This first valorization was abandoned in favor of the Sielcken plan,

which the federal government ratified in July, 1908. By this new plan

São Paulo borrowed $75,000,000 from the syndicate composed of American,

English, German, French, and Belgian bankers. Out of this it repaid the

$30,000,000 loan. The 1908 loan was to expire in ten years, in 1919.

Under the plan of the new loan, it was agreed that certain amounts of

the valorized coffee should be stored as collateral in warehouses in

New York and Europe in charge of a committee of seven, who were

authorized to sell the coffee in the market in specified quantities and

at prices that would not disturb the price of other coffees. The

composition of the committee was as follows: Dr. Francisco Ferreira

Ramos, of São Paulo and Antwerp; who was succeeded by Dr. Paulo da Silva

Prado; the Vicomte des Touches, of Havre; the Société Generale, of

Paris; the firm of Theodor Wille, of Hamburg; Hermann Sielcken, of New

York; Edouard Bunge, of Antwerp; and Baron Bruno Schroeder, of J. Henry

Schroeder & Co., of London.

Brazil agreed to purchase 10,000,000 bags and to hold them off the

market until conditions warranted their sale. It was also agreed that

the total exports of unvalorized stocks from Brazil would be restricted

to 10,000,000 bags for 1907-08, and to 10,500,000 bags for 1909-10. In

addition, a surtax of five francs gold per bag (96-1/4 cents) was placed

on every bag exported to pay carrying charges. The management of the

government's holdings was placed in the hands of the international

committee. This committee issued bonds which were quickly subscribed

for; and because of its efficient handling of its huge holdings, prices

held steady in spite of the record-breaking Brazilian crop of nearly

20,192,000 bags in 1906-07, and a later one in 1909-10 of about

15,000,000 bags. Indeed, there was an advance of about ten dollars a bag

between 1904 and 1911.

Valorization had the effect of stabilizing the Brazil market, and giving

the planters and allied interests the assistance they needed to ward off

the disaster that threatened them through overproduction. The United

States government action in 1912 forced the sale of the valorized stocks

held in this country, and the Congress passed the law making it

impossible again to offer for sale in America stocks of coffee held

under similar valorization agreements.

The coffee situation became so serious in 1913, that São Paulo again

entered the money market for another loan, borrowing $37,500,000 through

the good offices of the Brazilian federal government, following this up

two years later with another loan of $21,000,000. According to a

semi-official statement issued in Brazil early in 1919, the status of

valorization at that time was that the first loan of $75,000,000 of

1908, had been entirely liquidated, and the two later loans were greatly

reduced. At the same time, it was announced by the president of the

state of São Paulo that the surtax of five frances would be withdrawn as

soon as the liquidation of the loans had been completed. This surtax,

however, is still in effect. In 1919, the São Paulo government proposed

advancing the _pauta_, or export duty, very materially. A strong protest

was made by all the exporters; and a compromise was at last effected by

which the proposed increase in the _pauta_ was canceled, and the

existing surtax of five francs per bag continued as an offset.

The valorization project just described was the second of its kind, a

former attempt having proved a failure. At that time (1870), the

Brazilian government had been a large purchaser of Rio coffee, buying it

in lieu of exchange, as it had large remittances to make. The coffee was

sold through G. Amsinck & Co., and it is believed that heavy losses were

sustained.

Since the Sielcken valorization enterprise, the Brazilian government has

promoted two more valorizations, one in 1918, another early in 1922.

_War-Time Government Control of Coffee_

The board of managers of the New York Coffee and Sugar Exchange, Inc.,

had realized, late in 1917, that war-time government control of coffee

trading was likely in view of the government's activities in other

commodities. To guard against the danger of a sudden announcement of

such action, the president of the Exchange was empowered from month to

month, at each meeting of the board, to suspend trading at any time that

conditions warranted; so that, when President Wilson announced, on

January 31, 1918, that all dealers in green coffees were to be licensed,

the Exchange was fully prepared. Trading was suspended pending further

information, and owing to the farsightedness of the board of managers,

all danger of a panic in the market was averted.

By 1917, the allies had stopped shipments of coffee to Germany through

neighbors who had been her sole source of supply. Stocks in all the

producing countries were accumulating, and São Paulo had embarked on

another valorization scheme to protect her planters. The markets of

Europe were entirely controlled by the governments; and the United

States was practically the only free and open market. The market here

was steady and without particular animation, and showed none until the

end of November, 1917. At that time, speculation activities, steamer

scarcity, and the steady advance in freights, became decided influences

in the market; and prices began to advance.

Freights on shipments from Brazil had advanced from one dollar and

twenty cents per bag early in the year to unheard-of prices; and, before

the bubble burst, had reached as high as four dollars per bag. With this

steadily advancing freight, speculation in coffee became more active;

and prices naturally began to rise. The relative cheapness of coffee

compared with all other commodities; the fact that coffee here had shown

very little advance; the prospect of an early peace; the large European

demand to follow; were favorite bull arguments. The market became

excited; speculative buying was general, every one, apparently, wanted

to buy coffee; and twenty cents per pound for Santos 4s in the near

future was a common prediction.

The United States food administrator had shown his antipathy to

uncontrolled exchange operations by his action on sugar, wheat, corn,

and other commodities, dealt in on the exchanges; consequently, the

proclamation of President Wilson regarding coffee was not a surprise to

those who had been watching the situation closely, especially as on

January 30, 1918 (the day before the proclamation) the president of the

Coffee Exchange was summoned by telegraph to appear in Washington to

discuss ways for a proper control of the article, and the best means to

bring about such control. As a result of this summons, a committee of

the entire trade, representing the Exchange, the green-coffee dealers

and importers, the roasters, and the brokers, was appointed by the

Exchange to confer with the food administrator at once, in order to work

out a plan whereby the business could be kept going. After a long

conference, rules agreed upon were approved that became the basis on

which business was conducted until the withdrawal of all regulations

regarding coffee in January, 1919. Much trade criticism followed the

publication of some of these rules.

George W. Lawrence, president of the New York Coffee and Sugar Exchange,

was called to Washington on February 28, 1918, to take charge of a newly

created coffee division under Theodore F. Whitmarsh, chief of the

distribution division of the food administration. In this position he

rendered a signal service to the trade and to his country. Although

subjected to a cross-fire of criticism from many green and roasted

coffee interests, he never wavered in the performance of his full duty;

and his good judgment, tact, and loyalty to American ideals, won for him

a high place in the regard of all those who had the best interests of

the country at heart. He was ably assisted in his work by Walter F.

Blake, of Williams, Russell & Company, New York; and by F.T. Nutt, Jr.,

treasurer of the New York Coffee and Sugar Exchange.

A coffee advisory board was appointed in June 1918, to serve as a

go-between for the trade and the food administration. Those who served

on this committee were: Henry Schaefer, of S. Gruner & Co., New York,

chairman; Carl H. Stoffregen, of Steinwender, Stoffregen & Co., New

York, secretary; and William Bayne, Jr., of William Bayne & Co., New

York; S.H. Dorr, of Arnold, Dorr & Co., New York; A. Schierenberg, of

Corn, Schwarz & Co., New York; Leon Israel, of Leon Israel & Bro., New

York; Joseph Purcell, of Hard & Rand, New York; B.F. Peabody, of T.

Barbour Brown & Co., New York; J.D. Pickslay, of Williams, Russell &

Co., New York; Charles L. Meehan, of P.C. Meehan & Co., New York; B.C.

Casanas, of Merchants Coffee Co., New Orleans; John R. Moir, of Chase &

Sanborn, Boston; and B. Meyer, of Stewart, Carnal & Co., New Orleans.

Others in the trade who served the food administration during the period

of the World War were George E. Lichty, president of the Black Hawk

Coffee & Spice Co., Waterloo, Iowa; and Theodore F. Whitmarsh,

vice-president and treasurer of Francis H. Leggett & Co., New York.

The visible supply of coffee for the United States on January 1, 1918,

was 2,887,308 bags. The world's visible supply was given as 10,012,000

bags; but to be added to this were more than 3,000,000 bags held by the

São Paulo government. Thus there was little reason to fear a coffee

shortage. That coffee should be permitted, with this large amount in

view, to run wild as to price, was certainly not the intention of the

food administrator, whose purpose was to keep foods moving to the United

States forces and allies, and as far as possible, to keep reasonable

prices for the United States consumers. Steadily advancing prices of

foods meant increasing cost of labor, general unrest, and a difficult

situation to meet at a period when the situation as a whole was most

critical.

Trouble for the coffee trade was imminent early in 1918, when the

shipping board, backed by experts, decided, or attempted to decide, that

coffee was not a food product; that no vessels could be had for its

transportation; and that it must be put on the list of prohibited or

restricted commodities. Mr. Hoover, however, insisted that coffee was a

very necessary essential, and that tonnage must be provided for an

amount sufficient at all times to keep the visible supply for the United

States up to at least 1,500,000 bags of Brazil coffee; and this figure

was ultimately accepted and carried out by the shipping board.

These figures, based on the deliveries of the two preceding years, and

with dealers limited to ninety days stock in the country, were deemed

ample to care for all requirements. It was figured that by November 1,

1918, the freight situation would be relieved to such an extent by the

new vessels building, that the amount could be increased should it be

found necessary. The food administration, through the war trade board,

offered steamer room to importers of record of the years 1916-17 at

$1.70 per bag. The first few vessels were promptly filled on a basis of

nine and one-quarter to nine and five-eighths cents, c. & f., for Santos

4s, well described. About the same time, our army and navy were able to

buy at eight to eight and three-eighths cents f.o.b. Santos, for

shipment by their own vessels. After the first few vessels offered by

the War Trade Board were filled, the trade became indifferent. The

warehouses in Brazil were loaded with stocks; vessels to carry coffee

were assured buyers at a fixed rate (profits limited); and, as there was

no apparent reason for an advance, buyers were willing to let the

producing countries carry the stock.

The last week in June brought very cold weather in São Paulo, and cables

reported heavy frost. The news was not taken seriously by the trade at

large. "Frost news" from Brazil was no novelty, and in the past had

always been looked upon as a regular and seasonable method of bulling

the market. This year, however, the frost was a fact, and the market

began to move upward with surprising speed. Reports of the damage to the

trees varied from forty to eighty percent. Quotations from Santos

advanced two cents per pound in as many days. United States buyers were

not disposed to follow the advance; offerings of steamer room were

declined; and boats booked for coffee, owing to the lack of cargoes,

were transferred elsewhere. Meanwhile the market continued to advance

rapidly. The allies were holding the enemy, and peace prospects were

brighter. From September 1 to November 15, the records of the food

administration showed very small purchases. The buyers did not believe

in the frost. With the news of the armistice, Brazil markets went wild;

and Santos 4s, which had sold at eight and one-quarter cents in May,

were quoted at twenty and one-half cents by December 10.

The food administration had decided, on February 6, 1918, after

consulting the committee appointed by the Exchange, and on their advice

and recommendation, to permit trading in futures on the following plan:

a fixed maximum price of eight and one-half cents per pound for the spot

month, with a carrying charge not to exceed fifteen points per pound for

delivery for each succeeding month. Thus the price for March delivery

was fixed at eight and one-half cents, while July delivery could be sold

at nine and one-tenths cents; but when July arrived, it became the spot

month, and eight and one-half cents was the maximum at which it could be

sold.

This rule effectively stopped speculation, but failed to work out

satisfactorily to the trade. Experience proved that a maximum fixed

price at which coffee could be traded in would have produced much better

results. Business on the Exchange followed its usual course, and the

customary hedging of purchases was done by dealers. The indifference of

buyers, already referred to, had resulted in a heavy decrease of the

United States visible supply; and it had shrunk to 2,445,000 bags on

September 1; to 2,173,098 bags on October 1; to 1,857,260 bags on

November 1. Included in these amounts were at least 500,000 bags, held

in New York by foreign owners, which could not be sold; and of the

balance left, there was undoubtedly a liberal amount sold against on the

Exchange for future delivery. By October, the situation had become

acute. Dealers who had classified themselves as jobbers or importers had

gone into the retail classification in order to evade the limitations of

profit allowed jobbers, and were limiting their sales to lots of

twenty-five bags or fewer. Dealers who had legitimately hedged their

holdings were unable to buy in.

The Exchange officials showed no disposition to relieve the situation;

and as all prices had reached the maximum price for every month

permitted, the food administration, on November 1, 1918, ordered the

liquidation of all contracts outstanding, bought or sold, by not later

than November 9. This was done; and the coffee covered by such contracts

was released to the trade.

The regulations governing transactions on the Exchange were withdrawn on

December 5, 1918; and, after a long argument, the Exchange decided to

re-open for trading on December 26, 1918. Opening transactions amounted

to 25,000 bags on a basis of seventeen and one-half cents per pound or

nine cents over the prices at which contracts had been liquidated. On

December 28 the price had declined to fifteen and one-half cents. In the

opinion of many of our best merchants, the Exchange should have been

closed during the war, as it failed to be of any real service. That it

was operating at a fixed price for the spot month only, made it of no

value to the trade during this period. Of its loyalty to the government,

and its evident desire to assist there can be no question; but its

cheerful acceptance of the burdens laid upon it proved largely futile.

The action of the food administration in confining the coffee business

solely to licensed dealers and to a fixed profit on actual cost; in

limiting dealers to ninety days stock; and in prohibiting resales, was

the cause of much unjust criticism. The regulations were based on the

general rules of the food administration, and applied to coffee quite as

equitably as did the regulations governing other food commodities under

control and license. As a matter of fact, they were much less rigorous

in some ways than the regulations applying to many other articles. For

example, ninety days stock based on sales for 1916-17 was allowed on

coffee. There was no other article on the food list to which this

liberality was permitted. A forty to sixty days stock would probably be

found to be the maximum permitted to be carried of other food products.

The general proclamation of the food administration of November 1, 1917,

declared:

These general and special rules and regulations are promulgated by

the President to accomplish three principal objects, viz: 1st, to

limit the prices charged by every licensee "to a reasonable amount

over expenses and forbid the acquisition of speculative profits

from a rising market"; 2d, to keep all food commodities moving in

as direct a line as possible and with as little delay as

practicable to the consumer; 3d, to limit as far as practicable

contracts for future delivery and dealing in future contracts.

From the foregoing it will be apparent that a profit to be allowed based

on "market value" for coffees was an impossibility, unless this law had

been altered to allow all licensees of other commodities to share.

Coffee profits were fixed by the food administration on the advice of,

and with acceptance by, the coffee committee. They started too low; and

were made more liberal, when the first figures were shown to be

impossible. George W. Lawrence reports a conversation that he had with

the food administrator on this particular subject, and that was

characteristic of his broadness. Mr. Hoover said, "The coffee dealers

are complaining of the profits permitted them. I want them satisfied;

and if the profits are not reasonable, I shall put them where they will

be. This war is not going to last always; and at its conclusion I want

every American merchant in a position to be able to continue his

business and be no worse off than when the war started."

Resales were prohibited, or limited to one transaction, in order to

prevent an accumulation of profits, that, added to each transfer, would

result ultimately in higher prices to the consumer.

The fixing of profit based on cost, and not on market or replacement

value, is a thing that is impossible in normal times. Carried to the

last degree, it would mean ruination; for no provision is made for

declines in the market, and resulting losses. As a war measure it was

inevitable, and so endured. In normal times it is like trying to make

water run uphill. With a united people, it worked; but one can not have

a World War always to unite the people. It has been said that government

regulation of coffees caused a large increase in price to the consumer.

This would be hard to prove. The trade, generally, that refused to buy

at ten to twelve cents per pound because it did not, or would not

believe the reports of frost damage, and thought prices too high, was

frantically bidding up to twenty and twenty-two cents for 4s in March

and April, 1919. According to the ideas of some enthusiasts, fifty cents

was not an impossibility. Naturally such a bubble must burst eventually.

