Part 9
Similar experiments have been subsequently tried, several times in Paris and in the provinces. They have been tried under three different conditions. First, the guests have known what they were going to eat; secondly, they have been totally ignorant; and thirdly, they have been warned that they were going to eat something quite novel. Yet in every case, we are told, the result has been the same. It is right to add, that the author anticipates the objection that the animals selected were young horses in splendid condition, and that such horses are too valuable to be sent to the butcher. The majority of these experiments have, we are assured, been made at veterinary colleges, upon horses incapacitated by age or accident from further work. The horse which M. Renault served up to his friends had already _vingt-trois ans de bons et loyaux services_. He was in good ‘condition’--that is to say, well-fleshed, although paralysed. In fact, all the horses, it is asserted, were such as are sold for fifteen or twenty francs--not such as are the pride of our stables. The younger the horse, the better his flesh; and as young horses die daily from accidents, these, we presume, would form the ‘prime cuts.’ But old horses, used up, unfit even for cabs, if allowed a little rest, are capable, we are assured, of furnishing beef better than cow-beef. But this serving up of horse-flesh is equalled by that of the maître de cuisine to the Maréchal Strezzi, who, at the siege of Leith, according to Monsieur Beaujeu, ‘made out of the hind quarter of one salted horse forty-five _couverts_, that the English and Scottish officers and nobility who had the honour to dine with the Monseigneur, upon the rendition, could not tell what the devil any one of them were made upon at all.’ M. St. Hilaire discusses at great length many other objections, with which we need not here trouble ourselves. But the taste is spreading and the advocates increasing. The public use of horse-flesh as human food is spoken of approvingly in _Blackwood_.
The _New York Tribune_ thus endorses the fanatical idea of the French _savans_, (more properly _ravens_,) as to the propriety of eating horse-flesh:--
‘In the horse we have an animal which is much cleaner in its habits than the hog, herbivorous like the ox or sheep, whose flesh is rich in nitrogen, and as pleasant to the taste as that of either of the above-named animals. What prevents horse-flesh from being found on our tables? Nothing but a popular prejudice, which recent investigations in Paris show is entirely without any foundation whatever.
‘8,000 horses die, it is said, in New York annually, or about 22 per day’ (a great exaggeration no doubt); ‘but instead of fetching 17 or 18 dollars to press the carcase for grease, and to feed the hogs on to make pork for export, the prices will be greatly enhanced for meat for home consumption.’
Thus writes the Paris correspondent of the _Indépendance Belge_:--‘You know what interest is attached to-day--and very naturally so--to all questions relating to the public food. In connexion therewith, I have to mention a fact which is both curious and odd; it is, that there is being formed in Paris a society of economists, naturalists, and hardy gourmands, having for aim the introduction of horse-flesh into the category of butchers’ meat. It may perhaps be said, that this social phenomenon is not altogether new. Ten years ago, _hippophagy_ made some noise in Germany, and, if I remember right, a society of eaters of the horse was formed, and attempted a public festival, at which all the meat should be of that quadruped, but were interrupted by the public, who, feeling their prejudices wounded, broke the tables to pieces. At Paris, where all eccentricities are found, and even encouraged, there is nothing of that kind to fear. Accordingly, _hippophagy_ progresses. Do not consider this an exaggeration. The last number of the _Revue des Cours Publics_ will prove to you, by means of a summary, that M. Geoffroy de St. Hilaire has made the subject the theme of one of his recent lectures, and that the learned professor was greatly applauded. I should add that his auditors included economists, agriculturists, and heads of benevolent institutions. When the orator concluded by saying that the day was come when the horse ought to contribute to the nourishment of the human race, as well as the ox, the sheep, and the pig, a hundred voices cried in chorus, ‘_Oui! oui! très bien!_’ This question, strange at first sight, has been raised, and it will not sleep again. I predict that it will have not only numerous adherents, but eloquent fanatics. As a commencement, many of the auditors wished to eat horse soup, horse steaks, and the same flesh under other forms.’ At the time at which I write, dissertations are made, _brochures_ written, the regulations of a _hippophagic_ society drawn up, and the establishment of horse shambles demanded. In 1832, M. Alphonse Karr, mocking the extreme zeal of the society for protection, exclaimed--‘Philanthropists! the horse has carried man long enough; it is now for man to carry the horse!’
