 Section 10 of Manners, Customs and Dress. Butcher's Meat. According to Strabo the Gauls were great eaters of meat, especially of pork, whether fresh or salted. Gaul says he feeds so many flocks, and above all so many pigs, that it supplies not only Rome, but all Italy with grease and salt meat. The second chapter of the Selec Law, comprising 19 articles, relates entirely to penalties for pigs dealing, and in the laws of the Visigoths we find four articles on the same subject. In those remote days, in which the land was still covered with enormous forests of oak, great facilities were offered for breeding pigs, whose special liking for acorns is well known. Thus the bishops, princes and lords caused numerous droves of pigs to be fed on their domains, both for the purpose of supplying their own tables, as well as for the fares and markets. At a subsequent period it became the custom for each household, whether in town or country, to rear and fasten a pig, which was killed and salted at a stated period of the year, and this custom still exists in many provinces. In Paris, for instance, there was scarcely a bourgeois who had not two or three young pigs. During the day these unsightly creatures were allowed to roam in the streets, which, however, they helped to keep clean by eating up the refuse of all sorts which was thrown out of the houses. One of the sons of Louis Le Gaul, while passing on the 2nd of October 1131 in the rue du Mar-trois between the Hôtel de Ville and the Church of Saint-Gervais, fractured his skull by a fall from his horse, caused by a pig running between that animal's legs. This accident led to the first order being issued by the provosts to the effect that breeding pigs within the town was forbidden. Custom, however, deep-rooted for centuries resisted this order, and many others on the same subject which followed it. For we find, under Francis I, a licence was issued to the executioner, empowering him to capture all the stray pigs which he could find in Paris, and to take them to the Hôtel d'Eure, when he should receive either five sous in silver or the head of the animal. It is said that the holy men of Saint-Antoine invert you of the privilege attached to the popular legend of their patron, who was generally represented with a pig, objected to this order, and long after maintained the exclusive right of allowing their pigs to roam in the streets of the capital. The obstinate determination with which everyone tried to evade the administrative laws on this subject is explained, in fact, by the general taste of the French nation for pork. This taste appears somewhat strange at a time when this kind of food was supposed to engender leprosy, a disease with which France was at that time overrun. Pigs' meat made up generally the greater part of the domestic banquets. There was no great feast at which hams, sausages, and black puddings were not served in profusion on all the tables. And as Easter Day, which brought to a close the prolonged fastings of lent, was one of the great feasts, this food formed the most important dish on that occasion. It is possible that the necessity for providing for the consumption of that day originated the celebrated ham fair, which was and is still held annually on the Thursday of Passion Week in front of Notre-Dame, where the dealers from all parts of France, and especially from Normandy and Lower Brittany, assembled with their swine. Sanitary measures were taken in Paris and in the various towns in order to prevent the evil effects likely to arise from the enormous consumption of pork. Public offices, called Langoyeur, were ordered to examine the animals to ensure that they had not white ulcers under the tongue, these being considered the signs that their flesh was in a condition to communicate leprosy to those who partook of it. For a long time the retail sale of pork was confined to the butchers, like that of other meat. Salt or fresh pork was at one time always sold raw, though at a later period some retailers who carried on business principally among the lowest orders of the people took to selling cooked pork and sausages. They were named charcuitier or saucissier. This new trade, which was most lucrative, was adopted by so many people that Parliament was forced to limit the number of charcuitiers, who at last formed a corporation and received their statutes, which were confirmed by the King in 1475. Amongst the privileges attached to their calling was that of selling red herrings and sea fish in Lent, during which time the sale of pork was strictly forbidden. Although they had the exclusive monopoly of selling cooked pork, they were at first forbidden to buy their meat of any one but of the butchers, who alone had the right of killing pigs, and it was only in 1513 that the charcuitier were allowed to purchase at market and sell the meat raw, in opposition to the butchers, who in consequence gradually gave up killing and selling pork. Although the consumption of butchers' meat was not so great in the Middle Ages as it is now, the trade of a butcher, to which extraordinary privileges were attached, was nevertheless one of the industries which realised the greatest profits. We know what an important part the butchers played in the municipal history of France, as also of Belgium, and we also know how great their political influence was, especially in the 15th century. The existence of the great slaughterhouse of Paris dates back to the most remote period of monarchy. The parish church of the Corporation of Butchers, namely that of Saint-Pierre-au-Beu in the city, on the front of which were two sculptured oxen, existed before the 10th century. A Celtic monument was discovered on the site of the ancient part of Paris, with a bar relief representing a wild bull carrying three cranes, standing among oak branches. Archaeology has chosen to recognise in this sculpture a druidical allegory which has descended to us in the shape of the triumphal car of the prize ox. The butchers, who for centuries at least in France only killed sheep and pigs, proved themselves most jealous of their privileges, and admitted no strangers into their corporation. The proprietorship of stalls at the markets, and the right of being admitted as a master butcher at the age of seven years and a day, belonged exclusively to the male descendants of a few rich and powerful families. The kings of France alone, on their accession, could create a new master butcher. Since the middle of the 14th century the Grand Boucherie was the seat of an important jurisdiction, composed of a mayor, a master, a proctor, and an attorney. It also had a judicial council, before which the butchers could bring up all their cases, and an appeal from which could only be considered by Parliament. Besides this court, which had to decide cases of misbehaviour on the part of the apprentices, and all their appeals against their masters, the corporation had a council in Parliament, as also one at the Châtelet, who were specially attached to the interests of the butchers, and were in their pay. Although bound at all events with their money to follow the calling of their fathers, we find many descendants of ancient butcher's families of Paris, in the 14th and 15th centuries, abandoning their stalls to fill high places in the state, and even at court. It must not be concluded that the rich butchers in those days occupied themselves with the minor details of their trade. The greater number employed servants who cut up and retailed the meat, and they themselves simply kept the accounts, and were engaged in dealing through factors or foremen for the purchase of beasts for their stalls. One can form an opinion of the wealth of some of these tradesmen by reading the enumeration made by an old chronicler of the property and income of Guillaume de Saint-Yon, one of the principal master butchers in 1370. Quote, he was proprietor of three stalls, in which meat was weekly sold to the amount of 200 livres par ici, the livre being equivalent to twenty-four francs at least, with an average profit of ten to fifteen percent. He had an income of six hundred livres par ici. He possessed besides his family house in Paris, four country houses, well supplied with furniture and agricultural implements, drinking cups, vases, cups of silver, and cups of onyx with silver feet, valued at a hundred francs or more each. His wife had jewels, belts, purses, and trinkets to the value of upwards of a thousand gold francs. The gold franc was worth twenty-four livres. Long and short gowns trimmed with fur, and three mantles of grave fur. Guillaume de Saint-Yon had generally in his storehouses three hundred ox hides, worth twenty-four francs each at least, eight hundred measures of fat, worth three-and-a-half souls each. In his sheds he had eight hundred sheep, worth a hundred souls each. In his safes five hundred or six hundred silver florins of ready money. The florin was worth twelve francs, which must be multiplied five times to estimate its value in present currency. And his household furniture was valued at twelve thousand florins. He gave a diary of two thousand florins to his two nieces, and spent three thousand florins in rebuilding his Paris house. And, lastly, as if he had been a noble, he used a silver seal. End quote. We find in the Minergie de Paris curious statistics respecting the various butcher's shops of the capital, and the daily sale in each at the period referred to. This sale, without counting the households of the king, the queen, and the royal family, which were specially provisioned, amounted to twenty-six thousand six hundred and twenty-four oxen, one hundred and sixty-two thousand seven hundred and sixty sheep, twenty-seven thousand four hundred and fifty-six pigs, and fifteen thousand nine hundred and twelve calves per annum, to which must be added not only the smoked and salted flesh of two hundred or three hundred pigs, which were sold at the fair in Holy Week, but also six thousand four hundred and twenty sheep, eight hundred and twenty-three oxen, eight hundred and thirty-two calves, and six hundred and twenty-four pigs, which, according to the Minergie, were used in the royal and princely households. Sometimes the meat was sent to market already cut up, but the slaughter of beasts was more frequently done in the butcher's shops in the town, for they only killed from day to day according to the demand. Besides the butcher's there were tripe shops, where