Although the Still-room was serviceable for medicinal purposes, yet, as we have seen, there were many comforting drinks made, including _Vsquebath, or Irish aqua vitæ_ (a recipe for which we will give in its proper place), and doubtless this contributed much towards the tippling habit of some ladies in the 17th and 18th centuries. We hear somewhat of this in the reign of good Queen Anne (who, by the bye, was irreverently termed “Brandy-faced Nan”), when they used to make, and drink, _Ratifia of Apricocks_, _Fenouillette of Rhé_, _Millefleurs_, _Orangiat_, _Burgamot_, _Pesicot_, and _Citron Water_, etc., etc., numerous allusions to which are made in the pages of “The Spectator,” and other literature of the times. Edward Ward, who had no objection to call a spade, a spade, thus plainly speaks out.[60] “It would make a Man smile to behold her Figure in a front Box, where her twinkling Eyes, by her Afternoon’s Drams of Ratifee and cold Tea, sparkle more than her Pendants.... Her closet is always as well stor’d with Juleps, Restoratives, and Strong Waters, as an Apothecary’s Shop, or a Distiller’s Laboratory; and is, herself, so notable a Housewife in the Art of preparing them, that she has a larger Collection of Chemical Receipts than a Dutch Mountebank.... As soon as she rises, she must have a Salutary Dram to keep her Stomach from the Cholick; a Whet before she eats, to procure Appetite; after eating, a plentiful Dose for Concoction; and to be sure a Bottle of Brandy under her Bed side for fear of fainting in the Night.” There is no necessity to multiply instances of the feminine liking for brandy, for everyone finds numerous examples in his reading, from Juliet’s nurse,[61] who, after Tybalt’s death, says, “Give me some _aqua vitæ_,” to old Lady Clermont, of whom Grantley Berkeley tells the following story[62]:— “Prominent among my earliest Brighton reminiscences are those of old Lady Clermont, who was a frequent guest at the Pavilion. Her physician had recommended a moderate use of stimulants, to supply that energy which was deficient in her system, and brandy had been suggested in a prescribed quantity, to be mixed with her tea. I remember well having my curiosity excited by this, to me, novel form of taking medicine, and holding on by the back of a chair to watch the _modus operandi_. Very much to my astonishment, the patient held a liqueur bottle over a cup of tea, and began to pour out its contents, with a peculiar purblind look, upon the _back_ of a teaspoon. Presently, she seemed suddenly to become aware of what she was about, turned up the spoon the right way, and carefully measured, and added the quantity to which she had been restricted. The Tea, so strongly ‘laced,’ she now drank with great apparent gusto.”