Edward Spencer

The Flowing Bowl

A Treatise on Drinks of All Kinds and of All Periods, Interspersed with Sundry Anecdotes and Reminiscences
Published by Good Press, 2020
goodpress@okpublishing.info
EAN 4064066093167

Table of Contents


PREFACE
CHAPTER I THE OLD ADAM
CHAPTER II MORE FRIGHTFUL EXAMPLES
CHAPTER III DRINKS ANCIENT AND MODERN
Kokemaar .
Mead ,
Metheglin
Mead and Braggon, or Braggonet ,
Sack ?”
Sack Posset
English Sack ,
To make Usquebaugh.
Clary Wine .
Apricock Wine ,
CHAPTER IV SOME OLD RECIPES
White Bastard
Mum
English Champagne .
Ebulum .
Cock Ale .
Muskadine
Lemon Wine ,
Barley Wine
King William’s Posset .
To make the Pope’s Posset.
Frontiniac Wine
Renish Wine ,
CHAPTER V GLORIOUS BEER
Brewing of Strong Ale ,
To make Strong Beer
Beer Soup.
Ale Cup (Cold) .
Ale Flip (Hot) .
Ale Posset (Hot) .
Mulled Ale (Very Hot) .
Wassail, or Swig (Cold) ,
Brown Betty
Ale Flip
Rumfustian.
Mother-in-law ,
Uncle ,
Small Lem and a Dash ,
Brasenose Ale
CHAPTER VI ALL ALE
Bass
Brewing of Bottle-Ale .
CHAPTER VII A SPIRITUOUS DISCOURSE
CHAPTER VIII OTHER SPIRITS
Rum Booze.
CHAPTER IX CUPS WHICH CHEER
Donald’s Cup.
Badminton .
Balaclava Cup.
Another Claret Cup.
Yet Another.
One More ,
My Ideal Claret Cup.
“For’ard On” Cup.
Cider Cup, or Cold Tankard.
Perry Cup
Crimean Cup.
Orgeat.
Race-day Cup.
Loving Cup.
Rochester
Champagne Cup
Chablis Cup.
Red Cup
Freemason.
Porter Cup.
Tennis Cup.
CHAPTER X PUNCH
“ English Punch ,”
Glasgow Punch ,
Oxford Punch or Classical Sherbet
Capillaire ,
Noyeau Punch .
Gin Punch .
Milk Punch .
Restorative Punch.
Almond Punch.
Egg Punch.
Shrub Punch ,
Rack Punch
Vauxhall Punch
Uncle Toby.
Victoria Punch.
Yorkshire Punch.
Champagne Punch.
Halo Punch ,
CHAPTER XI STRANGE SWALLOWS
Absinthe
Arrack.
Bhang ,
Saké ,
Vodka
Plain Water ,
The Original Intoxicant
Chi Chi ,
Kafta ,
CHAPTER XII “THE BOY”
CHAPTER: XIII THE OLD WINES AND THE NEW
Bishop ,
Vintages.
CHAPTER XIV THE LONG AND THE SHORT OF IT
Catawba Cobbler ,
Moselle Cobbler.
“ Hatfield ,”
Saratoga Cocktail.
Arctic Regions.