There is very little doubt that horse-flesh, besides its application for ‘cats’ meat,’ enters, even now, largely into surreptitious use in certain quarters in this country as food for bipeds. Thus, a Blackburn paper tells us that ‘on Monday last Mr. Laverty seized and confiscated the carcase of a horse. The animal had been stuck and bled, and was taken very near to the premises of a noted brawn and black-pudding maker. We understand that horse-flesh is used in this town by a certain vender and manufacturer of brawn.’
Hoffman and Burns, makers and venders of horse-meat sausages, at Philadelphia, were recently tried, convicted, and sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment. _Apropos_ of sausages, judging from the following anecdote, home-made ones are the more attractive.
‘A minister in one of our orthodox churches, while on his way to preach a funeral sermon in the country, called to see one of his members, an old widow lady, who lived near the road he was travelling. The old lady had just been making sausages, and she felt proud of them--they were so plump, round, and sweet. Of course she insisted on her minister taking some of the links home to his family. He objected on account of not having his portmanteau along with him. This objection was soon over-ruled, and the old lady, after wrapping them in a rag, carefully placed a bundle in either pocket of the preacher’s capacious great coat. Thus equipped, he started for the funeral.
‘While attending to the solemn ceremonies of the grave, some hungry dogs scented the sausages, and were not long in tracking them to the pockets of the good man’s over-coat. Of course this was a great annoyance, and he was several times under the necessity of kicking these whelps away. The obsequies at the grave completed, the minister and congregation re-passed to the church, where the funeral discourse was to be preached.
‘After the sermon was finished, the minister halted to make some remarks to his congregation, when a brother who wished to have an appointment given out, ascended the steps of the pulpit, and gave the minister’s coat a hitch to get his attention. The divine, thinking it a dog having designs upon his pocket, raised his foot, gave a sudden kick, and sent the good brother sprawling down the steps!
‘You will excuse me, brethren and sisters,’ said the minister, confusedly, and without looking at the work he had just done, ‘for I could not avoid it--I have sausages in my pocket, and that dog has been trying to grab them ever since I came upon the premises!’[10]
The reader may judge of the effect such an announcement would have at a funeral. Tears of sorrow were suddenly exchanged for smiles of merriment.
Mr. Richardson, officer of the Local Board of Health of Newton Heath, near Manchester, gave the following evidence before Mr. Scholefield’s Committee on Adulteration, before whom I was also examined as a witness.
‘We have in Newton five knackers’ yards, and there is only one in Manchester. The reason is, that they have so much toleration in Newton; and it has been a great source of profit to them, because they have the means of selling the best portions of the horse-flesh to mix with the potted meats.
‘I can say for a fact, that the tongues of horses particularly, and the best portions, such as the hind quarters of horses, are generally sold to mix with collared brawn, or pigs’ heads, as they are called with us, and for sausages and polonies. I understand, also, from those who have been in the habit of making them, that horse-flesh materially assists the making of sausages; It is a hard fibrin, and it mixes better, and keeps them hard, and they last longer in the shop window before they are sold, because otherwise the sausages run to water, and become soft and pulpy. I believe horse-flesh also materially assists German sausages; it keeps them hard.’
The instinct of the dog, the cat, and the rat, are so well known that one anecdote will suffice to illustrate the three. A terrier and a tom cat were pursuing a large rat down a street. The rat was almost caught, when it dodged suddenly and ran into a sausage shop. The cat and dog stopped convulsively at the door; and, looking at the sausages, hung their heads, and slunk away terror-stricken.
But in other quarters than England, unwholesome and infected meat is vended, for a year or two ago the editor of the _Madras Athenæum_ thus wrote:--
‘We question whether since the days of Pelops a more filthy dish was ever offered to human beings, than those which are daily served up to the European inhabitants of Madras. With respect to the state of our market, we have never seen a more disgusting receptacle of all kinds of abominations than that market presents.
