_The Spoon always an Object of Plunder—Border Thieves—Golden
Rule—Index of Human Condition—Old English and other Salutations—Lip
Worship—Spoons formerly Preachers of Temperance—Their Influence on
Individual and National Character—Beef and Bouilli—Fat Men fined and
Obesity revered—Steaks and Stews—Effects of Animal Food on Nations—War
Speech of an English General—Greeks and Trojans—Spoons of peculiar
Antiquarian Value—Trick of Alexander—Curious use of Spoons, and
Lessons derived from them—Their Influence in Politics and War—Procure
Food as well as Cook it—Friends in need—Heir-looms._
The virtues of the spoon have in every age led men to covet it, and, to
gratify their covetousness, to commit burglaries to obtain it. With the
wicked, this is natural; for a _silver_ spoon is a talisman—he who
possesses one can never want. It is chiefly, however, such unfortunates
as are not born with one in their mouths who thus attempt to supply what
nature forgot. But _horn_ and _pewter_ spoons were not despised by
respectable robbers of yore. In Maitland’s “Complaynt against the
Theivis of Liddisdail,” we find them borne off from poor people’s
dwellings, along with bread, fowls, spinning apparatus, bed-clothes,
shirts, &c. The old leviers of black mail seized on every thing that was
not ‘too heavy or too hot’ to be carried away.
Thay spuilye puir men of their pakis,
Thay leif them nocht on bed nor bakis;
Baith hen and cok,
With reil and rok,
The Lairdis Jok,
All with him takis.
Thay leif not spindel, SPOONE, nor speit,
Bed, bolster, blanket, sark, nor scheit.
Many a knife has committed murder, and forks have been guilty of felony;
but what bad thing has the spoon ever done? Kidnapped in all ages, it
never was known to return evil to its evil entreaters: on the contrary,
it has blessed its greatest foes. Like the sun shining on the wicked and
the good, this servant of man has been among all nations, kindreds, and
tongues, a practical teacher of the Golden Rule—withholding its services
from none, but feeding alike the thankless and the thankful. No
implement has done more for man. Almost all others have been turned
against him, but the spoon—never.
The spoon is an indicator of merit and of human condition. It is every
where deemed an appropriate crest for the arms of an alderman, because
every where hailed as the symbol of good cheer. A wooden or a _pewter_
spoon, or one of tinned iron, is an emblem of an author, who seldom gets
a better, unless he borrows it; a _silver_ one, the symbol of a printer,
who is generally “well to do;” and a _golden_ one, of a publisher, who
alone in the book trade can afford to eat turtle. Of all indications of
poverty, a broken pewter spoon is the most distressing—a proof of
wretchedness extreme.
The implement is about the only one belonging to the kitchen that
behaves well in the dining room. Its associate, the angry knife,
sometimes wounds its master, and the sly fork occasionally pricks him,
but the spoon is ‘ever faithful,’ and the ‘most obedient of servants.’
To these amiable qualities it is possible the very common expressions,
“Your humble servant,” “Your most obedient and faithful servant,” may be
allied; for it is a fact that these French forms of address were first
introduced into English compliments and composition on an occasion when
the spoon performed a royal part—at the marriage of Mary, daughter of
Henry IV. of France. The usual British salutations before this were,
“God keep you,” “God be with you;” and with country people, “How dost
do?” accompanied often with a whack on the shoulder; and, if a woman,
with a smack on the lips. (_See Antiq. Repertory_, iii. 43.)
Antiquarians inform us that kissing with a smack was a _Roman_ practice;
for the benefit of future Archæologists, an equally surprising fact may
as well be mentioned of the _Dutch_, who actually relish other earthly
comforts in a similar way! Whenever a glass or spoon leaves anything
agreeable within their lips, the approving smack, it is said, invariably
follows. This sharp and pleasant little sound is so inseparably
associated with their ideas of the good things of this life, that it has
become incorporated with their ordinary salutations. Their usual morning
greeting is “_Smaakelyk eeten!_” So a southern Chinese salutes another
by saying _Ya tan?_ Have you eaten your rice? In other words, have you
handled your chopsticks or spoon?
The spoon is a fine symbol of complaisance. No one takes hold of it
without pleasure, and many lay it down with regret. Its daily appearance
at table is met with smiles, and every guest intimates his or her
unalloyed joy by carrying it to their lips. In some countries it is so
esteemed that when loaned it passes directly out of the mouth of the
owner into that of the borrower. (See account of Esquimaux ladies at
dinner, in the late voyages to the north.) Like the black stone at
Mecca, it is polished with the lips of its admirers. A censorious world
might stigmatize this as “lip worship,” but it flows from the heart; or,
at least, from the neighborhood of the heart, for, according to Chinese
philosophy, the seat of the soul is in the centre of the stomach. So
thought an old statesman and poet:
From _thence_ she sends out those supplies
Which make us either stout or wise;
The strength of every other member
Is founded on your belly timber;
The qualms or raptures of your blood
Rise in proportion to your food;
And if you would improve your thought.
