was not in general use even in
the seventeenth century here. Coryat the traveller saw it among the
Italians, and deemed it a luxury and a notable fact.
The precepts delivered by Lydgate and others for demeanour at table
were in advance of the age, and were probably as much honoured in the
breach as otherwise. But the common folk did then much as many of
them do now, and granted themselves a dispensation both from knife and
fork, and soap and water. The country boor still eats his bacon or his
herring with his fingers, just as Charles XII. of Sweden buttered his
bread with his royal thumb.
A certain cleanliness of person, which, at the outset, was not
considerably regarded, became customary, as manners softened and
female influence asserted itself; and even Lydgate, in his "Stans
Puer ad Mensam (an adaptation from Sulpitius)," enjoins on his page or
serving-boy a resort to the lavatory before he proceeds to discharge
his functions at the board--
"Pare clean thy nails; thy hands wash also
Before meat; and when thou dost arise."
Other precepts follow. He was not to speak with his mouth full. He
was to wipe his lips after eating, and his spoon when he had finished,
taking care not to leave it in his dish. He was to keep his napkin as
clean and neat as possible, and he was not to pick his teeth with his
knife. He was not to put too much on his trencher at once. He was not
to drop his sauce or soup over his clothes, or to fill his spoon
too full, or to bring dirty knives to the table. All these points of
conduct are graphic enough; and their trite character is their virtue.
Boiled, and perhaps fried meats were served on silver; but roasts
might be brought to table on the spit, which, after a while, was often
of silver, and handed round for each person to cut what he pleased;
and this was done not only with ordinary meat, but with game, and even
with a delicacy like a roast peacock. Of smaller birds, several were
broached on one spit. There is a mediaeval story of a husband being
asked by his wife to help her to the several parts of a fowl in
succession, till nothing was left but the implement on which it had
come in, whereupon the man determined she should have that too, and
belaboured her soundly with it. At more ceremonious banquets the
servants were preceded by music, or their approach from the kitchen
to the hall was proclaimed by sound of trumpets. Costly plate was
gradually introduced, as well as linen and utensils, for the table;
but the plate may be conjectured to have been an outcome from the
primitive _trencher_, a large slice of bread on which meat was laid
for the occupants of the high table, and which was cast aside after
use.
Bread served at table was not to be bitten or broken off the loaf,
but to be cut; and the loaf was sometimes divided before the meal, and
skilfully pieced together again, so as to be ready for use.
INDEX.
Acton, Eliza, 171
Addington, Surrey, 232
Aigredouce, 57
Albans, St., Abbey of, 208, 233-4
Ale, 183, 205
--Cock, 152
--Elder, 152
--Kentish, 205
Alfred and the cakes, 54
Al-fresco meals, 253-4
Alfric, Colloquy of, 57
Amber puddings, 29, 83
Angelica, 135
Anglo-Danish barbarism, 3
Anglo-Celtic influence, 52
Anglo-Saxon names of meats, 181
Animal food, 8-9, 34
Anthropophagy, 5-7
Apicius, C., 12
Apuleius, 65
Arms and crests on dishes, 42
