sth eth SR Stee yah ialed Pere tile A) ea Hh HN fi nh { UN)\) y) yi | WEA THE First MEETING OF THE HERMIT AND THE TRAVELLER, BOOD COOKERY: .. iS ILLUSTRATED. on AND RECIPES COMMUNICATED BY THE WELSH HERMIT SS OF THE. CELL OF ST. GOVER, vad i (gia WITH VARIOUS REMARKS ON MANY THINGS PAST AND PRESENT, BY THE RIGHT HON. LADY LLANOVER. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, Publisher iv Ordinary to Her Majesty. 1867. “ Tywypned qraienpn, ct ran.’ The grain of sand has its portion of the beach. CONTENTS. PAGE INTRODUCTION . : ek ‘ ey 1X THE FIRST PRINCIPLES OF Goop COOKERY. I—288 THE TRAVELLER’S NOTE BOOK. PAGE PAGE To the Editor of a ee Fattening of Cattle . 314 Pech es < . ~209 1 Water’ Fountains 3.0. . 324 Poor Laws . .. . . . 295 | Holly—Mistletoe—Ivy . . 333 miei. «> «Cs 305 :| Roads, Hedges, and Banks 336 DishofrFrogs . . ... . 307 | Walk Flowers : - 343 Dish of Marrow . . . . 307 | Sheep’s Milk . 345 feeOntges . 4. . «s.» 308: | Goats , . 349 Dish of Curds . . . 308 ; Feathers . . 351 Dish of Eggs for a weak Moles . -1355 Stomach . . a em TO | Dees.) ee. 5 le 0357 Peeeecter a. ss 431K} London .2. 6G.) % e375 Re atny WAV) fi os 5 313 APPENDIX. Boiled Fowl. . . 381 | Stewed Beef 5 307 Parsley Sauce for Boiled Hashed Mutton . 389 Fowl . - 363 | Simple White Soup . . . 390 Fricaseed Cold Chicken . 384 | The White Soup of Gover , 391 Roast Leg of Mutton . . 386 | The Hermit’s Gravy Soup . 392 Jelly from the Bones of Hashed Mutton PEORS) » 394 Roast Legs of Welsh Mutton Pie . . ‘ » 395 Mutton .. . 387 | Pea-Soup (Winter) Bes hf v1 Contents. PAGE Green Pea-Soup (Summer) 398 Beef-Steak i 2300) To Preserve Game or Poultry, or any sort of Meat, when required to be kept long before it is eaten -. « 400 Baked Fillet of Veal . . 401 Tongue Boiled . . 402 Tongue Roasted » 403 Hermit’s Rabbit Fricasee » 404 Hermit’s Boiled Shoulder OLeMttOn ie 2 estan ae ee Onion Sauce for Boiled Shoulder of Mutton 405 Hermit’s Sausages ‘ . 406 The Hermit’s Cold Veal Pie 407 Sorbuckis.. © . 408 Green Pea-Soup . sels . 408 Root of Tongue Soup . 409 To Clarify Fat . . 410 Bread Sauce A412 The Hermit’s Marrow-Bones 412 The Hermit’s Soup for Poor Peoples... 4 WAT The Hermit’s Sheep’ s-Head rota ts . 414 Hermit’s Chicken Boiled in ajug . ogres Minced Veal - 415 Haricot of Mutton . 416 Lobster Sauce . 418 Shrimp Sauce. . 419 South Wales Salmon. ¢ 1s ZO Preservation of Jelly Stocks for Soups in Summer and Winters, aes ee Welsh Mutton Chops 423 Boiled Mogs.y oo: 424 Baked Apple Dumplings 424. Granville Fish Sauce 425 Meagre Soup . 426 Salt Beef . 427 Tongues, To Salt. . 429 Fresh Pork, To Dress . . 430 Hams, To Cure 432 PPA Vita, f¢ ie ~ 433 PAGE Pickle for Brave ats . 434 Tapioca Pudding for Chil- dren or Invalids ~ 434 Rice Pudding . where he resided. He was one day sitting by the side of the limpid spring which rose out of the ground near the door of his rocky abode, * Gover, Hénwg, and Gwarwg ; the three primitive saints of Gwent. B 2 The First Principles when a traveller approached, and asked him if he would allow his horse to graze for a short time upon the tempting herbage which he saw around him, while he himself rested awhile by - the well of sparkling water and quenched his thirst. Elidr Gwyn, with the courtesy which dis- tinguished his race, bade him welcome, and after the steed of the Traveller had been tethered at a little distance, entered into con- versation with his new friend. ““ You have ridden far, my son,” said he, “‘and no doubt you can give me tidings of what has been passing in England and Wales as well as in the distant quarters of the globe for the last fifty years. I am myself ninety- three years old at least, but my own impression — is that I am much older. I have no written record of my birth, and I sometimes think that I might rival in longevity the Salmon of Llyn Llyfon, the Ouzel of Cilgwri, the Toad of Mochnant bog, and the Owl of Cwm Cawlwyd, so celebrated in our ancient MSS,” ‘“ Who were those illustrious characters of of Good Cookery. 3 whom you speak?” said the Traveller: thus exposed to burning heat, were perfectly good for culinary uses. The Traveller said he knew that where per- quisites were allowed, fat was taken by the cooks, and sold for their own benefit. The Hermit simply remarked, that those who permitted this to be done, were guilty of two sins; the first, wilful extravagance in housekeeping, and thereby robbery of the poor; the second, tempting a servant to dishonesty, by allowing a direct advantage to result from the neglecting of the first duty of her office, which was to make the most of everything under her care, for the benefit of her employers, or the good of her fellow-creatures ; and having discovered that the Traveller was a good arith- metician, he gave him a small account to cast up, of the number of pounds of fat, which in the course of twelve months the Welsh widow had sold for him; by which his friend dis- Ke2 132 Seek Hee Principles covered to his surprise, that he had had not merely shillings, but many pounds’ value, with which to assist the poor in other ways. The Traveller said that it appeared to him that the Hermit was practically charitable, and that he evidently himself saved to give; but that as he was also the dispenser of charity for another benevolent individual, and that he would esteem it a favour, as he was now be- coming more alive to the requirements of others, if he would let him see the soup made for the poor, about which he had seen him engaged in superintending the widows twice each week, at which times he had purposely withdrawn himself from the recollection that their compact did not entitle him to pry into that department. The Hermit expressed his satisfaction that such a desire had been enkindled in his mind, and assured him that he had purposely refrained from inviting his companionship and assistance, from the belief that he would not take any interest in what did not immediately concern himself personally. of Good Cookery. 1 3.2 The Traveller coloured, from the conscious- ness that such would have been the case a short time before, and the next morning he engaged himself to be the Hermit’s scholar in preparing soup for the poor.” ‘It has already been stated that the Hermit had a very extensive and well-stored garden; containing vegetables of all descriptions—such a kitchen-garden as is to be met with in the general average of gentlemen’s houses. The host and the visitor were followed by the widows, provided with baskets; the Hermit filled the baskets with the stalks and leaves of celery, carrots, onions, leeks, parsnips, and a few potatoes, and cabbage-leaves. On their return, these were all washed and chopped very small, while the water which had boiled half a round of beef the day before was being warmed in a large double vessel, The Hermit informed his friend that he never kept his half- rounds of beef in salt more than six days, and sometimes not more than five, by which means the flavour of the beef was very superior, and * See Appendix No. XXIV. 134 The First Principles the water in which it was boiled was not salted like brine, but retained some flavour of the meat, and was consequently more nutritious. The widows then fried several soup-plates full of all the vegetables they had chopped, in a single saucepan, for ten minutes, with clarified fat; they then added oatmeal, and stirred it rapidly for five minutes more, and put the whole mass into the hot beef liquor, which, after stewing for some time in its double vessel, was converted into a very savoury soup; the oatmeal and vegetables having given flavour, and consistency, and counterbalanced any over- plus of salt in the beef liquor ; moreover, it was not the least greasy, because the fat that had been used had been previously entirely absorbed by the vegetables and oatmeal, and the Hermit called his friend’s attention to the undeniable amount of additional nourishment, produced by this method of incorporating a certain quantity of pure fat in the manner which had been just exemplified. The Traveller inquired what the Hermit of Good Cookery. £35 gave the poor when he did not boil half a round of beef. ** On some occasions,” said he, ‘ of Good Cookery. IgI were now the fashion; and though not taken in a degree to obscure the intellect, they were yet taken sufficiently, and in such variety as, to interfere constantly with the digestive powers. That our ancestors also took very considerable exercise, which, with the early hours that they kept, counteracted, in a great measure, the ill- effects of occasional excess; but that, in the present day, according to the Traveller’s ac- count, “the candle was lighted at both ends ;” and it was, therefore, not wonderful if health was consumed in half the time. The Hermit said he could produce other reasons, drawn from the Traveller’s own com- munications with respect to nursery manage- ment in the present age—as he had favoured him with an account of the system pursued in the families of some of his friends,—which was so very different from his own experience more than eighty years ago, of which he had a perfect recollection, as well as his good mother’s and grandmother’s conversation on the subject ; so that he did not at all wonder that, in the course of two or three generations, there was a 192 The First Principles gradual and regular decline of the strength of constitution. | ‘“«'To what do you particularly allude?” said the Traveller; ‘for I have related many things to you.” ‘¢ T allude,” said the Hermit 4 @testhesde- scription you gave me of the manner in which your nephews and nieces were reared, which certainly was very different to the system pur- sued with my brothers and sister.” ‘“‘ Had you any brothers and a sister?” said the Traveller. ‘I always fancied you were the only one of your race.” ‘‘T had one sister and two brothers,” re- joined the Hermit, ‘‘ all younger than myself; but, unhappily, my two brothers were killed in the wars, about fifty years ago, and my sister was drowned, the ship being lost in a storm at sea, returning from Ireland, after the death of her husband.” «Which part of the system did you consider so very different, which I related to you,” said the Traveller, ‘« from the customs of the last century ?” |S Seema of Good Cookery. 193 «The especial points,” said the Hermit, *«* which I consider would have an increasingly bad influence on the health of each succeeding generation, are as follows :—1st. According to your account, children are now (though sup- posed to be under the eye and direction of their mother) in reality under the entire management of the nurse, they live the greater part of their time in the nursery, are taken out, at stated hours, for formal walks, but know not what it is to wet their feet, the girls being always in half-boots and hoops,* which, in a high wind, must make them as awkward and uncomfort- able as a hen in a storm. We, on the con-. trary, though probably less expensively, were less awkwardly attired, and, deprived of many of the luxuries you describe, were nursed in cottages, which, of course, were selected as belonging to the most cleanly and respectable * Since these pages were written those dangerous and absurd inventions have nearly disappeared in good society, but are still to be seen on children ; and trains have increased, and are perilous to those who wear them and those who tread upon them. O 194 The First Principles tenants on the estate; in fact, in those days, a great part of the cottage’ or farm tenants were old servants. In these cottages we had air and exercise, and freedom of limb; and although our parents visited us constantly, and we were also brought to the house to see them, we re- mained till three or four years old, without a thought or a care beyond the interests of the poultry and other animals that surrounded us, being constantly in the open air, and clad ac- cordingly; by which means a store of health was laid in, instead of a store of ailments, long before we knew there was such a thing in the world as an alphabet. And from the time we returned to be inmates of the paternal roof, our brains were not oppressed by learning, and by very slow degrees we were taught to read, write, and spell, while the habits, acquired in the cottage, of activity and out-door amuse- ment continued; the great change in our existence being the necessity for learning draw- ing-room behaviour, and being in full-dress on certain occasions, when we were under very strict drill. But how is it possible for children of Good Cookery. 195 to be generally healthy, and enjoy vigour in youth, health in middle life, or retain any energy in old age, if their first years are spent chiefly in a nursery upstairs, and their exercise taken in half-boots and hoops?” ‘«“What is your objection to boots?” said the Traveller. ‘‘ Hoops, and all their kindred crinolines, are universally condemned, though still continued, but I thought boots for females were considered very useful for strengthening the ancles.” ** What is the proof of strong ancles?” said the Hermit. The Traveller perfectly well knew what to answer, but he would not commit himself, that he might not hasten his own defeat. The Hermit was therefore obliged to reply for himself. ‘‘ Walking,” said he, ‘‘is the use for which feet and ancles were made. Are _the ladies of the present day particularly good walkers? ”’ “Particularly the reverse,” said the Tra- veller. ‘‘ There are, of course, exceptions everywhere, but, on the whole, the women O.2 196 The First Principles of the present day in Great Britain walk re- markably ill, which I have attributed to their dreadful iron hoops, or cages, or crinolines, which are now so common, that they have positively become a public offence, and ought, in my opinion, to be put down by Act of | Parliament as nuisances. Deaths are con- stantly occurring by fire, as well as broken legs, from these most senseless articles of apparel, and there is no doubt that the art of walking (if art it be), viz. the power of action and movement by carrying the body onward with convenience and comfort to the individual, and with grace to the beholder, is at present unknown, except in some remote, happy, and. secluded corners, where there are peasants who still carry baskets and pails on their heads, and where this most miserable mania has not been adopted; but I do not myself see any objection to children being always in half-boots, which are said to strengthen the ancles.” ‘““Many things are ‘sazd,” replied the Hermit, ‘‘ which a little sensible investigation would prove to be unfounded. Only for one of Good Cookery. 