the feet, kidneys, etc. were sold. According to Breux-Arrin Champierre, during the sixteenth century the most celebrated sheep in France were those of Berry and Limousin, and of all butcher's meat, Veil was reckoned the best. In fact, calves intended for the tables of the upper classes were fed in a special manner. They were allowed for six months, or even for a year, nothing but milk, which made their flesh most tender and delicate. Contrary to the present taste, kid was more appreciated than lamb, which caused the hôtisseur frequently to attach the tail of a kid to a lamb, so as to deceive the customer and sell him a less expensive meat at the higher price. This was the origin of the proverb which described a cheat as a dealer in goat by halves. In other places, butcher's were far from acquiring the same importance which they did in France and Belgium, where much more meat was consumed than in Spain, Italy or even in Germany. Nevertheless, in almost all countries there were certain regulations, sometimes eccentric, but almost always rigidly enforced, to ensure a supply of meat of the best quality and in a healthy state. In England, for instance, butcher's were only allowed to kill bulls after they had been baited with dogs, no doubt with the view of making the flesh more tender. At Moss it was laid down in the trade regulations that, quote, no butcher shall be so bold as to sell meat unless it shall have been previously seen alive by two or three persons who will testify to it on oath, and anyhow they shall not sell it until the persons shall have declared it wholesome, end quote, etc. To the many regulations affecting the interests of the public must be added that forbidding butcher's to sell meat on days when abstinence from animal food was ordered by the church. These regulations applied less to the vendors than to the consumers who, by disobeying them, were liable to fine or imprisonment, or to severe corporal punishment by the whip or in the pillory. We find that Clément Marreau was imprisoned and nearly burned alive for having eaten pork in Lent. In 1534 Guillaume des Moulins, Count of Brie, asked permission for his mother, who was then eighty years of age, to cease fasting. The Bishop of Paris only granted dispensation on condition that the old lady should take her meals in secret and out of sight of everyone, and should still fast on Fridays. In a certain town, says Brontome, there had been a procession in Lent. A woman who had assisted at it barefooted went home to dine off a quarter of lamb and a ham. The smell got into the street, the house was entered. The fact being established the woman was taken and condemned to walk through the town with her quarter of lamb on the spit over her shoulder and the ham hung round her neck. This species of severity increased during the times of religious dissensions. Erasmus says he who has eaten pork instead of fish is taken to the torture like a parasite. An edict of Henry II, 1549, forbads the sale of meat in Lent to persons who should not be furnished with a doctor's certificate. Charles IX forbads the sale of meat in Lent about the sale of meat to the Huguenots, and it was ordered that the privilege of selling meat during the time of abstinence should belong exclusively to the hospitals. Orders were given to those who retailed meat to take the address of every purchaser, although he had presented a medical certificate, so that the necessity for his eating meat might be verified. Subsequently the medical certificate required to be endorsed by the priest, specifying what quantity of meat was required. Even in these cases the use of butcher's meat alone was granted, pork, poultry, and game being strictly forbidden. Poultry. A monk of the Abbey of Cluny once went on a visit to his relations. On arriving he asked for food, but as it was a fast day he was told there was nothing in the house but fish. Perceiving some chickens in the yard he took a stick and killed one, and brought it to his relations, saying, This is the fish which I shall eat today. There, but my son, they said, have you dispensation from fasting on a Friday? No, he answered, but poultry is not flesh. Fish and vows were created at the same time. They have a common origin as the hymn which I sing in the service teaches me. This simple legend belongs to the tenth century, and notwithstanding that the opinion of this Benedictine monk may appear strange nowadays, yet it must be acknowledged that he was only conforming himself to the opinions laid down by certain theologians. In 817 the Council of Eilat Chapelle decided that such delicate nourishment could scarcely be called mortification, as understood by the teaching of the Church. In consequence of this an order was issued forbidding the monks to eat poultry except during four days at Easter and four at Christmas. But this prohibition in no way changed the established custom of certain parts of Christendom, and the faithful persisted in believing that poultry and fish were identical in the eyes of the Church, and accordingly continued to eat them indiscriminately. We also see in the middle of the 13th century Saint Thomas Aquinas, who was considered an authority in questions of dogma and of faith, ranking poultry amongst species of aquatic origin. Eventually this palpable error was abandoned, but when the Church forbade Christians the use of poultry on fast days, it made an exception, out of consideration for the ancient prejudice, in favour of teal, widgen, mohens, and also two or three kinds of small amphibious quadrupeds. Hence probably arose the general and absurd beliefs concerning the origin of teal, which some said sprung from the rotten wood of old ships, others from the fruits of a tree, or the gum on fir trees, whilst others thought they came from a freshwater shell, analogous to that of the oyster and mussel. As far back as modern history can be traced, we find that a similar mode of fattening poultry was employed then as now, and was one which the Gauls must have learnt from the Romans. Amongst the charges in the households of the kings of France, one item was that which concerned the poultry house, and which, according to an edict of Saint Louis in 1261, bears the name of Poulayet. At a subsequent period this name was given to breeders and dealers in poultry. The ménagerie tells us that, as is the present practice, chickens were fattened by depriving them of light and liberty, and gorging them with succulent food. Amongst the poultry yards in repute at that time the author mentions that of Esdain, a property of the dukes of Luxembourg in Artois, that of the king at the Hotel Saint-Paul, Rue Saint-Antoine, Paris, that of Master Hugue Aubriot, Provost of Paris, and that of Charleau, no doubt a bourgeois of that name, who also gave his name to an ancient street in that quarter called the Marais. Capons are frequently mentioned in poems of the 12th and 13th centuries, but the name of the Poulard does not occur until the 16th. We know that under the Roman rule the Gauls carried on a considerable trade in fattened geese. This trade ceased when Gaul passed to new masters, but the breeding of geese continued to be carefully attended to. For many centuries geese were more highly prized than any other description of poultry, and Charlemagne ordered that his domains should be well stocked with flocks of geese which were driven to feed in the fields like flocks of sheep. There was an old proverb, who eats the king's goose, returns the feathers in a hundred years. This bird was considered a great delicacy by the working classes and bourgeoisie. The rotisseurs had hardly anything in their shops but geese, and therefore when they were united in a company they received the name of Waillet or Wailleur. The street in which they were established, with their spits always loaded with juicy roasts, was called Rue des Ous, geese, and this street, when it ceased to be frequented by the Waillet, became by corruption Rue aux Xors. There is every reason for believing that the domestication of the wild duck is of quite recent date. The attempt having succeeded, it was wished to follow it up by the naturalization in the poultry-yard of two other sorts of aquatic birds, namely the shell-drake, ta dorna, and the mohen, but without success. Some attribute the introduction of turkeys into France and Europe to Jacques-Cœur, treasurer to Charles VII, whose commercial connections with the East were very extensive. Others assert that it is due to King Renne, count of Provence, but according to the best authorities these birds were first brought into France in the time of Francis I by Admiral Philippe de Chabot, and Breurin-Champier asserts that they were not known until even later. It was at about the same period that guinea fowls were brought from the coast of Africa by Portuguese merchants, and the travelling naturalist Pierre Belon, who wrote in the year 1555, asserts that in his time, quote, they had already so multiplied in the houses of the nobles, that they had become quite common, end quote. The pea-fowl played an important part in the chivalric banquets of the Middle Ages. According to old poets, the flesh of this noble bird is food for the brave. A poet of the thirteenth century says that thieves have as much taste for falsehood as a hungry man has for the flesh of the peacock. In the fourteenth century poultry yards were still stocked with these birds, but the turkey and the pheasant gradually replaced them, as their flesh was considered somewhat hard and stringy. This is proved by the fact that in 1581 La Nouvelle Coutume du Bourbonnois only reckoned the value of these beautiful birds at two sews and a half, or about three francs of present currency. Game Our forefathers included among the birds which now constitute feathered game, the heron, the crane, the crow, the swan, the stork, the cormorant, and the bitten. These supplied the best tables, especially the first three, which were looked upon as exquisite food fit even for royalty, and were reckoned as thorough French delicacies. There were at that time heronries, as at a later period there were pheasantries. People also ate birds of prey, and only rejected those which fed on carrion. Swans, which were much appreciated, were very common on all the principal rivers of France, especially in the north. A small island below Paris had taken its name from these birds, and has maintained it ever since. It was proverbially said