Government control had nothing to do with such natural conditions as

frost, or as the buyers' indifference. Expansion and inflation were in

the air, and had to run their course. The year 1920 brought the

aftermath; and in the deflation, coffee, with all other commodities,

went down to prices far below its intrinsic value. The expected European

demand did not materialize; the interior buyer was overloaded with

stock; and the losses of the coffee trade in 1920 will, it is to be

hoped, never be repeated.

_The Story of Soluble Coffee_

For nearly two decades, many coffee men and chemists have been seeking a

soluble coffee, or dried coffee extract, that would simplify the

preparation of the beverage. Thus far, all the products that have

appeared on the market are somewhat deficient in aroma and in the more

delicate flavors of coffee. A satisfying average cup of coffee can be

prepared from the better brands; the chief advantages of which are

rapidity of preparation, absence of any grounds, and uniformity of

drink.

Considerable progress has been made in certain directions; enough to

warrant telling here, though briefly, the story of soluble coffee to

date.

Some there are among trade experts and coffee connoisseurs who maintain

soluble coffee is an _ignis fatuus_; that it can never be manufactured

without destroying the aromatic principle; that at best it is a delusion

and a snare. Certainly, many absurd claims have been made for some of

the soluble coffees on the market. However, there are others that are

not without their merits; and the story of their introduction to the

trade and the consuming public is entertaining and instructive.

Dr. Sartori Kato, a Japanese chemist, of Tokio, brought a soluble tea to

Chicago about 1899. It was not a commercial success; but it served to

bring him in touch with some coffee men and chemists, for whom he

produced a soluble coffee in the same year. A company was organized to

promote the product. It was called the Kato Coffee Co., and included, in

addition to Dr. Kato; Fillip Kreissel, a chemist; W.R. Ruffner, a

green-coffee broker; and I.D. Richheimer, a coffee roaster. Kato's

soluble coffee was first sold to the public at the Pan-American

Exposition in 1901. The first quantity order was received from Captain

Baldwin and by him used with satisfaction on the Ziegler Arctic

expedition. United States patents on a coffee concentrate, and process

for making the same (soluble coffee), were granted to Sartori Kato of

Chicago, assignor to the Kato Coffee Co., of the same place, on August

11, 1903.

G. Washington, who was born in Belgium of English parents, and who was

living temporarily in Guatemala City, invented about 1906, a soluble

coffee that was made ready for the market in 1909.

The George Washington Coffee Refining Co. was organized in 1910 to put

the Washington product on the market, which it did first under the name,

Red E coffee. This was later changed to G. Washington's Prepared Coffee,

as an alternative to Washington's Coffee Extract, a name which was

favorably regarded by all except certain authorities at the national

capital. Associated with Mr. Washington at the start of the enterprise

were: E. Van Etten, former vice-president of the New York Central

Railroad; W.J. Arkell; Bartlett Arkell, of the Beechnut Packing Co.;

C.M. Warner, of the Warner Sugar Refining Co.; and Charles E. Proctor,

of the Singer Sewing Machine Co.

The G. Washington Coffee Refining Company has its coffee-roasting and

preparing plant in Brooklyn; but its process is a secret one, and has

never been patented.

F. Lehnhoff Wyld, who was the Washingtons' family physician when they

lived in Guatemala City, and with whom Mr. Washington had discussed his

work in soluble coffee, duplicated the Washington product in 1913; and,

with E.T. Cabarrus, he organized the _Société du Café Soluble Belna_,

Brussels, Belgium, to put on the European market a refined soluble

coffee under the brand name Belna.

Eight or ten United States patents have been granted on soluble coffees

that have never been applied commercially.

Nowhere has soluble coffee met with such success as in the United

States, where a number of brands followed the Kato and G. Washington

products. Among them, mention should be made of the C.F. Blanke Tea &

Coffee Company's Magic Cup, afterward Fairy Cup, and later, Faust brand,

brought out in 1912; the Baker Importing Co.'s Barrington Hall Soluble

Coffee, brought out in 1917; and the Charles G. Hires Co.'s brand,

introduced to the trade in 1918.

It was the World War that brought soluble coffee to the front. E.F.

Holbrook, formerly in charge of the coffee section, subsistence

division, United States War Department, said, "The use of mustard gas by

the Germans made it one of the most important articles of subsistence

used by the army." Early in the war, soluble coffee was added to the

reserve ration, three-quarters of an ounce being considered at first the

proper amount per ration. After trying to put it up in sticks, tablets,

capsules, and other forms, it was determined that the best method was to

pack it in envelopes. A month before the signing of the armistice, the

New York depot was notified that after January 1, 1919, the requirements

of soluble coffee were to be 25,000 pounds per day in addition to

quantities packed in reserve rations, bringing the total daily output to

42,500 pounds per day. Arrangements were made to have the total output

of the New York zone, 40,000 pounds per day, packed in quarter-ounce

envelopes, twenty-four to a sealed can.

I.D. Richheimer, promoter of the original soluble coffee of Kato and the

Kato patent, organized the Soluble Coffee Co. of America in 1918, to

supply soluble coffee to the American army overseas. After the

armistice, the company began licensing other merchants under the Kato

patent or offering to process the merchants' own coffee for them if

desired.

William A. Hamor and Charles W. Trigg, Pittsburgh, assignors to John E.

King, Detroit, were granted a United States patent in 1919 on a process

for making a new soluble coffee. Their process consists in bringing the

volatilized caffeol in contact with a petrolatum, or absorbing medium,

where it is held until needed for combination with the evaporated coffee

extract. The King Coffee Products Corp. of Detroit was organized in 1920

to manufacture this product, known as Minute coffee, and a coffee base

for soft drinks, the latter being marketed under the name of Coffee Pep.

Mr. King had believed for many years that soluble coffee was destined to

solve many of the vexations of the coffee business, and had been

experimenting with the idea since 1906. To facilitate his

investigations, he established a fellowship at the Mellon Institute of

Industrial Research, Pittsburgh, in 1914, in charge of Charles W. Trigg.

This chemically controlled research evolved a product which, after

passing through the laboratory stage, was placed upon a small unit plan

basis, and then patented. Five additional patents on the product were

granted Messrs. Trigg and David S. Pratt in 1921; and all were assigned

to John E. King.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: THE EARLIEST COFFEE MANUSCRIPT, 1587

Pages from the Arabian writing by Abd-al-Kâdir, photographed for this

work in the Bibliothéque Nationale, Paris.]

CHAPTER XXXII

A HISTORY OF COFFEE IN LITERATURE

_The romance of coffee, and its influence on the discourse, poetry,

history, drama, philosophic writing, and fiction of the seventeenth

and eighteenth centuries and on the writers of today--Coffee quips

and anecdotes_

Any study of the literature of coffee comprehends a survey of selections

from the best thought of civilized nations, from the time of Rhazes

(850-922) to Francis Saltus. We have seen in chapter III how Rhazes, the

physician-philosopher, appears to have been the first writer to mention

coffee; and was followed by other great physicians, like Bengiazlah, a

contemporary, and Avicenna (980-1037).

Then arose many legends about coffee, that served as inspiration for

Arabian, French, Italian, and English poets.

Sheik Gemaleddin, mufti of Mocha, is said to have discovered the virtues

of coffee about 1454, and to have promoted the use of the drink in

Arabia. Knowledge of the new beverage was given to Europeans by the

botanists Rauwolf and Alpini toward the close of the sixteenth century.

The first authentic account of the origin of coffee was written by

Abd-al-Kâdir in 1587. It is the famous Arabian manuscript commending the

use of coffee, preserved in the Bibliothéque Nationale, Paris, and

catalogued as "Arabe, 4590."

Its title written in Arabic is as follows:

[Arabic]

___ ___ ___ ___

4 3 2 1

which is pronounced (reading right to left):

omdat as safwa fi hall al kahwa

___ ___ ___ _____

1 2 3 4

or; in the literary style: omdatu s safwati fi hallu 'l kahwati which

means--literally, (the corresponding words being underlined and

numbered)

"The maintenance of purity as

___________ ______

1 2

regards the legitimacy of coffee."

_________ ______

3 4

or, more freely, "Argument in favor of the legitimate use of coffee."

[Arabic] kahwa, is the Arabic word for coffee.

The author is Abd-al-Kâdir ibn Mohammad al Ansâri al Jazari al Hanbali.

That is, he was named Abd-al-Kâdir, son of Mohammed.

_Abd-al-Kâdir_ means "slave of the strong one" (i.e., of God); while _al

Ansâri_ means that he was a descendant of the _Ansâri_ (i.e., "helpers"),

the people of Medina who received and protected the Prophet Mohammed

after his flight from Mecca; _al Jazari_ means that he was a man of

Mesopotamia; and _al Hanbali_ that in law and theology he belonged to

the well known sect, or school, of the Hanbalites, so called after the

great jurist and writer, Ahmad ibn Hanbal, who died at Bagdad A.H. 241

(A.D. 855). The Hanbalites are one of the four great sects of the Sunni

Mohammedans.

Abd-al-Kâdir ibn Mohammed lived in the tenth century of the Hegira--the

sixteenth of our era--and wrote his book in 996 A.H., or 1587 A.D.

Coffee had then been in common use since about 1450 A.D. in Arabia. It

was not in use in the time of the Prophet, who died in 632 A.D.; but he

had forbidden the drink of strong liquors which affect the brain, and

hence it was argued that coffee, as a stimulant, was unlawful. Even

today, the community of the Wahabis, very powerful in Arabia a hundred

years ago, and still dominant in part of it, do not permit the use of

coffee.

Abd-al-Kâdir's book is thought to have been based on an earlier writing

by Shihâb-ad-Dîn Ahmad ibn Abd-al-Ghafâr al Maliki, as he refers to the

latter on the third page of his manuscript; but if so, this previous

work does not appear to have been preserved. La Roque says Shihâb-ad-Dîn

was an Arabian historian who supplied the main part of Abd-al-Kâdir's

story. La Roque refers also to a Turkish historian.

Research by the author has failed to disclose anything about

Shihâb-ad-Dîn save his name (_al Maliki_ means that he belonged to the

Malikites, another of the four great Sunni sects), and that he wrote

about a hundred years before Abd-al-Kâdir. No copy of his writings is

known to exist.

The illustrations show the title page of Abd-al-Kâdir's manuscript, the

first page, the third page, and the fly leaf of the cover, the latter

containing an inscription in Latin made at the time the manuscript was

first received or classified. It reads:

Omdat al safouat fl hall al cahuat.

De usu legitimo et licito potionis quae vulgo Café nuncupatur.

Authore Abdalcader Ben Mohammed al Ansâri. Constat hic liber

capitibus septem, et ab authore editus est anno hegirae 996 quo

anno centum et viginti anni effluxerant ex quo huius potionis usus

in Arabia felice invaluerat

The translation of the Latin is:

Concerning the legitimate and lawful use of the drink commonly

known as café by Abdalcader Ben Mohammed al Ansâri. The book is

composed in seven chapters and was brought out by the author in the

year of the Hegira 996 at which time a hundred and twenty years had

passed since the use of this drink had become firmly established in

Arabia Felix.

_Coffee in Poetry_

The Abd-al-Kâdir work immortalized coffee. It is in seven chapters. The

first treats of the etymology and significance of the word cahouah

(kahwa), the nature and properties of the bean, where the drink was

first used, and describes its virtues. The other chapters have to do

largely with the church dispute in Mecca in 1511, answer the religious

objectors to coffee, and conclude with a collection of Arabic verses

composed during the Mecca controversy by the best poets of the time.

De Nointel, ambassador from the court of Louis XIV to the Ottoman Porte,

brought back with him to Paris from Constantinople the Abd-al-Kâdir

manuscript, and another by Bichivili, one of the three general

treasurers of the Ottoman Empire. The latter work is of a later date

than the Abd-al-Kâdir manuscript, and is concerned chiefly with the

history of the introduction of coffee into Egypt, Syria, Damascus,

Aleppo, and Constantinople.

The following are two of the earliest Arabic poems in praise of coffee.

They are about the period of the first coffee persecution in Mecca

(1511), and are typical of the best thought of the day:

IN PRAISE OF COFFEE

_Translation from the Arabic_

O Coffee! Thou dost dispel all cares, thou art the object of desire

to the scholar.

This is the beverage of the friends of God; it gives health to

those in its service who strive after wisdom.

Prepared from the simple shell of the berry, it has the odor of

musk and the color of ink.

The intelligent man who empties these cups of foaming coffee, he

alone knows truth.

May God deprive of this drink the foolish man who condemns it with

incurable obstinacy.

Coffee is our gold. Wherever it is served, one enjoys the society

of the noblest and most generous men.

O drink! As harmless as pure milk, which differs from it only in

its blackness.

Here is another, rhymed version of the same poem:

IN PRAISE OF COFFEE

_Translation from the Arabic_

O coffee! Doved and fragrant drink, thou drivest care away,

The object thou of that man's wish who studies night and day.

Thou soothest him, thou giv'st him health, and God doth favor those

Who walk straight on in wisdom's way, nor seek their own repose.

Fragrant as musk thy berry is, yet black as ink in sooth!

And he who sips thy fragrant cup can only know the truth.

Insensate they who, tasting not, yet vilify its use;

For when they thirst and seek its help, God will the gift refuse.

Oh, coffee is our wealth! for see, where'er on earth it grows,

Men live whose aims are noble, true virtues who disclose.

COFFEE COMPANIONSHIP

_Translation from the Arabic_

Come and enjoy the company of coffee in the places of its

habitation; for the Divine Goodness envelops those who partake of

its feast.

There the elegance of the rugs, the sweetness of life, the society

of the guests, all give a picture of the abode of the blest.

It is a wine which no sorrow could resist when the cup-bearer

presents thee with the cup which contains it.

It is not long since Aden saw thy birth. If thou doubtest this, see

the freshness of youth shining on the faces of thy children.

Grief is not found within its habitations. Trouble yields humbly to

its power.

It is the beverage of the children of God, it is the source of

health.

It is the stream in which we wash away our sorrows. It is the fire

which consumes our griefs.

Whoever has once known the chafing-dish which prepares this

beverage, will feel only aversion for wine and liquor from casks.

Delicious beverage, its color is the seal of its purity.

Reason pronounces favorably on the lawfulness of it.

Drink of it confidently, and give not ear to the speech of the

foolish, who condemn it without reason.

During the period of the second religious persecution of coffee in the

latter part of the sixteenth century, other Arabian poets sang the

praises of coffee. The learned Fakr-Eddin-Aboubeckr ben Abid Iesi wrote

a book entitled _The Triumph of Coffee_, and the poet-sheikh

Sherif-Eddin-Omar-ben-Faredh sang of it in harmonious verse, wherein,

discoursing of his mistress, he could find no more flattering comparison

than coffee. He exclaims, "She has made me drink, in long draughts, the

fever, or, rather, the coffee of love!"

The numerous contributions by early travelers to the literature of

coffee have been mentioned in chronological order in the history

chapters. After Rauwolf and Alpini, there were Sir Antony Sherley,

Parry, Biddulph, Captain John Smith, Sir George Sandys, Sir Thomas

Herbert, and Sir Henry Blount in England; Tavernier, Thévenot, Bernier,

P. de la Roque, and Galland in France; Delia Valle in Italy; Olearius

and Niebhur in Germany; Nieuhoff in Holland, and others.

Francis Bacon wrote about coffee in his _Hist. Vitae et Mortis_ and

_Sylva Sylvarum_, 1623-27. Burton referred to it in his "_Anatomy of

Melancholy_" in 1632. Parkinson described it in his _Theatrum Botanicum_

in 1640. In 1652, Pasqua Rosée published his famous handbill in London,

a literary effort as well as a splendid first advertisement.

