Chapter XXXII: Appendix (2)

“I then entered the service of Lord Stewart. The English embassy at Vienna was most brilliant at this time. Affairs called milord to London. It was there that Prince Orloff offered me anew the vacant places of _maître d’hôtel_ and _chef des cuisines_ to the Emperor Alexander. I left London, and came to see at Paris M. Daniel, who had just left the service of the Emperor of Russia, rich and honoured. He advised me to start for Petersburg. ‘You will not,’ he exclaimed, ‘find much serious rivalry there.’ I made up my baggage, and embarked at Honfleur. Arrived at Cronstadt, my old friend Riquette presented me immediately to the Prince Wolkonski. I was selected for the place of _maître d’hôtel_, but remarking that it was degraded by a humiliating surveillance, I determined to give it up. A few days afterwards I decided on leaving Petersburg, after having visited Moscow. I determined to return either to France or England, where I would find a good place in accordance with my habits and talents.

“I set sail, then, from Cronstadt; but the voyage was one continual tempest. We had been thirty-nine days at sea when we took shelter between Calais and Boulogne. On the morning of the thirty-ninth day, relief was afforded by large fishing smacks from Calais. After some days of repose, I returned to that Paris which I had never ceased to regret, and on my arrival, entered the service of the Princess Bragation, a lady of high rank, good, clever, and mistress of a table which, in delicacy, dignity, and culinary novelties, yielded the palm to no lordly table, whether French or English. The taste of this lady was exquisite. She had a grace, a charm of conversation which were cited as models. I always served my dinner _en maître d’hôtel_, and was uniformly complimented. The princess said to me one day, ‘Carème, did they not tell you that you were entering the service of a capricious lady?’ I signified assent. ‘You see the contrary, however, for I am delighted with your bills of fare, and accept them as you offer them.’ I thanked the princess, and added that the characteristic quality of my cookery was, above all, that delicacy and that variety which she was good enough to praise. One day somebody said that he had been invited to a dinner dressed by Carème. Her highness immediately answered, ‘There must be a mistake, for I am sure that Carème dresses no dinner out of my house.’ Madame understood my character. The guest replied, ‘Well, this cook of which I spoke is a pearl, at all events.’ ‘Say rather,’ rejoined the princess, ‘a false pearl, while mine is a real one.’ And there I was, as large as life!

“The princess was often ill. One day at dinner, and before me, the Prince de Talleyrand felicitated her on improved health. ‘Yes, I am better, and I owe that to Carème.’ The prince, with his usual intellectual grace and kindliness, approved of the princess’s remark. At that moment I was very happy.

“During my journey into Russia, Lord Stewart wrote to me at Petersburg, to engage me to go with him to Vienna, ‘as he could find no cook who reminded him of me.’ These were his very words. The Princess Bragation being some time afterwards almost perpetually confined to her bed, my place became nearly a sinecure, and I obtained from my kind patroness the permission to return to Vienna. When I arrived in the latter capital the ambassador was no longer there, but I rejoined him at Laybach.

“On my return to Vienna, I undertook the editing of the bill of fare (_la rédaction du menu_), which was not changed. I each day received in our magnificent kitchen the visit of milord; he daily bestowed on me presents and encouragements. It was his excellency who received the letter of the Prince Wolkonski, in which it was said that the emperor would accept the dedication of my projects of culinary architecture. A magnificent ring, studded with valuable diamonds, accompanied this letter. I received it with tears in my eyes. How happy had my life become!

“My ring was the subject of universal curiosity among my brethren. It was envied me by those who passed their lives in dissipation. See how delicate the emperor was. He would not reward me in an art in which I had pleased him, but he rewarded me in another art, to which I had consecrated all the leisure moments of my life. How often in that moment did I mentally thank M. Percier, that finely accomplished draughtsman, for the priceless instruction which he was good enough to give me.

“A short while after, we left Vienna, to be present at the coronation of George IV. Ten years before I had served this monarch, then I left him to go to Russia. I left him notwithstanding his generosity, notwithstanding the illustration which his regrets, so benignantly expressed, had thrown around my name. We did not arrive in time for the coronation. I regretted this at first; but, when I knew with what manner of men I should be associated, I looked on my absence as a real blessing. According to all account, nothing could be more _triste_, more paltry, more out of joint with the occasion, than these _fêtes_. My ancient colleague of Carlton House had completely failed.

