CHAPTER V.

THE OYSTER IN ITS NEW SETTLEMENT.

Dredging for Oysters; Oyster-beds and their formation; Sergius Orata; Pliny the Elder; Baia and the Lucrine Sea; Roman Epicurism and Gluttony; Martial and Horace, Cicero and Seneca; Masticate Oysters, and do not bolt them whole; Mediterranean and Atlantic Oysters; Agricola and the Rutupians; Apicius Cœlius, Trajan, Pliny, and the Vivarium.

The Oyster does not leave his home like the duckling, upon the call of "come here and be killed." If he is wanted, like Mrs. Glasse's hare, we must "first catch him." This is done by dredging, and this dredging for oysters is performed by means of rakes and scrapers, on which is fastened a bag of sail-cloth, leather, or net-work. These are lowered into the sea by means of ropes and chains, and are dragged along its bottom by boats in full sail, or by rowing-boats. When the net or scraper is drawn to the surface, the oysters are immediately separated from all else which may be swept up. These oysters are then stowed away and sent up to market in due course. But it is not of these that are formed the new settlements or oyster-beds, which I am about to describe.

These oyster-beds are cavities or reservoirs which communicate with the sea by means of canals, and are placed in such manner that the level beds remain dry when the tide is high. These beds are made with sand-stones or other hewn stones; and the water is kept in or let out at low tide by means of locks, or traps, as may be most readily effected.

At some periods, however, the water is kept in for many days, or even weeks together. In the latter case the oyster becomes, for the most part, very tender, and green and fat, because the stagnant water promotes the germination of those microscopical spores of marine plants, which always abound in natural sea-water, and upon which it delights to feed. These reservoirs, therefore, are not only the means of preserving them for sale, but of purifying them from the muddy odour which they have imbibed at sea, and which indicates them to be hard and devoid of that luscious and somewhat gastronomic quality so much prized by the world at large.

The bottom and sides of these caves or reservoirs are paved with stones and thick layers of sand, to keep them free from all mud, which is not only very injurious to the animal, but sure to harbour its enemies; and great care is also observed not to admit too great a flow of water at one time, as that might drive particles of sand into the shells. When the reservoir is properly prepared, the oysters are placed in their natural position—the flat side being upwards, in a sloping or horizontal direction. The more care that is taken in keeping their beds clean and free from mud, by washing the sides of the reservoirs, pouring water over the oysters, especially those which are dry, and removing the dead ones, which can be recognised by their shells being open, the better; for the more valuable will they be as human food, both as to profit and condition, and the more appreciated by the gastronomic million, who hail the oyster season as does a sportsman the advent of grouse and partridges, hares and pheasants.

The oysters, which are thus preserved, cleaned, nursed, and fattened are taken from their beds at the low tide when the water is out.

There are doubts, various and conflicting, as to whether oysters contained in reservoirs, where the water is changed each successive tide, are not on that account preferable to those which exist in the same water for two weeks at a time. I give a decided preference to the latter, though the water must be kept very clean by constant care and attention to the removal of the dead, the decomposition of which would otherwise, but for the frequent change of water, seriously affect the health of the whole settlement, by an accumulation of sulphuretted hydrogen, with a smell like that emitted by the Thames and other drainage rivers in the dog-days. These oysters slip down the human throat divine with a tenderness and sublime relish which no words can describe.

Let me pass over, for the nonce, the mode of packing and sending them to the interior. Thanks to the railways, the gastronomical delight of oyster eating is now secured to many who for years scarcely knew what an oyster meant in its entire freshness and best qualities.

Sergius Orata, as Pliny the Elder tells us in the eighty-ninth book of his invaluable Natural History, and, as we have already stated, first conceived the idea of planting oysters in beds. This epicure had large reservoirs made at Baia, where he gathered thousands of these mollusks. Not far from these oyster-beds rose a palace in which the wealthy Roman used to assemble his choicest friends and feast with them the whole day and night. Oysters occupied the place of honour on the table of Sergius Orata; at every feast thousands of them were consumed. Satiated, but not yet satisfied, these gourmets were in the habit of adjourning into an adjoining room, where they relieved the stomach of its load by artificial means, and then returned to indulge again their appetite with a fresh supply of oysters.

Strange as it may appear to us in the nineteenth century, this custom was universal amongst the wealthy of Imperial Rome, Cæsar himself often indulging in it, when the repast was to his taste; and ladies, the cream of the cream of that luxurious period, carried about with them peacocks' feathers and other dainty throat ticklers for the purpose, when they anticipated a more luxurious feed than usual.

