_Description of Plate IV—Anointing of Kings and the Process—Miraculous
Utensils—Oil Bottles brought from Heaven—The Spoon among
Regalia—Relics of Becket—Coronation Spoon described—Its
Antiquity—Spoons of Henry VI—Cadenat—Apostle Spoons—Ancient Customs at
the Naming of Children—Christening Shirts—Scripture Biography taught
by Spoons—Anecdotes of Henry VIII. and Cranmer, of Ben Jonson and
Shakespeare—Plate presented to Guests—Spoons carried off—Sacramental
Spoon—Sanguisuchello—Snuff Spoons—Chinese, Scotch and Malagasy Snuff
Takers—Snuff an Ingredient used in Witchcraft._
It may not be generally known that the spoon takes part in the most
pompous of national pageants. We have spoken of exhibitions of
mountebanks, wherein it amused common people: let us now refer to the
part it performs in the hands of political raree-showmen for diverting
another class of spectators.
_Anointing_ monarchs at their coronation has always been deemed
indispensable. Barely to touch royal sconces with the holy unguent, as
sometimes now practiced, was formerly insufficient. Baker, in his
Chronicles, says Richard I. the hero of the Crusades, “put off all his
garments from his middle upwards but only his shirt, which was open on
the shoulders, that he might be anointed. Then the Archbishop of
Canterbury anointed him in three places: on the head, on the shoulder,
and on the right arm.” The same writer gives the particulars at the
ceremony of crowning Richard II.—a child of eleven years: “After a
sermon the king took his oath, (!) and then the archbishop blessed the
king, which done, he took off his garments and stripped him into his
shift; then he anointed his hands, head, breast, shoulders, and the
joynts of his arms with the sacred oil.” Henry IV. (of England,) says
Froissart, was “stripped of all his state before the altar, naked to his
shirt, and was then anointed and consecrated at six places, that is to
say, on the head, the breast, the two shoulders before and behind, on
the back and the hands.” [chap. cxvi.] Henry’s title to the crown was a
very dubious one—perhaps on that account a greater quantity of the
consecrating ointment was expended on him and a larger portion of his
body exposed to its influence.
It seems that much the same process was gone through with in the case of
queens! Mary, of Smithfield memory, was crowned and anointed by Gardiner
“with all rites and ceremonies of old accustomed.” Similar language is
used by Baker in the case of Elizabeth; so also of King Jamie and his
wife: they were “crowned together and anointed at Westminster.” The
pageant of Charles I.’s coronation, got up by Laud, was, as may be
supposed, a great affair. Obsolete customs were introduced, as well as
old forms of prayer. When the king had taken an oath “to protect and
defend the bishops and the churches under their government,” his robes
were taken off “and _offered at the altar_; the king stood for a while,
stripped to his doublet and hose of white satin; then, led by the
archbishop and the Bishop of St. David’s, he was placed in the chair of
the coronation, having a close canopy spread over him; and while the
archbishop anointed his head, shoulders, arms and hands with a costly
oyntment, the quire sung an anthem of these words:
‘Zadock, the priest, anointed King Solomon.’”
So Charles was stripped to his hose and doublet when the crown was put
on his head, as well as when he lost both his head and his crown. In him
the magic shield which the scriptural passage ‘touch not mine anointed’
had for ages thrown around kings, and which some of these gentry used
with effect in silencing the murmurings of their oppressed people, was
shattered to the winds.
The blasphemous application of such passages of scripture as the
foregoing to the vilest tyrants, was but a small part of that atrocious
system of ecclesiastical delusions which prevailed through the dark
ages. The monarch swore when crowned to ‘protect bishops,’ and they,
from Dunstan downwards, returned the compliment. To preserve their
immunities and extend their influence, they performed the part of pagan
priests and made the oracles speak what they and the king pleased. But
they did more: through their instrumentality it was that almost every
utensil employed in coronations had a miraculous origin—was fabricated
in heaven by angelic artists or beatified saints, and sent direct for
the use of ‘his sacred majesty’ by a special embassy, consisting of one
or more celestial messengers! The _ampoule_ or small bottle containing
the holy oil seems to have been most distinguished in this respect.
