XXI | Fish.
Perhaps it has not been sufficiently remarked that the science of ichthyophagy is generally developed in a direct ratio with the civilization of a people. Man began at first by satisfying the imperious necessities of his stomach; he then eat to live, and all was good to him. Experience by degrees gave rise to eclectism—choice. It was then discovered that a coarse and solid food might be replaced by a delicate and savoury alimentation; joyous appetite, and sensuality, its effeminate companion, took the place of hunger, and this happy couple gave birth to the more amiable of fairies, who, under the name of Gastronomy, was soon to govern the world and prescribe to it imperishable laws.
It is asserted that the art of preparing fish was one of the first boons of this powerful sovereign, and that, instructed by her, Thetis rendered ichthyophagist the god of light and the fine arts.[XXI_1]
The Jews, an agricultural people, living far from the borders of the sea, attached but very little importance to fishing and the researches necessarily attendant on it; so much so, that we hardly perceive any trace among them of this kind of food, which Moses did not entirely interdict, since that wise legislator was satisfied with prohibiting fishes without scales or fins.[XXI_2] What an immense wealth remained unexplored! Let us pity them for not having known how to profit by it, notwithstanding the good will of the Phœnicians, inhabitants of the coast, who brought them the produce of their maritime excursions.
Let us say it: the Hebrews were tolerably bad cooks. They possessed most admirable laws, a fertile country, courage and many virtues, but their sobriety never would allow them to understand the art of good living. In that, they are to be pitied.
We must agree that the Egyptians had better taste. Worshippers of certain fish, they used to embalm them[XXI_3] as a means of preservation; and what is still better, they eat others in spite of the example of their priests, who never touched them.[XXI_4] In fact, the preparation of those dishes required the trouble of a little study and culinary labour; therefore, to avoid it, they eat the fish raw when very hungry; the epicures dried them in the sun, and they were served salted on great solemnities.
But it was left to a woman to understand this wholesome and delicate food, and to raise it to the rank it ought always to have occupied.
Gatis—let her be named with admiration—Queen of Syria, and no doubt a beautiful woman, was so fond of fish that, in order to be continually supplied with the choicest quality, she ordered all caught in her kingdom to be brought to her, and that none should be eaten without the royal permission. This law, for it really was one, created great dissatisfaction; but she very sensibly allowed them to complain, and continued to treat herself and those of her privileged subjects whom she condescended sometimes to admit to her table, with the most exquisite dishes of fish, such as the tunny, conger eel, and carp.[XXI_5] It is much to be regretted that the chroniclers of that time have forgotten to transmit to us the name of the cook of this illustrious Queen, and the recipes of the sauces she preferred.
With great pleasure we turn to the Greeks, that charming people who had only to set their foot on the most barren soil to cover it with flowers, and who laid the foundation of ichthyophagy as well as all other sciences.
It appears, however, that, at first, they thought but little of fish as an aliment. None had ever been served to the heroes of Homer, and Ulysses, relating that his hungry companions had partaken of some fish, seems to excuse them, by saying: “Hunger pressed their digestive organs.”[XXI_6] To be sure a celebrated philosopher,[XXI_7] and also an amiable epicurean,[XXI_8] attributed this grievous abstinence of those warriors to the fear of being enervated by dishes too delicious. And then, the terrible Achilles and the impetuous Ajax could not, perhaps, make up their minds to degustate under their tents a sole au gratin, or a fried herring, with the slow precaution more humble mortals willingly submit to.
But shortly after that, fresh and salt fish became one of the principal articles of diet with the Hellenes.
Aristophanes and the gastrophilist Athenæus, allude to it a hundred times in their writings, and various personages are the subjects of biting sarcasms on account of their excessive partiality to the mullet, scar, and turbot. We may name, among others, Philoxenes of Cythera, who learning from his doctor that he was going to die of indigestion, for having eaten too much of a most exquisite fish: “Be it so,” he calmly exclaimed; “but, before I go, allow me to finish the remainder.”[XXI_9]
Everyone knows the witty jokes of Lucian, who informs us that he knew a philosopher who examined, with the most serious comicality, the nature of the soul of an oyster.[XXI_10]
Highly favoured by the neighbourhood of the sea, the Greek population applied themselves, with that peculiar taste which characterized them, to distinguish the best species; and skilful cooks knew how to give to fish the most refined flavour, thanks to the numerous combinations of ingredients which we too have learned from the ancient authors who have written on dietetics. They possessed various ways of preparing them with salt or oil, and aromatics.[XXI_11] Athenæus has transmitted to us some very important precepts upon their seasoning. Æschylus and Sophocles were not above lowering their tragic muse by sometimes introducing remarks on fish sauce.
The productions of the sea had for Athens such an irresistible interest, that a law of police forbad all fishmongers to sit down until they had parted with the whole of their stock; so that the uncomfortable position of standing made them more submissive, and induced them to dispose of the fish at a more reasonable price.[XXI_12] This regulation in the “Billingsgate” of Athens was very rigorously observed, and the purchasers were highly delighted with it.
They also required that the fish should always be out of the water; and this wise law, consequently, did not allow its being preserved, or the price to be increased.[XXI_13] And finally, as soon as any kind of fish was brought to market, they were required to call the customers together immediately, by a kind of market-bell, which was a sort of invitation to come and make their purchases.[XXI_14]
Some would-be philosophers, members of the opposition of that period, thought of raising their voices against the common taste. Symmachus, Polycrates, and Lamprias, tried to prove, in their writings, that those who eat fish were the most cruel and ferocious of men. These tender ichthyophilists were laughed at, and their works had no sale.
