At Christmas and other festivals when his neighbors were feasted in his hall, he would, in the midst of their dinner, rise from his own, and going to each of their tables, cheerfully bid them welcome; and when guests of honor and high rank filled his own table, he seated himself at the lower end; and when such guests filled but half his board and those of meaner degree the other half, he would take his own seat between them in the midst of his long table near the salt, which gracious considerate acts did much to gain the love that his people had for him.
And in commenting on this passage a recent writer remarks that his haughty wife, Lady Katherine, high-born and beautiful and clever though she was, could hardly be imagined as sitting “below the salt,” out of consideration for the feelings of an inferior.[343]
In the houses of well-to-do farmers among the Scottish peasantry in the latter part of the eighteenth century, a linen cloth was sometimes spread over the upper portion of the dinner-table, where sat the farmer and the members of his family. Quite commonly, however, a chalk-line divided this end of the board from the lower portion where the hired laborers were seated; and in the more pretentious households the salt-dish served as a boundary.[344]
In “Nares’ Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 763, under the heading “Above or Below the Salt,” the writer comments on the invidious distinctions formerly made between guests seated at the same table, and quotes as follows from Ben Jonson’s “Cynthia’s Revels” in reference to a conceited fop:—
His fashion is not to take knowledge of him that is beneath him in clothes; he never drinks below the Salt.
The Innholders Company still adheres to the custom of indicating rank and social position at table by means of a handsome salt-cellar of the time of James I., to which is assigned the responsible function of dividing the Court from the Livery at the Livery dinners; the latter occupying the seats corresponding to those of the retainers in the old-time baron’s hall.[345]
Among the Puritans in New England “the salt-cellar was the focus of the old-time board.” Our ancestors brought with them from beyond the sea, not only the ideas regarding table etiquette prevalent in the old country, but also such tangible vanities as silver plate. Miss Alice Morse Earle, in her book on the “Customs and Fashions of Old New England,” says that the “standing salt” was often the handsomest article of table furniture, and mentions among the belongings of Comfort Starr, of Boston, in 1659, a “greate silver-gilt double salt-cellar.” Early in the eighteenth century these ponderous silver vessels were superseded by the little “trencher salts,” of various patterns, which are still in use.