that the charent was bordered with swans, and for the same reason Valenciennes was called Val des signes, or the swan valley. Some authors make it appear that for a long time young game was avoided, owing to the little nourishment it contained and its indigestibility, and assert that it was only when some French ambassadors returned from Venice that the French learnt that young partridges and leverettes were exquisite, and quite fit to appear at the most sumptuous banquets. The menagerie gives not only various receipts for cooking them, but also for dressing chickens when game was out of season, so as to make them taste like young partridges. There was a time when they fattened pheasants as they did capons. It was a secret, says Liebel, only known to the poultry-dealers, but although they were much appreciated the pullet was more so, and realised as much as two crowns each. This does not mean the gold crown, but a current coin worth three livres. Plovers, which sometimes came from boss in cartloads, were much relished. They were roasted without being drawn, as also were turtle doves and larks. Four, says an ancient author, larks only eat small pebbles and sand, doves, grains of juniper and scented herbs, and plovers feed on air. At a later period the same honour was conferred on Woodcocks. Thrushes, starlings, blackbirds, quail, and partridges were in equal repute according to the season. The beck fig, a small bird, like a nightingale, was so much esteemed in Provence that there were feasts at which that bird alone was served, prepared in various ways. But of all birds used for the table none could be compared to the young cuckoo taken just as it was full-fledged. As far as we can ascertain the galls had a dislike to the flesh of rabbits, and they did not even hunt them, for according to Strabo, southern gall was infested with these mischievous animals which destroyed the growing crops and even the barks of the trees. There was considerable change in this respect a few centuries later for every one in town or country reared domesticated rabbits, and the wild ones formed an article of food which was much in request. In order to ascertain whether a rabbit is young Strabo tells us we should feel the first joint of the foreleg when we shall find a small bone free and movable. This method is adopted in all kitchens in the present day. Hares were preferred to rabbits provided they were young, for an old French proverb says, an old hare and an old goose are foomed for the devil. The hedgehog and squirrel were also eaten. As for roe and red deer they were, according to Dr Breuillardin Champierre, morsels fit for kings and rich people. The doctor speaks of fried slices of the young horn of the stag as the daintiest of food, and the ménager de Paris shows how, as early as the fourteenth century, beef was dished up like bears fleshed venison for the use of kitchens in countries where the black bear did not exist. This proves that bears flesh was in those days considered good food. Recording by Ruth Golding Manners, Customs and Dress During the Middle Ages and During the Renaissance Period by Paul Lacroix Section XI Milk, Butter, Eggs and Cheese These articles of food, the first which nature gave to man, were not always and everywhere uniformly permitted or prohibited by the church on fast days. The faithful were for several centuries left to their own judgment on the subject. In fact there is nothing extraordinary in eggs being eaten in lent without scruple, considering that some theologians maintained that the hens which laid them were animals of aquatic extraction. It appears, however, that butter, either from prejudice or mere custom, was only used on fast days in its fresh state, and was not allowed to be used for cooking purposes. At first, and especially amongst the monks, the dishes were prepared with oil, but as in some countries oil was apt to become very expensive and the supply even to fail totally, animal fat or lard had to be substituted. At a subsequent period the church authorised the use of butter and milk, but on this point the discipline varied much. In the fourteenth century Charles the Fifth, King of France, having asked Pope Gregory XI for a dispensation to use milk and butter on fast days, in consequence of the bad state of his health, brought on owing to an attempt having been made to poison him, the Supreme Pontiff required a certificate from a physician and from the king's confessor. He even then only granted the dispensation, after imposing on that Christian King the repetition of a certain number of prayers and the performance of certain pious deeds. In defiance of the severity of ecclesiastical authority we find in the Journal of a Bourgeois of Paris that in the unhappy reign of Charles the Sixth, 1420, for want of oil, butter was eaten in Lent the same as on ordinary non-fast days. In 1491 Queen Anne, Duchess of Brittany, in order to obtain permission from the Pope to eat butter in Lent, represented that Brittany did not produce oil, neither did it import it from southern countries. Many northern provinces adopted necessity as the law, and having no oil used butter, and thence originated that famous toast with slices of bread and butter which formed such an important part of Flemish food. These papal dispensations were, however, only earned at the price of prayers and alms, and this was the origin of the tron pour le beurre, that is, arms box for butter, which are still to be seen in some of the Flemish churches. It is not known when butter was first salted in order to preserve it or to send it to distant places, but this process which is so simple and so natural dates no doubt from very ancient times. It was particularly practised by the Normans and Bretons, who enclosed the butter in large earthenware jars, for in the statutes which were given to the fruiturers of Paris in 1412, mention is made of salt butter in earthenware jars. Lorraine only exported butter in such jars. The fresh butter most in request for the table in Paris was that made at Vendres, which in the month of May the people ate every morning mixed with garlic. The consumption of butter was greatest in Flanders. I am surprised, says Breurin-Champier, speaking of that country, that they have not yet tried to turn it into drink. In France it is mockingly called beurrière, and when anyone has to travel in that country he is advised to take a knife with him if he wishes to taste the good rolls of butter. It is not necessary to state that milk and cheese followed the fortunes of butter in the Catholic world, the same as eggs followed those of poultry. But butter having been declared lawful by the Church, a claim was put in for eggs, and Pope Julius III granted this dispensation to all Christendom, although certain private churches did not at once choose to profit by this favour. The Greeks had always been more rigid on these points of discipline than the people of the West. It is to the prohibition of eggs in Lent that the origin of Easter eggs must be chased. These were hardened by boiling them in a madder bath, and were brought to receive the blessing of the priest on Good Friday, and were then eaten on the following Sunday as a sign of rejoicing. Ancient Gaul was celebrated for some of its home-made cheeses. Pliny praises those of Nîmes and of Mount Lausère in Gévodeau. Marshall mentions those of Toulouse, etc. A simple anecdote handed down by the monk of St. Gaul, who wrote in the ninth century, proves to us that the traditions with regard to cheeses were not lost in the time of Charlemagne. Quote, The emperor in one of his travels alighted suddenly and without being expected at the house of a bishop. It was on a Friday. The prelate had no fish, and did not dare to set meat before the prince. He therefore offered him what he had got, some boiled corn and green cheese. Charles ate of the cheese, but taking the green parts to be bad, he took care to remove it with his knife. The bishop, seeing this, took the liberty of telling his guest that this was the best part. The emperor, tasting it, found that the bishop was right, and consequently ordered him to send him annually two cases of similar cheese to Eilat Chapelle. The bishop answered that he could easily send cheeses, but he could not be sure of sending them in proper condition, because it was only by opening them that you could be sure of the dealer not having deceived you in the quality of the cheese. Well, said the emperor, before sending them cut them through the middle, so as to see if they are what I want. You will only have to join the two halves again by means of a wooden peg, and you can then put the hole into a case. End quote. Under the kings of the Third French Dynasty, a cheese was made at the village of Chaillot, near Paris, which was much appreciated in the capital. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the cheeses of Champagne and of Brie, which are still manufactured, were equally popular, and were hawked in the streets according to the book of street cries in Paris, j'ai bon fromage de Champagne, or il y a fromage de Brie, by my cheese from Champagne and my cheese from Brie. A stache des champs went so far as to say that cheese was the only good thing which could possibly come from Brie. The ménagier de Paris praises several kinds of cheeses, the names of which it would now be difficult to trace owing to their frequent changes during 400 years. But according to the garlic author of this collection, a cheese to be presentable at table was required to possess certain qualities. In proverbial Latin, known Argus, Helena, Maria Magdalena, etc., thus expressed in French rhyme, Neither white like Helena nor weeping as Magdalena, neither Argus nor yet quite blind, and having too a thickish rind, resisting somewhat to the touch, and as a bull should weigh as much, not eyeless, weeping, nor quite white, but firm, resisting, not too light. In 1509 Platina, although an Italian, in speaking of good cheeses mentions those of Chourney in Piccadilly and of Prayamon in Touraine. Charles Estienne praises those of Crapon in Auvergne, the Angelo of Normandy, and the cheeses made from fresh cream which the peasant women of Montreuil and Vincennes brought to Paris in small wickerwork baskets, and which were eaten sprinkled with sugar. The same author names also the Rougere of Lyon, which were always much esteemed, but above all the cheeses of Europe he places the round or cylindrical