Arnold's Chronicle, 61
Arthur, 56, 182, 184-5
Ashen-keys, pickled, 143
Asparagus, 84
Assize of ale, 205
Australian meat, 172
Babies' Book, 257
Bacon, Lord Keeper, 251
Bag pudding, 184-5-6
Baker, 28, 197-8
--Parisian, 197-8
Bakestone, 35, 211
Banbury cake, 29, 83
Bannock, 33
Banquet, order of a fourteenth century, 43
Barba, M., 15
Bardolf, a dish, 57
Bardolph, 245
Bartholomew de Cheney, 232
--St., Hospital of, at Sandwich, 236
Battalia pie, 109
Beef, powdered, 187
--Martlemas, 183
Beer, 26-7, 204-5
--composition of the ancient, 205
Bees, wild, 8
Bellows 213, 215
Birch wine, 204
Bit and bite, 218
Blackcaps, 85-6
Bolton, Charles, Duke of, 82
Book of St. Albans, 61
Books of demeanour, 256
Branderi, 211
Brass cooking vessels, 211
Brawn, 187
Bread, 8, 25-6, 195-7, 262
Britons, diet of the, 8
-- Northern and Southern, 16
Brittany, 3
Broach or spit turner, 236-7
Broom-buds, pickled, 144
Broth, 3, 23
Bun, 28
Butler, ancient duties of the, 234
Butter, 198
Caerleon, 183
Caesar, evidence of, 9-11, 16, 17
Cakes, 35, 127-32
Calais, 194
Calves, newly-born
--removal of, from the mother, while in milk, 8
Cannibalism, 5-6
Carps' tongues, 13
Carving, terms of, 12
Castelvetri, 199
Caudles and possets, 132-4
Caviary, 199-200
Charlet, 23
Chaucer, G. 246, 251
Chaworth's (Lady) pudding, 29
Cheesecakes, Mrs. Leed's, etc., 29, 127, 191
Cheeses, 125-7
Chimney, kitchen, 210
China broth, 84
China earth, 220
Christmas, 27
Clare Market, 14
Cleikirai Club, 168
Clermont, B., 159-61
Coals, 215-16
Cobham, Lord, 194
Cockle, 195
Colet, Dean, 249
College wine, 240
Colonial cattle, 172
Condiments, 29-31, 198, 214
Confectioner, 28
--master, 37
Confectionery, 28
Conserves, 134-42
Cook, 201, 229-30
--master, 231-3
Cookery-books, lists of, 67-9, 79-81
--with the names of old owners, 71
Cook's-shops. 245-9
Cooking utensils, great value of, 222
--lists of, 223-7
Cooper, Joseph, 72-3
Copley, Esther, 164
Copper, art of tinning, 217
Cornish pasty, 185
Coryat, Thomas, 222
Court, the ancient, 231
Cows, 8-9
Crab-apple sauce, 215
Creams, 123-4
Cromwell, Oliver, 73-5
--his favourite dishes, _ibid._
Cuisine bourgeoise of ancient Rome, 7
--English, affected by fusions of race, 10
--Old French, 18-19
Cuisinier Royal, Le, 14-15
Curds and cream, 191
Danish settlers, 9
Danish settlers, their influence on our diet, 9
Deer-suet, clarified, 44
DelaHay Street, 37
Deportment at table, gradual improvement in the, 261
Dishes, lists of, 23-4, 200-1
--substituted for trenchers, 219
--different sizes and materials of, 227
--mode of serving up, 261-2
Dods, Margaret, 167
Dripping-pans, 225, 228
Dumplings, Norfolk, 192
Earl, Rules and Orders for the House of an, 39-42
East-Cheap, 246-48
Eating-houses, public, 245-50
Ebulum, 151
Edward III., 222
Eggs, 23
--buttered, 13
Elizabeth, Queen, 190
Endoring, 198
English establishment, staff of an, 39
Ennius, Phagetica of, 6
Epulario, 66
Etiquette of the table, 255-63
Fairfax inventories, 7, 218
Falstaff, 248
Farm-servants' diet, 191
Feasts, marriage and coronation, 47-9
Finchmgfield, 217
Fireplace, 211, 213
Fish, cheaper, demanded, 33
--on fast-days, 48
--considered indigestible, 64
--lists of, 19-21, 23
--musical lament of the dying, 23
Fishing, Saxon mode of, 19
Florendine, 103
Flowers, conserve of, 136
Forced meat, 191
Forks, 222-4
Foreign cookery, 28-30
--Warner's strictures on 29-30
