Castles, Customs, and Kings: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors (42 page)

Translation:

2 cups (225 g.) fresh white breadcrumbs

1 tsp. (5 ml.) ground ginger

1 tsp. (5 ml.) cinnamon

1 tsp. (5 ml.) aniseed

1 tsp. (5 ml.) ground liquorice (if available)

¼ cup (2.5 g.) sugar

½ cup (150 ml.) claret

Dry the breadcrumbs under the grill or in the oven (but without browning), and add to the remaining ingredients in a saucepan. Work the mixture over a gentle heat with a wooden spoon, until it forms a stiff dough. Turn the dough out onto a wooden board dusted with ground ginger and cinnamon and roll it out to about ¼ inch (5 mm.) in thickness. It may then be impressed with a small stamp, a 1 inch (2.5 cm.) diameter butter press being ideal for this purpose, and cut into small circles, using a pastry cutter. If antique gingerbread molds are available, then they should be dusted with the ground spices before the slab of dough is firmly impressed into their designs. Then, after the surplus has been trimmed off with the knife, the gingerbread can be removed by inverting the molds, and gently knocking their edges down onto the table. Like most early gingerbreads, this version released its flavors gradually, the gentle aniseed being slowly overwhelmed by the fiery ginger.

Neither of the recipes mentions baking, but I think this might be a mistake. Based on modern recipes, I would bake the gingerbread at 375F/190C for about 8-10 minutes.

1907 Gingerbread

2 cups (225g) plain flour

3½ tsp (17.5 ml.) ground ginger

¾ tsp (3.75ml.) ground nutmeg

½ tsp (2.5 ml.) bicarbonate of soda

A pinch of salt

1½ cups (125g) medium oatmeal

½ cup (100g) unsalted butter, softened

2/3 c. cup (125g) light soft brown sugar

Zest of ½ lemon

¼ cup (100g) treacle or molasses

3 tablespoons (75g) golden syrup or corn syrup (or you could use all molasses)

3 ½ tablespoons (50ml) milk

¼ cup (50g) mixed peel, finely chopped

Butter a deep 8-inch (20cm) square cake tin and line the base with nonstick baking parchment. Heat the oven to 350F/180C (160C fan-assisted/gas mark 4). Sift the flour, spices, soda, and salt into a bowl, then stir in the oatmeal. In another bowl beat the butter, sugar, and zest until light and fluffy. Add the treacle and syrup, beat again until creamy and smooth, then add the milk and the dry ingredients, and beat quickly until smooth once more. Fold in the mixed peel, then spoon the mixture into the tin. Cover the top with foil, bake for 40 minutes, then remove the foil and bake for a further 20 minutes, until a skewer comes out clean.

Sources

Brears, Peter C. D. et al.
A Taste of History: 10,000 Years of Food in Britain
. London: English Heritage in association with British Museum Press, 1993.

Schmidt, Alexander.
Shakespeare Lexicon and Quotation Dictionary: A Complete Dictionary of All the English Words, Phrases, and Constructions in the Works of the Poet
. USA: Dover Publications, Inc., 1971.

17th Century Recipes

by Katherin
e Pym

F
rom the book
Samuel Pepys’ Penny Merriments, Being a Collection of Chapbooks, full of Histories, Jests, Magic, Amorous Tales of Courtship, Marriage and Infidelity, Accounts of Rogues and Fools, together with Comments on the Times,
selected and edited by Roger Thompson of the University of East Anglia at Norwich, 1977.

Whew, what a mouthful! Our titles these days are much shorter, with fewer syllables, easier to remember. To remember this, I simply refer to it as
Penny Merriments,
a tome I found in a bookstore and considered a great find. It has all sorts of wonderful information, like recipes to make one beautiful, or a recipe for the newest way to roast a hare. It sends me right back into the era of my choice....

17th century England opened with traders going to far distant shores, but the cost was enormous. Spices were gathered through the Levant Company (owned by noblemen and gentlemen of quality) and the fledgling East India Company. As the century progressed, their ships went to lands already taken by the Spanish and Portuguese.

The Dutch East India Company (VOC) began at about the same time as England’s, but they weren’t hampered by the religious upheaval and civil wars England endured during the first half of the century. The Dutch VOC had a leg up on English merchant shipping until Cromwell decided enough was enough and went to war with Holland in what is known as the First Anglo-Dutch War (1652-54), and which was fought entirely at sea. These wars were over trade and who could monopolize which ports in the East and West Indies.

With that said, the recipes below show an inordinate number of spices which were very costly. During the reign of King James I, a fight to near death took place between VOC and English Merchantmen in the South Seas that decimated the crops of nutmeg on Pulo Run Island in the Banda archipelago.