‘A lazar house it seemed, wherein were laid Numbers of all diseased.’
‘Unfortunate beings in the worst stages of leprosy, naked, and covered all over with the livid spots of that hideous disease, standing at the stalls, handling the meat, and talking with the butchers, is a sight as common as it is horrible. As for the small-pox, that is almost too abundant to allow of any cases being particularly noticed. It is very conspicuous on the native, on account of the pustules being white. The only disease bearing any resemblance to it is the itch. We have ourselves observed a dirty fellow, with his hands covered all over with one of these nauseous eruptions, coolly walking down the whole length of a set of stalls, and clapping those abominable hands, in a lazy manner, upon every piece of meat within his reach. Faugh! The very thought smells. When we were last there, the place swarmed with pariah dogs, the effect of which was to render the stench and filth accumulated round the stalls perfectly unbearable. We are aware the subject is a nasty one, but at the risk of spoiling the breakfast of Brown, Jones, or Robinson, as they take up our damp sheet this morning, we make the evil conspicuous, and bring it plainly into notice, that measures may be taken to sink it into oblivion ever after. If one could jest upon such a subject, one might say, that the market of Madras is as much the morning lounge of the filthiest wretches in the place, as the stables of Taylor and Co. are the morning rendezvous of the rank and fashion, who there do congregate, to look at the Australians and Arabs ushered to their notice under the winning smile of the worthy head partner. Is not the thought horrible, too, that the fairer part of the creation, who should be fed on
‘Sugar and spice ‘And all that’s nice,
are offered such filthy and infected stuff?
‘We should also recommend attention being called to the practice, which we are afraid prevails, of ‘blowing the meat,’ to give it a good appearance. This is a cognizable offence, and butchers have, on occasion, most deservedly received a dozen or two for it; but the inducement to make their meat look tempting by filling it with breath, not quite so ‘fragrant as the flower of Amrou,’ is too profitable, we fear, to be disregarded upon the vague and distant contingency of a flogging or a fine. If the functionaries who are employed to superintend the market are insufficient in number, it would surely be poor economy not to increase them. If they are inattentive and remiss, discharge them. It would be pennywise, indeed, for a few paltry rupees a month, to allow a Secretary to Government, or a Member of Council, whose wisdom and experience have been purchased at an immense cost to the country, to be poisoned, which at present they are liable to be, by infected meat.
‘If by calling attention to the subject, some improvement is made, our object will be attained. We will gladly run the chance of spoiling a few dinners. Jones of the club, as he takes the cover off one of Maltby’s best _entrées_, may for once think of the leprous hand that has handled it; Brown may fancy for once he will catch small-pox from his beef-steak; Robinson may think of the dog licking the leg of mutton from which his whack is taken, and all may heartily anathematise the _Athenæum_ for telling them the truth, but we will cheerfully put up with their wry faces and abuse, if the necessary reform we advocate be attained.’
Sam Slick, in his truthful, but satirical vein, alludes to the disguises of fashionable cookery.--‘Veal’ (he says) ‘to be good, must look like anything else but veal. You mustn’t know it when you see it, or it’s vulgar; mutton must be incog, too; beef must have a mask on; any thin’ that looks solid, take a spoon to; any thin’ that looks light, cut with a knife; if a thing looks like fish, you take your oath it is flesh; and if it seems real flesh, it’s only disguised, for it’s sure to be fish; nothin’ must be nateral--natur is out of fashion here. This is a manufacturin’ country; everything is done by machinery, and _that_ that aint, must be made to look like it; and I must say, the dinner machinery is perfect.’
If horses are eaten, why not donkeys? The animal is more rare, and hence it would be the greater delicacy. The Greeks ate donkeys, and we must suppose they had their reasons for it. Has any modern stomach in Europe been courageous enough, knowingly, to try it?
The flesh of the common ass, though never eaten by us, is esteemed a delicacy in some countries, particularly in Tartary. The northern climate, pasturage, and freedom may have some effect on the flesh.
