XIX. HUNTING.

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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;[XIX_1] they inform us that Ishmael, in the solitude of Arabia, became skilful in drawing the bow;[XIX_2] and that David, when yet young, dared to fight with lions and bears.[XIX_3]

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.[XIX_4]

Diana descended to the earth, and pursued in the forests the timid stag.[XIX_5] The Greeks raised altars to her, and the centaur Chiron learned of her the noble art of venery, which he, in his turn, taught to illustrious disciples, among whom are mentioned Æsculapius, Nestor, Theseus, Ulysses, and Achilles.[XIX_6]

Pollux trained the first hunting dogs, and Castor accustomed horses to follow the track of wild beasts.[XIX_7] From that time, heroes, when resting from real conquests, sought diversion in games nearly as formidable, and imitative of their combats, which often placed their lives in danger. Ulysses, for example, always bore the scar of a wound inflicted by a wild boar.[XIX_8]

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.[XIX_9] Plato finds in it something divine,[XIX_10] Horace looks upon it as healthful exercise, strengthening to the body, and preparing the way for glory;[XIX_11] and indeed, this heroic and royal exercise[XIX_12] always possessed irresistible attraction for the greatest men of antiquity.

The warriors of Homer,[XIX_13] Pelopidas,[XIX_14] Alexander of Macedon,[XIX_15] Philopoemen,[XIX_16] seemed to derive from it fresh warlike ardour.

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,[XIX_17] they excited their indefatigable hounds, and promised to consecrate to Diana the stag’s horns, or the tusks of the boar,[XIX_18] which might become their prey.

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.[XIX_19] These animals had names, short, sonorous, and easy to be pronounced, such as Lance, Flower, Blade, Strength, Ardent, &c.[XIX_20]

The strongest and most courageous came from England and Scotland;[XIX_21] Crete, Tuscany, and Umbria were the nurseries of the most expert.[XIX_22] The Gallic dogs surpassed all others by their agility and astonishing swiftness.[XIX_23]

Females were generally preferred to the males,[XIX_24] either because they were more docile, or pursued the game with more ardour and persistence. It may be as well to remark, too, in this place, that the Greeks thought much more of mares than of horses for chariot racing.[XIX_25]

The dogs were always chained. Their liberty was only given them at the moment of starting for the chase.[XIX_26] Their fire and ferocity were then incredible. They dashed off with fury, and when they succeeded in coming up with their prey, some would suffer their legs to be cut off rather than loose their hold. The Indian dogs, trained for lion hunting, often gave this proof of obstinate and implacable rage.[XIX_27]

The ancients also took game by means of pits covered over with brushwood, in snares,[XIX_28] with traps,[XIX_29] and with nets;[XIX_30] moreover, they often made use of bows and arrows, and understood the art of training falcons and hawks.[XIX_31]

Eastern princes amused themselves by hunting in parks where a great number of wild beasts were kept.[XIX_32] The Romans had too much taste and money, and too great a desire to spend it, not to imitate this expensive and royal luxury. Fulvius Hirpinus possessed a park of forty acres near Viterbo, in Tuscany. Lucius Lucullus, and Quintus Hortensius hastened to create more beautiful ones, and they did not fail to have a host of imitators.[XIX_33]

By the Roman law, hunting was unrestricted:[XIX_34] only, no person could pursue game on another’s land without the owner’s permission.[XIX_35]

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).[XIX_36] Solomon had stags, roebucks, and wild oxen served on his table every day.[XIX_37]

Cyrus, King of Persia, ordered that venison should never be wanting at his repasts.[XIX_38] Is it necessary to add that it was the delight of two nations the most gastronomic in the world?—of the effeminate Greeks, and more especially those Romans for whom the animals of the earth, ocean, and air were only to be valued in proportion to the impossibility of obtaining them in Europe, Asia, and Africa; an immense inheritance, conquered by noble ancestors, and which their degenerated sons ransacked for their satisfaction and insatiable gluttony.[XIX_39]

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.[XIX_40]

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.[XIX_41] Edgar, the successor of Athelstan, changed the tribute of money into an annual tribute of three hundred wolves’ skins.[XIX_42]

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.[XIX_43]

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.[XIX_44] Indeed, at that epoch, every person of distinction took the prince as his model, and gave himself up, heart and soul, to what people are pleased to call “the noble exercise of hunting.”