197 moment, I pray you, use your own understanding, and you will see that it is impossible that boots can strengthen -the ancles, although they may supply the place of bone and muscle, when it is wanting, owing to some natural defect, or unfortunate accident. What would any rational person say to a proposal to enclose the arms of children or young people in a tightly-laced sleéve of hard materials, whenever the hands and arms were required to be in full action? | Exactly the same principle applies to the ancles, which, to be strong and capable of their work, ought zo¢ to be bound up by ligatures, which prevent the supple actions of the muscles, retard circulation, and often occasion habitual cold feet; they also render the footing un- steady, as the ancle is prevented from bearing its proper share in the movement of the body, and you may depend upon it that the bad walking you complain of as being so general, commenced before the cages—hoops—and crinolines, which you say are of compara- tively recent date, and the ladies of the last century were remarkable for their graceful 198 The First Principles carriage in walking, and their firm and elastic step.” : ‘«¢ T wish one of them would re-appear,” said the Traveller, “ to show the present generation what good walking means; for though I well know what it is, I could not describe it in words.” ‘‘My grandmother’s definition of good walking,” said the Hermit, ‘‘and what my sister was always told to aim at, was, that her body should be erect, and move forward like a column on wheels, the feet carrying it on in such a manner, that those who met or followed should not be able to perceive the slightest approach to that waddling gait, which is so exactly exemplified by the duck.” “It appears to me,” said the Traveller, ‘ that the ducks are the models of the female walkers of the present day, or vice versa, excepting that the good duck would be much maligned if she were accused of taking pattern by them, as, however waddling her gait, she never soils her feathers by sweeping the ground; while the majority of females of the nineteenth century of Good Cookery. 199 sweep up the dirty ground behind, while they brush the hedges on both sides at once: but let me ask you, whether your grandmother did not wear a hoop?” ieone, cettainly did,’* said the Hermit, ‘when in full dress, but her active morning avocations were never incommoded by that inconvenient attire ; and it was the rule of her house that no female servant should ever wear a hoop, which was considered a dress of cere- mony, inconvenient and objectionable, very pro- perly confined to a certain class, and only worn by them at certain times and seasons of formal appearance. It must also be remembered, that petticoats were never in those days lower than the ancle, and consequently neither endangered the safety of the wearer, nor entangled the legs of others.” * During the following evening ramble, the Traveller expressed his surprise at seeing a woman milking the Hermit’s Welsh ewes, * And when not borne in ceremony by pages on court fes- tivals, were looped up, or drawn through the pocket-hole, or carried over the arm. 200 The First Principles which were all black. He asked whether all Welsh sheep were black, and was informed — that there were many more white than black, but that the mutton of each was equally fine, and the milk equally good for cheese, though, in consequence of the non-encouragement, or rather the discouragement, of the old native Welsh cloth, and of hand-knit stockings, black wool was now sold in some places at a lower price than white; whereas, formerly black (very justly) always bore a higher price, in conse- quence of its superior value for stockings, and home-spun cloth, which, requiring no dye, was much more durable, and the tint of which could be made less intense, where desired, by mixing white wool with it. The Traveller had never heard of milking sheep in England, and when the Hermit had said, soon after his arrival, that the excellent cheese they had at dinner owed its superiority to a considerable proportion of sheep’s milk mixed with that of the cows, his guest did not believe him, and really thought, as he after- wards related, he was playing the same trick 3 of Good Cookery. 201 _ that he recollected had been played by a mis- chievous young Irish lady, who persuaded an old woman that in Ireland they milked Cats, which, she being credulous enough to believe, was laughed at to the end of her life. On the present occasion, the Hermit was too well bred to comment on his guest’s evidently continued incredulity, with respect to the pur- pose to which his sheep’s milk was applied, although he saw a fine pail of milk carried away, the produce of the beautiful flock of ewes. It appeared to the Traveller very strange, that if the cheese was so superior, a practice so easy of imitation should not be generally known and adopted in England. They after- wards visited a Welsh weaver, where the wool of the Hermit’s flock was woven. This Welsh mountain weaver had a water-wheel to work his spinning-jenny and wove with his loom: the manufacture is almost indestructible, and although not of a romantic turn of mind, the Traveller could not help saying to himself, he. - hoped the evils of large manufactories might long be averted from that happy region, where 202 The First Principles a troop of thriving merry children repaired to the weaver’s, from the neighbouring cottages, to pick wool ina healthy atmosphere, for their daily wages; and, after an agreeable walk, returned in the evening, through pure air and fine scenery, as merry and happy as they went. They afterwards visited the Hermit’s pigs. — The Traveller was again much surprised, to find them so thin; not that they appeared at all starved, but had thin figures, such as are occa- sionally seen in pigs belonging to cottagers that range the high roads. A conversation ensued on this subject. ‘The Hermit’s ideas were so completely contrary to those of the present day, that his guest did not subscribe to them, and they returned home mutually dissatisfied with each other. The Hermit had a very large yard for his pigs to range in, and never allowed them to be shut up in a sty, or regularly fatted for killing ; and he actually shuddered when the Traveller described the pigs,and other animals, that he had seen blind from fat, which are common at ‘agricultural shows, and said, that to give prizes of Good Cookery. 203 for excess of fat, and to produce blindness in pigs, by cramming, and privation of air and exer- cise, was, in his opinion, a sign of the decline of the human intellect, and a proof of barbarism or insanity, rather than of intelligence. Although indignant at the Hermit’s obstinate refusal to admit that the excessive feeding of animals was a wonderful art, and that the cul- tivation of any art must prove the progress of the human mind; the Traveller, at length, however, admitted that it was to be regretted that agricultural shows afforded every en- couragement to cramming, and consequently those who could afford to cram obtained the greater number of premiums. The Hermit maintained that the best breeds for symmetry ought to be encouraged, without any artificial fatting, and prizes given to preserve or restore all those races which are specially and variously adapted for different localities, different climates, and, consequently, different pastures. The Traveller, at length, admitted to his host, that the flesh of many prize animals was’ 204. The First Principles of a very inferior quality, and actually yellow, — from the quantity of oil-cake used to produce unnatural and unwholesome obesity ;* and that, although real Welsh mutton was admitted by all epicures, and by medical men, to be the very finest for flavour, and the lightest of digestion of all the breeds of sheep known in Great Britain, very few prizes were ever given for the encouragement and preservation of so invaluable a breed of animals; and that even at Welsh inns, during his last absence, he had been sickened by large coarse mutton, though within a mile of mountains, where the best Welsh. sheep were to be had, and could alone live and flourish. He added that, at private houses, the same complaint may often be made in Wales as well as in London, from whence the rich, nevertheless, send abroad for all sorts of foreign luxuries for their table, on which the best Welsh mutton is seldom or ever found. These facts furnished the Hermit with an additional argument to prove that the Agricul- * See Traveller’s Note Book. — of Good Cookery. 205" tural Shows, which his guest maintained were one of the greatest improvements in the last half-century, were, by his own account, not conducted altogether on principles to corro- borate the correctness of his allegation; and that some of the best native breeds in Great Britain, both cattle and sheep, were suffered to exist without notice or encouragement, and in some instances become EST extinct from the same cause.* The Hermit’s dairy was visited, and he took great pride in showing some of the best breeds of cows in the Principality. There were the * N.B. These pages were written before the outburst of the Cattle Plague. + The Pembroke, or Castle-Martin breed, zs admirable for beef, and they are excellent milkers. The old Pembroke breed, white, with black ears, and remarkably handsome, are becoming extinct, and those that remain are wild from want of care. The Glamorgan cows are magnificent animals,—black, with a white strpie down the tail ; excellent milkers. The Caermarthen cattle are black, very much like the Pem- broke ; also good for milk. In the counties of Brecon and Radnor, the landowners have generally introduced Herefords and Shorthorns, which are inferior, in many respects, to various breeds of the Welsh 206 3 The First Principles small and beautifully formed natives of <‘Mona;” the larger but very valuable cow of Glamorgan (which is fast becoming extinct); the black cows of Pembroke and Caermarthen, very dif- ferent in form, but each having qualities worthy of note. They then visited the Hermit’s arable land, of which he cultivated the quantity necessary to grow roots to support his cattle, his flocks, and his pigs through the winter, and corn enough for his two mountain ponies, his poultry, and all his wild birds, which he described as a beautiful sight in hard weather, when rooks, and wood pigeons, and quantities of small birds came with confidence to receive cattle. Merioneth has a small breed which, if well kept, would prove valuable. In North Wales the Mona breed (Isle of Anglesea) is the best, and is equal, if not superior, by various combined excel- lences, to the larger breeds in Wales, and, like other Welsh - cattle, are very hardy. It is remarkable for its small size, with great symmetry, mild temper, large supply of rich milk, and ability to feed and do well on short pasture, and also to fat with the greatest ease, and for beef it cannot be surpassed. Brittany cows are also excellent, and thrive as well in Wales as their British kinsmen who are natives of the Principality. - of Good Cookery. 207 their expected meal, and all fed together, and repaid him, in summer, by their songs and their destruction of insects. | The Traveller was surprised to see oxen ploughing, which used to be a very common sight, but is now rare. The Hermit said, that he considered oxen by far the best animals for the tillage of land—that when an ox was old it could be killed for food, not so a horse—that their keep was much less expensive, their price much lower, consequently their loss by illness or accident less serious. An argument followed from the Traveller, who spoke with ridicule of cows and heifers drawing light carts, in various parts of Germany, and often bringing the weekly produce of small farmers to market. His host took the part of the Germans vehemently on this point—said there was much practical good sense in the custom, and that he should not be afraid to lay a wager, that a cow, trained from a heifer to draught,—not tasked beyond her strength, but only used to go a moderate distance, with a very light vehicle, walking her natural pace, 208 The First Principles and having food taken with her, could perform light tasks for the benefit of her owner, without the slightest detriment to herself, or diminution of her milk, and provided she was not worked when “ in milking” above three hours in the day, which he contended would be an immense boon to a poor and industrious man, who could not afford to keep both a horse and acow. ‘The Hermit was much interested with the account given by his guest of the manner in which the German cattle in certain districts drew by the /ead instead of the neck, as he said, it had often distressed him to watch his own oxen working in their yokes, as it was evident that the strength of an ox was in its head, and that the meck of an ox was ill-adapted for draught ; which remark caused the Traveller, for the first time, to wonder why that mode of harnessing oxen was not adopted in England? and why the practice of ploughing with oxen was so much disused, as the advantages for those who had limited means to provide animals for draught were so very evident. The Traveller could not, however, throw any ea at ee * of Good Cookery. 