The Romans inherited the predilection of the Greeks, “For the dumb companions of the fair Amphitryte;” but, excited by the love of the marvellous, they stocked the sea with imaginary beings; and they saw whales of four acres, fishes of two hundred cubits, and even that eel, or that serpent, which veridical navigators have seen again in our days. It was then thirty feet in length,[XXI_15] but now it is much longer!
Pliny, who believed so many things, swore to these by the twelve great gods of Olympus. At all events, we are much indebted to that laborious naturalist for very precious information. He has made us acquainted with the scare, which the Roman epicures preferred to every other species. After the scare, the eel-pout or lotas’-liver enjoyed a great reputation. The red mullet, which is still much esteemed, was considered as one of the most delicate of dishes, and the Romans in fashionable circles employed it in a refinement of pleasure of a singular kind.
It is well known that this fish, when the scales are removed, still remains of a fine pink colour. The fops of Rome having remarked that, at the death, this colour passed through a succession of the most beautiful shades, the poor mullet was served alive, inclosed in a glass vessel; and the guests, attentive and greedy of emotions, enjoyed this cruel spectacle, which presented to them a gradation of colours, which insensibly disappeared.[XXI_16]
The greatest sensualists killed it in brine, and Apicius was the first who invented this kind of luxury. The brine most in use, in such cases, was made with the blood of mackerel, and that was one of the varieties of that famous garum so highly praised by the Latin authors, and which was to them, at that period, what the fish sauces of the English are now. We will give, in this work, the various preparations of this so celebrated condiment, and the reader will then be able to judge for himself.
Apicius, the man of culinary progress, proposed a prize to any one who could invent a new brine made with the liver of red mullets. History has not transmitted to us the name of the fortunate conqueror; but Juvenal informs us that Asinius Celer offered sixty pounds for one of these fishes which weighed six pounds.[XXI_17]
This was, after all, but a trifling folly, in the midst of so many extravagances which several writers have carefully registered. Lucullus, the most ostentatious of the patricians, had a mountain cut through in the neighbourhood of Naples, so as to open a canal and bring up the sea and its fishes to the centre of the gardens of his sumptuous villa.[XXI_18]
The love of fish became a real mania: turbots excited a furore of admiration—the muræna Helena was worshipped. Hortensius, the orator, actually wept over the death of the one he had fed with his own hands; the daughter of Drusus ornamented hers with golden rings; each had a name, and would come with speed when it heard the voice of the master, whose happiness depended on his fish.[XXI_19]
Sometimes, in a moment of over tenderness for his dear muræna Helena, Vedius Pollio, a Roman knight of the highest distinction, and one of the intimate friends of the Emperor Augustus, could find nothing better to do than to feed them with the flesh of his slaves, who were thrown to them alive.[XXI_20] It is true that these wretched creatures generally deserved this terrible chastisement; for instance, Seneca speaks of one who had the awkwardness to break a crystal vase[XXI_21] while waiting at supper on the irascible Pollio. This unfortunate slave having managed to escape from the hands of those who were conducting him to this horrible death, he went and fell on his knees at the feet of Cæsar, whom he implored to inflict some less frightful torture. Augustus, moved to the very soul, granted him his liberty, had all of Vedius’s vases broken, and ordered that the pieces should be used to fill up the reservoir in which the barbarous knight fed his muræna Helena.[XXI_22]
Having given this rapid sketch of the principal periods of ichthyophagy among the ancients, little remains to be said of later ages in which we find few traces of any particular or excessive predilection for this kind of alimentation. If we are to believe Dio,[XXI_23] the first inhabitants of Great Britain never eat fish. The English have not thought it expedient to imitate their ancestors in this respect.
Under the reign of Edward II., certain fish, especially the sturgeon, never appeared in England except on the table of the king: it was prohibited to all others. In 1138, Stephen wanted to modify this interdiction; but after his reign it was again in vigour, and considered as a royal prerogative.
In France, anybody could eat fish, of any and all kinds; but every fishmonger was obliged to obtain permission from the king to sell it.[XXI_24]
The sumptuary laws of that kingdom inform us of nothing very interesting on this essential of gastrology. We find, however, by the Edict of 1294, that Philip-le-Bel allowed, on fast-days, two herring-pottages, and only one sort of fish—a meagre dinner, if ever there was one, and which, thank heaven, has fallen into complete disuse. Louis XII. was very fond of good cheer, and, consequently, he appointed six fishmongers to supply his table with fresh-water fish;[XXI_25] Francis I. had twenty-two;[XXI_26] Henry the Great, twenty-four.[XXI_27]
Under the reign of Louis XIV. fish acquired a singular vogue in the city as well as at court, owing to the marvellous talent of that prince’s cook, who discovered the art, supposed to be lost, of giving to the delicate flesh of the pike, the carp, and the trout, the shape and flavour of the most exquisite game.
At this period we have the celebrated Vatel, one of the most illustrious officers of the household that ever flourished in the palace of the Princes of Condé. This inimitable major-domo understood that a dinner without fish was a cheerless one. One day when his noble master entertained Louis XIV. at a royal banquet, at Chantilly, which the genius of Vatel rendered more brilliant, the fish from the coast failed; he sent everywhere, but none could be found. He was completely bewildered: he met his august master, whose kind words, full of benevolence, only served to increase his desperation; he left him, ran to his chamber, took his sword, and three times pierced his heart. Shortly after, fish arrived from all quarters. Vatel was called—no Vatel! He was sought for, and at last discovered—Vatel was no more!
It appears that, in former times, there was a remarkable consumption of fish in England on the 4th of July, the Festival of St. Ulric. The following verses, by Barnaby Gouge prove it:—