Our dinner on which you compliment me so much, we sat down twelve, for although the room and table would accommodate more, yet as my service of plate is for that number, and the arrangements of the kitchen are limited, that is the number I prefer, besides beyond which the conversation becomes partial, which is the bane of a dinner-table. You know we have no regular man-servant, but for these occasions I hire two, and place one on each side the table, and they each have their own side table with a change of everything that is required. The first thing to be looked to is the lights: these ought to be so placed as not to intercept the view of any person at the table, but at the same time they ought to be enough to show everything off to advantage; I prefer removing some of the lights from the table to the sideboard when the cloth is removed, as the light after dinner ought to be more subdued. In laying the cloth we place it over the baize, and remove it after dinner, as Mr. B. says he likes to see the mahogany, for when he asks a city friend to come and put his feet under his mahogany, it looks rather foolish if he never sees it. I have, as you know, my table rather wide, that is, six feet, and I generally place a vase of flowers in the centre, as I think their freshness and odor add greatly to the appearance of the table, and admit a flanc on each side. We prefer the old English plan of taking the top and bottom of the table, instead of I and Mr. B. being together at the side.
The cloth being laid with its proper side uppermost, I order a napkin, two knives, two prongs, two tablespoons, and two wine-glasses to be placed to each person, a saltcellar between every other, that being a condiment which every one uses, though often wrongly; the cruet-frames and other requisites are kept on the sideboards. I then have the fish and soup served together, the potatoes and sauce on the sideboard; I serving the soup, and Mr. B. the fish, and often a little dish of fried fish, such as smelts, &c., to remove the soups. This gives me an opportunity of seeing that my guests are properly attended to, and also leisure of taking wine with any gentleman who challenges me. During the time this course has been progressing, the cook has had time to dish up the removes nice and hot, and get all up close to the door, as I like as little time as possible to intervene in changing the dishes; and these consist generally of variously dressed chickens, which I have before me, as this gives an opportunity for the gentleman on my right to display his gallantry; but, thanks to Soyer’s separator, this is an easy task. This affords me still further leisure to pay attention to my guests. Mr. B., who is a capital carver, either has a saddle or a haunch of mutton, or a quarter of lamb before him, the rest of the dishes consisting of a tongue and entrées. I select those most easy to carve, and also easy for the cook to prepare. This is a period of dinner where a great deal depends upon the attendants; they should know almost by the look what this lady or that gentleman require, and what kind of vegetables to hand them; a first-rate butler should be able to judge by the physiognomy to whom he should offer mint sauce with the lamb, and who prefers cayenne; on their attention and hot plates, depends the success of the substantial part of the dinner.
As soon as I see that all are served, and words are few in consequence of the organ which utters them being employed in another way, I give a look to the two servants, which they understand, and immediately two reports are heard,—they are from two bottles of champagne, opened at the same time by the attendants, who have each a salver with six glasses on it; this takes but a short time to serve, and prepares the palate for the entrées, which generally get praised; indeed my cook would think something was wrong if two of the dishes did not go down empty. By having the champagne thus, I find it goes much further than if only one bottle was opened at the time, there being sufficient left in the bottles for a gentleman to challenge a lady to take champagne with him. If I have game I remove the top and bottom dishes with them, and make the sweets a separate course, taking care to have cold plates for the jelly, and having the liquors handed round when the sweets are on the table; one cheese I place opposite Mr. B., and macaroni opposite myself. Objections have been made to the use of napkins, as being of no service at an English dinner-table, and only a copy of the dirty manners of our neighbors. If we are more cleanly at the table than they are (which I question), there is no reason why we should not use that which would make us still more so; but Mr. B. is so well pleased with the rose water which he has at the court dinners of his company, that he made me a present of those two beautiful dishes which you admired so much. The outside compartment holds rose-water, and the inner one a little eau-de-cologne; these are placed on salvers, and pass down each side of the table, the corner of each napkin being dipped into it. They seem to be absolutely required, and I must say they form a delightful adjunct to the dinner-table.
