To three gallons of brandy put four ounces of aniseeds bruised; the next day distil it in a cold still pasted up; then scrape four ounces of licorice, and pound it in a mortar, dry it in an iron pan, do not burn it, put it in the bottle to your distill’d water, and let it stand ten days. Then take out the licorice, and to every six quarts of the spirits {34} put in cloves, mace, nutmeg, cinnamon and ginger, of each a quarter of an ounce, dates stoned and sliced four ounces; raisins stoned half a pound. Let these infuse ten days, then strain it out, and tincture it with saffron, and bottle it and cork it well. It seems just the sort for Jubilee rejoicings and vestry meetings; but do not give it to the constable on fixed point duty. In my pitiable ignorance, I once thought that Clary was the old English name for Claret. Not a bit of it. This is how the artistic used to make _Clary Wine_. Take twenty-four pounds of Malaga raisins, pick and chop them very small, put them in a tub, and to each pound a quart of water; let them steep ten or eleven days—this sounds like a school treat—stirring it twice every day; you must keep it covered close all the while; then strain it off, and put it into a vessel, and about half a peck of the tops of clary (what was clary?) when ’tis in blossom; stop it close for six weeks, and then bottle it off; in two or three months ’tis fit to drink. Clary naturally leads to _Apricock Wine_, which we of the nineteenth century miscall apricot. The derivation of the word is Latin. Then the Arabs got hold of it, and it became Al-precoc. Then the thriving Spaniards got hold of the word, which became Alborcoque; and so to England. But to the wine. {35} Take three pounds of sugar, and three quarts of water, let them boil together, and scum it well; then put in six pounds of apricocks, pared and stoned, and let them boil till they are tender; then take them up, and when the liquor is cold bottle it up. You may, if you please, after you have taken out the apricocks, let the liquor have one boil with a sprig of flower’d clary in it. Also, you may if you please—and you probably _will_ please—add a little old brandy to the decoction. {36} CHAPTER IV SOME OLD RECIPES Indifference of the Chineses — A nasty potion — A nastier — White Bastard — Helping it to be eager — Improving Malmsey — Death of the Duke of Clarence — Mum is _not_ the word — English champagne — Life without Ebulum a blank — Cock ale — How to dispose of surplus poultry — Painful fate of a pauper — _Potage pauvre_ — Duties of the old English housewife — Election of wines, not golf — Muskadine — Lemon wine — Familiar recipe — King William’s posset — Pope’s ditto. “The Chineses,” says a very old work on liquid nourishment, “make excellent Drink of Rice, which is very pleasant of taste, and is preferred by them before wine.”