ancient and the modern Egyptians, when seated at table. But, previous
to doing so, there is a little philological matter I would fain settle,
as far as so indifferent an authority may presume to do so, and which
may interest, not merely wine-bibbers, but etymologists, and zealous
correspondents to “Notes and Queries.” It may be very briefly discussed.
I have noticed, in another page, the fact that nearly all our
old-fashioned drinking phrases are but corruptions of foreign terms.
A “carouse,” for instance, is derived from “_gar aus_,” “altogether
empty,” sufficiently indicative of what a reveller was to do with
his full glass. There is one--a rather vulgar term--of the origin of
which, however, I have never heard any account. But I think I may have
discovered it in a little German poem, by Pfarrius, called “_Der Trunk
aus dem Stiefel_,” and which, thus roughly done into English, may serve
to show
THE ORIGIN OF “BOOSEY.”
In the Rheingraf’s hall were of Knights a score,
And they drained their goblets o’er and o’er,
And the torches they flung a lurid glow
On the Knights who were drinking there below.
“Ho, ho!” said the Rheingraf, “Sir Knights, I find,
Our courier has left a boot behind;
He who can empty it off at a breath,--
The Hufflesheim village is his till death.”
Then laughing, he filled the boot to the rim,
Till the bright red wine flowed over the brim;
And said, as he mark’d their sparkling eyes,--
“Good luck to you, Knights--you know the prize!”
Then Johann von Sponheim sat silent by,
But pushed his neighbour to rise and try;
And Meinhart, his neighbour, could nothing do
But scowl at the boot, and sit silent too.
Old Florsheim, he nervously stroked his beard;
And Kunz von Stromberg spoke never a word;
And even the giant Chaplain stared
At the monster boot, as though he were scared.
Then Boos von Waldeck did loudly call,--
“Here, hand me that thimble!” and “Health to all!”
And then, in one breath, to the very last drain,
He drank, and fell back on his seat again,
And said, “O, Sir Rheingraf, it were my mind,
Had the fellow his other boot left behind,
To empty that, too, at a breath; and take
For my prize Norheim village, near the lake.”
Then loud laughed they all at Waldeck’s good jest,--
Of all landless tipplers, till then, the best;
But the Rheingraf, he kept his knightly word,--
And Boos of the Boot was Hufflesheim’s lord!
If therein be not the origin of “boosey,” why, let the lexicographers
look to it. But my readers will have had enough of these uncouth names.
I have now to introduce them to hosts with names equally unmusical;
but, luckily, we have now to do more with acts than appellations,
and therewith pass we to golden Egypt, and her well-spread boards. I
will only first add another word respecting spirits, as a beverage.
All authorities are agreed, that reason has no more deadly foe than
alcohol. The effects of the latter are well described by Dr. Winslow,
whom we have previously quoted in the matter of mental dietetics,--a
gentleman who might, with justice, have given a plump denial to the
remark of Macbeth, had it been addressed to Dr. Winslow, when the
royal patient uncivilly told his medical adviser, “Thou canst not
minister to a mind diseased.” Dr. Winslow says: “The alcoholic elements
introduced into the blood, and brought into immediate contact with
the tissues of different organs, will derange the functions which
they are severally destined to perform; and the amount and character
of the mischief so produced will correspond with, and be modified by,
the peculiarities of their individual organic structure. With these
facts before us, when we consider the delicate structure of the brain,
as revealed to us by the progress of microscopic anatomy, we must be
prepared for the physical and mental derangement which must arise,
either from the alcohol itself, or its elements, being brought into
direct contact with the vesicular neurine or granular matter entering
into the composition of its white and grey substance. According to our
most recent physiological views, the vesicular matter is the source
of nervous power, and associated, as the material instrument of the
mind, with all its manifestations, whether in the simple exercise
of perception, or the more complicated operations of the thinking
principle. We are then to conceive the simple or organic structure
dedicated to this high function brought into contact with irritating
and noxious elements. The result must obviously be a disturbance in the
manifestations of the mind proportioned to the organic derangements so
produced; and without, therefore, taking a materialistic view of the
changes which take place, the obliteration of some, and the derangement
of other of the intellectual faculties, are hereby satisfactorily
accounted for. It is certain, that when the circulation in the grey
matter of the convolutions is retarded by congestion, or accelerated
by unwonted stimulation, there is a corresponding state of stupor or
mental activity, amounting even to delirium, produced; and, indeed, it
has been suggested, by some of our most eminent physiologists, that
every idea of the mind is associated with a corresponding change in
some part, or parts, of the vesicular surface.” And if they who sit
“amid bumpers brightening,” could only hold this truth in sober memory,
there would be less imbibed at night, and more sunshine in their souls
on the morrow. And now let us pass to the cradle of wisdom, the ancient
Misraim, where, despite the national boast, folly was, perhaps, as much
deified as in any locality upon earth.