Faustus Nairon (Banesius) produced in Rome, in 1671, the first printed

treatise devoted solely to coffee. The same year Dufour brought out the

first treatise in French. This he followed in 1684 with his work, _The

manner of making coffee, tea, and chocolate_. John Ray extolled the

virtues of coffee in his _Universal Botany of Plants_, published in

London in 1686. Galland translated the Abd-al-Kâdir manuscript into

French in 1699, and Jean La Roque published his _Voyage de l'Arabie

Heureuse_ in Paris in 1715. Excerpts from nearly all these works appear

in various chapters of this work.

Leonardus Ferdinandus Meisner published a Latin treatise on coffee, tea,

and chocolate in 1721. Dr. James Douglas published in London (1727) his

_Arbor yemensis fructum cofè ferens, or a description and history of the

Coffee Tree_. This work laid under contribution many of the Italian,

German, French, and English scholars mentioned above; and the author

mentioned as other sources of information: Dr. Quincy, Pechey, Gaudron,

de Fontenelle, Professor Boerhaave, Figueroa, Chabraeus, Sir Hans

Sloane, Langius, and Du Mont.

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the poets and dramatists of

France, Italy, and England found a plentiful supply in what had already

been written on coffee; to say nothing of the inspiration offered by the

drink itself, and by the society of the cafés of the period.

French poets, familiar with Latin, first took coffee as the subject of

their verse. Vaniére sang its praises in the eighth book of his

_Praedium rusticum_; and Fellon, a Jesuit professor of Trinity College,

Lyons, wrote a didactic poem called, _Faba Arabica, Carmen_, which is

included in the _Poemata didascalica_ of d'Olivet.

Abbé Guillaume Massieu's _Carmen Caffaeum_, composed in 1718, has been

referred to in chapter III. It was read at the Academy of Inscriptions.

One of the panegyrists of this author, de Boze, in his _Elogé de

Massieu_, says that if Horace and Virgil had known of coffee, the poem

might easily have been attributed to them; and Thery, who translated it

into French, says "it is a pearl of elegance in a rare jewel case."

The following translation of the poem from the Latin original was made

for this work:

COFFEE

_A Poem by Guillaume Massieu of the French Academy_

(A literal prose translation from the original Latin in the British

Museum.)

How coffee first came to our shores,

What the nature of the divine drink is, what its use,

How it brings ready aid to man against every kind of evils,

I shall here begin to tell in simple verse.

You soft-spoken men, who have often tried the sweetness of this drink,

If it has never deceived your wishes or mocked your hopes

With its empty results, be propitious and lend a willing ear to our song.

And may you, O Phoebus, kindly be present, to acknowledge

As your gift the power of herbs and healthful plants, and to

Dispel sad diseases from our bodies; for they say you are

The author of this blessing, and may you spread your

Gifts among peoples, and everywhere far and wide throughout the entire

world.

Across Libya afar, and the seven mouths of the swollen Nile,

Where Asia most joyfully spreads in immense fields

Rich in various resources and filled with fragrant woods,

A region extends. The Sabeans of old inhabited it.

I believe indeed Nature, that best parent of all things,

Loved this place more than all others with a tender love.

Here the air of Heaven always breathes more mildly.

The sun has a gentler power; here are flowers of a different clime;

And the earth with fertile bosom brings forth various fruits,

Cinnamon, casia, myrrh, and fragrant thyme.

Amid the resources and gifts of this blessed land,

Turned to the sun and the warm south winds,

A tree spontaneously lifts itself into the upper air.

Growing nowhere else, and unknown in earlier centuries,

By no means great in size, it stretches not far its

Spreading branches, nor lifts a lofty top to heaven;

But lowly, after the manner of myrtle or pliant broom,

It rises from the ground. Many a nut bends its rich branches.

Small, like a bean, dark and dull in color,

Marked by a slight groove in the centre of its hull.

To transplant this growth to our own fields

Many have tried, and to cultivate it with great care.

In vain; for the plant has not responded to the zeal

And desires of the planters, and has rendered vain their long labor;

Before day the root of the tender herb has withered away.

Either this has happened through fault of climate, or grudging

Earth refuses to furnish fit nourishment to the foreign plant.

Therefore come thou, whoever shall be possesed by a love for coffee,

Do not regret having brought the healthful bean from the far

Remote world of Arabia; for this is its bountiful mother country.

The soothing draught first flowed from those regions through other

Peoples; thence through all Europe and Asia,

and next made its way through the entire world.

Therefore, what you shall know to be sufficient for your needs,

Do you prepare long beforehand; let it be your care to have collected

Yearly a copious store, and providently fill small granaries,

As of yore the farmer, early mindful and provident of the future,

Collected crops from his fields and garnered them in his barns,

And turned his attention to the coming year.

None the less, meanwhile, must the utensils for coffee be cared for. Let

not vessels suited for drinking the beverage be lacking, And a pot,

whose narrow neck should be topped by a small cover And whose body

should swell gradually into an oblong shape. When these things shall

have been provided by you, let your Next care be to roast well the beans

with flames, and to grind them when roasted. Nor should the hammer cease

to crush them with many a blow, Until they lay aside their hardness, and

when thoroughly ground, Become fine powder; which forthwith pack either

in a bag or a box made for such uses. And wrap it in leather, and smear

it over with soft wax, lest Narrow chinks be open, or hidden channels.

Unless you prevent these, by a secret path gradually small Particles and

whatever of value exists, and the entire strength, Would leave, wasting

into empty air.

[Illustration: CAMEL TRANSPORT BETWEEN HARAR AND DIRE-DAOUA, ABYSSINIA]

[Illustration: SUN-DRYING IN LA LAGUNA, PHILIPPINE ISLANDS]

[Illustration: COFFEE SCENES IN THE NEAR AND THE FAR EAST]

There is also a hollow machine, like a small tower, which they

Call a mill, in which you can bruise the useful fruit of the

Roasted bean and crush it with frequent rubbing;

A revolving pivot in the middle, on an easy wheel turning,

Twists its metal joints on a creaking stem.

The top of the wheel, you know, is pierced with an ivory handle

Which will have to be turned by hand, through a thousand revolutions,

And through a thousand circles it moves the pivot.

When you put a kernel in, you will turn the handle with quick hand--

No delay--and you will wonder how the crackling kernel is

With much grinding quickly reduced to a powder.

Once only the lower compartment receives on its kindly bosom

The crushed grains, which are placed in the very depths of the box.

But why do we linger over these less important matters? Greater things

call us. Then is it time to drain the sweet Draught, either under the

new light of the early sun In the morning, when an empty stomach demands

food; Or, when, after the splendid feasts of a magnificent table The

overburdened stomach suffers from too heavy load, and Unequal to the

demands made upon it, seeks the aid of external heat. Then come, when

now the pot grows ruddy in the fire Crackling beneath, and you shall

behold the liquid, swelling With mingled powdered coffee, now bubble

around the brim, Draw it from the fire. Unless you should do this, the

force of The water would break forth suddenly, overflowing, and would

Sprinkle the beverage on the fire beneath. Therefore, let no such

accident disturb your joys. You should keep watch carefully when the

water no longer Restrains itself and bubbles with the heat; then return

The pot to the fire thrice and four times, until the powdered Coffee

steams in the midst of the fire and blends thoroughly with the

surrounding water.

This soothing drink ought to be boiled with skill, to be drunk With

art--not in the way men are wont to drink other beverages--And with

reason; for when you shall have taken it steaming from A quick fire, and

gradually all the dregs have settled to the Very bottom, you shall not

drink it impatiently at one gulp. But rather, sip it little by little,

and between draughts Contrive pleasant delays; and sipping, drain it in

long draughts, So long as it is still hot and burns the palate. For then

it is better, then it permeates our inmost bones, and Penetrating within

to the center of our vitals and our marrow, It pervades all our body

with its vivifying strength. Often even merely inhaling the odor with

their nostrils, men Have welcomed it, when it has bubbled up from the

bottom, More refreshing than the breeze. So much pleasure is there in a

delicious odor.

And now there remains awaiting us the other part of our task, To make

known the secret strength of the divine draught. But who could hope to

understand this wonderful blessing Or to be able to pursue so great a

miracle in verse? For really, when coffee has quietly glided into your

body, Taking itself within, it sheds a vital warmth through your Limbs,

and inspires joyous strength in your heart. Then if There is anything

undigested, with fire's help, it heats the Hidden channels, and loosens

the thin pores, through which the Useless moisture exudes, and seeds of

diseases flee from all your veins.

Wherefore come, O you who have a care for your health! You, whose triple

chin hangs on your breast, Who drag your heavy stomach of great bulk, It

is fitting for you, first of all, to indulge in the warm Beverage; for

indeed it will dry the hideous flow of moisture Which oppresses your

limbs, and sends forth streams of perspiration from your whole body. And

in a short time, the swelling of your fat belly will Gradually begin to

decrease, and it will lighten your members, now oppressed by their heavy

weight.

O happy peoples, on whom Titan, rising, looks with his first light!

Here, a rather free use of wine has never done harm. Law and religion

forbid us to quaff the flowing wine. Here one lives on coffee. Here,

then, flourishing with joyous strength One pursues life and knows not

what diseases are, Nor that child of Bacchus and companion of high

living--Gout; Nor what innumerable diseases through this union are ready

to attack our world.

Yet, indeed, the soothing power of this invigorating drink Drives sad

cares from the heart, and exhilarates the spirits. I have seen a man,

when he had not yet drained a mighty Draught of this sweet nectar, walk

silently with slow gait, His brow sad, and forehead rough with

forbidding wrinkles. This same man who had hardly bathed his throat with

the sweet Drink--no delay--clouds fled from his wrinkled brow; and He

took pleasure in teasing all with his witty sayings. Nor yet did he

pursue any one with bitter laughter. For this Harmless drink inspires no

desire of offending, the venom Is lacking, and pleasant laughter without

bitterness pleases.

And in the entire East this custom of coffee drinking Has been accepted.

And, now, France; you adopt the foreign custom, So that public shops,

one after the other, are opened for Drinking Coffee. A hanging sign of

either ivy or laurel invites the passers-by. Hither in crowds from the

entire city they assemble, and While away the time in pleasant drinking.

And when once the feelings have grown warm, acted upon by The gentle

heat, then good-humored laughter, and pleasant Arguments increase.

General gaiety ensues, the places about resound with joyous applause.

But never does the liquid imbibed overpower weary minds, but Rather, if

ever slumber presses their heavy eyes and dulls The brain; and their

strength, blunted, grows torpid in the Body, coffee puts sleep to flight

from the eyes, and slothful inactivity from the whole frame. Therefore

to absorb the sweet draught would be an advantage For those whom a great

deal of long-continued labor awaits And those who need to extend their

study far into the night.

And here I shall make known who taught the use of this pleasant Drink;

for its virtue, unknown, has lain hidden through many Years; and

reviewing, I shall relate the matter from the very beginning.

An Arab shepherd was driving his young goats to the well-known Pastures.

They were wandering through lonely wastes and cropping The grasses, when

a tree heavy with many berries--never seen before--met their eyes. At

once, as they were able to reach the low branches, they began To pull

off the leaves with many a nibble, and to pluck the tender Growth. Its

bitterness attracts. The shepherd, not knowing this, Was meanwhile

singing on the soft grass and telling the story of his loves to the

woods. But when the evening star, rising, warned him to leave the field,

And he led back his well-fed flock to their stalls, he perceived That

the beasts did not close their eyes in sweet sleep, but Joyous beyond

their wont, with wonderful delight throughout the Whole night jumped

about with wanton leaps. Trembling with sudden Fear, the shepherd stood

amazed; and crazed by the sound, he Thought these things were being done

through some wicked trick of a neighbor, or by magic art.

Not far from here a holy band of brethren had built their Humble home in

a remote valley; their lot it was to chant Praises of God, and to load

his altars with fitting gifts. Although throughout the night the

deep-toned bell resounded With great din, and summoned them to the

sacred temple, often The coming of dawn found them lingering on their

couches, Having forgotten to rise in the middle of the night. So great

was their love of sleep!

In charge of the sacred temple, revered and obeyed by his Willing

brethren, was the master, an aged man, a heavy mass of white hair on

head and chin. The shepherd, hastening, came to him and told him the

story, Imploring his aid. The old man smiled to himself; but He agreed

to go, and investigate the hidden cause of the miracle.

When he has come to the hills, he observes the lambs, together With

their mothers, gnawing the berries of an unknown plant, And cries, "This

is the cause of the trouble!" And saying no More, he at once picks the

smooth fruit from the heavily-laden Tree, and carries it home, places

it, when washed, in pure Water, cooking it over the fire, and fearlessly

drinks a large Cup of it. Forthwith a warmth pervades his veins, a

living Force is diffused through his limbs, and weariness is dispelled

from his aged body. Then, at length, the old man exulting in the

blessing thus found, Rejoices, and kindly shares with all his brothers.

They eagerly At early night-fall, indulge in pleasant banquets and drain

great bowls. No longer is it hard for them to break off sweet sleep and

to leave their soft beds as formerly. O fortunate ones! whose hearts the

sweet draught has often Bathed. No sluggish torpor holds their minds,

they briskly Rise for their prescribed duties and rejoice to outstrip

the rays of the first light.

You also, whose care it is to feed minds with divine eloquence And to

terrify with your words the souls of the guilty, you also Should indulge

in the pleasant drink; for, as you know, it Strengthens weakness. Keen

vigor is gained for the limbs from This source, and spreads through the

whole body. From this source, Too, shall come new strength and new power

to your voice. You also, whom oft harmful vapors harass, whose sick

brain the dangerous vertigo shakes, Ah, come! In this sweet liquid is a

ready medicine And none other better to calm undue agitation. Apollo

planted this power for himself, they say, The story is worthy to be

sung.

Once a disease most deadly to life assailed the disciples of Apollo's

Mount. It spread far and wide, and attacked the brain itself. Already

all the people of genius were suffering with this Disease; and the arts,

deserted, were languishing along with The workers. Some even pretended

to have the disease, and Assuming feigned suffering, gave themselves

over to an idle life. Unpleasing work grew distasteful, and deadly

inertia increased Everywhere. It pleased all, now released from work and

labors, To indulge in care-free quiet. Apollo, full of indignation, did

not endure longer that the deadly Contagion of such easy ruin should

creep over them thus. And, That he might take away from seers all means

of deception, he Enticed from the rich bosom of the earth this friendly

plant, Than which no other is more ready either to refresh for work the

Mind wearied by long studies, or to sooth troublesome sorrows of the

head.

O plant, given to the human race by the gift of the Gods! No other out

of the entire list of plants has ever vied with you. On your account

sailors sail from our shores And fearlessly conquer the threatening

winds, sandbanks and Dreadful rocks. With your nourishing growth you

surpass dittany, Ambrosia, and fragrant panacea. Grim diseases flee from

you. To You trusting health clings as a companion, and also the merry

Crowd, conversation, amusing jokes, and sweet whisperings.

The poet Belighi toward the close of the sixteenth century composed a

poem, which, freely translated, runs:

In Damascus, in Aleppo, in great Cairo,

At every turn is to be found

That mild fruit which gives so beloved a drink,

Before coming to court to triumph.

There this seditious disturber of the world,

Has, by its unparalleled virtue,

Supplanted all wines from this blessed day.

Jacques Delille (1738-1813) the didactic poet of nature, in _chant vi_

of his "_Three Reigns of Nature_," thus apostrophizes the "divine

nectar" and describes its preparation:

DIVINE COFFEE

_Translation from the French_

A liquid there is to the poet most dear,

'T was lacking to Virgil, adored by Voltaire,

'T is thou, divine coffee, for thine is the art,

Without turning the head yet to gladden the heart.

And thus though my palate be dulled by age,

With joy I partake of thy dear beverage.