“Towards the end of 1823 there was a talk of Prince Esterhazy as ambassador at Paris. The Duke de Perigord recalled me to the memory of his excellency Prince Esterhazy, who received me with kindness, and remembered with a lively pleasure the dinners of the Prince Regent. He engaged me in the event of his being nominated to the Parisian embassy, and retained me long enough that day to talk of the gastronomy, of which he spoke in a truly pertinent manner, and with much talent. The prince set out for London. I remained at Paris sixteen months in the expectation of the new place, and meanwhile refused fine offers; one of the Russian ambassador’s at Naples, the other of Lord Granville, who was leaving the Hague. I made it a point to be scrupulously faithful to the engagement which I had entered into with the prince.

“I forgot to say that, at the end of six months, Rothschild’s place was offered me. At first I refused, but, Prince Esterhazy not coming to Paris, one of my kind protectors, the Prince Louis de Rohan, presented me to Madame Rothschild. I accepted the place. The Duke de Perigord wished at this time that I should present my “Culinary Architecture,” magnificently bound by Thouvenin, to the Tuileries. The result was as I had foreseen--I only received cold compliments. The reward of the public was somewhat different. My “Projets d’Architecture,” though containing only rough sketches, were examined and approved. At the moment I write, 1833, here are nearly five years that I am with the Rothschilds. I have since refused the service of the Spanish embassy and of Prince Esterhazy, who came to Paris with the kindly thought of taking me back to England. M. Esterhazy was the intimate friend of George IV.; he dined weekly with his majesty. It was difficult for these two eminent _gourmets_, for these two personages, full of taste, to pass some hours together without talking of cookery. One day his Majesty asked the Prince where I was. ‘At Rothschild’s,’ said Esterhazy, ‘and in that house is the very best table in Paris.’ ‘I believe it,’ said George IV., ‘since Carème has the management of it.’ These words were repeated to me by a person of eminent rank who was present. George IV. was so perfect a _connoisseur_ in all that related to the table, that I had a right to feel flattered by his approval. These words of kindliness were in conformity with everything which the Regent had the goodness to say to me ten years before--to every communication he caused to be made to me in the interval. Magnificent conditions were now proposed to me on the part of George IV.; my salary was to be doubled, and that salary was to be converted into a pension for life at the end of a few years. But, in the interval between the fashionable seasons, London and the country-houses of the three kingdoms were insupportable to me. Notwithstanding the kindness and friendship of this royal prince, I experienced while in his service so profound a melancholy and _ennui_, that I was forced to return to Paris to resume the composition of my works. It is not, therefore, to be wondered that I refused with regret, though with gratitude, offers of recall to the service of George IV. In the first place, my situation at Rothschild’s suited me perfectly; and, in the second place, I was somewhat wearied with service. I felt the first attack of the malady which gnaws at my vitals. I now only think of profiting of the days which Heaven may yet spare to me to finish the books whose germs are in my mind. These books have been the meditation of my entire life. What torments, what preoccupations, what cares, do they not represent, and how I have tormented body and mind by my long vigils. At break of day I was at the fish-market, seeking the elements of my labours. Some hours after, I was in the thick of business, with cap and apron on; and I was again at work, busy as a bee, some hours before dinner. It was in the night, after a short sleep, that I lately dictated to my daughter my most recent chapters. The certainty now remains to me of leaving something useful behind me. But I shall not leave all that I had conceived touching our art, in the interest of kindly civil men and good practicians.

“I now edited my ‘Maître-d’Hôtel;’ I published a new edition of the ‘Pâtissier Royale,’ and the third of the ‘Pâtissier Pittoresque;’ the copyright I kept in my own hands.

“My works, forming already six volumes, had created for me at last (exclusive of places whose emoluments I always sacrificed to my studies!) the annual income necessary to a tranquil and comfortable existence. I made that year an income of more than 20,000 francs (800_l._). M. de Rothschild, valuing my services, raised, of his own accord, my wages. He had just about this time purchased of the Duke of Otranto the handsome estate of Ferrières. The baron was good enough to say that the resources of Ferrières would render my service more easy; he added, with kindness, ‘This beautiful château will, a dozen years hence, offer you a retreat.’ I eagerly thanked him, but said that I did not think my health would permit me to accept his offers, that I was worn out. ‘My wish,’ said I, ‘M. le Baron, is not to finish my days in a château, but in an humble lodging in Paris.’ I further mentioned that my books brought me in an income which exceeded my wants. I shall increase this income, for I have not finished my labours; I have yet to publish a book on the actual state of my profession.’ ‘But what is the amount of that income?’ kindly asked M. de Rothschild and his family. A lively surprise was the result of my answer. What I said appeared a dream. I added that this income was not of the past year only, but dated back for several years.