Through the Levant Company, citrus fruits, dates, pepper, cotton cloth, and other fruits and spices were trekked across the desert sands to ports the Levant Company held in the Mediterranean, then imported via ship to London. (I won’t even mention the pirate contingent that upped the cost of goods.) Once these commodities hit the London markets, they proved expensive for the middling English household.

The below recipes can only come from later in the 17th century, and were directed to the more well-to-do. Middling folk who could read, enjoyed the thoughts of these though....

To Roast a Shoulder of Mutton with Oysters the best way.

Take one not too fat nor too lean, open it in divers places, stuff your oysters in with a little chopt penny-royal
[of the mint family]
, baste it with butter and claret wine, then serve it up with grated nutmeg, yolks of eggs, ginger, cinnamon, butter and red wine vinegar.

To Stew a Leg of Lamb the best way.

Slice it and lay it in order in your stewing-pan, seasoned with salt and nutmeg, adding a pound of butter, and half a pint of claret, with a handful of sliced dates, and the like quantity of currants, and make the sauce with the yolk of two eggs, a quarter pint of verjuice
[acid juice from sour or unripe fruit—very sour],
and two ounces of sugar. Boil them up, and put them over the meat, serving up hot together.

The Art of Beautifying the Hands, Neck, Breast and Face: Harmless and Approved, with other Rare Curiosities.

To make the hands and arms white, clear and smooth. Take a quarter of a pound of sweet almonds, blanch and bruise them, with a quarter of a pint of oil of roses, and the like quantity of betony-water
[plant of the mint family]:
heat them over a gentle fire; and then press out the liquid part, and it will serve for either hands or face anointed therewith.

To take away Freckles, Morphew (scurfy skin) or sunburn.

Steep a piece of copper in the juice of lemon till it be dissolved
[can copper dissolve?],
and anoint the place with a feather morning and evening, washing it off with white wine.

To take off any scurf from the hands and face.

Take water of tartar, that is, such wherein calcined
[burnt to a powder]
tartar has been infused, anoint the place, and wash it as the former
[with white wine].

And now, for the final and most excellent recipe....

To sweeten the Breath, and preserve the Teeth and Gums.

Boil a handful of juniper berries, a handful of sage, and an ounce of caraway seeds in a quart of white wine, til a third part be consumed: strain it and wash your mouth with it morning and evening, suffering a small quantity to pass down: you may whiten the teeth by rubbing them with pumice stone.

So, who wants to try one of these recipes and let me know how it works? I’d especially like to know the results of whitening your teeth with pumice stone. Or should I do a disclaimer? Don’t do this without the guidance of a professional!

The Scent of Lavender

by Lauren Gilbert

I
have loved the scent of lavender since I was a teenager in the ‘60s when Yardley’s English Lavender became a popular fragrance (at least, it was new to me!). Light, fresh, clean and sweet, lavender has an ageless appeal. It is almost impossible to pick up a Regency novel without a mention of lavender, whether it is scenting the hero’s immaculate white linen (a suitably masculine blend, of course), or wafting ever so subtly from the heroine’s lace-edged handkerchief.

Lavender is an ancient herb, long associated with healing. Its Latin name
Lavandula latifolia,
appears to be derived from the Latin verb
lavare,
meaning “to wash” and the Romans used it to deter flies and sweeten the air, as well as to clean and dress wounds. The ancient Egyptians used lavender in embalming and in scented unguents.

It was widely used in Tudor England, where lavender was placed in linens (not only making them smell sweet but discouraging insects!); sewn into little bags, it could be tucked amongst clothing or into one’s bosom. Queen Elizabeth found lavender tea soothing for migraines and used lavender perfume as well.

In the Georgian era, the perfumers D.R. Harris made a popular lavender water for gentlemen, and Floris used lavender in potpourris and perfumes for ladies. (Both are still in business today.)

Down through the centuries, lavender has been long considered something of a miracle herb. In Nicholas Culpeper’s herbal (1653 edition), he says it cures
“all griefs and pains of the head and brain that proceed of a cold cause…”
and also recommends its use for dropsy, heart ailments, liver and spleen obstructions, tooth ache, and more.

Even today, herb guides discuss its antiseptic and painkilling attributes. (Mine says it can be used to soothe insect bites, burns, sore throats and headaches, and is a relaxant when used in the bath, among other medicinal uses!) I know from personal experience that it works wonderfully to deter moths and other insects from my linen closet and pantry—how many modern insect repellents work well, smell wonderful, and have no poisonous effects?

Among many old recipes including lavender that I ran across, two seemed good to include. The first is not adapted for modern preparation, other than the list of ingredients:

Lavender Wine (1655)

1 bottle of Sack, 3 ounces of sugar, 2 ounces of lavender flowers, and ambergris

Take 2 ounces of dryed lavender flowers and put them into a bottle of Sack, and beat 3 ounces of Sugar candy, or fine Sugar, and grinde some Ambergreese, and put it in the bottle and shake it oft, then run it through a gelly bag, and give it for a great Cordiall after a week’s standing or more.