How glad I prepare me thy nectar most precious,

No soul shall usurp me a rite so delicious;

On the ambient flame when the black charcoal burns,

The gold of thy bean to rare ebony turns,

I alone, 'gainst the cone, wrought with fierce iron teeth.

Make thy fruitage cry out with its bitter-sweet breath;

Till charmed with such perfume, with care I entrust

To the pot on my hearth the rare spice-laden dust:

First to calm, then excite, till it seethingly whirls,

With an eye all attention I gaze till it boils.

At last now the liquid comes slow to repose;

In the hot, smoking vessel its wealth I depose,

My cup and thy nectar; from wild reeds expressed,

America's honey my table has blest;

All is ready; Japan's gay enamel invites--

And the tribute of two worlds thy prestige unites:

Come, Nectar divine, inspire thou me,

I wish but Antigone, dessert and thee;

For scarce have I tasted thy odorous steam,

When quick from thy clime, soothing warmths round me stream,

Attentive my thoughts rise and flow light as air,

Awaking my senses and soothing my care.

Ideas that but late moved so dull and depressed,

Behold, they come smiling in rich garments dressed!

Some genius awakes me, my course is begun;

For I drink with each drop a bright ray of the sun.

Maumenet addressed to Galland the following verses:

If slumber, friend, too near, with some late glass should creep--

Dull, poppy-perfumed sleep--

If a too fumous wine confounds at length thy brain--

Take coffee then--this juice divine

Shall banish sleep and steam of vap'rous wine,

And with its timely aid fresh vigor thou shalt find.

Castel, in his poem, _Les Plantes_ (The Plants) could not omit the

coffee trees of the tropics. He thus addressed them in 1811:

Bright plants, the favorites of Phoebus,

In these climes the rarest virtues offer,

Delicious Mocha, thy sap, enchantress,

Awakens genius, outvalues Parnasse!

In a collection of the _Songs of Brittany_ in the Brest library there

are many stanzas in praise of coffee. A Breton poet has composed a

little piece of ninety-six verses in which he describes the powerful

attraction that coffee has for women and the possible effects on

domestic happiness. The first time that coffee was used in Brittany,

says an old song of that country, only the nobility drank it, and now

all the common people are using it, yet the greater part of them have

not even bread.

A French poet of the eighteenth century produced the following:

LINES ON COFFEE

_Translation from the French_

Good coffee is more than a savory cup,

Its aroma has power to dry liquor up.

By coffee you get upon leaving the table

A mind full of wisdom, thoughts lucid, nerves stable;

And odd tho' it be, 't is none the less true,

Coffee's aid to digestion permits dining anew.

And what 's very true, tho' few people know it,

Fine coffee 's the basis of every fine poet;

For many a writer as windy as Boreas

Has been vastly improved by the drink ever glorious.

Coffee brightens the dullness of heavy philosophy,

And opens the science of mighty geometry.

Our law-makers, too, when the nectar imbibing,

Plan wondrous reforms, quite beyond the describing;

The odor of coffee they delight in inhaling,

And promise the country to alter laws ailing.

From the brow of the scholar coffee chases the wrinkles,

And mirth in his eyes like a firefly twinkles;

And he, who before was but a hack of old Homer,

Becomes an original, and that 's no misnomer.

Observe the astronomer who 's straining his eyes

In watching the planets which soar thro' the skies;

Alas, all those bright bodies seem hopelessly far

Till coffee discloses his own guiding star.

But greatest of wonders that coffee effects

Is to aid the news-editor as he little expects;

Coffee whispers the secrets of hidden diplomacy,

Hints rumors of wars and of scandals so racy.

Inspiration by coffee must be nigh unto magic,

For it conjures up facts that are certainly tragic;

And for a few pennies, coffee's small price per cup,

"Ye editor's" able to swallow the Universe up.

Esménard celebrated Captain de Clieu's romantic voyage to Martinique

with the coffee plants from the Jardin des Plantes, in some admirable

verses quoted in chapter II.

Among other notable poetic flights in praise of coffee produced in

France mention should be made of: "_L'Elogé du Café_" (Eulogy of Coffee)

a song in twenty-four couplets, Paris, Jacques Estienne, 1711; _Le Café_

(Coffee), a fragment from the fourth _chant_ (song) of _La Grandeur de

Dieu dans les merveilles de la Nature_ (The Grandeur of God in the

Wonders of Nature) Marseilles; _Le Café_, extract from the fourth

gastronomic song, by Berchoux; "_A Mon Café_" (To My Coffee), stanzas

written by Ducis; _Le Café_, anonymous stanzas inserted in the

_Macedoine Poetique_, 1824; a poem in Latin in the Abbé Olivier's

collection; _Le Bouquet Blanc et le Bouquet Noir, poesie en quatre

chants; Le Café_, C.D. Mery, 1837; _Elogé du Café_, S. Melaye, 1852.

Many Italian poets have sung the praises of coffee. L. Barotti wrote his

poem, _Il Caffè_ in 1681. Giuseppe Parini (1729-1799), Italy's great

satirical and lyric poet and critic of the eighteenth century, in _Il

Giorno_ (_The Day_), gives a delightful pen picture of the manners and

customs of Milan's polite society of the period. William Dean Howells

quotes as follows from these poems (his own translation) in his _Modern

Italian Poets_. The feast is over, and the lady signals to the cavalier

that it is time to leave the table:

Spring to thy feet

The first of all, and, drawing near thy lady,

Remove her chair and offer her thy hand,

And lead her to the other room, nor suffer longer

That the stale reek of viands shall offend

Her delicate sense. Thee with the rest invites

The grateful odor of the coffee, where

It smokes upon a smaller table hid

And graced with Indian webs. The redolent gums

That meanwhile burn, sweeten and purify

The heavy atmosphere, and banish thence

All lingering traces of the feast. Ye sick

And poor, whom misery or whom hope, perchance!

Has guided in the noonday to these doors.

Tumultuous, naked, and unsightly throng,

With mutilated limbs and squalid faces,

In litters and on crutches from afar

Comfort yourselves, and with expanded nostrils

Drink in the nectar of the feast divine

That favourable zephyrs waft to you;

But do not dare besiege these noble precincts,

Importunately offering her that reigns

Within your loathsome spectacle of woe!

And now, sir, 't is your office to prepare

The tiny cup that then shall minister,

Slow sipped, its liquor to thy lady's lips;

And now bethink thee whether she prefer

The boiling beverage much or little tempered

With sweet; or if, perchance, she likes it best,

As doth the barbarous spouse, then when she sits

Upon brocades of Persia, with light fingers,

The bearded visage of her lord caressing.

This is from _Il Mezzogiorno_ (_Noon_). The other three poems, rounding

out _The Day_, are _Il Mattino_ (_Morning_), _Il Vespre_ (_Evening_),

and _La Notte_ (_Night_). In _Il Mattino_, Parini sings:

Should dreary hypochondria's woes oppress thee,

Should round thy charming limbs in too great measure

Thy flesh increase, then with thy lips do honor

To that clear beverage, made from the well-bronzed,

The smoking, ardent beans Aleppo sends thee,

And distant Mocha too, a thousand ship-loads;

When slowly sipped it knows no rival.

Belli's _Il Caffè_ supplies a partial bibliography of the Italian

literature on coffee. There are many poems, some of them put to music.

As late as 1921, there were published in Bologna some advertising verses

on coffee by G.B. Zecchini with music by Cesare Cantino.

Pope Leo XIII, in his Horatian poem on _Frugality_ composed in his

eighty-eighth year, thus verses his appreciation of coffee:

Last comes the beverage of the Orient shore,

Mocha, far off, the fragrant berries bore.

Taste the dark fluid with a dainty lip,

Digestion waits on pleasure as you sip.

Peter Altenberg, a Vienna poet, thus celebrated the cafés of his native

city:

TO THE COFFEE HOUSE!

When you are worried, have trouble of one sort or another--to the coffee

house!

When she did not keep her appointment, for one reason or other--to the

coffee house!

When your shoes are torn and dilapidated--coffee house!

When your income is four hundred crowns and you spend five hundred--coffee

house!

You are a chair warmer in some office, while your ambition led you to seek

professional honors--coffee house!

You could not find a mate to suit you--coffee house!

You feel like committing suicide--coffee house!

You hate and despise human beings, and at the same time you can not be

happy without them--coffee house!

You compose a poem which you can not inflict upon friends you meet in the

street--coffee house!

When your coal scuttle is empty, and your gas ration exhausted--coffee

house!

When you need money for cigarettes, you touch the head waiter in

the--coffee house!

When you are locked out and haven't the money to pay for unlocking the

house door--coffee house!

When you acquire a new flame, and intend provoking the old one, you take

the new one to the old one's--coffee house!

When you feel like hiding you dive into a--coffee house!

When you want to be seen in a new suit--coffee house!

When you can not get anything on trust anywhere else--coffee house!

English poets from Milton to Keats celebrated coffee. Milton (1608-1674)

in his _Comus_ thus acclaimed the beverage:

One sip of this

Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight

Beyond the bliss of dreams.

Alexander Pope, poet and satirist (1688-1744), has the oft-quoted lines:

Coffee which makes the politician wise,

And see through all things with his half-shut eyes.

In Carruthers' _Life of Pope_, we read that this poet inhaled the steam

of coffee in order to obtain relief from the headaches to which he was

subject. We can well understand the inspiration which called forth from

him the following lines when he was not yet twenty:

As long as Mocha's happy tree shall grow,

While berries crackle, or while mills shall go;

While smoking streams from silver spouts shall glide,

Or China's earth receive the sable tide,

While coffee shall to British nymphs be dear,

While fragrant steams the bended head shall cheer,

Or grateful bitters shall delight the taste,

So long her honors, name and praise shall last.

Pope's famous _Rape of the Lock_ grew out of coffee-house gossip. The

poem contains the passage on coffee already quoted:

For lo! the board with cups and spoons is crowned;

The berries crackle and the mill turns round;

On shining altars of Japan they raise

The silver lamp: the fiery spirits blaze:

From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide,

While China's earth receives the smoking tide.

At once they gratify their scent and taste.

And frequent cups prolong the rich repast

Straight hover round the fair her airy band;

Some, as she sipped, the fuming liquor fanned:

Some o'er her lap their careful plumes displayed,

Trembling, and conscious of the rich brocade.

Coffee (which makes the politician wise,

And see through all things with his half-shut eyes.)

Sent up in vapors to the baron's brain

New stratagems, the radiant lock to gain.

Pope often broke the slumbers of his servant at night by calling him to

prepare a cup of coffee; but for regular serving, it was his custom to

grind and to prepare it upon the table.

William Cowper's fine tribute to "the cups that cheer but not

inebriate", a phrase which he is said to have borrowed from Bishop

Berkeley, was addressed to tea and not to coffee, to which it has not

infrequently been wrongfully attributed. It is one of the most pleasing

pictures in _The Task_.

Cowper refers to coffee but once in his writings. In his _Pity for Poor

Africans_ he expresses himself as "shocked at the ignorance of slaves":

I pity them greatly, but I must be mum

For how could we do without sugar and rum?

Especially sugar, so needful we see;

What! Give up our desserts, our coffee and tea?

thus contenting himself, like many others, with words of pity where more

active protest might sacrifice his personal ease and comfort.

Leigh Hunt (1784-1859), and John Keats (1795-1834), were worshippers at

the shrine of coffee; while Charles Lamb, famous poet, essayist,

humorist, and critic, has celebrated in verse the exploit of Captain de

Clieu in the following delightful verses:

THE COFFEE SLIPS

Whene'er I fragrant coffee drink,

I on the generous Frenchman think,

Whose noble perseverance bore

The tree to Martinico's shore.

While yet her colony was new,

Her island products but a few;

Two shoots from off a coffee tree

He carried with him o'er the sea.

Each little tender coffee slip

He waters daily in the ship.

And as he tends his embryo trees.

Feels he is raising 'midst the seas

Coffee groves, whose ample shade

Shall screen the dark Creolian maid.

But soon, alas! His darling pleasure

In watching this his precious treasure

Is like to fade--for water fails

On board the ship in which he sails.

Now all the reservoirs are shut.

The crew on short allowance put;

So small a drop is each man's share.

Few leavings you may think there are

To water these poor coffee plants--

But he supplies their grasping wants,

Even from his own dry parched lips

He spares it for his coffee slips.

Water he gives his nurslings first,

Ere he allays his own deep thirst,

Lest, if he first the water sip,

He bear too far his eager lip.

He sees them droop for want of more;

Yet when they reach the destined shore,

With pride the heroic gardener sees

A living sap still in his trees.

The islanders his praise resound;

Coffee plantations rise around;

And Martinico loads her ships

With produce from those dear-saved slips.

In John Keats' amusing fantasy, _Cap and Bells_, the Emperor Elfinan

greets Hum, the great soothsayer, and offers him refreshment:

"You may have sherry in silver, hock in gold, or glass'd champagne

... what cup will you drain?"

"Commander of the Faithful!" answered Hum,

"In preference to these, I'll merely taste

A thimble-full of old Jamaica rum."

"A simple boon," said Elfinan; "thou mayst

Have Nantz, with which my morning coffee's laced."

But Hum accepts the glass of Nantz, without the coffee, "made racy with

the third part of the least drop of _crème de citron_, crystal clear."

Numerous broadsides printed in London, 1660 to 1675, have been referred

to in chapter X. Few of them possess real literary merit.

"Coffee and Crumpets" has been much quoted. It was published in

_Fraser's Magazine_, in 1837. Its author calls himself "Launcelot

Littledo". The poem is quite long, and only those portions are printed

here that refer particularly to "Yemen's fragrant berry":

COFFEE AND CRUMPETS

_By Launcelot Littledo of Pump Court, Temple, Barrister-at-law._

There's ten o'clock! From Hampstead to the Tower

The bells are chanting forth a lusty carol;

Wrangling, with iron tongues, about the hour,

Like fifty drunken fishwives at a quarrel;

Cautious policemen shun the coming shower;

Thompson and Fearon tap another barrel;

"_Dissolve frigus, lignum super foco.

Large reponens._" Now, come Orinoco!

To puff away an hour, and drink a cup,

A brimming _breakfast_-cup of ruddy Mocha--

Clear, luscious, dark, like eyes that lighten up

The raven hair, fair cheek, and _bella boca_

Of Florence maidens. I can never sup

Of perigourd, but (_guai a chi la tocca!_)

I'm doomed to indigestion. So to settle

This strife eternal,--Betty, bring the kettle!

Coffee! oh, Coffee! Faith, it is surprising.

'Mid all the poets, good, and bad, and worse.

Who've scribbled (Hock or Chian eulogizing)

Post and papyrus with "Immortal verse"--

Melodiously similitudinising

In Sapphics languid or Alcaics terse

No one, my little brown Arabian berry,.

Hath sung thy praises--'tis surprising! very!

Were I a poet now, whose ready rhymes.

Like Tommy Moore's, came tripping to their places--

Reeling along a merry troll of chimes,

With careless truth,--a dance of fuddled Graces;

Hear it--_Gazette_, _Post_, _Herald_, _Standard_, _Times_,

I'd write an epic! Coffee for its basis;

Sweet as e'er warbled forth from cockney throttles

Since Bob Montgomery's or Amos Cottle's.

Thou sleepy-eyed Chinese--enticing siren,

Pekoe! the Muse hath said in praise of thee,

"That cheers but not inebriates"; and Byron

Hath called thy sister "Queen of Tears", Bohea!

And he, Anacreon of Rome's age of iron,

Says, how untruly "_Quis non potius te_."

While coffee, thou--bill-plastered gables say,

Art like old Cupid, "roasted every day."

I love, upon a rainy night, as this is,

When rarely and more rare the coaches rattle

From street to street, to sip thy fragrant kisses;

While from the Strand remote some drunken battle

Far-faintly echoes, and the kettle hisses

Upon the glowing hob. No tittle-tattle

To make a single thought of mine an alien

From thee, my coffee-pot, my fount Castalian.