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.”[XIX_45]

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.”[XIX_46]


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 maladies and infirmities—at least so it was thought—prolongs its existence far beyond the bounds which nature has assigned to other beings.[XIX_47] The noble patrician ladies would not have been sorry to survive their great-grandchildren, and they took the means which appeared to them most likely to ensure longevity.[XIX_48]

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.[XIX_49]

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;[XIX_50] Solomon, the wisest of men, ate it every day.[XIX_51] Do we find that the Jewish monarch and his people were any the worse for preferring this food?

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.[XIX_52] Nevertheless, gastronomists by profession, who so generously devoted their fortunes to the service of the culinary art, abandoned the whole animal to their slaves, and only reserved for themselves the most tender shoots of the horns. These were for a long time boiled, then cut into very small pieces, and this strange dish, seasoned with a mixture of pepper, cummin, savory, rue, parsley, bay leaves, fat, and pine nuts, sprinkled with vinegar, and fried, passed for an exquisite and dainty treat, worthy of the most flattering praises.[XIX_53]

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.[XIX_54]

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.[XIX_55]

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, scallions, wild marjoram, onions, and pine nuts, previously mixed with honey, garum, mustard, vinegar, and oil.[XIX_56]


THE ROEBUCK.

The flesh of the roebuck, according to Galen, has none of the bad qualities which he attributes to that of the stag.[XIX_57] Esculapius and Comus for this once agreed—which very seldom happened—in praising the beneficial properties and the delicious odour of these timid quadrupeds.

The Greeks thought much of the roebuck; they obtained the best from the island of Melos,[XIX_58] and served them at their most sumptuous repasts.[XIX_59] They were, perhaps, more rarely seen on Roman tables.

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.[XIX_60]

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.[XIX_61]

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.[XIX_62]


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 succulent.[XIX_63] Apicius has consecrated to it four culinary recipes, all very similar.

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.[XIX_64]


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,[XIX_65] when the cook appeared, followed by four Ethiopians, who gracefully carried a silver vase of prodigious dimensions, in the shape of a large mortar. This extraordinary dish contained a wild boar; baskets of dates were suspended to his tusks, and charming little wild boars, in exquisite pastry, no doubt—for never was there a more tempting culinary exhalation—artistically surrounded the enormous animal.[XIX_66] Every voice was hushed; the guests waited in silence the most profound.[XIX_67] The tables of the second service were placed round the guests, who raised themselves on the couches with greedy curiosity. The blacks deposited the precious burden before another domestic, a skilful carver, who opened the wild boar with incredible dexterity and precision, and presented to the astonished eyes of Rullus and his friends a second entire animal, and in this a third; then came fresh delicacies, all gradually diminishing in size, until, at length, a delicious little figpecker terminated this series of strange viands, of which Rome, wondering and astonished, long preserved the gastronomic remembrance.[XIX_68]

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.[XIX_69] The Macedonian, Caranus, a man of spirit and of merit, placed himself at once on an eminence which baffled rivalry. He invited twenty guests to his wedding, and he had twenty wild boars served.[XIX_70]

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,[XIX_71] and no one could, with credit to himself, receive his friends at his table without presenting them with the fashionable dish,—the animal appointed by nature to appear at banquets.[XIX_72]

At length, however, they began to tire of this enormous dish; they divided it into three portions, and the middle piece obtained the preference.[XIX_73] Ultimately they served only the fillet and head; the latter of which was more particularly esteemed by the Romans.[XIX_74]

The Greeks tried their appetites by tasting the liver, which was served at the first course.[XIX_75]

The Romans sought to deprive the wild boar of its terrible ferocity; they raised them on their farms,[XIX_76] and sometimes they acquired enormous proportions. These immense beasts weighed no less than a thousand pounds.[XIX_77] But delicate connoisseurs had always the wisdom to prefer the dangerous inhabitant of the forest to these bloated victims of enervating domesticity,[XIX_78] whose insipid and degenerate flavour hardly betrayed their origin.

The wild boar was generally served surrounded by pyramids of fruits and lettuces.[XIX_79]

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.[XIX_80]

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.[XIX_81]

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.[XIX_82]

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.[XIX_83]

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.[XIX_84]

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.[XIX_85]

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 those they could take away from their mother to castration, and left them afterwards to run about the woods, where these animals became larger than the others, and acquired a savour and flavour which made them preferable to the pigs we rear.”—Sonnini.


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.[XIX_86] This is only a pleasantry on the part of the celebrated writer, with no other foundation than the fabulous tale of the grammarian Apion, who asserts in his book against the Jews that they preserved in Jerusalem an ass’s head, which they adored.[XIX_87] We know that a sanitary motive was the cause of this animal being interdicted to the Israelites;[XIX_88] and it has been also remarked that the ancient Britons abstained from it.[XIX_89]

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.[XIX_90] Greece was abundantly stocked with them:[XIX_91] the inhabitants of islands of the Ægean sea had more than once to deplore the ravages which hunger caused these timid animals to commit, and whose fecundity they cursed.

