In close proximity to the tea and coffee-pots stand the milk-jug and the sugar-basin. What find we here? A few years ago the town was frightened from its propriety by a little work entitled “Observations on London Milk,” published by a medical gentleman of the name of Rugg, which gave some fearful disclosures relative to the manner in which London milk was adulterated. Dr. Hassall’s analyses go to show that, with the exception of the produce of the “iron-tailed cow,” none of the supposed defilements really exist, and that the milkman is a sadly maligned individual. Water is added in quantities varying in different samples from 10 to 50 per cent.; and in the more unfashionable parts of the town all the cream is abstracted to be forwarded to the West-end. If milk must be adulterated in large towns, water is undoubtedly the most harmless ingredient; at the same time it will be seen what a fraud is perpetrated upon the public by selling milky water at 4d. a quart.
That the London milking-pail goes as often to the pump as to the cow we have no manner of doubt. To bring the diluted goods up to a delicate cream colour, it is common to swing round a ball of annatto in the can; and other careful observers and writers upon the adulteration of food have detected flour, starch, and treacle. All medical men know that children are often violently disordered by their morning or evening portion,—an effect which could not come from the mere admixture of water—and we must confess that we ourselves believe the milkman to be a very wicked fellow.
We are afraid, if we look into the sugar-basin, we shall not find much more comfort than in the milk-jug. We refer here to the ordinary brown sugars, such as are generally used at the breakfast-table for coffee. It is scarcely possible to procure moist sugar which is not infested with animalculæ of the acari genus, a most disgusting class of creatures. In many samples of sugars they swarm to that extent that the mass moves with them; and in almost every case, by dissolving a spoonful in a wine-glass of water, dozens of them can be detected by the naked eye, either floating upon the liquid or adhering to the edge of the glass. Those who are in the habit of “handling” sugars, as it is termed, are liable to a skin affection called the grocer’s itch, which is believed to be occasioned by these living inhabitants of our sugar-basins. Horrible as it is to think that such creatures are an article in daily use, we cannot charge the grocer directly with their introduction; the evil is, however, increased by the manner in which he mixes, or “handles,” as it is termed in the trade, higher-priced sugars with muscovados, bastards, and other inferior kinds, in which the animalculæ abound.
In addition to this foreign animal element, grocers sometimes mix flour with their sugar, and, if we are to put any credit in popular belief, sand; but of the presence of this gritty ingredient we have never seen any trustworthy evidence. Nevertheless we have said enough to show that the tea-dealer and grocer do their best to supply the proverbial “peck of dirt” which all of us must eat before we die. Would that we were fed with nothing more deleterious or repulsive! Let us see, however, the base admixtures one is liable to swallow in taking—
| A Cup of Tea | or a | Cup of Coffee. |
| In the Tea. | In the Coffee. | |
| If Green— | Chicory. | |
| Prussian-blue. | In the Chicory. | |
| Turmeric. | Roast wheat. | |
| China clay or French chalk. | "acorn. | |
| Used tea-leaves. | "mangold-wurzel. | |
| Copperas. | "beans. | |
| If Black— | "carrots. | |
| Gum. | "parsnips | |
| Black lead. | "lupin-seeds. | |
| Dutch pink. | "dog-biscuits. | |
| Used tea-leaves. | "horse-chestnuts. | |
| Leaves of the ash, sloe, hawthorn, and of many other kinds. | Oxide of iron. Mahogany sawdust. | |
| Baked horse’s liver. | ||
| "bullock’s liver. | ||
| In the Milk. | In the Milk. | |
| On an average 25 per cent. of water. | Water 25 per cent. | |
| Annatto. | Annatto. | |
| Treacle. | Flour. | |
| Flour. | Treacle. | |
| Oxide of iron. | Oxide of iron. | |
| And other unknown ingredients. | And other unknown ingredients. | |
| In the Sugar. | In the Sugar. | |
| If Brown— | If Brown— | |
| Wheat flour. | Wheat flour. | |
| Hundreds of the sugar-insect. | Hundreds of the sugar-insect. | |
| If White— | If White— | |
| Albumen of bullock’s blood. | Albumen of bullock’s blood. |
As we perceive the teetotalers are petitioning Parliament and agitating the towns for the closing of public-houses, we beg to present them, in either hand, with a cup of the above mixtures, with the humble hope that means will be found by them to supply the British public with some drink a little less deleterious to health, a little more pleasant to the palate, and somewhat less disgusting to the feelings. Some of the sugar impurities may be avoided by using the crystallized East-Indian kind—the size of the crystals not permitting of its being adulterated with inferior sorts.
We shall not dwell upon cocoa further than to state that it is a still rarer thing to obtain it pure than either tea or coffee. The almost universal adulterations are sugar, starch, and flours together with red colouring matter, generally some ferruginous earth; whilst, as far as we can see, what is termed homœopathic cocoa is only distinguished from other kinds by the small quantity of that substance contained in it.
There is scarcely an article on the breakfast-table, in fact, which is what it seems to be. The butter, if salt, is adulterated with between 20 and 30 per cent. of water. A merchant in this trade tells the Lancet that “between 40,000 and 50,000 casks of adulterated butter are annually sold in London, and the trade knows it as well as they know a bad shilling.” Lard when cheap also finds its way to the butter-tub. Perhaps those who flatter themselves that they use nothing but “Epping” will not derive much consolation from the following letter, also published in the same journal:—
“To the Editor of the Lancet.
“Sir,—Having taken apartments in the house of a butterman, I was suddenly awoke at three o’clock one morning with a noise in the lower part of the house, and alarmed on perceiving a light below the door of my bed-room; conceiving the house to be on fire, I hurried down stairs. I found the whole family busily occupied, and, on my expressing alarm at the house being on fire, they jocosely informed me they were merely making Epping butter. They unhesitatingly informed me of the whole process. For this purpose they made use of fresh-salted butter of a very inferior quality: this was repeatedly washed with water in order to free it from the salt. This being accomplished, the next process was to wash it frequently with milk, and the manufacture was completed by the addition of a small quantity of sugar. The amateurs of fresh Epping butter were supplied with this dainty, which yielded my ingenious landlord a profit of at least 100 per cent., besides establishing his shop as being supplied with Epping butter from one of the first-rate dairies.—I am, sir, your obedient servant,