The many intervening verses cover an unhappy termination to an otherwise

delightful ball. He is sitting with his charming "Mary", about to ask

her to be his bride, when the unfortunate overturning of a glass of red

wine into her white satin gown, at the same time overthrows all his

dreams of bliss, "for the shrew displaces the angel he adored", and he

resigns himself to the life of "a man in chambers."

'Tis thus I sit and sip, and sip and think.

And think and sip again, and dip in _Fraser_,

A health, King Oliver! to thee I drink:

Long may the public have thee to amaze her.

Like _Figaro_, thou makest one's eyelids wink,

Twirling on practised palm thy polished razor--

True Horace temper, smoothed on attic strop;

Ah! thou couldst "_faire la barbe a tout l'Europe_."

* * * * *

Come, Oliver, and tell us what the news is;

An easy chair awaits thee--come and fill 't.

Come, I invoke thee, as they do the muses,

And thou shalt choose thy tipple as thou wilt.

And if thy lips my sober cup refuses,

For ruddier drops the purple grape has spilt,

We can sing, sipping in alternate verses,

Thy drink and mine, like Corydon and Thyrsis.

* * * * *

Fill the bowl, but not with wine.

Potent port, or fiery sherry;

For this milder cup of mine

Crush me Yemen's fragrant berry.

* * * * *

Gentle is the grape's deep cluster,

But the wine's a wayward child;

Nectar _this_! of meeker lustre--

_This_ the cup that "draws it mild."

Deeply drink its streams divine--

Fill the cup, but not with wine.

Prior and Montague inserted the following poetic vignette in their _City

Mouse and Country Mouse_, written in burlesque of Dryden's _Hind and

Panther_:

Then on they jogg'd; and since an hour of talk

Might cut a banter on the tedious walk,

As I remember, said the sober mouse,

I've heard much talk of the Wits' Coffee-house;

Thither, says Brindle, thou shalt go and see

Priests supping coffee, sparks and poets tea;

Here rugged frieze, there quality well drest,

These baffling the grand Senior, those the Test,

And there shrewd guesses made, and reasons given,

That human laws were never made in heaven;

But, above all, what shall oblige thy sight,

And fill thy eyeballs with a vast delight,

Is the poetic judge of sacred wit,

Who does i' th' darkness of his glory sit;

And as the moon who first receives the light,

With which she makes these nether regions bright,

So does he shine, reflecting from afar

The rays he borrowed from a better star;

For rules, which from Corneille and Rapin flow,

Admired by all the scribbling herd below,

From French tradition while he does dispense

Unerring truths, 't is schism, a damned offense,

To question his, or trust your private sense.

Geoffrey Sephton, an English poet and novelist, many years resident in

Vienna, whose fantastic stories and fairy tales are well known in

Europe, has written the following sonnets on coffee:

TO THE MIGHTY MONARCH, KING KAUHEE[350]

_By Geoffrey Sephton_

I

Away with opiates! Tantalising snares

To dull the brain with phantoms that are not.

Let no such drugs the subtle senses rot

With visions stealing softly unawares

Into the chambers of the soul. Nightmares

Ride in their wake, the spirits to besot.

Seek surer means, to banish haunting cares:

Place on the board the steaming Coffee-pot!

O'er luscious fruit, dessert and sparkling flask,

Let proudly rule as King the Great Kauhee,

For he gives joy divine to all that ask,

Together with his spouse, sweet _Eau de Vie_

Oh, let us 'neath his sovran pleasure bask.

Come, raise the fragrant cup and bend the knee!

II

O great Kauhee, thou democratic Lord,

Born 'neath the tropic sun and bronzed to splendour

In lands of Wealth and Wisdom, who can render

Such service to the wandering Human Horde

As thou at every proud or humble board?

Beside the honest workman's homely fender,

'Mid dainty dames and damsels sweetly tender,

In china, gold and silver, have we poured

Thy praise and sweetness, Oriental King.

Oh, how we love to hear the kettle sing

In joy at thy approach, embodying

The bitter, sweet and creamy sides of life;

Friend of the People, Enemy of Strife,

Sons of the Earth have born thee labouring.

In America, too, poets have sung in praise of coffee. The somewhat

doubtful "kind that mother used to make" is celebrated in James Whitcomb

Riley's classic poem:

LIKE HIS MOTHER USED TO MAKE[351]

_"Uncle Jake's Place," St. Jo., Mo., 1874._

"I was born in Indiany," says a stranger, lank and slim,

As us fellers in the restaurant was kindo' guyin' him,

And Uncle Jake was slidin' him another punkin pie

And a' extry cup o' coffee, with a twinkle in his eye--

"I was born in Indiany--more'n forty years ago--

And I hain't ben back in twenty--and I'm work-in' back'ards slow;

But I've et in ever' restarunt twixt here and Santy Fee,

And I want to state this coffee tastes like gittin' home, to me!"

"Pour us out another. Daddy," says the feller, warmin' up,

A-speakin' crost a saucerful, as Uncle tuk his cup--

"When I see yer sign out yander," he went on, to Uncle Jake--

"'Come in and git some coffee like yer mother used to make'--

I thought of _my_ old mother, and the Posey county farm,

And me a little kid again, a-hangin' in her arm,

As she set the pot a-bilin', broke the eggs and poured 'em in"--

And the feller kindo' halted, with a trimble in his chin;

And Uncle Jake he fetched the feller's coffee back, and stood

As solemn, fer a minute, as a' undertaker would;

Then he sorto' turned and tiptoed to'rds the kitchen door--and next,

Here comes his old wife out with him, a-rubbin' of her specs--

And she rushes fer the stranger, and she hollers out, "It's him!--

Thank God we've met him comin'!--Don't you know yer mother, Jim?"

And the feller, as he grabbed her, says,--"You bet I hain't forgot--

But," wipin' of his eyes, says he, "yer coffee's mighty hot!"

One of the most delightful coffee poems in English is Francis Saltus'

(d. 1889) sonnet on "the voluptuous berry", as found in _Flasks and

Flagons_:

COFFEE

Voluptuous berry! Where may mortals find

Nectars divine that can with thee compare,

When, having dined, we sip thy essence rare,

And feel towards wit and repartee inclined?

Thou wert of sneering, cynical Voltaire,

The only friend; thy power urged Balzac's mind

To glorious effort; surely Heaven designed

Thy devotees superior joys to share.

Whene'er I breathe thy fumes, 'mid Summer stars,

The Orient's splendent pomps my vision greet.

Damascus, with its myriad minarets, gleams!

I see thee, smoking, in immense bazaars,

Or yet, in dim seraglios, at the feet

Of blond Sultanas, pale with amorous dreams!

Arthur Gray, in _Over the Black Coffee_ (1902) has made the following

contribution to the poetry of coffee, with an unfortunate reflection on

tea, which might well have been omitted:

COFFEE

O, boiling, bubbling, berry, bean!

Thou consort of the kitchen queen--

Browned and ground of every feature,

The only aromatic creature,

For which we long, for which we feel,

The breath of morn, the perfumed meal.

For what is tea? It can but mean,

Merely the mildest go-between.

Insipid sobriety of thought and mind

It "cuts no figure"--we can find--

Save peaceful essays, gentle walks,

Purring cats, old ladies' talks--

* * * * *

But coffee! can other tales unfold.

Its history's written round and bold--

Brave buccaneers upon the "Spanish Main",

The army's march across the lenght'ning plain,

The lone prospector wandering o'er the hill,

The hunter's camp, thy fragrance all distill.

So here's a health to coffee! Coffee hot!

A morning toast! Bring on another pot.

_The Tea and Coffee Trade Journal_ published in 1909 the following

excellent stanzas by William A. Price:

AN ODE TO COFFEE

Oh, thou most fragrant, aromatic joy, impugned, abused, and often stormed

against,

And yet containing all the blissfulness that in a tiny cup could be

condensed!

Give thy contemners calm, imperial scorn--

For thou wilt reign through ages yet unborn!

Some ancient Arab, so the legend tells, first found thee--may his memory be

blest!

The world-wide sign of brotherhood today, the binding tie between the East

and West!

Good coffee pleases in a Persian dell,

And Blackfeet Indians make it more than well.

The lonely traveler in the desert range, if thou art with him, smiles at

eventide--

The sailor, as thy perfume bubbles forth, laughs at the ocean as it rages

wide--

And where the camps of fighting men are found

Thy fragrance hovers o'er each battleground.

"Use, not abuse, the good things of this life"--that is a motto from the

Prophet's days,

And, dealing with thee thus, we ne'er shall come to troublous times or

parting of the ways.

Comfort and solace both endure with thee,

Rich, royal berry of the coffee tree!

The _New York Tribune_ published in 1915 the following lines by Louis

Untermeyer, which were subsequently included in his "---- _and Other

Poets_."[352]

GILBERT K. CHESTERTON RISES TO THE TOAST OF COFFEE

Strong wine it is a mocker; strong wine it is a beast.

It grips you when it starts to rise; it is the Fabled Yeast.

You should not offer ale or beer from hops that are freshly picked,

Nor even Benedictine to tempt a benedict.

For wine has a spell like the lure of hell, and the devil has mixed the

brew;

And the friends of ale are a sort of pale and weary, witless crew--

And the taste of beer is a sort of a queer and undecided brown--

But, comrades, I give you coffee--drink it up, drink it down.

With a fol-de-rol-dol and a fol-de-rol-dee, etc.

Oh, cocoa's the drink for an elderly don who lives with an elderly niece;

And tea is the drink for studios and loud and violent peace--

And brandy's the drink that spoils the clothes when the bottle breaks in

the trunk;

But coffee's the drink that is drunken by men who will never be drunk.

So, gentlemen, up with the festive cup, where Mocha and Java unite;

It clears the head when things are said too brilliant to be bright!

It keeps the stars from the golden bars and the lips of the tipsy town;

So, here's to strong, black coffee--drink it up, drink it down!

With a fol-de-rol-dol and a fol-de-rol-dee, etc.

The American breakfast cup is celebrated in up-to-date American style in

the following by Helen Rowland in the _New York Evening World_:

WHAT EVERY WIFE KNOWS

Give me a man who drinks good, hot, dark, strong coffee for breakfast!

A man who smokes a good, dark, fat cigar after dinner!

You may marry your milk-faddist, or your anti-coffee crank, as you will!

But I know the magic of the coffee pot!

Let me make my Husband's coffee--and I care not who makes eyes at him!

Give me two matches a day--

One to start the coffee with, at breakfast, and one for his cigar, after

dinner!

And I defy all the houris in Christendom to light a new flame in his heart!

Oh, sweet supernal coffee-pot!

Gentle panacea of domestic troubles,

Faithful author of that sweet nepenthe which deadens all the ills that

married folks are heir to.

Cheery, glittering, soul-soothing, warmed hearted, inanimate friend!

What wife can fail to admit the peace and serenity she owes to _you_?

To you, who stand between her and all her early morning troubles--

Between her and the before-breakfast grouch--

Between her and the morning-after headache--

Between her and the cold-gray-dawn scrutiny?

To you, who supply the golden nectar that stimulates the jaded masculine

soul,

Soothes the shaky masculine nerves, stirs the fagged masculine mind,

inspires the slow masculine sentiment,

And starts the sluggish blood a-flowing and the whole day right!

What is it, I ask you, when he comes down to breakfast dry of mouth, and

touchy of temper--

That gives him pause, and silences that scintillating barb of sarcasm on

the tip of his tongue,

With which he meant to impale you?

It is the sweet aroma of the coffee-pot--the thrilling thought of that

first delicious sip!

What is it, on the morning after the club dance,

That hides your weary, little, washed-out face and straggling, uncurled

coiffure from his critical eyes?

It is the generous coffee-pot, standing like a guardian angel between you

and him!

And in those many vital psychological moments, during the honeymoon, which

decide for or against the romance and happiness of all the rest of married

life--

Those critical before-breakfast moments when temperament meets temperament,

and will meets "won't"--

What is it that halts you on the brink of tragedy,

And distracts you from the temptation to answer back?

It is the absorbing anxiety of watching the coffee boil!

What is it that warms his veins and soothes your nerves,

And turns all the world suddenly from a dismal gray vale of disappointment

to a bright rosy garden of hope--

And starts _another_ day gliding smoothly along like a new motor car?

What is it that will do more to transform a man from a fiend into an angel

than baptism in the River Jordan?

_It is the first cup of coffee in the morning!_

_Coffee in Dramatic Literature_

Coffee was first "dramatized", so to speak, in England, where we read

that Charles II and the Duke of Yorke attended the first performance of

_Tarugo's Wiles, or the Coffee House_, a comedy, in 1667, which Samuel

Pepys described as "the most ridiculous and insipid play I ever saw in

my life." The author was Thomas St. Serf. The piece opens in a lively

manner, with a request on the part of its fashionable hero for a change

of clothes. Accordingly, Tarugo puts off his "vest, hat, perriwig, and

sword," and serves the guests to coffee, while the apprentice acts his

part as a gentleman customer. Presently other "customers of all trades

and professions" come dropping into the coffee house. These are not

always polite to the supposed coffee-man; one complains of his coffee

being "nothing but warm water boyl'd with burnt beans," while another

desires him to bring "chocolette that's prepar'd with water, for I hate

that which is encouraged with eggs." The pedantry and nonsense uttered

by a "schollar" character is, perhaps, an unfair specimen of

coffee-house talk; it is especially to be noticed that none of the

guests ventures upon the dangerous ground of politics.

In the end, the coffee-master grows tired of his clownish visitors,

saying plainly, "This rudeness becomes a suburb tavern rather than my

coffee house"; and with the assistance of his servants he "thrusts 'em

all out of doors, after the schollars and customers pay."

In 1694, there was published Jean Baptiste Rosseau's comedy, _Le Caffè_,

which appears to have been acted only once in Paris, although a later

English dramatist says it met with great applause in the French capital.

_Le Caffè_ was written in Laurent's café, which was frequented by

Fontenelle, Houdard de la Motte, Dauchet, the abbé Alary Boindin, and

others. Voltaire said that "this work of a young man without any

experience either of the world of letters or of the theater seems to

herald a new genius."

About this time it was the fashion for the coffee-house keepers of

Paris, and the waiters, to wear Armenian costumes; for Pascal had

builded better than he knew. In _La Foire Saint-Germain_, a comedy by

Dancourt, played in 1696, one of the principal characters is old

"Lorange, a coffee merchant clothed as an Armenian". In scene 5, he says

to Mlle. Mousset, "a seller of house dresses" that he has been "a

naturalized Armenian for three weeks."

Mrs. Susannah Centlivre (1667?-1723), in her comedy, _A Bold Stroke for

a Wife_, produced about 1719, has a scene laid in Jonathan's coffee

house about that period. While the stock jobbers are talking in the

first scene of act II, the coffee boys are crying, "Fresh Coffee,

gentlemen, fresh coffee?... Bohea tea, gentlemen?"

Henry Fielding (1707-1754) published "_The Coffee-House Politician, or

Justice caught in his own trap_," a comedy, in 1730.

_The Coffee House, a dramatick Piece by James Miller_, was performed at

the Theater Royal in Drury Lane in 1737. The interior of Dick's coffee

house figured as an engraved frontispiece to the published version of

the play.

The author states in the preface that "this piece is partly taken from a

comedy of one act written many years ago in French by the famous

Rosseau, called 'Le Caffè', which met with great applause in Paris."

The coffee house in the play is conducted by the Widow Notable, who has

a pretty daughter for whom, like all good mothers, she is anxious to

arrange a suitable marriage.

In the first scene, an acrimonious conversation takes place between

Puzzle, the Politician, and Bays, the poet, in which squabble the Pert

Beau and the Solemn Beau, and other habitués of the place take part.

