ADDITIONAL DRINKS.
Jewish Prayers respecting various Drinks—Women’s Tears—Dew—Oil—Sea Water—Blood—Vegetable Water—Ganges Water—Vinegar—Ptisana—Toast Water—Bragget—Ballston Water—Warm Water—Asses’ Milk—Ghee—Milk Beer—Kumyss—Syra—Lamb Wine—Rice Wine—Garapa—Fenkål—Brandy and Port—Methylated Spirit.
In the Jewish prayers there is an especial, exclusive and extensive blessing upon wine, which runs in the following wise:—
“Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, universal King, for the vine, and for the fruit of the vine, and for the produce of the field, and for the land of delight and goodness and amplitude which Thou hast been pleased to give as an inheritance to thy people Israel, to eat of its fruit, and to be satisfied with its goodness.” Then follow petitions for the divine mercy upon those who say the blessing, upon Israel, God’s people, and upon God’s city, Jerusalem, and upon Zion, the dwelling-place of His glory, and upon His altar, and upon His temple.
The blessing concludes with a prayer for speedy transportation into the holy city: “Bring us up into the midst thereof eftsoons, even in these present days, that we may bless Thee in purity and holiness. For Thou art good, and the Giver of good to all. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, for the land and for the fruit of the vine.”
This beautiful prayer,[155] of which only the roughest sketch has been given here, has been said by pious Hebrews at every meal in which wine has been drunk from time immemorial. But upon wine alone has this honour been conferred. Those who drink Shecar, or water, or any other beverage except wine, say before their draught thus much only: “Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, universal King, by whose word all things were made;” and after it, “Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, universal King, the Creator of many souls, and their needs, for all which Thou hast created, to keep alive the soul of every living thing. Blessed art Thou who livest everlastingly.”
But these two prayers have no especial and necessary relation to drinks. They are also used where aught is eaten which has not grown originally and directly out of the earth, as, for example, the flesh of some beasts, and birds, and fishes, and cheese, milk, butter, and honey.
In the present work particular attention has been given, in the case of alcoholic drinks, to wines, spirits, liqueurs, and beers, and in the case of non-alcoholic, to mineral waters, tea, coffee, and other beverages usually considered non-intoxicant; but under both these widely extended categories a large number of drinks must enter of which no mention whatever has been made in the preceding pages. It remains for us, therefore, to consider in the present chapter the most interesting and important of these drinks which have been hitherto excluded. Of the curious and, in many cases, repulsive liquids which have from time to time been taken, either to assuage the pangs of human thirst, or to gratify the taste of the human palate in health or in disease, the reader who has not devoted some little time and attention to the investigation of this subject will probably have but a very faint conception. To go no farther back on the pathway of time than to the age of John Taylor, the water poet, we find so strange a drink as women’s tears.
But at a date far earlier than that of the water poet, the date of the Babylonian Talmud, in Machshirin, vi. 64, there are seven liquids comprehended under the generic term drink (Lev. xi. 34, and therefore liable to ceremonial defilement), dew, water, wine, oil, blood, milk, and honey. Upon every one of these seven liquids something curious and interesting might be written.
About these drinks a question arises in the Talmud, whether under water are included such beverages as mulberry water, pomegranate water, and other waters of fruits which have a shem livoui, or compound name. Rambam the great Eagle, more commonly known as Maimonides, seems to exclude these drinks from the general category. By honey is to be understood the honey of bees; the honey of hornets is not to be numbered in the list. In the Tosephoth of Shabbath it is asked, How do we know that blood is a drink? Because it is said (Num. xxiii. 24), And drink the blood of the slain. How do we know that wine is a drink? Because it is said (Deut. xxxii. 14), And thou didst drink the pure blood of the grape. How do we know that honey is a drink? Because it is said (Deut. xxxii. 13), But He made him to suck honey out of the rock. How do we know that oil is a drink? Because it is said (Isa. xxv. 6), A feast of fat things. How do we know that milk is a drink? Because it is said (Judges iv. 19), And she opened a bottle of milk and gave him drink. How do we know that dew is a drink? Because it is said (Judges vi. 38), And wringed the dew out of the fleece, a bowl full of water. There is a curious addition, reminding us of Taylor, the water poet. How do we know that the tears of the eye are a drink? Because it is said (Ps. lxxx. 5), And givest them tears to drink in great measure. How do we know that the water of the nose is a drink? Because—but the reader has had probably enough of the Rabbinical lucubrations.