When Clovis of France embraced Christianity, he was baptized in the
Church at Rheims in a consecrated lavatory, (on Christmas day, A. D.
496.) Three thousand of his people followed his example, and with him
wore white robes for eight days. Now so great was the joy in heaven at
their conversion that an angel appeared to a holy hermit, and deposited
with him for the king’s use, “a royal standard adorned with the
oriflamme, a shield sown with the fleur de lis, and an ampoule of sacred
oil.” This celestial bottle is (or was in the last century) preserved in
the cathedral church of Rheims, and is still used in the coronation of
French kings. “On appelle la Sainte Ampoule, certaine petite bouteille
venue du ciel, où il y a de l’huile qui sert à sacrer les Rois de
France, laquelle on garde bien soigneusement dans l’Abbaye de saint Remi
de Rheims.”—[_Dict. de Trevoux and Mazeray._]
[Illustration:
_Plate 5_ _Middle Ages & Oriental_
_Lith of E Jones 128 Fulton S^t N.Y._
]
When Charles was conducted by the Maid of Orleans to Rheims and crowned
in her presence, the holy oil and miraculous ampoule performed their
part in the ceremony, as historians have taken care to inform us.
Hincmarc, Archbishop of Rheims, in the time of Charles the Bald,
declares (in his life of St. Remi) that the precious vial was sent from
heaven by a white dove. Many French disputations have been written on
the miracle, pro and con! The English ampoule (still used) was also of
celestial origin, having been brought down by the Virgin Mary herself,
and presented by her ‘to St. Thomas of Canterbury [Becket] when he was
in France.’ It was, observes Mazeray, of lapis, with a golden eagle on
the top and enriched with pearls and diamonds.
Now the consecrated fluid was not poured directly from the ampoule on
the candidate for royalty, but into a _spoon_, whence it was transferred
to its destination. As we presume our readers may gather a few facts
from these speculations, with which they were not previously acquainted,
it may be that some now learn for the first time, that besides crowns,
orbs, sceptres, swords, globes, spheres, staffs, cups, plates, rings,
and other royal rattletraps, which constitute what is known as ‘the
regalia and crown jewels,’ the spoon holds a distinguished place! To
those who admire such things it is shown, with the articles enumerated
above, in the Tower of London at a shilling a head, and indeed to those
who admire them not, at the same price.
Lord Herbert in his history of Henry VIII. mentions among other ‘notable
trumperies’ by which the public were deluded, ‘the _penknife_ and
_boots_ of Becket, with a piece of his _shirt_.’ Large sums, it seems,
were received from ladies in a certain condition for permission to
handle the last article.
The reader will now turn to Plate IV. _Figs. 1, 2_, represent the
English coronation spoon, [from Shaw’s splendid work, “Dresses and
Decorations of the Middle Ages, from the seventh to the seventeenth
centuries.”] If drawn by Shaw to the full size, its length is 9 inches,
that of the bowl 2¼, and its width 1¾ inches. The whole is of gold, and
whether made by a mortal goldsmith or not, a fine piece of work. The
bowl is thin, with an elegant arabesque pattern engraved on its inner
surface. At the broadest part of the handle are four pearls. The enamel
with which it was once enriched is destroyed. There is a slight
elevation or ridge dividing the bowl. When used a portion of the
consecrating fluid being poured into it, the officiating bishop dips two
fingers, one into each cavity of the bowl, and transfers what sticks to
them to the head and other parts of the royal neophyte, who thus
receives unction as a sign of investiture of regal power.
Hence the spoon is not the least useful of the numerous insignia
employed on such occasions, and we may fairly presume it performs a more
laborious part than any of them when the ceremonies are over and the
actors are seated at dinner. In unison with this there is one feature in
the official implement which we must be excused for noticing. It will be
seen that the upper part of the handle is twisted and the end terminates
with a hemispherical button precisely like a punch spoon. This beautiful
specimen of ancient art is in truth the oldest spoon of that kind known.
