From the first ages of the world man has passionately loved the exercise of hunting; the dangers he then encountered inflamed his courage. It was glorious to struggle with the terrible inhabitants of the forest or the desert; to conquer them; to bring home their bleeding spoils; to furnish an heroic name for the songs of poets, and the admiration of posterity. The sacred writings have handed down to us the name of the first mighty hunter before the Lord; Fable, that veiled light of truth, through which it sometimes glimmers, caused Hercules to be ranked with the gods when he had overthrown the lion of NemÆa, the hydra of Lerna, and the wild boar of Erymanthus. Diana descended to the earth, and pursued in the forests the timid stag. Pollux trained the first hunting dogs, and Castor accustomed horses to follow the track of wild beasts. The most grave philosophers, and the most illustrious poets have bestowed praises on the chase. Aristotle advised young men to apply themselves to it early. The warriors of Homer, The ancients hunted in the open country, in forests, and in parks. Mounted on fiery steeds, armed with javelins and long cutlasses, or with swords and lances, The Greeks and Romans reared hunting dogs with extreme care, and they began to make use of them from the age of eight or ten months. The strongest and most courageous came from England and Scotland; Females were generally preferred to the males, The dogs were always chained. Their liberty was only given them at the moment of starting for the chase. The ancients also took game by means of pits covered over with brushwood, in snares, Eastern princes amused themselves by hunting in parks where a great number of wild beasts were kept. By the Roman law, hunting was unrestricted: Besides the pleasure which this amusement afforded, the ancients, like ourselves, discovered profit in it; and the produce of their chase became one of the finest ornaments of their feasts. Isaac ordered his son Esau to go out with his weapons, his quiver and bow, and to prepare for him savoury meat, such as he loved (venison). Cyrus, King of Persia, ordered that venison should never be wanting at his repasts. The English have always loved hunting—the favourite pastime of their kings. Alfred the Great was not twelve years old when he had acquired the reputation of being a skilful and indefatigable hunter. The noble and the wealthy differed from the serfs by their singular taste for this royal diversion; and, in their pursuit of it, they spared neither pains nor expense in procuring those famous dogs of pure race which the ancient Greeks and Romans prized so highly. When Athelstan, Alfred’s grandson, had subdued Constantine King of Wales, he imposed an annual tribute. The vanquished monarch had to give him gold, silver, cattle, and, which is remarkable, a certain number of hawks, and dogs possessing a quick scent, and capable of unkenneling wild beasts. Notwithstanding his great piety, and the extreme reserve of his habits, Edward the Confessor took great delight in following the hounds, and exciting their ardour by his cries. King Harold never appeared anywhere without his favourite hawk on his hand; neither was the approach of the British Nimrod announced otherwise than by the joyous barking of the royal pack. This aristocratic taste became so extremely prevalent under the domination of the Norman kings, that a writer of the twelfth century has judged it with great severity. “In our time,” he says, “hunting is considered as the most honourable occupation, the most excellent virtue. Our nobility show more solicitude, sacrifice more money, and make a greater parade in favour of it, than they would if the question were war. They are more furious in the pursuit of wild beasts, than they would be if they had to conquer the enemies of Great Britain. As a necessary consequence, they no longer retain any sentiment of humanity; they have descended almost to the level of the savage animals they are in the daily habit of tracking and unkenneling.” These uncomplimentary observations of John of Salisbury did not prevent James I. from pursuing the cherished diversion of his predecessors. That prince being one day at the hunt in the environs of Bury St. Edmunds, remarked, among the persons composing his suite, an opulent citizen magnificently dressed, whose rich costume eclipsed that of the lords the most renowned at court for the elegance of their attire. The king asked who the hunter was. Some one replied that it was Lamb. “Lamb, say you?” rejoined the king, laughing; “I don’t know what sort of a lamb that may be; but what I know well is, that he has got a superb fleece on his back.” THE STAG.Roman ladies of the highest distinction, arrived at that age when, in making an estimate of life, it is found that the largest portion belongs to the past—these ladies, we say, failed not to have the flesh of this animal served on their tables, and to eat as much of it as possible. Perchance it had but a slight attraction for the worthy matrons, and yet they preferred it to every other, for this reason, that the stag being free from If the celebrated Galen had lived in their time, he would have told those credulous Roman ladies, that this kind of food could not fail to be hurtful to them; that this indigestible and heating meat is more likely to provoke disease than to destroy its germ; and that, consequently, death finds in it an auxiliary rather than an enemy. True, the oracle of Pergama wrote nearly all this a century later, and yet his medical authority was powerless to persuade, although it may have convinced the obstinate epicureans of his period. In point of fact, whatever Galen may say, what dreadful accidents can a piece of stag properly cooked produce? Moses, so attentive to the health of his people, allows them the use of it; At Athens, at Rome, and in all Italy, whoever possessed the intelligence of appreciating good cheer, took care to offer to his friends the shoulder or fillet of stag. Quarter of Stag, roast À la NemÉenne.