Yes, let us now to ancient Egypt, where, as good old Herbert so finely
expresses it,--
“Men did sow
Gardens of gods, which every year did grow
Fresh and fine deities. They were at great cost
Who for a god clearly a sallet lost!
O, what a thing is man devoid of grace,
Adoring garlic with a humble face!
Begging his food of that which he may eat,
Starving the while he worshippeth his meat!
Who makes a root a god, how low is he,
If God and man be severed infinitely!
What wretchedness can give him any room,
Whose house is foul, while he adores his broom?”
THE TABLE OF THE ANCIENT AND MODERN EGYPTIANS.
If neither the grave of the Pharaohs nor physiology will, nor Dr.
Hincke nor Chevalier Bunsen can, reveal to us the secret of the
origin of the Egyptians, we, at all events, know that they were
majestically-minded with respect to the table. The science of living
was well understood by them; and the science of killing was splendidly
rewarded; seeing that the soldiery, besides liberal pay, allowance of
land, and exemption from tribute, received daily five pounds of bread,
two of meat, and a quart of wine. With such rations they ought not to
have been beaten by the Persians, when the latter had so degenerated,
that their almost sole national boast was, that they could drink deeper
than any other men, without seeming half so drunk. The Egyptians, too,
were tolerably stout hands, and heads to boot, at the wine-pot; and
there were few among even their Kings who, like the King of Castile,
would have choked of thirst, because the grand butler was not by to
hand the cup.
The pulse and fruits of Egypt, the fish of the Nile, the corn
waving in its fields, which needed neither sun nor rain to exhibit
productiveness,--all these were the envy, and partly the support, of
surrounding nations. The corn was especially prized; and a reported
threat of St. Athanasius to obstruct the importation of Egyptian corn
into Constantinople, threw the Emperor Constantine into a fit of
mingled fright, fever, and fury.
An Egyptian Squire commonly possessed a hundred or two cows and oxen,
three hundred rams, four times that number of goats, and five times
that number of swine, for the supply of his own little household. The
apartments in the mansions of these gentlemen were beautifully painted,
and were furnished with tables, chairs, and couches which have supplied
models for the upholstery of modern times. They were lovers of music,
and willingly suspended conversation at their feasts, in order to
listen to the “concord of sweet sounds.”
Cleopatra was but a febrile creature; but she sat down with good
appetite, and love in her eyes, to the banquet given by Antony, at
which fifteen whole boars smoked upon the board. But Cleopatra, frail
and fragile, like many thin people, ate heartily; and when she herself
treated Cæsar, it was with such a banquet that slaves died to procure
it, and the guests who were present wondered at the rarities of which
they partook. There was every thing there that gastronomy could think
of, except mutton,--an exception in favour of the divine Ammon with the
ram-like head. I believe that even roast beef and plum-pudding were not
lacking; for these delicacies were popular in Thebes, as was broiled
and salted goose, with good brown stout, strong barley-wine, to cheer
the spirits and assist digestion.
Excessively proud, too, were the old Egyptians of their culinary
ability. When the Egyptians, under their King, attacked Ochus,
Sovereign of Persia, the former were thoroughly beaten, and their
Monarch was captured. Ochus treated him as courteously as the Black
Prince did John of France, and invited him to his own table, at the
simplicity of which the Egyptian laughed outright. “Prince,” said
the uncourteous captive, “if you would really like to know how happy
Kings should feed, just let my cooks--if you have caught the rascals,
as you have me--prepare you a true Egyptian supper.” Ochus consented,
enjoyed himself amazingly at the banquet, and then, turning to his
Egyptian prisoner, punished him by saying, “Why, what a sorry fool
art thou, whose ambition has lost thee such repasts, and reduced thee
to henceforth envy, as thou wilt, the moderate meals that suffice us
honest Persians!” The implied threat was worse than the sentiment.