ones of Auvergne, which were only made by very clean and healthy children of fourteen years of age. Olivier de Serre advises those who wish to have good cheeses to boil the milk before churning it, a plan which is in use at Lodi and Parma, quote, where cheeses are made which are acknowledged by all the world to be excellent, end quote. The Parmesan, which this celebrated agriculturist cites as an example, only became the fashion in France on the return of Charles VIII from his expedition to Naples. Much was thought at that time of a cheese brought from Turkey in bladders, and of different varieties produced in Holland and Zetland. A few of these foreign products were eaten in stews and in pastry, others were toasted and sprinkled with sugar and powdered cinnamon. Le Hormond de Claris, a manuscript which belongs to the commencement of the fourteenth century, says that in a town which was taken by storm the following stores were found. Besides cheese and butter, the Normans, who had a great many cows in their rich pastures, made a sort of fermenting liquor from the butter milk which they called surat, by boiling the milk with onions and garlic and letting it cool in closed vessels. If the author of the ménagerie is to be believed, the women who sold milk by retail in the towns were well acquainted with the method of increasing its quantity at the expense of its quality. He describes how his Fremonté, which consists of a sort of soup, is made, and states that when he sends his cook to make her purchases at the milk market, held in the neighbourhood of the rue de la Savonnerie, des écrivains, and de la vieille monnaie, he enjoins her particularly, quote, to get very fresh cow's milk, and to tell the person who sells it not to do so if she has put water to it. For unless it be quite fresh, or if there be water in it, it will turn," end quote. Fish and shellfish. Fresh waterfish, which was much more abundant in former days than now, was the ordinary food of those who lived on the borders of lakes, ponds, or rivers, or who, at all events, were not so far distant but that they could procure it fresh. There was, of course, much diversity at different periods and in different countries, as regards the estimation in which the various kinds of fish were held. Thus Ozon, who was a native of Bordeaux, spoke highly of the delicacy of the perch, and asserted that chad, pike, and tench should be left to the lower orders, an opinion which was subsequently contradicted by the inhabitants of other parts of Gaul, and even by the countrymen of the Latin poet Gregory of Tours, who loudly praised the Geneva Trout. But a time arrived when the higher classes preferred the freshwater fish of orchi in Flanders and even those of the Lyonnais. Thus we see in the thirteenth century the Bible of Saint Florentin held in great estimation, whereas two hundred years later a man who was of no use or a non-entity was said to resemble a Bible, which is neither good for roasting nor boiling. In a collection of vulgar proverbs of the twelfth century, mention is made amongst the fish most in demand besides the Bible of Saint Florentin above referred to, of the eels of men, the pike of shallow, the lampries of nont, the trout of andelie, and the dace of heirs. The ménagier adds several others to the above list, including blay, chad, roach, and gudgeon, but above all the carp, which was supposed to be a native of southern Europe, and which must have been naturalised at a much later period in the northern waters. The most ancient documents bear witness that the natives of the sea-coasts of Europe, and particularly of the Mediterranean, fed on the same fish as at present. There were, however, a few other sea-fish which were also used for food, but which have since been abandoned. Our ancestors were not difficult to please. They had good teeth and their palates, having been accustomed to the flesh of the cormorant herring and crane, without difficulty appreciated the delicacy of the nauseous sea-dog, the porpoise, and even the whale, which, when salted, furnished to a great extent all the markets of Europe. The trade in salted sea-fish only began in Paris in the twelfth century, when a company of merchants was instituted, or rather re-established, on the principle of the ancient Association of Nantes. This association had existed from the period of the foundation under the Gauls of Lutitia, the city of Fluvial Commerce, and it is mentioned in the letters patent of Louis VII, 1170. One of the first cargoes which this company brought in its boats was that of salted herrings from the coast of Normandy. These herrings became a necessary food during Lent, and was the cry of the retailers in the streets of Paris, where this fish became a permanent article of consumption to an extent which can be appreciated from the fact that Saint-Louis gave annually nearly seventy thousand herrings to the hospitals, plague-houses, and monasteries. Sores et blancs arènes frais poudres, couverts de sel. Herrings smoked fresh and salted. The profit derived from the sale of herrings at that time was so great that it soon became a special trade. It was, in fact, the regular practice of the Middle Ages for persons engaged in any branch of industry to unite together and form themselves into a corporation. Other speculators conceived the idea of bringing fresh fish to Paris by means of relays of posting convences placed along the road, and they called themselves foieurs. Lords were made to distinguish the rights of each of these trades, and to prevent any quarrel in the competition. In these laws all sea fish were comprised under three names, the fresh, the salted, and the smoked, sore. Louis IX, in an edict, divides the dealers into two classes, namely the sellers of fresh fish and the sellers of salt or smoked fish. Besides salt and fresh herrings, an enormous amount of salted mackerel, which was almost as much used, was brought from the sea coast in addition to flat fish, garnets, skate, fresh and salted whiting, and codfish. In an old document of the 13th century about fifty kinds of fish are enumerated, which were retailed in the markets of the kingdom, and a century later the ménagier gives receipts for cooking forty kinds amongst which appears under the name of caspoir, the salted flesh of the whale, which was also called le lard de cahème. This coarse food, which was sent from the northern seas in enormous slices, was only eaten by the lower orders, for according to a writer of the 16th century, quote, were it cooked even for twenty-four hours it would still be very hard and indigestible, end quote. The proverb of the 13th century, which mentioned the fresh water fish then in vogue, also names the sea fish most preferred and whence they came, namely the chad from Bordeaux, the congas from La Rochelle, the sturgeon from Blais, the fresh herrings from Fécor, and the cuttlefish from Coutance. At a later period the conga was not eaten from its being supposed to produce the plague. The turbot, John Dory, scaped and sole, which were very dear, were reserved for the rich. The fishermen fed on the sea dragon. A great quantity of the small sea crayfish were brought into market, and in certain countries these were called salte, because the doctors recommended them to invalids or those in consumption. On the other hand fresh water crayfish were not much esteemed in the 15th and 16th centuries, excepting for their eggs, which were prepared with spice. It is well known that pond frogs were a favourite food of the Gauls and Franks. They were never out of fashion in rural districts, and were served at the best tables, dressed with green sauce. At the same period, and especially during Lent, snails, which were served in pyramid-shaped dishes, were much appreciated, so much so that nobles and bourgeois cultivated snail beds, somewhat resembling our oyster beds of the present day. The inhabitants of the coast at all periods ate various kinds of shellfish, which were called in Italy sea fruit, but it was only towards the 12th century that the idea was entertained of bringing oysters to Paris, and mussels were not known there until much later. It is notorious that Henry IV was a great oyster eater. Sully relates that when he was created a duke, quote, the king came without being expected to take his seat at the reception banquet. But as there was much delay in going to dinner, he began by eating some which he found very fresh, end quote. By which were meant those oysters which were brought by the carriers who brought the fresh fish from the coast to Paris at great speed. End of section 11 Beverages. Beer is not only one of the oldest fermenting beverages used by man, but it is also the one which was most in vogue in the Middle Ages. If we refer to the tales of the Greek historians, we find that the Gauls, who like the Egyptians, attributed the discovery of this refreshing drink to their god Osiris, had two sorts of beer. One called Scythus, made with honey and intended for the rich, the other called Corma, in which there was no honey and which was made for the poor. But Pliny asserts that beer in Gali was called caravisia, and the grain employed for making it brasque. This testimony seems true, as from brasque or brass comes the name Brasseur Brua, and from caravisia Servois, the generic name by which beer was known for centuries, and which only lately fell into disuse. Domition ordered all the vines in Gaul to be uprooted so as to make room for corn. This rigorous measure must have caused beer to become even more general, and although two centuries later progress allowed vines to be replanted, the use of beverages made from grain became an established custom. But in time, whilst the peoples still only drank Servois, those who were able to afford it bought wine and drank it alternately with beer. However, as by degrees the vineyards increased, in all places having a suitable soil and climate, the use of beer was almost entirely given up, so that in central Gaul wine became so common and cheap that all could drink it. In the northern provinces where the vine would not grow, beer naturally continued to be the national beverage. In the time of Charlemagne, for instance, we find the emperor wisely ordered that persons knowing how to brew should be attached to each of his farms. Everywhere the monastic houses possessed breweries, but as early as the reign of Saint Louis, there were only a very few breweries in Paris