209 light upon this subject, but remained convinced that agricultural associations must act solely from experience of practical success, though he could not give any reason for this belief. His host continued of his previous opinion, and repeated that the system of education of the present age must be very defective, as there was scarcely a topic in which the facts mentioned by his friend did not prove that great evils were incurred, and even encouraged, from the want of common reflection—in fact, from the want of observa- tion, with cultivation of the reasoning powers. The Traveller, though very much provoked at the pertinacity of his host, and stoutly deny- ing the correctness of many of his opinions, yet did not confute them, nor could he disprove that it was very much the custom to ridicule every- thing not understood unless introduced by a great name, and as often blindly to extol what was mot any better understood, and which, in some instances, was very inferior to what it was allowed to supersede, and he fully admitted that some of the most valuable breeds of cattle and sheep, best suited to the climate mentioned P 210 The First Principles by the Hermit, and to the short but sweet pas- tures of many parts of Wales and which would also suit various parts of England, are wilfully ignored if not entirely unknown in agricultural exhibitions The Traveller did not defend the unnatural and unwholesome system of fattening cattle for shows, involving farmers in great expense, often deteriorating the meat by rendering the animals diseased, and, in fact, raising a barrier against the exhibition of animals in a natural and wholesome condition; but he did not like to admit that the Scotch aristocracy were the only magnates who, as a body, made it a rule to preserve and encourage annually, by a number of very liberal prizes, the preservation and encouragement of the native breeds of Great Britain, (as far as they were especially identified with Scotland,) having an Agricul- tural Society in which the above national object is always especially supported.* * The Highland and Agricultural Society of Scotland givé prizes for the pure breeds of Ayrshire, Galloway, Angus, Aberdeen, and Highland cattle, as well as for Highland ponies. of Good Cookery. 20% On a later occasion, the Hermit and his guest visited the Hermit’s Welsh ponies, which were grazing in the shade near a picturesque brake, in the centre of a verdant piece of pas- ture land, surrounded by a fine hedge, a great part of which was composed of hollies, birch, and hazels, as well as thorns and beautiful bushes of elder, here and there covered with fine clusters of cream-coloured flowers. In each corner of the field, the Hermit had planted sycamores and beech, which produced a charming shade, being about forty years old, under which his cows were lying down, pro- tected from the heat of the sun. ‘There were also some other trees of more ancient date, oaks, limes, and horse chestnuts. | The Traveller was surprised to, hear the distances these little ponies were in the habit of going, with and for the Hermit, among his poor neighbours in the mountains. He said they never had any corn except when they took a very Jong journey, and then the quantity was small, but they were never restricted in bran. They were always turned out when not used, P 2 212 The First Principles excepting in the very cold and wet weather, when they could not benefit themselves by grazing, but they were allowed a comfortable shed to run into. ~The Hermit was much shocked at the Tra- veller’s account of clipping horses, who in vain tried to convince him that it was humane, and that it tended to prevent their catching cold, because they would otherwise have a thick coat saturated with perspiration when standing in the cold air, but. his host only became more indig- nant, and said, that whoever clipped a horse, could never have studied its natural history ; that nature had provided a very fine undergrowth of fur, as winter approached, to protect him from the inclemency of the cold season, and that to clip that coat off, close to the skin, was really barbarous. In vain the Traveller urged that by depriving the horse of his coat, he was much quicker dried, when coming home in a great heat, but he was unable to refute the Hermit’s arguments, which were to the effect that those persons who choose to keep horses in the highest state of Good Cookery. at 3 of artificial condition, are only the wealthy, to whom expense is of no consequence, and who, therefore, have certainly no need of clipping ; because a horse that is kept up day and night, clothed from the end of August, or the begin- ning of September, to the following May or June, will never have any winter coat to clip, as nature has so provided that continual warmth brings off the extra hair as fast as it comes on; that, with regard to such horses, there is there- fore no question of such an operation, but for the animals which are kept in a more natural, and therefore more healthy manner, it is much more dangerous to cut off their natural winter clothes, and leave them exposed to every blast, when they are out of doors, than to fear the chance of their catching cold ina stable, by the negligence or idleness of those who ought to rub them down well when they come in hot. The Hermit moreover declared that he had’ more pleasure in looking at the soft long hair of a healthy horse, in a good winter coat, well cleaned, than he should have in contemplating the finest and most shining skin of a furless 214 The First Principles hunter or racer, artificially produced in mid- winter, and that he would undertake, that if statistics were correctly kept, it would be found that unclipped horses had, on an average, much better health than clipped horses, and were much less liable to cold; that, in his day, post-boys, in riding long stages, if violent rain came on, which was likely to continue, always allowed themselves to be wet through, Jdefore they put on their great coats, which had the effect of a comfortable steam bath; also that with horses, if they were in a sweat in the under-coat, it was a very long time before it reached the upper-coat, and when it did come in contact with the air, it formed a sort of thick paste, which preserved the warmth underneath, and was a great protection against the inward chill of cold atmosphere,—so that, when a horse was brought into a stable in this state, if there was no one at hand, ready or willing to rub him down as they ought to do, yet, by throwing a rug over him, he would be much less likely to take a cold, than the poor creature who, shorn and divested of his natural covering, all of Good Cookery. Pa hs at once, at the very time he most requires it, was obliged to work in the piercing wind, or the chilling rain, whether in a sweat or out of it, without any protection against the effects of the elements.* The conversation then turned upon a very pretty glade in a hollow in the centre of the field, composed of hazels, thorns, and_hollies, alders and elders, in the midst of which there was a spring. The Hermit could not forbear asking the Traveller if he did not think it was a beautiful scene ? <¢T admit,” said his friend, ‘‘ it is beautiful; but the agriculturists of the present day would not, I am afraid, admit that it is beautiful.” ‘“Why not?” said the Hermit. ‘* Does agriculture destroy all taste ? and is it incom- patible for any man with the eye of an artist, or who admires the beauties of nature, to be an agriculturist ? ” ‘The question was never propounded to me before,” said the Traveller. ‘* My experience * See Traveller's Note Book. 216 The First Principles is not very extensive, nor have I studied the subject minutely ; but I should certainly say either that agriculture zs an antidote to all per- ception of the beauties of nature, or e/se that all those to whom Providence has denied the power of perceiving what is beautiful become agriculturists, for I have often mourned over the unnecessary destruction of wood which really causes some of the finest parts of England (or, rather, those parts that used to be considered the most picturesque) now to appear quite bare, burnt up in summer, shelterless in winter, with- out a sprig that a passing horseman could gather from the hedges to put in the bridle of his steed large enough to frighten the flies! without a tree, or only one solitary tree in the centre of a field, mourning for its companions; and when- ever a glade like that before us existed in all its verdant beauty, it has been, to use a common expression, ‘ grubbed up’ by the roots, the hazels of the growth of centuries are chopped up into fire-wood, the beautiful crab trees, the greatest ornament to woodland scenery in spring, the flowers of which are also a feast of Good Cookery. at, for the bees, are undermined by the pickaxes employed by remorseless agriculturists, who cannot bear to see anything growing in a field in the shape of a tree, bush, or shrub, whether it is arable, or whether it is pasture. The wearied creatures wander in vain over acres of unvaried grass, or still more cheerless furrows bounded by miles of so-called hedges, which look more like temporary basket-work than the natural and varied growth of native trees and bushes, which are the natural and legitimate charm of the roadsides of the United Kingdom wherever they are still to be found.” * * The hedges at Eastbourne in Sussex are an honourable exception to the evils above complained of, as well as the banks on which they grow, which are neither pared away nor under- mined, so as not to leave any soil from which they can derive sustenance, but are really what banks ought to be, viz., dut- tresses on each side of the road, a natural and solid foundation of soil and stones, furnishing abundant nourishment for the luxuriant growth of the hedges which surmount them, and which exemplify, in the most undeniable manner, that where good and substantial banks are preserved, hedges w2d/ flourssh, and form a fence, so thick and close that no quadruped can make its way through it, whether the wood of which it is composed is hawthorn, hazel, beech, or other varieties of indi- genous growth; and those persons to whom the care of those highways is consigned, have not only done credit to them 218 The First Principles The Hermit said he deeply regretted to hear of such frightful innovations, which he thanked Heaven had not found their way into his own happy and secluded corner of the Island of Britain. ‘It is melancholy indeed,” re- sumed the Hermit, ‘‘to think that mankind selves, and benefited their district by the discreet preservation of the hedges, but they deserve the thanks of the visitors, as well as the inhabitants of the locality, for the ornament and comfort derived by pedestrians and equestrians, for the shelter thus afforded from the winter winds and from the summer sun. At the same time that the observant public in general must derive advantage from the practical demonstration of a truth which is, unfortunately, so little regarded in many other parts of the United Kingdom, where miles and miles are rendered shelterless and frightful wastes, from the mistaken notion that good roads require the destruction of roadside timber and the levelling of hedges, until they are a mere apology for a fence, and that azr cannot pass between leaves, although there is no obstacle to a current overhead, as must always be the case when the lateral branches are clipped to admit of the free passage of vehicles on the Queen’s highway. Such is the case at Eastbourne in Sussex, where trees by the roadside and hedges properly so called, appear to be really valued as they deserve, and where it is impossible to desire better roads. It is also worthy of note, that even where walls have there re- cently been built along the side of the road, a circuit has been made, or a gap has been left, to preserve the beautiful trees which grow in the line, and trees are also carefully preserved in the streets, and give the town a most picturesque appearance. of Good Cookery. 219 can be so led away by want of reflection as to suppose that any sweeping destruction of the beautiful and bountiful provisions of Providence can possibly be necessary or desir- able, and I should much suspect that many evils are incurred which are as yet unnoticed, in consequence of the strange influence of fashion, from the mania for novelty, the prevalence of imitation without thought, with the still : greater absence of observation on many impor- tant things which might be injuriously affected by the wholesale devastation which you say is now so prevalent. I am thankful that no duty obliges me to travel and to witness these me- lancholy changes in the aspect of other parts of Great Britain. To what do you attribute the origin of this destructive mania ? ” *< T am sorry to say,” said the Traveller, “< as I have a great respect for Scotland, and as I am proud of a little Scotch blood in my veins, that I believe we owe the barren appearances I mention to Scotch example,—not that the Scotch are to blame, but it is possible that the wholesale imitation of the Scotch low-land 220 The First Principles farming has been the cause of this great change for the worse in the aspect of some parts of England if not of Wales? The Scotch, no doubt, are a most painstaking and industrious race; they farm in a manner which suits their soil and their climate. It is the nature of some parts of their country to be woodless, and they have large tracts well suited for corn, where wood does not naturally grow, but the English, not satisfied with adopting their system of agriculture where suitable to the locality, have, in the spirit of close imitation, ploughed up good pastures and destroyed a great deal of valuable wood of native growth, which was, without question, the principal charm of land- scape scenery,’ and which he wished the Hermit could find agricultural arguments for retaining. | The Hermit begged to be excused from any argument on the subject, but he said that, from the information given by the Traveller, there was little doubt that, sooner or later, the good people of the nineteenth century would dis- cover that (to quote the old proverb) they had of Good Cookery. 