“It was some months after this that I was attacked with the malady which torments me, and which will close, perhaps, the future on me. I am still under the hands of the doctors, but do not mend. One of my old friends, M. Magonty, replaces me in my post.

“I will not close this chapter without saying that I obtained, while in the house of Madame Rothschild, the inestimable good-will of a man of genius, of the Maestro Rossini; he is a _connoisseur_, as is well known; he always said that he only dined well, according to his taste, at the house of Madame Rothschild. He asked me one day if my labours were not the result of very attentive meditation? I answered affirmatively, ‘All that I do is written; I slightly alter in execution.’ I remember that one day there was some talk of Rossini going to the United States; he was good enough to say, ‘I’ll start at once if Carème will but accompany me.’”

I shall conclude with a few detached passages, aphorisms, and thoughts, from the same great authority.

_Fête given at the Elysée Impérial for the Marriage of Prince
Jerome and the Princess of Wurtemburg._

“At this, a grand ball, Robert was comptroller, and the famous
Laguipierre _chef des cuisines_. Riquette[38] and I were charged
with such portion of the supper as was served cold. We thus,
as nearly as I can remember, filled the tables: twenty-four
large joints, fourteen stands bearing hams, six _galantines_,
and two wild boars’ heads, six loins of veal _à la gelée_,
seventy-six _entrées_, six of which were sides and fillets of
beef _à la gelée_, six _noix de veau_, six of dressed calves’
brains bordered with shapes of jelly, six of _pain de foie
gras_, six of _poulets à la reine en galantine_, six _d’aspics_
garnished with cocks’ combs and kidneys, six of _salmis_ of red
partridge lukewarm, six of _fricasées_ of _poulet à la reine_,
six of _mayonnaises de volaille_, six of slices of salmon _au
beurre de Montpelier_, six of salads of fillets of soles, six
of galantines of eels _au beurre de Montpelier_. Our borders
were thus composed: for the slices of salmon, _beurre rose_; for
the eels, _beurre à la ravigotte vert-tendre_; for the salads
of _filets de sole_, borders of eggs; for the _mayonnaises
de volaille_, the same; for the game and fowls, borders of
truffles, mushrooms, and morels.”

_New Invention of Carème._

“Towards 1804 I imagined our new _suédoises_. The shapes which
they had before my time were without grace or elegance. My
attempt had a decided success at a grand _extra_ of a ball,
which the marshals of France gave to the Chief-Consul, their
master. The ball was magnificent; it was given in the Salle de
l’Opéra decorated with hangings. M. Bécar, cook of the sugared
_entremets_, called me in to assist him, he confided to me the
_suédoises_. I made him thirty-six of them, and for several days
afterwards these _suédoises_ were the only topic of conversation
from the kitchens to the _salons_ of Paris. Happy times!
agreeable labours!”

_The following are the most striking among the Aphorisms,
Thoughts, and Maxims, of the Cook Carème._

“France is the mother-country of amphitryons. Its kitchen and
its wines assure the triumph of gastronomy. It is the only
country in the world for good cheer. Strangers are convinced of
these truths.

“The culinary art serves as a sort of escort to European
diplomacy.

“The great diplomatist should have a renowned cook.

“The diplomatist is a fine appreciator of a good dinner.

“For the young nobility, embassies are courses of diplomacy and
gastronomy.

“Gastronomy marches like a queen at the head of civilization,
but vegetates merely in a period of revolution.

“Great doctors and great musicians are great lovers of good
living; witness the celebrated Broussais, Roques, Rossini, and
Boïeldieu.

“The rich man, fond of the pleasures of the table, passes
through life with comfort and happiness, when he cares not a
straw for public affairs.

“Cookery is a difficult art; a generous host knows how to
appreciate its grandeur and dignity.

“In the houses of the old nobility, the _chef de cuisine_
became _maître d’hôtel_, the assistant-cook took the
place of the cook, and the scullions became assistant-cooks.
By these mutations, these ministers to the mouth (_hommes de
bouche_) attached themselves more and more to these noble
houses, and thus the masters at once preserved their health and
secured the comfort of their servants.

“In the epoch in which we live the first culinary talents
vegetate at Paris, and London is enriched with our renowned
cooks.

“A cook is a _gastronome_ both by taste and by profession.

“A cook who is clean in his person is clean also in his work.

“In ancient and modern times, the talents of cooks were honoured
by kings, witness Marc Antoninus and the great Frederick.

“The French cook is esteemed by the great in distant lands; he
is sought for and appreciated.