You must be fed as well as taught.
Though with some an instrument of gluttony, the spoon was formerly a
preacher of temperance; the lessons it taught being engraved as mottoes
on the handle; while for those on whom words made no impression (and few
who used it in the middle ages could read,) images of death and the
devil were cut on the bowl! _Plate V_ has a figure of one of these
curious inventions for enforcing moderation at meals—one on which is
emblazoned a _death’s head_! Think for a moment how could the most
confirmed gourmand sin with such a tool! Why, the _chef d’oeuvre_ of
gastronomic fluids could not be conveyed to any man’s stomach in excess
by it, unless the owner of the stomach was blind. The most horrible of
_memento morii_ not only staring him in the face, but actually mixing
with his food! If anything could subdue voracious appetites, one might
suppose this would.
The spoon opens the mouth of every dumb person; and, what is sometimes
as difficult to accomplish, it stops the most loquacious one. Its
effects are exceedingly diversified. With most people, eating puts an
end to speaking, according to the venerable precept, “Let your meat stop
your mouth;” but some are more talkative at table than any where else.
We remember an old lady remarkably taciturn except when handling a
spoon. It was a key that unloosed her tongue. Every time she sipped
coffee or tea, a remark dropped from her; but not a word ever came out
till the spoon had first gone in; as if it carried permission to the
imprisoned member to take a moment’s exercise.
Its influence is very observable on nations. It modifies their manners
and customs, affects their arts, sciences, and manufactures; gives tone
to individual character, to modes of thought and action. Who does not
know that the vivacity and other marked attributes of the French people
are derived from the free use of the spoon? They are too wise to follow
the example of their saturnine neighbors, in everlastingly using the
knife and the fork. It is a fact too well known to need repetition here,
that the differences in the temper and habits of the Briton and Gaul are
to be traced to Roasts and Ragouts, to Beef and Bouilli.
The Celts and Gauls fined a fat man, and increased or diminished the
penalty according to the size of his paunch—reversing the doctrines of
India, where Rajahs are respected for their obesity—and of Southern
Africa, where ladies are admired for the width of their waists, and
their beauty determined by the hundred weight.
_Steaks_ make a German or an Englishman portly and dull; _stews_, a
Frenchman light and agile. On one side of the channel, _fries_ render
men heavy as dray horses; on the other, _fricasees_ make them frisky as
genets. It is the spoon that causes one people to be graceful in their
persons and polite in their demeanor, and the want of it another
ungainly in their movements and awkward in their compliments—that fits
this people for natural teachers of dancing, and makes those persons
incapable of appreciating the rudiments of personal accomplishments. So
with other national characteristics. All may be traced more or less
direct to the knife and the spoon.
Observe the various operations
Of food, and drink in several nations.
Was ever Tartar fierce and cruel
Upon the strength of water-gruel?
But who can stand his rage and force
If first he rides, then eats his horse?
Salad and eggs and lighter fare
Tune the Italian spark’s guitar;
And if I read Dan Congreve right,
Pudding and beef make Britons fight.—_Prior._
Howell says, ‘while Englishmen drank only ale, they were strong, brawny,
able men, and could draw an arrow an ell long; but when they fell to
wine and beer, they are found to be much impaired in their strength and
age.’
An old British commander thus addressed his troops on the eve of battle:
“What a shame it would be to you, Englishmen, who feed upon beef and
drink beer, to let those rascally Spaniards beat you, who eat nothing
but oranges and lemons.” The same intellectual gentleman we presume it
was who supposed a well-known passage in Macbeth had reference to the
dressing of a beef steak or mutton chop:
If it were done, when ’tis done, then ’twere well
It were done quickly.
Sir William Temple attributed the bravery of his countrymen to their
carnivorous propensities. According to this doctrine, and it has many
advocates, rice-eating Asiatics can never withstand European feeders on
beef: those nations that excel others in killing cattle for food will
generally be the most successful butchers of men—the most valiant eating
the most bullocks. The principle is certainly illustrated in almost
every page of ancient history—and the most in accounts of those nations
the most known—as the Greeks, Carthaginians, and Romans. So in the
present day—oppressed people are such as are confined to vegetable diet,
as the Hindoos, the Irish, &c. In the Iliad, spits, roasting fires, and
boiling pots are about as common as spears, shields, or clubs: and
enumeration of cattle, sheep, goats, and swine, as troops of men and
horses. The Greek princes were their own butchers and cooks, and were
often half broiled while preparing their dinners. But we don’t read of
Hector or his friends sweating like
Patroclus, who o’er the blazing fire
Heaps in a brazen vase three chines entire.