A chapter of this book might, were not space a consideration, be devoted to water, which Thales[156] declared to be the first principle of things, and, according to Seneca,[157] valentissimum elementum. Iced, it was inveighed[158] against by the Stoic philosopher, as injurious to the stomach. The desire for it was said to proceed from a pampered appetite. Pliny[159] speaks of a wine made from sea water, but considers it, with Celsus, a bad stomachic. In later times sea water has been converted into fresh.
Bory de St. Vincent,[160] in his Essais sur les Isles Fortunées, an entertaining description of the archipelago of the Canaries, says that in Fer, one of the Canary Islands, a nearly total privation of running water was compensated by an extraordinary tree. Bacon (Nov. Scient. Org., 412), the Father Taillandier (Lettr. Edit., vii., 280), Corneille (Grand Dict., under Fer) may be consulted about this tree, called the holy one. Gonzalez d’Oviedo (ii., 9) says it distils water through its trunk, branches, and leaves, which resemble so many fountains. The “exaggerator Jakson,” says Bory de St. Vincent, being at Fer in 1618, saw this tree dried up during the day, but at night yielding enough water to supply the thirst of 8,000 inhabitants and 100,000 other animals. According to this authority, it was distributed from time immemorial all over the island by pipes of lead. It is nothing to “Jakson” that lead was not known from time immemorial. Viana (Cant., i.) speaks of the sacred tree as a sort of celestial pump.[161] Another author says the holy tree was called Garoe, and that its fruit resembled an acorn, that its leaves were evergreen, and like those of a laurel. During an east wind the water harvest was the most abundant.
This celebrated vegetable product was unfortunately destroyed by a hurricane in 1625. But even about this date authors disagree. While Nunez de la Pena is an authority for that given, Nieremberg assures us the catastrophe occurred in 1629. Another date mentioned is 1612.
The view of Bory de St. Vincent is that this holy tree was nothing more than the Laurus Indica of Linnæus, which is indigenous to the mountain summits of the Canary Islands. His concluding remark is pregnant with common sense: Si les auteurs que nous ont parlé du Garoé ont dit qu’il était seul de son espèce dans l’île, c’est qu’ils n’étaient pas botanistes, et qu’ils n’avaient pas réfléchi que cet arbre ayant un fruit, devait se reproduire, comme tous les autres végétaux.
The water of rivers is often clarified in a peculiar manner before drinking. For instance, that of the Ganges is said to be improved by rubbing certain nuts on the edges of the vessel in which it is kept,[162] though how this may be it is as difficult to understand, as how the turtle is affected by a touch of his carapace, or the Dean and Chapter—to borrow Sydney Smith’s illustration—of St. Paul’s by stroking the cupola of that cathedral. The Nile water is also said to be purified by treating the vessel which holds it in a similar manner to that which holds the water of the Ganges, with bitter almonds. The bitter waters of Marah were made sweet in a far different fashion.
The Melo-cacti of South America have earned for themselves the name of “springs of the desert,” owing to their liquor-preserving properties. An ingenious drink is that of the natives of Siberia, a drink prepared of an intoxicating mushroom,[163] in a peculiar and economical manner, by natural distillation.
Vinegar appears as a beverage in a few countries only, and then for special purposes. The Roman soldiers received it as a refreshing drink on their marches, and even in the time of Constantine their rations included vinegar on one day and wine on the other. After all, this vinegar may have been nothing more than what many of us drink at present under the title of wine. That “excellent claret,” for instance, “fit for any gentleman’s table,” which may be had at 1s. 6d. a bottle, may be very like the vinegar of the Roman soldier. Roman reapers used it mixed with water, we are told by Theocritus (Idyl x.), and before that time Ruth was directed to dip her morsel in the vinegar when she gleaned in the field of Boaz.
Ptisana, mentioned by Celsus (iii., 7), appears to have been a mixture of rice or barley water and vinegar.