221 been “ robbing Peter to pay Paul.” «It does not become me,” said he, ‘‘ who have not seen the frightful disfigurement of which you complain, to enter particularly upon the evils which must thereby be incurred, but I will, with pleasure, tell you the positive benefits which I derive from the system you see here, which is not only conducive to beauty, but also is productive of various advantages. It is very bad economy, as well as crue/ty, not to provide shade for cattle, and especially for sheep, in the summer-time, and shelter is often as much required in heavy summer rains as in autumn’s storms ; but there is another benefit derived from the pre- servation of trees and glades of native growth, in pasture as well as arable land, where there are streams, as the roots and the fibres of trees act as conductors for moisture, and are of great service to the contiguous pasture—the roots of even one tree will often run a distance of incredible extent—the tree not only deriving nourishment itself from what it imbibes, but conveying a vast amount of superabundant moisture, tending to the nourishment of the 222 The First Principles herbage far and near. On the same prin- ciple, alders and every species of brushwood ought to be preserved and encouraged on the sides of all rivulets, and, if not of native growth, they ought to be planted there—in the first place, to act as conduits or feeders to the pasture land; secondly, as a protection to the edges of streams, which would otherwise be more liable to burst their banks, as well as to become slippery and unsightly by the continual treading of cattle along their whole length. In this locality, wherever there is a glade or a wood, there is almost invariably a fine spring ; this of itself always creates a stream, and I suppose that water is as precious in other parts of Great Britain as it is in this, where its value was never more felt than in the last summer, when the absence of rain would have rendered the drought much more serious but for the blessing of our numerous springs, rills, and rivulets, many of which, though low, continued their valuable supply during the whole period.” The Traveller, in answer to subsequent questions, said he ‘* scarcely knew whether he of Good Cookery. 223 should be correct in asserting that water was much valued in England or nor, that the pre- sent conversation called to his recollection many circumstances which were apparently so con- tradictory, that if he stated in a court of justice that water was ‘very much valued,’ and that his cause depended upon the proofs of his veracity, facts might be adduced which would prove exactly the reverse; although, on the other hand, he would state other facts which were equally true, but which certainly went far to prove that there was no country in the world where water was so Uittle valued, so jittle tarned to account, and so constantly made away with without end or aim.” The Hermit said that he had often thought his friend spoke in riddles, and that he had fre- quently had great difficulty in comprehending his narrations relative to the present time ; but that, of all the riddles he had yet heard, the present was the most difficult to understand or to reconcile with assertions of the ‘‘ marvellous progress” which had been made in human in- telligence in the last fifty years. 224 The First Principles The Traveller remarked he had had too many discomfitures to venture upon a defence, but that he would relate to the Hermit the facts which appeared so contradictory, and he might then judge for himself. ‘“* First of all,” said he, ‘‘to prove how much water is valued, London is supplied by water companies,* and every house pays for every drop that it con- sumes.” ‘The price of water is enormous ; and, consequently, he could truly say that water was highly valued, as not only good, but bad water was paid for; but, to judge by the scarcity of fountains, or any visible supply of running water for the passers-by in the streets, it might be supposed that England was a desert, without springs or rivers, and that the only supplies of water the inhabitants could procure must be brought in pipes through the sea from France! So dear, so scarce, and often so bad was that element, (generally supplied by Heaven in quan- tities commensurate with the wants of all cre- ated beings,) that, very recently, philanthropic individuals had become painfully aware of the * See Traveller's Note Book. of Good Cookery. 2255 sufferings of a large part of the population of London, and other great towns, from the impossibility of obtaining a cup of cold water to drink, in the course of transit through the streets during the heat and toil of the day, and many thousand pounds had been charitably subscribed towards fountains in some of the most populous parts of London, and that benevolent and wealthy persons had recently erected foun- tains at their own expense in some other towns ; that of course every drop was a boon to men, women, and children dying of thirst, and thou- sands of whom, without that natural refresh- ment, had been, and still were, forced into public houses, whilst it was admitted, on all sides, that the curse of Great Britain was drinking, which was, to a great extent, caused as well as perpe- tuated by the want of convenient supplies of good water always at hand;—that the lower classes in London hardly knew what good water was, and the charitable free fountains, though better than nothing, were seldom, if ever, of any benefit to the poor cattle and horses, which, instead of being able (as on the Conti- 2a 226 The First Principles nent) to drink out of large stone basins from running water, to be found in every square and the corner of every street, were entirely de- pendent on the mercy (or the cruelty) of their drivers, who either did not, or could not, supply them in buckets from pumps, which were fre- quently far apart, and often shut up because the. water was considered absolutely poisonous. The Hermit inquired why those humane persons who erected fountains did not also add a basin for passing animals? and the Traveller had some difficulty in making him understand that the supply of these (so called) fountains was, in the majority of instances, only a minute stream, the thickness of a quill, under which poor little boys might often be seen patiently holding a cup to be filled by this little dribbling spout, while others were as patiently waiting for their turn to obtain a few drops of that precious, but slow and scanty supply, although large sums are paid by the fountain donors for this meagre boon, which could certainly not afford any share for quadrupeds, unless: a stray dog sometimes by chance might benefit by a of Good Cookery. 227 few spare drops, and thus be prevented from going mad. *< So far,” said the Traveller, ‘‘ I have proved that water is dearly priced, if not prized suf- ficiently to arouse such an expression of public opinion as would compel the supply to be equal to the requirements of the population; but,” added he, «I will now proceed to give you an account which you will have some difficulty in believing relates to the same subject. The ‘ great progress of agriculture’ has destroyed so many springs, that various parts of the kingdom suffer seriously for want of water, which formerly were well supplied.” “« Destroy springs!” said the Hermit. “* How can human beings destroy springs? Man has no more power to forbid water to flow than he has to create a spring.” “‘] may have used a wrong expression,” said the Traveller, ‘by the word ‘ destroy;’ but yet 7 zs destruction, as far as the results are concerned, and the benefit of man or beast is involved. I allude to draining—I know tracts of land which used formerly to be too wet, Q2 228 The First Principles but which, notwithstanding, produced a large amount of pasture, and have, from excess of draining, become so parched that, in a dry sum- mer, there is scarcely a blade of grass upon them ; and in other places, from overlooking the course which the springs previously took before the land was drained, the greatest distress has been occasioned by the supply of water suddenly ceasing in localities at some distance lower down, where the source of the water had ever been unknown and unnoticed, though enjoyed time out of mind.” The Hermit said it appeared to him that the evils now recounted were simply caused by total want of reflection and observation, and, he must add, of intelligence; that, where such a precious necessary of life as water was con-— cerned, no person ought to be permitted totally and entirely to bury it in underground drains, the very courses of which are soon forgotten ; that, wherever land is drained, and springs thereby concealed, a pool or reservoir of some kind ought to be a matter of law, and com- pulsory upon all drainers, whether landlords or of Good Cookery. 229 tenants, so that access might always at once be had to water; and that no degree of drainage should ever involve the total concealment, and consequent entire loss, of that invaluable ele- ment in any locality whether wet or dry. The Traveller said, that ‘the loss sustained by excessive and indiscreet drainage was also much felt by man and beast on the roadside; and that, although it might have been untidy, and sometimes inconvenient in wet weather, to leave little rivulets, so common in past times, to overflow and intrude upon the turnpike, or bye roads, yet that it was infinitely preferable to the total absence of water, which was mow the characteristic of the Queen’s highway, where poor horses, cattle, pigs, sheep, and dogs were obliged to travel miles without a single spout, stone trough, or streamlet, where they could quench their thirst, although beer-houses, on an average of two or three, or six or eight to every mile, were ready to supply their drovers with the perpetual means of intoxication ! ” The Hermit, as was his wont, became sad and silent when he heard facts which ap- 2.30 The First Principles peared to his mind to indicate the diminution, if not absolute decay, of human intelligence ; he, therefore, contented himself with a deep sigh, while he ejaculated,— «Ts it possible that there can be any common sense left in the world, if men employ their ingenuity in burying water out of sight, be- cause they have a superabundance of that pre- cious fluid, while, at the same time, the very least drop is charged in London as if it was an expensive and artificial production, instead of a | free gift to all from Heaven?” He then pro- posed to the Traveller to return home by an- other way, which he selected, for the purpose of showing the comfort as well as picturesque beauty of several spouts of clear water, which filled stone wells, or basins, formed in the banks by the wayside, and equally adapted for the re- freshment of.man or beast, by each of which were large stones, where one or two laborers were seated under the verdant shade of a spreading hazel. The Hermit remarked that one of these rustic figures reminded him of the beautiful of Good Cookery. 231 vignettes in Bewick’s ‘‘ British Birds,” the earlier edition of which, he recollected, was printed at Alnwick in the last century; and that, in engravings of that date, it was common in rural subjects to see a peasant drinking out of his hand or his hat by the roadside, or kneeling down over a well. ‘“* Alas!” said the Traveller, ‘‘ the poor way- farers now would not find sufficient water by the roadside to fill their hand, although they would find intoxicating liquors manufactured enough to drown themselves, and enough to destroy both body and soul. With regard to poor animals coming from fairs and markets, the tortures they now suffer are dreadful to think of; and, instead of these delightful umbrageous hedges, which afford both shade and shelter, everything is cut and shorn for miles, until there is not shade for a snail without a shell, where verdure used to abound.” The Hermit asked what could be the plea for such wanton destruction, as he did not sup- pose that it was really an epidemic or a lunacy ; 232 The First Principles that some reason must be alleged, whether well or ill founded ? The Traveller said that any idea carried to an excess which produced evil might be deno- minated a mania, and that one of the manias of the present day was about roads; that he admitted roads should have air enough to dry them after rain, and that the hedges should not be allowed to extend their boughs in such a manner over roads as to impede the progress of passing vehicles, but that the degree of pruning which would answer for one purpose would answer equally well for the other, and that the excessive cutting down and exhaustive laying to which hedges were now subjected in many places was a twofold evil, as, by cut-. ting hedges so low, travellers were cut to pieces by wind, or scorched by sun, and by laying hedges in the way generally practised, viz. cut- ting the live wood nearly (or quite) to the under bark, the quick (or whatever species of shrub was subjected to this treatment) became exhausted by loss of sap, and was thrown back for two or three years, and often killed. When of Good Cookery. 