Who amongst us cares to eat white-bait in the crowded city? When the mood seizes us, do not we take boat and proceed up or down the river, as the whim dictates? The old Roman had no white-bait; and the oyster to him was therefore doubly welcome. To him the journey to his marine villa, by water or land, as with us, added but a zest to the anticipated treat. In the Bay of Naples is a smaller bay close to its most north-western point, bounded on the west by the pretty town of Baia and its hot wells, and on the north-east by the no less charming town of Pozzuoli. These little bays on the Italian coasts are dignified by the name of seas by the writers of classical antiquity, and round the headland of Baia, to the north, in the open Mediterranean—the Tyrrhenian Sea—just such another bay, the present Lago di Fusaro, was called the Lucrine Sea, with its far-famed oyster-beds, easy of access from Baia and Pozzuoli, both situated in a charming country. Here, close to the Lucrine, under a clear sky, surrounded by a delightful atmosphere, were situated the country houses of the more wealthy Romans, where, far away from business and the noise and turmoil of the forum, these accomplished disciples of Epicurus, without fear or care, used to give themselves up to the delights of the table. Here they tasted the little-shelled oysters which Martial liked so much, and which, but a few hours previously to being served up, had been gathered on the sea-shore.

Gastronomic annals mention the names of some of these dainty persons who daily swallowed several hundreds of oysters; but Vitellius in this respect beat them all. That emperor, it is said, ate oysters four times a day, and at each meal swallowed neither more nor less than 1200 of them. Seneca himself, who so admirably praises the charms of poverty, yet left prodigious wealth behind him; Seneca the wise and moderate, ate several hundreds of them every week.

"Oyster, so dear to people of taste!" he exclaims; "thou dost but excite instead of satisfying the appetite, never causing indisposition, not even when eaten to excess; for thou art easy of digestion, and the stomach yields thee back with facility." Cicero did not hesitate to confess that he had a special predilection for oysters; but he adds, that he could renounce them without any difficulty; which, by the way, he might as well have told to the Marines, if they were in existence in his day, for all the credence this remark of his has gained from posterity.

We prefer Horace, who in every passage honestly makes known his love for oysters, and eats them himself with as much gusto as he extols them to others. Carefully, too, does he note down from whom he procured them, and the name of the famous gourmet who at the first bite was able to tell whether an oyster came from Circe or the Lucrine Sea, or from any part of Natolia. The ancients, our teachers in all arts, but especially in æsthetics, did not bolt the oyster, but masticated it. With true Epicurean tact, they always extracted the full enjoyment out of the good things set before them. Not so we; most of us now bolt them; but this is a mistake, for the oyster has a much finer flavour, and is far more nourishing, when well masticated.

"Those who wish to enjoy this delicious restorative in its utmost perfection," says Dr. Kitchener, "must _eat_ it the moment it is opened, with its own gravy in the under shell; if not _eaten_ absolutely alive, its flavour and spirit are lost. The true lover of an oyster will have some regard for the feelings of his little favourite, and contrive to detach the fish from the shell so dexterously that the oyster is hardly conscious he has been ejected from his lodging till he _feels the teeth_ of the piscivorous gourmet tickling him to death."

The Romans needed not even the use of their teeth to tell from whence the oyster came; a mere look sufficed to distinguish it, as may be seen in the following lines ascribed to Lucilius.

"When I but see the oyster's shell, I look and recognize the river, marsh or mud, Where it was raised."

Nor was this so very difficult a matter, for the shell, no less than the animal itself, as has already been shown, exhibits the nature of the food upon which the oyster has fed.

In Italy and Gaul it was for a long time a matter of dispute, which country produced the best oysters. At that time the Lucrine Sea maintained the superiority; but Pliny preferred those from Circe. "According to my opinion," he says, "the most delicious and most tender oysters are those from Circe."

At last, however, the preference was given to those of Britain, which under the wise administration of Julius Agricola had conformed to the manners and customs of her conquerors, and there no longer was need of dispute as to whether the Mediterranean oysters of Italy or Gaul should have the precedence. The little watery pulpy dabs, which had hitherto delighted the conquerors of the world, were cast aside in disgust. They had found a real oyster at last, and the insignificant and flavourless bivalves of the coasts of Italy ceased to be in demand. From that time, on the shores of the Atlantic, thousands of slaves were employed in procuring the oysters, which in Rome were paid for by their weight in gold. The expenses were so great that the censors felt themselves obliged to interfere. Not content with getting their oysters from distant shores, they had means by which to preserve them for some time in hot weather; for which purpose, as we see in the Pompeian model-house at the Crystal Palace, their domiciles were furnished with a receptacle for water; for with those famous epicures the water-vivary was an essential necessary for the preservation of living fish, and all that was necessary was to substitute sea-water for fresh. Probably by some such means, Apicius Cœlius, who must not be confounded with the writer of a book of cookery which bears his name, sent Trajan, when that emperor was in the country of the Parthians, oysters, which when received were as fresh as they ever could be eaten when just taken from their beds; and Pliny even believed that the journey had proved beneficial to their flavour.