"Sacke will make the merry minde sad,So will it make the melancholie glad.If mirthe and sadnesse doth in sacke remain,When I am sad I'll take some sacke again."
"Sacke will make the merry minde sad,So will it make the melancholie glad.If mirthe and sadnesse doth in sacke remain,When I am sad I'll take some sacke again."
"Sacke will make the merry minde sad,So will it make the melancholie glad.If mirthe and sadnesse doth in sacke remain,When I am sad I'll take some sacke again."
"Sacke will make the merry minde sad,
So will it make the melancholie glad.
If mirthe and sadnesse doth in sacke remain,
When I am sad I'll take some sacke again."
A recipe of this time, attributed to Sir Fleetwood Fletcher, is curious in its composition in more ways than one; and, as we seldom find such documents in rhyme, we give it:—
"From famed Barbadoes, on the western main,Fetch sugar, ounces four; fetch sack from Spain,A pint; and from the Eastern coast,Nutmeg, the glory of our northern toast;O'er flaming coals let them together heat,Till the all-conquering sack dissolve the sweet;O'er such another fire put eggs just ten,New-born from tread of cock and rump of hen;Stir them with steady hand, and conscience pricking,To see the untimely end of ten fine chicken;From shining shelf take down the brazen skillet—A quart of milk from gentle cow will fill it;When boil'd and cold put milk and sack to eggs,Unite them firmly like the triple leagues;And on the fire let them together dwellTill miss sing twice 'you must not kiss and tell;'Each lad and lass take up a silver spoon,And fall on fiercely like a starved dragoon."
"From famed Barbadoes, on the western main,Fetch sugar, ounces four; fetch sack from Spain,A pint; and from the Eastern coast,Nutmeg, the glory of our northern toast;O'er flaming coals let them together heat,Till the all-conquering sack dissolve the sweet;O'er such another fire put eggs just ten,New-born from tread of cock and rump of hen;Stir them with steady hand, and conscience pricking,To see the untimely end of ten fine chicken;From shining shelf take down the brazen skillet—A quart of milk from gentle cow will fill it;When boil'd and cold put milk and sack to eggs,Unite them firmly like the triple leagues;And on the fire let them together dwellTill miss sing twice 'you must not kiss and tell;'Each lad and lass take up a silver spoon,And fall on fiercely like a starved dragoon."
"From famed Barbadoes, on the western main,Fetch sugar, ounces four; fetch sack from Spain,A pint; and from the Eastern coast,Nutmeg, the glory of our northern toast;O'er flaming coals let them together heat,Till the all-conquering sack dissolve the sweet;O'er such another fire put eggs just ten,New-born from tread of cock and rump of hen;Stir them with steady hand, and conscience pricking,To see the untimely end of ten fine chicken;From shining shelf take down the brazen skillet—A quart of milk from gentle cow will fill it;When boil'd and cold put milk and sack to eggs,Unite them firmly like the triple leagues;And on the fire let them together dwellTill miss sing twice 'you must not kiss and tell;'Each lad and lass take up a silver spoon,And fall on fiercely like a starved dragoon."
"From famed Barbadoes, on the western main,
Fetch sugar, ounces four; fetch sack from Spain,
A pint; and from the Eastern coast,
Nutmeg, the glory of our northern toast;
O'er flaming coals let them together heat,
Till the all-conquering sack dissolve the sweet;
O'er such another fire put eggs just ten,
New-born from tread of cock and rump of hen;
Stir them with steady hand, and conscience pricking,
To see the untimely end of ten fine chicken;
From shining shelf take down the brazen skillet—
A quart of milk from gentle cow will fill it;
When boil'd and cold put milk and sack to eggs,
Unite them firmly like the triple leagues;
And on the fire let them together dwell
Till miss sing twice 'you must not kiss and tell;'
Each lad and lass take up a silver spoon,
And fall on fiercely like a starved dragoon."
About this time, one Lord Holles, who probably represented the total abstainers of the age, invented a drink termed Hydromel, made of honey, spring-water, and ginger; and a cup of this taken at night, said he, "will cure thee of all troubles,"—thus acknowledging the stomachic virtues of cups, though some warping of his senses would not let him believe, to a curable extent, in more potent draughts: being in charity with him, we hope his was a saving faith; but we have our doubts of it, he died so young. Another recipe of the same nature was, "The Ale of health and strength," by the Duchess of St. Albans, which appears to have been a decoction of all the aromatic herbs in the garden (whether agreeable or otherwise), boiled up in small beer; and, thinking this account of its composition is sufficient, we will not indulge our readers with the various items or proportions. One of the most amusing descriptions of old English cheer we ever met with is that of Master Stephen Perlin, a French physician, who was in England during the reigns of Edward VI. and Mary. He says, writing for the benefit of his countrymen, "The English, one with the other, are joyous, and are very fond of music; likewise they are great drinkers. Now remember, if you please, that in this country they generally use vessels of silver when they drink wine; and they will say to you usually at table, 'Goude chere;' and also they will say to you more than one hundred times, 'Drind oui,' and you will reply to them in their language, 'Iplaigui.' They drink their beer out of earthenware pots, of which the handles and the covers are of silver," &c. Worthy Master Perlin seems hardly to have got on with his spelling of the English tongue while he was studying our habits; his account, however, of olden customs is reliable and curious. The custom of pledging and drinking healths is generally stated to have originated with the Anglo-Saxons; but, with such decided evidence before us of similar customs among the Greeks and Romans, we must at any rate refer it to an earlier period; and indeed we may rationally surmise that, in some form or other, the custom has existed from time immemorial. In later times the term "toasting" was employed to designate customs of a similar import, though the precise date of the application of this term is uncertain; and although we cannot accept the explanation given in the 24th number of the 'Tatler,' yet, for its quaintness, we will quote it:—
"It is said that while a celebrated beauty was indulging in her bath, one of the crowd of admirers who surrounded her took a glass of the water in which the fair one was dabbling, and drank her health to the company, when a gay fellow offered to jump in, saying, 'Though he liked not the liquor, he would have thetoast.'" This tale proves that toasts were put into beverages in those days, or the wag would not have applied the simile to the fair bather; and in the reign of Charles II., Earl Rochester writes,
"Make it so large that, fill'd with sackUp to the swelling brim,Vasttoastson the delicious lake,Like ships at sea, may swim."
