"Why so, Mr. Blackmantle?"
"Because they will have the merit of being very funny upon a very grave subject—jeu d'esprits upon our latter end."
"Could you make room for three more gentlemen?" said the waiter, ushering in three woe-begone knights of the trencher, who, having heard the fatal clock strike when at the bottom of the hill, and knowing the punctuality of the house, had toiled upwards with breathless anxiety to be present at the first attack, and arrived at the end of the second course, just in time to be too late. "Confound all clocks and clockmakers! set my watch by Bishopsgate church, and made sure I was a quarter too fast." "Very sorry, gentlemen, very sorry, indeed," said Boniface; "nothing left that is eatable—not a chop or a steak in the house; but there is an excellent ordinary at the Spaniards, about a mile further down the lane; always half an hour later than ours." "Ay, it's a grievous affair, landlord; but howsomdever, if there's nothing to eat, why we must go: we meant to have done you justice to-day—but never mind, we'll be in time for you another Sunday, old gentleman, depend upon it; "and with this significant promise the three hungarians departed, not a little disappointed.
"Those three men are no ordinary customers," said our host; "they have done us the honour to dine here before, and what is more, of leaving nothing behind; one of them is the celebrated Yorkshireman, Tom Cornish, whom General Picton pitted against a Hanoverian glutton to eat for a fortnight, and found, at the end of a week, that he was a whole bullock, besides twelve quartern loaves, and half a barrel of beer, ahead of his antagonist; and if the Hanoverian had not given up, Tom would have eaten the rations of a whole company. His father is said to have been equally gluttonous and penurious, and could eat any given quantity: this person once dining with a member of the Society of Friends, who was also a scion of Elwes' school, after having eat enough for four moderate visitors, re-helped himself, exclaiming, 'You see it's cut and come again with me! 'to which the sectarian gravely replied, 'Friend, cut again thou may'st, but come again thou never shalt.'"
"Ay, that's a very good joke, landlord," said the alderman; "but you know I am up to your jokes: you think these long stories will save your mutton, but there you're wrong—they only give time to take breath; so bring in the sirloin and the saddle of mutton, waiter; and when we've done dinner I'll tell you an anecdote of old Tattersall and his beef-eater, which occurred at this house in a former landlord's time. Come, Mr. Blackmantle, let me send you a slice of the sirloin, and tell us what you think of good eating."
"That the wit of modern times directs all its rage ad gulam; and the only inducement to study is erudito luxu, to please the palate, and satisfy the stomach. Even my friend Ebony, the northern light, has cast off the anchorite, and sings thus jollily:
'The science of eating is old,
Its antiquity no man can doubt:
Though Adam was squeamish, we're told,
Eve soon found a dainty bit out.'
"We talk of the degeneracy of the moderns, as if men now-a-days were in every respect inferior to their ancestors; but I maintain, and challenge contradiction, that there are many stout rubicund gentlemen in this metropolis that might be backed for eating or drinking with any Bacchanalian or masticator since the days of Adam himself. What was Offellius Bibulus, the Roman parasite, or Silenus Ebrius, or Milo, who could knock down an ox, and eat him up directly afterwards, compared to Tom Cornish, or Richardson the oyster eater?{3} or what are all these opposed to the Oxonian, who, a short time since, went to the Swan at Bedford, and ordered dinner? a goose being brought, he hacked it in a style at which Mrs. Glass would have fainted; indeed so wretched was the mutilated anatomy, in appearance, from bad carving, that, being perfectly ashamed of it, he seized the moment when some poor mendicant implored his charity at the window, deposited the remains of the goose in his apron, rang the bell, and asked for his bill: the waiter gazed a moment at the empty dish, and then rushing to the landlord, exclaimed, 'Oh! measter, measter, the gentleman eat the goose, bones and all!' and the worthies of Bedford believe the wondrous tale to this day."
To return to Tom Cornish, our host informed us his extraordinary powers of mastication were well known, and dreaded by all the tavern-keeping fraternity who had Sunday ordinaries within ten miles round London, with some of whom he was a regular annuitant, receiving a trifle once a year, in lieu of giving them a benefit, as he terms the filling of his voracious paunch. A story is told of his father, who is said to have kept a very scanty table, that dining one Saturday with
3 In 1762, says Evelyn in his Diary, "one Richardson,
amongst other feats, performed the following: taking a live
coal on his tongue, he put on it a raw oyster; the coal was
blown on with a bellows, till it flamed in his mouth, and so
remained till the oyster gaped, and was quite boiled."
Certainly the most simple of all cooking apparatus.