Part 36

A round, low table, made of common wood, and resting on three legs, was placed in the dining-room of persons in humble life; the rich had it made of lemon or maple wood, and supported by a single ivory foot.[XXXII-49] Three couches at most were arranged round this table (_triclinium_);[XXXII-50] sometimes two, which Plautus names _biclinium_;[XXXII-51] and these they covered with purple or other magnificent stuffs.[XXXII-52] Before they placed themselves, the guests performed their ablutions and threw off their togas, to substitute the “dinner robe.”[XXXII-53] They then took off their sandals,[XXXII-54] and lay down, three or four on each couch.[XXXII-55] The rules of good society did not allow that number to be exceeded.

The upper part of the body was supported by the left elbow; the lower part was extended. The head was slightly raised, and downy little cushions supported the back.[XXXII-56] When several persons occupied the same couch, the first placed himself at the head, in such a manner that his feet nearly reached the shoulders of the second guest, whose head was before the middle of the body of the preceding one, from whom he was separated by a cushion; and his feet descended to the back of the third guest, who followed the same order with respect to the fourth.[XXXII-57]

When a couch contained three persons, the one in the middle occupied the place of honour; when there were four, that distinction belonged to the second. The place at the head of the couch was only offered to the most worthy, when not more than two persons were on the couch.[XXXII-58]

Among the Persians, the middle place was reserved for the king. Cyrus placed on his left the guest to whom he wished to do the most honour, the next on his right, the third on the left, the fourth on the right, and so on, down to the last.[XXXII-59] In Greece, the most distinguished personage occupied the head of the table.[XXXII-60]

The voluptuous Heliogabalus only made use of couches stuffed with hares’ down or partridges’ feathers.[XXXII-61] The Emperor Œlius Verus introduced a more exquisite novelty: he had his filled with lily and rose leaves.[XXXII-62] The first of these princes--a cruel monarch, or capricious child, according to his strange whims--amused himself, sometimes, by placing on a couch, round the sigma, at one time eight bald men; at another, eight gouty men; one day, eight grey-headed old men; another day, eight very fat men, who were so crowded together that it was almost impossible for them to raise their hands to the mouth. And the brainless dolt shook with laughter at their efforts and their contortions.[XXXII-63] One of his favourite diversions consisted in filling a leathern table-couch with air, instead of wool; and while the guests were engaged in drinking, a tap, concealed under the carpet, was opened, unknown to them; the couch sank, and the drinkers rolled pell-mell under the sigma, to the great delight of the beardless emperor, who enjoyed greatly his _espiéglerie_.[XXXII-64]

The Celts seated themselves at their repasts on hay, before very low tables;[XXXII-65] the Belgians reclined on a kind of couch;[XXXII-66] the Gauls on the skins of dogs or wolves.[XXXII-67] These different authorities are easily reconciled; for they relate to different cantons of Gaul.

The use of couches was not unknown in the middle ages; we find the proof of it in the _fabliaux_ of the 13th century. We have also the description of a magnificent repast given by a bishop to two great officers of Charlemagne, at which the prelate was seated, or lying, on feather cushions.[XXXII-68] But this fashion was unsuccessful, and people preferred wooden seats and stools, covered with carpet. When they gave a great feast, they seated the guests on benches--_bancs_--whence comes the word “banquet.”[XXXII-69] Henry III. of France introduced arm-chairs for himself, and folding stools for his suite.[XXXII-70] Sometimes people eat on the floor. St. Arnold, Bishop of Soissons, took his repast in that manner on the day of the dedication of a church, after having had carpets spread on the ground.[XXXII-71] In winter the banqueting place was spread with straw or hay, and in summer with grass and leaves. Publicans and tavern-keepers decorated their rooms in like manner.[XXXII-72]

The gallantry of the middle ages had led to the adoption of a rather singular custom, which consisted in placing the guests two and two, man and woman, and serving for each couple one common dish, which they called “eating in the same porringer.” Neither had they more than one cup. In families the same goblet served for all. Saint Berlanda was disinherited by her father, who was exasperated because, under pretext that he was leprous, she had washed his goblet before making use of it for herself.[XXXII-73]

A passage in Martial would seem to imply that the guests, among the Romans, laid the cloth themselves;[XXXII-74] that is to say, they spread on the sigma the stuff, more or less precious, with which it was to be adorned.