itself, and in spite of all the privileges granted to their corporation, even these were soon obliged to leave the capital, where there ceased to be any demand for the produce of their industry. They reappeared in 1428, probably in consequence of the political and commercial relations which had become established between Paris and the rich towns of the Flemish bourgeoisie. And then, either on account of the dearness of wine or the caprice of fashion, the consumption of beer again became so general in France, that, according to the Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris, it produced to the revenue two-thirds more than wine. It must be understood, however, that in times of scarcity, as in the years 1415 and 1482, brewing was temporarily stopped, and even forbidden altogether, on account of the quantity of grain which was thereby withdrawn from the food supply of the people. Under the Romans, the real cerfois or beer was made with barley, but at a later period all sorts of grain was indiscriminately used, and it was only towards the end of the 16th century that adding the flour or seed of hops to the oats or barley, which formed the basis of this beverage, was thought of. Estienne Boileau's Book of Trades, edited in the thirteenth century, shows us that, besides the cerfoises, another sort of beer was known, which was called Godal. This name, we should imagine, was derived from the two German words God eil, which mean good beer, and was of a stronger description than the ordinary cerfoises. This idea is proved by the Piccards and the Flemish people calling it double beer. In any case, it is from the word Godal that the familiar expression of Godayi to tipple is derived. In fact, there is hardly any sort of mixture or ingredient which has not been used in the making of beer, according to the fashions of the different periods. When, on the return from the Crusades, the use of spice had become the fashion, beverages as well as the food were loaded with it. Allspice, juniper, resin, apples, breadcrumbs, sage, lavender, gentian, cinnamon and laurel were each thrown into it. The English sugared it, and the Germans salted it, and at times they even went so far as to put darnal into it at the risk of rendering the mixture poisonous. The object of these various mixtures was naturally to obtain high-flavoured beers, which became so much in fashion that to describe the want of merit of persons, or the lack of value in anything, no simile was more common than to compare them to small beer. Nevertheless, more delicate and less blunted palates were to be found, which could appreciate beer sweetened simply with honey, or scented with ambergrits or raspberries. It is possible, however, that these compositions refer to mixtures in which beer, the produce of fermented grain, was confounded with hydromel or fermented honey. Both these primitive drinks claim an origin equally remote, which is buried in the most distant periods of history, and they have been used in all parts of the world, being mentioned in the oldest historical records, in the Bible, the Edda, and in the sacred books of India. In the thirteenth century hydromel, which then bore the name of Borscheraf, Borscherast or Borsche, was composed of one part of honey to twelve parts of water, scented with herbs, and allowed to ferment for a month or six weeks. This beverage, which in the customs and statutes of the Order of Cluny, is termed Potos dulcissimus, the sweetest beverage, and which must have been both agreeable in taste and smell, was specially appreciated by the monks, who feasted on it on the great anniversaries of the church. Besides this, an inferior quality of Borsche was made for the consumption of the lower orders and peasants, out of the honeycomb after the honey had been drained away, or with the scum which rose during the fermentation of the better qualities. Cider, in Latin, sicera, and peri, can also both claim a very ancient origin, since they are mentioned by Pliny. It does not appear, however, that the Gauls were acquainted with them. The first historical mention of them is made with reference to a riposte which Thierry II, King of Burgundy and Orléans, 596-613, son of Shieldebert and grandson of Queen Bruno, gave to Saint-Colombin, in which both cider and wine were used. In the thirteenth century a Latin poet, Guillaume Lebroton, says that the inhabitants of the Ouge and of Normandy made cider their daily drink. But it is not likely that this beverage was sent away from the localities where it was made. For, besides the fact that the Minagier only very curtly mentions a drink made of apples, we know that in the fifteenth century the Parisians were satisfied with pouring water on apples and steeping them, so as to extract a sort of half-sour, half-sweet drink called de Pence. Besides this, Paul-Mieux de Grand-Ménile, a Norman by birth, a famous doctor, and the author of a Latin treatise on wine and cider, 1588, asserts that half a century before cider was very scarce at Roi, and that in all the districts of Côte the people only drank beer. Duperron adds that the Normans brought cider from Biscay when their crops of apples failed. By whom and at what period the vine was naturalised in Gaulle has been a long disputed question, which in spite of the most careful research remains unsolved. The most plausible opinion is that which attributes the honour of having imported the vine to the Phoenician colony who founded Marseille. Pliny makes mention of several wines of the Gauls as being highly esteemed. He nevertheless reproaches the vine-growers of Marseille, Bezier and Narbonne with doctoring their wines, and with infusing various drugs into them which rendered them disagreeable and even unwholesome. Diascorides, however, approved of the custom in use among the alabrogues of mixing resin with their wines to preserve them and prevent them from turning sour, as the temperature of their country was not warm enough thoroughly to ripen the grape. Rooted up by order of demission in 92, as stated above, the vine only reappeared in Gaulle under Protus, who revoked in 282 the imperial edict of his predecessor, after which period the Gallic wines soon recovered their ancient celebrity. Under the dominion of the Franks, who held wine in great favour, vineyard property was one of those which the barbaric laws protected with the greatest care. We find in the Code of the Salions and in that of the Visigoths very severe penalties for uprooting a vine or stealing a bunch of grapes. The cultivation of the vine became general, and kings themselves planted them even in the gardens of their city-palaces. In 1160 there was still in Paris near the Louvre a vineyard of such an extent that Louis VII could annually present six hogs-heads of wine made from it to the rector of St. Nicholas. Philip Augustus possessed about twenty vineyards of excellent quality in various parts of his kingdom. The culture of the vine having thus developed, the wine trade acquired an enormous importance in France. Gascony, Oni, and Saint-Ange sent their wines to Flanders. Guyenne sent hers to England. Foissa writes that in 1372 a merchant fleet of quite two hundred sale came from London to Bordeaux for wine. This flourishing trade received a severe blow in the sixteenth century, for an awful famine having invaded France in 1566, Charles IX did not hesitate to repeat the acts of demission, and to order all the vines to be uprooted and their place to be sown with corn. Fortunately Henry III soon after modified this edict by simply recommending the governors of the provinces to see that, quote, the plowers were not being neglected in their districts on account of the excessive cultivation of the vine, end quote. Although the trade of a wine merchant is one of the oldest established in Paris, it does not follow that the retail sale of wine was exclusively carried on by special tradesmen. On the contrary, for a long time the owner of the vineyard retailed the wine which he had not been able to sell in the cask. A broom, a laurel wreath, or some other sign of the sort hung over a door denoted that any one passing could purchase or drink wine within. When the wine growers did not have the quality and price of their wine announced in the village or town by the public crier, they placed a man before the door of their cellar who enticed the public to enter and taste the new wines. Other proprietors, instead of selling for people to take away in their own vessels, established a tavern in some room of their house where they retailed drink. The monks who made wine extensively also opened these taverns in the monasteries as they only consumed part of their wine themselves, and this system was universally adopted by wine growers, and even by the king and the nobles. The latter, however, had this advantage that whilst they were retailing their wines, no one in the district was allowed to enter into competition with them. This prescriptive rite, which was called Droit de Bonvin, was still in force in the 17th century. Saint Louis granted special statutes to the wine merchants in 1264, but it was only three centuries later that they formed a society, which was divided into four classes, namely hotel keepers, public housekeepers, tavern proprietors, and dealers in wine at Porte, that is, sold to people to take away with them. Hotel keepers, also called Aubergiste, accommodated travellers and also put up horses and carriages. The dealers of Porte sold wine which could not be drunk on their premises. There was generally a sort of window in their door through which the empty pot was passed to be returned filled, hence the expression still in use in the 18th century, vant à oui couper, sale through a cut door. Public housekeepers supplied drink as well as nappe et assiette, tablecloth and plate, which meant that refreshments were also served. And lastly the tavernier sold wine to be drunk on the premises, but without the rite of supplying bread or meat to their customers. The wines of France in most requests from the 9th to the 13th centuries were those of Macon, Caor, Rince, Choisy, Montagy, Marne, Moulin and Orléonet. Amongst the latter there was one which was much appreciated by Henry I and of which he kept a store to stimulate his courage when he joined his army. The little fable of the Battle of Wines, composed in the 13th century by Henry Dandelie, mentions a number of wines which have to this day maintained their