SWORN OFF!
Introduction of temperance into England — America struck it first
— Doctor Johnson an abstainer — Collapse of the Permissive Bill —
Human nature and forbidden fruit — Effects of repressive legislation
— Sunday closing in Wales — Paraffin for miners — Toasting Her
Majesty — A good win — A shout and a drink — Jesuitical logic of the
prohibitioners — The end justifies the means — A few non-alcoholic
recipes — Abstainers and alcohol — Pure spring-water _v._ milk-punch —
“Tried baith!”
The first temperance society in England was formed at Bradford,
Yorkshire, on the 2nd February 1830, the chief mover having been Mr.
Henry Forbes, who had signed the pledge at Glasgow. But the use of
ardent spirits was condemned by many medical practitioners early in the
seventeenth century, although the United Kingdom does not seem to have
abstained from strong waters any the more. Repressive legislation, in
order to inculcate sobriety, was tried in Massachusetts, U.S., early in
the present century, but a few years before a society had been formed
at Moreau, New York State, in order to prohibit the consumption of both
wines and spirits, except {228} medicinally, or wine except at public
dinners or in the Lord’s Supper.
The work whence I have gleaned the above details also informs the
reader that “such as Doctor Samuel Johnson and John Howard set an
example of abstinence from all inebriating drinks”; which, as far as
Doctor Johnson is concerned, is somewhat startling news to myself. I
had always imagined that the burly lexicographer—I was reproved by a
critic for calling him this in _Cakes and Ale_—was a bit of a boon
companion; and the records of Fleet Street taverns by no means tend
to contradict this idea. Not only is the hard, oaken seat at one end
of the dining-room of “Ye Olde Cheshyre Cheese” marked with a brass
plate, with a suitable inscription, but the many visitors to that snug
hostelry, including hundreds of our American cousins, are always taken
upstairs and shewn Doctor Johnson’s chair. Did “Sam,” and “Davy,” and
“Noll” slake their thirst on cold water, beneath that tavern’s roof? I
trow not. Cross out Doctor Johnson’s name as a total abstainer, please.
In 1834, Mr. J. S. Buckingham, who was returned for Sheffield to the
first Reform Parliament, succeeded in obtaining a select committee
of the House of Commons, to enquire into the causes, extent, and
remedies of drunkenness. In the meantime the limitation of the pledge
to abstention from ardent spirits had proved a greater drawback than
in other countries, because beer had been the popular beverage, and
its use a cause of widespread drunkenness before ardent spirits were
commonly sold. But the idea of {229} our legislators before 1834 had
been that “good malt and hops could injure nobody.”
From ’34 to ’45 there was great activity in the temperance ranks
throughout the world; and in ’53 the United Kingdom Alliance for
the Legislative Suppression of the Liquor Traffic was formed, its
first president being Sir W. C. Trevelyan. In March ’64 a Permissive
Prohibitory Bill was brought into the House of Commons, but although
repeatedly re-introduced it never obtained a second reading. Nor is it
likely that such a Bill will ever become law as long as the sons of
Britannia are living outside a state of slavery. Repressive legislation
serves only to stimulate that which it claims to check; and thus it
is that these would-be reformers, whether Prohibitors of the Drink
Traffic, Vigilance and Purity Societies, and Anti-gambling Societies
have succeeded in making the state of London infinitely worse, as
regards drunkenness, chastity, and betting, than it was forty years ago.
Poor frail humanity will always do the thing which it ought not to
do in preference to fulfilling its obligations. It has been so since
the beginning of the world, and will continue so until the end.
Forbidden fruit has ever been the sweetest; and it is characteristic of
mankind—and more especially of womankind—to oppose, as far as they can,
any attempt at restraint. What has been the effect of closing Cremorne
Gardens, the Argyll Rooms, and other public resorts where dancing
and revelry were carried on until the small hours, five-and-twenty
years ago? {230} The evil took refuge in the open streets, and, more
recently, in so-called social clubs, in which illicit liquors were, and
are, sold, and the pander, and the pimp, and the bully met, and meet
the drunkard, the dupe, and the greenhorn. What has been the effect of
the Anti-gambling Crusade? To create working-men bookmakers. This is a
fact. In most large warehouses and factories there are _employés_ who
will lay “starting prices,” in shillings and sixpences, to their mates.
