I do not believe that the czars were ever accustomed to dine in such state as the kaisers. The old emperors of Germany, on state occasions, were waited on at dinner by the two happy feudatory princes of the empire. On one of these occasions, we are told that old General Dalzell, the terrible enemy of the Scottish Covenanters, was invited to dine with the kaiser, and the prince-waiter nearest to him in attendance was no less a personage than the Prince of Modena, head of the house of Este. Some years afterwards, the Duke of York (James II.) invited Dalzell to dine with himself and Mary of Modena. That proud lady, however, made some show of reluctance to sit down en famille with the old general; but the latter lowered her pride by telling her, that he was not unacquainted with the greatness of the princes of Modena, and that the last time he had sat at table with the Emperor of Germany, a prince of that house was standing in attendance behind the emperor’s chair.
There were other good points about Dalzell’s character; in proof of which may be cited his dining with Dundas, an old Covenanting Scotch laird, who would not forego his long prayers before dinner, and who especially prayed that Dalzell and his royal master might have their hard hearts softened towards the Covenanting children of the Lord. When the prayer was ended, and dinner about to begin, Dalzell complimented his host on his courage in fearing man less than God. The anecdote reminds me of one in connexion with a dinner given by a gentleman of one of our “Protestant denominations,” in honour of the presence of a new minister and his bride. Prayer preceded the repast, and it was given by the host, who, introducing therein the welcomed strangers, said, “We thank thee, O Lord, that thou hast conducted hither in safety thy servants, our new minister and his wife. It is thou, O Lord, who preservest both man and beast!” This was more like a kick than a compliment; but it only called up a smile on the pretty features of the minister’s lady.
Let us now cross the Atlantic, with Cortez and his companions, and contemplate Montezuma in his household and at his table. Barbarian as the Spanish invaders accounted him to be, he was superior in many respects to most of his royal contemporaries in Europe. He was not less magnificent than Solomon, and he was far more cleanly than Louis XIV.
On the terraced roof of his palace, thirty knights could tilt at each other, without complaining of want of space. His armouries were filled with weapons almost as destructive as any to be found in the arsenals of civilized Christian kings. His granaries were furnished with provisions paid by tributaries; three hundred servants tended the beautiful birds of his aviaries; his menageries were the wonder and terror of beholders; and his dwarfs were more hideous, and his ladies more dazzling, than potentate had ever before looked upon with contempt or admiration. His palace within and without was a marvel of Aztec art. It was surrounded by gardens, glad with fountains and gay flowers. One thousand ladies shared the retirement of this splendid locality, with a master more glittering than anything by which he was environed,—who changed his apparel four times daily, never putting on again a garment he had once worn, and who, eating off and drinking from gold, (except on state occasions, when his table was covered with services of Cholulan porcelain,) never used a second time the vessels which had once ministered to the indulgence of his appetite.
It is said eulogistically of his cooks, that they had thirty different ways of preparing meat,—a poor boast, perhaps, compared with that of the Parisian chefs, who have six hundred and eighty-five ways to dress eggs! Three hundred dishes were daily placed before the monarch; and such as were required to be kept hot at table were in heated earthenware stands made for the purpose. And it is even asserted, that this autocrat occasionally killed time before dinner by watching the cooking of his viands, a practice in which, according to Peter Pinder, that honest old English king used to indulge, who dined off boiled mutton at two, and to whom the funniest sight in the world was the clown in a pantomime swallowing carrots.
The ordinary dishes of Montezuma consisted of very dainty fare; namely, domestic fowls, geese, partridges, quails, venison, Indian hogs, pigeons, hares, rabbits, and other productions of his country, including—it is alleged by some and denied by others—some very choice dairy-fed baby, when this choice article happened to be in season! In cold weather enormous torches, that flung forth not only light but warmth and aromatic odours, lent additional splendour to the scene; and to temper at once the glare and the heat, screens with deliciously droll devices upon them, framed in gold, were placed before the brilliant flame.
The sovereign sat, like his links, also protected by a screen. He was not as barbarous as the most Christian kings of France, who fed in public; nor was he personally tended like them by awkward Ganymedes of a middle age. Four Hebes stood by the low throne and table of their master, and these poured water on his hands, and offered him the napkin, white as driven snow, or as the cloth on which the four hundred dishes stood waiting his attention. Women as fair presented him with bread; but even these fair ministers retired a few steps, when his sacred majesty addressed himself to the common process of eating. Then a number of ancient but sprightly nobles took their place. With these Montezuma conversed; and, when he was particularly pleased with a sage observation or a sprightly remark, a plate of pudding bestowed by the royal hand made one individual happy, and all his fellows bitterly jealous. The pudding, or whatever the dish might be, was eaten in silent reverence; and while an Aztec emperor was at meat, no one in the palace dared, at peril of his life, speak above his breath. Montezuma is described as being but a moderate eater, but fond of fruits, and indulging, with constraint upon his appetite, in certain drinks which were of a stimulating quality, such as are found in countries where civilization and luxury are at their highest.
“One thing I forgot, and no wonder,” says Bernal Diaz, “to mention in its place, and that is, during the time Montezuma was at dinner, two very beautiful women were busily employed making small cakes, with eggs and other things mixed therein. These were delicately white, and when made, they presented them to him on plates covered with napkins. Also, another kind of bread was brought to him on long leaves, and plates of cakes resembling wafers. After he had dined, they presented to him three little canes, highly ornamented, containing liquid amber, mixed with a herb they call tobacco; and when he had sufficiently viewed and heard the singers, dancers, and buffoons, he took a little of the smoke of one of those canes, and then laid himself down to sleep. The meal of the monarch ended, all his guards and attendants sat down to dinner, and, as near as I could judge, about a thousand plates of those eatables that I have mentioned, were laid before them, with vessels of foaming chocolate, and fruit in immense quantities. For his women and various inferior servants, his establishment was of a prodigious expense, and we were astonished, amid such a profusion, at the vast regularity that prevailed.”
What a contrast with the meal of this splendid barbarian is that of princes of the same complexion, but of different race, the Arab! We may fittingly include among sovereigns those Arab princes whose word, if it be not heeded far, is promptly obeyed within the little circle of their rule. Skins on the ground serve for table-cloths; the dishes are, in their contents, only the reflection of each other, and in the centre of the array whole lambs or sheep lie boiled or roasted. The chief and his followers dine in successive relays of company. Sometimes the skin is spread before the door of the tent, whether in a street or in the plain, and the passers-by, even to the beggars, invited with a “Bismillah,” In God’s name, fall to; and having eaten, exclaim, “Hamdallilah!” God be praised! and go their way.
Not less may we include, in the roll of Majesty at Meat, those Pilgrim Fathers who were the pioneers of civilization and liberty in America. Scant indeed was the table of that “sovereign people,” until they found security to sow seed, and reap the harvest in something like peace. The first meal which they enjoyed, after long months of labour, disease, and famine, was when they had constructed the little fort at Plymouth, behind which they might eat in safety and thankfulness. “The captain,” says Mr. Bartlett, in his “Pilgrim Fathers,” “had brought with him ‘a very fat goose,’ and those on shore had ‘a fat crane, and a mallard,’ and ‘a dried neat’s tongue.’ This fare was, no doubt, washed down with good English beer and strong waters; and thus, notwithstanding the gloom that hung over them, the day passed cheerfully and sociably away.” Such was the first official dinner of the “majesty of the people” beyond the Atlantic.