He[9] has also introduced at our table, but only at Christmas, another city custom, which the gentlemen seem very much to like,—I cannot say so for the ladies; it is what he calls a loving cup; he has it placed before him when the cheese is put on; and after filling the glass of the lady on each side of him, he rises and drinks to their health and the rest of the company, and then passes it to the gentleman on the left, who, in like manner, fills the glass of the lady on his left, rises, drinks to her health and the company, and thus it goes round the table. Your husband, my dear Eloise, thought that the contents were exceedingly good, or, as he expressed it, nectar fit for the gods, and would like to have the receipt,—here it is as Mr. B. prepares it:—The cup holds two quarts; he places in it half a teacupful of capillaire; if he has none, he uses dissolved lump sugar, with a few drops of orange-flower water in it, one pint of brown sherry, one bottle of good Edinburgh ale, mixing these together, and a minute before placing on the table, adding one bottle of soda water, stirring it well up till it froths; he then grates some nutmeg on the froth, and places a piece of toast in it, and sends it to the table with a napkin through the handle of the cup. I must say, since we have had this, it has produced some most interesting conversation as regarded the antiquity of the custom, &c. In addition, Mr. B. bought the cup at a sale, and it is stated to have been drunk out of by Henry the Eighth: this of itself is a subject of conversation, and draws out the talents and conversational powers of our guests, and one in which ladies can join, as there is hardly one of our sex who has not read Miss Strickland’s “Queens of England.” You have often made the remark, that the time always appears short whilst we are at table; this is, no doubt, from the animated conversation which is kept up, for that is the real motive of meeting together, to enjoy the conversation of one another, to gain and impart information, and amuse ourselves with the wit and talent of those around us, and not for the sake of eating and drinking; yet without the assistance of both of these, the most sparkling wit would be as heavy as a bad soufflé, and the brightest talent as dull as my looking-glass on a foggy day.
In order to prolong the time, and to enjoy the gentlemen’s society as much as possible, I do not have the dessert placed on the table until ten or twenty minutes after the cloth is removed; this also gives an opportunity for my guests to admire the beautiful Sevres dessert plates, containing views of the French chateaux; this of course gives a subject for conversation to those who have visited them. In the dessert I generally introduce some new importation, such as bananas, sugar-cane, American lady apples, prickly pears, &c.; these also give a subject for the gentlemen to talk about when the ladies have left, as free trade, colonial policy, &c. About half an hour after the dessert is on the table, and when I see that the conversation is becoming less general, I retire to the drawing-room; the servants then remove the dirty glass and plates, and Mr. B. introduces some of his choice claret or Burgundy in ice coolers.
You know, my dear Eloise, I allow very little more than half an hour for us to talk about the last new fashions, or of Mrs. A. and B.’s cap, and the young ones about their partners at the last ball, and other nothings, when the tea and coffee are brought up on salvers; it is always made down stairs, and sent up in cups to the drawing-room, although Mr. B. had a very handsome silver service presented to him just after we were married, for serving as an honorary secretary to some grand masonic festival, yet the milk ewer and sugar basin are all I allow in the room. This does away with the formality of the tea-table and the hissing of the tea-urn; it allows some young gentlemen with a Byron collar and a little down under his chin to turn over the pages of a music-book for a young lady at the piano, and make his coffee at the same time; it allows my dear mamma and Mr. P. to make up their whist table, and have their tea whilst playing; or, if we make up a quadrille, to have a few turns of a waltz or polka, the coffee is serving during the time; whilst this is going on the hand of the clock advances, and half-past ten soon arrives, and with it Mrs. C.’s fly; Dr. D.’s brougham is at the door; the party breaks up, delighted with the evening they have passed in each other’s society: and this you see done with trifling management.
[LETTER NO. XVIII]
DEAREST ELOISE,—You are right in your remark, that there is a great difference as to the manner and way in which evening parties or soirées are given in different houses, although being frequented by the same party or circle. I must say I have my own ideas on this subject, and I think the French understand this matter much better than we do, and that we could not do better than imitate them. We English are a plodding, matter-of-fact people, and carry our notions into every concern in life: our dinners and entertainments are given with an ulterior object, and with a view of what may be gained from it, even from the charitable dinner at the London Tavern to the man who asks another to partake of a pint of beer with him at a public-house. It is this, together with ostentation, which is the bane of society, by bringing together people of incongruity of ideas, destroying that free exchange of thought which constitutes the true pleasure of social réunions; we are also naturally of a reserved and cautious disposition: hence the reason why the pleasures of a soirée are not felt until after supper. Of these I am a great advocate, though not to the extravagant and outré manner many are given in the present day. Of course in the way most ladies are now educated, they would rather be attending to the adornment of their persons for the occasion than to the entertainment and amusement of their guests. Those who can afford it, are quite right to patronize a first-rate confectioner, and thus save themselves the trouble; but how many that cannot afford it do the same thing, and make a bargain for a bad supper with one, by which he gains little, and the guests great disgust, instead of doing it at home and ordering a few good things which would look and eat well. There are a variety of drinks which could be made at a moderate expense, good and wholesome, and infinitely better than bad Marsala, which you are often obliged to partake of. I will enclose you a few receipts for them, and some bills of fare for suppers for small soirées.