"Make it so large that, fill'd with sackUp to the swelling brim,Vasttoastson the delicious lake,Like ships at sea, may swim."
"Make it so large that, fill'd with sackUp to the swelling brim,Vasttoastson the delicious lake,Like ships at sea, may swim."
"Make it so large that, fill'd with sack
Up to the swelling brim,
Vasttoastson the delicious lake,
Like ships at sea, may swim."
And in a panegyric on Oxford ale, written by Warton in 1720, we have the lines—
"My sober evening let the tankard bless,Withtoastembrown'd, and fragrant nutmeg fraught,While the rich draught, with oft-repeated whiffs,Tobacco mild improves."
"My sober evening let the tankard bless,Withtoastembrown'd, and fragrant nutmeg fraught,While the rich draught, with oft-repeated whiffs,Tobacco mild improves."
"My sober evening let the tankard bless,Withtoastembrown'd, and fragrant nutmeg fraught,While the rich draught, with oft-repeated whiffs,Tobacco mild improves."
"My sober evening let the tankard bless,
Withtoastembrown'd, and fragrant nutmeg fraught,
While the rich draught, with oft-repeated whiffs,
Tobacco mild improves."
Johnson, in his translation of Horace, makes use of the expression in Ode I. Book IV. thus—
"There jest and feast; make him thine host,If a fit liver thou dost seek totoast;"
"There jest and feast; make him thine host,If a fit liver thou dost seek totoast;"
"There jest and feast; make him thine host,If a fit liver thou dost seek totoast;"
"There jest and feast; make him thine host,
If a fit liver thou dost seek totoast;"
and Prior, in the "Camelion," says,
"But if at first he minds his hits,And drinks champaign among the wits,Five deep hetoaststhe towering lasses,Repeats your verses wrote on glasses."
"But if at first he minds his hits,And drinks champaign among the wits,Five deep hetoaststhe towering lasses,Repeats your verses wrote on glasses."
"But if at first he minds his hits,And drinks champaign among the wits,Five deep hetoaststhe towering lasses,Repeats your verses wrote on glasses."
"But if at first he minds his hits,
And drinks champaign among the wits,
Five deep hetoaststhe towering lasses,
Repeats your verses wrote on glasses."
This last line has reference to the custom pursued in the clubs of the eighteenth century, of writing verses on the brims of their cups; they also inscribed on them the names of the favourite ladies whom they toasted: and Dr. Arbuthnot ascribes the name of the celebrated Kit-Cat Club to the toasts drank there, rather than to the renowned pastry-cook, Christopher Kat; for he says,
"From no trim beaux its name it boasts,Grey statesmen or green wits;But from its pell-mell pack of toasts,Of old Cat and young Kits."
"From no trim beaux its name it boasts,Grey statesmen or green wits;But from its pell-mell pack of toasts,Of old Cat and young Kits."
"From no trim beaux its name it boasts,Grey statesmen or green wits;But from its pell-mell pack of toasts,Of old Cat and young Kits."
"From no trim beaux its name it boasts,
Grey statesmen or green wits;
But from its pell-mell pack of toasts,
Of old Cat and young Kits."
Among the latter may be mentioned Lady Mary Montagu, who was toasted at the age of eight years; while among the former denomination we must class Lady Molyneux, who is said to have died with a pipe in her mouth. In the 17th century the custom of drinking health was conducted with great ceremony; each person rising up in turn, with a full cup, named some individual to whom he drank; he then drank the whole contents of the cup and turned it upside down upon the table, giving it at the same time a fillip to make it ring, or, as our ancient authority has it, "make it cry 'twango.'" Each person followed in his turn; and, in order to prove that he had fairly emptied his cup, he was to pour all that remained in it on his thumb-nail; and if there was too much left to remain on the nail, he was compelled to drink his cup full again. If the person was present whose health was drank, he was expected to remain perfectly still during the operation, and at the conclusion to make an inclination of his head,—this being the origin of our custom of taking wine with each other, which, with sorrow be it said, is fast exploding. A very usual toast for a man to give was the health of his mistress; and in France, when this toast was given, the proposer was expected to drink his cup full of wine as many times as there were letters in her name.
