BRANDY.
The Invention of Brandy—Early Alchemists—Aqua Vitæ—Distillation—The Still-room—Ladies Drinking—Nantes and Charente—Johnson’s Idea of Brandy—The Charente District—Manufacture of Brandy—The Cognac Firms.
Who invented Brandy? is a question that cannot be authoritatively answered offhand; but the good people of some parts of Germany hold that it was the Devil. And their legend is, at all events, circumstantial.
Every one who is at all acquainted with old legends is fully aware that the Father of Evil is extremely simple, and has allowed himself, many times, to be outwitted by man. Once, especially, he was so guileless as to put trust in a Steinbach man, who cajoled him into entering an old beech tree, and there he was imprisoned until the tree was cut down. His first step, on regaining his freedom, was to revisit his own particular dominion, which, to his horror, he found empty!
This, naturally, would not do, and he set about re-peopling hell without delay. He thought the quickest plan would be to start a distillery; so he hurried off at once to Nordhausen, where his manufacture of Brandy (his own invention) became so famous that people from all parts came to him to learn the new art, and to become distillers. From that time his Satanic Majesty has never had to complain of paucity of subjects.
It seems fairly established that the famous chemist Geber, who lived in the 7th or 8th century, was acquainted with distillation, and we know that it was practised by the Arabian and Saracenic alchemists, but have no knowledge whether they made any practical use of the alcohol they produced. They, at all events, gave us the word by which we now know the spirit, or ethereal part, of wine.
Alcohol, distilled from wine, is first reliably mentioned by a celebrated French alchemist and physician, Arnaud de Villeneuve, who died in 1313, who gave it the name of aqua vitæ, or water of life,[51] and regarded it as a valuable adjunct in physic, and as a boon to humanity. Raymond Lully, the famous alchemist, who is said to have been his pupil, declared it to be “an emanation from the Deity,” and on its introduction it was supposed to be the elixir of life, capable of rejuvenating those who partook of it, and, as such, was only purchasable at an extremely high price.
We may see, by a book[52] written 200 years after the death of Arnaud de Villeneuve, the esteem in which Aqua Vitæ was held even after so great a lapse of time.
Aqua Vite is comonly called the mastresse of al medycynes, for it easeth the dysseases comynge of colde. It gyveth also yonge corage in a person, and cawseth hym to have a good memorye and remembraunce. It puryfyeth the fyve wittes of melancolye and of unclenes whan it is dronke by reason and measure. That is to understande fyve or syx droppes in the mornynge lastyng with a sponefull of wyne, usynge the same in the maner aforsayde the evyl humours can not hurte the body, for it withdryveth them oute of the vaynes.
¶ It conforteth the harte, and causeth a body to be mery.
¶ It heleth all olde and newe sores on the hede comynge of colde, whan the hede is enoynted therwyth and a lytell of the same water holden in the mouthe, and dronke of the same.
¶ It causeth a good colour in a parson whan it is dronke and the hede enoynted therwyth the space of xx dayes; it heleth Alopicia, or whan it is dronke lastyng with a lytell tryacle. It causeth the here well to growe, and kylleth the lyce and flees.
¶ It cureth the Reuma of the hede, whan the temples and the fore hede therwith be rubbed.
¶ It cureth Litargiam,[53] and all yll humours of the hede.
¶ It heleth the coloure in the face, and all maner of pymples. It heleth the fystule when it is put therein with the Juce of Celendyne.
¶ Cotton wet in the same and a lytell wronge out agayn and so put in the eares at nyght goynge to bedde, and a lytell dronke thereof, is good against all defnes.
¶ It easeth the payn in the teethe, when it is a longe tyme holden in the mouthe, it causeth a swete brethe, and theleth the rottyng tethe.
¶ It heleth the canker in the mouthe, in the teethe, in the lyppes, and in the tongue, whan it is longe time holden in the mouthe.
¶ It cawseth the hevy togue to become light and wel spekyng.
¶ It heleth the shorte brethe whan it is droke with water wheras the figes be soden in, and vanisheth al flemmes.
¶ It causeth good dygestynge and appetyte for to eat, and taketh away all bolkynge.[54]
¶ It dryveth the wyndes out of the body, and is good agaynst the evyll stomake.
