Part 11

Beer is probably a word of German, as ale, signifying the same thing, is of Scandinavian origin. But the source of the German word is a moot question of comparative philology. Those interested in this matter may find abundant information in a note inserted by M. A. Schleicher in the _Zeitschrift_ of Kuhn. We are led thereby to a Gothic form, _pius_, which in its turn conducts us to the Lithuanian _pyvas_. _Pyvas_ or _pivas_—since etymology is a science _dans laquelle les consonants font peu de chose, et les voyelles rien de tout_—may be easily attached to the secondary root _piv_ found in the Sanskrit _pivâmi._ In Indo-European tongues, and in accordance with the dictum of Voltaire, p, b, v, are interchangeable as labials. And so we come to the conclusion that _pivas_, or its descendant _beer_, means nothing else but _drink_; or, in other words, that this particular form of drink is _the_ drink _par excellence_. And so we might rest content, were it not for the uneasy scruples of a certain M. Pictet, who has introduced a Slavic origin. But of etymology this taste will suffice.

Twenty centuries before the Christian era, Osiris, according to some authors, invented beer,[103] and according to others it has been at all times a drink of the Hebrews. We have, indeed, heard of Adam’s ale, but that term has been generally applied to a species of drink which would hardly come under our present category. It is perhaps more probable that the beverage of Osiris and the early Hebrews was a simple infusion of barley without more. Pliny, however, Theophrastus, and Tacitus, speak of beer as known from very early times to the people of the North, who were prevented by their situation from the cultivation of wine.[104]

The ancient beer of Egypt is compared by Diodorus Siculus to wine on account of its strength and flavour. This Egyptian beer is indeed spoken of by Herodotus as _barley wine_, a title which still survives in some of the windows of our public-houses. At present beer is the habitual drink of the English, German, Dutch, and Scandinavian races. A drink, better called _barley water_ than _beer_, appears to have been the favourite beverage of the Danes and Anglo-Saxons, our ancestors in the remote past. Before Christianity had enlightened and corrected their views about the delights of a future state, these benighted folk supposed that the chief felicity enjoyed by the good—in those days synonymous with the brave—after their death and transplantation into Odin’s paradise, would be to drink in large goblets large quantities of ale. Perpetual intoxication thus entered largely into their conception of celestial joy.

Beer as we understand it—modified, that is, by the introduction of the hop—was probably little known in England before the beginning of the sixteenth century. The varieties of beer at the present time are numerous. Some of them will be considered later on in detail. There are, however, only three principal types of fabrication,—the Belgian, Bavarian, and English. The beers of England, as of France, and for the most part of Germany, become sour by the contact of air. This defect is absent from Bavarian beers.

So favourite a drink has, of course, been largely adulterated. Taste, colour, and smell are frequently due to unscrupulous falsifications. Bitterness is produced by strychnine, aloes, nux vomica, gentian, quassia, centaury, pyrethrum, absinthe, and many other ingredients. Colour is obtained by liquorice, chicory, and caramel; and flavour by other additions, which perhaps it is better not to particularize. Water, of course, is added to beer, as to most drinks, to enlarge the quantity and therefore the price. Potatoes are frequently a substitute for grain. Potash is introduced to give the much-desired “_head_,” chalk to diminish acidity, and chloride of sodium, or common salt, for the sake of what is called a _piquant_ flavour. It were well if these little eccentricities of the beer vendors had here their confine; but the sacred hunger for gold has added, alas! to these, virulent and narcotic poisons,[105] such as belladonna and opium, henbane and picric or carbazotic acid. In the city of London this kind of adulteration was formerly, it was fondly imagined, to some extent prevented by some ancient guardians, known as _ale-conners_, who had the right of entering all public-houses and tasting their ales.

Only the most important beers of different countries are given in the following list, arranged alphabetically for convenience of reference:—

AFRICA.