Brandy-and-Soda.
Brandy Daisy.
Bull’s Milk
Julap, or Julep.
Mint Julep .
Pine-apple Julep.
Saratoga Brace-up.
A Burglar’s Brew.
Cocktails ,
Brandy Cocktail.
Champagne Cocktail.
Coomassie Cocktail.
Jersey Cocktail.
Manhattan Cocktail.
Bengal Cocktail.
Newport Cocktail.
Gin Cocktail.
A “Swizzle,”
Martini Cocktail.
Sherry Cocktail
Sunrise Cocktail
Jockey-Club Cocktail
Whisky Cocktail
Knickerbein ,
L’Amour Poussée ,
Brandy Scaffa
Corpse Reviver
Golden Slipper
Heap of Comfort.
CHAPTER XV STILL HARPING ON THE DRINK
Ale Sangaree.
Brandy Sangaree.
Gin Sangaree
Port Wine Sangaree.
Porteree
Sherry Sangaree
Slings
John Collins ,
Brandy Smash.
Champagne Smash.
Gin Smash.
Whisky Smash
Santa Cruz Smash.
Apple Jack Sour
Bourbon Sour.
Brandy Sour
Whisky Sour
Gin Sour
Sherry Sour.
Home Ruler
Burning Brandy ,
Prairie Oyster
Turkey Oyster
Port Wine Negus.
Sherry Negus
Egg Nogg
Sherry Egg Nogg
A Doctor ,
A Surgeon-Major ,
Blue Blazer
Locomotive.
Rumfustian.
Pope
Bull’s Milk.
Brandy Champirelle
Black Stripe.
Bosom Caresser.
Colleen Bawn.
White Wine Whey
Pepper Posset.
Cider Posset.
Sack Posset
CHAPTER XVI “APPLE SASS”
Hippocras.
CHAPTER XVII CORDIALS AND LIQUEURS
Cherry Brandy.
Cherry Gin
Cherry Whisky
Sloe Gin.
Highland Cordial.
King Charles II.’s Surfeit-Water .
Ginger Brandy .
Orange-flower Brandy.
Carraway Brandy.
Kümmel .
Anisette .
Apricot Brandy.
Quince Whisky.
Orange Brandy
The Saffron Cordial ,
Curaçoa
Cassis ,
Chartreuse.
Twist .
Kirschenwasser.
Noyeau
Parfait Amour
Maraschino .
Ginger Cordial.
CHAPTER XVIII THE AFTERMATH OF REVELRY
“ Against Drunkennesse.
“ To Cure Spleen or Vapours.
The Best Pick-me-up
Anchovy Toast.
Baltimore Egg Nogg
Orange Quinine
Brandy-and-Soda ,
A Scorcher
Brazil Relish.
St. Mark’s Pick-me-up ,
Bitters
Devilled Biscuit
CHAPTER XIX THE DRINKS OF DICKENS
CHAPTER XX SWORN OFF!
A Superior Lemon Squash.
Almond Comfy.
Temperance Cider.
Drink for Dog Days ,
Citron de Luxe .
Cherry Cobbler
D. D.
Raspberry Squash.
Raspberry Vinegar.
Elderberry Punch.
Cold Spring-water
INDEX OF RECIPES
"