A somewhat whimsical custom was established in the middle ages of chivalry. When it was intended to affront any one, a herald, or king-at-arms, was sent to cut the cloth before him, and turn his bread upside down. That was called “cutting away the cloth,” and was practised in reference to cowards and faithless vassals. It is thought that Bertrand Duguesclin was the originator of this custom.[XXXII-75]

Mention is made of table-cloths in the life of St. Eloi. They were in use on common tables; but the costly ones were not covered. These cloths were plushed and shaggy, as we find by the description of Nigellus, the author of a poem on Louis-le-Débonnaire. They were of vast dimensions. In the inventory of certain effects in the monastery of Fontenelle, in the 9th century, we read of four table-cloths, each of which measured twelve yards and a-half by two and a-half; another, twelve and a-half by three and three-quarters; and thirteen, three yards and three-quarters wide.

In the 12th and 13th centuries table-cloths were called, in France, _doubliers_, doubtless because they were folded in two. This practice was eventually given up; and instead of a doubled cloth, the first was covered by a smaller one, and removed at the last course. Henry III. required this dessert cloth to be artistically plaited, so as to present pleasing designs.[XXXII-76]

Napkins were much used in Greece and Italy. In the time of Augustus, and many years after, each guest brought his own, as we bring our pocket-handkerchiefs. Catullus complains of a certain Asinius, who had stolen his. Martial brings a similar accusation against a parasite named Hermogenes.[XXXII-77]

Napkins were sometimes made of asbestos, and they were thrown into a brazier to clean them.[XXXII-78] But these rarities were seldom possessed by any but princes, for asbestos was as expensive as jewels.[XXXII-79]

The constitution of St. Ansegisius for the monastery of Fontenelle mentions plush napkins to wipe the hands, but they were only used before and after the repast. The town of Rheims was renowned in the middle ages for the manufacture of table linen. When Charles VII. made his entrance there they presented him with napkins, “very rich and curious by reason of the beautiful flowered work.”

XXXIII.

THE SERVANTS.

All the opulent families had a great number of servants, or slaves, whose low extraction,[XXXIII-1] the chances of war,[XXXIII-2] or the parental will,[XXXIII-3] subjected to the caprices of the rich as a mere thing possessed, a right, a property (_res_).

They were known, like the slaves of the Jews[XXXIII-4] in former times, by their ears, which were pierced with an awl;[XXXIII-5] an ineffaceable stigma, which always reminded the freed-man of his former humiliation. The slave was also often marked with a hot iron on the back, the hands, the cheeks, or the forehead; and the characters thus imprinted served the master as an evidence against his fugitive servant in whatsoever place he might find him.[XXXIII-6] It is, perhaps, to similar marks that the prophet Zechariah makes allusion, when he says: “What are these wounds in thine hands?”[XXXIII-7] Plautus, whose comic vein respects neither the power of the Gods nor the sanctity of misfortune, calls these unfortunate creatures “lettered slaves” (_servos literatos_).[XXXIII-8]

A house of any note could not do without a crowd of servants, to whom the steward (_dispensator_) apportioned the labour, the food, and the chastisements.[XXXIII-9]

In a lodge near the vestibule was the porter (_ostiarius_),[XXXIII-10] whose watchful eye observed every one who went in or out by day or night. They made sure of his vigilance by chaining him to his place.[XXXIII-11]

The hall (_atrium_) was guarded by an intelligent and confidential servant, whose functions raised him above the other slaves.[XXXIII-12] The _atriensis_--such was his designation--had the care of the arms, trophies, precious furniture, and books, which adorned this apartment. He had also to take extreme care of the paintings and wax figures there preserved from motives of vanity or by a sentiment of respect; and it was he who carried those images of venerated ancestors before the funeral procession of the head of the family when, in his turn, death had numbered him with his progenitors.[XXXIII-13]

The _obsonator_ bought in the markets the meat, fruit, and delicacies necessary for the repasts.[XXXIII-14]

The _vocatores_ carried the invitations, received the guests, and placed them at table according to their rank.[XXXIII-15] These functions required a peculiar kind of urbanity and long experience on the part of the individual who fulfilled them.