¶ It easeth the fayntenes of the harte, the payn of the mylte, the yelowe Jandis, the dropsy, the yll lymmes, the goute, in the handes and in the fete, the payne in the brestes whan they be swollen, and heleth al diseases in the bladder, and breaketh the stone.
¶ It withdryveth venym that hath been taken in meat or in drynke, whā a lytell tryacle is put therto.
¶ It heleth the flanckes[55] and all dyseases coming of colde.
¶ It heleth the brennyng of the body, and of al membres whan it is rubbed therewith by the fyre viii dayes contynnynge.
¶ It is good to be dronke agaynst the sodeyn dede.
¶ It heleth all scabbes of the body, and all colde swellynges, enoynted or washed therwith, and also a lytell thereof dronke.
¶ It heleth all shronke sinewes, and causeth them to become softe and right.
¶ It heleth the febres tertiana and quartana, when it is dronke an houre before, or the febres becometh on a body.
¶ It heleth the venymous bytes, and also of a madde dogge, whan they be wasshed therwith.
¶ It heleth all stynkyng woundes whan they be wasshed therwith.”
From use in medicine, Aqua Vitæ soon came into domestic use, and here is given one of Iherom Bruynswyke’s “Styllatoryes,” which he says was the “comon fornays” which was “well beknowen amonge the potters, made of erthe leded or glased, and it may be removed from the one place to the other.”
It was in a still of this sort that the old housewives of the sixteenth and succeeding centuries used to concoct their strong and cordial waters—a practice which has given, and left to, our own times, the name of “Still-room,” as the housekeeper’s own particular domain. They experimented on almost every herb that grew, and some of their concoctions must have been exceedingly nasty. Yet some of their recipes read as if they were comforting, and they were not deficient in variety.
Heywood, in his Philocothonista, or The Drunkard, Opened, Dissected, and Anatomized, 1635, p. 48, mentions some of them. “To add to these chiefe and multiplicitie of wines before named, yet there be Stills and Limbecks going, swetting out Aqua Vitæ and strong waters deriving their names from Cynamon, Lemmons, Balme, Angelica, Aniseed, Stomach Water, Hunni, etc. And to fill up the number, we have plenty of Vsque-ba’ha.”
The old housewives’ books of the latter end of the sixteenth century, until much later, are still in existence, and from them we may learn many drinks of our forefathers, how to make Ipocras (very good, especially when taken in a “Loving Cup”), to clarify Whey, to make Buttered Beer, Sirrop of Roses or Violets, Rosa Solis, a Caudle for an old Man, or to distil Spirits of Spices, Spirits of Wine tasting of what Vegetable you please, Balme Water, Rosemary Water, Sinamon Water, Aqua Rubea, Spirits of Hony, Rose Water, Vinegar, very many scents, and a distillation called Aqua Composita, which entered into many receipts. There are many formulæ for this, but Bruynswyke gives the following:—
“AQUA VITE COMPOSITA.
“The same water is made some time of wyne with spyces onely, sometyme with wyne and rotes of the herbes, sometyme with the herbes, some tyme with the rotes and herbes togyder, for at all tymes thereto must be stronge wyne.
“Take a gallon of strong Gascoigne wine, and Sage, Mints, Red Roses, Time, Pellitorie, Rosemarie, Wild Thime, Camomil, Lavender, of eche an handfull. These herbes shal be stamped all togyder in a Morter, and then putte it in a clene vessell and do herto a pynte of Rose Water, and a quart of romney,[56] and then stoppe it close and let it stand so iii or iiii dayes. Whan ye have so done, put all this togyder in a styllatory and dystyll water of the same; than take your dystylled water, and pore it upon the herbes agayne into the styllatory, and strewe upon it these powders followynge.