Whether the maker designed a practical joke or not, it is not a bad one,
considering the history of royal carousals, from Belshazzar and
Alexander to George IV—the accomplished companion of modern Falstaffs,
Pistols and Quicklys. Of all men, kings have been least stinted with
punch or sack; few persons are known to have indulged more in it or got
it on easier terms.
There is some uncertainty respecting the date of this royal spoon.
Cromwell and the Long Parliament made sad havoc among ‘the baubles,’ as
that irreverend man named the regalia. It seems most of them disappeared
during the civil wars—probably melted down and the proceeds applied to
the public service. When Charles II. returned, it is said, his
inauguration was delayed on account of the absence of these necessary
articles belonging to the ceremony! Shaw thinks some of the old ones
were concealed and recovered, and among them the spoon. Its antiquity he
says is undoubted. He supposes it to have been in use since the twelfth
century.
Of coronations, their expense, inutility and puerilities, an English
writer has well remarked, that they are only calculated to superinduce
in the individual vanity upon vanity, and are characteristic of
imperfect civilization.
We have not done with royal spoons:—In 1422, Henry V. the Hal of
Shakespeare, died, and was succeeded by his son, an infant. As Henry VI.
grew up he exhibited indications of a feeble mind. Harmless and passive,
he was wholly unfit for controlling the destinies of his country and the
ambition of its warlike nobles. His reign was one of perpetual domestic
war. He had, says Sir R. Baker, virtues enough to make him a saint, but
not to make him a god, as kings are said to be gods. He was fitter for a
priest than a king, and for a sacrifice than a priest. A mere instrument
in the hands of the ministers and his masculine wife, Margaret of Anjou,
his fate was that of a shuttlecock, tossed to and fro and treated with
contempt by the adherents of both the white and red roses. Repeatedly
taken prisoner by one party or the other in battle, he at last ended his
melancholy life in the Tower.
After the sanguinary battle of Hexham, in Northumberland, the fate of
his family was distressing. Margaret with their son fled into a wood,
where they were rudely seized and plundered of their jewels by thieves.
While the robbers quarreled about the division of the plunder, the
miserable captives crept unperceived into the thickest of the forest,
where they sank down overcome with darkness, distress and fatigue. One
of the robbers subsequently found them; to him Margaret made herself
known, and appealed to his generosity for protection, especially for the
son of the king. He was amazed at the strange occurrence, swore to
protect them, and kept his word. He concealed them until an opportunity
offered for conducting them to the coast, whence they sailed to
Flanders.
How Henry escaped is not very well known. By the vigilance of friends he
lay concealed in different parts of the country for twelve months.
Shifting from place to place, he at length was seized while at dinner at
Wadington Hall, in Lincolnshire, and carried to the tower. Ere being
taken away he left with his host his _inkhorn_, one of the last articles
retained about his person. It is of leather, like a knife sheath, with
three cells, one for the ink and two for pens. It is ornamented with
much elegance, and was worn suspended from the girdle. Before reaching
Wadington, he was hid nine days at Bolton Hall; and here he left with
the proprietor, as a token of his friendship, his boots, one glove (or a
pair) and _his spoon_. [_See Antiq. Repertory, III._ 168.]
_Fig. 3_, _Plate IV._ represents this interesting relic of the fifteenth
century. It was we presume of gold, though the account does not say so,
but merely that its length was 6¼ inches. The handle is short, and in
its union to the small end of the bowl resembles both Roman and Egyptian
spoons. The handle is a plain cylinder capped at its extremity with a
molding and a hexagonal finial. Although void of ornament, this spoon
exhibits considerable taste in its contour. Its dimensions, as will have
been perceived from its length, did not exceed those of a modern dessert
spoon. If made for Henry, it dates from the time of Jack Cade, Joan of
Arc, the great Earl of Warwick, and the introduction of Printing. The
circumstance of a king carrying his spoon about with him may strike some
readers as singular, but the practice was not uncommon in olden times.