PREFACE

Table of Contents

I claim no merit for the following pages, other than may attach to in­dus­try, appli­ca­tion, the gift of copying accurately, and the acqui­si­tion of writer’s cramp. The mechan­i­cal writ­ing is—to the great joy of the com­pos­i­tors who have dealt with it—every let­ter mine own; but the best part of the book has been conveyed from other sources. In fact the book is, as the old lady said of the divine tragedy of Hamlet, “full of quotations.” The hand is the hand of Gubbins, but the voice is, for the most part, the voice of the great ones of the past, including Pliny and Gervase Markham. The matter, or most of it—I am endeavouring to drive the fact home—is culled from other sources; and if this is the most useful and inter­est­ing work ever pub­lished it is more my for­tune than my fault.

The genial reception of my earlier effort, Cakes and Ale—which was condemned only by worshippers of Ala, who were not expected to applaud—together with the hope of earning something towards the purchase of a Bath Chair—have induced me to issue this little treatise on liquids, as a companion to my first cloth-bound book. And innate modesty—I stick to “innate,” despite the critics—compels me to add that I think the last is the better work. I will, however, leave a generous and discriminating public to decide that question for itself.

LONDON, CHRISTMAS EVE, 1898.

CHAPTER I THE OLD ADAM–10 Introductory—Awful habits of the ancients—A bold, bad book—Seneca on the Drink Habit—The bow must not be always strung—— The noble Romans—“Dum vivimus vivamus”—The skeleton at the banquet—Skull-cups—“Life and wine are the same thing”—Virgil and his contemporaries—Goats for Bacchus—The days of Pliny—Rewards for drunkenness—Novellius Torquatus—Three gallons at a draught—A swallow which did not save Rome—The antiquity of getting for’ard—Noah as a grape-grower—Father Frassen’s ideas—Procopius of Gaza—New Testament wine—Fermented or not?—Bad old Early Christians—Drunkenness common in Africa—Religion a cloak for alcohol—Tertullian on cider—Paulinus excuses intemperance—Excellence of Early Christians’ intentions CHAPTER II MORE FRIGHTFUL EXAMPLES–21 Eating and drinking the only work of the monks—Nunc est bibendum—An apology for Herodotus—A jovial pope—Good quarters in Provence—Intemperance of holy men—A tippling bishop—Alexander the Great—“Lovely Thais sits beside thee”—A big flare-up—Awful end of Alec—Cambyses always shot straight—Darius the strong-of-head—Philip drunk and Philip sober—Dionysius gets blind—Tiberius loved the bowl—So did Flavius Vobiscus, the diplomatist—Bluff King Hal—The Merry Monarch and the Lord Mayor—Dear Old Pepys—A Mansion House wine-list—Minimum allowance of sack—A slump in brandy—A church-tavern—Dean Aldrich—The Romans at supper—“The tippling philosophers” CHAPTER IV SOME OLD RECIPES–47 Indifference of the Chineses—A nasty potion—A nastier—White Bastard—Helping it to be eager—Improving Malmsey—Death of the Duke of Clarence—Mum is the word—English champagne—Life without Ebulum a blank—Cock ale—How to dispose of surplus poultry—Painful fate of a pauper—— Duties of the old English housewife—Election of wines, not golf—Muskadine—Lemon wine—Familiar recipe—King William’s posset—Pope’s ditto CHAPTER V GLORIOUS BEER–60 Nectar on Olympus—Beer and the Bible—“Ninepenny” at Eton—“Number One” Bass—“The wicked weed called hops”—All is not beer that’s bitter—Pathetic story of “Poor Richard”—Secrets of brewing—Gervase Markham—An “espen” full of hops—Eggs in ale—Beer soup—The wassail bowl—Sir Watkin Wynne—Brown Betty—Rumfustian—Mother-in-law—A delightful summer drink—Brasenose ale CHAPTER VI ALL ALE–71 Waste not, want not—The right hand for the froth—Arthur Roberts and Phyllis Broughton—A landlord’s perquisites—Marc Antony and hot coppers—Introduction of ale into Britain—Burton-on-Trent—Formerly a cotton-spinning centre—A few statistics—Michael Thomas Bass—A grand old man—Malting barleys—Porter and stout—Lager beer—Origin of bottled ale—An ancient recipe—Lead-poisoning—The poor man’s beer CHAPTER VII A SPIRITUOUS DISCOURSE–82 What is brandy?