Toast-water is a drink which may be held by some unworthy of mention, but they may change their minds after reading what Mr. James Sedgwick, apothecary at Stratford-le-Bow, had to say on this subject in the year 1725. The burning of a crust and putting it hissing hot into water has, according to this gentleman, several good advantages. By it, the “raw coldness from nitrous particles are (sic) taken off and moderated, and it becomes more palatable, besides which, from the sudden hissing opposition of temperament, an elevation is made of the heterogeal particles, a motion, an interchanging position is obtained: These Principles during their intercourses will be imbibed and sucked into the bread in order, according to their respective distance and gravities, whereby the liquor will become more pure and almost uncompounded, less foreign than it was under its natural acception.” And yet though all these securities are taken to blunt the “frigorific mischiefs” of the water in general, yet in many constitutions and at particular seasons it is not to be trusted without some “substantial warmth to give and maintain a glowing, e’er it dilutes and disperses.” He goes on to say that it is better to add wine to the water, “to prevent the contingent hazards from the limpid element.”
Braket or Bragget or Bragwort, was a drink made of the wort of ale, honey, and spices.[164] Her mouth, says Chaucer, speaking of Alison, the carpenter’s pretty wife in the Mother’s Tale,
“was swete as braket or the meth,
Or hord of apples, laid in hay or heth.”
And in Beaumont and Fletcher’s Little Thief, or the Night-Walker, Jack Wildbrain speaks with contempt of
“One that knows not neck-beef from a pheasant,
Nor cannot relish braggat from ambrosia.”
The opponents of alcoholic drinks are often met by the objection that some of the drinks recommended by themselves are alcoholic, as indeed they often are. Even water appears to possess, in some cases, an intoxicating property. Pliny (Nat. Hist., ii., cvi.) speaks of a Lyncestis aqua,[165] of a certain acidity, which makes men drunken. The celebrated Ballston waters in the State of New York, are said to be affected with qualities “highly exhilarating,” sometimes producing vertigo, which has been followed by drowsiness; in other words, they who drink them exhibit the usual symptoms of drunkenness.
Timothy Dwight, in his Travels in New England and New York, says that these waters are considered by the farmers of the neighbourhood as an excellent beverage, and are sent for from a considerable distance for drink to labourers during haymaking and harvesting, a time well known to be full of desire on the part of country people employed in these agricultural pursuits, for alcoholic refreshment. “They supersede,” says Dwight, “in a great measure the use of any ardent spirits.” But since the result of drinking these waters seems precisely the same, as far as regards inebriation, as that of drinking beer or other alcoholic liquor, it is questionable whether any advantage is gained by this supersession.
The properties of the Saratoga water, situated some seven miles from that of Ballston, are also of a very remarkable nature. They abound to such an extent in a species of gas, that we are told a very nice sort of breakfast bread is baked from them instead of yeast.
The Romans considered warm water an agreeable drink at the conclusion of the chief repast of the day. This may explain why Julius Cæsar was always taken ill after dinner.
Many drinks are derived from animals, either wholly as milk and blood, or from animals and vegetables in common, as oil.
It is said that there are people here in England who like—so strange is the diversity of tastes—a draught of oil from the liver of a cod as much as an Esquimaux approves of a draught of the oil of a porpoise or a seal.
Of milk a large catalogue of drinks can be reckoned. First, there are the different kinds of milk of different animals, as the milk of asses, of women, of goats, of cows, of sheep, of reindeer, of camels, of sows, and of mares. Then it may be swallowed as it is drawn, or in the form of whey, or curdled. Ghee[166] is a common favourite throughout all India. It is a stale butter clarified by boiling and straining, and then set to cool, when it remains in a semi-liquid or oily state, and is used in cooking, or is drunk by the natives.
In milk-beer, milk is substituted for water. Kef is a kind of effervescing fermented milk, much resembling Koumiss (or rather Kumyss), of which the best is probably to be obtained in Samàra. Youourt[167] is a favourite drink at Constantinople, made of milk curdled after a peculiar fashion. Syra, a form allied with the German Säure, is a sour whey, used for drink like small beer in Norway and Iceland. Aizen and Leban are both sorts of Kumyss, one of the Tartars, the other of the Arabs. The latter have also an intoxicating liquor Sabzi, made of Bhang, a species of hemp. The green leaf from which the drink derives its name is pounded and diluted with sugared water.
Even the warm blood of living animals has been considered suitable for a drink. In the book of Ser Marco Polo the Venetian, concerning the marvels of the East, we are told, the Tartar will sustain himself in an economical manner, by opening a vein in the neck of the horse upon which he rides, and having taken a sufficient drink will close the aperture, and ride on as before. Carpini says much the same of the Mongols. This appears indeed to have been a time-honoured institution.