The dinner-table of the Egyptians was sometimes covered with a linen
cloth imitating palm-leaves, sometimes left uncovered. Plates and
knives, but not forks, were in common use. In place of the latter
were short-handled spoons of gold, silver, ivory, tortoise-shell, or
alabaster. The dining-table was circular: ornamented rolls of wheaten
bread were placed before each guest; and supplies of the same were
heaped in gay-looking baskets on the side-board, where also were kept
the wine, the water, ewer, and napkins, which slaves, fair or swarthy,
Greek or Negro, were ready to present at the bidding of the guests.
Previous to sitting down to the repast, the company put a spur to their
appetite, and a cordial to their stomach, in the shape of pungent
vegetables or strong _liqueurs_. Glasses for beer, decanters and
goblets for wine, appear among the ancient pictorial illustrations of
Egyptian table-furniture. It would seem, too, from the position of
those at table, that they rose from their chairs to challenge each
other to drink, to propose toasts or healths, or to inflict speeches
upon the vexed ears of compulsory listeners.
In these “counterfeit presentments” of Egyptian life may be seen the
entire science of epicureanism, and its practical application put into
action. The poultry-yard, the slaughter-houses, the markets and the
kitchen, are so graphically depicted, that we see at once, that the art
of making life comfortable was one most profoundly respected by the
ancient and mysterious people. The selecting, purchasing, and killing
are vividly portrayed. The cooking is carried on in a large bronze
caldron, on a tripod, over a fire, which is stirred by an under-cook,
with a poker that may have been bought any day at Rippon and Burton’s.
The butcher is there, too, in order decently to dissect the fowls;
and our ancient friend carries before him the identical steel for
sharpening his knife, which may be seen any day hanging from the waists
of the butchers of London. There is a pastrycook, also, in one of
these “civil monuments of Egypt,” who is carrying a tray of tartlets
on his head; and to the tray is appended the inscription signifying
“one thousand,” which probably means, that this “Birch, Pyramid-place,
Cairo,” drives such a trade, that he makes and sells a thousand tarts
or a thousand varieties of them daily.
A dinner _fresco_, in a tomb at Thebes, shows us an entertainment given
by a naval officer to some of his professional brethren. This _fresco_
is described as being in compartments, and, perhaps, the most curious
is that in which “you see on one side the arrival of an aristocratic
guest, in his chariot, attended by a train of running footmen, one
of whom hastens forward to announce his arrival by a knock at the
door, sufficient to satisfy the critical ear, and rouse the somnolent
obesity, of the sleepiest and fattest hall-porter in Grosvenor
Square. The other compartment presents you with a _coup-d’œil_ of the
poultry-yard, shambles, pantry, and kitchen; and is completed by a
side view of a novel incident. A grey-headed mendicant, attended by
his faithful dog, and who might pass for Ulysses at his palace-gate,
is receiving, from the hands of a deformed, but charitable, menial, a
bull’s head, and a draught of that beer, for the invention of which we
are beholden to the Thebans.”
The story of Mycerinus, the Egyptian King, is grandly told by Mr.
Arnold, in his popular volume of poems; and, succinctly, by Herodotus.
An incident of the story connects it with our subject. Mycerinus
was persecuted by the gods for rendering Egypt happy, instead of
oppressing it, like his predecessors, and as the oracles had declared
it should be oppressed for many years to come. In punishment for such
impious piety, as his offence may be called, poor Mycerinus was told by
the oracle at Buto, that he should live only six years longer. “When
Mycerinus heard this, seeing that his sentence was now pronounced
against him, he ordered a great number of lamps to be made, and, having
lighted them, whenever night came on, he drank and enjoyed himself,
never ceasing night or day, roaming about the marshes and groves,
wherever he could hear of places most suited for pleasure; and he had
recourse to this artifice for the purpose of convicting the oracle of
falsehood, that by turning the nights into days, he might live twelve
years instead of six.” Poor fool! He probably succeeded in his object,
but after a sorry fashion. It may be good poetry to say that--
“The best of all ways
To lengthen our days
Is to take a few hours from night, my dear;”
but it is bad in principle, and universally unsuccessful in practice.