Almost every wealthy individual had a portable case containing one and a
knife, to which in after times a fork was added. Even guests took their
own implements when invited to a feast. Kings more than other people
have always been particular in having feeding apparatus exclusively for
their own use: the custom is an eastern one. Spoons which nourish royal
palates must not enter meaner mouths. _Cadenat_ was the old French term
for the portable case in which was secured a prince’s knife and spoon.
It was afterwards written _cadenas_. The case was often of gold or
silver gilt, and contained minute receptacles for salt, pepper, and
other condiments. From the following extract it will be seen that kings
and nobles used such pocket conveniences in the beginning of the last
century, as well as in the previous ones:—
“Cadenas est aussi une espèce d’assiette carrée ou l’on serre la
cuillière, la fourchette et le couteau. Un des côtés est retroussé et
élevé de deux doigts, avec un petit courvercle où l’on met du sel, du
sucre et du poivre. On s’en servoit _autrefois_ chez les Rois et les
Princes. C’est _maintenant_ une espèce de coffret d’or ou de vermeil
doré, où l’on met le couteau, la cuillière, la fourchette, &c. qu’on
sert à la table des Rois et des Princes.” [_Old Dict. de Trevoux._]
_Figs. 4_, _5_, and _10_, _Plate IV._ are from ‘Ackerman’s Designs for
Gold and Silver Smiths,’ publish-without any description. We know not
the source whence they were derived, but as they were associated with
‘Apostle Spoons,’ known to be ancient, we suppose they are of the same
character. The handle of _Fig. 4_ is of twisted wire, folded into two
knots, as in _Fig. 6_. The bowl, of a fanciful form, differs from every
other we have met with. _Fig. 5_—an elaborate specimen, and well suited
to a monastery or abbot. The heart at one extremity and the cross at the
other are quite in character with the ecclesiastical tastes of the
middle ages, and would afford matter for interesting reflections. _Fig.
10_, a salt spoon, partakes of the same religious character. It presents
a motto, the initial and arms of the owner—acknowledged features of many
ancient “=spuuns=.” Moral sentences and maxims of prudence are painted
by the Chinese on most of their furniture and utensils—on tea pots, chop
stick cases, combs, apparatus for striking fire, cups, lanterns, vases,
&c. and might be advantageously imitated. _Fig. 6_—an ivory spoon of the
sixteenth century. It is French, and preserved along with a knife and
two pronged fork in the collection of the Louvre.
APOSTLE SPOONS.—_Fig. 7_, _Plate IV._ represents a class of implements
intimately allied with the social and religious customs of former times.
Nothing smooths the asperities of life like friendship. When evinced by
kind offices and gifts, it unlocks the human breast and excites within
it the holiest affections. All people learn this truth, and no lesson is
more readily understood by juveniles; the pure and buoyant joys they
feel on receiving novel or rich presents, may be portrayed on the mental
tablet but not on paper. Now it is a fact that for ages the very _first_
gift which boys and girls received, consisted of one or more
spoons—these being the established presents of sponsors at christenings;
hence the implements may be said to have not only fed the bodies of
children but to have given them a taste of the sweetest of mental
pleasures—indicating to the young travellers that enter this rugged
world one of the pleasantest means of passing through it.
The Greeks, Romans, and older people than either, held family feasts
when a child was named. Relatives and friends attended as witnesses, and
made presents of various articles to the little stranger. The pouring
on, or immersion in, water, (baptism) at the nomination of children, is
also of heathen origin. It was practiced both in the old world and the
new. When a child among the Astecs was to be named, a priestess
sprinkled its lips and bosom with water, and invoked the goddess
Cioacoatl that original sin might be thus removed and the child born
anew. On these occasions friends and relatives brought presents of
dresses and ornaments suitable to the circumstances of the parents and
wants of the child.
In the earlier ages of Christianity sponsors provided a frock or shirt
in which the infant was christened—hence named the ‘christening shirt.’