—See that you get it—Potato-spirit from the Fatherland—The phylloxera and her ravages—Cognac oil—Natural history of the vine-louse—“Spoofing” the Yanks—Properties of Argol—Brandy from sawdust—Desiccated window-sills—Enormous boom in whisky—Dewar and the trade—Water famine—The serpent Alcohol—Some figures—France the drunken nation, not Britain—Taxing of distilleries—— Fusel oil—Rye whisky—Palm wine—John Exshaw knocked out by John Barleycorn CHAPTER VIII OTHER SPIRITS–90 Old Jamaica pine-apple—“Tots” for Tommy Atkins—The grog tub aboard ship—— Rum-and-milk—Ditto-and-ale—A maddening mixture—Rectifying gin—“The seasoning as does it”—Oil of turpentine and table-salt—A long thirst—A farthing’s worth of Old Tom—Roach-alum—Dirty gin—Gin and bitters—“Kosher” rum—An active and intelligent officer—Gambling propensities of the Israelites—The dice in the tumbler—Nomenclature at “The Olde Cheshyre Cheese”—“Rack”—“Cork” CHAPTER IX CUPS WHICH CHEER–100 Claret combinations—Not too much noyeau—A treat for schoolboys—The properties of borage—“Away with mel­an­choly”—— Balm for vapours—Crimean cup—An elaborate and far-reaching compound—Orgeat—A race-day cup—“Should auld acquaintance be forgot?”—Sparkling Isabella—Rochester’s delight—Freemason’s relish—Porter cup—Dainty drink for a tennis-party CHAPTER X PUNCH–114 Derivation of the word questioned—Not an Asiatic drink—“Pale-punts”—No relation to pale punters—Properties of rum—Toddy as a tonic—Irish punch—Glasgie ditto—O’er muckle cauld watter—One to seven—Hech sirs!—Classical sherbet—Virtues of the feet of calves—West India dry gripes—Make your own punch—No deputy allowed—Attraction of capillaire—Gin punch—Eight recipes for milk-punch—University heart-cheerers CHAPTER XI STRANGE SWALLOWS–125 “Wormwood!”—The little green fairy—All right when you know it, but—The hour of absinthe—Awful effects—Marie Corelli—St. John the Divine—Arrack and bhang not to be encouraged—Plain water—The original intoxicant—Sacred beverage of the mild Hindu—Chi Chi—Kafta, an Arabian delight—Friends as whisky agents—Effervescent Glenlivet—The peat-reek—American bar-keeper and his best customer—“Like swallerin’ a circ’lar saw and pullin’ it up again”—Castor-oil anecdote—“Haste to the wedding!” CHAPTER XII “THE BOY”–136 Definition of the youth—The valley of the Marne—An Archbishop in sparkling company—All is not cham. that fizzes—Beneficial effects of Pommery—Dire memories of the Haymarket—The bad boy at York—A hair of the canine—The good boy—Gout defied—Old Roman cellars—A chronic bombardment—Magnums to right of ’em—Duties of the disgorger—Simon the cellarer—Fifteen millions of full bottles—Pro-dig-i-ous!