There is not a tithe of the amount wagered amongst the upper classes
that there was in the fifties and sixties; but amongst the horny-handed
sons of toil the vice has increased to an enormous extent, mainly owing
to repressive legislation. If a man wants to gamble there is only one
factor to prevent him—impecuniosity; and even that factor need not
prevent a man from having a drink if he waits in the tap-room long
enough on pay-day. Since Sunday closing in Wales, shebeens have arisen
by the hundred; and paraffin, for want of a better drink, is still
drunk on the Sabbath day, by the miners in the Rhondda Valley.
All honour to him who abstains from strong drink for conscience’ sake,
or in the hope that others may profit by his example. But the lash of
scorn for him who because he does not swallow fermented refreshment
himself, says to his brother “Thou shalt not drink!” The Puritans
abolished bear-baiting, not on account of the cruelty to the bears,
but because the alleged sport gave pleasure to the people; and the
Puritans of the day, who forbid cakes and ale, {231} and hunting, and
horse-racing, do so for the self-same reason.
“He who does not smoke,” said the sage, “has known no great sorrow.”
Similarly, it may be urged that he who never joins in a friendly
glass has known no great joy. Do we express our unfeigned joy and
thankfulness for having a great and good Queen to reign over us by
toasting her in flat soda-water? Forbid the deed! When our sons return
from the midst of many and great dangers, from the battle-field, the
raging deep, or the land of savages, do we express our delight by
putting the kettle on to boil? Avaunt! I have known a man who had won
£27,000 on a certain Wednesday at Ascot, dine that same night off a
chump chop, chips, and a bottle of ginger-beer, at a coffee-house no
great distance from Fleet Street. And he gave the waitress one penny
for herself, and counselled her not to “get gamblin’ ” with it. But
amongst my own personal friends, when the fancied horse catches the
eye of the judge, there is revelry; and who shall say that they sin
thereby? I do not believe in the man who takes his winnings sadly—or at
all events impassively. “A shout, and a drink, and then sit down and
write about it,” is the programme pursued by a journalistic friend; and
although I do not always “write about it,” ’tis much the same programme
pursued by myself. Nor do we rejoice for the sole reason that we have
got the better of somebody else. For, alas! the balance at the end of
the year is far too often in favour of that “somebody else.”
“On the question of the prohibition of the {232} liquor traffic,”
says an authority on the ethics or total abstinence, “there has been
much controversy. Its opponents have contended that it is an invasion
of personal liberty; that even when imposed by a majority it is a
violation of the rights of the minority, and that all that is really
required is such a magisterial and police supervision as will repress
drunkenness as much as possible, and inflict different penalties on
offenders. To this statement various answers are returned. With regard
to the violation of personal liberty the prohibitionists maintain that
in one sense all law interferes with liberty. A good law interferes
with the liberty to do wrong. Therefore, they say, assuming that the
common sale of drinks wrongs the public a law interfering with this
wrong is in accord with true liberty. They hold that individual profit
must be subservient to the public welfare, _Salus populi suprema lex_.
If hardship is alleged as affecting the buyer, the statement of John
Stuart Mill is quoted, who declared that every artificial augmentation
of the price of an article is prohibition to the more or less poor;
yet there is hardly any government which does not in some way or other
legislate so that the price of intoxicants is increased. As to the
possibility of extirpating intemperance by means of strict regulation
as to the sale of drink, the prohibitionists affirm that the existing
system has been tried for hundreds of years, and often under the most
favourable circumstances for its success, and that yet the licensing
system, as judged by its fruits, is confessed to be a melancholy
failure.” {233}
My remarks on the above are few and simple. It is this very Jesuitical
logic which has earned the “prohibitionists” the contempt of all
friends of freedom. It is this false and tyrannical doctrine which
asserts that “the end justifies the means,” which still stinks in the
nostrils of the majority of the people’s representatives in Parliament.