No! the people of Troy were unfortunately more chastened in their
manners, and refined in their appetites, and hence compelled to yield to
their savage and flesh eating invaders!
Spoons possess a high antiquarian interest, not merely as specimens of
the arts, and indicative of the use of hot fluids in former times, but
as bearing on the curious subject of human stature—on the question of
the degeneracy of man’s frame. Egyptian spoons of great antiquity are
preserved in museums of Europe, and are of the same average size as
those now in use; [_see figures farther on_;] proving in the clearest
manner that people’s mouths, between three and four thousand years ago,
were of the same width and capacity as ours. If mummies, therefore, had
never been drawn from the catacombs of the Nile, these little implements
would have been sufficient to show that while the subjects of the
Pharaohs surpassed other people in the magnitude of their works, their
souls dwelt in bodies no larger than ours.
Ancient caldrons were often of enormous capacities, sometimes equaling a
modern brewer’s vat. This was on account of the large households of
princes—their families, like Solomon’s, consisting of hundreds and even
thousands of officers and attendants; but there is no record of the
spoon having ever varied in its general dimensions. Had Alexander, when
he wished to deceive posterity into a belief that his army was composed
of giants, buried on each field of battle a few gross of spoons,
capacious as good sized ladles, the deception would have been as likely
to succeed as by his inhuming bridles and mangers for mammoth horses,
and armor suitable for such men as Goliah of Gath, and the old King of
Bashan.
Is it imagined existing ladles of a former world were possibly used as
spoons, and therefore such reasoning is not conclusive? A little
reflection will show the contrary; or if the reader will turn to _Plate
III_, he will see it would be a very difficult matter to empty an
ancient ladle, or simpulum, into the mouth, in consequence of the
position of the handle; this being perpendicular to the mouth of the
bowl; whereas in the spoon it is on a line or nearly so with it.
In how many ways does the spoon contribute to man’s enjoyments! Besides
its more appropriate business, it often assists in quite different
matters. Its devotion is not confined to the mouth, nor to things for
the mouth, but, like an anxious attendant, is ever ready to lend its
assistance where it can. Most readers can call to mind numerous
occasions on which the value of its presence was felt. Neighbor Windt
can never get up the heels of his shoes till in place of his fingers he
applies the shank of a spoon, and matches were never made in his house
without tipping their ends in brimstone fused in another. Is a person
faint? The spoon is called to revive him. Are you in pain? quoth the
doctor, “three drops from this vial, in a tea-spoon full of syrup, will
relieve you.” You are restless? “Take these pills in a table-spoon full
of wine, and you’ll soon be asleep.” Infants suffer greatly in cutting
their teeth, but by “champering a spoon,” the gums are sooner cut
through; and thus this devoted servant of our species kindly hastens the
period when, in a more legitimate way, it can gratify little innocents.
When influenzas rage, what is the first act of attending disciples of
Galen? To ask for a spoon, that with it they may press down the tongue
to examine the fauces. In epidemic catarrhs, there is scarcely a house
free from the disease, or a spoon from this service. Now, is it not
remarkable that in afflictions of the mouth and throat the benign and
sympathetic spoon should not only administer appropriate medicines, but
he actually called in ere the nature of those medicines is determined!
Its presence required by consulting physicians, as if from its
familiarity with the patient, his habits and manner of life, and its
acquaintance with the bronchial regions—its aid was indispensable!
It serves prince and peasant on some curious occasions. The part it
performs in the coronation of kings will be noticed further on, but we
may here notice how the poor derive from it a valuable lesson. Start
not, gentle reader, at our announcing that spoons have long taught the
children of penury to lay right in bed! Yes; and shown them the only
way, in certain cases, by which either to get in or keep in—solving a
very curious geometrical problem. The custom alluded to is said to be
well known in soldiers’ barracks, lodging houses for mendicants, in
cheap boarding schools for boys, and wherever circumstances require four
or more persons to sleep on one couch. It is obvious uniformity of
position and movement, in such cases, is indispensable to individual
repose.
When half a dozen spoons are laid out separately, they take up
considerable room, but place them edgewise, bring up the mouth of one
close to the back of the next, &c. and the whole will form a compact
mass. Just so with half a dozen tenants of one bed; if laid
promiscuously, they could not find room; that is only obtained by
placing themselves “spoon-fashion”—all turned one way and close fitted
to each other. The oldest occupant regulates the positions and motions
of his fellows. Having the privilege of first laying down, he adjusts
himself to his own liking; drawing up his knees as far as he finds
agreeable, he becomes a model or pattern to which those behind him must
conform. No one can then “turn on t’other side,” without general
consent; and it is only when the chief gives the signal (by exclaiming
“_spoons_,”) that the interesting evolution takes place.