—Gooseberry champagne a myth—About Médoc—The ancients spelt claret with two “r’s”—Hints on adulteration—“Château Gubbins”—New wine—Gladstone claret—“Pricked!” CHAPTER XIII THE OLD WINES AND THE NEW–148 Decline and fall of port—Old topers—A youthful wine-bibber—The whisky age succeeds the port age—“Jeropiga”—Landladies’ port—A monopoly—Port gout—A quaint breakfast in Reading—About nightcaps—Sherry an absolutely pure wine—Except when made within the four miles’ radius—Treading the grapes—“Yeso”—Pliny pops up again—“Lime in the sack”—What the says—“Old Sherry”—of a General—About vintages CHAPTER XIV THE LONG AND THE SHORT OF IT–161 The Long Drink—Cremorne Gardens—Hatfield—Assorted cocktails—Brandy-and-Soda—Otherwise Stone Fence—Bull’s milk—A burglar’s brew—More cocktails—A “swizzle”—L’Amour Poussée—A corpse reviver—A golden slipper—A heap of comfort CHAPTER XV STILL HARPING ON THE DRINK–173 Sangaree—Slings—John Collins—Smashes—Sour beverages—Home Ruler—Burning brandy—A prairie oyster—A turkey ditto—About negus, for white-frock and black-mitten parties—Egg nogg—A doctor—A surgeon-major—A new locomotive—Rumfustian—Pope—Bull’s milk—A bosom caresser—The Colleen Bawn—Possets—Sir Fleetwood Fletcher CHAPTER XVI “APPLE SASS”–184 Ancient British seider—Conducive to longevity—The best made in Normandy—Which develops into champagne—And other popular and salubrious wines—Non-alcoholic cider—A loathsome brew—German man­u­fac­turers—Medical properties of apple juice—Away with mel­an­choly—The mill and the press—Pure wine—Norfolk cider—Gaymer’s gout-fuge—Revival of the industry—Old process of cider-making—Improving the flavour—Boiled cider—Hippocras—Juniper cider—An ancient cider-cup CHAPTER XVII CORDIALS AND LIQUEURS–197 A chat about cherry brandy—Cherry gin—And cherry whisky—Sloe gin—Highland cordial—What King Charles II. swallowed—Poor Charles!—Ginger brandy—Orange-flower brandy—Employment of carraway seeds—The school treat—Use and abuse of aniseed—Do not drink quince whisky—Try orange brandy instead—A hell-broth—Curaçoa—Cassis—Chartreuse—The monks as benefactors—Some quaint tavern “refreshers”—Kirschenwasser—Noyeau—Parfait amour—Maraschino—A valuable ginger cordial CHAPTER XVIII THE AFTERMATH OF REVELRY–210 Revelry means remorse—And “Katzenjammer”—And other things—Why will ye do it?—The devil in solution—Alcoholism a disease—An accountant on wires—A jumpy journalist—A lot of jolly dogs—What is “Langdebeefe”?—To cure spleen or vapours—Directly opposite effects of alcohol—The best pick-me-up in the world—An anchovy toast—Baltimore egg nogg—Orange quinine—About brandy and soda-water—A Scorcher—Brazil relish—St. Mark’s pick-me-up—A champion bitters—A devilled biscuit—Restorative sandwiches—Fresh air and exercise best of all—Stick to your nerve! CHAPTER XIX THE DRINKS OF DICKENS–226 The lesson taught by “Boz”—Clothing Christmas—Dickens’s drunkards—Fantastic names for ales—Robbing a boy of his beer—A school supper—Poor Traddles—Micawber and punch—Revelry at Pecksniff’s—Todgers’s “doing it”—Delights of the “Dragon”—Sairey Gamp’s requirements—What was in the teapot—The “Maypole”—Sydney Carton’s hopeless case—Stryver’s model—“ is Deed nonsense”—Dear old Crummles—A magnum of the Double Diamond—Newman Noggs—Brandy before breakfast—Mr. Fagin’s pupils—Orange-peel and water—Quilp on fire—“Pass the rosy”—Harold Skimpole—Joey Bagstock—Brandy-and-tar-water—That ass Pumblechook—An inexhaustible bottle—Jaggers’s luncheon—Pickwick v. total abstinence—Everything an excuse for a dram—Brandy and oysters—“The inwariable”—Milk-punch—Charm of the CHAPTER XX SWORN OFF!–237 Introduction of temperance into England—America struck it first—Doctor Johnson an abstainer—Collapse of the Permissive Bill—Human nature and forbidden fruit—Effects of repressive legislation—Sunday closing in Wales—Paraffin for miners—Toasting her Majesty—A good win—A shout and a drink—Jesuitical logic of the prohibitioners—The end justifies the means—A few non-alcoholic recipes—Abstainers and alcohol—Pure spring-water milk-punch—“Tried baith!” INDEX OF RECIPES–243