“The French cook is incited to his work by a point of honour
inseparable from the culinary art; witness the death of the
great Vatel.

“The French cook is happy in all the capitals of Europe, but he
who does not wish to quit his country should have courage.

“At the Russian court the cook on duty (for there are four who
take the work by turns every fortnight) always served his dinner
_en maître d’hôtel_. This thoroughly gastronomical fashion
should be generally adopted by amphitryons who love to make good
cheer.

“The hypocritical valet is fatal to the tranquillity of a great
establishment; he is vain, proud, paltry, crawling, lazy, and
gluttonous; he is a tale-bearer for the purpose of gaining his
master’s confidence, which he afterwards abuses; he is the
Tartuffe of domestic life.

“The upstart valet is self-sufficient and scented.

“The doctor speaks ill of the cook, in order that he may not
lose his influence over the mind of the rich man; but the talent
of a good cook tends more to the preservation of his master’s
health than the factitious science of certain doctors, whose
medical advice is regulated by their own interests.

“The rich man who leads an irregular life ought rather to
trust to the science of a cook to re-establish his health, if
he feels the necessity of it, than to the discourses of the
interested doctor.”

* * * * *

Such was Anthony Carème. He had gained the suffrages of emperors and kings, of princes royal and princes not royal, of noble ladies and rich banker Jews, when the climax of his felicity was capped by the friendship and good-will of Rossini, and a flattering notice of his work, in his usual sparkling style, from the facile pen of Jules Janin. This was too much for mortal man, and encumbered by the very splendour and vanity of his successes, and not a little worn out also, by thirty years of service, he sank into premature decay, and was taken from that world of _bon-vivants_ and sensualists of whom he had formed the delight, somewhere about the year of grace 1835 or 1836. “He was,” says a celebrated gourmand, “lively, ardent, enthusiastic, of a rare patience, of an imperturbable _sangfroid_,” The last work of Carème, “’Art de Cuisine Française au XIXème Siècle,” was left in an unfinished state, but M. Plumeret, first cook of the Russian embassy, has finished it by the publication of the sixteenth and seventeenth parts. In the “aître d’Hôtel Français,” the “uisinier Parisien,”and “a Cuisine de Paris au XIXème Siècle,” will Carème live.

“Carème bestowed fine names on his soups:--_Potages Condé_, _Boïeldieu_, _Broussais_, _Roques_, _Ségalas_ (the three last learned and agreeable doctors); _Lamartine_, _Dumesnil_ (the historian); _Buffon_, _Girodet_; and to be just to all the world, that great practitioner in the culinary art which the world has lost, had not forgotten, before his death, to give also to one of his best soups the name of _Victor Hugo_. He called a _matelote_ of fish after M. Delavigne, and a dish of perch after his physician, M. Gaubert.”

Here are M. Carème’s ideas on _maigre_ sauces:--“It is in a lenten kitchen that the cleverness of a cook can shed a brilliant light. It was in the Elysée Imperial, and by the example of the famous Laguipierre and Robert, that I was initiated into this fine branch of the art, and it is inexpressible. The years ’93 and ’94, in their terrible and devastating course, respected these strong heads (_ces fortes têtes_). When our valiant First Consul appeared at the head of affairs our miseries and those of gastronomy finished.

“When the empire came, one heard of soups and _entrées maigre_. The splendid _maigre_ first appeared at the table of the Princess Caroline Murat. This was the sanctuary of good cheer, and Murat was one of the first to do penitence. But what a penitence!”

One does not know whether to be indignant or to laugh at this. The old proverb, “Set a beggar on horseback and he will ride to the devil,” is undoubtedly true. A few years before the consulate the ambitious Caroline Buonaparte, afterwards wife of Murat, was, with her mother and the other female members of her family, in so destitute a situation at Marseilles, that they had not the means of buying wood to warm themselves; and as to Murat, her husband, it is well known that he rose from the very dregs of society, his father being a village innkeeper at Bastide Frontonière, in the department of Lot.

CHISWICK PRESS:--PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS,
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] An edition of Apicius, with notes and comments, has been given by Dr. Lister, physician to Queen Anne.

[2] “Cours Gastronomique,” 124.

[3] “Namque cocus domini debet habere gulam.”--MARTIAL.

[4] “Donat. in Terent. Andr.,” act. i. sc. 1.

[5] “Bourgeois Gentilhomme,” act iv. sc. 1.

[6] Amsterdam, 1726.

[7] “Almanach des Gourmands,” 6me année.