The arrangement, the keeping in order, and adornment of the table-couches belonged exclusively to the _cubicularii_ (valets).[XXXIII-16] These servants are mentioned in Suetonius and other ancient authors. The Cæsars had a great number of _cubicularii_ who obeyed one particular chief.[XXXIII-17]

The _dapiferi_ brought the dishes into the dining-room,[XXXIII-18] and the nomenclators (_nomenculatores_) immediately informed the guests of the names and qualities of the things with which they were going to be served.[XXXIII-19]

The _structor_ arranged the dishes symmetrically.[XXXIII-20] The _scissor_ (carver) cut up the meats to the sound of musical instruments, of which he followed the measure. Finally, young slaves (_procillatores_),[XXXIII-21] served the guests attentively, and poured out their drink. Those chosen for this employment were fine, beardless, adolescent youths, with a fresh complexion, whose long silky hair fell in curls over the shoulders. A wide riband which went twice round the waist confined their fine, white tunic--a light, graceful vestment, which descended in front to the knees, and behind hardly covered the hamstring.[XXXIII-22]

While the guests, softly reclining on their table-couches, were enjoying the agreeable surprise reserved for them by an amiable amphitryon, slaves (_sandaligeruli_) attended to their sandals, and fastened them on at the moment of departure.[XXXIII-23] Others, (_flabellarii_) armed with fans of peacocks’ feathers,[XXXIII-24] drove away the flies, and cooled the banqueting-hall.[XXXIII-25]

The banquet terminated, servants with torches and lanterns (_adversitores_) conducted their masters home, and pointed out to them the stones that might be lying in their path, and which repeated libations might have prevented their visual organs from discovering.[XXXIII-26]

We must not omit, in this nomenclature of the principal servants of a good house, the taster (_prægustator_), who tasted or tried the viands before the guests touched them;[XXXIII-27] nor the chief steward (_triclinarches_), and director of the repast, who had to occupy himself with an infinity of details in the kitchen, the cellar, the pantry, the buffet, and the dining-room.[XXXIII-28]

A living synthesis of these multiplied services, he performed them all himself. The least negligence, the slightest absence of mind on his part, would have ruined the reputation, utterly marred the sumptuous hospitality, of his master.

Never did the general of an army tremble under the weight of a responsibility so redoubtable.

_Procillatores_, or cup-bearer, an officer whose duty was to fill and present the cup to the king and princes. This charge was known in Egypt, and the ancients transformed Ganymede into a cup-bearer to the gods.

Charlemagne had master cup-bearers. These officers signed royal charters, and kept rank amongst the great officers of state. The head one took the title of _Echanson_ to the king, of master, premier, or great _échanson_. In the 15th century the _échansons_ exercised their functions only on the coronations, marriages, and entries of kings and queens. Louis XVIII. re-established the office of _premier échanson_. It was abolished in 1830.

There was, moreover, a class of miserable, obscure, despised slaves, whose useful labours rendered them necessary, and who were treated much the same as beasts of burden. This order of subaltern servants were composed of:--

The _lecticarii_. They carried the elegant palanquin in which the haughty matron or the noble senator were conveyed to the banqueting-hall.[XXXIII-29]

The stokers (_focarii_), who cut the wood, lighted, and attended to the fires.[XXXIII-30]

The sweepers (_scoparii_), whose indefatigable activity kept the apartments and furniture clean.[XXXIII-31]

DESCRIPTION OF PLATE No. XXVIII.

No. 1. Procillatores, or _Echanson_, from a painting at Herculaneum.

No. 2. Triclinium, from a sculpture at Pompeii.

The washers (_peniculi_). With a sponge and a cloth they cleaned the precious tables which adorned the _cœnaculum_, or dining-room. Sometimes, also, they had to lay the covers.[XXXIII-32]

This rapid sketch will enable the reader to form a sufficiently correct idea of the comfort and luxury which prevailed among the Romans, and of which the Greeks set them the example. It is hardly necessary to remark that the cup-bearers, stewards, carvers, and other household officers, whose names belong to modern Europe, perform functions analogous to those which similar servants performed formerly in Italy. But these last were debased by the stigma of slavery, and degraded by long habit, whilst the others were citizens.