Its value of course depended on the circumstances of the donor: when he
or she was wealthy, it was often trimmed with silk and gold. The Anglo
Saxons continued this custom for many ages, but it subsequently went out
of fashion, and the older one of giving small articles of plate
succeeded.
When spoons were given they were called _Apostle spoons_, because the
handle of each was carved into the figure of an apostle with his
appropriate symbol, as Peter with the keys, Andrew with his cross, &c.
Wealthy godfathers generally gave a _dozen_, each being named after one
of the twelve it was designed to represent. People, whose circumstances
did not admit of giving so many, or who were penurious, compounded by
sending the _four_ evangelists; while those who could not do better
ingeniously presented a _single_ spoon, with the effigies of the saint
after whom the infant was named, or under whose protection it had been
placed by its parents.
This practice was in imitation of the heathen, who introduced figures of
their gods upon almost every utensil—spoons, as we have seen, as well as
the rest. The idea as adopted in the middle ages was excellent. A child
no sooner learned to feed himself—to use his own spoons—than he began to
acquire a knowledge of scriptural and ecclesiastical biography. Every
spoonful of food he received, conveyed, or might convey a useful lesson
to his mind. The custom might be revived with advantage—at any rate
important truths or facts connected with scientific individuals or with
science and the arts, might thus be communicated to, and indelibly
impressed upon the minds of the young.
Allusions to Apostle spoons are common. In the play of _Henry VIII. Act
5, Scene 2_, Shakespeare makes the king say to Cranmer that he must
stand godfather to the young princess, Elizabeth. The Archbishop
expresses his unfitness for so great an honor, upon which Harry,
bantering him, says he is afraid of the expense of the usual gift to a
godchild: “Come, come, my lord, you’d spare your _spoons_.” In _Scene 4_
the directions are, “Enter trumpets, lord mayor, Cranmer, dukes, &c. two
noblemen bearing great standing bowls for the _christening gifts_.”
In a manuscript of L’Estrange, preserved in the British Museum, an
anecdote is related of Shakespeare himself and Ben Jonson directly in
point. Shakespeare was godfather to one of Ben’s children; and after the
christening, being in a deep study, Jonson cheerily asked him why he was
so melancholy? “Ben,” said he, “I have been considering what would be
the fittest gift for my godchild, and I have resolved it at last.” “I
pri’thee, what?” said Ben. “I’ faith, then, Ben,” answered Shakespeare,
“I’ll give him a good dozen of _latten spoons_, and thou shalt translate
them;” an example of friendly pleasantry betwen the two wits—the word
‘latten’ being a play upon Latin. Latten, sometimes written _laton_, was
formerly applied to tinned iron, or articles made of it, but more
generally to brass, of which examples will be found in these pages.
Ben Jonson, Beaumont, Fletcher, and other dramatic writers, refer to
christening or Apostle spoons. Thus also Congreve:—“_Angelica_—Will you
lend me your coach or I’ll go on—nay I’ll declare how you prophesied
popery was coming, only because the butler had mislaid some of the
Apostle’s spoons, and thought they were lost—away went religion and
spoon meat together.”—[_Comedy of Love for Love, Act 2, Scene 1._]
Mr. Hone, in his Every Day Book, [vol. i. 177,] has given a
representation of a dozen in his own possession, and besides the
anecdote of Shakespeare just recited, quotes the following lines from a
poem published in 1666, in which the custom of giving spoons is stated
to have been on the decline:
“Formerly when they used to troul
Gilt bowls of sack, they _gave_ the _bowl_,
_Two spoons_ at least—an use _ill kept_;
’Tis well if now our own be left.”