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.”[XIX_92] The advice was good, and deemed worthy of being adopted.

The Greeks esteemed highly the flesh of this quadruped, which was served roasted, but almost bleeding,[XIX_93] or made into delicious pies,[XIX_94] much in vogue in the time of Aristophanes.[XIX_95] Hippocrates had, however, forbidden the use of it. “The hare,” said he, “thickens the blood, and causes cruel wakefulness;”[XIX_96] but epicurism will always think lightly of Hygeian precepts which do not accord with its own ideas. At all events, Galen was not of the same opinion as his colleague,[XIX_97] and Galen must be right.

The Emperor Alexander Severus eat a hare at each of his repasts.[XIX_98] Perhaps that prince shared the opinion of the Romans, who thought that a person who fed on hare for seven consectutive days became fresher, fatter, and more beautiful. A lady, named Gellia, had a large share of that unfortunate gift of nature which we call ugliness. She resolved to make a trial of this regimen, and submitted to it with a regularity really exemplary. She showed herself at the end of the week, and we are informed that no one thought her any the prettier for it.[XIX_99]

The epicures of Rome contented themselves with eating the shoulder of the hare, and left the remainder to less fastidious guests.[XIX_100]


THE RABBIT.

“The conies are but feeble folks, yet make they their houses in the rocks.”[XIX_101] They taught mankind, it is said, the art of fortification, mining, and covered roads.[XIX_102] These skilful engineers come originally from warm climates; from Africa, perhaps, whence they were brought to Spain.

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.[XIX_103]

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.[XIX_104]

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.[XIX_105] Augustus furnished them with troops, and the Roman arms were once more victorious.[XIX_106]

Aristotle says nothing of the rabbit, which, probably, was then little known in Greece. It afterwards became common enough, and that of Macedonia, in particular, found favour at tables renowned for delicacies.[XIX_107]

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.[XIX_108] It was certainly reserved for that people to frighten the world by all kinds of culinary anomalies.


THE FOX.

A young fox, fattened on grapes, and roasted on the spit, is a tidbit for a king during the autumn.[XIX_109] Such was the idea of the Roman peasants; but we must be allowed, however, to differ from their opinion.


THE HEDGEHOG.

The Greeks willingly eat the hedgehog[XIX_110] in a ragoÛt—a dish the Romans never envied them.


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.[XIX_111] At first it was only eaten by caprice: unfortunately for the little animal, it was found to be very nice.


THE CAMEL.

Aristotle gives the greatest praise to the flesh of this useful animal, and places it without hesitation above the most delicate viands.[XIX_112] The Greeks, his countrymen, thought it worthy of being roasted for the table of sovereigns,[XIX_113] and the inhabitants of Persia and Egypt partook of the same enthusiasm. Rome thought the camel fit for the solitude of the Desert, but not for the ornament of banquets; and really, for this once, Rome appears to have been right.

“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.[XIX_114] The Egyptians went so far in their pursuit of this delicacy, that the King Ptolemy Philadelphus was forced to forbid them, under pain of the most severe laws, to kill one of these animals, whose number diminished every day. The law was disregarded, and the elephant only possessed greater attractions for them.[XIX_115]

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.[XIX_116] But he reserves his greatest praises for the foot of the colossal quadruped. We will let him speak for himself:—

“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 feet of the animal, covered them with hot ashes, and then with charcoal and small wood; and this fire was left burning until the morning. * * * My servants presented me at breakfast with an elephant’s foot. It had considerably swelled in the cooking; I could hardly recognise the shape, but it appeared so good, exhaled so inviting an odour, that I hastened to taste it. It was a dish for a king. Although I had often heard the bear’s foot praised, I could, not conceive how so heavy, so material an animal as the elephant, could furnish a dish so fine and delicate. * * * And I devoured, without bread, my elephant’s foot, while my Hottentots, seated around me, regaled themselves with other parts, which they found equally delicious.”[XIX_117]

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,[XIX_118] or in the terrible combats of the Circus,[XIX_119] that they hardly thought of roasting it, or making it into fricassees. We cannot, however, affirm that the gastronomic eccentricity of some Roman epicure did not dream of a monstrous feast, in which he may have offered to his guests an elephant À la Troyenne on a silver dish, made purposely for the occasion.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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