“APPLE SASS”
Ancient British seider — Conducive to longevity — The best made in
Normandy — Which develops into champagne — And other popular and
salubrious wines — Non-alcoholic cider — A loathsome brew — German
manufacturers — Medical properties of apple juice — Away with
melancholy — The mill and the press — Pure wine — Norfolk cider
— Gaymer’s gout-fuge — Revival of the industry — Old process of
cider-making — Improving the flavour — Boiled cider — Hippocras —
Juniper cider — An ancient cider-cup.
According to some chroniclers the ancient Britons made cider—or
“seider” as the poor ignoramuses wrote it—but it must have been nasty
stuff according to our civilized ideas; for until the Romans came to
visit us the apple was not cultivated in Britain, nor, indeed, any
fruit or vegetable. Our blue forefathers were not particular as to what
they ate or drank; and I should think the fermented juice of wild or
“crab” apples must have corroded the throats of the hardiest.
It is claimed for cider, and perry, that no fermented drinks do less
hurt to the imbiber; although one authority states that the man who
{175} drinks too much of either invariably falls on the back of his
head, which sounds rather dangerous. Whether the drinking of cider in
moderation conduces to long life deponent sayeth not; but no less an
authority than Lord Bacon evidently thought so; and in his _History
of Life and Death_ he tells of eight men dancing a Morris-dance,
whose ages, added together, were 800 years, “tennants of one Mannour”
belonging to the Earl of Essex, and habitual cider-drinkers. But the
lengthening of the days of the imbiber depends, in all probability,
upon the brand of cider. I have tasted some varieties which were
capable, apparently, of shortening life, rather than of prolonging
it; and in parts of Somersetshire, even at the present day, the
locals—case-hardened and poison-proof to a man—swill a horrible
decoction, which would probably kill off an alien, at long range, most
speedily and effectively.
Cider was called “cidre” and “sithere” by fourteenth century writers;
and the word is said to be a corruption of the Greek _sikera_, used
in the Septuagint to translate the Hebrew _shekar_, usually rendered
“strong drink” in the Old Testament.
“The name of _Cider_,” says one of these old writers, “if from
_Sikera_, is but a general name for an inebriating or an intoxicating
drink, and may argue their ignorance in those times of any other name
than _Wine_ for that liquor or juice in the Saxon or Norman language,
either of those nations being unwilling (it’s probable) to use a
British name for so pleasing a drink, they not affecting the Britains,
made use of few of their {176} words; but since that, that wines have
been imported from foreign parts in great quantities, the English have
been forced to make use of the old British name SEIDER, or _Cider_, for
distinction sake, although the name _vinum_ may be as proper for the
juice of the apple as the grape, if it be derived either from _Vi_ or
_Vincendo_, or _quasi Divinum_, as one would have it. Also the vulgar
tradition of the scarcity of foreign wines in England, viz. that Sack,
which was then imported for the most part but from Spain, was sold in
the apothecaries’ shops as a cordial medicine; and the vast increase
in vineyards in France (Ale and Beer being usual drinks in Spain and
France in Pliny’s time) is an argument sufficient that the name of
_Wine_, might be attributed to our British _Cider_, and of vineyards to
the places separated for the propagating the fruit that yields it.”
As a matter of fact the best cider in the world is made in Normandy.
And for what purpose do the Normans make it? To send to the Champagne
country to be sold to the unsuspecting tourist as the sparkling wine of
that district. This is solid truth. Hundreds of millions of gallons are
made in Normandy with the most scrupulous care, under the supervision
of experienced chemists, and the bulk is eventually sold as champagne.
And not only champagne, but claret, white wines, and even honest,
manly, beautiful, unsophisticated, good old Portuguese port, owe their
being in some instances to Normandy apples; the rich colour of the
port being added by log-wood, beet-juice, {177} and the root of the
rhatany. In fact, genuine port can be so closely imitated as to deceive
many a good judge; and it really seems wonderful that the British
farmer does not go in for making port wine, with apples so plentiful
and cheap, and beet, mangels, and elderberries so easy to cultivate. In
fact, given the time, and the materials, I am convinced that I could
produce an excellent ’98 wine for laying down, for hospital purposes,
public rejoicings, or _miladi’s boudoir_.
Cider, like all other useful drinks, can be, and is, imitated; and
Bands of Hope and other well-meaning but misguided associations are
chiefly responsible for this. What is known at Sunday-school treats
and Salvation Army marriage-feasts as “non-alcoholic cider” has been
found, on analysis, to be “a water solution of sugar and citric acid,
flavoured with apple essence.” It’s the flavouring as does it.