—Derived from a recipe from
The Queen’s Closet Opened,
by W.M., Cook to Queen Henrietta Maria. (From
A Sip Through Time,
by Cindy Renfrow)

The next recipe contains the old version, and an adapted version so that one can make it if desired:

Martha Lloyd’s English Lavender Water

To one quart of the best rectified spirits of wine put 3/4 oz. of essence of Lavender and 1/2 a scruple of ambergris; shake it together and it is fit to use in a few days.

Modern Equivalents:

To make Lavender water, put 3 handfuls of dried Lavender flowers into a wide necked screw top jar and add 1 cup of white wine vinegar and 1/2 cup Rose water.

Leave the mixture in the dark for 2-3 weeks and shake the bottle frequently.

If flowers are not available, use essential oils. Mix 25 drops of essential oil (traditionally lavender, rose or neroli) with 2 fl oz (50ml) ethyl alcohol (or isopropyl or vodka). Shake them together in a screw-top bottle. Leave the mixture to settle for 2 days then shake again. To store, pour into a dark bottle with a tight fitting lid and leave almost no air space.

—This recipe is from the
Jane Austen Centre Bath website
, posted by Laura Boyle 1/3/2002, in its entirety. This is a fascinating website, and well worth a look!

Sources

Boyle, Laura. “English Lavender Water.”
 
Posted January 3, 2002.
Jane Austen Centre Bath
.
http://www.janeausten.co.uk/english-lavender-water/

Bremness, Lesley.
Herbs
. New York:
Dorling Kindersley, 1994.

Culpeper, Nicholas.
The Complete Herbal
(1653 edition). Bibliomania.
http://www.bibliomania.com/2/1/66/113/frameset.html
.

The Georgian Index. “Merchants: Sellers of Perfumes and Other Toilettries.”
Georgian London Street and Business Index
.
http://www.georgianindex.net/London/l_merchants.html
.

Lavender Enchantment. “History of Lavender.”
http://www.lavenderenchantment.com/History_Lore/history.htm

Lavender Farm. “The History of Lavender.”
http://www.lavenderfarm.com/history.htm

Renfrow, Cindy.
A Sip Through Times: A Collection of Old Brewing Recipes
. USA: Cindy Renfrow, 2008.

Marriage in 17th Century England

by Katherine Pym

M
arriage in England during the 17th century was confusing. Due to the various governments playing musical chairs for much of the century, the rules continually changed. Ministers who were safe one moment were tossed out of their vocations the next. These inconsistencies brought about corruption and fraudulent marriages. They left honest couples in doubt.

During the reign of Charles I, marriage ceremonies in the Church with the
Book of Common Prayer
prevailed. Under the Commonwealth, couples were to be married by their local JP, but too many did not consider this proper or binding. These couples married clandestinely in a home, tavern, prison, and even brothels with an Anglican minister and the forbidden
Book of Common Prayer
. The couple spoke their vows in the present tense, for to do otherwise could provide a loophole for an unhappy spouse to later invalidate the marriage.

The rules of incest were also confusing. An apprentice could not marry his master’s daughter. A woman could not marry her brother-in-law after her husband died. The laws declared they were family within the fourth degree.

Due to these conflicting rules, good folk joined under the king’s reign did not know if their marriage was legal under the Commonwealth, and vice versa. This doubt gave way to excuses, and unhappy couples separated to marry another. Bigamy was rampant and perjury in the courts flagrant.

In the 1640s clandestine marriages multiplied due to suppression of the Anglican Church. Marriage shops called Peculiars popped up all over London to accommodate this new vogue. Anglican ministers who lost their professions under the Commonwealth and were in debtor’s prison, set up a marriage shop in Fleet Prison chapel. “Ministers” would fill in names of the couple on the certificate otherwise already completed and signed. For a small tip, clerks were called in to witness, the spaces already filled in with names more than likely not their own.

These clerics never asked the couple questions: (1) if they were already married, (2) if one or the other was an in-law, or an apprentice. If the person presiding over the ceremony
said
he was a member of the clergy, and if the vows were stated in the present tense, the couple considered themselves newly joined in marriage—which only time or a change of heart could put asunder.

In 1660 after Charles II returned from exile, the sanctioned religion again became the Church of England, but the Ecclesiastical Courts were in ruins. It took a while for the churches to reintroduce Anglican accoutrements, and clandestine marriages continued unabated.

The reinstated Anglican officials tried to stop the clandestine marriages but failed. Marriage shops sent criers with fistfuls of ready-made marriage certificates to markets to promote the inexpensive, quick unions that only money could dissolve.