Captain Clapperton _(Expedition to Africa_, i., 133, 187) found at Wow-wow, the metropolis of Borghoo, a kind of ale bearing the name of _pitto_, obtained from the same grain as that used for the same purpose in Dahomey, and by a process nearly similar to the brewing of beer in England from malt, only that no hops were added, a defect which prevented it keeping for any length of time. The people of the countries from the Gambia to the Senegal use a kind of beer called _ballo_. At a village called _Wezo_ there is a beer called _otèe_, a sort of ale made from millet, of a very enlivening nature. Another sort of beer, called _gear_, is found at Ragada. At _Whidah_ an excellent beer is made from two sorts of maize. The Jews at Taffilet use beer of their own brewing. Isaacs (_Travels in Africa_, ii., 319) says that the Zoola nation, between Delagoa Bay and the Bay of Natal, has a description of beer, with which the natives are wont to get drunk. This beer is made from a seed called _loopoco_, something in size and colour like rape. It has powerful fermenting properties, and forms a beverage of a light brown hue, potent and stimulating. In Sofala a beer is made from rice and millet; also in Abyssinia is to be found a drink of many names—_tallah_, or _selleh_, or _donqua_, or _sona_—commonly brewed from wheat, millet or barley, mixed with a bitter herb called _geso_. According to Bruce, Abyssinian beer of an inferior kind is made from _tocusso_. This is really a variety of _bouza_, which is also made from _teff_, the _poa abyssinica_ of botanists.

AMERICA.

_Persimon_ beer, from the fruit of the date plum (_Diospyros Virginiana_), is drunk in North America. In South America, long before the Spanish conquest, the Indians prepared and drank a beer obtained from Indian corn, called _chica_ or maize beer. The process followed in making _chica_ is very similar to that of beer brewing in Britain. The maize is moistened with water, allowed partially to germinate and dried in the sun. The maize malt so prepared is bruised, treated with warm water, and allowed to ferment. The liquor is yellow, and has an acid taste something like cider. It is in common demand on the west coast. In the valleys of the Sierra the maize malt is subjected to human mastication, not invariably by the young and beautiful girls, but by old ladies and gentlemen who still retain, by the indulgence of nature, the requisite dental arrangement. The saliva mixed with the chewed morsel is supposed to produce a more excellent _chica_. Indeed, the result is so choice that this kind is commonly called Peruvian nectar. _Chica_ can also be made from barley, rice, peas, grapes, pine-apples, and manioc. The Brazilians have a beer called _Vinho de Batatas_, from the Batata[106] root. _Sora_, a Peruvian beer, was formerly forbidden by the Incas because of its extremely intoxicating nature.

AUSTRIA.

The most famous beer is perhaps the Pilsener, or white beer, from Pilsen in Bohemia, the favourite drink in Vienna. Gratzer is brewed from wheat malt.

BAVARIA.

The peculiar flavour of the Bavarian ale is perhaps a result of the very free use of pitch or resinous matters to protect the wood of the fermenting tun, but it seems more probable that it is due to the commixture of pine tops. _Schenk_ beer is draught beer, in contradistinction to _Lager_, or store beer. The one is drunk in summer, the other in winter. _Bock beer_[107] and _Salvator_, dark heavy kinds of stout, are both well known. _Kaiserslautern_ is the name of a famous brewage in Rhenish Bavaria.

BELGIUM.

White beers, the result of a mixture of oats and wheat, called _Walgbaert_ and _Happe_, were made in Brussels in the fifteenth century. _Roetbier_ and _Zwartbier_ were, as their names tell us, red and black beers. _Cuyte_ was at one time a favourite and aristocratic drink. It has since fallen from its high estate. There are some forty kinds of beer, at least, now manufactured in Brussels. The white beer of Louvain in South Brabant is the most esteemed; but an Englishman has described it as having the flavour of pitch, soapsuds and vinegar. The winter brew is termed _Faro_, the summer _Lambic_. The _Faro_ is by some said to be prepared from the strong _Lambic_ and a small beer called _Mars_. All Belgium beers, according to the opinion of some experts, have a certain stamp of vinosity. In addition to the _Lambic_ and _Faro_, which are distinguished in this particular, may be mentioned the _Uitzet_ of Flanders, the _Arge_, of Antwerp, and _Fortes-Saisons_ of the Walloons. The white sparkling beers of Louvain are the best of summer beers, they are succeeded by those of _Hougaerde_ and _Diest_. The brown beers of _Malines_ and the _Saison_ of _Liege_ possess good reports. Latterly the _Grisettes_ of _Gembloux_, the beer of _Dinant_, the _blonde_ of _Buiche_, and the ale of _Oppuers_ have been creditably mentioned.