“Harvest cider,” as home-made for the “hands,” is dreadful stuff, and
absolutely unfit for human consumption. Apples which have fallen of
themselves, or been blown off the trees, “windfalls,” are left on the
ground to rot, and be eaten of slugs and wasps; and are then shovelled
into the cider-mill, together with leaves, stalks, slugs, wasps, dirt
of all sorts, spiders, ear-wigs, wire-worms, “Daddy Long-legs”-es,
and—other things; the whole being converted into a species of
“hell-broth,” which would have done credit to the best efforts of the
witches in _Macbeth_, when properly mixed.
For a long time the Germans held aloof from {178} the manufacture
of cider. The good Rhine wine, and the flowing and flatulent lager
of their own country, were good enough for the Teutonic palate. But
when it comes to a question of making money, with the risk reduced
to a minimum, Germany seldom “gets left,” as the Yankees say. Some
of the inhabitants of the Fatherland discovered, about two decades
ago, that there was _gelt_ in cider, and since that time apples have
been imported from France, by train-loads, for the purpose of being
converted into cider. Germany now exports nearly twelve times as much
of this fascinating beverage as does France; and under whatever name it
may figure in the bills—German Champagne, Military Port, Äpfel-wein, or
Sparkling Hock—away goes the apple juice to all parts of the civilized
world, including Damascus, Pekin, Khartoum, San Francisco, and
Shaftesbury Avenue. In Frankfort-on-the-Maine alone there are more than
fifty cider-factories, and the industry brings the town at least half a
million sterling per annum.
“The fruits of the earth,” says the ancient chronicler quoted above,
“and especially of trees, were the first food ordained for man to eat.”
And yet I had always understood that it was for eating an apple that
our first parents were evicted from the garden. But to continue the
quotation.
“And by eating of which (before flesh became his meat) he lived to
a far greater age than since any have been observed to have lived.
And of all the fruits our Northern parts produce, there’s none more
edible, nor more wholesome than _Apples_; {179} which by the various
preparations of the cook are become a part of our table entertainment
almost throughout the year, and are esteem’d to be very temperate and
nourishing.
“They relax the belly, which is a very good property in them; but the
sweet more than the sharp. They help concoction, eaten after meat,
with a little bread: you may be confident that an apple eaten after
supper”—paste this in your hats, ye revellers—“depresseth all offensive
vapours that otherwise would offend the head, and hinder sleep. Apples
rosted, scalded, or otherwise prepared, according to the skill of the
operatour, are good in many hot diseases, against _Melancholy_, and the
_Pleurisie_.
“But _Cider_ is much to be preferr’d, it being the more pure and
active part separated from the impure and feculent; and without all,
peradventure, is the most wholesome drink that is made in Europe for
our ordinary use, as before is observed. For its specifick vertues,
there is not any drink more effectual against the _Scurvy_. It is also
prevalent against the _Stone_, and by its mundifying qualities is good
against the diseases of the _Spleen_, and is esteem’d excellent against
_Melancholy_.”
Possibly the course of time has made us merrier than our forbears; at
all events “melancholy” is a disease for which no remedy is prescribed
in the modern editions of the Pharmacopœia. What with musical farces,
and Arthur Roberts, and the means to purchase a “livener” next morning,
no citizen of London is justified in the possession of lowness of
spirits. {180}
Making cider is easy enough, but requires, like all other manufactures,
care and a modicum of common sense. And here let me join issue with
those who maintain that the inferiority of English cider is due to the
antiquated methods employed in making it. In the first place I question
the inferiority; and in the second, although it is a fact that there is
very little difference between the methods of to-day and two hundred
years ago, we are more careful, on the whole, in the selection of the
material. Far more important than complicated machinery is the proper
choice of apples. Grow these in a scientific way, and do not eat all
the best for dessert. The cider apple should be neither green nor
over-ripe—and certainly not rotten like those used occasionally for
the harvesters—free from injury (and therefore not a “windfall”) and
just full ripe. The selected fruit should be placed in a mill which
breaks them up and pulps them; the pulp is then put under a press, and
squeezed dry to the last drop. The liquid is then left to ferment, and
this process should be very gradual, and be closely watched. Finally
the cider is drawn off, the finest qualities being bottled, and they
may be regarded as pure wine. At all events they are frequently sold
“as sich.”
It is claimed that cider, when pure and well made, is not merely an
extremely wholesome drink, but a very helpful one to those who suffer
from gout or rheumatism. It is asserted that cider will even cure these
painful disorders, and that those who drink the juice of the apple are
far less subject to aching joints and limbs than {181} other quaffers.
It is the “malic acid” in the liquor which is so inimical to these
diseases; and as a cider-drinker of considerable experience, and a sad
sufferer, at times, from both diseases, I can safely say that there is
no “touch” of either in the “natural” Norfolk cider made by Messrs.
Gaymer—a dry wine which is very palatable, and is one of the best and
the most wholesome of beverages.