reputation. For instance the Bonne in Burgundy, the Saint-Emilion in Créennes, the Chablis, Epernais, Cezanne in Champagne, etc. But he places above all with good reason according to the taste of those days. The Saint-Pourcin of Auvergne, which was then most expensive and in great request. Another French poet, in describing the luxurious habits of a young man of fashion, says that he drank nothing but Saint-Pourcin. And in a poem composed by Jean Brouillant, Secretary of the Châtelet of Paris in 1332, we find Saint-Pourcin wine which you imbibe for the good of your health. Towards 1400 the vineyards of Aïe became celebrated for Champagne as those of Bonne were for Burgundy. And it is then that we find, according to the testimony of the learned pommier de Grand-Ménile, kings and queens making Champagne their favourite beverage. Tradition has it that France is the first, Charquins, Henry VIII and Pope Lyon X, all possessed vineyards in Champagne at the same time. Burgundy, that pure and pleasant wine, was not despised, and it was in its honour that Erasmus said, Happy province, she may well call herself the mother of men, since she produces such milk. Nevertheless the above-mentioned physician, pommier, preferred to Burgundy, quote, if not perhaps for their flavour yet for their wholesomeness, the vines of the Île de France or Vain-Français, end quote, which agree, he says, with scholars, invalids, the bourgeois and all other persons who do not devote themselves to manual labour, for they do not partch the blood like the wines of Gascony, nor fly to the head like those of Orléans and Château-Tierry, nor do they cause obstructions like those of Bordeaux. This is also the opinion of Bacchaeus, who in his Latin treatise on the Natural History of Wines, 1596, asserts that the wines of Paris, quote, are in no way inferior to those of any other district of the kingdom, end quote. These thin and sour wines, so much esteemed in the first periods of monarchy and so long abandoned, first lost favour in the reign of Francis I, who preferred the strong and stimulating productions of the South. Notwithstanding the great number of excellent wines made in their own country, the French imported from other lands. In the thirteenth century, in the Battle of Wines, we find those of Argylla, Spain, and above all those of Cyprus, spoken of in high terms. A century later, Eustace des Champs praised the Rhine wines, and those of Greece, Marmesie, and Grenache. In an edict of Charles VI, mention is also made of the muscatel, rosette, and the wine of Liéppe. Generally the Marmesie, which was drunk in France, was an artificial preparation which had neither the colour nor taste of the Cyprian wine. Olivier de Serres tells us that in his time it was made with water, honey, clary juice, beer grounds, and brandy. At first the same name was used for the natural wine, mulled and spiced, which was produced in the island of Madeira from the grapes which the Portuguese brought there from the Cyprus in 1420. The reputation which this wine acquired in Europe induced France's the first to import some vines from Greece, and he planted fifty acres with them near Fontainebleau. It was at first considered that this plant was succeeding so well that there were hopes, says Olivier de Serres, that France would soon be able to furnish her own Marmesie and Greek wines, instead of having to import them from abroad. It is evident, however, that they soon gave up this delusion, and that for want of the genuine wine they returned to artificial beverages such as vanquie, or cooked wine, which had at all times been cleverly prepared by boiling down new wine and adding various aromatic herbs to it. Many wines were made under the name of Erpe, which were merely infusions of Wormwood, Myrtle, Hyssop, Rosemary, etc., mixed with sweetened wine and flavoured with honey. The most celebrated of these beverages bore the pretentious name of Nectar. Those composed of spices, asiatic aromatics, and honey were generally called white wine, a name indiscriminately applied to liquors having for their bases some slightly coloured wine, as well as to the hypocras, which was often composed of a mixture of foreign liquours. This hypocras plays a prominent part in the romances of chivalry, and was considered a drink of honour, being always offered to kings, princes, and nobles on their solemn entry into a town. The name of wine was also given to drinks composed of the juices of certain fruits, and in which grapes were in no way used. These were the cherry, the currant, the raspberry, and the pomegranate wines, also the mohe, made with the mulberry, which were so extolled by the poets of the 13th century. We must also mention the sour wines, which were made by pouring water on the refuse grapes after the wine had been extracted. Also the drinks made from filbots, milk of almonds, the syrups of apricots and strawberries, and cherry and raspberry waters, all of which were refreshing and were principally used in summer. And lastly tizane, sold by the confectioners of Paris, and made hot or cold with prepared barley, dried grapes, plums, dates, gum, or licorice. This tizane may be considered as the origin of that drink, which is now sold to the poor at a sewer glass, and which most assuredly has not much improved since olden times. It was about the 13th century that Brandy first became known in France, but it does not appear that it was recognized as a liqueur before the 16th. The celebrated physician Arnaud de Villeneuve, who wrote at the end of the 13th century, to whom credit has wrongly been given for inventing Brandy, employed it as one of his remedies, and thus expresses himself about it. Who would have believed that we could have derived from wine a liqueur which neither resembles it in nature, colour or effect? This au devin is called by some au devin, and justly so since it prolongs life. It prolongs health, dissipates superfluous matters, revives the spirits, and preserves youth. Alone, or added to some other proper remedy, it cures colic, dropsy, paralysis, aegu, gravel, etc. At a period when so many doctors, alchemists, and other learned men made it their principal occupation to try to discover that marvellous golden fluid which was to free the human race of all its original infirmities, the discovery of such an elixir could not fail to attract the attention of all such manufacturers of panaceas. It was, therefore, under the name of Au Dor, Aquari, that Brandy first became known to the world, a name improperly given to it, implying, as it did, that it was of mineral origin, whereas its beautiful golden colour was caused by the addition of spices. At a later period, when it lost its repute as a medicine, they actually sprinkled it with pure gold leaves, and at the same time that it ceased to be exclusively considered as a remedy, it became a favourite beverage. It was also employed in distilleries, especially as the basis of various strengthening and exciting liqueurs, most of which have descended to us, some coming from monasteries and others from Chateau, where they had been manufactured. Manors, Customs and Dress During the Middle Ages and During the Renaissance Period by Paul Lacroix Section 13 The Kitchen Soups, Broths and Stews, etc. The French word potage must originally have signified a soup composed of vegetables and herbs from the kitchen garden, but from the remotest times it was applied to soups in general. As the Gauls, according to Atheneus, generally ate their meat boiled, we must presume that they made soup with the water in which it was cooked. It is related that one day Gregory of Tours was sitting at the table of King Chilperic, when the latter offered him a soup specially made in his honour from chicken. The poems of the 12th and 13th centuries mention soups made of peas, of bacon, of vegetables and of groats. In the southern provinces there were soups made of almonds and of olive oil. When Dugaiselin went out to fight the English knight William of Blombour in single combat, he first ate three sorts of soup made with wine, quote, in honour of the three persons in the Holy Trinity, end quote. We find in the menagerie amongst a long list of the common soups, the receipts the which are given, soup made of, quote, dried peas and the water in which bacon has been boiled, end quote, and in lent, quote, salted whale water, end quote. Watercress soup, cabbage soup, cheese soup, and grameau's soup, which was prepared by adding stewed meat to the water in which meat had already been boiled, and adding beaten eggs and verduce. And lastly the soup des sportsvues, which was rapidly made at the hotels for unexpected travellers, and was a sort of soup made from the odds and ends of the larder. In those days there is no doubt but that hot soup formed an indispensable part of the daily meals, and that each person took it at least twice a day, according to the old proverb, soup la soir, soup le matin, c'est l'ordinaire du bon chrétien. Soup in the evening and soup in the morning is the everyday food of a good Christian. The cooking apparatus of that period consisted of a whole glittering array of cauldrons, saucepans, kettles, and vessels of red and yellow copper, which hardly sufficed for all the rich soups for which France was so famous. Thence the old proverb, enfants so les grands soupiers. But besides these soups, which were in fact looked upon as, quote, common and without spice, end quote, a number of dishes were served under the generic name of soup, which constituted the principal luxuries at the great tables in the fourteenth century, but which do not altogether bear out the names under which we find them. For instance there was haricot mutton, a sort of stew, thin chicken broth, veal broth with herbs, soup made of veal, rose, dag, wild boar, pork, hair, and rabbit soup flavored with green peas, etc. The greater number of these soups were very rich, very expensive, several being served at the same time, and in order to please the eye as well as the taste they were generally made of various colors, sweetened with sugar, and sprinkled with pomegranate seeds and aromatic herbs, such as marjoram, sage, thyme, sweet basil, savoury, etc. These descriptions of soups were perfect luxuries, and were taken instead of sweets. As a proof of this, we must refer to the famous soup doré, the description of which is given by Thayavon, head cook of Charles VII, in the following words. Quote, toast