[8] Previous to 1789, says the “Almanach des Gourmands,” tom. i, p. 162, there were not one hundred _restaurateurs_ in Paris. Now (in 1803) there are five times as many. Speaking at random and without book, there are at present 4000 or 5000, great and small. The author of the “Almanach des Gourmands” falls into the strange mistake of attributing the increase of _restaurateurs_ to an Anglomania. “It is well known,” says he, “that the English almost always dine at a tavern.” What inconceivable ignorance!

[9] “Memoires Anecdotiques sur l’intérieur du Palais, et sur quelques Evenemens de l’Empire, depuis 1805 jusqu’au 1 Mai 1814, pour servir à l’Histoire de Napoleon,” par L. F. J. De Bausset, ancien Préfet du Palais Impérial.

[10] This was first printed at Milan, in 1498.

[11] At the beginning of this century, Weeks’ Bush Inn, at Bristol, was famous for its Christmas fare. The bill of fare for Christmas 1800 was as follows:--A turtle of 120 lbs., 72 pots of turtle, a bustard, red game, black game, fish of almost innumerable kinds, venison, 42 hares, 87 wild ducks, 17 pheasants, 41 partridges, 17 wild geese, 149 snipes, 81 woodcocks, 17 wild turkeys, 44 tame turkeys, 10 capons, 52 barrels of Purfleet oysters.

[12] Juvenal relates the story somewhat differently:--

“Sed deerat pisci patinæ mensura: vocantur
Ergo in concilium proceres,” &c.--SAT. II.

[13] Galen, Lib. III.--De Aliment. See also Lib. VIII.--Methodi Medendi.

[14] See also, Nonius de Re Cibar.--Lib. VIII.

[15] Dictionnaire des termes du vieux François, ou tresor de recherches et antiquités Gauloises et Françoises, par M. Borel, Conseiller et Médecin ordinaire du Roi. Paris: chez Briasson, Rue St. Jacques. MDCCL.

[16] Lib. XII. cap. 5.

[17] “Ludovici Nonni Dieteticon,” Antverpiæ, MDCXVI. Lib. II. p. 242.

[18] See 4 Inst., cap. lxvi. The office of swanherd is in Rot. Patentium, anno 11 and 4, called “Magister deductus Cygnorum.” See “Le case de Swannes,” lib. 7.

[19] “Observations on the Ancient Statutes.” Dublin: Grierson, 1767.

[20] Nonni “De Re Cib.” Lib. II.

[21] Nonni, “De Re Cibariâ,” lib. ii., p. 215.

[22] “Velocius quam asparagi coquuntur.” SUET.

[23] Cotignac was a confection of quinces.

[24] “Traité des Alimens,” par Lémery.

[25] See “Traité des Alimens de Lémery.” Par le Docteur Bruhier.

[26] “Traité des Alimens,” p. 360.

[27] Eutropius.

[28] Hist. des Empereurs, tom. ii.

[29] Julian in Misopogon, p. 359.

[30] I believe a third edition has been published in 1860.

[31] It would, however, appear that the Romans employed corks:--

“Corticem astrictum pice dimovebit
Amphoræ,”

says Horace.

[32] Henderson says that in some places where wood abounded, as in the neighbourhood of the Alps and in Illyria, wine casks were made of that material; but the vessels in general use among the Greeks and Romans were of earthenware. No authority is, however, cited by the Doctor for this statement.

[33] Lib. xxvii., c. 6.

[34] These customs are now (1864) exploded in London society, and only exist on circuit, at regimental messes, or at public dinners.

[35] “Un _poinçon_ de vin, d’huile, &c. _Dolium vel doliolum._ Le _poinçon_ est la moitié d’un tonneau d’Orléans, ou d’Anjou. C’est un nom qu’on donne en Blasois et en Touraine au muid de vin. A Rouen le _poinçon_ contient treize boisseaux. C’est à Paris la même chose qu’une _demi-queue_. On dit, Voici vendanges, il faut acheter des _poinçons_, faire relier nos _poinçons_, en parlant de toutes sortes de futailles et de vaisseaux.”--_Dictionnaire de Trevoux._

[36] This grape is named the Ciras. In the “Œnologie Française” for 1826, it is spelt Scyras, and it is stated, according to the tradition of the neighbourhood, the plant was originally brought from Shiraz, in Persia, by one of the hermits of the mountain.

[37] History of London, vol. I., p. 250.

[38] Riquette was then a young Parisian cook, who has since made a considerable fortune in the service of the Emperor Alexander. He spoke and wrote so remarkably, that his competitors called him the _beau parleur_.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been corrected silently.

2. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the original.

3. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have been retained as in the original.

4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.