Dionysius Periegetes, in the nineteenth chapter of his Description of the World, treating of Scythia and other ancient nations situated in what is now known as Great Tartary, says of the Massagetæ that they have no eating of bread nor any native wine, but
ἵππων
Αἵματι μίσγοντες λευκὸν γάλα δαῖτα τίθεντο.
“Or with horses blood,
And white milk mingled set their banquets forth,”
Orbis Desc., 578.
And Sidonius, to the same effect,
“solitosque cruentum
Lac potare Getas, et pocula tingere venas.”
Parag. ad Avitum.
Another strange variety of drink is made by the Peruvians. The ordinary chica is mixed with the bloody garments of a slain warrior. Temple (Travels, ii., 311).
According to Lobo, the Abyssinians esteem the gall one of the most delicious parts of a beast, and drink glasses of it, as epicures with us drink Château Lafitte. Pearce (Adventures in Abyssinia, i., 95) says that they also drink blood warm from the animal with an extraordinary relish.
The Mantchoos, the conquerors of China, prepare a wine of a peculiar mixture from the flesh of lambs, either by fermenting it reduced to a kind of paste with the milk of their domestic animals, or by bruising it to a pulp with rice. When properly matured, it is put into jars and drawn as occasion requires. It is said to be strong and nutritious, and the most voluptuous orgies of the Tartars are the result of an intoxication from lamb wine. Abbé Rickard, History of Tonquin.
The only wine in Sumatra, according to Marco Polo, was derived from a certain tree, the sacred wine-tree as it might be called, in comparison with the sacred water-tree, afterwards known as Areng Saccharifera, from the Javanese name, called by the Malays Gomuti and by the Portuguese Saguer. It has some resemblance to a date palm, to which Polo compares it, but is much coarser and more ragged, incompta et adspectu tristis, dishevelled and of a melancholy aspect, as it is described by Rumphius. A branch of this tree was cut, a large pot attached, and in a day and a night the pot was filled with excellent wine, both white and red, which, says the Venetian, cures dropsy and tisick and spleen.
The Chinese Rice Wine and its manufacture is described in Amyot’s Memoires, v., 468. A yeast is employed, with which is often mixed a flour prepared from fragrant herbs, almonds, pine seeds, dried fruits, etc. Rubruquis says the liquor is not distinguishable, except by smell, from the best wine of Auxerre, a wine so famous in the middle ages that the historian friar Salimbene went to that town for the express purpose of drinking it. Ysbrand Ides compares it to Rhenish, John Bell to Canary, and a modern traveller, quoted by Davis, “in colour and a little in taste to Madeira.” Marco Polo says, “it is a very hot stuff,” making one drunk sooner than any other beverage.
From the walnut, which is cultivated to great extent in the Crimea, a sweet clear liquor is extracted in the spring, at the time the sap is rising in the tree. The trunk of the walnut is pierced and a spigot placed in the incision. The fluid obtained soon coagulates into a substance used as sugar. It does not, however, appear that the juice has been converted to any inebriating purpose. Not only, however, from the walnut can a good drink be extracted, but also from the birch, the willow, the poplar and the sycamore.
A sort of birch wine is made in Normandy.
An excellent drink, resembling brandy, has been distilled, it is said, from water melons in the southern provinces of Russia, where consequently much attention is paid to the culture of this vegetable, producing in some cases water melons of thirty pounds in weight.
In the Sandwich Islands a drink is distilled from the root of the Dracæna, something like the beet of this country. The root of the Dracæna gives a saccharine juice resembling molasses. From this, with the addition of some ginger, a kind of tea is made, also a spirit called by the natives Ywera. Their manufacture of this drink is remarkable for its complexity, involving certain mystic operations with an old pot, a leaky canoe, a calabash, and a rusty gun-barrel. It is unnecessary to give a detailed account of the process. We yearn in vain for that absence of entanglement which distinguishes the religion of the Iroquois, who have no other worship than the annual sacrifice of a dog to Taulonghyaawangooa, which being interpreted is the “supporter of the Heavens.” At this sacrifice they eat the dog.
Sbitena, or Sbetin, is the name of a delightful drink sold in the streets of St. Petersburg to the populace. In Granville’s St. Petersburg (ii., 422) a mention is made of this beverage. It is composed of honey and hot water and pepper and boiling milk.
A drink called Omeire is prepared in the South-West of Africa by the aid of some dirty gourds and milk vigorously shaken therein at stated intervals.