¶ Fyrst cloves and cynamon, of eche an halfe ounce, Oryous[57] an ounce, and a few Maces, nutmeggs halfe an ounce, a lytell saffran, muscus, spica nardi, ambre, and some put campher in it, bycawse the materyals be so hote. Stere[58] all the same well togyder and dystylle it clene of, tyll it come fat lyke oyle, than set awaye your water, and let it be wel kepte. After that make a stronge fyre, and dystyll oyle of it, and receyve it in a fyole,[59] this oyle smelleth above all oyles, and he that letteth one droppe fall on his hande, it will perce through. It is wonderfull good, excellynge many other soveraygne oyles to dyvers dysseases.”
Although the Still-room was serviceable for medicinal purposes, yet, as we have seen, there were many comforting drinks made, including Vsquebath, or Irish aqua vitæ (a recipe for which we will give in its proper place), and doubtless this contributed much towards the tippling habit of some ladies in the 17th and 18th centuries. We hear somewhat of this in the reign of good Queen Anne (who, by the bye, was irreverently termed “Brandy-faced Nan”), when they used to make, and drink, Ratifia of Apricocks, Fenouillette of Rhé, Millefleurs, Orangiat, Burgamot, Pesicot, and Citron Water, etc., etc., numerous allusions to which are made in the pages of “The Spectator,” and other literature of the times. Edward Ward, who had no objection to call a spade, a spade, thus plainly speaks out.[60]
“It would make a Man smile to behold her Figure in a front Box, where her twinkling Eyes, by her Afternoon’s Drams of Ratifee and cold Tea, sparkle more than her Pendants.... Her closet is always as well stor’d with Juleps, Restoratives, and Strong Waters, as an Apothecary’s Shop, or a Distiller’s Laboratory; and is, herself, so notable a Housewife in the Art of preparing them, that she has a larger Collection of Chemical Receipts than a Dutch Mountebank.... As soon as she rises, she must have a Salutary Dram to keep her Stomach from the Cholick; a Whet before she eats, to procure Appetite; after eating, a plentiful Dose for Concoction; and to be sure a Bottle of Brandy under her Bed side for fear of fainting in the Night.”
There is no necessity to multiply instances of the feminine liking for brandy, for everyone finds numerous examples in his reading, from Juliet’s nurse,[61] who, after Tybalt’s death, says, “Give me some aqua vitæ,” to old Lady Clermont, of whom Grantley Berkeley tells the following story[62]:—
“Prominent among my earliest Brighton reminiscences are those of old Lady Clermont, who was a frequent guest at the Pavilion. Her physician had recommended a moderate use of stimulants, to supply that energy which was deficient in her system, and brandy had been suggested in a prescribed quantity, to be mixed with her tea. I remember well having my curiosity excited by this, to me, novel form of taking medicine, and holding on by the back of a chair to watch the modus operandi. Very much to my astonishment, the patient held a liqueur bottle over a cup of tea, and began to pour out its contents, with a peculiar purblind look, upon the back of a teaspoon. Presently, she seemed suddenly to become aware of what she was about, turned up the spoon the right way, and carefully measured, and added the quantity to which she had been restricted. The Tea, so strongly ‘laced,’ she now drank with great apparent gusto.”
We derive our name of Brandy from the Dutch brand-wijn, or the German brannt-wein, that is, burnt or distilled wine; and in the 17th and 18th centuries it was generally spelt, and spoken of as brandy wine. But, also, in those centuries was it known by the name of “Nantz,” from the town (Nantes, the capital of the Loire Inferieure) whence it came. But this name was changed early last century, when the trade left Nantes, and got into the Charente district, of which Cognac was the centre; so what used to be “right good Nantz” of the old smuggling days, turned into the delicate, many-starred “Cognac” of our times.
It was an eminently respectable spirit. Whiskey was practically unknown out of Scotland and Ireland. Gin was the drink of the common people, and rum was considered only fit for sailors. Even Dr. Johnson, though so fond of his tea, was also fond of brandy, as Boswell chronicles of him, when in his 70th year: “On Wednesday, April 7, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Reynolds’s. Johnson harangued upon the qualities of different liquors; and spoke with great contempt of claret, as so weak, that ‘a man would be drowned by it, before it made him drunk.’ He was persuaded to drink one glass of it, that he might judge, not from recollection, which might be dim, but from immediate sensation. He shook his head, and said, ‘Poor stuff! No, sir, claret is the liquor for boys; port for men; but he who aspires to be a hero’ (smiling) ‘must drink brandy. In the first place the flavour of brandy is the most grateful to the palate, and then brandy will do soonest for a man what drinking can do for him. There are, indeed, few who are able to drink brandy. That is a power rather to be wished for than attained.’”