—Put into a saucepan pepper, alisander, carrots, wild marjoram, parsley seed, benzoin root, and fennel seed; add garum, wine, cooked wine, and a little oil. Boil over a slow fire, thicken with fine flour, pour on the roast stag, and serve. Shoulder of Stag À l’Hortensius.—Cook in a saucepan carrots, alisander, with pepper and parsley seed. Add honey, garum, vinegar, and luke-warm oil; thicken with fine flour, and pour this sauce on the shoulder of stag when roasted. Fillet of Stag À la Persane.—Roast it, and at the moment of placing it on the table, cover it with a seasoning of pepper, alisander, THE ROEBUCK.The flesh of the roebuck, according to Galen, has none of the bad qualities which he attributes to that of the stag. The Greeks thought much of the roebuck; they obtained the best from the island of Melos, Roebuck with Spikenard.—Pound, in a mortar, pepper, parsley seed, dry onion, and green rue; add spikenard, and then honey, vinegar, garum, dates, cooked wine, and oil; mix well the whole, and cover the roast with it. Roebuck aux Prunes.—Mix pepper, alisander, and parsley, after having pounded them. Add to this a good quantity of Damascus plums, which you have soaked in hot water. Then add honey, wine, vinegar, garum, and a little oil; and, lastly, leeks and savory. Serve the roebuck with this sauce. Roebuck aux Amandes de Pin.—Bruise pepper, alisander, parsley, and cummin; mix with it a great quantity of fried pine nuts; and add honey, vinegar, wine, a little oil, and garum. Pour it over the roebuck. Little need be said with regard to this charming animal, whose slender and graceful form was the admiration of those who visited the parks of Lucullus and Hirpinus. Its flesh was thought to be less wholesome than that of the roebuck, because it was found to be less Deer À la Marcellus.—Put into a saucepan pepper, gravy, rue, and onions; add honey, garum, cooked wine, and a little oil. Boil very slowly, thicken with flour, and pour the whole on the deer when roasted. THE WILD BOAR.It was in the year 63 before the Christian era: the consul Marcus Tullius Cicero had just accused and convicted Catilina, and Rome, free from present danger, had forgotten all transitory solicitudes of the past to welcome joyous banquetings. A worthy citizen, excellent patriot, distinguished gastronomist, and possessor of an immense fortune, of which he made the best use (at least so said several choice epicures, his habitual guests), Survilius Rullus—such was his name—thought of celebrating by an extraordinary banquet the triumph of the illustrious consul, and the deliverance of the country. His cook, a young Sicilian slave of the greatest promise, and whose mode of cooking a dish of sows’ paps procured him one day a smile of approbation from Lucullus, succeeded especially in those eminent performances which command the admiration of the guests, and give new strength to their exhausted appetites. Rullus sent for him, and spoke thus: “Recollect that in three days Cicero will sup here: let the feast be worthy of him who gives it.” The Sicilian even surpassed himself. As soon as the guests had tasted the enticing delicacies of the first course, the hall echoed with an unanimous concert of applause, and the proud Amphitryon, intoxicated with joy, was going to ask that a crown might be presented to his beloved slave, Man seldom prescribes to himself reasonable limits in the vast field of vanity and ostentation. At first it was thought an enviable boldness to have dared to serve an entire boar of a large size. Every one did the same thing, and at length it became quite common. It was necessary then to do better. One thought of having three at the same time; another had four; and soon the extravagant—and they were not few—caused eight wild boars À la Troyenne to appear at a single repast. It must be confessed that such magnificence rather resembles folly; but, alas! has not every nation its failings? Besides, the flesh of the wild boar enjoyed an astonishing reputation in Rome and Greece, At length, however, they began to tire of this enormous dish; they divided it into three portions, and the middle piece obtained the preference. The Greeks tried their appetites by tasting the liver, which was served at the first course. The Romans sought to deprive the wild boar of its terrible ferocity; they raised them on their farms, The wild boar was generally served surrounded by pyramids of fruits and lettuces. Wild Boar À la PompÉe.—Clean and salt a wild boar, cover it with cummin; let it remain in salt during twenty-four hours; then roast it; sprinkle with pepper, and serve with a seasoning of honey, garum, sweet and cooked wine. Quarter of Wild Boar À la ThÉbaine.—Cook it in sea water with bay leaves. When very tender take off the skin, and serve with salt, mustard, and vinegar. Fillet of Wild Boar À la MacÉdonienne.—Pound pepper, alisander, wild marjoram, skinned myrtle leaves, coriander, and onions; add honey, wine, garum, and a little oil. This seasoning must be submitted to a gentle fire; thicken with flour, and pour the whole over the wild boar as you draw it from the oven. Wild Boar’s Liver À la Grecque.—Fry it, and serve with a seasoning of pepper, cummin, parsley seed, mint, thyme, savory, and roasted pine nuts; to which add honey, wine, garum, vinegar, and a little oil. Wild Boar’s Head À la Cantabre.