We now pass on to times which seem, in their customs, to approach more nearly to the present, yet far back enough to be called old times; and we think it may be pardoned if we indulge in some reminiscences of them, tacking on to our short-lived memories the greater recollection of history, and thus reversing the wheels of time, which are hurrying us forward faster than we care to go. For we hold it to be an excusable matter, this halting awhile and looking back to times of simpler manners than those we are living in, of heartier friendships, of more genial trustings; and that these good qualities were preeminently those current during the 17th and 18th centuries we have abundant proof. Has not one of the most noble sentiments in the English language come down to us in a cup—the cup of kindness, which we are bidden to take for "Auld Lang Syne"? And truly there come to us from this age passed by, but leaving behind an ever-living freshness which can be made a heritage of cheerfulness to the end of time, such testimonies of good done by associable as well as social intercourse, that, were we cynics of the most churlish kind, instead of people inclined to be kind and neighbourly, we could not refuse acknowledgment of the part played in such deeds by the cup of kindness. Be it remembered, however, such bright oases in social history do not shine from gluttonous tables, and are not the property of hard-drinking circles, with their attendant vices. We seek for them in vain at the so-called social boards of the last century, where men won their spurs by excessive wine-drinking, and "three-bottle men" were the onlygentlemen; neither do we meet them amid the carousals of Whitehall and Alsatia, or, nearer to our own day, among the viciouscoteriesof the Regency. The scenes we like to recall and dwell upon are those of merry-makings and jollity—or of friendly meetings, as when gentle Master Izaac, returning from his fishing, brings with him two-legged fish to taste his brewage (and a very pleasant and commendable cup the great master of the gentle art will drink with them), or when pious Master Herbert chances to meet with a man he liketh, who hath the manner of loving all things for the good that is in them, and who, like his greater companion, (for no one in that quality of mind was greater than Herbert,) had a respect for what, in others, were occasions of stumbling, could use good gifts without abusing them, and think the loving-cup of spiced wine an excellent good cordial for the heart, or when Dr. Donne (scarce a man in England wiser than he), laying aside for the time his abstruse learning, mixed a mighty cup of gillyflower sack, and talked over it with Sir Kenelm Digby (hardly a lesser man than himself), of the good gifts lavishly offered, but by some rudely abused, and by others unthankfully taken, discussed the merits of plants and fruits, or the virtues, harder to be discovered, of stones and metals, while they marvelled at that scheme which adapted each body, animate or inanimate, to the station ordained to it, and at the infinite goodness of Him who made man head of all, and gave him power and discernment that he might show, by the moderate use of things healthy and nourishing, the wisdom of Him who ordained them to cheer and to cherish. A great regard for the wholesome had Sir Kenelm Digby, whose carefulness in the concoction of his favourite cup was such that he could not brew it aright if he had not Hyde-Park water—a rule of much value in Sir Kenelm's day, no doubt; but modern "improvements," unfortunately, interfere with the present use of it. Other apostles of the truest temperance (moderation) there were, and we cherish them as men who have deserved well of their country. Dr. Parr, for example, who could drink his cider-cup on the village green on a Sunday evening, while his farming parishioners played at bowls,—or again, still more legibly written in social history, and to some extent leaving an impress upon our national life, the club-gatherings of the last century, where men of far-seeing and prudent philosophy (Addison, Steele, Goldsmith, Johnson, and others), whose names are interwoven with the history of their time, meeting together, talked of human joys and human sorrows over claret-cups—men witty themselves, and the cause of wit in other men, like sweet Sir John, whose devotion to "sherris sack" cost him his character, and will therefore deny him admission to our gallery of men who have drank wisely and warily, and therefore well.
While speaking of these times, we must not forget to mention "the cup that cheers, but not inebriates;" for it was from the introduction of tea- and coffee-houses that clubs sprang into existence, by a process unnecessary here to dilate on, but of which an excellent account may be found in Philip and Grace Wharton's 'Wits and Beaux of Society.' The first coffee-house established was the 'Grecian,' kept by one Constantine, a Greek, who advertised that "the pure berry of the coffee was to be had of him as good as could be anywhere found," and shortly afterwards succeeded in securing a flourishing trade by selling an infusion of the said berry in small cups. After him came Mr. Garraway, who set forth that "tea was to be had of him in leaf and in drink;" and thus took its rise Garraway's well-known coffee-house, so celebrated for the sayings and doings of Dr. Johnson, one of which, being somewhat to the point, we may, in passing, notice. "I admit," said he, "that there are sluggish men who are improved by drinking, as there are fruits which are not good till they are rotten; there are such men, but they are medlars."
In the eighteenth century the principal cups that we find noted were those compounded of Beer, the names of which are occasionally suggestive of too great a familiarity on the part of their worshippers,—to wit, Humptie-dumptie, Clamber-clown, Stiffle, Blind Pinneaux, Old Pharaoh, Three threads, Knock-me-down, Hugmatee, and Foxcomb. All these were current at the beginning of that century. Then, towards the end of it we find Cock-ale, Stepony, Stitchback, Northdown, and Mum.Mumis ale brewed from malted wheat. It is so called from Christison Mumme, a brewer of Braunschweig in Wolfenbüttel, who lived at the end of the 15th century, and whose house is still standing. When three Essex men meet to drink a pot together, the draught taken by the first is called the Neckem, that by the second the Sinkem, the last man draining the pot by drinking the Swankens, from which we find, in Bailey's Dictionary, "Swankie," the drop which remains at the bottom of a cup. "Bragget" is a northland word derived from the hero Braga, who is one of the mythological gods of the Edda, and consisted of spiced ale drank on Mothering Sunday, a kind of metheglin derived from Bragawd (Welsh). It is still drank in Lancashire. All these were very similar in composition, and their precise recipes are scarcely worth recording. Many noted houses of entertainment, both in town and country, were distinguished by their particular brewage of these compounds. But we can only find a single instance of a house becoming famous in this century for claret-cups, in many respects the most desirable of any drink: that one hostelry was the 'Heaven,' in Fleet Street, so often quoted by the ephemeral writers of the age.