XXXIV.

THE GUESTS.

The Jews and the Egyptians washed the feet of the persons whom they received into their houses, and offered them larger portions as a mark of greater honour.[XXXIV-1] These homely and hospitable usages have disappeared with the simplicity of the primitive ages.

The Greeks required their guests to arrive neither too soon nor too late. It was a rule of politeness from which nothing could exempt them,[XXXIV-2] and which we ourselves observe at this day.

In the Homeric ages each one received his share of meat and wine,[XXXIV-3] and the man who at that epoch piqued himself on his knowledge of the science of life, never failed to offer his neighbour a part of his dinner. So Ulysses gives Demodochus one-half of the “chine of beef” with which he is served.[XXXIV-4] It is true that the King of Ithaca was regarded as a perfect model of complaisance and delicacy.

Another custom (adopted it is said only in the modern taverns and dining-rooms) was that of warming the remains of a preceding banquet for other guests.[XXXIV-5] It must have constituted very poor fare, for the Greeks were remarkable for a formidable appetite, and their repasts were prolonged indefinitely. The banquet of Menelaus, noticed by Athenæus, is a proof of it. They eat at first without speaking, and after prodigies of mastication they began to discourse. Then, having washed their hands, face, and beard, a fresh attack was commenced, more formidable than the first; and when the ardour and energy of the assailants seemed to be exhausted, they hardly took time to breathe ere they fell on the viands with renewed avidity. Nothing resisted them; the dishes were cleared; only a few bones remained to certify their achievement.[XXXIV-6] A saddening, unsatisfactory trophy for future guests.

Archestrates, whose gastronomic axioms we cannot respect too much, was averse to large dinner parties. Three or four persons--five at most--chosen with care, assembled with taste, appeared to him sufficient[XXXIV-7] for those solemnities in which silence was to be maintained so long, under pain, said Montmaur, of no longer knowing what one eats.

The Lacedæmonians admitted as many as fifteen guests, but they elected a king of the banquet, and that ephemeral autocrat decided without appeal all questions which might have compromised the tranquillity of the banquet.[XXXIV-8]

Greater numbers met together in Athens. Plato gave a supper to twenty-eight of his friends.[XXXIV-9] Hundreds of citizens often met together at the public repasts; but then a magistrate was deputed to see that modesty, moderation, and temperance were observed.[XXXIV-10]

The Romans understood that it is at table that one lives; so they gave those whom they invited the name of _conviva_ (_cum vivere_, living conjointly), a charming type of that easy, gentle cordiality which arises, is fortified, and displayed between those who partake of the same dishes, drain in friendship cups of the same wine, and separate with the hope of soon seeing a return of the same pleasures.

People were very polite in Rome, as in Greece, when they met in the dining-room. Never did they fail to make a low bow.[XXXIV-11] This act of Roman courtesy recalls a very pretty expression of Fontenelle’s, which we cannot refrain from citing. This grand nephew of the great Corneille passed, on his way to the table, before Madame Helvétius, whom he had not perceived. Fontenelle was then ninety years of age. “See,” said she, “what esteem I must have for your gallantry: you pass before me without looking at me.” “Be not surprised, Madam,” replied the old gallant; “if I had looked at you I should never have passed.”

In the year of Rome 570 (182 B.C.), the tribune of the people, C. Orchius, was the prime mover of the first sumptuary law, which enacted that the number of guests were not to exceed that of the Muses, nor be less than that of the Graces.[XXXIV-12] Subsequently seven were thought to be sufficient, and some insisted that when there were more the banquet ought rather to be called a rout.[XXXIV-13]

In the year of Rome 548, the Consul C. Fannius carried a law (_Lex Fannia_) which prohibited the assembling of more than three persons of the same family on ordinary days, or more than five at the nones, or on festival days.[XXXIV-14] This rigorous measure was pressingly solicited by the rational portion of every order of citizens, who could not witness without a shudder the whole of Italy plunge into the most brutifying excesses, after obscene orgies which we dare not describe.[XXXIV-15]

But who could dissipate that fearful bewilderment with which nations seem to be seized when they are about to fall? Rome blushed for her ancient virtues, and veiled them with dissolution and crimes. She had exhausted all the prodigies that the genius of debauchery could invent--she created monsters!