22% the system of laying was pursued, each bough ought to be split or notched as /t¢/e as possible, just enough and no more than would suffice to enable the hedger to bend it to its place; that the tops of hedges ought never to be cut flat like a turnpike road, as was frequently the case, which often caused the quicks to die down several inches, from the snow lying on the top of the hedge and freezing into the young shoots; that hedges ought to be allowed to grow up in single spikes, by which means the snow would slip off on the slightest thaw, in- stead of freezing and thawing, and re-freezing on the whole flat surface of the top of the hedge; and that by cutting hedges so low, the possessor of the land lost all shade or shelter for his animals on the field side, and animals fre- quently broke over into the road, or seeing some of their own kind passing, galloped along exciting the horses of travellers to become restive, or run away.* The Hermit expressed surprise and pleasure * A most unpleasant result of hedges ot being fences, and one which often occurs. 234 The First Principles at the evident reflection which now accom- panied the Traveller’s recollections before he could have so clearly traced cause to effect, to which his guest replied with great candour, that before he had been led to reflect, he could only have stated what offended Azs eye ; but since he had been in the habit of observ- ing, he had found that he was gradually be- coming better able to judge of those things for which he could not previously have assigned any good reason either for censure or for com- mendation. The Hermit asked him to name any other matters connected with the management of hedges which struck him, and the Traveller expatiated especially on the barbarous destruc- tion of hollies in hedges, which he said were really treated as if they were the most per- nicious weeds, instead of the most valuable of all live fences. The holly produced shade and shelter all the year round, and was, from its prickly leaf, quite impassable when properly treated, as well as one of the most ornamental of evergreens from its berries in winter; and, of Good Cookery. | 24% indeed, profitable on that account in the neigh- bourhood of large towns, where the custom of decorating with holly at Christmas was. still universal from the poorest to the richest, and consequently the holly, the mistletoe, and ivy * were sold in towns to an immense extent. But, instead of the holly being carefully preserved in hedges, it was often gashed and laid like the com- mon quick, although, to use the language of the gardener, ‘‘ Hollies would not stand the knife” with impunity, and soon bled to death if laid ; and any one who noticed a holly hedge laid, would find that it was not only thrown back for years, but that a great portion of the hollies frequently died down to the root, while the boughs of holly cut off were of all wood the worst for mending hedges, as they the soonest perished ; that hollies ought never to be topped, but left to grow up as high as possible, care- fully shortening their boughs where they pro- jected over the road, and where they could not be twisted in and worked through the * See Traveller’s Note Book. 236 The First Principles hedge, which, wherever it could be done, was the best and strongest of fences; and as no holly bore berries except on the ends of the sprays, this was a cogent reason for not topping them. He also said, that, as in the case of all other trees, the snow acted injuriously if it lay and froze on the cut tops of the sprays; that a good holly hedge on the farmer’s side was the most valuable shade and shelter for his sheep and cattle, and on the traveller’s side was of similar benefit, whilst by keeping it clipped or twisted back, no sort of injury could be in- flicted on the highway—that hollies were very slow in growing, but everlasting when once well rooted, if not killed by the extraordinary passion for destruction of the present age, or the entire want of knowledge and reflection so perpetually manifested in its treatment, but he thought want of reflection was even more palpable in the treatment of the banks upon which hedges grew, whether natural or arti- ficial. When artificial, much labour must, of course, be expended in raising the bank on which to plant the hedge which was to form of Good Cookery. 227 the fence, and yet, in many districts that he had seen, the banks were not only so perse- veringly pared on the roadside, that the roots of whatever formed the hedge were often seen to protrude horizontally through the soil, and were consequently dried up, and perished by the summer’s sun and the winter’s frost, but the banks were often undermined to such an extent that they gave way above; and where Avs did not occur, instead of being green in summer with a luxuriant abundance of leaves, their sickly, exhausted state was evident from the privation of the nourishment continually ab- stracted by paring away the bank next the road or excavating under it. The Traveller said he recollected that a friend of his had told him he had discovered, in his own locality, the cause of this annual de- struction, to the injury of the road as regarded a good fence, and still more to the injury of the farmer, who would be compelled to be at the expense of making a dead hedge if he could not keep up a live one, and that all these evils were entirely occasioned by want of observa- 238 The First Principles tion and reflection on the part of both parties most interested.* The Traveller had become so warm on this subject, that he would have gone on longer upon the same topic; but the Hermit inter- rupted him, and, looking at his hour-glass, found it was getting late; he had turned it down at ten o'clock, and now it was past eleven. And he said, that although the prin- cipal study in which they were engaged (the culinary art) was agreeably and usefully diver- sified by ‘‘ various remarks on many things, past and present,” yet the main point must not be forgotten—viz. the progress of his guest in learning how to provide for the pressing re- quirements of every day’s food. said the Hermit, ‘‘ that you asked me to give some information on the sub- > ‘¢ T remember,’ ject of salting meat. I do not profess to pre- serve meat for voyages, but if you still wish to know how meat ought to be salted for domestic use, where it can be procured fresh every week, I shall be very happy to enter upon the subject, * See Traveller's Note Book. of Good Cookery. — 239 as I have perceived so many indications of the improvement of your powers of observation and reflection, that I am not afraid of overpower- ing you by commencing on another ‘branch of domestic economy which ought to be well understood in every house in the United King- dom, where salt meat is ever eaten.” The Traveller expressed his acknowledg- ments for being at last permitted to enter upon this new department of knowledge; and the Hermit commenced his instructions by a few interrogatories, after taking him into an apart- ment he had never seen before, in the centre of which was a very large stone table, with a groove all round it, and a small channel cut out at one corner. On this table was a round of beef, weighing fifty pounds ;* it was curled up in the usual form of a round of beef, though not skewered. The senior widow was standing by it with a large sharp knife in her hand. ‘¢ Now,’ said the Hermit to his friend, ‘* that round of beef is to be salted. It came in this morning, and Gwenllian well knows that I * See Appendix No. XXXVIII. 24.0 , The First Principles have reason to find fault with the manner in which it is placed upon the table.” Whether the excellent female to whom he alluded understood the English words he ut- tered, the Traveller did not know, as his host always made a point of speaking Welsh to all the widows, and was never addressed by them in any other language, but it did not require words to interpret the angry glance that lighted upon the unfortunate Gwenllian, who certainly — comprehended its meaning, as she instantly seized the beef, uncoiled it, and laid it out full length, with the outside next the stone. “<< Now,” said the Hermit, ‘1 will take advantage of the wnusual forgetfulness of which Gwenllian has been guilty, to begin your ex- amination from an earlier stage in the manage- ment of beef than I had intended. First of all, can you tell me why I was so much displeased at seeing the beef coiled up and placed in the shape it ought to be when boiled, instead of as it now is laid?” The Traveller was very much annoyed by this question, for he had hoped and expected of Good Cookery. 241 to have distinguished himself by his answers, as he felt a certain degree of confidence, not arising (as formerly) from the conceit of igno- rance, but from the consciousness of a certain degree of ability, obtained by the recent prac- tical exercise of his faculties; but he was so completely puzzled by the present query, that he felt he had better confess at once that he could not divine any reason for the Hermit’s preference for one position to another with respect to the beef. His host next asked him what he would do with the beef, if obliged to direct the salting? ** I would mix salt and water together,” re- plied oe friend, “in a tub, and ea the beef into it.’ «*« What proportions of salt to ie water?” asked the Hermit. <<] do not know,” said the Traveller; ‘* but I suppose I could tell by. tasting it, and if it tasted like sea-water, it would be salt enough.” «] ** The principle,” said the Hermit, ‘is ex- actly the same as that upon which some cooks would plunge a ham, as soon as boiled, into a pail of iced water, ‘The object is to chill, as quickly as possible, that which is to be eaten 280 The First Principles cold; by which means the juices, which would otherwise run off or evaporate, are staunched up within the flesh ; and I am anxious that these chickens, provided for our journey, should be as juicy and retain as much flavour as possible.” Three hours afterwards, the chickens were taken out. A tongue also was boiled, and placed upon a dish. Oranges were then cut across the centre, the core taken out with a sharp penknife, the pulp cut round and sepa- rated from the rind wzthout any adhesion of the white skin; the pulp was put into a basin in lumps, and the juice which remained in the halves of the oranges was squeezed upon it; sugar was sprinkled upon them, and boiling water added, in the proportion of two tablespoonfuls to each orange. They were then put aside till the next day, which was to be the morning of departure. : In the course of the previous day, the widows were very busily engaged in making biscuits * and the rock cakes -f (the original recipe for * See Appendix No. XLIV. tT See Appendix No. XLV. — of Good Cookery. 281 which the Hermit had received direct from — Margaret Cavendish Harley, Duchess of Port- Jand), and in carefully washing and re-washing old-fashioned bottles cased in leather, with glass stoppers, and two little glass preserving pots also with glass stoppers. The loaves of rice bread,* for the sandwiches, were baked the previous night, as they were better for that purpose when they were a day old. The baskets to hold the travelling fare were those always used by the Hermit for his moun- tain expeditions, and were made by his Welsh labourers. They were square, like a box, with a lid and loop of basket-work, and divisions in the inside, into which fitted two small tin boxes, two bottles, one glass preserving-pot, two wooden spoons, and a fork (made by the Welsh peasants, who have a remarkable talent for carving). All being so far ready, the host and the Tra- veller retired to rest; when the latter had a most distressing dream, which he felt he never could forget, and which, no doubt, was to be * See Appendix No, XLVI. se The First Principles attributed to his emotions on the eve of de- parture, combined with the exclamations of the widows, above alluded to. He dreamt that he had been handed over by the Hermit to the four Welsh widows, who were to make him into a ‘* poten” —a word which he perfectly understood to mean ‘‘ pudding.” He thought that he struggled in vain to get out of their hands, and that, in reply to his entreaties, they said nothing but ‘* Paid ag ofni!” <‘* Paid ag ofni!” * and that, while he was being cut into mincemeat, the Hermit, with a most sardonic expression, informed him that if, after being boiled three hours in a basin, he could talk Welsh, he would, by his art, restore him to his own proper form; but that he had eaten too long of the best produce of Cambria not to make the small return of speaking the language of those who had provided him with so many good things; and that, if he failed to give this small token of his gratitude, he should remain a pudding till he was eaten up by wild dogs. After this frightful dream, he lost all sensation * “To not fear? “ Domotican of Good Cookery. 28 3 (even in sleep), until, believing he was awake, but the dream still continuing, he uttered so vehemently, ** O anwyl, anwyl, beth a wnaf fi?” ‘“‘Beth a wnaf fi?” *—at the same moment believing that he was a pudding, and had jumped out of the pot upon the floor of the Hermit’s kitchen—that he was awakened by the violence with which he really had leaped out of his bed, and he lay upon the floor some time before he could understand that he was not a pudding, that he had not been Jdoiled, and that he was not master of the Welsh language,— although, in truth, he had been so terrified by the nightmare, that, like Sir Walter Scott’s monk, he could not, for some time, repeat anything but the widows’ Welsh lamentations, which were engraven on his memory. At length, however, he recovered, and was able to dress himself, and go down to breakfast. It was reserved for the last hour before starting to cut or pull the cold chicken meat * “What shallI do?” “ What shall I do?” + The Monk sings the song of the Water Kelpie, See Zhe Monastery, vol. 1. p. 84. 