Travellers affirm that dogs’ flesh, which with us is intolerable, is one of the most savoury meats, when the animal has been kept for some time in the warm, tropical regions. This cannot, however, apply to the brutish pariah dogs that infest the streets of Madras, Constantinople, and other eastern towns.
The Roman peasants found the flesh of the ass palatable, and the celebrated Mæcenas having tasted it, introduced it to the tables of the great and rich, but the fashion of eating it lasted no longer than his life. Galen compares the flesh of the ass to that of the stag. It is said to be eaten plentifully in the low eating-houses of Paris, under the denomination of veal. The flesh of the wild ass is eaten by the Tartars, and is said to be very delicate and good, but when killed in a tame state, it is hard and unfit for food.
The wild ass, called Koulan by the Persians, is still common in many parts of Central Asia, from the 48° of North latitude to the confines of India. The Persians and Tartars hold its flesh in high esteem, and hunt it in preference to all other descriptions of game. Olearius assures us, that he saw no fewer than 32 wild asses slain in one day, by the Shah of Persia and his court, the bodies of which were sent to the royal kitchens at Ispahan; and we know from Martial, that the epicures of Rome held the flesh of the Onager, or wild ass, in the same estimation as we do venison.
Cum tener est _Onager_, solaque lalisio matre Pascitur; hoc infans, sed breve nomen habet.
[Martial, xiii. 97.]
From a passage in Pliny (lib. viii., c. 44), it would appear, that the Onager inhabited Africa; and that the most delicate and best flavoured _lalisiones_, or fat foals, were brought from that continent to the Roman markets. Leo Africanus repeats the same story of wild asses being found in Africa, but no traveller has since met with them; and, as far as we at present know, the species is confined to Asia.
The quaggas (_Asinus Quagga_) are often hunted in Africa by the Dutch for their skins, of which they make large bags to hold their grain, and by the Hottentots and other natives, who are very fond of their flesh.
Lieutenant Moodie (_Ten Years in South Africa_) says, ‘Being one morning at the house of a neighbouring farmer who had just shot one of these animals, I requested that he would have a piece of the flesh cooked for my breakfast. His ‘frow’ expressed some disgust at my proposal, but ordered a small bit to be grilled, with butter and pepper. I did not find it at all unpalatable, and certainly it was better than horse-flesh, to which I had been treated in the hospital at Bergen-op-Zoom in 1814, when lying wounded there, after the unfortunate failure of that well-planned attack.’
RUMINANTIA.
The ruminants furnish, as is well known, the largest portion of our animal food, being consumed by man alike in civilized or unsettled countries. The domestic animals require little notice at our hands. There are, however, some whose flesh is eaten in different countries that are less familiar. Thus the bison and musk-ox of North America, the reindeer of Greenland and Northern Europe--the various antelopes, the gnu, the giraffe, and the camel of Africa, and the alpaca tribe of South America, supply much of the animal food of the people in the districts where they are common.
The flesh of the camel is dry and hard, but not unpalatable. Heliogabalus had camels’ flesh and camels’ feet served up at his banquets. In Barbary, the tongues are salted and smoked for exportation to Italy and other countries, and they form a very good dish. The flesh is little esteemed by the Tartars, but they use the hump cut into slices, which, dissolved in tea, serves the purpose of butter.
The flesh of the Axis deer (_Cervus axis_, or _Axis maculata_) is not much esteemed in Ceylon, having little fat upon it, and being very dry. The India samver, or musk deer, is eaten there.
The flesh of the great moose deer or elk, of North America, the carcase of which weighs 1,000 or 1,200 lbs., is as valuable for food as beef, but from its immense size, much of the flesh is usually left in the forest.
It is more relished by the Indians and persons resident in the fur countries, than that of any other animal, and bears a greater resemblance in its flavour to beef than to venison. It is said that the external fat is soft like that of a breast of mutton, and when put into a bladder is as fine as marrow.
The flesh of the caribboo, a smaller animal, rarely exceeding 400 lbs., is less palatable than moose venison. Nor is the flesh of the red or Virginian deer much better, although the venison dried is very good.