BORNEO.

The aborigines[108] of Borneo, if we are to believe Commodore Roggewein,[109] are the “basest, most cruel and perfidious people in the world.” They are “honest, industrious, strongly affectionate and self-denying,” if we are to credit the account of the Italian missionary, Antonio Ventimiglia. When such diversity of opinion is manifested about the people, some discordance might naturally be supposed to exhibit itself in the matter of their potations. But this is not thus. The great drink of the Beajus is allowed on all hands to be the _ava_ or _cava_, prepared from the _piper methysticum_, or intoxicating pepper plant. This is a shrub with thick roots, long heart-shaped leaves, and a clump or spike of berries. The root is chewed only—it is satisfactory to learn—by young girls with good teeth and dainty mouths.[110] Water or cocoa-nut milk is poured on the masticated pulp, fermentation ensues, and the _Beajus_ drink and become drunken. The mass of chewed matter is kneaded with considerable dexterity by practised professionals. “Every tongue is mute,” says Mariner—one of the crew of a vessel seized by the natives in the commencement of this century,—“while this operation is going on; every eye is upon them, watching every motion of their arms as they describe the various curvilinear turns essential to success.” _Ava_ is also drunk in Otaheite, in the Feejee islands, and those of the Marquesas and of the South Seas.

CHINA.

_Tar-asun_, extracted from barley or wheat, is the beer of China. It is sweet, and commonly drunk warm, before distillation. The mixed liquor from which it is prepared is called _tchoo_, or wine; after that, _sam_ or _san_ is prefixed, to show its hot nature. _Samtchoo_—the word is spelt in many ways—may, says Barrow (_Travels_, p. 304), be considered the basis of the best _arrack_, itself a mere rectification of the above spirit with the addition of molasses and the juice of the cocoa-nut tree. _Bell’s Travels_, ii., 9.

ENGLAND.

Love of the English for Beer—A National Drink—Private Brewing—A French View of English Society—Sir John Barleycorn—The “Black Jack” and “Leather Bottel”—“Toby Philpot”—Burton-on-Trent—Bottled Beer—Brewers—The Village Ale-house—Various Beers.

“Back and syde goo bare, goo bare, Both hande and foote goo colde; But, Bellie, God send the good ale inowghe Whether hyt be newe or old.”

“Brynge us home good ale, syr, brynge us home good ale, And for our der lady’s love, brynge us som good ale. Brynge us home no beff, syr, for that is full of bonys, But brynge us home goode ale y-nough, for that my love alone ys; Brynge us home no wetyn brede, for yᵗ be ful of branne, Nothyr of no ry brede, for yᵗ is of yᵉ same; Brynge us home no porke, syr, for yᵗ is verie fatt, Nothyr no barly brede, for neythir love I that; Brynge us home no muton, for that is tough and lene, Neyther no trypys, for thei be seldyn clene; Brynge us home no veel, syr, that do I not desyr, But brynge us home good ale y-nough to drynke by yᵉ fyer; Brynge us home no syder, nor no palde[111] wyne, For, and yᵘ do, thow shalt have Criste’s curse and mine.”

The foregoing verses epitomise the praise of good beer. The first is from one of the earliest known drinking songs in the English language—the last is an old Wassail song—the Wassail bowl, which was of hot spiced ale, with roasted apples bobbing therein,—a kindly way of welcome on New Year’s Eve, of Saxon derivation as its name “Wes-hal,” _be of health_, or _your health_, testifies.

That the Anglo-Saxon took kindly to his beer, we have already seen; and that that feeling exists at the present day is undoubted, for what says the refrain of a comparatively modern drinking song?

“I loves a drop of good beer—I does— I’se partickler fond of my beer—I is— And ⸺ their eyes, If ever they tries To rob a poor man of his beer.”

Its popularity has never waned—and it has reached to such a height that the brewing trade seems to be instituted for the propagation of Peers of the realm—a fact which Dr. Johnson even could not have foreseen, although, at the sale of Thrale’s brewery, he did say that they had not met together to sell boilers and vats, but “the potentiality of growing rich beyond the dream of avarice.”