284 The First Principles into delicate small pointed pieces taken from the breasts, and which were then laid in a tin box, which had previously been lined with white paper, each morsel being slightly sprinkled with salt. In the other tin box were sandwiches made of the pounded chicken meat and tongue, moistened with the cold Jelly of a boiled chicken, which had been flavoured with appropriate herbs. ‘The rice bread was cut into thin pieces of the proper size and shape for eight sandwiches, and pounded meat put between them. Two packets of four each filled each tin box. The oranges were then (pulp and juice) put into the glass preserving pots, the mouths of which were sufficiently wide to admit of a spoon. One bottle was filled with the water of the Ffynon Over, and the other was filled with cold tea, which had been made and sweetened the previous night, and the vessel in which it was contained was put to stand in the well till the morning, when it received the proper proportion of cold scalded (not clotted) cream. ‘The centre compartment ‘had also space for narrow strips of rice bread, in- of Good Cookery. 28 5 tended to eat with the chicken; likewise for the plain biscuits and the rock cakes; also plums and pears. Both baskets were provided alike. At length the Traveller’s steed and the Hermit’s pony appeared before the cell with four or five Welsh mountaineers, all of whom were called Bechgyn,* although the youngest had long before seen fifty years, and each of whom insisted upon seeing their beloved master to the end of his ride and the beginning of his perils, and each expecting to have the sole charge of the much-valued pony named Cymro, which, next to the Hermit himself, was the object of their care. It was thirty-five miles to the nearest station, and although the Hermit would not show the slightest fear, having once given his word not only to accompany his guest, but to travel by railroad, that he might see it and judge of it for himself, yet he shuddered in- wardly when he thought of a mode of convey- ance, which, from description, appeared better * Boys. 286 The First Principles suited for spirits of the lower regions than for those above ground. Slowly and solemnly the steed aan the pony were mounted. ‘Tears were in the eyes of the widows and the Bechgyn; melancholy resolve on the countenance of the Hermit; and sorrow- ful regret in the demeanour of the Traveller ! They were to stop, at the end of eighteen miles, by the side of a clear stream, under an ash tree, well known to the Hermit and his attendants, who carried bags of oatmeal for the horses, and said they could procure vessels in which to mix it for them from a cottage, as well as hay, should there not be sufficient pasturage. Here they were to remain three hours, and to refresh themselves with the contents of their baskets, the widows having, by the Hermit’s orders, provided each of the mountaineers with a costrel of Glasdwr,* bread and meat, and bread and cheese, with apples in their pockets. The time has now arrived when the Hermit and the Traveller must take their leave of the * Two parts of milk to three parts of water. of Good Cookery. 20% “Gentle Reader,’ who must imagine them defiling through the wood that leads from the Cell of St. Gover, with the Welsh widows and their handmaidens in mute despair, whilst the Hermit’s Welsh harper, who was seated by the ancient Well of Gover, struck the triple strings of his noble instrument, and extemporised an accompaniment to the following Druidic Triad, which he uttered in a plaintive recitative, but with a warning accent, as he watched the departure of his master till he could no longer be seen :— “Tri pheth a ddylai dyn ystyried : O b'le daeth, b’le mae, I b’le yn myned.” Which being translated, signifies— ““ Three things a man ought to consiter : Whence he comes, where he ts, To what place he ts going.” For the satisfaction of those who may wish to hear of the safe arrival of the Hermit and his friend at the place of greatest danger, it may be added, that the five faithful Welsh mountaineers returned the following evening, 288 Furst Principles of Gocd Cookery. ee with the pony Cymro, and informed the widows and all others, that they had beheld the “ Meudwy Bonheddig” and his English guest go off in a flame of fire, with a noise which deafened their ears, and a smell that they should never forget, and that no doubt he must come to a fearful end! THE TRAVELLER’S NOTE BOOK. TO THE EDITOR OF A COUNTY PAPER. Letter shown by the Traveller to the Hermit from a Gentleman who wanted a Shirt. Sir,—I beg to call your attention to the following distressing facts, for the truth of which I can vouch, having occurred to myself. For many years my respected grandmother was in the habit of presenting me with an annual stock of shirts, which she cut out and made with her own hands, my mother having died when I was an infant. I was thus happily well provided till past the age of thirty-one years, but my excellent grandmother being now defunct, and my shirts in a very dilapidated condition, I applied to the wife of a friend for the direction of any female who followed the U 290 The Traveller's Note Book. occupation of a sempstress, as my wardrobe required renovation. I did not enter into further particulars, because experience had taught me, that although my grandmother (a gentlewoman of noble descent) no more scrupled to name the word s/zrt than to make a shirt, yet that the great improvements in education had rendered the ladies of the present generation too refined even to know that such a garment was ever worn, far less to name it. The lady to whom I applied gave me the address of a Mrs. Doolittle, residing in the next country town, about three miles distant. I inquired if there was no one nearer in any village, but I was informed there was not, and I accordingly sent for Mrs. Doolittle. When she arrived, I mentioned that I required a set of shirts, and that I would give a pattern which did not require alteration. I was rather sur- prised by the look I received from the very important-looking personage who had answered my summons, as she neither assented nor dis- sented, but stood staring, as if she had heard something alarming or insulting. I repeated The Traveller's Note Book. 291 in other words what I before said, and added, ‘© You understand, I require a set of new shirts. You have been recommended to me, and here is the pattern. I wish you to purchase the linen for me, and to make the shirts as quickly as you can.” Upon this, she drew up with an air of inexpressible scorn, saying, ‘‘I think, sir, there must be some great mistake somewhere ; I never made such a thing in my life, sir, and never professed to do so.” ‘* Why, are you not a sempstress? or what do you call your- self?” <‘*I go out occasionally to assist in trimming, and also take the higher branches at home.” ‘‘ Well,” rejoined I, “I thought people who did needlework were called semp- stresses.’ ‘I do not understand that name, sir; I never heard it before; I was educated in a very superior manner, sir.” I here re- collected having heard my good grandmother say, that “‘the test of a needlewoman was making a shirt,” and that any one who could make a fine shirt properly, was mistress of plain needlework.* I therefore ventured to * Tf button-holes were included. U 2 292 The Traveller’s Note Book. observe, that I had always understood that ‘‘shirt-making was ¢he ‘highest branch’ of ” upon which Mrs. Doolittle re- plied, with a contemptuous gesture, that ‘‘ that must have been very long ago, before she was born, as her governess, who taught all the modern branches of a first-rate education, never allowed such a garment tobe mentioned in her pre- sence.” By this time I had come to the conclusion that the longer this elegant pro- fessor of the ‘*‘ higher branches” remained in my presence, the worse the opinion we should form of each other! I therefore speedily wished her good morning, and applied to another lady to recommend somebody who would not be above undertaking the task of renovating my unfortunate wardrobe, as my requirements were pressing. ‘To prevent tres- passing too much on your valuable space, I will shortly narrate that I have had no less than six persons recommended to me as needle- women, or sempstresses, or whatever their dignity allows them to be called, from three different towns in the same county, and that needlework ; The Traveller's Note Book, 293 t ere was not one that had ever made a shirt, though all had been brought up at various schools; and the only result of my inquiries has been the disheartening knowledge, that it is impossible for me to obtain the services of any one who would undertake to make a fine shirt, although the population of the above- mentioned towns averaged respectively 11,000, 6,000, and 2,000, and I was actually informed | that although, five years previously, the smallest and most unimportant of these towns had pos- sessed an admirable shirt-maker, who was also a schoolmistress, that she had been removed from her office, and had left the country, and a successor had been appointed, who could neither execute nor teach any manual. arts, employments, or occupations, beyond what the wooden hook would accomplish, called by the French name of crochet, and which (I was told), on account of the great expense of fine-coloured wools, was a much greater tax upon the parents, than any benefit to the scholars! The person who gave me the above information with respect to the departed schoolmistress and 294 The Traveller's Note Book. shirt-maker, lamented, as much as I did, the extinction of the art of making shirts, and added, that the very names of trades and callings were now changed, and that the e/egant nonentities of the present day were not to be called schoo/- mistresses, but ** governesses!” Under these unhappy circumstances, my only resource is to beg for the benefit of your columns, to make known my present requirements, in the hope, that if any female still exists who can make a shirt, that she will be so obliging as to indicate the fact by advertisement in your paper, ad- dressed to the gentleman in want of a shirt. J am quite prepared to pay very handsomely, if my pattern is exactly followed. Team, sis Your obedient, humble Servant, A GENTLEMAN IN DISTRESS. The Traveller’s Note Book. 295 POOR LAWS. Tue Hermit recounted an anecdote in refer- ence to the effect of the Poor Laws as follows: —A poor man living on the side of the moun- tain about four miles distant died, after painful and lingering illness. He left a wife and two or three young children. It was the depth of winter, and the snow covered the ground. His wife inquired of the proper authority how she was to get a coffin, and was informed that she must go to the relieving officer, who lived nearly eight miles off, during which time she must have left the children in the house, or gone out of her way to reach the dwelling of a neighbour, where she might probably have found protection for them during her absence. Four- teen or sixteen miles in the snow, under great distress of mind, would be considered a heavy infliction for a man under such circumstances ; but how much more for a woman? who pos- sibly might not have found the relieving officer at home when she got to the end of her journey. In the present instance, the Hermit 296 The Traveller's Note Book. said, that the wretched poor woman thought that 4e might befriend her, and consequently she walked three miles in the snow to his cell (in- stead of eight), and obtained the poor boon she sought, viz. the Hermit’s order for a coffin to be made for her husband’s remains, with the risk of the parish refusing to pay for it had they been so disposed, because it was not com- manded by the relieving officer! Several other facts were mentioned by the Hermit, as having occurred under his own knowledge and that of his friend, sufficient to cause my exclamation of ‘« Are we in a Christian country?” and ‘‘ Are these acts in conformity with the law? or punishable by the law?” The Hermit believes that all these things are in conformity with the Poor Law Act, 7f so, why is such an Act suffered to exist without alteration and amendment? It also appears that great cruelty can be /egally perpetrated with regard to the removal of poor persons who, notwithstanding a life of industry and an old age of honesty and virtue, are unable from bodily infirmity to gain any longer a sufficiency ss. The Traveller’s Note Book. 297 for their own maintenance. The Hermit mentioned one among many pitiful cases which had been recounted to him by his rich and benevolent neighbour. It was that of a brother and sister who had always lived toge- ther, and, though the one was partially crippled and the other was weak, they had managed to earn their bread by their own exertions till they were far advanced in years, when they were necessitated to apply for parish relief. Upon inquiry, it appeared that they belonged to a parish more than one hundred miles distant, although they had resided for so many years in the locality where they had grown old, that they were completely naturalized to the spot. The parish authorities commenced a corre- spondence, when, after months of wrangling and delay, the distant parties decided that they would not grant any relief unless the two old people were sent to the workhouse more than a hundred miles off, and they were sent there ! It appears that the Welsh have such a horror of the workhouse, and are also naturally so very kind-hearted, that numerous instances occur of 298 The Traveller's Note Book. peasants and their wives, who earn their daily bread by hard labour, with children of their own, have brought up other children who have been put out to nurse with them after their parents have died, or have been unable to pay anything for their maintenance, rather than surrender them to the parish to be placed in a workhouse. The Hermit has a horror of what is now called centralization. He says that the order of the Universe ought to teach mankind that every- thing is the centre of a small circle, and that it is contrary to reason to suppose that human beings requiring various treatment, if collected together from various quarters in one place in a huge mass, can ever be properly cared for, managed, or attended. On being informed of the enormous build- ings now erected in towns for the purpose of receiving the poor from numerous parishes, he shuddered with horror at what he was convinced must necessarily be the dreadful results in various ways ; and nothing could persuade him that if each parish, or perhaps two parishes, had a The Traveller’s Note Book. . 