Part 3

"My sober evening let the tankard bless, With _toast_ embrown'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 to _toast_;"

and Prior, in the "Camelion," says,

"But if at first he minds his hits, And drinks champaign among the wits, Five deep he _toasts_ the 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."

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 only _gentlemen_; neither do we meet them amid the carousals of Whitehall and Alsatia, or, nearer to our own day, among the vicious _coteries_ of 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. _Mum_ is 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.

HINTS TO CUP-BREWERS.

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 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 quaffed _ad 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 not Of licoure any sygne,"

let _quality_ prevail over _quantity_, 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."

OLD RECIPES.

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.

_Metheglin._

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."

_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.

_The Wassail Bowl._

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."

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."

This recipe is given _verbatim_, in 'Oxford Night-caps.'

MODERN RECIPES.

PUNCH.