It was the national drink—for tea and coffee were not introduced into England until the middle of the seventeenth century—and it is only of very modern times that the “free breakfast table” fad of statesmanship has made those beverages so popular, by bringing them within the means of the very poorest. Beer was, perforce, drank morning, noon and night by those, and they were the vast majority, who could not afford wine—and, as a rule, after the Norman Conquest, when the Anglo-Saxons copied the soberer customs of their conquerors, the English were not drunkards as a nation; in fact, although almost all their jests hinge on drinking, there is in most of them an underlying moral, which in print are as telling as in this illustration, which, in deference to nasty Mrs. Grundy, has been slightly toned down. Here is very cleverly satirised for reprobation the phases of men under the influence of drink. How it transforms them into beasts, some like lions, others like asses and calves, sensual as hogs, greedy as goats, stupid as gulls.

Every man brewed his own beer up to the seventeenth century, when we find Pepys speaking of Cobb’s strong ales at Margate; and in the reign of Queen Elizabeth the public brewing had begun at Burton, for an inquiry was made by Walsingham to Sir Ralph Sadler, the governor of Tutbury Castle, as to “What place neere Tutbury, beere may be provided for her Majesty’s use?” and the answer was that it might be obtained at Burton, three miles off. Good Queen Bess would, indeed, have fared badly without her beer, for her breakfast beverages were always beer and wine.

Yet every one was fairly sober. They were weaned on alcoholic liquors, and, consequently, enjoyed them as foods, as they undoubtedly are, if properly used. It is very well to “see our sen as others see us,” but it is almost impossible to agree with Estienne Perlin, who published his _Description des Royaulmes d’Angleterre et d’Escosse_, at Paris in 1558, in which he says that the English “sont fort grands yvrongnes.” His description is, we feel, as untrustworthy as his English. “Car si un Anglois vous veult traicter, vous dira en son langage, _vis dring a quarta rim vim gasquim, vim hespaignol, vim malvoysi_, c’est a dire veulx tu venir boire une quarte de vin du gascoigne, une autre d’espaigne, & une autre de malvoisie, en beuvant & en mengeant vous diront plus de cent fois _drind iou_, c’est a dire je m’en vois boyre a toy, & vous leur responderes en leur langage _iplaigiu_, qui est a dire, je vous plege. Si vous les remarcies vous leurs dires en leurs langages, _god tanque artelay_, c’est a dire, je vous remercie de bon cœur. Eulx estans yvres, vous jureront le sang et le mort que vous beures tout ce que vous tenes dedans vostre tace, & vous diront ainsi, _bigod sol drind iou agoud oin_.” It is much to be feared that the worthy Frenchman, if his description is to be at all relied on, mixed with rather a fast lot.

Ale was looked upon as a kindly creature, and our ancestors of the seventeenth century had several ballads in praise of the “little Barleycorn” and the indictment, as well as the “Bloody Murther,” of Sir John Barleycorn. From this latter the peasant poet, Burns, plagiarised right royally. There was also a very curious Chap book published in the early part of the eighteenth century, entitled,

“The whole TRIAL and INDICTMENT of _Sir_ JOHN BARLEY-CORN—_Kⁿᵗ_.

A Person of Noble Birth and Extraction, and well known by Rich and Poor throughout the Kingdom of _Great Britain_: Being accused of several Misdemeanours, by him committed against His Majesty’s Liege People; by killing some, wounding others, and bringing Thousands to Beggary, and ruins many a poor Family.

Here you have the Substance of the Evidence given in against him on his Trial, with the Names of the Judges, Jury, and Witnesses. Also the Comical Defence Sir _John_ makes for himself, and the Character given him by some of his Neighbours, namely, _Hewson_ the Cobbler, an honest friend of Sir John’s, who is entomb’d as a _Memorandum_, at the _Two Brewers_ in _East Smithfield_.

_Taken in Short Hand by_ Thomas Tosspott, _Foreman of the Jury_.”

One of the witnesses, hight Mistress _Full-Pot_, the hostess, called in his defence, thus winds up her evidence,—

“Nay, I beseech you, give me leave to speak to you; if you put him to Death, all _England_ is undone, for there is not such another in the Land that can do as he can do, and hath done; for he can make a Cripple to go, he can make a Coward to fight with a valiant Soldier, nay, he can make a good Soldier feel neither Hunger or Cold. Besides, for Valour in himself, there are few that can encounter with him, for he can pull down the strongest Man in the World, and lay him fast asleep.”

