The couplets also err as to pickerel, which are mentioned in mediæval glossaries at a date long before the Reformation.
In that curious old work the Promptorium Parvulorum (1440), which is, in fact, an old English-Latin dictionary, occur some passages which, when taken in conjunction with the London Records of a slightly later date, seem to show that the introduction of hops into English brewing (excepting their possible use in Saxon times) should be assigned to a period a little before the middle of the fifteenth century.
The word “hoppe” is defined as “sede for beyre. Humulus secundum extraneos.” “Bere” is defined as “a drynke. Humulina, vel humuli potus, aut cervisia hummulina.” The inference to be drawn from these passages is that hops and beer, in the sense of hopped ale, were known in England some time previous to the year 1440. The compiler, however, shows by his definition of “bere” as a “drynke,” that the word required some explanation, for when he mentions “ale,” he simply gives the Latin equivalent, “cervisia.” He certainly regarded beer as an interloper, as shown by his note on ale, “Et nota bene quod est potus Anglorum.” Four years after the date of the publication of the Promptorium, William Lounde and Richard Veysey were appointed inspectors or surveyors of the “bere-bruers” of the City of London, as distinguished from the ale-brewers who were at this time a company governed by a master and wardens. Ten years later an {68} ordinance for the government of the beer-brewers was sanctioned by the Lord Mayor. From this date the City Records contain frequent mention of the beer-brewers as distinct from the ale-brewers. However, beer, “the son of ale,” as an old writer calls it, did not rapidly attain popularity. Ten years after the date last referred to, the beer-brewers petitioned the Lord Mayor and “Worshipfull soveraignes the Aldermen” of the City of London, in these terms:—“To the full honourable Lord the Maire, etc. Shewen mekely unto youre good Lordshipp and maistershippes, the goode folke of this famous citee the which usen Bere-bruyng within the same, that where all mistiers and craftys of the sd citee have rules and ordenances by youre grete auctoritees for the common wele of this honourable citee made, and profite of the same craftys,” but the petitioners have none such rules, and therefore the citizens are liable to be imposed upon “in measure of barell, kilderkyns and firkyns, and in hoppes and other greynes the which to the said mistiere apperteynen. . . . It is surmysed upon them that often tymes they make their bere of unseasonable malt the which is of little prise and unholsome for mannes body for their singular availe, forasmuch as the comon peple for lacke of experience cannot know the perfitnesse of bere as wele as of the ale,” the petitioners pray that certain regulations of the trade may be established by authority. Passing over another period of twenty years, during which the City Records contain nothing to show whether hops and beer advanced or declined in popularity, we find that in the first year of Richard III. a petition was presented to Lord Mayor Billesdon, by the Brewers’ Company, showing “that whereas by the sotill and crafty means of foreyns[36] dwelling withoute the franchises . . . . . a deceivable and unholsome fete in bruyng of ale within the said citee nowe of late is founde and practised, that is to say, in occupying and puttyng of hoppes and other things in the said ale, contrary to the good and holesome manner of bruynge of ale of old tyme used, . . . to the great deceite and hurt of the King’s liege people. . . . Pleas it therefore your saide good lordshyppe to forbid the putting into ale of any hops, herbs, or any other like thing, but onely licour, malte and yeste.” The petition is granted and a penalty of 6s. 8d. is laid on every barrel of ale so brewed contrary to the ancient use. This early use of the technical {69} term “licour,” or liquor, instead of water is noteworthy. We learn by a note in the Letter-book that the fine on putting hops into ale was shortly afterwards reduced to 3s. 4d. the barrel, while any other kind of adulteration is still to subject the offender to the full fine of 6s. 8d. It will have been observed that it is not the making of beer which is forbidden, but the putting of hops into ale, and selling the drink as ale. There is abundant evidence to show that beer continued to be made and sold with the sanction of the authorities, and that the beer-brewers, many of whom at this time were Dutchmen, practised a separate craft from that of the ale-brewers. Two years after the date of the last petition a regulation was made that no beer-brewer is to be “affered” (fined) more than 6s. 8d., nor an ale-brewer more than two shillings, for breaking the assize. The oath of the ale-searchers contains the following passage:—“Ye shall swear . . . to search and assay . . . that the ale be holsom, weell soden and able for mannes body, and made with none other stuff but only with holsom and clere ale-yest, watyr and malt, and such as you find unholsom for mannes body or brewed with any other thing except with watyr and malt, be it with rosen, hoppes, bere-yest, or any other craft, . . .” you shall duly report for punishment. In the same year it is recorded that the beer-brewers were ordered to use “gode clene, sweete, holsom greyne and hoppes,” and the rulers of the beer-brewers are to have powers of inspection of hops and other grains.