Modern English customs connected with drinking may be said to be conspicuous from their absence; for, save in the Grace-cups, and Loving-cups of civic entertainments and other state occasions, we do not remember any customs worth alluding to. Certain of our cathedral establishments and colleges retain practices of ancient date relating to the passing round of the grace-cup; of such is the Durham Prebend's cup, which is drank at certain feasts given by the resident Prebend to the corporation and inhabitants of the city, and for which, under an old charter, he is allowed a liberal sum of money annually. This composition is still brewed from the original recipe, and served in the original ancient silver cups, which are at least a foot high, and hold between two and three quarts. The cups are carried into the room by a chorister-boy, attired in a black gown, preceded by a verger, also wearing a black gown trimmed with silver braid, and bearing in his hand a silver wand. A Latin grace is then chanted, and the Prebend presents the boy with a shilling, who, having placed the cups on the table, marches out of the room, accompanied by the verger. The cups are then passed down each side of the table, and quaffed by each guest in succession to an appropriate toast.
For the "sensation-drinks" which have lately travelled across the Atlantic we have no friendly feeling; they are far too closely allied to the morning dram, with its thousand verbal mystifications, to please our taste; and the source from which "eye-openers" and "smashers" come is one too notorious to be welcomed by any man who deserves well of his country: so we will pass the American bar, with its bad brandies and fiery wine, and express our gratification at the poor success which "Pick-me-ups," "Corpse-revivers," "Chain-lightning," and the like have had in this country.
There are certain things to be observed in the compounding of cups, which, though patent to every man's common sense, we may be pardoned for mentioning. When a drink is to be served hot, never let the mixture boil, but let the heat be applied as gently as possible: a fierce heat causes the spirit to evaporate, and moreover destroys or materially alters the fine aromatic flavour on which so much of its delicacy depends. When the hot cup is brewed, be careful to retain the heat as much as possible, by a covering to the vessel; and let it not be served till the moment it is required. On the other hand, when a cool cup is to be made, its greatest adjunct is ice, either in lumps, which may be retained in the cup, or, as is preferable, a portion of pounded ice should be violently shaken with the mixture and afterwards strained off. The best way of pounding ice is to wrap a block of it in a napkin and beat it with a mallet or rolling-pin; and the only way of breaking up a block of ice into conveniently sized pieces with accuracy is by using a large needle or other sharp-pointed instrument. The rind of lemon and orange is of great service in flavouring cups; and it is of the utmost importance that this should be pared as thinly as possible, for it is only in the extreme outer portion that the flavour is contained. In making all cups where lemon-peel is employed,reject the white part altogether, as worse than useless; it imparts an unpleasant flavour to the beverage, and tends to make it muddy and discoloured.
It was customary in olden times, as well as at the present, to communicate flavouring to compound drinks by means of different herbs, among which first in point of flavour is Borage, which is mentioned, as early as the 13th century, as growing in the garden of John De Garlande; and in a list of plants of the 15th century, Borage stands first. It is spoken of in the commencement of the 18th century as one of the four cordial flowers, being of known virtue to revive the hypochondriac and cheer the hard student. This Borage is a plant having a small blue flower, and growing luxuriantly in most gardens; by placing a sprig or two of it in any cool drink, it communicates a peculiar refreshing flavour which cannot be imitated by any other means. When, however, Borage cannot be procured, a thin slice of cucumber-peel forms a very good substitute; but care must be taken to use but one slice, or the cup will be too much impregnated with the flavour to be palatable. A small piece from the outer rind of the stalk is considered by some to possess superior excellence. We have made many experiments to extract this peculiar flavouring from Borage, in all of which we have been totally unsuccessful; nor do we imagine it possible to separate it from the plant, in order to gain these peculiar properties. Balm is another herb which is used for flavouring drinks; but we do not recommend it, although we find it spoken of in an old medical work as a very good help to digestion, and to open obstructions to the brain, &c. &c. Mint gives an agreeable flavour to Juleps, but is not of general application. A sprig of sweet-scented verbena, put into some cups, imparts an aromatic and agreeable flavour; but all these herbs must be used with caution, and are only pleasant when judiciously introduced.