Form of Cury, 55
Forster, John, of Hanlop, 65
Fox, Sir Stephen, 34
Francatelli, 162
French establishment, staff of a, 36
French Gardener, the, 69-70
Fricasee, 23
Fruit-tart, 186
Fruits, dried or preserved, 134-42
Frying-pan, 222
Frying Pan Houses at Wandsworth, 211
Furmety, 64
Galantine, 58
Galingale, 251
Game, 17, 43-4
Garlic, 214
Gilling in Yorkshire, 218
Gingerbread, 131
Ginger-fork, 222
Glass and crystal handles to knives and forks, 222
Glasse, Mrs., 154-6
Glastonbury Abbey, 205
Glazing, or endoring, 48, 198
Gomme, G.L., 16
Goose, 100
--giblets, 190
Grampus, 21
Grape, English, used for wine, 203
Greece, Ancient, 5
Greek anthropophagy, 6-7
Greene, Robert, 242
Hamilton, Duke and Duchess of, 221
Hare, 17
Harington family, 42
Hen, threshing the fat, 62-3
Henry II., 245
--III., 194, 205
--IV., 47
--IV. and V., 47
--VII., 21, 204
--VIII., 241
Hill, Dr., 156-8
Hippocras, 204, 241
Holborn and the Strand, suburbs of, 215
Home-brewed drink, 192
Hommes de Bouche, 15
Hops 27
Hospitality, decay of, 189-90
Inns, want of, in early Scotland, 32-3
--and taverns in Westminster, rules for, 250
Italian cookery, 28, 198
--pudding, 85
Italy, the fork brought from, 222
Jack, the, 237
Jacks, black, 190-1
Jigget of mutton, 34
Joe Miller quoted, 13
Johannes de Garlandia, 214
Johnson, Dr., 156-9
Johnstone, Mrs., 167-8
Jumbals, 128
Junket, 64
Jussel, a dish, 23
Kail-pot, 212
Kettle, 182
Kitchens, 206
--furniture of, 213-14
--staff of the, 230
Kitchener, Dr., 165-6
Knives, 224, 226
Ladies and gentlemen at table, 221
Landlord and lawyer, exactions of, 189-90
Land o' Cakes, 33
Laver, 229
Leveret, 17
Liber Cure Cocorum, 59-60
Liqueurs, 241
Liquids, storage of, 201
Loaf of bread, 196
--sugar, 194
Lombards, 248
London cooks famous, 250
Lord Mayor of London, 20
Lord Mayor's Pageant for 1590, 33
Lucas, Joseph, his Studies in Nidderdale, 11
Lumber pie, 110
Luncheon, 243
Luxury, growth of, 41-2, 187
Lydgate's Story of Thebes, 24
--"London Lickpenny," 247
Malory's King Arthur, 183
Manuturgium, 218
Maple-wood bowls, 228-9
Marinade, 102
Marketing, old, 40
Marlborough cake, 129
Marmalade, 139
Maser, 228-9
Massinger quoted, 13
Master-cook, 41, 214, 231-3
--ancient privileges of the, 231-3
Meals, 191, 238-54
--in the Percy establishment, 35
Meats and drinks, 193, 205
Menagier de Paris quoted, 18
Merenda, a meal, 241-2
Metheglin or hydromel, 64, 204
Middleton, John, chef, 82, 84-6
Milk, 8, 201
Modern terms for dishes first introduced, 24
More, Sir Thomas, 249
Morsus, 218
Morton, Cardinal, 23
Moryson, Fynes, quoted, 31-2
Mulberries, 137-8
Mushrooms, 199
Music to announce the banquet, 262
Mustard, 214
Nasturtium-buds, pickled, 142
Neckam, Alexander, 17, 18, 51, 53
Nevill, Archbishop, 48, 240
Newcastle coal, 216
New College pudding, 113
Nidderdale, 11, 212
Noble Book of Cookery, 60-1
Norfolk dumplings, 192
--yeoman, 192
Norman cuisine, 3, 44-6
--influence on cookery, 45
Normandy, 3
Nott, John, chef, 82
Oatmeal, 187
Oblys, 196
Odysseus, 6
Odyssey, 6
Olio, 85
--pie, 109
Omelettes, 24
Orders and Ordinances of Lord Burleigh as steward of Westminster, 250
Ordinaries, London, 252
--Parisian, 253
Oriental sources of cooking, 7
Oxford, 240
Oxford cake, 83
Parisian cook's-shops, 253
Partridges not recommended to the poor, 64
--187
Passage, a game, 248
Pastry, 23
Peacocks. 13, 48
Pelops, 6
Pepper, 214
Peter of Blois, 205