A recent describer of his travels in Egypt has said, that nothing is
so easy as to show that the Egyptians gave jovial banquets within the
sepulchral hall of tombs. I think that nothing would be so difficult
as to prove this. The nearest approach to it would be the case of the
skeleton that was carried about at Egyptian banquets, the bearer, at
the same time, warning the guests that, eat, drink, and laugh as they
might, to _that_ “complexion they must come” at last. The assertion,
however, was probably made, in part, to excuse a barbarous festival, at
which the writer was present, in the tombs of Eilythyias. The _locale_
was one of the huge halls, whose colossal columns serve to support the
huger mountain that is above. The dinner, we are told, was laid out
between the columns, with strings of small lamps suspended in festoons
over head.
The civilized and Christian ladies and gentlemen who were the guests
at this feast, broke up the coffins of the pagan and barbarian Kings
and Queens, in order to procure wood to boil their vegetables! They
laughed, joked, and sang joyous songs, and wondered what the buried
majesty of Misraim would say, could it burst its cerements, and see
northern men of unknown tongues drinking Champagne at its august
feet. And if, for a moment, a reflecting guest contrasted the savage
revelry with the ensigns hung out by the King of Terrors to intimate
his irresistible dominion over the company,--why, reflection was soon
banished by the appearance of the Awalim and Ghawazi girls, whom strong
coffee and more potent brandy had primed for their lascivious dancing.
“O Father Abraham! what these Christians are!”
These tombs are full of instruction to those who can read them. They
show us that the chief butler and cook--the “keeper of the drinks,” and
the Prince (_sar_) of his cooks--were probably Princes of the blood
of Pharaoh. In all pictorial representations of banquets, it is the
eldest son who hands the viands to his father, the eldest daughter to
the mother. The bill of fare of the trimestrial banquet of the dead,
held in the noble hall of the tomb of Nahrai at Benihassan, is still
extant. It is as long as that of a score of Lord Mayors’; and hundreds
of men were fed from what remained. All the retainers of Nahrai, who
was a Prince in Egypt a full century before the time of Joseph, were
buried in the vaults beneath the hall; and every one who could claim
kindred with them had a right to partake of the feast. The manner of
service appears to have been after this fashion:--The youngest children
of the house received the viands from the cooks, and those children
passed them on to the elder, until they reached the first-born,
who placed the dish at the feet of his sire, by whom a portion was
cut off, which the daughters, according to their age, transferred
from one to the other till it reached the separate table of their
mother. All remained standing, at these festival-dinners, until the
two seniors of the house had finished the first dishes of the repast.
Portions from these were then served to the children, when the whole
party sat down together; the children eating of the remains of the
first dish, while “the governor” and his lady partook of the integral
second; and so on, through a long service. On the wall of a tomb at
Ghizeh,--that of Eimei, one of the Princes of the Saphis,--the bill of
fare directs ninety-eight dishes to be placed, at once, on the table,
at the fortnightly banquets which glad survivors held in honour of the
departed, who appear to me always to enjoy an immense advantage over
those whom they leave behind them.
But now let us look in upon the modern Egyptian. If he be the master
of a house, while he is at ablutions and prayers, his wife is making
his coffee; and it is to be hoped that she is allowed the privilege
alluded to in the Augustinian sentiment, _orat qui laborat_. The cup
of coffee and pipe, taken early, generally suffice the Egyptian till
noon, at which hour comes the actual breakfast, usually consisting of
bread, butter, eggs, cheese, clotted cream, or curdled milk, with,
perhaps, a thin pastry, saturated with butter, folded like a pancake,
and sprinkled with sugar. A dish of horse-beans (terrific dish!)
sometimes adorns the table. They have been slowly simmering through
a whole night in an earthen vessel, buried up to the neck in the hot
ashes of an oven; and the sauce for this indigestible dish is linseed
oil or butter, and, perhaps, a little lime-juice. Those to whom butter
is difficult of procuring, or to whom good dinners are rarities, often
make a meal, and are content, upon dry bread dipped in a mixture of
salt, pepper, wild marjoram, with various other herbs, pungent seeds,
and a quantity of chickpeas. The bread is dipped into this _ragoût_,
and so eaten.