Puzzle discovers that a comedian and other players are in the room, and

insists that they be ejected or forbidden the house. The Widow is justly

incensed, and indignantly replies:

Forbid the Players my House, Sir! Why, Sir, I get more by them in a

Week than I do by you in seven Years. You come here and hold a

paper in your hand for an Hour, disturb the whole Company with your

Politics, call for Pen and Ink, Paper and Wax, beg a Pipe of

Tobacco, burn out half a Candle, eat half a Pound of Sugar, and

then go away, and pay Two-pence for a Dish of Coffee. I could soon

shut up my doors, if I had not some other good People to make

amends for what I lose by such as you, Sir.

All join the Widow in scoffing and jeering, and exit the highly

discomfited Puzzle. The pretty little Kitty tricks her mother with the

aid of the Player, and marries the man of her choice, but is forgiven

when he is found to be a gentleman of the Temple.

The play is in one act and has several songs. The last is one of five

stanzas, with music "set by Mr. Caret:"

SONG

What Pleasures a Coffee-House daily bestows!

To read and hear how the World merrily goes;

To laugh, sing and prattle of This, That, and T' other;

And be flatter'd and ogl'd and kiss'd too, like Mother.

Here the Rake, after Roving and Tipling all Night,

For his Groat in the Morning may set his Head right.

And the Beau, who ne'er fouls his White fingers with Brass,

May have his Sixpen' worth of--Stare in the Glass.

The Doctor, who'd always be ready to kill,

May ev'ry Day here take his Stand, if he will;

And the soldier, who'd bluster and challenge secure,

May draw boldly here, for--we'll hold him he's sure.

The Lawyer, who's always in quest of his Prey,

May find fools here to feed upon every Day;

And the sage Politician, in Coffee-Grounds known,

May point out the Fate of each Crown but--his own.

Then, Gallants, since ev'rything here you may find

That pleasures the Fancy or profits the Mind,

Come all, and take each a full Dish of Delight,

And crowd up our Coffee-House every night.

[Illustration: SONG FROM "THE COFFEE HOUSE"]

John Timbs tells us this play "met with great opposition on its

representation, owing to its being stated that the characters were

intended for a particular family (that of Mrs. Yarrow and her daughter)

who kept Dick's, the coffee-house which the artist had inadvertently

selected as the frontispiece. It appears," Timbs continues, "that the

landlady and her daughter were the reigning toast of the Templars, who

then frequented Dick's; and took the matter up so strongly that they

united to condemn the farce on the night of its production; they

succeeded, and even extended their resentment to everything suspected to

be this author's (the Rev. James Miller) for a considerable time after."

Carlo Goldoni, who has been called the Molière of Italy, wrote _La

Bottega di Caffè_, (The Coffee House), a naturalistic comedy of

bourgeois Venice, satirizing scandal and gambling, in 1750. The scene is

a Venetian coffee house (probably Florian's), where several actions take

place simultaneously. Among several remarkable studies is one of a

prattling slanderer, Don Marzio, which ranks as one of the finest bits

of original character drawing the stage has ever seen. The play was

produced in English by the Chicago Theatre Society in 1912.

Chatfield-Taylor[353] thinks Voltaire probably imitated _La Bottega di

Caffè_ in his _Le Café, ou l'Ecossaise_. Goldoni was a lover of coffee,

a regular frequenter of the coffee houses of his time, from which he

drew much in the way of inspiration. Pietro Longhi, called the Venetian

Hogarth, in one of his pictures presenting life and manners in Venice

during the years of her decadence, shows Goldoni as a visitor in a café

of the period, with a female mendicant soliciting alms. It is in the

collection of Professor Italico Brass.

Goldoni, in the comedy _The Persian Wife_, gives us a glimpse of coffee

making in the middle of the eighteenth century. He puts these words into

the mouth of Curcuma, the slave:

Here is the coffee, ladies, coffee native of Arabia,

And carried by the caravans into Ispahan.

The coffee of Arabia is certainly always the best.

While putting forth its leaves on one side, upon the other the flowers

appear;

Born of a rich soil, it wishes shade, or but little sun.

Planted every three years is this little tree in the surface of the soil.

The fruit, though truly very small,

Should yet grow large enough to become somewhat green.

Later, when used, it should be freshly ground.

Kept in a warm and dry place and jealously guarded.

* * * * *

But a small quantity is needed to prepare it.

Put in the desired quantity and do not spill it over the fire;

Heat it till the foam rises, then let it subside again away from the fire;

Do this seven times at least, and coffee is made in a moment.

In 1760 there appeared in France _Le Café, ou l'Ecossaise, comédie_,

which purported to have been written by a Mr. Hume, an Englishman, and

to have been translated into French. It was in reality the work of

Voltaire, who had brought out another play, _Socrates_, in the same

manner a short time before. _Le Café_, was translated into English the

same year under the title _The Coffee House, or Fair Fugitive_. The

title page says the play is written by "Mr. Voltaire" and translated

from the French. It is a comedy in five acts. The principal characters

are: Fabrice, a good-natured man and the keeper of the coffee house;

Constantia, the fair fugitive; Sir William Woodville, a gentleman of

distinction under misfortune; Belmont, in love with Constantia, a man of

fortune and interest; Freeport, a merchant and an epitome of English

manners; Scandal, a sharper; and Lady Alton, in love with Belmont.

_Il Caffè di Campagna_, a play with music by Galuppi, appeared in Italy

in 1762.

Another Italian play, a comedy called _La Caffettiéra da Spirito_ was

produced in 1807.

_Hamilton_, a play by Mary P. Hamlin and George Arliss, the latter also

playing the title rôle, was produced in America by George C. Tyler in

1918. The first-act scene is laid in the Exchange coffee house of

Philadelphia, during the period of Washington's first administration.

Among the characters introduced in this scene are James Monroe, Count

Tallyrand, General Philip Schuyler, and Thomas Jefferson.

The authors very faithfully reproduce the atmosphere of the coffee house

of Washington's time. As Tallyrand remarks, "Everybody comes to see

everybody at the Exchange Coffee House.... It is club, restaurant,

merchants' exchange, everything."

_The Autocrat of the Coffee Stall_, a play in one act, by Harold Chapin,

was published in New York in 1921.

_Coffee and Literature in General_

An interesting book might be written on the transformation that tea and

coffee have wrought in the tastes of famous literary men. And of the two

stimulants, coffee seems to have furnished greater refreshment and

inspiration to most. However, both beverages have made civilization

their debtor in that they weaned so many fine minds from the heavy wines

and spirits in which they once indulged.

Voltaire and Balzac were the most ardent devotees of coffee among the

French _literati_. Sir James Mackintosh (1765-1832), the Scottish

philosopher and statesman, was so fond of coffee that he used to assert

that the powers of a man's mind would generally be found to be

proportional to the quantity of that stimulant which he drank. His

brilliant schoolmate and friend, Robert Hall (1764-1831), the Baptist

minister and pulpit orator, preferred tea, of which he sometimes drank a

dozen cups. Cowper; Parson and Parr, the famous Greek scholars; Dr.

Samuel Johnson; and William Hazlitt, the writer and critic, were great

tea drinkers; but Burton, Dean Swift, Addison, Steele, Leigh Hunt, and

many others, celebrated coffee.

Dr. Charles B. Reed, professor in the medical school of Northwestern

University, says that coffee may be considered as a type of substance

that fosters genius. History seems to bear him out. Coffee's essential

qualities are so well defined, says Dr. Reed, that one critic has

claimed the ability to trace throughout the works of Voltaire those

portions that came from coffee's inspiration. Tea and coffee promote a

harmony of the creative faculties that permits the mental concentration

necessary to produce the masterpieces of art and literature.

Voltaire (1694-1778) the king of wits, was also king of coffee drinkers.

Even in his old age he was said to have consumed fifty cups daily. To

the abstemious Balzac (1799-1850) coffee was both food and drink.

In Frederick Lawton's _Balzac_ we read: "Balzac worked hard. His habit

was to go to bed at six in the evening, sleep till twelve, and, after,

to rise and write for nearly twelve hours at a stretch, imbibing coffee

as a stimulant through these spells of composition."

In his _Treatise on Modern Stimulants_, Balzac thus describes his

reaction to his most beloved stimulant:

This coffee falls into your stomach, and straightway there is a

general commotion. Ideas begin to move like the battalions of the

Grand Army on the battlefield, and the battle takes place. Things

remembered arrive at full gallop, ensign to the wind. The light

cavalry of comparisons deliver a magnificent deploying charge, the

artillery of logic hurry up with their train and ammunition, the

shafts of wit start up like sharpshooters. Similes arise, the paper

is covered with ink; for the struggle commences and is concluded

with torrents of black water, just as a battle with powder.

When Balzac tells how Doctor Minoret, Ursule Minoret's guardian, used to

regale his friends with a cup of "Moka," mixed with Bourbon and

Martinique, which the Doctor insisted on personally preparing in a

silver coffee pot, it is his own custom that he is detailing. His

Bourbon he bought only in the rue Mont Blanc (now the chaussé d'Antin);

the Martinique, in the rue des Vielles Audriettes; the Mocha, at a

grocer's in the rue de l'Université. It was half a day's journey to

fetch them.

There have been notable contributions to the general literature of

coffee by French, Italian, English, and American writers. Space does not

permit of more than passing mention of some of them.

The reactions of the early French and English writers have been touched

upon in the chapters on the coffee houses of old London and the early

Parisian coffee houses, and in the history chapters dealing with the

evolution of coffee drinking and coffee manners and customs.

After Dufour, Galland, and La Roque in France, there were Count Rumford,

John Timbs, Douglas Ellis, and Robinson in England; Jardin and Franklin

in France; Belli in Italy; Hewitt, Thurber, and Walsh in America.

Mention has been made of coffee references in the works of Aubrey,

Burton, Addison, Steele, Bacon, and D'Israeli.

Brillat-Savarin (1755-1826) the great French epicure, knew coffee as few

men before him or since. In his historical elegy, contained in

_Gastronomy as a Fine Art, or the Science of Good Living_, he exclaims:

You crossed and mitred abbots and bishops who dispensed the favors

of Heaven, and you the dreaded templars who armed yourselves for

the extermination of the Saracens, you knew nothing of the sweet

restoring influence of our modern chocolate, nor of the

thought-inspiring bean of Arabia--how I pity you!

O. de Gourcuff's _De la Café, épître attribué à Senecé_, is deserving of

honorable mention.

An early French writer pays this tribute to the inspirational effects of

coffee:

It is a beverage eminently agreeable, inspiring and wholesome. It

is at once a stimulant, a cephalic, a febrifuge, a digestive, and

an anti-soporific; it chases away sleep, which is the enemy of

labor; it invokes the imagination, without which there can be no

happy inspiration. It expels the gout, that enemy of pleasure,

although to pleasure gout owes its birth; it facilitates digestion,

without which there can be no true happiness. It disposes to

gaiety, without which there is neither pleasure nor enjoyment; it

gives wit to those who already have it, and it even provides wit

(for some hours at least) to those who usually have it not. Thank

heaven for Coffee, for see how many blessings are concentrated in

the infusion of a small berry. What other beverage in the world can

compare with it? Coffee, at once a pleasure and a medicine; Coffee,

which nourishes at the same moment the mind, body and imagination.

Hail to thee! Inspirer of men of letters, best digestive of the

gourmand. Nectar of all men.

In Bologna, 1691, Angelo Rambaldi published _Ambrosia arabica, caffè

discorso_. This work is divided into eighteen sections, and describes

the origin, cultivation, and roasting of the bean, as well as telling

how to prepare the beverage.

During the time that Milan was under Spanish rule, Cesare Beccaria

directed and edited a publication entitled _Il Caffè_, which was

published from June 4, 1764, to May, 1766, "edited in Brescia by

Giammaria Rizzardi and undertaken by a little society of friends,"

according to the salutatory. Besides the Marchese Beccaria, other

editors and contributors were Pietro and Alexander Verri, Baillon,

Visconti, Colpani, Longhi, Albertenghi, Frisi, and Secchi. The same

periodical, with the same editorial staff, was published also in Venice

in the Typografia Pizzolato.

Another publication called _Il Caffè_, devoted to arts, letters, and

science, was published in Venice in 1850-52. Still another, having the

same name, a national weekly journal, was published in Milan, 1884-89.

An almanac, having the title _Il Caffè_, was published in Milan in 1829.

A weekly paper, called _Il Caffè Pedrocchi_, was published in Padua in

1846-48. It was devoted to art, literature and politics.

A publication called _Coffee and Surrogates_ (tea, chocolate, saffron,

pepper, and other stimulants) was founded by Professor Pietro Polli, in

Milan, in 1885; but was short-lived.

An early English magazine (1731) contains an account of divination by

coffee-grounds. The writer pays an unexpected visit, and "surprised the

lady and her company in close cabal over their coffee, the interest very

intent upon one whom, by her address and intelligence, he guessed was a

tire woman, to which she added the secret of divining by coffee grounds.

She was then in full inspiration, and with much solemnity observing the

atoms around the cup; on the one hand sat a widow, on the other a maiden

lady. They assured me that every cast of the cup is a picture of all

one's life to come, and every transaction and circumstance is delineated

with the exactest certainty."

The advertisement used by this seer is quite interesting:

An advise is hereby given that there has lately arrived in this

city (Dublin) the famous Mrs. Cherry, the only gentlewoman truly

learned in the occult science of _tossing of coffee grounds_; who

has with uninterrupted success for some time past practiced to the

general satisfaction of her female visitants. Her hours are after

prayers are done at St. Peter's Church, until dinner.

(N.B. She never requires more than 1 oz. of coffee from a single

gentlewoman, and so proportioned for a second or third person, but

not to exceed that number at any one time.)

If the one ounce of coffee represented her payment for reading the

future, the charge could not be considered exorbitant!

English writers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were

noticeably affected by coffee, and the coffee-houses of the times have

been immortalized by them; and in many instances they themselves were

immortalized by the coffee houses and their frequenters. In the chapters

already referred to and at the close of this chapter, will be found

stories, quips, and anecdotes, in which occur many names that are now

famous in art and literature.

Modern journalism dates from the publication, April 12, 1709, of the

_Tatler_, whose editor was Sir Richard Steele (1672-1729) the Irish

dramatist and essayist. He received his inspiration from the coffee

houses; and his readers were the men that knew them best. In the first

issue he announced:

All accounts of gallantry, pleasure and entertainment shall be

under the article of White's Coffee House; poetry under that of

Will's Coffee House; learning under the title of Grecian; foreign

and domestic news you will have from St. James's Coffee House, and

what else I shall on any other subject offer shall be dated from my

own apartment.

Steele's _Tatler_ was issued three times weekly until 1711, when it

suspended to be succeeded by the _Spectator_, whose principal

contributor was Joseph Addison (1672-1719), the essayist and poet, and

Steele's school-fellow.

Sir Richard Steele immortalized the Don and Don Saltero's coffee house

in old Chelsea in No. 34 of the _Tatler_, wherein he tells us of the

necessity of traveling to know the world, by his journey for fresh air,

no farther than the village of Chelsea, of which he fancied that he

could give an immediate description--from the five fields, where the

the robbers lie in wait, to the coffee house, where the literati sit in

council. But he found, even in a place so near town as this, that there

were enormities and persons of eminence, whom he before knew nothing of.

The coffee house was almost absorbed by the museum, Steele says:

When I came into the coffee-house, I had not time to salute the

company, before my eyes were diverted by ten thousand gimcracks

round the room, and on the ceiling. When my first astonishment was

over, comes to me a sage of thin and meagre countenance, which

aspect made me doubt whether reading or fretting had made it so

philosophic; but I very soon perceived him to be that sort which

the ancients call "gingivistee", in our language "tooth-drawers". I

immediately had a respect for the man; for these practical

philosophers go upon a very practical hypothesis, not to cure, but

to take away the part affected. My love of mankind made me very

benevolent to Mr. Salter, for such is the name of this eminent

barber and antiquary.