Let your utensils be clean, and your ingredients of first-rate quality, and, unless you have some one very trustworthy and reliable, take the matter in hand yourself; for nothing is so annoying to the host, or so unpalatable to the guests, as a badly compounded cup. In order that the magnitude of this important business may be fully understood and properly estimated, we will transfer some of the excellent aphoristic remarks of the illustrious Billy Dawson (more properly Bully Dawson, spoken of by Charles Lamb in his 'Popular Fallacies'), whose illustricity consisted in being the only man who could brew Punch. This is his testimony:—"The man who sees, does, or thinks of anything while he is making Punch, may as well look for the North-west Passage on Mutton Hill. A man can never make good Punch unless he is satisfied, nay positive, that no man breathing can make better. I can and do make good Punch, because I do nothing else; and this is my way of doing it. I retire to a solitary corner, with my ingredients ready sorted; they are as follows; and I mix them in the order they are here written. Sugar, twelve tolerable lumps; hot water, one pint; lemons, two, the juice and peel; old Jamaica rum, two gills; brandy, one gill; porter or stout, half a gill; arrack, a slight dash. I allow myself five minutes to make a bowl on the foregoing proportions, carefully stirring the mixture as I furnish the ingredients until it actually foams; and then, Kangaroos! how beautiful it is!!" If, however, for convenience, you place the matter in the hands of your domestic, I would advise you to caution her on the importance of the office; and this could not be better effected than by using the words of the witty Dr. King:—
"O Peggy, Peggy, when thou go'st to brew,Consider well what you're about to do;Be very wise—very sedately thinkThat what you're going to make is—drink;Consider who must drink that drink, and thenWhat 'tis to have the praise of honest men;Then future ages shall of Peggy tell,The nymph who spiced the brewages so well."
"O Peggy, Peggy, when thou go'st to brew,Consider well what you're about to do;Be very wise—very sedately thinkThat what you're going to make is—drink;Consider who must drink that drink, and thenWhat 'tis to have the praise of honest men;Then future ages shall of Peggy tell,The nymph who spiced the brewages so well."
"O Peggy, Peggy, when thou go'st to brew,Consider well what you're about to do;Be very wise—very sedately thinkThat what you're going to make is—drink;Consider who must drink that drink, and thenWhat 'tis to have the praise of honest men;Then future ages shall of Peggy tell,The nymph who spiced the brewages so well."
"O Peggy, Peggy, when thou go'st to brew,
Consider well what you're about to do;
Be very wise—very sedately think
That what you're going to make is—drink;
Consider who must drink that drink, and then
What 'tis to have the praise of honest men;
Then future ages shall of Peggy tell,
The nymph who spiced the brewages so well."
Respecting the size of the cup no fixed rule can be laid down, because it must mainly depend upon the number who have to partake of it; and be it remembered that, as cups are not intended to be quaffedad libitum, as did Bicias, of whom Cornelius Agrippa says,
"To Bicias shee it gave, and sayd,'Drink of this cup of myne;'He quickly quafte it, and left notOf licoure any sygne,"
"To Bicias shee it gave, and sayd,'Drink of this cup of myne;'He quickly quafte it, and left notOf licoure any sygne,"
"To Bicias shee it gave, and sayd,'Drink of this cup of myne;'He quickly quafte it, and left notOf licoure any sygne,"
"To Bicias shee it gave, and sayd,
'Drink of this cup of myne;'
He quickly quafte it, and left not
Of licoure any sygne,"
letqualityprevail overquantity, and try to hit a happy medium between the cup of Nestor, which was so large that a young man could not carry it, and the country half-pint of our own day, which we have heard of as being so small that a string has to be tied to it to prevent it slipping down with the cider.
In order to appreciate the delicacy of a well-compounded cup, we would venture to suggest this laconic rule, "When you drink—think."
First and foremost among compound drinks, with regard to priority of date, stands Hydromel, the favourite beverage of the ancient Britons, which is probably the same as that made and used at the present day under the name of Metheglin, a word derived from the Welsh Medey-glin, and spoken of by Howell, who was Clerk to the Privy Council in 1640. In ancient times, however, this compound was made by simply diluting honey with water; but at the present day, substances are usually added to it to cause it to ferment; and when made in this way, it differs little from mead or bragget.
To nine gallons of boiling water put twenty-eight pounds of honey, add the peel of three lemons, with a small quantity of ginger, mace, cloves, and rosemary; when this is quite cold, add two tablespoonfuls of yeast. Put this into a cask, and allow it to ferment; at the expiration of six months, bottle it off for use.
Another favourite drink in olden times was that called "Lamb's Wool," which derived its name from the 1st of November, a day dedicated to the angel presiding over fruits and seeds, and termed "La Mas-ubal," which has subsequently been corrupted into "lamb's wool."
To one quart of strong hot ale add the pulp of six roasted apples, together with a small quantity of grated nutmeg and ginger, with a sufficient quantity of raw sugar to sweeten it; stir the mixture assiduously, and let it be served hot.
Of equal antiquity, and of nearly the same composition, is the Wassail Bowl, which in many parts of England is still partaken of on Christmas Eve, and is alluded to by Shakspeare in his "Midsummer Night's Dream." In Jesus College, Oxford, we are told, it is drunk on the Festival of St. David, out of a silver gilt bowl holding ten gallons, which was presented to that College by Sir Watkin William Wynne, in 1732.
Put into a quart of warm beer one pound of raw sugar, on which grate a nutmeg and some ginger; then add four glasses of sherry and two quarts more of beer, with three slices of lemon; add more sugar, if required, and serve it with three slices of toasted bread floating in it.