The spoon figured on Plate IV. is in the writer’s possession. It is
larger than those described by Hone, the bowl being 2¼ inches wide and
nearly 3 inches long. The handle is 5¼ inches in length, including the
figure of the apostle which is _gilt_. The hat or flat cap is common to
this class of spoons, and was probably designed, as Hone suggests, to
preserve the features from effacement; but this was not its only use;
when the figure was not sufficiently characteristic of the particular
_one_ of the twelve whom it was intended to represent, an additional
symbol of him was impressed on the crown of the cap; as an eagle, a
dove, an ox, &c. emblematical of the evangelists. The weight of this
spoon is 2¼ ounces. The only mark stamped on it is an X with what appear
the remains of a crown above it, but it is very illegible. The face of
the punch was a circle three eighths of an inch in diameter. The
impression has been struck twice on the back of the handle and once
inside of the bowl, (the usual place in old spoons.) The implement was
forged, except the image of the apostle, which was cast and soldered on
the handle. It is not of English manufacture, since neither three
leopards, the ancient government stamp, nor a rampant lion, the modern
one, is impressed upon it.
These implements are interesting, as showing the influence of religion
on the arts in mediæval times—how ingeniously ecclesiastical matters
were interwoven with almost every thing—how even a spoon was made to
infuse religious truths into the minds of children while it conveyed pap
to their mouths.
Without being aware of the origin of the custom, says Hone in his
entertaining miscellany, many persons in Europe continue to present
spoons at christenings, though no longer adorned with imagery.
One remark more ere Apostle spoons are dismissed: It was a custom of
remote antiquity to get up convivial feasts at the common expense of the
guests, each individual contributing his proportion either in money or
victuals. There is an allusion to it in the first book of the Odyssey:—
* * * * * Behold I here
A banquet or a nuptial? For these
Meet not _by contribution_ to regale.—_Cowper._
The custom may be traced down to present times. There is a direct
reference to it in the Spanish proverb: _Huésped tardio no viene
manivacio_—‘a late guest comes not sluggishly nor empty handed;’ the
presents he brings will account for his delay. In the middle ages
donations were invariably sent by friends to feasts, whether social or
religious. Another pleasing trait of primitive manners was the exchange
of tokens of friendship between a host and an esteemed guest at parting.
Sometimes a piece of money or other small article was broken in two, one
piece being retained by each individual as a symbol and pledge of mutual
hospitality. From wealthy houses a stranger of rank was seldom allowed
to depart without a valuable gift, such as his condition or the
disposition and ability of the donor might suggest; as a faulchion, a
walking stick, vest, or tunic, &c. but more generally a golden or silver
vase or cup. Instances abound in Homer.
It was also a practice for princes to present to each guest the goblet
he drank from at table. Of the nine thousand individuals who feasted
with Alexander at Susa, every one received a golden cup. The Roman
emperors and patricians occasionally complimented their friends in the
same way. Suetonius informs us that Claudius having suspected a visitor
of stealing a golden cup, caused him to be served at another time with
an earthenware one. Sometimes the plate used by visitors at a feast was
sent home to them on the following day—one of the most acceptable tokens
of the host’s regard.
In later times guests did not wait to be presented with, but actually
helped themselves to articles of plate! At entertainments given on the
installations of civil or ecclesiastical dignitaries, scrambles for
silver cups, dishes, salt cellars and spoons occurred just as they have
in recent times at coronations. The practice became so common that it
was at last claimed by the robbers as a right, and was positively
recognized as such by law! It became interwoven with the tenures by
which lands and privileges were held! We have an example at page 80 of a
lord of the manor being entitled to carry off four dishes, two
salt-cellars, a cup, a wine pot, a spoon, and two wash bowls (all of
silver) from a bishop’s table; to which may be added a much later one:
When Dudly North was elected Sheriff of London (in the last century) and
knighted, he gave the usual official banquet, and selected for the
purpose one of the largest halls in the city. Several public bodies
contributed to the expense. The Middle Templars presented one hundred
guineas. In North’s life it is said, “he had diverse very considerable
presents from friends and relations, besides the compliments of the
several companies, inviting themselves and wives to dinner—dropping
their guineas, and _taking Apostle spoons_ in the room of them; which,
with what they ate and drank, and such as came in the shape of wives,
made but an indifferent bargain.”