The Don was famous for his punch, and for his skill on the fiddle. He

drew teeth also, and wrote verses; he described his museum in several

stanzas, one of which is:

Monsters of all sorts are seen:

Strange things in nature as they grew so;

Some relicks of the Sheba Queen,

And fragments of the fam'd Bob Crusoe.

Steele then plunges into a deep thought why barbers should go farther in

hitting the ridiculous than any other set of men; and maintains that Don

Saltero is descended in a right line, not from John Tradescant, as he

himself asserts, but from the memorable companion of the Knight of

Mancha. Steele certifies to all the worthy citizens who travel to see

the Don's rarities, that his double-barreled pistols, targets, coats of

mail, his sclopeta (hand-culverin) and sword of Toledo, were left to his

ancestor by the said Don Quixote; and by his ancestor to all his progeny

down to Saltero. Though Steele thus goes far in favor of Don Saltero's

great merit, he objects to his imposing several names (without his

license) on the collection he has made, to the abuse of the good people

of England; one of which is particularly calculated to deceive religious

persons, to the great scandal of the well-disposed and may introduce

heterodox opinions. (Among the curiosities presented by Admiral Munden

was a coffin, containing the body or relics of a Spanish saint, who had

wrought miracles.) Says Steele:

He shows you a straw hat, which I know to be made by Madge Peskad,

within three miles of Bedford; and tells you "It is Pontius

Pilate's wife's chambermaid's sister's hat." To my knowledge of

this very hat, it may be added that the covering of straw was never

used among the Jews, since it was demanded of them to make bricks

without it. Therefore, this is nothing but, under the specious

pretense of learning and antiquities, to impose upon the world.

There are other things which I can not tolerate among his rarities,

as, the china figure of the lady in the glass-case; the Italian

engine, for the imprisonment of those who go abroad with it; both

of which I hereby order to be taken down, or else he may expect to

have his letters patent for making punch superseded, be debarred

wearing his muff next winter, or ever coming to London without his

wife.

Babillard says that Salter had an old grey muff, and that, by wearing it

up to his nose, he was distinguishable at the distance of a quarter of a

mile. His wife was none of the best, being much addicted to scolding;

and Salter, who liked his glass, if he could make a trip to London by

himself, was in no haste to return.

Don Saltero's proved very attractive as an exhibition, and drew crowds

to the coffee house. A catalog was published of which were printed more

than forty editions. Smollett, the novelist, was among the donors. The

catalog, in 1760, comprehended the following rarities:

Tigers' tusks; the Pope's candle; the skeleton of a Guinea-pig; a

fly-cap monkey, a piece of the true Cross; the Four Evangelists'

heads cut out on a cherry stone; the King of Morocco's

tobacco-pipe; Mary Queen of Scots' pincushion; Queen Elizabeth's

prayer-book; a pair of Nun's stockings; Job's ears, which grew on a

tree; a frog in a tobacco stopper; and five hundred more odd

relics!

The Don had a rival, as appears by _A Catalogue of the Rarities to be

seen at Adam's, at the Royal Swan, in Kingsland-road, leading from

Shoreditch Church, 1756_. Mr. Adams exhibited, for the entertainment of

the curious:

Miss Jenny Cameron's shoes; Adam's eldest daughter's hat; the heart

of the famous Bess Adams, that was hanged at Tyburn with Lawyer

Carr, January 18, 1736-37; Sir Walter Raleigh's tobacco pipe; Vicar

of Bray's clogs; engine to shell green peas with; teeth that grew

in a fish's belly; Black Jack's ribs; the very comb that Abraham

combed his son Isaac and Jacob's head with; Wat Tyler's spurs;

rope that cured Captain Lowry of the head-ach, ear-ach, tooth-ach,

and belly-ach; Adam's key of the fore and back door of the Garden

of Eden, etc., etc.

These are only a few out of five hundred other equally marvellous

exhibits.

The success of Don Saltero in attracting visitors to his coffee house,

induced the proprietor of the Chelsea bunhouse to make a similar

collection of rarities, to attract customers for his buns; and to some

extent it was successful.

In the first number of the _Spectator_, Addison says:

There is no place of general resort wherein I do not often make my

appearance. Sometimes I am seen thrusting my head into a round of

politicians at Will's, and listening with great attention to the

narratives that are made in those little circular audiences.

Sometimes I smoke a pipe at Child's, and while I seem attentive to

nothing but the _Postman_, overhear the conversation of every table

in the room. I appear on Sunday nights at St. James' coffee house,

and _sometimes_ join the little committee of politics in the inner

room as one who comes there to hear and improve. My face is

likewise very well known at the Grecian, the Cocoa Tree, and in the

theatres both of Drury Lane and the Hay Market. I have been taken

for a merchant upon the Exchange for above these ten years, and

sometimes pass for a Jew in the assembly of stock jobbers at

Jonathan's; in short, wherever I see a cluster of people, I always

mix with them, though I never open my lips, but in my own club.

In the second number he tells that:

I am now settled with a widow woman, who has a great many children

and complies with my humor in everything. I do not remember that we

have exchanged a word together for these five years; my coffee

comes into my chamber every morning without asking for it, if I

want fire I point to the chimney, if water, to my basin; upon which

my landlady nods as much as to say she takes my meaning, and

immediately obeys my signals.

Three of Addison's papers in the _Spectator_ (Nos. 402, 481, and 568)

are humorously descriptive of the coffee houses of the period. No. 403

opens with the remark that:

The courts of two countries do not so much differ from one another,

as the Court and the City, in their peculiar ways of life and

conversation. In short, the inhabitants of St. James,

notwithstanding they live under the same laws, and speak the same

language, are a distinct people from those of Cheapside, who are

likewise removed from those of the Temple on the one side, and

those of Smithfleld on the other, by several climates and degrees

in their way of thinking and conversing together.

For this reason, the author takes a ramble through London and

Westminster, to gather the opinions of his ingenious countrymen upon a

current report of the king of France's death.

I know the faces of all the principal politicians within the bills

of mortality; and as every coffee-house has some particular

statesman belonging to it, who is the mouth of the street where he

lives, I always take care to place myself near him, in order to

know his judgment on the present posture of affairs. And, as I

foresaw the above report would produce a new face of things in

Europe, and many curious speculations in our British coffee-houses,

I was very desirous to learn the thoughts of our most eminent

politicians on that occasion.

That I might begin as near the fountain-head as possible, I first

of all called in at St. James's, where I found the whole outward

room in a buzz of politics; the speculations were but very

indifferent towards the door, but grew finer as you advanced to the

upper end of the room, and were so much improved by a knot of

theorists, who sat in the inner room, within the steams of the

coffee-pot, that I there heard the whole Spanish monarchy disposed

of, and all the line of Bourbons provided for in less than a

quarter of an hour.

I afterwards called in at Giles's, where I saw a board of French

gentlemen sitting upon the life and death of their grand monarque.

Those among them who had espoused the Whig interest very positively

affirmed that he had departed this life about a week since, and

therefore, proceeded without any further delay to the release of

their friends in the galleys, and to their own re-establishment;

but, finding they could not agree among themselves, I proceeded on

my intended progress.

Upon my arrival at Jenny Man's I saw an alert young fellow that

cocked his hat upon a friend of his, who entered just at the same

time with myself, and accosted him after the following manner:

"Well, Jack, the old prig is dead at last. Sharp's the word. Now or

never, boy. Up to the walls of Paris, directly;" with several other

deep reflections of the same nature.

I met with very little variation in the politics between Charing

Cross and Covent Garden. And, upon my going into Will's, I found

their discourse was gone off, from the death of the French King, to

that of Monsieur Boileau, Racine, Corneille, and several other

poets, whom they regretted on this occasion as persons who would

have obliged the world with very noble elegies on the death of so

great a prince, and so eminent a patron of learning.

At a coffee-house near the Temple, I found a couple of young

gentlemen engaged very smartly in a dispute on the succession to

the Spanish monarchy. One of them seemed to have been retained as

advocate for the Duke of Anjou, the other for his Imperial Majesty.

They were both for regarding the title to that kingdom by the

statute laws of England; but finding them going out of my depth, I

pressed forward to Paul's Churchyard, where I listened with great

attention to a learned man, who gave the company an account of the

deplorable state of France during the minority of the deceased

king.

I then turned on my right hand into Fish-street, where the chief

politician of that quarter, upon hearing the news, (after having

taken a pipe of tobacco, and ruminated for some time) "If," says

he, "the King of France is certainly dead, we shall have plenty of

mackerel this season: our fishery will not be disturbed by

privateers, as it has been for these ten years past." He afterwards

considered how the death of this great man would affect our

pilchards, and by several other remarks infused a general joy into

his whole audience.

I afterwards entered a by-coffee-house that stood at the upper end

of a narrow lane, where I met with a Nonjuror engaged very warmly

with a laceman who was the great support of a neighboring

conventicle. The matter in debate was whether the late French King

was most like Augustus Caesar, or Nero. The controversy was carried

on with great heat on both sides, and as each of them looked upon

me very frequently during the course of their debate, I was under

some apprehension that they would appeal to me, and therefore laid

down my penny at the bar and made the best of my way to Cheapside.

I here gazed upon the signs for some time before I found one to my

purpose. The first object I met in the coffee-room was a person who

expressed a great grief for the death of the French King; but upon

his explaining himself, I found his sorrow did not arise from the

loss of the monarch, but for his having sold out of the Bank about

three days before he heard the news of it. Upon which a

haberdasher, who was the oracle of the coffee-house, and had his

circle of admirers about him, called several to witness that he had

declared his opinion, above a week before, that the French King was

certainly dead; to which he added, that considering the late

advices we had received from France, it was impossible that it

could be otherwise. As he was laying these together, and debating

to his hearers with great authority, there came a gentlemen from

Garraway's, who told us that there were several letters from France

just come in, with advice that the King was in good health, and was

gone out a hunting the very morning the post came away; upon which

the haberdasher stole off his hat that hung upon a wooden peg by

him, and retired to his shop with great confusion. This

intelligence put a stop to my travels, which I had prosecuted with

so much satisfaction; not being a little pleased to hear so many

different opinions upon so great an event, and to observe how

naturally, upon such a piece of news, every one is apt to consider

it to his particular interest and advantage.

Johnson wrote in his _Life of Addison_ concerning the _Tatler_ and the

_Spectator_ that they were:

Published at a time when two parties, loud, restless and violent,

each with plausible declarations, and both perhaps without any

distinct determination of its views, were agitating the nation; to

minds heated with political contest they supplied cooler and more

inoffensive reflections.... They had a perceptible influence on the

conversation of the time, and taught the frolic and the gay to

unite merriment with decency, effects which they can never wholly

lose.

Harold Routh in the Cambridge _History of Literature_, speaking of the

_Spectator_, says:

It surpassed the _Tatler_ in style and in thought. It gave

expression to the _power_ of commerce. For more than a century

traders had been characterized as dishonest and avaricious, because

playwrights and pamphleteers generally wrote for the leisure

classes, and were themselves too poor to have any but unpleasant

relations with men of business. Now merchants were becoming

ambassadors of civilization, and had developed intellect so as to

control distant and, as it seemed, mysterious sources of wealth; by

a stroke of the pen and largely through the coffee houses they had

come to know their own importance and power.

Samuel Pepys (1633-1703) was very fond of good eating, and almost daily

entries were made in his _Diary_ of dinner delicacies that he had

enjoyed. One dinner, that he considered a great success, was served to

eight persons, and consisted of oysters, a hash of rabbits, a lamb, a

rare chine of beef; next a great dish of roasting fowl ("cost me about

30 s.") a tart, then fruit and cheese. "My dinner was noble enough ... I

believe this day's feast will cost me near 5 pounds." But it will be

noted that coffee was not mentioned as a part of the menu.

He makes countless references to visits paid to this and that coffee

house, but records only one instance of actually drinking coffee:

Up betimes to my office, and thence at seven o'clock to Sir G.

Carteret, and there with Sir J. Minnes made an end of his accounts,

but staid not to dinner my Lady having made us drink our morning

draft there of several wines, but I drank nothing but some of her

coffee, which was poorly made, with a little sugar in it.

This note which he considered worthy of record was certainly not

inspired by the excellence of the good lady's matutinal coffee.

William Cobbett (1762-1835) the English-American politician, reformer,

and writer on economics, denounced coffee as "slops"; but he was one of

a remarkably small minority. Before his day, one of England's greatest

satirists, Dean Swift, (1667-1745) led a long roll of literary men who

were devotees of coffee.

Swift's writings are full of references to coffee; and his letters from

Stella came to him under cover, at the St. James coffee house. There is

scarcely a letter to Esther (Vanessa) Vanhomrigh which does not contain

a significant reference to coffee, by which the course of their

friendship and clandestine meetings may be traced. In one dated August

13, 1720, written while traveling from place to place in Ireland, he

says:

We live here in a very dull town, every valuable creature absent,

and Cad says he is weary of it, and would rather prefer his coffee

on the barrenest mountain in Wales than be king here.

A fig for partridges and quails,

Ye dainties I know nothing of ye;

But on the highest mount in Wales,

Would choose in peace to drink my coffee.

In another letter, about two years later, replying to one in which

Vanessa has reproached him and begged him to write her soon, he advises:

The best maxim I know in life, is to drink your coffee when you

can, and when you cannot, to be easy without it; while you continue

to be splenetic, count upon it I will always preach. Thus much I

sympathize with you, that I am not cheerful enough to write, for, I

believe, coffee once a week is necessary, and you know very well

that coffee makes us severe, and grave, and philosophical.

These various references to coffee are thought to have been based upon

an incident in the early days of their friendship, when on the occasion

of the Vanhomrigh family journeying from Dublin to London, Vanessa

accidentally spilt her coffee in the chimney-place at a certain inn,

which Swift considered a premonition of their growing friendship.

Writing from Clogher, Swift reminds Vanessa:

Remember that riches are nine parts in ten of all that is good in

life, and health is the tenth--drinking coffee comes long after,

and yet it is the eleventh, but without the two former you cannot

drink it right.

In another letter he writes facetiously, in memory of her playful

badinage:

I long to drink a dish of coffee in the sluttery and hear you dun

me for a secret, and "Drink your coffee; why don't you drink your

coffee?"

Leigh Hunt had very pleasant things to say about coffee, giving to it

the charm of appeal to the imagination, which he said one never finds in

tea. For example:

Coffee, like tea, used to form a refreshment by itself, some hours

after dinner; it is now taken as a digester, right upon that meal

or the wine, and sometimes does not even close it; or the digester

itself is digested by a liquor of some sort called a _Chasse-Café_

[coffee-chaser]. We like coffee better than tea for taste, but tea

"for a constancy." To be perfect in point of relish (we do not say

of wholesomeness) coffee should be strong and hot, with little milk

and sugar. It has been drunk after this mode in some parts of

Europe, but the public have nowhere, we believe, adopted it. The

favorite way of taking it at a meal, abroad, is with a great

superfluity of milk--very properly called, in France _café au lait_

(coffee _to the_ milk). One of the pleasures we receive in drinking

coffee is that, being the universal drink in the East, it reminds

of that region of the "Arabian Nights" as smoking does for the same

reason; though neither of these refreshments, which are identified

with Oriental manners, is to be found in that enchanting work. They

had not been discovered when it was written; the drink then was

sherbet. One can hardly fancy what a Turk or a Persian could have

done without coffee and a pipe, any more than the English ladies

and gentlemen, before the civil wars, without tea for breakfast.

In his old age, Immanuel Kant, the great metaphysician, became extremely

fond of coffee; and Thomas de Quincey relates a little incident showing

Kant's great eagerness for the after-dinner cup.