slices of bread, throw them into a jelly made of sugar, white wine, yolk of egg, and rose water. When they are well soaked, fry them, then throw them again into the rose water, and sprinkle them with sugar and saffron. End quote. It is possible that even now this kind of soup might find some favor, but we cannot say the same for those made with mustard, hemp seed, millet, verjuice, and a number of others much in repute at that period, for we see in rable that the French were the greatest soup-eaters in the world, and boasted to be the inventors of seventy sorts. We have already remarked that broths were in use at the remotest periods, for from the time that the practice of boiling various meats was first adopted, it must have been discovered that the water in which they were so boiled became savoury and nourishing. In the time of the great King Francis I, says Noël du Thay, in his court de trapel. In many places the saucepan was put onto the table, on which there was only one other large dish of beef, mutton, veal, and bacon, garnished with a large bunch of cooked herbs, the whole of which mixture composed of porridge, and a real restorer and elixir of life. From this came the adage, the soup in the great pot, and the dainties in the hotch-potch. At one time they made what they imagined to be strengthening broths for invalids, though their virtue must have been somewhat delusive, for, after having boiled down various materials in a close kettle, and at a slow fire, they then distilled from this, and the water, thus obtained, was administered as a sovereign remedy. The common sense of Bernat-Palaisie did not fail to make him see this absurdity, and to protest against this ridiculous custom. Take a capon, he says, a partridge, or anything else, cook it well, and then if you smell the broth you will find it very good, and if you taste it you will find it has plenty of flavour, so much so that you will feel that it contains something to invigorate you. Distill this, on the contrary, and take the water then collect it and taste it, and you will find it insipid and without smell except that of burning. This should convince you that your restorer does not give that nourishment to the weak body, for which you recommend it as a means of making good blood, and restoring and strengthening the spirits. The taste for broths made of flour was formally almost universal in France and over the whole of Europe. It is spoken of repeatedly in the histories and annals of monasteries, and we know that the Normans who made it their principal nutriment were so-named bouye. They were indeed almost like the Romans, who in olden times before their wars with eastern nations gave up making bread, and ate their corn simply boiled in water. In the fourteenth century the broths and soups were made with millet flour and mixed wheats. The pure wheat flour was steeped in milk seasoned with sugar, saffron, honey, sweet wine, or aromatic herbs, and sometimes butter, fat, and yolks of eggs were added. It was on account of this that the bread of the ancients so much resembled cakes, and it was also from this fact that the art of the pastry-cook took its rise. Wheat made into gruel for a long time was an important ingredient in cooking, being the basis of a famous preparation called formolte, which was a bouye of milk made creamy by the addition of yolks of eggs, and which served as a liquor in which to roast meats and fish. There were besides several sorts of formolte, all equally esteemed, and Taillon recommended the following receipt which differs from the one above given. First boil your wheat in water, then put into it the juice or gravy of fat meat, or if you like it better, milk of almonds, and by this means you will make a soup fit for fasts, because it dissolves slowly, is of slow digestion, and nourishes much. In this way, too, you can make ordia, or barley soup, which is more generally approved than the sed formolte. End quote. Semolina, vermicelli, macaroni, etc., which were called Italian, because they originally came from that country, have been in use in France longer than is generally supposed. They were first introduced after the expedition of Charles VIII into Italy and the conquest of the Kingdom of Naples, that is in the reign of Louis XII or the first years of the 16th century. Pies, stews, roasts, salads, etc. Pastry made with fat, which might be supposed to have been the invention of modern kitchens, was in great repute amongst our ancestors. The manufacture of sweet and savory pastry was entrusted to the care of the good ménagier of all ranks and conditions, and to the corporation of pastry cooks, who obtained their statutes only in the middle of the 16th century. The united skill of these, both in Paris and in the provinces, multiplied the different sorts of tarts and meat pies to a very great extent. So much was this the case that these ingenious productions became a special art worthy of rivaling even cookery itself. One of the earliest known receipts for making pies is that of Gas de la Bigne, first chaplain of King's John, Charles V and Charles VI. We find it in a sporting poem, and it deserves to be quoted verbatim as a record of the royal kitchen of the 14th century. It will be observed on perusing it that nothing was spared either in pastry or in cookery, and that expense was not considered when it was a question of satisfying the appetite. De quoi tu les appuieras? Et puis après tu me prendras une douzaine d'allouettes, qu'en virant les cailles me mettes, et puis prendras de ses machés et de ses petits oiseaux les. Selon ce que tu en auras, le pâté m'ambietteras. Or te faut faire pourvéance d'un peu de l'art son point de rance que tu tailleras comme tes. S'en sera le pâté poudré. Si tu le veux de bonne guise, tu vertues la grappe y soit mise. D'un bien peu de sel soit poudré. Fait mettre des oeufs en la paste, les croutes un peu rudement faites de fleurs de pur formant. Ni mes espices ni fromages, au four bien un point chaud le met, qui de sondre et l'âtre bien née, et qu'on sera bien un point cuit, il n'est si bon manger ce cuit. Put me in the middle of the pie, three young partridges, large and fat, but take good care not to fail to take six fine quail to put by their side. After that you must take a dozen skylocks, which round the quail you must place. And then you must take some thrushes and such other little birds as you can get to garnish the pie. Further you must provide yourself with a little bacon, which must not be in the least rank, reasty. And you must cut it into pieces of the size of a die and sprinkle them into the pie. If you want it to be in quite good form you must put some sour grapes in and a very little salt. Have eggs put into the paste and the crust made rather hard of the flour of pure wheat. Put in neither spice nor cheese. Put it into the oven just at the proper heat, the bottom of which must be quite free from ashes, and when it is baked enough isn't that a dish to feast on. From this period all treatises on cookery are full of the same kind of receipts for making, quote, pies of young chickens, of fresh venison, of veal, of eels, of bream and salmon, of young rabbits, of pigeons, of small birds, of geese, and of nachua, end quote, a mixture of cod's liver and hashed fish. We may mention also the small pies, which were made of minced beef and raisins similar to our minced pies, and which were hawked in the streets of Paris until their sale was forbidden because the trade encouraged greediness on the one hand and laziness on the other. Ancient pastries owing to their shapes received the name of tort, or tart, from the Latin torta, a large hunch of bread. This name was afterwards exclusively used for hot pies, whether they contained vegetables, meat, or fish. But towards the end of the 14th century, tort and tart was applied to pastry containing herbs, fruits, or preserves, and pâté to those containing any kind of meat, game, or fish. It was only in the course of the 16th century that the name of potage ceased to be applied to stews, whose number equaled their variety, for on a bill of fare of a banquet of that period we find more than fifty different sorts of potage mentioned. The greater number of these dishes have disappeared from our books on cookery having gone out of fashion, but there are two stews which were popular during many centuries and which have maintained their reputation, although they do not now exactly represent what they formerly did. The poupourri, which was composed of veal, beef, mutton, bacon, and vegetables, and the galimafrai, a fricassie of poultry sprinkled with verjuice, flavored with spices, and surrounded by a sauce composed of vinegar, breadcrumbs, cinnamon, ginger, etc. The highest aim of the cooks of the Taillivant school was to make dishes not only palatable, but also pleasing to the eye. These masters in the art of cooking might be said to be both sculptors and painters, so much did they decorate their works, their objects being to surprise or amuse the guests by concealing the real nature of the dishes. Françard, speaking of a repast given in his time, says that there were a number of, quote, dishes so curious and disguised that it was impossible to guess what they were, end, quote. For instance, the Bill of Fair, above referred to, mentions a lion and a sun made of white chicken, a pink jelly with diamond-shaped points. And as if the object of cookery was to disguise food and deceive epicures, Taillivant facetiously gives us a receipt for making fried or roast butter, and for cooking eggs on the spit. The roasts were as numerous as the stews. A treatise of the 14th century names about 30, beginning with a sirloin of beef, which must have been one of the most common, and ending with a swan, which appeared on table in full plumage. This last was the triumph of cookery in as much as it presented this magnificent bird to the eyes of the astonished guests, just as if he were living and swimming. His beak was gilt, his body silvered, resting on a mass of brown pastry painted green in order to represent a grass field. Eight banners of silk were placed round, and a cloth of the same material served as a carpet for the whole dish, which tarred above the other appointments of the table. The peacock, which was as much thought of then as it is little valued now, was similarly arrayed, and was brought to table amidst a flourish of trumpets and the applause of all present. The modes of