[36] A “foreyn” was one who was not a freeman of the City—no reference to nationality.
Prosecutions for the use of hops were frequent, but they were for putting hops into ale, and not for brewing beer. In the twelfth year of Henry VII., John Barowe was presented by the wardens of the brewers because he brewed ale with beer-yeast, “quod est corpori humano insalubre.” Nine years later Robert Dodworth, brewer’s servant, confessed that he had brewed “a burthen of ale in the house of his master in Fleet Street with hops, contrary to the laws and laudable acts and customs of the city.” In the tenth year of Henry VIII., William Shepherd, brewer’s servant to Philip Cooper, “occupying the feat of bruing,” made a deposition that he had “once since Michaelmas last brewed ale with hops, but that his master knew not of it,” but that he had heard that other servants had brewed with hops, “and that was the cause why he brewed with hoppes, and more he would not say.” Philip Cooper, however, was evidently suspected, for in the same records we find that he was compelled to bring into the Court “a standing cup with a cover of gylt with three red hearts in the bottom of the cup to stand to the order of the Court touching the brewing with hoppes.” On {70} payment of a fine of five shillings, his gage is ordered to be returned to him. Many other passages could be quoted from the City Records in support of the view that beer-brewing was not forbidden, but only the adulteration, as it was considered, of the old English ale with an admixture of hops. We have dwelt somewhat fully upon this part of the subject, as there appears to be an almost universal misconception as to the date of the introduction of hops into England, and as to their use having been for some time altogether prohibited by the law of the land. The only authority for this last mentioned idea, seems to be the statement of Fuller, in his Worthies of England, that hops were forbidden as the result of a petition which was presented in the time of Henry VI. against “the wicked weed called hops.” No statute to this effect is in existence, no record is to be found in the rolls of Parliament of any such petition, and the statement is in opposition to the evidence we have been able to collect on the subject.
About the year 1524 a large number of Flemish immigrants settled in Kent, cultivated hops and brewed beer, and soon caused that county to become famous for its hop gardens and the excellence of their produce. To these strangers is perhaps due the chief credit of having enlightened the British mind on the subject of bitter beer, and their advent is probably the event pointed to in the old couplet already quoted.
Among the numerous officials appointed to enforce the regulations of the City, were persons called hop-searchers, whose duty it was to search for defective hops, which, when found were burnt. Wriothesley’s Chronicle mentions that “on the 10th daie of September, 1551, was burned in Finsburie Field XXXI sacke and pokettes of hopps in the afternoune, being nought, and not holsome for man’s bodie, and condemned by an Act made by my Lord Maior and his bretheren the aldermen the 10th daie of September, at which court six comeners of the Cittie of London were apoynted to be serchers for a hole yeare for the said hopps; and they were sworne the fifth daie of this moneth and made search ymediatlie for the same.”
The popular taste is not a thing to be changed in a day, and at that happy period of history when railways, penny posts, newspapers, stump orators and other nineteenth-century methods of enlightenment were unknown and undreamt of, it may well be understood that the knowledge of this great improvement spread but slowly. Not only were the English slow to appreciate what the Flemings had done for them, but they believed that they were like to be poisoned by the new-fangled drink which was not in their eyes to be compared to the sweet and {71} thick, but honest and unsophisticated English ale. The writers of the day are loud in their abuse of beer. In the passages from Andrew Boorde’s Dyetary (1542), quoted in Chapter I. (p. 6), ale is described as being the natural drink of Englishmen, and made of malt and water, while beer, which is composed of malt, hops, and water, is the natural drink of a Dutchman, and of late is much used in England, to the great detriment of many Englishmen. There is a truly insular ring about this. We should like to enlighten old Andrew’s darkness by a draught of sparkling Burton. Boorde undoubtedly expresses the popular opinion of the period, for from Rastall’s Book of Entries we learn that an ale-man brought his action against his Brewer for spoiling his ale, by putting in it a certain weed called a hopp, and recovered damages. Even Harry the Eighth, who of all our kings was the greatest lover of good things—and a few bad ones—was blind to the merits of the hop, and enjoined the Royal brewer of Eltham that he put neither hops nor brimstone into the ale. Possibly sulphuring, of which a word or two anon, was then in use; we cannot otherwise account for the mention of brimstone. This was in 1530, only six years after the Flemings had settled in Kent.
Abused by medical writers as drink only fit for Dutchmen, objected to by the king, and disliked by the majority of the people, the song-writers of the day, of course, had a good deal to say against the new drink. In the High and Mightie Commendation of the Virtue of a Pot of Good Ale, it is hardly surprising to find the following lines:—
And in very deed, the hops but a weed Brought over ’gainst law, and here set to sale, Would the law were removed, and no more Beer brewed, But all good men betake them to a pot of good ale.