At the beginning of the last year of his life, he fell into a

custom of taking, immediately after dinner, a cup of coffee,

especially on those days when it happened that I was of his party.

And such was the importance that he attached to his little pleasure

that he would even make a memorandum beforehand, in the blank paper

book that I had given him, that on the next day I was to dine with

him, and consequently "_that there was to be coffee_." Sometimes in

the interest of conversation, the coffee was forgotten, but not for

long. He would remember and with the querulousness of old age and

infirm health would demand that coffee be brought "upon the spot."

Arrangements had always been made in advance, however; the coffee

was ground, and the water was boiling: and in the very moment the

word was given, the servant shot in like an arrow and plunged the

coffee into the water. All that remained, therefore, was to give it

time to boil up. But this trifling delay seemed unendurable to

Kant. If it were said, "Dear Professor, the coffee will be brought

up in a moment," he would say, _"Will be!_ There's the rub, that it

only _will_ be." Then he would quiet himself with a stoical air,

and say, "Well, one can die after all; it is but dying; and in the

next world, thank God, there is no drinking of coffee and

consequently no waiting for it."

When at length the servant's steps were heard upon the stairs, he

would turn round to us, and joyfully call out: "Land, land! my dear

friends, I see land."

Thackeray (1811-1863) must have suffered many tea and coffee

disappointments. In the _Kickleburys on the Rhine_ he asks: "Why do they

always put mud into coffee aboard steamers? Why does the tea generally

taste of boiled boots?"

In _Arthur's_, A. Neil Lyons has preserved for all time the atmosphere

of the London coffee stall. "I would not," he says, "exchange a night at

Arthur's for a week with the brainiest circle in London." The book is a

collection of short stories. As already recorded, Harold Chapin

dramatized this picturesque London institution in _The Autocrat of the

Coffee Stall_.

In General Horace Porter's _Campaigning with Grant_, we have three

distinct coffee incidents within fifty-odd pages; or explicitly, see

pages 47, 56, 101; where, deep in the fiercest snarls of The Wilderness

campaign we are treated to:

General Grant, slowly sipping his coffee ... a full ration of that

soothing army beverage.... The general made rather a singular meal

preparatory to so exhausting a day as that which was to follow. He

took a cucumber, sliced it, poured some vinegar over it, and

partook of nothing else except a cup of strong coffee.... The

general seemed in excellent spirits, and was even inclined to be

jocose. He said to me, "We have just had our coffee, and you will

find some left for you." ... I drank it with the relish of a

shipwrecked mariner.

One of the first immediate supplies General Sherman desired from

Wilmington, on reaching Fayetteville and lines of communication in

March, 1865, was, expressly, coffee; does he not say so himself, on page

297 of the second volume of his _Memoirs_?

Still more expressly, towards the close of his _Memoirs_, and among

final recommendations, the fruit of his experiences in that whole vast

war, General Sherman says this for coffee:

Coffee has become almost indispensable, though many substitutes

were found for it, such as Indian corn, roasted, ground and boiled

as coffee, the sweet potato, and the seed of the okra plant

prepared in the same way. All these were used by the people of the

South, who for years could procure no coffee, but I noticed that

the women always begged of us real coffee, which seemed to satisfy

a natural yearning or craving more powerful than can be accounted

for on the theory of habit. Therefore I would always advise that

the coffee and sugar ration be carried along, even at the expense

of bread, for which there are many substitutes.

George Agnew Chamberlain's novel _Home_ contains a vivid description of

coffee-making on an old plantation, and could only have been written by

a devoted lover of this drink. Gerry Lansing, the American, has escaped

drowning in the river, and is now lost in the Brazilian forest. He finds

his way at last to an old plantation house:

A stove was built into the masonry, and a cavernous oven gaped from

the massive wall. At the stove was an old negress, making coffee

with shaky deliberation.... The girl and the wrinkled old woman

made him sit down at the table, and then placed before him crisp

rusks of mandioc flour and steaming coffee whose splendid aroma

triumphed over the sordidness of the scene and through the nostrils

reached the palate with anticipatory touch. It was sweetened with

dark, pungent syrup and was served black in a capacious bowl, as

though one could not drink too deeply of the elixir of life. Gerry

ate ravenously and sipped the coffee, at first sparingly, then

greedily.... Gerry set down the empty bowl with a sigh. The rusks

had been delicious. Before the coffee the name of nectar dwindled

to impotency. Its elixir rioted in his veins.

In the _Rosary_, Florence L. Barclay has a Scotch woman tell how she

makes coffee. She says:

Use a jug--it is not what you make it in; it is how ye make it. It

all hangs upon the word fresh--freshly roasted--freshly

ground--water freshly boiled. And never touch it with metal. Pop it

into an earthenware jug, pour in your boiling water straight upon

it, stir it with a wooden spoon, set it on the hob ten minutes to

settle; the grounds will all go to the bottom, though you might not

think it, and you pour it out, fragrant, strong and clear. But the

secret is, _fresh, fresh, fresh_, and don't stint your coffee.

Cyrus Townsend Brady's _The Corner in Coffee_ is "a thrilling romance of

the New York coffee market."

Coffee, Du Barry, and Louis XV figure in one scene of the story of _The

Moat with the Crimson Stains_, as told by Elizabeth W. Champney in her

_Romance of the Bourbon Chateaux_.[354] It tells of the German

apprentice Riesener, who assisted his master Oeben in designing for

Louis XV a beautiful desk with a secret drawer, which it took ten years

of unremitting industry to execute. At the end, Riesener was to be

accepted by his master as a partner and a son-in-law. Little Victoire,

who loved to sit in a punt and trail her doll in the waters of the

Bievre to see to what color its frock would be changed by the dyes of

the Gobelin factory, was then only five, and Madam Oeben twenty-three.

As the years rolled by, Riesener grew to love the mother and not the

daughter, who, meanwhile, shot up into a slim girl, not of her mother's

beauty, but of a loveliness all her own. Then there was a quarrel

because the young apprentice thought the master should have resented the

suggestion of M. Duplessis that his wife pose in the nude for the

statuettes which were to hold the sconces on the king's desk; and

Riesener left in a fine youthful frenzy, vowing he would never return

while the _maître_ lived. The latter, unable to complete the masterpiece

which he loved more than anything else on earth, sought death, and

perished in the crimson waters of the Bievre.

The _maître_ had no enemies, but his quarrel with Riesener caused a fear

to spring up in the widow's heart that the apprentice might have been

guilty of his murder, so she refused to see him when, hearing of his

master's death, he returned, stricken with remorse, to finish the desk.

On it were the statuettes modeled in perfect likeness of Mlle. de

Vaubernier, a wily little milliner of Riesener's bohemian set who had

taken this way to bring herself to the attention of Louis XV. The ruse

was successful; and after the acceptance of the desk, there was

installed a new _maîtresse en titre_, the notorious Madame Du Barry,

erstwhile the pretty milliner, Mlle. de Vaubernier.

Later, Madame Du Barry sent for the now famous _ebeniste_ (cabinet

maker); and, when her negro page Zamore admitted him, he found His

Majesty Louis XV kneeling in front of the fireplace, making coffee for

her while she laughed at him for scalding his fingers. He had been

summoned to show the king the mechanism of the secret drawer, so

cunningly concealed in the king's desk that no one could find it. But

Riesener knew not the secret of his master, who had died without

revealing it. Then the red revolution came; and when the pretty pavilion

at Louveciennes was sacked, and its costly furniture hurled down the

cliff to the Seine, the king's desk, shattered almost beyond repair, was

carried to the Gobelins' factory and presented to Mme. Oeben in

recognition of her husband's workmanship. Then the secret compartment

was found to have been disclosed, and Riesener was absolved by a letter

therein, from the _maître_, who intimated he was about to end it all

because of paralysis. Riesener marries the widow and all ends happily.

James Lane Allen, in _The Kentucky Warbler_, tells a tale of the Blue

Grass country and of a young hero who wanders after a bird's note to

find romance and the key to his own locked nature. Here is an incident

from his first forest adventure:

There was one tree he curiously looked around for, positive that he

should not be blind to it if fortunate enough to set his eyes on

one--the coffee tree. That is, he felt sure he'd recognize it if it

yielded coffee ready to drink, of which never in his life had they

given him enough. Not once throughout his long troubled experience

as to being fed had he been allowed as much coffee as he craved.

Once, when younger, he had heard some one say that the only tree in

all the American forests that bore the name of Kentucky was the

Kentucky coffee tree, and he had instantly conceived a desire to

pay a visit in secret to that corner of the woods. To take his cup

and a few lumps of sugar and sit under the boughs and catch the

coffee as it dripped down.... No one to hold him back ... as much

as he wanted at last.... The Kentucky coffee tree--his favorite in

Nature!

John Kendrick Bangs relates, in _Coffee and Repartee_[355], some amusing

skirmishes indulged in at the boarding-house table, between the Idiot

and the guests, where coffee served the purpose of enlivening the tilt:

"Can't I give you another cup of coffee?" asked the landlady of the

School Master.

"You may," returned the School Master, pained at the lady's

grammar, but too courteous to call attention to it save by the

emphasis with which he spoke the word "may".

Said the Idiot: "You may fill my cup too, Mrs. Smithers."

"The coffee is all gone," returned the landlady, with a snap.

"Then, Mary," said the Idiot, gracefully turning to the maid, "you

may give me a glass of ice water. It is quite as warm, after all,

as the coffee and not quite so weak."

One other little skit remains at the expense of Mrs. Smithers' coffee.

At the breakfast table, where the air, as usual, is charged with

repartee, Mr. Whitechoker, the minister, says to his landlady:

"Mrs. Smithers, I'll have a dash of hot water in my coffee, this

morning." Then with a glance toward the Idiot, he added, "I think it

looks like rain."

"Referring to the coffee, Mr. Whitechoker?" queried the Idiot....

"Ah,--I don't quite follow you," replied the Minister with some

annoyance.

"You said something looked like rain, and I asked you if the thing

referred to was the coffee, for I was disposed to agree with you,"

said the Idiot.

"I am sure," put in Mrs. Smithers, "that a gentleman of Mr.

Whitechoker's refinement would not make any such insinuation, sir.

He is not the man to quarrel with what is set before him."

"I must ask your pardon, Madam," returned the Idiot politely. "I

hope I am not the man to quarrel with my food, either. Indeed, I

make it a rule to avoid unpleasantness of all sorts, particularly

with the weak, under which category I find your coffee."

_Coffee Quips and Anecdotes_

Coffee literature is full of quips and anecdotes. Probably the most

famous coffee quip is that of Mme. de Sévigné, who, as already told in

chapter XI, was wrongfully credited with saying, "Racine and coffee will

pass." It was Voltaire in his preface to _Irene_ who thus accused the

amiable letter-writer; and she, being dead, could not deny it.

That Mme. de Sévigné was at one time a coffee drinker is apparent from

this quotation from one of her letters: "The cavalier believes that

coffee gives him warmth, and I at the same time, foolish as you know me,

do not take it any longer."

La Roque called the beverage "the King of Perfumes", whose charm was

enriched when vanilla was added.

Emile Souvestre (1806-1854) said: "Coffee keeps, so to say, the balance

between bodily and spiritual nourishment."

Isid Bourdon said: "The discovery of coffee has enlarged the realm of

illusion and given more promise to hope."

An old Bourbon proverb says: "To an old man a cup of coffee is like the

door post of an old house--it sustains and strengthens him."

Jardin says that in the Antilles, instead of orange blossoms, the brides

carry a spray of coffee blossoms; and when a woman remains unmarried,

they say she has lost her coffee branch. "We say in France, that she has

_coiffé_ Sainte-Catherine."

Fontenelle and Voltaire have both been quoted as authors of the famous

reply to the remark that coffee was a slow poison: "I think it must be,

for I've been drinking it for eighty-five years and am not dead yet."

In Meidinger's _German Grammar_ the "slow-poison" _bon mot_ is

attributed to Fontenelle.

It seems reasonable to give Fontenelle credit for this _bon mot_.

Voltaire died at eighty-four. Fontenelle lived to be nearly a hundred

years. Of his cheerfulness at an advanced age an anecdote is related. In

conversation, one day, a lady a few years younger than Fontenelle

playfully remarked, "Monsieur, you and I stay here so long, methinks

Death has forgotten us." "Hush! Speak in a whisper, madame," replied

Fontenelle, "_tant mieux!_ (so much the better!) don't remind him of

us."

Flaubert, Hugo, Baudelaire, Paul de Kock, Théophile Gautier, Alfred de

Musset, Zola, Coppée, George Sand, Guy de Maupassant, and Sarah

Bernhardt, all have been credited with many clever or witty sallies

about coffee.

Prince Talleyrand (1754-1839), the French diplomat and wit, has given us

the cleverest summing up of the ideal cup of coffee. He said it should

be "_Noir comme le diable, chaud comme l'enfer, pur comme un ange, doux

comme l'amour._" Or in English, "black as the devil, hot as hell, pure

as an angel, sweet as love."

This quip has been wrongfully attributed to Brillat-Savarin. Talleyrand

said also:

A cup of coffee lightly tempered with good milk detracts nothing

from your intellect; on the contrary, your stomach is freed by it,

and no longer distresses your brain; it will not hamper your mind

with troubles, but give freedom to its working. Suave molecules of

Mocha stir up your blood, without causing excessive heat; the organ

of thought receives from it a feeling of sympathy; work becomes

easier, and you will sit down without distress to your principal

repast, which will restore your body, and afford you a calm

delicious night.

Among coffee drinkers a high place must be given to Prince Bismarck

(1815-1898). He liked coffee unadulterated. While with the Prussian army

in France, he one day entered a country inn and asked the host if he had

any chicory in the house. He had. Bismarck said: "Well, bring it to me;

all you have." The man obeyed, and handed Bismarck a canister full of

chicory.

"Are you sure this is all you have?" demanded the chancellor.

"Yes, my lord, every grain."

"Then," said Bismarck, keeping the canister by him, "go now and make me

a pot of coffee."

This same story has been related of François Paul Jules Grévy

(1807-1891), president of France, 1879-1887. According to the French

story, Grévy never took wine, even at dinner. He was, however,

passionately fond of coffee. To be certain of having his favorite

beverage of the best quality, he always, when he could, prepared it

himself. Once he was invited, with a friend, M. Bethmont, to a hunting

party by M. Menier, the celebrated manufacturer of chocolate, at

Noisiel. It happened that M. Grévy and M. Bethmont lost themselves in

the forest. Trying to find their way out, they stumbled upon a little

wine house, and stopped for a rest. They asked for something to drink.

M. Bethmont found his wine excellent; but, as usual, Grévy would not

drink. He wanted coffee, but he was afraid of the decoction which would

be brought him. He got a good cup, however, and this is how he managed

it:

"Have you any chicory?" he said to the man.

"Yes, sir."

"Bring me some."

Soon the proprietor returned with a small can of chicory.

"Is that all you have?" asked Grévy.

"We have a little more."

"Bring me the rest."

When he came again, with another can of chicory, Grévy said:

"You have no more?"

"No, sir."

"Very well. Now go and make me a cup of coffee."

As already told, Louis XV had a great passion for coffee, which he made

himself. Lenormand, the head gardener at Versailles, raised six pounds

of coffee a year which was for the exclusive use of the king. The king's

fondness for coffee and for Mme. Du Barry gave rise to a celebrated

anecdote of Louveciennes which was accepted as true by many serious

writers. It is told in this fashion by Mairobert in a pamphlet

scandalizing Du Barry in 1776:

His Majesty loves to make his own coffee and to forsake the cares

of the government. One day the coffee pot was on the fire and, his

Majesty being occupied with something else, the coffee boiled over.

"Oh France, take care! Your coffee _f---- le camp_!" cried the

beautiful favorite.

Charles Vatel has denied this story.