—Make the seasoning in the following manner: mix well, pepper, alisander, parsley seed, mint, thyme, and roasted pine nuts; add wine, vinegar, garum, and a little oil; afterwards onions and rue; thicken with whites of eggs; boil over a slow fire, and stir gently. Green Ham of Wild Boar À la Gauloise.—Insert a long and narrow blade at the joint, and carefully separate the skin from the flesh, so that the latter may be well covered with the following seasoning: pound pepper, bay leaves, rue, and benzoin; add to it some excellent gravy, cooked wine, and a little oil. Fill the ham, close the opening, and then cook it in sea water, with some tender shoots of laurel and dill. Under the Norman kings the wild boar’s head was considered a noble dish, worthy of the sovereign’s table. This, we are told, was brought to the king’s table with the trumpeters sounding their trumpets before it in procession. “For,” says Holinshed, “upon the day of coronation (of young Henry), King Henry II., his father, served him at table as sewer, bringing up the bore’s head with trumpetes afore it, according to the ancient manner.”—Strutt, “Manners and Customs,” Vol ii., p. 19. “A very small consumption is made of the old wild boar; the flesh is hard, dry, and heavy; the head only is good. The young wild boar is a fine and delicate game, also, when a year old. The ancients submitted THE HARE.Plutarch contends that the Jews abstained from eating the hare, not because they thought it unclean, but because it resembled the ass, which they revered. This mammifer, everywhere very common, swarmed in the East, if we are to believe Xenophon, who saw a great number of them when marching with his troops to join young Cyrus. Hegesander relates that, under the reign of Antigonus, an inhabitant of the island of Anaphe brought two hares into the neighbourhood. Their posterity became so numerous that the people were obliged to implore the gods to preserve the harvest, and to annihilate their formidable enemies. As the immortals turned a deaf ear to these complaints, recourse was had to Apollo alone, and the Pythonissa deigned to return this oracle: “Train hunting dogs, and they will exterminate the hares.” The Greeks esteemed highly the flesh of this quadruped, which was served roasted, but almost bleeding, The Emperor Alexander Severus eat a hare at each of his repasts. The epicures of Rome contented themselves with eating the shoulder of the hare, and left the remainder to less fastidious guests. THE RABBIT.“The conies are but feeble folks, yet make they their houses in the rocks.” They there became so numerous, and dug so well their holes beneath the houses of Tarragona, that that city was completely overthrown, and the greater part of the inhabitants buried beneath its ruins. Catullus calls Spain Cuniculosa Celtiberia (Celtiberian rabbit warren); and two medals, struck in the reign of Adrian, represent that peninsula under the form of a beautiful woman, clothed in a robe and mantle, with a rabbit at her feet. This animal was called in Hebrew, Saphan, of which the Phoenicians have made Spania, and the Latins Hispania. Strabo relates that the inhabitants of the Balearic Islands, despairing of being able to oppose the extraordinary propagation of rabbits, which nearly rendered their country uninhabitable, sent ambassadors to Rome to implore assistance against this new kind of enemy. Aristotle says nothing of the rabbit, which, probably, was then little The Romans, those bold innovators in cookery, so desirous of strange and unheard of dishes, would only consent to eat rabbits on condition of their being killed before they had left off sucking, or taken alive from the slaughtered mother, to be immediately transferred to the ardent stoves of their kitchens. THE FOX.A young fox, fattened on grapes, and roasted on the spit, is a tidbit for a king during the autumn. THE HEDGEHOG.The Greeks willingly eat the hedgehog THE SQUIRREL.This charming little animal, which ought never to please but when alive, often appeared at Rome among the most elegant dishes of the feast. THE CAMEL.Aristotle gives the greatest praise to the flesh of this useful animal, and places it without hesitation above the most delicate viands. “The flesh of the young dromedary is as good as that of veal, and the Arabs make of it their common food. They preserve it in vases, which they cover with fat. They make butter and cheese with the milk of the female.”—Desmarest. The ancients, in their wars, made use of dromedaries. The soldiers when upon these animals formed a particular militia. In the Egyptian expedition Bonaparte renewed this ancient custom, and that cavalry caused a great deal of injury to the Bedouins and Arabs. Besides the rider, each dromedary carried provisions and munitions of war. THE ELEPHANT.Certain wandering tribes of Asia and Africa were thought formerly to be very fond of grilled elephant. In our days, also, some semi-savage nations partake of the same taste. Le Vaillant, a celebrated traveller, and a most distinguished gastronomist, tells us that the first time he partook of an elephant’s trunk, which was served him by the Hottentots, he resolved that it should not be the last; for nothing appeared to him of a more exquisite flavour. “They cut off the four feet of the animal, and made in the earth a hole about three feet square. This was filled with live charcoal, and, covering the whole with very dry wood, a large fire was kept up during part of the night. When they thought that the hole was hot enough, it was emptied: a Hottentot then placed within it the four The Romans never evinced fondness for the flesh of the elephant. This animal, with its gigantic proportions and rare intelligence, was found to be so amusing to the nation of kings, when dancing on the tight rope, |