299 building appropriated for the reception of such persons as ought properly to be called <« pau- pers,’ and if the remainder of the respectable industrious poor received such out-door relief as was proper under their various circumstances, that it would not only promote virtue and morality, but that it would render the per- petuation of great and long-continued abuses impossible, which must constantly occur in the overgrown communities I described, called: “* Union Workhouses,” where all were strangers to each other, and where every tie was severed that was calculated to preserve the best characteristics appertaining to human beings, or Christians. © The Hermit described the Welsh workhouse that he recollected as existing in his own parish about half a century ago, which he then fre- quently visited. It was an old and spacious farm-house, situated on the edge of a wood by the side of a by-road, with a green before the door on which grew two large walnut trees. It was well supplied with running water, and it was selected as the workhouse for two parishes, the locality being convenient for both. It was 300 ~The Traveller's Note Book. kept by an old farmer and his wife, who were enabled to maintain two or three cows on the adjoining land; and he well remembered the inmates of the establishment, of which he gave the following description:—On one of the hobs of the immense old-fashioned fire-place, which occupied a large portion of the side of the spacious kitchen, sat a man called Old Harry (yr hén Harri), who, from some injury, was unable to stand up, and could only move along the floor with his knees raised by means of his hands and feet. Old Harry was a most harmless individual, but he had outlived all his family, and was a proper object for admission into what was then a happy home for the inno- cent and really destitute poor. His pleasure was to be placed on the large stone hob in the recess of the chimney during cold weather, and to sit on the grass under the walnut trees in the warm weather. In the window of this kitchen, a Welsh woman of about fifty spun black wool at a large wheel. She had been for some years in a melancholy and _ half stupified state of mind; she had no one to The Traveller’s Note Book. 301 maintain her, and had not sufficient command of intellect to maintain herself, but as long as she was provided with wool she was perfectly happy, and would spin from morning till night at the large wheel, which gave her-exercise as well as occupation, and which lightened the expense of her maintenance. A third member of this comfortable family was a crooked-look- ing, half-witted boy, called Billo. He might then have been thirty years of age, but every- body looked upon Billo as a child; he was very short, but strong and honest, and he was allowed to go of errands for the neighbours, and carry small burdens, and assist the good man and his wife in the various proceedings of the farm. Billo was a proper object for parish maintenance, as he also was deficient in bodily and mental ability to earn his own bread, al- though he could help those who ministered to his wants in many ways. The Hermit added that he also recollected occasional additions, and a woman with little children, whose husband had run away from her, but she was not like a prisoner,—she 302 The Traveller's Note Book. might have been supposed to have been a ser- vant of the farm,—cheerful and bustling, she took care of her own children, and was ready to ‘‘lend a hand” to anything that was going on; she was not separated forcibly from any of her family, but she was thankful to find a refuge within reach of her former home in the time of need; and being near her friends, she was very soon provided for, and enabled to leave the workhouse for service, her relations assisting in the maintenance of her children. — It now strikes me that the friends and relations of persons who are sent to the workhouse would exert themselves, in nine cases out of ten, for the liberation of those within its walls, were all workhouses within easy reach of their former homes and connexions. ‘‘ Out of sight, out of mind,” is a true saying. How few relations of those immured in a workhouse would, or could, go and see their friends, if ten, twenty, or thirty miles off! And how few would fail to do so, from the weight of public opinion, (if not from affection), when each person in their own locality would know whether they had The Traveller’s Note Book. 303 taken any notice of their distressed friends or relatives, or not! On this subject I am a convert to the Her- mit’s theory of the benefit of smal circles, each centre of which ought to govern its own espe- cial native sphere, all being amenable to gene- ral laws; and I certainly read in the news- papers* of the present day enough to know that the workhouses are frequently, if not always, a frightful conglomeration of misfortune and misrule, generally accompanied by great cruelty. The management of such establish- ments can never properly be accomplished by any human beings (however great their talents, and however honest their intentions), without divisions and subdivisions, and the creation and multiplication of expensive departments now * The appalling disclosures in the Zzmes of this year (1866), relative to the sufferings occasioned from the treatment of the sick poor in certain workhouses, had not transpired when the Traveller made this note ; these disclosures have since proved that the Hermit did not err in the direful anticipations he entertained of the consequences of the present monster system, the dare outline of which was described to him by his guest. 304 The Traveller’s Note Book. unknown! but how much more natural, simple, easter, and detter would it be to let each several locality have the care of its own poor, and thus increase the number of responsible individuals, and render available for the general-good the natural interests which must be, more or less, awakened in the mind of each resident for the fate and treatment of his own neighbours, and which can only be secured by having workhouses on avery moderate, not a monster scale, calculated for the reception of the paupers of the place who have no moral claim to out-door relief, under the immediate and daily observation of some one or other of the residents of the locality. Doubtless the modern fallacy of supposing that the dzgger anything is—whether monster build- ings, Or monster meetings, or monster associa- tions—the better it must be, is one of the great mistakes of the present day, which time is constantly developing, and which the Hermit believes will appear more and more palpable as facts are brought to light, to illustrate the study of cause and effect. At present, I could have told him, the aged and honest poor are con- The Traveller’s Note Book. — Soe tinually forced into distant Unions, although they only implore as much relief in money at home as their maintenance would cost when taken to the workhouse, but I dd not tell him this, because I could not in any way attempt to defend a practice so totally unjustifiable, and which ought to be illegal. OATMEAL. THE preparation of oatmeal is particularly well understood in Wales, as well as in Scot- land; but, by an extraordinary perversity, the kilns necessary for its preparation are becoming very scarce in the Principality, and in many districts of South Wales the people are begin- ning to suffer very much from the kilns not being kept up, or being appropriated to some other use. Next to dread and good water, oat- meal may be considered as one of the first necessaries of life to a rural population ; indeed, in some parts of Wales it still (as in Scotland) takes the place of bread in many instances; and when this is not the case, its valuable and x 306 The Traveller's Note Book. nutritive properties, in sickness and in health, when it is converted into a variety of whole- some and nourishing dishes * by the Welsh, render it to them almost a staff of life; and yet, from the prevalent habit among the higher classes of ignoring or disregarding that which is in their power, many wealthy and philan- thropic individuals are perfectly unconscious that the art of preparing oatmeal in Wales may be lost, and in some districts is almost extinct, in consequence of the kiln buildings being otherwise used, while the proprietor is paying a high price for oatmeal from shops which obtain that necessary article from Scotland, the purchaser being totally unconscious that oat- meal could be made to perfection by his own Welsh tenants, The following amusing recipes for meagre dishes the Hermit allowed me to copy, after a conversation on the unwholesome nature and injurious effects of meagre cookery in general. * Siccan, Llymru, Uwd, &c. t+ See p. 179. The Traveller's Note Book. 307 DISH OF FROGS. Take the thighs, and fry them in clarified butter; then have slices of salt eel, watered, flayed, boned, boiled, and cold; slice them in thin slices, and season both with pepper, nut- meg, and ginger: lay butter on your paste, and lay a rank of frog and a rank of eel, some currans, gooseberries or grapes, raisins, pine- apple seeds, juyce of orange, sugar, and butter ; thus do three times, close up your dish, and, being baked, ice it. Make your paste of almond, milk, flour, butter, yolks of eggs, and sugar. In the foresaid dish you may add fryed onions, yolks of hard eggs, cheese-curds, almond-paste, and grated cheese. 3 TO MAKE A DISH OF MARROW. Take the marrow of two or three marrow- bones; cut it into pieces like great square dice, and put to it a penny manchet, grated fine, some. slic’t dates, half a quartern of currans, ee 308 The Traveller’s Note Book. a little cream, roasted wardens, pippins, or quinces, slic’t, and two or three yolks of raw eggs; season them with cinamon, ginger, and sugar, and mingle all together. DISH OF EGGS. Take the yolks of twenty-four eggs, and strain them with cinamon, sugar, and salt; then put melted butter to them, some fine minced pippins, and minced citron: put it on your dish of paste, and put slices of citron round about it; bar it with puff paste, and the bottom also, or short paste in the bottom. TO MAKE A DISH OF CURDS. Take some very tender curds; wring the whey from them very well; then put to them two raw eggs, currans, sweet butter, rose-water, cinamon, sugar, and mingle all together; then make a fine paste with flour, yolks of eggs, rose-water and other water, sugar, saffron, and The Traveller’s Note Book. 309 ——e butter, wrought up cold: bake it either in this paste or in puff-paste; being baked, ice it with rose-water, sugar, and butter.* The above recipes were extracted from a very curious work in the possession of the Hermit, by the celebrated Robert May, who published his ‘*‘ Accomplisht Cook; or, the Art and Mystery of Cookery. Dedicated to the Right Honourable my Lord Mountague, my Lord Lumley, my Lord Dormer, and the Right Worshipful Sir Kenelme Digby, so well known to this nation for their admired hospitalities.” And in the Preface he says, that he values the “discharge of his own conscience in doing good” above all the malice of those who ‘make it their business to hide their candle under a bushel ;’ d and he makes a solemn pro- test that he “‘has mot concealed any material secret” of which he became possessed in fifty- five years’ experience.. He published his work in the year 1671. | * The digestive organs 200 years ago must have been very much stronger than in 1866, and did much credit to early hours, air, and exercise. 