Anderson makes an observation (under the date 1548), which deserves to be noticed here, were it only on account of its singularity. “The English,” says he, “cultivated scarcely any vegetable before the last two centuries. At the commencement of the reign of Henry VIII., neither salad, nor carrots, nor cabbages, nor radishes, nor any other comestibles of a like nature, were grown in any part of the kingdom; they came from Holland and Flanders.”
According to the author of a project, printed in London in 1723, in 8vo., “for the relief of the poor, and the payment of old debts, without the creation of new taxes,” Queen Catherine herself could not procure a salad for her dinner. The king was obliged to send over to Holland for a gardener to cultivate those pot-herbs, with which England is, perhaps, better furnished now than any other country in Europe.
Anderson asserts (1660) that cauliflowers were not known in England until about the time of the Restoration. And, lastly, the author of the “State of England,” printed in 1768, remarks that asparagus and artichokes were only introduced a few years antecedent to that date.
VIII.
DRIED VEGETABLES.
BEANS.
This innocent vegetable, which with us certainly awakens no lugubrious thoughts, was formerly consecrated to the dead. It was offered in sacrifices to the infernal gods, and its mysterious virtues evoked by night, spirits, and shadows.[VIII_1] The Flamen of Jupiter could not eat it, and he was forbidden to touch a bean, or even to pronounce its name;[VIII_2] for the fatal plant contains a little black spot, which is no other than a noxious character—a type of death.[VIII_3]
Pythagoras and his followers carefully avoided this dismal food, in the fear of submitting a father, sister, or beloved wife to the danger of a cruel mastication;[VIII_4] for who knew where wandering souls might rest during the course of their numerous transmigrations.
Grave writers say the cause of this abstinence is, that beans are difficult of digestion; that they stupify those who make use of them as food; and that hens who eat them cease to lay eggs.[VIII_5] What more shall we say? Hippocrates, wise as he certainly was, had some of these strange fears, and he trembled for his patients when beans were in blossom.[VIII_6]
In spite of such ridiculous prejudices, this plant had numerous and enlightened defenders. When green, it was served on tables renowned for delicacies; and, when fully ripe, it frequently replaced both wheat and other corn.[VIII_7] One of the festivals of Apollo—the Pyanepsia—owed its origin and pomp to the bean. This vegetable then obtained preeminence over all that were boiled in the saucepan, and offered to the God of Day and the Fine Arts.[VIII_8] Is it possible to imagine a more brilliant rehabilitation?