Another genus of beverages, if so it may be termed, of considerable antiquity, comprise those compositions having milk for their basis, or, as Dr. Johnson describes them, "milk curdled with wine and other acids," known under the name of Possets—such as milk-posset, pepper-posset, cider-posset, or egg-posset. Most of these, now-a-days, are restricted to the bed-chamber, where they are taken in cases of catarrh, to act as agreeable sudorifics. They appear to us to be too much associated with tallow applied to the nose to induce us to give recipes for their composition, although in olden times they seem to have been drank on festive occasions, as Shakspeare says
"We will have a posset at the end of a sea-coal fire;"
and Sir John Suckling, who lived in the early part of the 17th century, has in one of his poems the line—
"In came the bridesmaids with the posset."
The Grace-cup and Loving-cup appear to be synonymous terms for a beverage the drinking of which has been from time immemorial a great feature at the corporation dinners in London and other large towns, as also at the feasts of the various trade companies and the Inns of Court, and which is a compound of wine and spices, formerly called "Sack." It is handed round the table before the removal of the cloth, in large silver cups, from which no one is allowed to drink before the guest on either side of him has stood up; the person who drinks then rises and bows to his neighbours. This custom is said to have originated in the precaution to keep the right or dagger hand employed, as it was a frequent practice with the Danes to stab their companions in the back at the time they were drinking. The most notable instance of this was the treachery employed by Elfrida, who stabbed King Edward the Martyr at Corfe Castle whilst thus engaged. At the Temple the custom of the Loving-cup is strictly observed. The guests are only supposed to take one draught from it as it passes; but, in No. 110 of the 'Quarterly Review,' a writer says, "Yet it chanced, not long since at the Temple, that, though the number present fell short of seventy, thirty-six quarts of the liquor were consumed."
Julep, derived from the Persian word Julap (a sweetened draught), is a beverage spoken of by John Quincey, the physician, who died in 1723, and also mentioned by Milton in the lines—
....."Behold this cordial Julep here,That foams and dances in his crystal bounds,With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mix'd."
....."Behold this cordial Julep here,That foams and dances in his crystal bounds,With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mix'd."
....."Behold this cordial Julep here,That foams and dances in his crystal bounds,With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mix'd."
....."Behold this cordial Julep here,
That foams and dances in his crystal bounds,
With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mix'd."
This drink is now made by pounding ice and white sugar together, and adding to it a wine-glass of brandy, half a wine-glass of rum, and a piece of the outer rind of a lemon; these ingredients are shaken violently, and two or three sprigs of fresh mint are stuck in the glass; it is then usually imbibed through a straw, or stick of maccaroni.
One of the oldest of winter beverages, and an especial favourite, both in ancient and modern times, in our Universities, is "Bishop," also known on the Continent under the somewhat similar name of Bischof. This, according to Swift, is composed of
....."Fine oranges,Well roasted, with sugar and wine in a cup,They'll make a sweet Bishop when gentlefolks sup."
....."Fine oranges,Well roasted, with sugar and wine in a cup,They'll make a sweet Bishop when gentlefolks sup."
....."Fine oranges,Well roasted, with sugar and wine in a cup,They'll make a sweet Bishop when gentlefolks sup."
....."Fine oranges,
Well roasted, with sugar and wine in a cup,
They'll make a sweet Bishop when gentlefolks sup."
This recipe is givenverbatim, in 'Oxford Night-caps.'
The origin of this word is attributed by Dr. Doran, in his 'History of Court Fools,' to a club of Athenian wits; but how he could possibly connect the word Punch with these worthies, or derive it from either their sayings or doings, we are totally at a loss to understand. Its more probable derivation is from the Persian Punj, or from the Sanscrit Pancha, which denotes the usual number of ingredients of which it is composed, viz. five. In an old book of travels dated 1639, a certain drink is mentioned called Palepuntz, used by the English at Surat, composed of brandy, rose-water, citron-juice, and sugar, the acid principle being absent. We may here mention parenthetically that 'Punch, or The London Charivari,' was started by five men, of whom three were "Lemons," viz. Mark Lemon, its editor, Leman Rede, and Laman Blanchard. Thus 'Punch' was made with "Lemon-ade."
Extract the oil from the rind of a large lemon by rubbing it with lumps of sugar; add the juice of two lemons and of two Seville oranges, together with the finely pared rind; put this into a jug with one pint of old rum, one pint of brandy, and half a pound of powdered lump sugar; stir well together, then add one pint of infusion of green tea and one quart of boiling water. Mix well, and let it be served quite hot. This is an excellent recipe for ordinary Punch; and the addition of green tea cannot be too strongly recommended. In order to give Punch a delicious softness, one pint of calves'-foot jelly should be added to the above recipe. The addition of two glasses of sherry will also be found an improvement.
is made by adding two glasses of noyau to the above recipe.
A tablespoonful of Guava jelly administers a fine flavour to a bowl of Punch. Preserved tamarinds, put into Punch, impart a flavour closely resembling arrack; and a piece or two of preserved ginger, with a little of the syrup, added to Punch, acts as a stimulant, and prevents any ill effects which might otherwise arise from the acids it contains.
As a mild summer drink, and one readily made, we recommend Gin Punch, according to the following recipe:—
Stir the rind of a lemon, and the juice of half a one, in half a pint of gin; add a glass of Maraschino, half a pint of water, and two tablespoonfuls of pounded white sugar, and, immediately before serving, pour in two bottles of iced soda-water.
