But it was “usual” only in the days of sailing-ships and long voyages; and with fast steamers and whole evenings devoted to the beauties of poker, or selling pools, a more usual modern maritime drink is a modicum of whisky diluted with aërated water.
“The liquor called Punch,” writes another professional authority, “has become so truly English, it is often supposed to be indigenous to this country, though its name at least is Oriental. The Persian punj, or Sanscrit pancha, i.e. five (vide Fryer’s Travels), is the etymon of its title, and denotes the number of ingredients of which it is composed. Addison’s ‘fox-hunter,’ who testified so much surprise when he found that of the materials of which this ‘truly English’ beverage was made only the water belonged to England, would have been still more astonished had his informant also told him that it derived even its name from the East.”
But did natives of the East drink it? Tell me that.
“Various opinions are entertained respecting this compound drink. Some authors praise it as a cooling and refreshing beverage, when drunk {103} in moderation; others condemn the use of it as prejudicial to the brain and nervous system. Dr. Cheyne, a celebrated Scotch physician, author of an essay on ‘Long Life and Health,’ and who by a system of diet and regimen reduced himself from the enormous weight of thirty-two stone to nearly one-third, which enabled him to live to the age of seventy-two, insists that there is but one wholesome ingredient in it, and that is the water. Dr. Willich, on the contrary, asserts that if a proper quantity of acid be used in making punch, it is an excellent antiseptic, and well calculated to supply the place of wine in resisting putrefaction, especially if drank cold with plenty of sugar; it also promotes perspiration; but if drank hot and immoderately it creates acidity in the stomach, weakens the nerves, and gives rise to complaints of the breast. He further states that after a heavy meal it is improper, as it may check digestion, and injure the stomach.
“Rennie states that he once heard a facetious physician at a public hospital prescribe for a poor fellow sinking under the atrophy of starvation a bowl of punch. Mr. Wadd gives us a prescription:—
“ ‘Rum, aqua dulci miscetur acetum, et fiet ex tali fœdere nobile Punch.’
“He also states that toddy, or punch without acid, when made for a day or two before it is used, is a good and cheap substitute for wine as a tonic, in convalescence from typhus fever, etc.”
It is here worthy of note that what is meant by “punch” in Ireland is, and has been for at least two centuries, whisky, sugar, lemon, and {104} the less water the better. A very old way of concocting it is to melt the sugar within the tumbler (which should be covered, pro tem.) with the smallest quantity of water sufficient for the purpose, the thin lemon-rind having been previously added. Then comes the whisky; “and,” according to the old formula, “the laste dhrop o’ wather” added atop of the “crathur” will spoil the punch. But in all English works in which punch has been mentioned—previous to the early seventies, at all events—by the active ingredients of punch should be understood either rum, brandy, or gin.
“English Punch,”
says a writer of our own time, “is, as regards the spirit, mostly of two kinds—brandy and rum, mixed in proportions which must be left to taste. The rum generally predominates. The acid is nearly always lemon juice. The spice is nearly always lemon-peel, but sometimes tea-leaf”—now marry come up!—“sometimes nutmeg; and as for the sugar and the water they explain themselves.”