Cider at its strongest does not contain a large percentage of alcohol,
and its makers contend that its qualities are more health-giving and
far less heady than those of any other liquor consumed in England.
According to Mr. Radcliffe Cooke, an enthusiast on the subject, the
revival in the cider industry dates from 1890, and there is every hope
that that industry will flourish more and more, through the centuries.
The recognized cider fruit may be divided into “bitter-sweets”—such
as the so-called Norman apples and the Wildings—and the “red” fruits,
such as the nearly extinct “Red Streak.” The best cider is made from
an admixture of the two sorts. But the gout-fuge cider, we gather from
another writer, should be made from a _single_ sort of apple.
“There is no difficulty,” writes Mr. Cooke, “in expressing the apple
juice; but the fermentation process is not sufficiently studied, and it
is here that failure commonly occurs.”
“As for the making of Perry and Cider,” writes an authority of the
seventeenth century, “which are drinkes much used in the West parts,
and other countries well stored with fruit in this {182} kingdome;
you shall know that your perry is made of peares onely, and your cider
of apples; and for the manner of making thereof, it is done after
one fashion, that is to say, after your Peares and Apples are well
prickt from the stalkes, rottennesse, and all manner of other filthe,
you shall put them in the presse mill which is made with a mil-stone
running round in a circle, under which you shall crush your peares or
apples, and then straining them through a bagge of haire cloth, tunne
up the same (after it hath bene a little setled) into hogs-heads,
barrels, and other close vessels.
“Now after you have prest all, you shall save that which is within the
haire cloth bagge, and putting it into severall vessels, put a pretty
quantity of water thereinto, and after it hath stood a day or two, and
hath beene well stirred together, presse it over also againe, for this
will make a small perry or cider, and must be spent first. Now of your
best cider that which you make of your summer or sweete fruit you shall
call summer or sweete cider or perry, and that you shall spend first
also; and that which you make of the winter and hard fruit, you shall
call winter and sowre cider, or perry; and that you may spend last, for
it will indure the longest.”
We don’t boil much cider nowadays, but this was a custom in
considerable favour with the ancients.
“In many places,” says another writer, “they boyl their cider, adding
thereto several spices, which makes it very pleasant, and abates the
unsavoury smack it contracts by boyling, but {183} withal gives it
a high colour. This way is not to be commended, because the juice of
the apple is either apt to extract some ill savour from the brass or
copper, we being not acquainted with any other vessels to boyl it in,
or the sediment of it is apt to burn by its adhering to the sides of
the vessel, it being boyl’d in a naked fire.
“But if you are willing to boyl your cider, your vessel ought to be
of _Latten_, which may be made large enough to boyl a good quantity,
the _Tin_ yielding no bad tincture to the liquor. . . . It many times
happens that cider that hath been good, by ill-management or other
accident becomes dead, flat, sowr, thick, muddy, or musty; all which
in some sort or other may be cured. You may cure deadness or flatness
in cider by grinding a small parcel of apples, and putting them in
at the bung-hole, and stopping it close, only sometimes trying it by
opening the small vent that it force not the vessel; but then you must
draw it off in a few days, either into bottles or another vessel, lest
the _Murc_ corrupt the whole mass. Cider that is dead or flat will
oftentimes revive again of itself, if close stopt, upon the revolution
of the year and approaching summer.”
_Hippocras._
Here is an ancient recipe:—
Take of cardamoms, carpobalsamum, of each half an ounce,
coriander-seeds prepared, nutmegs, ginger, of each two ounces, cloves
two drachms; bruise and infuse them two days in two gallons of the
richest sweetest cider, often stirring it together, then add {184}
thereto of milk three pints, strain all through an hippocras bag, and
sweeten it with a pound of sugar-candy.
D’you kna-ow—as the curate in _The Private Secretary_ says—I am not
taking any hippocras to-day.
“Wormwood imbib’d in cider,” says another writer, “produceth the effect
that it doth in wine.” Evidently some nasty effect; only conceive an
admixture of absinthe and cider!
That the ancients loved mixtures—and sweet mixtures—is pretty evident
from the writings of Pliny and others. Were a man to invite me to drink
apple juice in the which had been bottled dried juniper-berries, I
should probably hit that man in the eye, or send for a policeman. But
two or three hundred years ago “juniper-cider” appears to have been a
popular drink, although we read that “the taste thereof is somewhat
strange, which by use will be much abated.”
Ginger, cloves, cinnamon, currants, honey, rosemary, raspberries,
blackberries, elderberries, and “clove-July-flowers,” all used to be
put into cider, by way of flavouring; “but the best addition,” says the
same writer, “that can be to it is that of the lees of _Malaga_ Sack
or Canary new and sweet, about a gallon to a hogshead; this is a great
improver and a purifier of cider.”
Evidently in those days they had some crude sort of ideas on the
subject of Cider Cup.
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