The supper is the principal meal in Egypt. The cooking is especially
for this repast; and what remains is appropriated for the next day’s
dinner, despite the apophthegm of Boileau, that--
“_Un dîner réchauffé ne vaut jamais rien._”
It is only an amiable _paterfamilias_ that dines with his wives and
children; and, in truth, where the wife appears in the plural number,
the husband can hardly expect a quiet meal. The washing before eating
is almost of universal observation. The table is a round tray placed
low, so that the squatters on the ground may conveniently eat thereat.
Bread and limes are placed on the tray. The bread is round, as among
the ancient Egyptians, and often serves as a plate. The spoons, too,
are of the materials I have named in speaking of the older nation.
The dishes are of tinned copper or china; and several are put upon
the table at one time. Among the Turks, only _one_ dish appears at
a time. Twelve persons, with one knee on the ground and the other
(the right) raised, may sit round a tray three feet in diameter. Each
guest tucks up his right sleeve, and prepares for his work, after
imitating the master of the house in uttering a low _Bismillah_, “In
the name of God.” The host sets the second example of commencing
to eat; and the guests again follow the good precedent. Knives and
forks are not used; spoons only for food like soups and rice. The
thumb and two forefingers are the instruments otherwise employed; and
they are employed delicately enough. Generally, a piece of bread is
taken, doubled together, and dipped into the dish, so as to enclose
the morsel of meat which the guest designs for himself, or, if it be
a savoury bit, and _he_ be courteous, intended for presentation to
his neighbour. The food is suited to such practices. It consists of
stewed meats, with vegetables of endless variety, or of small morsels
of mutton or lamb, roasted on skewers: clarified butter compensates for
want of fat in the meat. A fowl is summarily torn asunder by two hands,
either of the same person, or the right hands of two guests. Dexterous
fellows, like our first-rate carvers, will “joint” a fowl with one
hand. The Arabs do not use the left hand at all at table, because it is
used for unclean purposes. The disjointing is easily done; and even a
whole lamb, stuffed with pistachio nuts, may be pulled to pieces much
more easily than we divide a chicken. Water-melons, sliced, set to
cool, and watched, lest serpents should approach, and poison the dish
by their breath, generally form, when in season, a part of an Egyptian
meal,--a meal which usually closes with a dish of boiled rice, mixed
with butter, salt, and pepper; but occasionally this dish is followed
by a bowl of water, with raisins that have been boiled in it, and sugar
added, with a little rose-water, to give it an odour of refinement. A
bottle of six-year-old port is preferable.
As soon as each person has satisfied his appetite, he ceases, murmurs,
“Praise be to God!” drinks his sweetened water, rises, and goes his
way. They who drink wine, do it in private, or with confidential
friends, call it “rum” to save their orthodoxy; and if a visitor call
while this process is going on, the ready servant informs him that his
master is abroad or in the harem. Sweet drinks and sherbets, approved
by the Law and _the_ Prophet, are in common use, and pipes and prayer
end “the well-spent day.”
Egyptian women have some little fancies connected with the table that
may be mentioned. In order to achieve that proportion of obesity
which constitutes the beautiful, they eat mashed beetles, and they
chew frankincense and laudanum, to perfume the breath. The Egyptian
peasantry live upon the very sparest of diets, not often being able to
procure even rice. They, like the Bedouins, are, however, remarkable
for strength and health; but an Egyptian or Bedouin diet would not
produce the same results in an English climate.
It will have been observed, that in Egypt each man says his own
“grace,” before and after meat, for himself. The same custom prevails
in Servia. At table, instead of one person asking for a blessing on the
food, each individual expresses, _in his own words_, (an improvement on
the Egyptian plan,) his gratitude to the Supreme Being. In drinking,
the toast or sentiment of the Servian is, “To the glory of God!” and
a very excellent sentiment, only the Servian is apt to get very drunk
over it. The Servian qualification for a chairman at a convivial party
is, that he should be able to deliver an extempore prayer; and a very
good qualification, provided it be not a mere formality, and that
the spirit of prayer be the strongest spirit there. The combination,
however, of Collects and conviviality reminds me of some strange
parties at old-fashioned houses in our provincial towns, where comic
songs are followed by discussions on the Millennium, and seed-cake and
ginger wine season both.