Now for a few hints as to some non-alcoholic beverages. And first of
all let it be stated that the thirsty man can do much worse than turn
to a teetotal beverage—as long as he avoids the bottled flatulence
which is sold, and freely advertised outside, in pretty nearly every
country cottage which can boast of good accommodation for travellers,
and a bicycle shed. The iced fruit-fizzers of Mr. Sainsbury—where the
pick-me-ups come from—close to the _Lady’s Pictorial_ office, are, to
my personal knowledge, freely patronized in summer-time by habitual
worshippers at the shrine of Bacchus. Moreover a follower of the sport
of kings would rather go without whisky all the afternoon than miss his
cup of tea, after business hours. No directions are needed here for the
manufacture of tea or coffee. Every housewife has a way of her own; and
it is as the laws of the Medes and Persians that her way is the only
way. Nor need a discussion be entered on as to the respective merits of
different brands of cocoa.
_A Superior Lemon Squash._
Take the juice of eight lemons, and sweeten it, allowing one
tablespoonful of sifted sugar to each {234} lemon. Put the juice into
an enamelled saucepan and simmer gently over the fire until the sugar
is quite dissolved. Beat up the white of one egg, add to the syrup,
and stir well till the mixture boils; let it boil for a minute or two,
and pour gently through a jelly-bag into a basin. When quite cold add
a quarter of an ounce of citric acid, bottle, and cork tightly. When
required for use, put six drops of Angostura bitters in a soda-water
tumbler, turn it round and round, then add a wine-glassful of the
squash, fill up with soda-water, place a thin slice of lemon atop, and
serve with two straws.
_Almond Comfy._
Put six ounces of pulverized sweet almonds and two ounces of smashed
bitters ditto into a saucepan with one quart of water, and let it
simmer for a quarter of an hour; then add one pound of sifted sugar.
When dissolved strain through a hair sieve or jelly-bag, and add a
tablespoonful of orange-flower water. When cold, a wine-glassful of
the mixture should be put into a tumbler, which should be filled up
with soda-or Seltzer-water.
_Temperance Cider._
Put half a gallon of water on to boil, and when boiling throw into the
saucepan a dozen medium-sized apples, cut into slices unpeeled. Keep
the lot boiling until quite tender, then strain till dry, taking care
not to let any of the pulp escape through the sieve. Add sifted sugar
_ad lib._, and the juice of two lemons. Let the mixture stand until
cool, when it will be ready for use. Of course ice is an improvement,
in warm weather. And only add a _soupçon_ of _eau de vie_ when you are
quite alone. {235}
The next item on the programme is called in my book,
_Drink for Dog Days_,
but as this is not a nice name, and suggests hydrophobia and—other
things, I will re-christen it
_Citron de Luxe_.
The composition is very simple. Put a lemon-ice in a large tumbler,
fill up with soda-water, stir well, and drink.
_N.B._—Mr. George Krehl, of “Verrey’s,” who knows something about dog
days, and dogs, won the prize offered in the _Sporting Times_ for
the best recipe for a summer drink, many years ago, with a similar
suggestion. But G. K. added a small glass of Curaçoa, and (I think) a
drop or two of Angostura bitters.
_Cherry Cobbler_
Take one pound of cherries of Kent, free from stalks and stones. Throw
them into a pint of boiling syrup, made of one pound of loaf-sugar
dissolved in one pint of water. Let the cherries boil as fast as
possible—“gallop” is, I believe, the technical word—for ten minutes,
and then add a quart of boiling water; put the whole into a pan, and
when cold strain. The addition of soda-water will make it all the more
watery.
_D. D._
[_This is not naughty language, but short for Delicious Drink._]
Mix together one pint of raspberries, one pint of {236} strawberries,
and one pint of white currants, all free from stalks; mash them well
together, and then add two quarts of boiling water, and three quarters
of a pound of sifted sugar. Let the mixture remain in a bowl all
night—unless you make it early in the morning, when all day will do as
well—then strain, and give it the dear children before their dinner.
_Raspberry Squash._
Put into a large soda-water tumbler one tablespoonful of raspberry
syrup, one tablespoonful of lemon squash (_vide_ above) and a lump of
ice; nearly fill the glass with soda-water, and ornament with a thin
slice of lemon, and a few red and white raspberries. Drink through
straws.