310 The Traveller's Note Book. He was succeeded by William Rabisha, who published. his ‘*‘ Cookery Dissected” in 1673, and dedicated his book to ‘* Her Highness the illustrious Duchess of Richmond and Lenox, Her Highness the Duchess of Buckingham, Her Grace the Most Honourable renowned and singular good lady Lady Jane Lane, the Right Honourable good and virtuous Lady Mary Tufton, and the Hon. virtuous and good Lady Agnes Walker; ” and, among many wonderful compounds, both meagre, sweet, and savoury, the following, is entitled “* To Potch a Dish of Eggs for a Weak Stomach,” and gives an ee of /ighter \enten fare ! TO. -POTCH A DISH*OF EGGss es WEAK STOMACH. A handful of good sorrel beaten in a mortar, strained with the juice of a lemon and vinegar ; put to it sugar and nutmeg; take sippets, hard- ened upon a gridiron; lay them on the bottom of your dish, put on them a little strong broth and a spoonful of drawn butter; then pour in your sorrel, and set it on a great heap of coals. The Traveller's Note Book. 311 Your eggs, being potched in a little water and ~ salt, take them up, drain from the water, and lay them on your sippets; so cover them, and send them suddenly away. Your sauce must never be hotter on the fire than that you may eat it without cooling again; if you do, it will change the colour of your sorrel, and give your lemon a bad taste. ’ The following lines from Rabisha’s work it ought to be the ambition of every good cook in the present century to deserve :— de To show the nearest way To inform the lowest cook how she may dress And make the meanest meat the highest mess ; To please the fancy of the daintiest dame, And suit her palate, that she praise the same.” LUNCHEON. I LATELY maintained a fierce argument with the Hermit on the word ‘¢ Luncheon,” which I said was often called * Lunch.” The Hermit insisted upon it that no educated person in refined society could possibly talk of «* Lunch,” 312 The Traveller's Note Book. or ** Lunching,” but that they must always say <¢Tjuncheon.” I assured him that I had heard persons who, from their birth and rank in life, might be supposed to belong to refined society, speak of ‘‘Lunch” instead of ‘* Luncheon,” and 3 of ** Lunching”’ instead of ‘‘ eating Luncheon,” and who said, ‘‘ I never Lunch,” instead of ** I never eat Luncheon.” My good host, how- ever, maintained that the origin of the word was from ‘ clutch ” or ‘ clunch,” the meaning of which was a handful, in contradistinction to a full meal—a small quantity—to appease hunger when there was no time to sit down to the table ; and whether he is right or wrong, I do not pronounce, but it was impossible to help laughing when he said, ‘*‘ How would it be pos- sible for a refined gentleman when he means to imply that he has eaten a small quantity of food in the forenoon, to exclaim, ‘I clutched, which,” (added he,) ‘* he might just as well say as ‘I lunched.’ Johnson himself quoted Gay as > 39) authority for the word ‘ Luncheon. “I sliced the Zuscheon from the barley loaf ; With crumbled bread I thicken’d well the mess.” The Traveller’s Note Book. 31 3 A RAINY DAY. A LONG conversation upon the waste and mis- management of the present age. The Hermit amused himself with making a calculation, founded upon the account I had given him,* of the number of extra meals and variety of food which it was the fashion to devour in the present day ; and, according to this statement, he said that the overp/us of food, beyond what was required for health, taken by one individual, would, in one day, be sufficient to maintain one person and a half, giving as much as nature re- guired for health: consequently, in each seven days more than ten human beings might be fed with the extra quantity that is now frequently taken by one to the detriment of his own con- stitution, This calculation was made without reference to the expense of various wines con- sumed by any one individual in the course of the week; as the Hermit drank nothing but water himself, he could not enter upon the latter point, and I was determined not to assist * Page 187. 314 The Traveller's Note Book. him, indeed, I half repented having given him the details I had already done with regard to eating; but had I supplied him with data upon which to base a calculation of the num- bers that might be fed for the value of the quantity of wines which are drunk to the injury of health and the perpetuation of gout, I feared that he would make out so frighful a balance that it would disturb my mind, and I should not be able to sleep at night. I have hitherto taken care not to mention the modern practice of smoking to the Hermit, so very destructive to health; but I hardly suppose my host would believe me, if I gave details on this subject. CONVERSATION WITH THE HERMIT, On the Evils of Artificial Fattening of Cattle, to which he was violently opposed.* On referring to the above memorandum, I recollect that the Hermit’s objections above recorded were expressed /ong before the out- break of the Cattle Plague, since which time * See p. 204. The Traveller's Note Book. 3us I have extracted the following passages from the pen of a gentleman * who was qualified, surgically and medically, to pronounce upon the actual consequences, as proved by his pro- fessional examination of the wretched animals, which were condemned to suffering and disease, and were in that state pronounced to be first- rate specimens of an art, creditable to science, and to be encouraged for the good of mankind, these poor diseased creatures being afterwards sold for food! A calculation of the money and time wasted to produce the diseased meat of each of the prize specimens described in the following paragraphs, would supply a singular balance! And what is the result? The Cattle _ Plague! And who can say that much disease is not produced in human beings (if not the cholera itself) by feeding upon such flesh ? *¢ Certain bodily wants, when ill-suppressed, are soon discovered. ‘The air we breathe may contaminate, but we can often. smell, and thereby avoid, an impure atmosphere. Our * On the evil results of over-feeding cattle. By Frederick J. Gant, M.R.C.S. &c. &c. 316 The Traveller's Note Book. clothing may be insufficient, but the wintry wind will soon warn us of this deficiency; a bilious head-ache instinctively prompts more active exercise, while fatigue suggests the ne- cessity of repose. Air, temperature, exercise, and sleep are positive hygienic requirements, which severally proclaim their own demand when effective, and thus the tide of life flows smoothly on, each bodily want being wisely suggested by an appropriate, and almost un- erring instinctive feeling. But it is otherwise with Foop. True it is, that we eat when hungry, but this sensation does not prove an infallible guide in our choice of food, still less a criterion of its nutritive quality. ‘* When visiting the prize animals and others, lately exhibited at the Baker Street Bazaar, I took notes of my observations. One Devon cow looked very ill, and laid her head and neck flat on the ground, like a greyhound. I pointed out these animals to a man who was drawing water, and I asked him if their condition was one of common occurrence. He said, ‘I The Traveller's Note Book. eur: knows nothing of them beasties, in p’ticler, but it’s the case with many on ’em—lI knows that.’ «I passed on to the pigs. A pen of three pigs happened to be placed in a favourable light for observation, and I particularly noticed their condition. ‘They lay helplessly on their sides, with their noses propped up against each other’s backs, as if endeavouring to breathe more easily; but their respiration was loud, suffocating, and at long intervals. ‘Then you heard a short, catching snore, which shook the whole body of the animal, and passed, with the motion of a wave, over its fat surface, which, moreover, felt the cold. I thought how much the /eart, under such circumstances, must be /abouring to propel the blood through the lungs, and throughout the body! The go/d medal pigs were in a similar condition—if any- thing, worse, for they snored and gasped for breath, their mouths being opened, as well as their nostrils dilated, at each inspiration; yet these animals, only twelve months and ten days old, were marked ‘ smproved Chilton breed.’ 318 The Traveller's Note Book. Three pigs,. of the black breed, were in a similar state at seven months, three weeks, and five days; yet such animals the judges ‘ highly commend.’ ‘© When I contrasted the enormous bulk of each animal with the small period in which so much fat, or flesh, had been produced, I naturally indulged in a physiological reflection on the high-pressure work against time, which certain vital internal organs, as the stomach, liver, heart, and lungs, must have undergone at a very early age. Now, with the best method of rearing cattle, or that which is most conducive to their health, the medical profession are only indirectly concerned; but of the dietetic value of animals so reared for food, the profession are, or should be, the immediate overseers and arbitrators. ‘‘ These were those to which the judges had awarded the highest prizes, as specimens of healthy rearing and feeding—viz., the gold and silver medal prize bullocks, heifers, pigs, and sheep (which remained in London), The Traveller’s Note Book. 319 *< This substitution of fat for muscle is proved by the microscope to have ensued. For when thus examined, the muscular fibres no longer presented their characteristic cross markings, but the fibrille within the fibres were entirely broken up, and replaced by bright globules of oily fat. Each fibre contains an abundance of fat particles instead of fibrille within the fibre. The healthy structure of the heart had, there- fore, thoroughly degenerated by the substitution of fat for muscle. ‘«< Fortunately, the thin lining membrane (e7- docardium) had not been ruptured, or the animal would have died instantly. This might have hap- pened at any moment, on the slightest exertion. ‘< This animal, under three years of age, weighed upwards of two hundred stone, and was eating — twenty-one pounds of oil-cake a day, besides other food. <¢ Within about a foot of the termination of the large bowel was a putty-like mass, one inch 320 The Traveller’s Note Book. and a half thick and about one foot long, and which partially surrounded the intestine. The mass consisted, apparently, of scrofulous matter. “ ration ;”’ whilst the words ‘ Ignorance” or ‘*‘ Barbarism,” are now applied to those who have retained the knowledge transmitted by their ancestors, of the useful arts of every-day life. Sophistication is called education, and a “* superior education’’ implies the wilful neglect of instruction in all useful knowledge. The Traveller's Note Book. 328 HOLLY—MISTLETOE—IVY.* IN a conversation with the Hermit, in which I gave him some idea of Arboriculture (as at present practised) in many “ Azghways and byways,” especially as connected with Holly in hedges, I omitted to mention the barbarous and ignorant practice (where a standard holly has been preserved) of cutting all the branches off close to the stem, up to the top, where a few boughs only are permitted to, remain, giving that beautiful tree exactly the appearance of a besom set up on end, and which disfigurement is incurable, because the holly-tree never puts out new branches when cut close to the stem. It is very strange that the propagation of the MIsTLETOE is not better understood — its beauty, independent of its medical properties, as well as its traditional and historical interests, ought to cause its natural history to be more studied, and, consequently, better known ; but perhaps it is less extraordinary that this Bereta 35. + See Appendix No. XLVII. 334 The Traveller’s Note Book. should have been neglected than that the Ivy, which, in all its beautiful varieties, is more or less known in every part of Great Britain, should be the object of such wazversal persecu- tion. ‘The Hermit mentioned a fact relating to the ivy, with which I was previously unac- quainted, and which I do not believe is generally known, although it is in the power of everybody to see and observe, viz., that when it attains a certain age, and is peculiarly ornamental to the tree on which it hangs, it ceases to throw out feelers; consequently, that the outcry that when ivy is old its stem must be cut through, or it will destroy the tree, is one of the most remarkable hallucinations of the present age. When ivy is old, it ceases to be attached to the stem round which it is twisted, excepting by its folds, which are so completely loose from the stem of the tree that a hand may be fre- quently passed between the ivy and the tree, while the upper boughs are supported by festoons from branch to branch; consequently, if the ivy is merely thinned sufficiently above (when it becomes top-heavy), to prevent too The T; Lip PL Note Book. peas _ great a weight upon the small boughs of the tree, it cannot in any way injure the tree; and yet ivy, in the state above described, appears to be a favourite mark for the axe to sever. The Hermit pointed out to me several beautiful evergreen trees in the winter, which at a dis- tance I did not identify to be ivy, and I won- dered what bright and shining standard ever- greens thus enlivened his wood; but he ex- plained that these verdant objects were simply produced by planting ivy (or preserving it when wild) to grow up dead trees, which, being at length entirely covered, resembled standard evergreens of the most brilliant tint. I agree with the Hermit that a series of ex- periments might be made, with interesting and useful results, to ascertain at what age ivy ceases to adhere to the tree against which it grows,—also, the different characteristics of the various sorts of ivy. ‘The Hermit is of opinion that the very diminutive wild ivy, which grows especially on walls, the stem of which seldom attains any bulk, and which forms a beautiful network all over the stones, is a great pre- 3 336 The Travellérié Note Book. servative to mason-work,: and ought to be specially planted and encouraged against park- walls, in preference to the ivy, generally called Irish, which, however, is not believed to be indigenous in that country. ROADS, HEDGES, AND BANKS.* I HAvE had aconversation with the Hermit, on the present frequent #zsmanagement, and actual destruction of live fences, on the sides of high- ways and byways, but he was so anxious that I should return to my lessons in the cu/inary art, that he did not then give me time to tell him the anecdote I was about to narrate, of the discovery of a friend of mine, as to the immediate cause of the miserable system by which the banks, on the sides of roads, are so maltreated, that the hedges and roadside timber are frequently undermined ; but he afterwards requested me to write it down, and to illustrate it with my pencil,-- and expressed his opinion that if I placed the narra- tive in my Note Book, with the sketches, it * See page 238. - + See'Plate:VIII. Oh 4) { Ny : So = i. Sas > 5 = = Ss = NS a et 3 AS ae <= S : ea LS oe = = i: ay = = = A — eS SSS SSS 3 —~ =—S = ie eee R. 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