Of course, the jury found a verdict of _Not Guilty_.

Beer has a large literature of its own, principally metrical, but this has pretty well been collected in two books—_The Curiosities of Ale and Beer_, by John Bickerdyke; and _In Praise of Ale_, by W. T. Marchant—either of which would be a valuable addition to any one’s library. Yet in neither of them is met with Ned Ward’s “_Dialogue between Claret and Darby Ale_,” published 1691, in which each of the drinks speak for themselves; and, of course, the arguments of ale are all potent over his antagonist. Space will only allow of a very short extract.

“_Darby._—I’m glad to know you, High and Mighty _Sir_; Think you your pompous empty Name could stir My Choler? No, your Title makes me fear As much as if you’d been _Six Shilling Beer_.

_Claret._—Thou _Son of Earth_, thou dull insipid thing, To level me, who am of Liquors _King_, With lean _Small Beer_, but that thou art not worth My Anger, else I’de frown thee into Earth.

_Darby._—I neither fear your Frown, nor court your Smile; But, if I’m not mistaken all this while, By other names than Claret you are known—

_Claret._—You do not hear me, Sir, the Fact disown, Some call me _Barcelona_, some _Navar_, Some _Syracuse_, but at the Vintner’s Bar _My_ name’s _Red Port_. But call me what they will, _Claret_ I am, and will be Claret still,” etc., etc.

Not content with praising the liquor ale, our ancestors fell to eulogising the vessels used for its consumption, and the “Black Jack” and “Leather Bottel” both came in for their meed of praise. Sketches of a fine example of each are here given, taken from the national collection in the British Museum.

The Black Jack is a jug or pitcher, made of leather, which was sometimes ornamented with a silver rim and a silver plate with the owner’s name or coat of arms engraved thereon. Here is a short lyric, “In praise of the Black Jack.”[112]

“Be your liquor small, or as thick as mudd, The cheating bottle cryes, good, good, good, Whereat the master begins to storme, Cause he said more than he could performe. _And I wish that his heires may never want Sack,_ _That first devis’d the bonny black Jack._

No Tankerd, Flaggon, Bottle nor Jugg Are half so good, or so well can hold Tugg, For when they are broke, or full of cracks, Then they must fly to the brave black Jacks. _And I wish_, etc.

When the Bottle and Jack stands together, O fie on’t, The Bottle looks just like a dwarfe to a Gyant; Then had we not reason Jacks to chuse For this’l make Boots, when the Bottle mends shoes. _And I wish_, etc.

And as for the bottle you never can fill it Without a Tunnell, but you must spill it, ’Tis as hard to get in, as it is to get out, ’Tis not so with a Jack, for it runs like a Spout _And I wish_, etc.

And when we have drank out all our store, The Jack goes for Barme to brew us some more; And when our Stomacks with hunger have bled, Then it marches for more to make us some bread. _And I wish_, etc.

I now will cease to speak of the Jack, But hope his assistance I never shall lack, And I hope that now every honest man, Instead of Jack will y’clip him John. _And I wish_, etc.”

But the composer of “A Song in praise of the Leather Bottel” could rise to the magnitude of his subject in a far superior manner than the preceding poet, the refrain of his song being of a higher type.

“And I wish in Heaven his Soul may dwell, That first devised the Leather Bottel.”

The uses of the Bottel were so manifest, and its material so superior to any other, that it occupied a higher position. It was better than wood, for it would not run, and was unbreakable. When a man and his wife fell out, as will occasionally happen even in the best matrimonial existence, the bottel could be thrown at each other, without great injury either to human, or the bottel. It held no temptation to steal, as if it were of silver; nor could it be broken, as if it were of glass—because, as the song justly says,—

“Then what do you say to these Glasses fine? Yes, they shall have no Praise of mine; For when a Company there are sat, For to be merry, as we are met; Then, if you chance to touch the Brim, Down falls your Liquor, and all therein; If your Table Cloath be never so fine, There lies your Beer, your Ale or Wine; It may be for a small Abuse, A young Man may his Service lose; But had it been in a Leather Bottel, And the Stopple in, then all had been well.”

The rhymester recapitulates the gratitude of all classes for this extremely handy and unbreakable convenience, and winds up thus, somewhat sadly—