To one pint of whisky and two glasses of brandy add the juice and peel of one lemon and a wine-glassful of boiling ale; well stir into it half a pound of powdered sugar, and add a quart of boiling water. This is said to be the most fascinating tipple ever invented; and, to quote the words of Basil Hall, "It brightens a man's hopes, crumbles down his difficulties, softens the hostility of his enemies, and, in fact, induces him for the time being to think generously of all mankind, at the tiptop of which it naturally and good-naturedly places his own dear self."
If well made, in our opinion, there is no beverage, in point of generosity and delicacy of flavour, that can compare with Milk Punch, for the compounding of which, after numerous trials, we offer the following recipe as the simplest and best.
To the rinds of twelve lemons and two Seville oranges add 2½ pounds of loaf sugar, a bottle of pale brandy, and a bottle and a half of old rum, with a sufficient quantity of grated nutmeg. Let this mixture stand for a week; then add the juice of the fruit, with five pints of water; lastly, add one quart of boiling milk, and, after letting it stand for an hour, filter the whole through jelly-bags till it is clear.
Bottle for use. The longer it is kept, the better it will be.
In Cambridge (a town of no mean authority in such matters) Milk Punch is made after the following fashion.
Boil together a quart of milk, four ounces of loaf sugar, a small stick of cinnamon, and the peel of one lemon; then beat together the yolks of three eggs and the white of one; add the boiling compound very gradually, and keep continually stirring the mixture while you pour into it a wine-glassful of rum and one of noyau. Serve hot.
The following compound is said to have been held in high esteem by the Prince Regent, from whom it derives its name.
To a pint of strongly made green tea add the rinds and juice of two lemons, one Seville orange, and one sweet orange, with half a pound of loaf sugar and a small stick of cinnamon. After standing for half an hour, strain the mixture, add a bottle of champagne, half a bottle of sherry, three wine-glasses of brandy; rum, Curaçoa, and noyau, of each a wine-glass, and a pint of pine-apple syrup.
Ice the compound well, and, immediately before drinking, add a bottle of soda-water.
Take the finely shredded rind of one, and the juice of three, lemons, one bottle of rum, one pint of arrack, half a pound of loaf sugar, and a quart of cold water. When the sugar is melted, pour one quart of boiling milk on the above, cover it closely for four hours, and run it through a bag, as it should be quite bright.
Many other recipes for Punch might be added, as, for instance, Egg Punch, Almond Punch, Punch à la Romaine, Spiced Punch, Red Punch, Leander Punch, &c.; but the few we have prescribed will be found reliable, so we refrain from swelling the list.
The simple admixture of spirits and water is known either by the name of Toddy, which is a corruption of an Indian word, Taddi (the sap of the palm tree), or by the more truly English appellation of Grog, which thus derives its cognomen. Before the time of Admiral Vernon, rum was given to the seamen in its raw state; but he ordered it to be diluted, previously to delivery, with a certain quantity of water. This watering of their favourite liquor so incensed the tars that they nicknamed the Admiral "Old Grog," in allusion to a grogram coat which he was in the habit of wearing.
Addison gives a humorous account of a Tory squire whom he met by chance in a country ride, and who maintained, over a bowl of punch, to which he was evidently addicted, that England would do very well if it would content itself with its own productions and not depend upon foreigners. Addison reminded him, to his great discomfiture, that, of the favourite drink he was enjoying, the water was the only constituent of English production, and that the brandy, lemon, spice, and sugar were all foreigners.
Of all compound drinks, those having wine for their basis require the greatest care in their preparation and the greatest nicety in their composition. This will be evident to any one who remembers the fact that not one wine-drinker out of twenty, except by subterfuge or previous practice, can distinguish, with his eyes closed, a glass of sherry from one of port, although, when wide awake, no one ever confounds the two; and there are few who cannot distinguish a glass of fine old white port when they have the chance of tasting it.
It is not our object, however, to discourse on the merits of particular wines, but to give recipes for the blending of such as are most palatable and wholesome. First on the list we place Claret Cup, as the most agreeable, wholesome, easily compounded, and easily obtained, and because, under the new tariff, most people have learned to distinguish the difference between the two varieties of French wines, more or less, though at present, we fear, to use an expression of Charles Dickens, "generally less."
To a bottle of Bordeaux claret add two wine-glasses of sherry and a wine-glass of Maraschino, with a small quantity of powdered lump sugar. Let the above be well iced and put into a cup, and, immediately before drinking, add a bottle of soda-water which has also been previously iced, and stick in two sprigs of borage.
To each bottle of ordinary claret add a bottle of soda-water, a glass of sherry or Curaçoa, the peel of a lemon cut very thin, with powdered sugar according to taste. Let the whole stand an hour or two before serving, and then add some clear ice.
To the above add a few slices of cucumber, or some sprigs of borage instead of cucumber.
As No. 2, except the lemon-peel, for which substitute, when in season, a pint of ripe raspberries, or four or five peaches or nectarines cut in slices. This is a most delicious beverage.
The best way of mulling claret is simply to heat it with a sufficient quantity of sugar and a stick of cinnamon. To this a small quantity of brandy may be added, if preferred.
To a bottle of Burgundy wine add a wine-glass of noyau, three wine-glasses of pine-apple syrup, one wine-glass of brandy, and a quarter of a pound of powdered sugar; ice well; add a bottle of seltzer- or soda-water before drinking, and serve with a sprig of borage.