Spoons were formerly used to feed the nose as well as the mouth—_snuff_
being conveyed in them to the nostrils instead of between the finger and
thumb—but this will be illustrated by a cut on a future page. We have
somewhere read of the implement performing the part of a
linguist—interpreting between navigators and strange people. When other
modes failed to make known the want of food, the sight of a spoon,
accompanied with the usual movements in using it, instantly opened the
understandings of savages, and saved Christian travellers from
starvation.
Silver spoons have made their influence felt in the politics of nations.
The enthusiasm of the people of England in supporting the cause of the
parliament against Charles I. may be gathered from the contribution of
the inhabitants of a single town to the republican cause. In London,
enormous masses of plate were heaped up in Guildhall, the gift of the
citizens. We select a few items from the list of donors named in the
History and Antiquities of Great Yarmouth, [Norwich, 1772.]
“Thomas Goose, seven pieces of plate and _two spoons_.
“Robert Wakeman, 51 oz. of plate, at 5s. 4d. per oz. and _nine spoons_
in _coarse silver_, weighing 14 oz. at 4s. 6d. per oz.”
[We leave it to modern smiths to distinguish between the “_coarse_” and
“best” silver.]
“William Burton, 59 oz. plate, _one spoon, best_, and _four coarse
spoons_ and a bodkin.
“George England, 91 oz. and _seven silver spoons_.
“Robert Huntington, 158 oz. and _one spoon_.
“William Bridge, 10 pieces of plate and _seven spoons_; and at another
time, 72 oz. and _seven spoons_.
“John Thompson, _two cups_ and a _spoon_.”
The above may serve as a commentary on the following lines from a
contemporary poet, by whom the parliament is addressed:
Our plate, our coin, our jewels, and our rings,
Arms, ornaments, and all our precious things,
To you we brought as bountifully in,
As if they had old rusty horse-shoes been.
Butler, the champion of monarchy, as a matter of course turned this
patriotic ardor into ridicule:
Did saints for this bring in their plate,
And crowd as if they came too late?
For when they thought the cause had need on’t,
Happy was he that could be rid on’t.
Did they coin p— p—s, bowls and flagons,
Int’ officers of horse and dragoons?
And into pikes and musqueteers,
Stamp beakers, cups, and porringers?
A thimble, bodkin, and a SPOON,
Did start up living men as soon
As in the furnace they were thrown.—_Hudibras_, _Canto_ ii.
Nor have pewter spoons been behind silver ones in freedom’s cause. Few
kitchen utensils have done more for national independence. Like those in
the house of John Adams, they have been molded into bullets, and sent in
haste to stay the stomachs of mercenary troops attempting to prey upon
their owners. In the war of the revolution, when the spoons in New-York
were used up, a set of men without the fear of God or the King before
their eyes, pulled down the leaden statue of George in the Bowling
Green, and fused him into balls. Then, as the royal officers professed
to honor the king in their hearts, the rebels thought it right to send
him into their bosoms. Here we see how spoons, though designed to convey
victuals to the mouth, can of themselves effectually silence the
cravings of hunger.
In another sense, pewter spoons have entered the field. Essentially of
domestic habits, and brought up to wait on their owners at table, yet
when a country family’s provision has been spent, they have been known
to go in quest of some. Putting on a new form, (being cast into
“buck-shot,”) they have left home, like Esau, “to take venison,” and
have generally returned (in the bodies of the game) with fresh supplies
for the larder. Having done this, they have, in one or two instances,
(when serving a backwoodsman,) resumed their previous occupation, (being
recast,) and assisted to cook and serve up the animals they killed. But
this is rarely the case, for rambling in the woods commonly puts an end
to their household occupations.
In cities, silver spoons often leave home to raise means for purchasing
provisions when the purse of their owner is emptied and his credit quite
gone. Pledged for a loan, they remain in prison without murmuring till
his circumstances revive and he redeems them from thraldom. Money
lenders turn their backs on the poor man’s knife and fork, but never
refuse his silver spoons—_their_ touching appeals cannot be resisted.
Like those heroic Moravian Missionaries, who went into slavery to
benefit perishing heathen, these well disposed little things repeatedly
save Christian families from famishing by acting in a similar manner.
After a prolonged absence, great is the joy on their arrival—then every
one takes them by the hand and greets their return.
Thus the spoon contributes to man’s joys, in prosperity, and diminishes
his sorrows when in pecuniary trouble. It is a friend that sticketh
closer than a brother. Like a Grecian or Roman nurse, its labors cease
not with the death of its master—it continues to serve him in his
descendants. Made an heirloom, it bears his initials or his name, and is
sent down to succeeding generations, a cherished memorial of the
friendship that existed between them.