Raspberry Vinegar.
Take ripe, dry raspberries, and pour over them sufficient good malt
vinegar to cover them; let them stand three or four days, stirring
occasionally with a silver spoon. On the fourth day, strain through a
sieve, and let them drain for some hours; measure the juice, and add
an equal quantity of sifted sugar; put into a lined preserving pan,
and let the mixture boil gently for five or six minutes. Carefully
remove the scum as it rises. When cold, bottle, and cork well. A
wine-glassful with a bottle of soda-water is a refreshing “cooler” in
illness.
Elderberry Punch.
Put two bottles of elderberry wine, ⸺ hallo! what’s this? I turn to
the recipe for Elder Wine, and read: “A quart of brandy thrown into
the cask {237} when it is about to be sealed up will greatly improve
the wine.” Then what sort of a temperance drink can Elderberry Punch
be? No more on that head, in the name of St. Wilfrid.
I also read, in the work of reference from which I am quoting, under
the same heading, “Temperance Drinks,” that:—
“Many of the British wines, mixed with an equal quantity of water,
with a little ice, make very cool and refreshing drinks.” Very, very
likely. But can there be wine without fermentation? And are the total
abstainers, not content with drinking alcoholic gingerade and stone
ginger-beer, getting the wedge in still further. Forbid it!
_Cold Spring-water_
is a most excellent drink, and according to so great an authority as
Sir Henry Thompson, not only the cheapest drink in the world but the
best. For my own poor part I prefer milk-punch. And as the Scotchman
said, I have “tried baith.”
{239}
INDEX OF RECIPES
Absinthe, 115.
Ale, Brasenose, 59 ;
brewing of, 52, 53, 70 ;
cock, 41, 42 ;
cup, _see_ cup ;
flip, _see_ flip ;
mulled, 55 ;
posset, _see_ posset ;
rum and, _see_ rum ;
sangaree, _see_ sangaree.
Almond comfy, 234 ;
punch, _see_ punch.
Anchovy toast, 204.
Anisette, 191.
Apple Jack sour, _see_ sour.
Apricock wine, 34.
Apricot brandy, _see_ brandy.
Arctic regions, _see_ cocktail.
Arrack, 118.
Baltimore egg nogg, _see_ nogg.
Barley wine, 45.
Bastard, white, 38.
Beer soup, 54 ;
brewing of, 53.
Bengal cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
Birch, 30.
Bishop, 140.
Bitters, 209.
Black stripe, 171.
Blue blazer, 169.
Booze, rum, _see_ rum.
Bosom caresser, 171.
Bourbon sour, _see_ sour.
Braggonet, _see_ mead and braggon.
Brandy, apricot, 191 ;
burning, 166 ;
carraway, 190 ;
champirelle, 170 ;
cherry, _see_ cherry ;
cocktail, _see_ cocktail ;
daisy, 152 ;
ginger, 190 ;
orange, 192 ;
orange-flower, 190 ;
sangaree, _see_ sangaree ;
scaffa, 160 ;
smash, _see_ smas ;
sour, _see_ sour.
Brasenose ale, _see_ ale.
Brazil relish, 208.
Brewing of ale, _see_ ale ;
beer, _see_ beer.
Brown Betty, 57.
Bull’s milk, _see_ milk.
Burglar’s brew, 154.
Burning brandy, _see_ brandy.
Butter and rum, _see_ rum.
Capillaire punch, _see_ punch.
Carraway brandy, _see_ brandy.
Cassis, 194.
Catawba cobbler, _see_ cobbler.
Chablis cup, _see_ cup.
Champagne cup, _see_ cup ;
cocktail, _see_ cocktail ;
English, 40 ;
punch, _see_ punch ;
smash, _see_ smash.
Cherry brandy, 185, 186, 187 ;
cobbler, _see_ cobbler ;
gin, _see_ gin ;
whisky, 187.
Cider, 174 ;
cup, _see_ cup ;
posset, _see_ posset ;
temperance, 234.
_Citron de Luxe_, _see_ drink for dog days.
Claret cup—Badminton, Balaclava, Donald’s, or
“For’ard On”—_see_ cup.
