Let us interrogate the 19th century. Hardly had the lamentable wars which divided the nations of Europe ceased,—hardly had the vibration of the last cannon-shot died away,—when the people of every clime—too long disunited—sealed by fraternal banquets their tardy but frank reconciliation. The destructive genius of war is succeeded by those grand struggles of commerce and industry, which, aided by the arts and sciences of civilisation, dispense to all the blessing of reproductive wealth.
And then dinner is the sine quâ non,—to that goal all our efforts tend. The Englishman dines in Paris, the Frenchman dines in London; the time-honoured national dishes become cosmopolite, like those who dwell on the banks of the Thames or the Seine; on both sides the people are proud to communicate the arcana of those delicate preparations, which have only to cross the frontier to obtain, under a favourable sky, a more ample illustration and a new right of citizenship. Appetite, the roasting-jack,—in a word, gastronomy, serves perhaps to unite men much more firmly than motives of interest; and more than one thought useful to the human species has often originated in the midst of the creative excitement of a banquet, where, to say the least, we meet with that hearty goodwill and friendly aid which might be wanting elsewhere.
Shall we mention that prodigious enterprise with which a noble prince—the enlightened protector of industry and the arts, and so worthy of our love and respect—has deigned to couple a name dear to public gratitude?
The royal plan was nothing less than this: to erect an immense, costly, and sumptuous palace, in which each nation should deposit the material proofs of its intelligence. Neither Rome nor Greece ever conceived such a thought! Louis XIV., with all his magnificence, and the magic pomp of his reign, imagined nothing equal to it!
This great and complex idea struck many persons no doubt with surprise; but England—we must do her the justice which facts prove to be her due—is always ready to undertake impossibilities, and generally performs them.
However, it was necessary to bring together a certain number of influential, scientific, patriotic, and wealthy men, and obtain their co-operation to realise that modern arch of crystal, into which the industry of the world would be summoned to send its most marvellous productions. Banquets were proposed, and banquets took place, in honour of a prince who was about to connect all parts of the globe in the bands of commercial fraternity. The Lord Mayor of the city of London—that celebrated factory of the world’s trade!—invited all the mayors of the three kingdoms to come and place themselves by the side of the august spouse of their sovereign, at a feast worthy of such guests by its delicate profusion and splendid magnificence. There his Royal Highness Prince Albert received the enthusiastic assurance of the realisation of a colossal project, a philanthropic thought,—the union of nations, by rousing the noble pride of their nationality!
In their turn, the mayors of Great Britain and Ireland were desirous of offering to the Lord Mayor of the city of London a banquet, at which his Royal Highness would be present; and this feast, a grandiose and sympathetic demonstration on the part of the votaries of the memorable London Exhibition, took place the 25th October, 1850, in the gothic Guildhall of York, where remembrance of the past was blended with hopes for the future.
It was resolved to intrust us with the direction of the gastronomic department, and, let us add, the artistic arrangement of that banquet, which, by reason of its unprecedented richness and truly magic aspect, no pen can describe, owing partly to the magnificence of the maces, swords, banners, &c., of each county being for the first time displayed under the same roof. The engraving which we present to our readers[F] will perhaps convey an idea of a portion of the splendour of the entertainment.
The guests at the royal table consisted of the following distinguished personages:
The Lord Mayor of York being in the chair, there were seated on his right his Royal Highness Prince Albert, his Grace the Archbishop of York, Earl Fitzwilliam, Lord John Russell, Earl Minto, Lord Overstone, Lord Beaumont, and the Right Honourable Sir Charles Wood. On his Lordship’s left were the Lord Mayor of London, the Marquis of Clanricarde, the Earl of Carlisle, the Earl of Abercorn, Lord Feversham, the Earl Granville, the High Sheriff of Yorkshire, the Right Honourable Sir G. Grey, Bart., and Sir J. V. Johnstone, Bart.