In Nubia the crumb of strongly leavened bread made from dhurra is mixed with water and set on the fire. It is afterwards allowed to ferment for two days, strained through a cloth, a lady’s garment by choice, and drunk. It is called Ombulbul, or the mother of the nightingale, because it makes the drinker sing like that bird. Pulque is a vinous beverage made in Mexico by fermenting the juice of the agave. Its distinctive peculiarity is its odour, which has been compared by an experimentalist to that of putrid meat.
There are four drinks in Madagascar: Toak, made from honey and water; Araffer, from a tree called Sater, resembling a small cocoa-nut; Toupare, from boiled cane, a liquid so corrosive as in a short time to penetrate an egg shell; and Vontaca, from the juice of the so-called Bengal quince. The last soon produces intoxication, against which another curious drink is mentioned as a remedy by Ovalle, to wit, the sweat of a horse infused in wine.
The aborigines of Australia (Dawson’s Present State of Australia, p. 60) are inordinately fond of a beverage known by them under the name of bull. The recipe for this, as given by Mr. Dawson, runs thus: Get an old sugar bag, steal it if you cannot get it by any other means, and cut it into small pieces. Prepare a large kettle of boiling water, throw into it as many of these pieces of bag as it will hold, and let it simmer for half a day. An excellent bull will be the result. This bull, says Dawson, they are extremely fond of, and will drink it till they are blown out like an ox with clover, and can contain no more.
Poncet speaks of booza as the usual liquor of the Abyssinians, “vastly thick and very ill tasted,” produced from a day’s soaking of a roasted berry.
The negroes of Brazil affect a mixture of black sugar and water without fermentation, called Garapa, to which heat is sometimes added by the leaves of the Acajou tree.
Snow melted and impregnated with the flavour of smoke from the fire upon which it is placed is the common drink of the Lapp. Occasionally he gets a decoction of the herb angelica in milk. The maritime Lapp drinks with gusto the oil squeezed from the entrails of fish. Women, it is said, will take a pint and a half of this so-called tran at a meal. But the favourite drink is composed of water and meal flavoured with a quantity of tallow, and, if circumstances will permit, the blood of the reindeer.
Taidge or Tedge or Tedj is a kind of honey wine or hydromel, said by Father Poncet[168] to be a delicious liquor, pure, clarified, and of the colour of Spanish white wine. The process of its manufacture is simple. Wild honey is mixed with water, and set in a jar, with a little sprouted barley, some biccalo or taddoo bark, and a few geso or guécho leaves. A superior kind is made by adding kuloh berries. This is called barilla. The taste of tedj has been described as that of small beer and musty lemonade. The women commonly strain it through their shifts.
Besdon is made like tedj, with honey, and is highly valued in some parts of Africa. Ladakh beer has the merit of portability. It is made of parched barley, rice, and the root of an aromatic plant, and pressed into a cake. A piece of this is broken off and cast into water. It resembles in taste sour gruel.
Pombe is a liquid brewed of fruit, furnishing a common sort of cider known well in Eastern Africa.
In Tonquin[169] on the annual renewal of allegiance, they drink chicken’s blood mixed with arrack. They make a sort of cider from miengou, a fruit like a pomegranate. An extract of wheat, rye, or millet is mixed with peka, consisting of rice flour, garlic, aniseed, and liquorice. After fermentation it is distilled and becomes the celebrated Samchou.
In Sweden, with the smör-gås, or fore taste[170] at a side-table a glass of fenkål, sometimes very good, sometimes very bad, is given to him who is about to dine. It is made from fennel—a form perhaps of fœniculum—growing wild and abundant, as at Marathon[171] the celebrated deme on the east coast of Attica, the field of the famous battle.
In addition to strange compounds known in various parts of this country, such as Gin and Lime Juice, Whiskey or Rum and Milk, Brandy and Port, a drink said to have originated in Lancashire, Dog’s Nose, Shandy Gaff, etc., etc., may be mentioned Ethyl or Methylated Spirits, a beverage which, like ether in Ireland, has of late years advanced considerably in public estimation. It has the two advantages of being cheap and heady. An Act of 1880 imposed penalties on any retail tradesman selling it for the purpose of drink. A better method perhaps to prevent its being poured down the throats of Her Majesty’s liege subjects would be to take steps to ensure its being mixed before sold with a strong emetic. The palate can be trained, but the stomach is far less docile.