Peterborough Abbey, 216
Pewter, utensils of, 247-8
Phagetica of Ennius, 6
Pheasants, 13
Pickles, 143 _et seq._
Piers of Fulham, 22, 187, 241
Pies, 23, 109-10, 191
Pig's pettitoes, 191
Ploughman (husbandman), 188
Plovers, 187
Pockets, 102
Poloe, 107
Polyphemus, 6
Pome de oringe, 198
Poor, diet of the, 181_et seq._
--relief of the, 244
"Poor Knights," a dish, 29
Pope, Alex., 210
Porcelain, 219
Pork, 18, 54
Porpoise, 20-1, 200
Porte-chape, 253
Potato, 65
Pot-au-feu, 53
Pot-hook, 225
Pot-luck, 53
Poudre-marchaunt tart, 251
Poultry, 17, 44
Powdered beef, 187
--horse, 30
Puddings, 23, 113 _et seq._
Pulpatoon, 108
Quinces, 138-9, 141
Rabbit, 17
Radish-pods, pickled, 144
Raisin-sauce, 215
Rasher, 23
Rear-supper, 239, 242
Receipts of eminent persons, 85,
--Early, 98-153
Religious scruples against certain food, 9
Rents, excessive, 189-90
Roasting-spit or iron, 217
Robert, Master, and his wife Helena, 208, 234-5
Romans, culinary economy of, 7
--obligation to Greece, 7
Roses, conserve of, 65
Rundell, Mrs., 161
Rush, Friar, 237
Russell's Book of Nurture, 258
Salt, 214
--, fine, 228
--cellar, 218
Sandwich, Kent, 236
Saracen sauce, 58
Saucepan, 216
Sauces, 29-31, 214-15
Sausage, 23
Saxon influence on diet, 9
Scotland, want of Inns in, 32-3
Scots, the, 11, 33, 168
--their early food, 11
--their poverty, 33
Scott, Sir Walter, 167-8
Scottish cookery, early, 30-2
Secret house, keeping, 26, 49,190
Shakespeare, W., 242
Shrewsbury cakes, 85
"Sing a song of sixpence," 66
Smith and his Dame, a tale, 215
Smith, E., Preface to her Cookery Book, 1736, 89-97
--select extracts from the work, 98-153
Soap, 226
Song of the Boar's Head, 241
Soups, 23
Soyer, Alexis, 169-72
Spanish influence on cookery, 66
--Armada, 190
Spice with wine, 204
Spinach, 84
Spit-turner, 236
Spit, turning the, a tenure, 217
Spoons, 218, 222-4
Spread-eagle pudding, 114
Spruce-beer, 203
Squire, functions of the, at table 259
"Squire of Low Degree," 259
St. Albans Abbey, 208
St. John's College, Cambridge, 202
Stanton-Harcourt, 210
"Store of house," 187
Subtleties, 47-8
Sugar, 193-5
Swan, 106
Swinfield, Bishop, 4
Sykes, Colonel, 220
Syrups from flowers, 112
Table-cloth, 218
Table-furniture, 231
Tansies, 122
Tart, fruit, 186
Tea caudle, 134
Temse, 35
Tiffany cakes, 35
Tillinghast, Mary, 77
Tinder-box, 216
Tom Thumb, 54, 182, 186
Touchwood, Peregrine, Esquire 168
Towel, 218
Trencher, 197, 218, 219-21
--Posies on the, 220
Tripe, double, 106
Tripod, 181, 211-13
Trivet, 225
Trumpet, dishes brought into the hall to the sound of, 262
Tureiner, 103
Tusser, Thomas, 62-3
Ude, Louis Eustache, 167
Utensils, 12, 17, 206, 208 _et seq._, 225-8
--treatise on, by Alex. Neckam, 17, 51
Vegetable diet, 183
Venison, 43-4, 198
Venner, Tobias, 63-6
Viard et Fouret, MM., 14-15
Village life, early, 36
Vocabularies, primary object of, 51-2
Wafery, 244
Wandsworth, 211
Warham, Archbishop, 48
Westminister, 249-50
Westphalia hams, 104
Whale, 20
Whetstone cakes, 127
Whey, 205
White grease, 58
Whittinton, Robert, 249
Wigs, 121
William I., 3, 27
--III., his posset, 132
William of Malmesbury, 16
Wines, 145-53. 202-4
--lists of, 203-4
Wolsey, Cardinal, 21
Wood-Street cake, 85
Wormwood cakes, 130
--wine, 204
Wotton, Sir Edward, 194
Yeoman, diet of the, 182 _et seg._,_243
--bad state of the, 189-90
Yorkshire, 12
Young Cook's Monitor, the, by M.H., 75-7