Clary wine, 34.
Classical sherbet, _see_ Oxford punch.
Cobbler, Catawba, 150 ;
cherry, 235 ;
Hatfield, 150 ;
Moselle, 150.
Cock ale, _see_ ale.
Cocktail, Arctic regions, 151 ;
Bengal, 157 ;
brandy, 155 ;
champagne, 156 ;
Coomassie, 156 ;
gin, 88, 157 ;
Jersey, 156 ;
Jockey Club, 158 ;
Manhattan, 156 ;
Martini, 158 ;
Newport, 157 ;
Saratoga, 151.
Cocktail sherry, 158 ;
sunrise, 158 ;
swizzle, 157 ;
whisky, 159.
Cold tankard, _see_ cider cup.
Colleen Bawn, 171.
Coomassie cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
Cordial, ginger, 197 ;
Highland, 188 ;
saffron, 192.
Corpse reviver, 160.
Crimean cup, _see_ cup.
Cup, ale, 55 ;
chablis, 99 ;
champagne, 98 ;
cider, 94 ;
claret, 91, 92, 93 ;
Crimean, 95, 97 ;
Freemason, 99 ;
loving, 97 ;
perry, 95 ;
porter, 100 ;
race day, 97 ;
red, 99 ;
Rochester, 98 ;
tennis, 100.
Curaçoa, 193.
D. D., 235.
Devilled biscuit, 209.
Doctor, 169.
Drink for dog days, 235.
Ebulum, 41.
Egg flip, _see_ flip.
Egg nogg, _see_ nogg ;
Baltimore, _see_ nogg ;
sherry, _see_ sherry.
Egg punch, _see_ punch.
Elderberry punch, _see_ punch.
English ale, 55–57 ;
champagne, _see_ champagne ;
punch, _see_ punch ;
sack, _see_ sack.
Flip, ale, 55, 57 ;
egg, 90.
Freemason, _see_ cup.
Frontiniac wine, 46.
Gin and ginger beer, 88 ;
cherry, 187 ;
cocktail, _see_ cocktail ;
punch, _see_ punch ;
sangaree, _see_ sangaree ;
sling, _see_ sling ;
sloe, 188 ;
smash, _see_ smash ;
sour, _see_ sour.
Ginger beer and gin, _see_ gin.
Ginger brandy, _see_ brandy ;
cordial, _see_ cordial.
Glasgow punch, _see_ punch.
Golden slipper, 160.
Halo punch, _see_ punch.
Hatfield cobbler, _see_ cobbler.
Heap of comfort, 161.
Highland cordial, _see_ cordial.
Hippocras, 183.
Home Ruler, 166.
Jersey cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
Jockey Club cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
John Collins, _see_ sling.
Julep (or julap), 152 ;
mint, 153 ;
pine-apple, 153.
King Charles II.’s surfeit water, 189.
Kirschenwasser, 195.
Knickerbein, 159.
Kümmel, 190.
_L’Amour Poussée_, 159.
Lemon squash, _see_ squash ;
wine, 44.
Locomotive, 169.
Loving cup, _see_ cup.
Malmsey, 39.
Manhattan cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
Martini cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
Mead, 27 ;
and Braggon or Braggonet, 30.
Metheglin, 28.
Milk, bull’s, 152, 170 ;
and rum, _see_ rum ;
punch, _see_ punch.
Mint-julep, _see_ julep.
Moselle cobbler, _see_ cobbler.
Mother-in-law, 58.
Muskadine, 44.
Negus, port wine, 168 ;
sherry, 168.
Newport cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
Nogg, Baltimore egg, 205 ;
egg, 168 ;
sherry egg, 168.
Noyeau punch, _see_ punch.
Orange brandy, _see_ brandy ;
flower brandy, _see_ brandy.
Orange quinine, 207.
Orgeat, 96.
Oxford punch, _see_ punch.
Pepper posset, _see_ posset.
Perry cup, _see_ cup.
Pick-me-up, 204 ;
St. Mark’s, 208.
Pine-apple julep, _see_ julep.
Pope, 170.
Pope’s posset, _see_ posset.
Port wine negus, _see_ negus ;
sangaree, _see_ sangaree.