CHAPTER I THE OLD ADAM

Table of Contents
Introductory—Awful habits of the ancients—A bold, bad book—Seneca on the Drink Habit—The bow must not be always strung—Ebrietatis Encomium—The noble Romans—“Dum vivimus vivamus”—The skeleton at the banquet—Skull-cups—“Life and wine are the same thing”—Virgil and his contemporaries—Goats for Bacchus—The days of Pliny—Rewards for drunkenness—Novellius Torquatus—Three gallons at a draught—A swallow which did not save Rome—The antiquity of getting for’ard—Noah as a grape-grower—Father Frassen’s ideas—Procopius of Gaza—New Testament wine—Fermented or not?—Bad old Early Christians—Drunkenness common in Africa—Religion a cloak for alcohol—Tertullian on cider—Paulinus excuses intemperance—Excellence of Early Christians’ intentions.

I wish to state at the outset that this little work is not compiled in the interests of the sot, the toper, and the habitual over-estimator of his swallowing capacity. That the gifts of the gods, and the concoctions of more or less vile man, should be used with moderation, if we wish to really and thoroughly enjoy them, is a truism which needs no repetition; and although at the commencement of this work many “frightful {2} examples” of the evils of over-indulgence will be found mentioned, nothing but moderation will be found counselled in my book, from cover to cover.

In the past, drunkenness was not always regarded as a vice, and this is evident from much of the literature of former generations. In the course of my researches into the alcohol question I have come across a little book which bears the shameful and abandoned title of Ebrietatis Encomium, or the Praise of Drunkenness. And this book, which conveys such questionably moral aphorisms as “It is good for one’s health to be drunk occasionally,” and “The truly happy are the truly intoxicated,” claims to prove, “most authentically and most evidently, the necessity of frequently getting drunk, and that the practice is most ancient, primitive, and catholic.”

The author commences with what he calls “a beautiful passage out of Seneca:—

“The soul must not be always bent: one must sometimes allow it a little pleasure. Socrates was not ashamed to pass the time with children. Cato enjoyed himself in drinking plentifully, when his mind had been too much wearied out in public affairs. Scipio knew very well how to move that body, so much inured to wars and triumphs, without breaking it, as some nowadays do … ; but as people did in past times, who would make themselves merry on their festivals, by leading a dance really worthy men of those days, whence could ensue no reproach, when even their very enemies had seen them dance. One must allow the mind {3} some recreation: it makes it more gay and peaceful. … Assiduity of labour begets a languor and bluntness of the mind: for sleep is very necessary to refresh us, and yet he that would do nothing else but sleep night and day would be a dead man, and no more. There is a great deal of difference between loosening a thing, and quite unravelling it. Those who made laws have instituted holidays, to oblige people to appear at public rejoicings, in order to mingle with their cares a necessary temperament. … You must sometimes walk in the open air, that the mind may exalt itself by seeing the heavens, and breathing the air at your ease; sometimes take the air in your chariot, the roads and the change of the country will re-establish you in your vigour; or you may eat and drink a little more plentifully than usual. Sometimes one must even go as far as to get drunk; not indeed with an intention to drown ourselves in wine, but to drown our care. For wine drives away sorrow and care, and goes and fetches them up from the bottom of the soul. And as drunkenness cures some distempers, so, in like manner, it is a sovereign remedy for our sorrows” (Seneca de Tranquillitate).

Such sentiments were doubtless popular enough in Great Britain at the commencement of the present century—when Ebrietatis Encomium was published—when three and four bottle-men slept where they fell, “repugnant to command”; and malt liquor, small or strong, was the only known matutinal restorative of manly vigour. But my own experience is that {4} the sorrow and care which may be temporarily driven away by drowning them in the bowl are apt to return within a very few hours, reinforced an hundredfold, with their weapons re-sharpened, their instruments of torture put in thorough working-order, and with many other devils worse than themselves. A man, sound in body and mind, may really enjoy a certain amount of good liquor without feeling any ill effects next morning; but woe to him who seeks to drown that which cannot sink; to crush the worm which knows not death! The individual has yet to be born who can flourish, either in body or soul, on his own immoderation; and but for a chronic state of thirst in early youth I should not now be reduced to the compilation of drink statistics for a living.

But the ancients, in their heathen philosophy—which, by the way, was once rec­om­mend­ed to Christians to follow—took no thought for the morrow. “Carpe diem!” was the head and front of the programme of the Roman patricians, who used to cry aloud at their feasts, by way of grace before meat:—

AMICI,
DUM VIVIMUS
VIVAMUS!