Ruinous banquets soon revived, and the number of guests had no other rule than the unbridled desire of ostentation and expense.

Let us not forget those miserable parasites who managed to get to the corner of a table in Greece and Italy, and to whom meagre portions were conceded as a reward for cringing servility, such as the vilest slave would have been ashamed to exhibit. There were three kinds of parasites. Some, under the name of buffoons, amused the company with their grotesque attitudes and ridiculous sayings.[XXXIV-16] Others allowed their ears to be boxed, and suffered a thousand different torments, provided a piece of meat or a bone were afterwards thrown to them. These patient sufferers[XXXIV-17] diverted the Greeks and Romans very much. The adulatory parasites were the most skilful of these hungry parias. They were well treated and almost respected. They were persons who possessed a kind of merit which was always equally appreciated, and to which we still render justice--they flattered whosoever gave them a supper.[XXXIV-18]

An energetic, familiar expression in French often replaces the word _parasite_, transmitted to us by the Greeks and Romans: that expression, which conveys the same idea, is _pique-assiette_, an image necessarily associated with disdain and insult.

The Count de Gerval had invited to his table several persons of high distinction, among whom was remarked one of those intruders who find means to get themselves received, notwithstanding the profound contempt they inspire. The dessert was just served, and a magnificent pear attracted the attention of the parasite, who endeavoured to bear it off on the point of his knife, but, in so doing, he broke a valuable plate. “The deuce take it, sir,” said the master of the house; “_piquez l’assiette_ as long as you like, but don’t break it!”

The guests always washed their hands, and frequently their feet, before they placed themselves on the triclinium.[B][XXXIV-19] They received that custom from the orientals, and we find numerous examples of it in the Old and New Testaments.[XXXIV-20] Perfumes were then poured on their heads,[XXXIV-21] as among the Jews,[XXXIV-22] and wreaths of flowers were offered them.[XXXIV-23]

It was at this solemn moment that the guests turned their attention to the election of the king of the banquet, whose grave functions consisted in regulating the number of cups that each one was expected to empty during the repast.[XXXIV-24]

Among the Anglo-Saxons, he who wished to drink asked the nearest person to pledge him. The latter replied affirmatively, and immediately armed himself with his knife or his sword to protect the other while he emptied his cup. The death of Edward the Martyr, it is said, gave rise to this custom. Elfrida, his mother-in-law, caused him to be basely assassinated from behind whilst he was drinking.[XXXIV-25]

“The following,” says Strutt, “according to ancient historians, is the manner in which Rowena, daughter or niece of Hengist, drank to the health of Vortigern, King of the Britons. She entered the banqueting-hall where the prince was with his guests, and, making a low curtsey, she said: ‘To your health, my lord and king.’ Then, having put the cup to her lips, she presented it on her knees to Vortigern, who took it and emptied it, after having replied: ‘I drink to your health.’ ”[XXXIV-26]

We find in the works of Pasquier an affecting anecdote of the unfortunate Queen of Scotland, Mary Stuart: “On the eve of her death,” says he, “towards the end of the supper, she drank to all her attendants, commanding them to pledge her; the which obeying, and mingling their tears with their wine, they drank to their mistress.”

Divers spectacles, of which we shall have occasion to speak hereafter, occupied the leisure of the guests during the interval necessary to remove the remains of one course and serve the next. These representations and amusements, of which they never tired in the middle ages, received from our ancestors, in France, the name of _entre-mets_; a designation much more true and just than the modern acceptation imposed on the word--anything served between the roast and the dessert.

The _entre-mets_ were interludes, pantomimes, concerts, and even melodramas performed between each course. So that a piece which in our days attracts crowds to one or other of the theatres, would have been then a little _entre-met_, or a cold side-dish (_hors-d’œuvre_).