To a bottle of hock add three wine-glasses of sherry, one lemon sliced, and some balm or borage. Let it stand two hours; sweeten to taste, and add a bottle of seltzer-water.
"May-Trank" is a most popular beverage on the Rhine. Take with each bottle of light hock about a dozen sprigs of woodruff, a quarter of an orange cut in small slices, and about two ounces of powdered sugar. The herbs are to be removed, after having been in the wine half an hour. A bottle of sparkling wine added to four or five bottles of still hock is a great improvement. A little ice is recommended.
Instead of woodruff and orange take to each bottle of hock about half a pint of highly flavoured strawberries. Sugar as above. The fruit is to be taken with the wine after having been in it about an hour.
Take some thin slices of pine-apple instead of the strawberries.
Take to each bottle of hock two highly flavoured peaches peeled and cut in slices. Sugar as above.
To a bottle of champagne add a wine-glass of Madeira or sherry, a liqueur-glass of Maraschino, two slices of Seville orange-peel, and one slice of lemon-peel. Before drinking, pour in a bottle of seltzer-water, and serve with a sprig of verbena or a very small piece of thinly cut peeling of cucumber.
To a bottle of Moselle add a sweet orange sliced, a leaf or two of mint, sage, borage, and the black currant. Let this stand for three hours; strain off, and sweeten to taste with clarified sugar.
To each bottle of still or sparkling Moselle add one bottle of soda-water, a glass of sherry or brandy, four or five thin slices of pine-apple, the peel of half a lemon cut very thin, and powdered sugar according to taste: let the whole stand about an hour, and before serving add some lumps of clear ice.
As No. 2, except the pine-apple, for which substitute a pint of fresh strawberries, or three or four peaches or nectarines.
As No. 2, but add, instead of fruit, some sprigs of woodruff. Woodruff is a herb much used on the Rhine for making May-Trank, its peculiar flavour being most powerful in May: it grows in forests in many parts of England.
When neither fruit nor woodruff can be obtained, add, instead of sherry or brandy, a glass or two of milk-punch, or essence of punch, and a little more of the lemon-peel.
Half a pound of loaf sugar steeped in water to saturation, one orange thinly sliced, a handful of fresh young woodruff, and two bottles of Moselle.
N.B. Hock may be substituted for Moselle.
A bottle of Bordeaux added to the foregoing improves it.
To a bottle of matured port add a wine-glass of sherry, some cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a small piece of bruised lemon-peel. Simmer the spice in a little water, then add the wine; heat, but do not let it boil, and sweeten.
The same as for mulled port, with the addition of a wine-glass of brandy.
Fill a tumbler three parts full of pounded ice, to which add two wine-glasses of sherry, a tablespoonful of brandy, two teaspoonfuls of powdered sugar, and two or three small pieces of lemon. Pour the mixture rapidly from one tumbler to another several times, throw in half a dozen strawberries, and drink the mixture through a straw, or stick of maccaroni.
To a quart of cider add half a lemon squeezed, three tablespoonfuls of powdered lump sugar, two wine-glasses of pale brandy, a wine-glass of Curaçoa, two slices of lemon, with grated nutmeg on the top. Ice well, and serve with borage.
To two bottles of cider add a bottle of port and a bottle of soda-water, orange-peel, and plenty of sugar. Ice well and serve with borage.
To a bottle of cider add one wine-glass of sherry, one liqueur-glass of orange-brandy, half a liqueur-glass of Curaçoa, and before drinking add a bottle of seltzer-water, a sprig of mint, and two or three lumps of ice.
Mix together two quarts of old bottled cider, sweeten to taste, taking care that the sugar is perfectly melted, add half a nutmeg grated, a little powdered ginger, a glass of brandy, a glass of noyau, cut a lemon into it in moderately thin slices, and let it remain there. Make it two hours before wanted, and stand in some ice. There is no better recipe than the above.
Three bottles of claret, one bottle of water, one wine-glass of Madeira, a liqueur-glass of Maraschino, four sweet oranges, three thin slices of cucumber or a piece of borage, half a pint of sirup, the flower and young part of borage, orange sliced with the peel; let it stand for three hours, then stir the sirup in one pound of sugar to half a pint of water, boiled till it thickens.
One pint of mountain wine, one of Madeira, and one of Lisbon, one bottle of champagne, one liqueur-glass of pale brandy, three thin slices of lemon, sugar, nutmeg. Ice to taste.
One pound and a half of lump sugar in very large lumps, one bottle of Cognac, one bottle of sherry or Madeira, three bottles of Moselle or hock, one bottle of champagne, half a pound of blanched almonds, the thinly shred rind of four lemons, four peaches sliced, or one pine-apple or preserved fruit. These are the ingredients. Now to prepare the nectar. On a large well-tinned copper stewpan place a gridiron, and on the gridiron the big lumps of sugar. Pour by degrees the Cognac over the sugar, lighting it as you pour it on. The sugar dissolves through the bars of the gridiron, and the spirit is burnt out: this constitutes caramel. Next add the sherry and fruity materials, which allow to digest for fifteen minutes, after which pour in the Moselle, and transfer the compound into a bowl. On serving add a bottle of champagne. Serve round in flat champagne-glasses with a spoon to each for extracting the fruit. (Cutler.)
ODE TO BEER.