This was probably the original version of “We won’t go home till morning,” and was sung, or shouted, at all bean-feasts and smart supper-parties. The ancient Egyptians made use of a very extraordinary, and a very nasty, custom in their festivals. They shewed to every guest a {5} skeleton, before the soup was served. This, according to some historians, was to make the feasters think on their latter end. But others assert that this strange figure was brought into use for a directly opposite reason; that the image of death was shewn for no other intent than to excite the guests to pass their lives merrily, and to employ the few days of its small duration to the best advantage; as having no other condition to expect after death than that of this frightful skeleton.

This was the idea of one Trimalchion, who, Petronius tells us, thus expressed himself on the subject: “Alas! alas! wretched that we are! What a nothing is poor man! We shall be like this, when Fate shall have snatched us hence. Let us therefore rejoice, and be merry while we are here.” The original Latin of this translation is much stronger, and had better not be given here. And the same Trimalchion on another occasion remarked: “Alas! Wine therefore lives longer than man, let us then sit down and drink bumpers; life and wine are the same thing.”

The Scythians undoubtedly used to drink out of vessels fashioned from human skulls, and probably had the same design in doing so as the Egyptians had in looking on their nasty skeletons.

In Virgil’s time, his contemporaries—and very probably the old man himself—drank deep; but instead of fighting, and breaking things, and jumping on their wives, and getting locked up, they brought their own heathen religion into their debaucheries. In more civilized circles, at this end of the most civilized century, the reveller {6} goes out “to see a man,” and sub­se­quent­ly “shouts for the crowd”; but in Virgil’s time a man who had a drink was said to be “pouring forth libations to the gods,” “making sacrifices”—more especially to Bacchus, the wine deity, whom nothing under the slaughter of a he-goat was supposed to propitiate. And the “Billy” was chosen for the sacrifice, because the tender shoots of the vine formed his favourite food, in a land in which there was neither brown paper, nor wall-plaster, nor salmon-tins, to nibble. And these sacrifices to the rosy god were “occasions” (as they say in the City) indeed! I have often wondered what the ancients did to cure a headache; and whether a man said to be “possessed of a devil” was in reality suffering from Alcohol, “the Devil in solution,” in the shape of delirium tremens in one of its many and objectionable forms.

In the time of Pliny, drunkenness and debauchery appear to have been the principal studies of the nations about whom he had information. A man was actually rewarded for getting drunk—tell it not in Vine Street, W.! The greatest drinker got the most prizes; and Pliny informs us that whilst the Parthians contended for the distinction of having the hardest heads and the longest swallows, they were simply “not in it” with the Milanese, who had a real champion in one Novellius Torquatus. This man, according to history, could have given a market-porter of the present day, a brewer’s drayman, or a stockbroker, any amount of start over the Alcohol course, and “lost” him.

This Novellius won the championship from all {7} pretenders, and “had gone through all honourable degrees of dignity in Rome, wherein the greatest repute he obtained was for drinking in the presence of Tiberius three gallons of wine at one draught, and before he drew his breath again; neither did he rest there, but he so far had acquired the art of drinking, that although he continued at it, yet was never known to falter in his tongue; and were it ne’er so late in the evening he followed this exercise, yet would be ready again for it in the morning. Those large draughts also he drank at one breath, without leaving in the cup so much as would dash against the pavement.”

Ah! We have nobody up to this form to talk about nowadays; and if men have improved in morality they must have deteriorated in capacity, or the occupation of gaolers and warders would be gone. And the poor old poet “Spring Onions,” with even a tenth part of the powers of endurance and swallow of Novellius Torquatus, might have escaped even one solitary conviction.

“If the antiquity of a custom,” writes the author of Ebrietatis Encomium, “makes it always good and laudable, certainly drunkenness can never deserve sufficient recommendation. Every one knows that Noah got drunk after he had planted the vine. There are some who pretend to excuse him, that he was not acquainted with the strength of wine. But to this it may very well be answered that it is not very probable so wise a man as Noah should plant a vine without knowing its nature and property. Besides it is one thing to know whether he got drunk at all: and another whether he had an intention to do so.” {8}

The amount of water previously experienced by Noah should surely be sufficient to purge him of the offence of making too free with the fruit of the vine!