Another application of the spoon will hardly be anticipated by every
reader—its employment in the administration of the sacrament. The
introduction of the implement for this purpose is ascribed by old
ecclesiastical writers to St. Chrysostom; who, it is said, designed it
to prevent effusion of the chalice. The Greek Church does not allow of
_pouring_ wine into the cup; it is therefore transferred in _spoons_.
The practice is different at Rome, but as the pope claims to be the head
of both Greek and Latin churches, he combines in his person the peculiar
customs of both.
_Fig. 11_, _Plate IV._ represents the golden spoon used when he
celebrates high mass ‘in both languages,’ and with the ceremonies common
to both churches. It is from the first volume of Motraye’s Travels,
where it is figured of full size. The bowl is 2¼ inches wide and 3 long;
the length of handle and bowl 11½ inches. With this spoon the deacon and
sub-deacon, who are generally cardinal priests, sup what remains in the
chalice after the pope has communicated.
There can be no harm in stating here how the pope conveys the wine to
his own mouth, since he neither puts the spoon nor the cup to his lips.
As the wine is believed to be transubstantiated into real blood, it is
deemed more seemly to suck than drink it; and hence the ‘sanguisuchello
or blood-sucker,’ a small golden and highly ornamented tube, 13 inches
long, through which his holiness imbibes the consecrated fluid. [See its
figure and description in Ewbank’s Hydraulics.] At the celebration of
high mass in the cathedral church of Paris, a similar instrument is
used. [_Dict. de Trevoux, Art. Chalumeau._] But the honor of using it is
deemed so great that permission to do so is scarcely ever obtained.
Motraye tells us the king of Portugal was exceedingly zealous in
promoting the splendor of the church, but it was not till after many
solicitations that Clement XI. consented that the Archbishop of Lisbon
should celebrate mass pontifically with papal paraphernalia, but the
spoon and sanguisuchello were expressly excepted!
This curious instrument is not of modern date. The Queen of Oviedo and
Asturia, A. D. 777, presented to one of the churches in Spain, dedicated
to St. Thyrsus, ‘a silver chalice and paten, a wash hand basin and a
_pipe_;’ which last, says Butler, in his lives of the Saints, was ‘a
silver pipe or quill to suck up the blood of Christ at the communion,
such as the pope sometimes uses; it sucks it up as a nose draws up air.’
The use of the instrument was not formerly confined to priests; _i. e._
not until the council of Constance took away the wine altogether from
the laity and gave it exclusively to the clergy. Peter Martyr,
complaining of the wealth and pride of the Roman clergy, quotes Beatus
Rhenanus respecting ‘certaine silver pypes, by the which prophane men,
whom they call the laitie, sucked out of the challice in the holy
supper, as though, forsooth, out of the challice itself the faithful
might not drink.’ The device was probably designed as a check—and an
ingenious one it was—to rude and ignorant converts in the dark ages, to
prevent them from taking too freely of the cup.
[Illustration:
_Plate 6_ _Middle Ages & Modern_
_Lith of E. Jones 128 Fulton S^t. N.Y._
]
We have seen the spoon treasured up among the regalia of kings, and here
we find it with crosiers, tiaras, sacred slippers, pastoral staffs, the
sword of St. Peter, keys of heaven, and other holy matters belonging to
the head of the church.
The next spoon was for a different purpose than any yet described; and
so far from being a religious application of the implement, many persons
consider it a wicked one; but sinful or not, it is our duty to notice
it. Perhaps the reader’s attention in arriving thus far in this long
chapter begins to flag, and he mentally exclaims ‘would it were ended.’
Well, there is little to add, and if he will but imitate some drowsy
people at church, by taking a sternutatory, he will arrive at the close
without feeling fatigue or ascribing his heaviness to the writer. There
are persons whose physical constitutions are so delicate that mere
thoughts of taking snuff, (and medicines generally,) produce the same
effect as inhaling the powder itself: now, if the imagination of the
reader has a similar influence over his system, he can have no
disposition to oscitate while finishing the chapter; on the contrary,
the greatest obstacle to his progress will arise from a disposition to
sneeze.