And two years later on he gives another illustration of the doctor’s liking for strong potations. “Mr. Eliot mentioned a curious liquor peculiar to his country, which the Cornish fishermen drink. They call it Mahogany; and it is made of two parts gin and one part treacle, well beaten together. I begged to have some of it made, which was done with proper skill by Mr. Eliot. I thought it very good liquor, and said it was a counterpart of what is called Athol porridge[63] in the Highlands of Scotland, which is a mixture of whiskey and honey. Johnson said ‘That must be a better liquor than the Cornish, for both its component parts are better.’ He also observed, ‘Mahogany must be a modern name; for it is not long since the wood called mahogany was known in this country. I mentioned his scale of liquors: Claret for boys—port for men—brandy for heroes. ‘Then,’ said Mr. Burke, ‘let me have claret; I love to be a boy; to have the careless gaiety of boyish days,’ Johnson: ‘I should drink claret too, if it would give me that; but it does not; it neither makes boys men, nor men boys. You’ll be drowned in it before it has any effect upon you.’”
But it was the spirit always drunk by gentlemen until well on in this century, as we see by Mr. Pickwick, whose constant resource in all cases of difficulty, was a glass of brandy. Pale brandy was not so much drank as brown, which is now only taken, when very old, as a liqueur, although a brown brandy of very dubious quality is to be met with in some country public houses. Brandy, like every other spirit, developes its ethers with age, gets mellower, and of exquisite flavour; and its popularity would undoubtedly be revived if the drinker were only sure he could get such brandy as the many starred brands of Hennessy and Martell, instead of that awful substitute so often given—British brandy, made of raw potato spirit.
The soil of the Charente slope is particularly adapted to the growth of the vine, although, as in all vine-growing countries some districts, and even small patches of land, produce finer wine than others. The grapes are white, not much larger than good-sized currants, and the vines seldom bear fruit until four or five years from their planting, and are most vigorous at the age of from ten to thirty. Many bear well up to fifty and seventy, and some are fruitful at one hundred years or more.
As a rule, the large firms do not distil the brandy they sell, but leave that operation to the small farmers round about, and then blend their products; as, to produce the quantity they sell, enormous distilling space would be necessary, wine only producing one-eighth or one-tenth of alcohol to its bulk. The farmer’s distillery is very primitive; merely a simple boiler with a head or receiver, and a worm surrounded with cold water. There are generally two of these stills at work, and when once the farmer commences making his brandy, he keeps on day and night, bivouacking near the stills, until he has converted all his wine into crude spirit, as colourless as water, which he carts off, just as it is, to the brandy factory for sale. There it is tasted, measured, and put into new casks of oak, hooped round with chestnut wood. These casks are branded with the date, together with the quality and place of growth of the wine from which the brandy was distilled, and they remain some time in stock before their contents are blended in the proportions which the firm deem suitable.
This new spirit is housed on a floor over large vats, which are filled from selected casks, the spirit being filtered through flannel discs on its way. This mixes the various growths pretty well, but the spirit is run into other vats, being forced through filters of a peculiar kind of paper, almost like paste-board. When it gets to the second series of vats, it is kept well stirred, to prevent the heavier spirit sinking to the bottom. It is then drawn off into casks, which are bunged up, and stored for several years that the brandy may mature, and that the fusel oil may develope into the ethyls, which give such flavour and fragrance to the brandy.
Perhaps the oldest house in the Cognac district is Hennessy’s, but it would be invidious to say that their brandy was superior either to Martell’s, Otard and Dupuy’s, the Société Vignicole, Courvoisier, or many other firms. That must be left to individual taste. But from these firms we can rely on having pure unadulterated brandies, the pure product of the vine, without any admixture of grain or beet spirit. At one time, adulteration was rife among the farmers, but in 1857 and 1858 several of them were prosecuted, and they are now credited with having abjured their evil ways.
J. A.