“But,” continues the laudator of ebriety, “if we give any credit to several learned persons, Noah was not the first man who got fuddled. Father Frassen maintains ‘that people fed on flesh before the Flood, and drank wine.’ There is no likelihood, according to him, that men contented themselves with drinking water for fifteen or sixteen hundred years together. It is much more credible that they prepared a drink more nourishing and palatable. These first men of the world were endued with no less share of wit than their posterity, and consequently wanted no industry to invent everything that might contribute to make them pass their lives agreeably. Before the Flood men married, and gave their children in marriage. These people regaled each other, and made solemn entertainments. Now who can imagine that they drank at those festivals nothing but water, and fed only on fruits and herbs! Noah, therefore, was not the inventor of the use which we make of the grape; the most that he did was only to plant new vines.”

Procopius of Gaza, one of the most ancient and learned interpreters of Scripture, thinks it no less true that the vine was known in the world before Noah’s time; but he does not allow that the use of wine was known before the patriarch, whom he believes to be the inventor of it. As for the wine mentioned in the New Testament, we are now assured by modern commentators—total {9} abstainers every one—that it was unfermented, devoid of alcohol, and non-intoxicating. I had certainly always looked upon the wine which Timothy was enjoined to take for his “stomach’s sake,” as some form of brandy.

The Early Christians—like far too many of the late ditto—were terrible topers. Ecclesiastical history tells us that in the primitive church it was customary to appoint solemn feasts on the festivals of martyrs. This appears by the harangue of Constantine, and from the works of St. Gregory Nazianzen, and St. Chrysostom. Drunkenness was rife at those feasts; and this excess was looked upon as permissible. This is shewn by the pathetic complaints of St. Augustine and St. Cyprian, the former of which holy fathers thus delivered himself:—

“Drunken debauches pass as permitted amongst us, so that people turn them into solemn feasts, to honour the memory of the martyrs; and that not only on those days which are particularly consecrated to them (which would be a deplorable abuse to those who look at those things with other eyes than those of the flesh), but on every day of the year.”

St. Cyprian, in a treatise attributed to him, says much the same thing:—

“Drunkenness is so common with us in Africa that it scarce passes for a crime. And do we not see Christians forcing one another to get drunk, to celebrate the memory of the martyrs?”

Cardinal du Perron told his contemporaries “that the Manichæans said that the Catholicks were people much given to wine, but that they {10} never drank any,” which sounds paradoxical. Against this charge St. Augustine only defends them by recrimination. He answers, “that it was true, but that they (the Manichæans) drank the juice of apples, which was more delicious than all the wines and liquors in the world.” And so does Tertullian, who said the liquor press’d from apples was most strong and vinous. His words are: “Succum ex pomis vinosissimum.”

I trust that in quoting all those things I am not becoming wearisome, at the very commencement of my work; the main object being to show that all the drinking in the world is not done by the present generation of vipers.

But the Early Christians were excused for their habits of soaking, by Paulinus, on the grounds of the “excellence of their intentions”; which naturally reminds us of the celebrated excuse of the late Monsieur Thiers, on a much later occasion. The words of Paulinus are, when translated and adapted:—

But yet that mirth in little feasts enjoy’d
I think should ready absolution find;
Slight peccadillo of an erring mind,
Artless and rude, of all disguises void,
Their simple hearts too easy to believe
(Conscious of nothing ill) that saints in tombs
Enshrin’d should any happiness perceive
From quaffing cups, and wines’ ascending fumes,
Must be excus’d, since what they did they meant
With piety ill plac’d, yet good intent.

Similar pleas are occasionally urged by roysterers nowadays, yet they are but seldom credited in their own parishes.