Spoons were formerly much in vogue for taking _snuff_! Gentlemen carried
the powder in a small bottle, the neck of which was closed by a cork or
stopper, through which passed the shank of a small spoon. Sometimes the
handle of the spoon formed the head of the stopper. See _Figs. 8_ and
_9_, _Plate IV._ for a specimen of these precursors of the snuff-box. In
those days the expression was, ‘take a _spoonful_,’ instead of ‘a
_pinch_.’ Old people yet living remember this use of the spoon. The
stopper in the cut was screwed into the neck.
The practice was most probably derived from China, for snuff is there
generally carried in vials or cruets by the wealthy, and drawn out with
a spoon. In Mr. Dunn’s celebrated Chinese collection, recently in
Philadelphia, but now in London, there is a porcelain snuff bottle of
great beauty, with a stopper of red cornelian, and a spoon of tortoise
shell. [_Descriptive Catalogue, Phila._ 1839, p. 68.] ‘A mandarin,’ says
Staunton, ‘is seldom without a small ornamented vial to hold his snuff,
of which he occasionally pours a quantity equal to a pinch upon the back
of his left hand, between the thumb and index, and carrying to his nose,
he snuffs up several times a day.’ Powdered cinnabar is often employed
for the same purpose, as opium and odorous ingredients are for smoking.
The emperor of China distributed among other presents to the members of
the Dutch embassy (of 1799) ‘little bags for tobacco, and little glass
bottles to hold snuff.’ One of these would be taken by an American or
European as a smelling bottle. With the spoon, says Dunn, they take out
the pungent dust and place it on the back of the left hand, near the
lower thumb joint, whence it is snuffed up by the olfactories to perform
its titillating office.—[_Catalogue_, p. 11.]
With the bottle, snuff-taking was a more cleanly practice than the
present one of thrusting the finger and thumb into a box, and besmearing
the person and pockets with the contents. Laws had not then been thought
of, by which, as was subsequently enacted in some parts of Europe, those
were to lose their noses who ‘fed them with the prohibited food.’
Howell mentions in his letters that rustic laborers and even
maid-servants in his time were accustomed to snuff, taking out their
boxes of ‘smutchin’ and conveying it to their nostrils by a _quill_. The
Scotch highlanders take great pride in the ‘mull’ or spiral horn, which
is supported as a personal ornament from the neck or belt, and from
which they take the snuff either with a pen, quill, or _spoon_ of tin,
brass or silver, suspended by a small chain from the mull.
Pocket handkerchiefs were never very common with the Gael, and yet
something of the kind seems indispensable to inveterate snuff takers;
but men in every clime, when destitute of artificial conveniences, are
soon furnished by nature with appropriate substitutes. It is so with the
people of North Britain. Along with the spoon there dangles at their
breast a _hare’s foot_, with which they brush off superfluous particles
from the regions of the nostrils and lips. The sensations produced by
the use of this natural duster, it is said, are far more delicate and
pleasing than the application of a bandana.
The people of Madagascar use snuff, but in a manner very different from
inhabitants of the western world. These take it at the nose, but the
Malagasy prefers the mouth. Putting a spoonful between the under lip and
the teeth, he sucks it at leisure, affirming that a more lasting and
exquisite pleasure is derived from it _there_ than from momentary
sniffs. Snuff was used by the ancient Mexicans.
_Nose powder_ or snuff is mentioned in an ancient burlesque poem, on the
laying of a ghost, inserted by Walter Scott, in the appendix to his
introduction to the minstrelsy of the Scottish border. The ingredients
required by the exorcist were as numerous and select as those used by
the witches in Macbeth. Besides plants and holy water, there were
fox-tails, teeth of an old horse, crabs’ claws, a dog’s ear, blue wool,
a pig’s tooth, the tail of a sow, &c. and “of _neis powder_ ane grit
loik.”