Venison is not ‘meat’ in the parlance of the backwoodsman; that term, as Sam Slick tells us, is reserved _par excellence_ for pork; and he is frequently too indolent or too much occupied otherwise, to hunt, although deer tracks may be seen in every direction around the scene of his daily rail-splitting operations. He considers it cheaper to buy venison of the Indians, when there are any Indians in the locality. But venison has some solid value even in those parts, and if salted and smoked, would be entitled to a place among the articles of household thrift.
Of the Arctic quadrupeds, the reindeer (_Cervus tarandus_) is most valuable, its flesh being juicy, nutritious, and well-flavoured, and easy of digestion. They abound in Greenland, and are tolerably numerous in Melville Island.
In Sweden, roast reindeer steaks and game are dressed in a manner preferable to that which prevails with us. The flesh is first perforated, and little bits of lard inserted; and, after being baked in an oven, it is served in a quantity of white sauce.
The flesh of the young giraffe is said to be good eating. The Hottentots hunt the animal principally on account of its marrow, which, as a delicacy, they set a high value on.
The Hottentots have a curious mode of cooking their antelope venison, which renders it, however, exceedingly palatable. After stewing the meat in a very small quantity of water, they take it out of the pot and pound it between two stones until reduced to the consistency of pap, when they mix it with a considerable quantity of sheep’s fat, and then stew it for a short time longer. This is an excellent way of preparing dry flesh of any kind.
‘On one occasion’ (says Lieut. Moodie), ‘after I had taken out my share of this mess, the Hottentots added a larger quantity of fat to it to please their own palates; and one of them ate so heartily of the greasy mixture, that he became seriously unwell, but recovered by chewing dry roots of the sweet-scented flag (_Calamus aromaticus_). This plant is very much used by the Dutch for stomach complaints, and they generally cultivate some of it in wet places in their gardens.’
The eland of Africa (_Boselaphus Oreas_) is the largest of the antelope tribe, its size being indicated by its generic name. The bulls attain to the height of nineteen hands at the shoulder, and frequently exceed 1,000 lbs. in weight. It fattens readily on the most meagre herbage of the desert, and to the delicious, tender, juicy, and wholesome nature of its flesh every hunter will bear witness, who has regaled himself on the steaks broiled in the homely style of South African cookery, with some of the usual condiments or spices to give them an unnatural relish. The flesh has a peculiar sweetness, and is tender and fit for use the moment the animal is killed.
It is hunted with avidity, on account of the delicacy of its flesh, but is very rarely found within the limits of the Cape Colony, having been driven beyond the Orange River by the progress of colonization.
The hartebeest, an antelope of the size of the Scotch red deer, though now rather rare, is much prized by the African sportsman. It is also called caama by the Dutch farmers, and is a favourite object of pursuit with both natives and colonists. The flesh is rather dry, but of a fine grain, more nearly resembling the beef of the ox than that of any other antelope, except, perhaps, the so-called eland or elk of the colonists (_A. oreas_, Pallas), and it has a high game flavour which makes it universally esteemed.
The meat of the sassaby (_A. lunata_, Burchell), a rare species, is tender and well tasted. The flesh of the ourebi of Southern Africa (_A. scoparia_, Schreber), though dry and destitute of fat, is esteemed one of the best venisons of the country.
The flesh of the bosh-bok, or bush goat, as its colonial name implies (_A. sylvatica_, Sparrman), makes good venison, that of the breast being particularly esteemed. The flesh of the rheebok (_A. capreolus_, Lichstenstein) is dry and insipid, and relished less than that of any other of the numerous Cape antelopes. The bush antelope (_A. silvicultrix_, Afzelius) affords excellent venison, and is much sought after on that account. The flesh of the ahu (_A. subgutturosa_, Guldenstaedt) is excellent, and of an agreeable taste. That of the gnu of South Africa is in great repute both among the natives and Dutch settlers. Though the meat has a wildish flavour, it is more juicy than that of most of the antelope tribe, and very much like beef.
The flesh of the alpaca and guanaco is sold in the public shambles of Peru, Chili, &c.