preparing other roasts much resembled the present system in their simplicity, with this difference that strong meats were first boiled to render them tender, and no roast was ever handed over to the skill of the carver, without first being thoroughly basted with orange-juiced rose water, and covered with sugar and powdered spices. We must not forget to mention the broiled dishes, the invention of which is attributed to hunters, and which Habalé continually refers to as acting as stimulants, and irresistibly exciting the thirst for wine at the sumptuous feasts of those voracious heroes. The custom of introducing salads after roasts was already established in the 15th century. However, a salad of whatever sort was never brought to table in its natural state, for besides the raw herbs, dressed in the same manner as in our days, it contained several mixtures, such as cooked vegetables, and the crests, livers, or brains of poultry. After the salads, fish was served, sometimes fried, sometimes sliced with eggs, or reduced to a sort of pulp, which was called carpe, or charpie, and sometimes it was boiled in water or wine, with strong seasoning. Near the salads, in the course of the dinner, dishes of eggs, prepared in various ways, were generally served. Many of these are now in use, such as the poached egg, the hard-boiled egg, egg sauce, etc. Seasonings We have already stated that the taste for spices much increased in Europe after the Crusades, and in this rapid historical sketch of the food of the French people in the Middle Ages it must have been observed to what an extent this taste had become developed in France. This was the origin of sauces, all or almost all, of which were highly spiced, and were generally used with boiled, roast, or grilled meats. A few of these sauces, such as the yellow, the green, and the cameline, became so necessary in cooking that numerous persons took to manufacturing them by wholesale, and they were hawked in the streets of Paris. These sauce-criers were first called sociés, then vinaigrettes moustardiers, and when Louis XII united them in a body, as their business had considerably increased, they were termed sociés moustardiers vinaigriers, distillers of brandy and spirits of wine, and buffetiers, from buffet as sideboard. But very soon the corporation became divided, no doubt from the force of circumstances, and on one side we find the distillers, and on the other the master cooks and cooks, or porter-chup, as they were called, because when they carried on their business of cooking, they covered their dishes with a chup, that is a coat or tin cover, so as to keep them warm. The list of sauces of the 14th century given by the ménagé de Paris is most complicated, but on examining the receipts it becomes clear that the variety of those preparations intended to sharpen the appetite resulted principally from the spicy ingredients with which they were flavoured, and it is here worthy of remark that pepper, in these days exclusively obtained from America, was known and generally used long before the time of Columbus. It is mentioned in a document of the time of Clotaire III, 660, and it is clear, therefore, that before the discovery of the New World pepper and spices were imported into Europe from the East. Mustard, which was an ingredient in so many dishes, was cultivated and manufactured in the 13th century in the neighbourhood of Dijon and Angers. According to a popular adage, garlic was the medicine, terriac, of peasants. Tarn people for a long time greatly appreciated aille, which was a sauce made of garlic and sold ready prepared in the streets of Paris. The custom of using anchovies as a flavouring is also very ancient. This was also done with botarque and caviar, two sorts of side dishes which consisted of fish's eggs, chiefly mullet and sturgeon, properly salted or dried, and mixed with fresh or pickled olives. The olives for the use of the lower orders were brought from Longuedoc and Provence, whereas those for the rich were imported from Spain and some from Syria. It was also from the south of France that the rest of the kingdom was supplied with olive oil, for which to this day those provinces have preserved their renown. But as early as the 12th and 13th centuries oil of walnuts was brought from the centre of France to Paris, and this, although cheaper, was superseded by oil extracted from the poppy. Truffles, though known and esteemed by the ancients, disappeared from the gastronomic collection of our forefathers. It was only in the 14th century that they were again introduced, but evidently without a knowledge of their culinary qualities, since, after being preserved in vinegar, they were soaked in hot water, and afterwards served up in butter. We may also hear mentioned sorrel and the common mushroom, which were used in cooking during the Middle Ages. On the strength of the old proverb, sugar has never spoiled sauce, sugar was put into all sources which were not pecan, and generally some perfumed water was added to them, such as rose water. This was made in great quantities by exposing to the sauna basin full of water covered over by another basin of glass, under which was a little vase containing rose leaves. This rose water was added to all stews, pastries and beverages. It is very doubtful as to the period at which white lump sugar became known in the West. However, in an account of the house of the Dauphin Viennois, 1333, mention is made of white sugar, and the author of the Ménagie de Paris frequently speaks of this white sugar which, before the discovery or rather colonisation of America, was brought ready refined from the Grecian Islands, and especially from Candia. Third juice, or green juice, which with vinegar formed the essential basis of sauces, and is now extracted from a species of green grape which never ripens, was originally the juice of sorrel. Another sort was extracted by pounding the green blades of wheat. Vinegar was originally merely soured wine, as the word Vainegre denotes. The mode of manufacturing it by artificial means, in order to render the taste more pungent and the quality better, is very ancient. It is needless to state that it was scented by the infusion of herbs or flowers, roses, elder, clothes, etc. But it was not much before the sixteenth century that it was used for pickling herbs or fruits and vegetables, such as gherkins, onions, cucumber, parsley, etc. Salt, which from the remotest periods was the condiment par excellence, and the trade in which had been free up to the fourteenth century, became from that period the subject of repeated taxation. The levying of these taxes was a frequent cause of tumult amongst the people, who saw with marked displeasure the exigencies of the excise gradually raising the price of an article of primary necessity. We have already mentioned times during which the price of salt was so exorbitant that the rich alone could put it in their bread. Thus, in the reign of France's the first, it was almost as dear as Indian spices. Sweet dishes, desserts, etc. In the fourteenth century the first courses of a repast were called main or assiette, the last entremets, dorures, issues du table, dessert, and bout orre. The dessert consisted generally of baked pears, medlars, peeled walnuts, figs, dates, peaches, grapes, filberts, spices, and white or red sugar plums. At the issu de table, wafers or some other light pastry were introduced, which were eaten with the hippocrase wine. The bout orre, which was served when the guests, after having washed their hands and said grace, had passed into the drawing-room, consisted of spices, different from those which had appeared at dessert, and intended specially to assist the digestion. And for this object they must have been much needed, considering that a repast lasted several hours. Whilst eating these spices they drank grenache, marmesie, or aromatic wines. It was only at the banquets and great repasts that sweet dishes and dorures appeared, and they seemed to have been introduced for the purpose of exhibiting the power of the imagination and the talent in execution of the master cook. The dorures consisted of jellies of all sorts and colours. Swans, peacocks, bitons, and herons on gala-feasts were served in full feather on a raised platform in the middle of the table, and hence the name of raised dishes. As for the side dishes, properly so-called, the long list collected in the menagerie shows us that they were served at table indiscriminately. For stuffed chickens at times followed hashed porpoise in sauce, lark pies succeeded lamb sausages, and pike's eggs fritters appeared after orange preserve. At a later period the luxury of side dishes consisted in the quantity and in the variety of the pastry. Rabelay names sixteen different sorts at one repast. Tyavon mentions pastry called covered pastry, bourbonnese pastry, double-faced pastry, pear pastry, and apple pastry. Platina speaks of the white pastry with quints, elder-flowers, rice, roses, chestnuts, etc. The fashion of having pastry is, however, a very ancient date, for in the book of the Proverbs of the thirteenth century we find that the pies of Durlan and the pastry of Chartres were then in great celebrity. In a Charter of Robert Le Bouillon, Bishop of Amiens, in 1311, mention is made of a cake composed of puff flaky paste. These cakes, however, are less ancient than the firm pastry called Bean Cake, or King's Cake, which, from the earliest days of monarchy, appeared on all the tables, not only at the Feast of the Epiphany, but also on every festive occasion. Amongst the dry and sweet pastries from the small oven which appeared at the Isuda Table, the first to be noticed were those made of almonds, nuts, etc., and such choice morsels, which were very expensive. Then came the cream or cheesecakes, the petit choux made of butter and eggs, the eschaudet, of which the people were very fond, and Saint Louis even allowed the bakers to cook them on Sundays and feast days for the poor. Wafers, which are older than the thirteenth century, and lastly the Oublie, which, under the names of Nieuels, Estherets and Supplications, gave rise to such an extensive trade that a corporation was established in Paris, called the Oublayeur, Oublayet or Oublieur, whose statutes directed that none should be admitted to exercise the trade, unless he was able to make in one day five hundred large Oublis, three hundred supplications and two hundred estherets.