Porter cup, _see_ cup.
Porteree, _see_ sangaree.
Posset, ale, 55 ;
cider, 172.
Posset, pepper, 172 ;
Pope’s, 46 ;
sack, 32, 173.
Prairie oyster, 167.
Punch, almond, 110 ;
capillaire, 106 ;
champagne, 113 ;
egg, 111 ;
elderberry, 236 ;
English, 104 ;
gin, 88, 107 ;
Glasgow, 104 ;
halo, 114 ;
milk, 107 ;
noyeau, 107 ;
Oxford, 105, 107 ;
rack, 112 ;
restorative, 110 ;
shrub, 111 ;
Uncle Toby, 112 ;
Vauxhall, 112 ;
Victoria, 113 ;
Yorkshire, 113.
Quince whisky, _see_ whisky.
Race-day cup, _see_ cup.
Rack punch, _see_ punch.
Raspberry squash, _see_ squash ;
vinegar, _see_ vinegar.
Red cup, _see_ cup.
Renish wine, 47.
Restorative punch, _see_ punch.
Rochester cup, _see_ cup.
Rum and ale, 85 ;
and butter, 85 ;
and milk, 85 ;
booze, 89.
Rumfustian, 58, 170.
Sack, English, 32 ;
posset, _see_ posset.
Saffron cordial, _see_ cordial.
St. Mark’s pick-me-up, _see_ pick-me-up.
Sangaree ale, 162 ;
brandy, 162 ;
gin, 163 ;
port wine, 163 ;
porteree, 163 ;
sherry, 163.
Santa Cruz smash, _see_ smash.
Saragossa wine, _see_ English sack.
Saratoga brace-up, 154 ;
cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
Scaffa, brandy, _see_ brandy.
Scorcher, 207.
Sherry cocktail, _see_ cocktail ;
egg nogg, _see_ nogg ;
negus, _see_ negus ;
sangaree, _see_ sangaree ;
sour, _see_ sour.
Shrub punch, _see_ punch.
Sling, 163 ;
gin, 88 ;
John Collins, 88, 163.
Sloe gin, _see_ gin.
Smash, brandy, 164 ;
champagne, 164 ;
gin, 164 ;
Santa Cruz, 164 ;
whisky, 164.
Sour, apple Jack, 165 ;
Bourbon, 165 ;
brandy, 165 ;
gin, 165 ;
sherry, 166 ;
whisky, 165.
Spleen, to cure, 203.
Squash, lemon, 233 ;
raspberry, 236.
Strengthener, 206.
Sunrise cocktail, _see_ cocktail.
Surgeon-Major, 169.
Swig, _see_ wassail.
Swizzle, _see_ cocktail.
Temperance cider, _see_ cider.
Tennis cup, _see_ cup.
Turkey oyster, 167.
Twist, 195.
Uncle, _see_ mother-in-law ;
Toby, _see_ punch.
Usquebaugh, 33.
Vauxhall punch, _see_ punch.
Victoria punch, _see_ punch.
Vinegar, raspberry, 236.
Wassail, 56.
Whisky, cherry, _see_ cherry ;
cocktail, _see_ cocktail ;
quince, 191 ;
smash, _see_ smash ;
sour, _see_ sour.
White bastard, _see_ bastard ;
wine whey, 172.
Worcester oyster, 208.
Yorkshire punch, _see_ punch.
THE END
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.
* * * * * *
Transcriber’s note:
Original spelling and grammar have been generally retained, with some
exceptions noted below.
The index was originally structured rather inconsistently as a
nested list, with line-breaks separating list items. In these ebook
editions, semicolons have been inserted between list items, with full
stop inserted at the end of each top-level entry. The original book
separated key terms from page references with comma, and key terms from
"_see_ [other topic]" with semicolon; the latter have been changed to
comma. One particularly complicated top-level heading, “Egg”, has been
split into three top-level entries, “Egg flip”, “Egg nogg”, and “Egg
punch”.
Page 82. ‘Collins—’ to ‘Collins”—’.
Page 121. ‘Orginal’ to ‘Original’.
Page 126. ‘ “champagne”) ’ to ‘ “champagne”),’.