"To charm the spirits of the deep."

The old ballad in use is still found in the mouth of many a hardy seaman as he pursues his toil to the melodious words—

"The herring loves the merry moonlight, The mackerel loves the wind, But the oyster loves the dredger’s song, For he comes of a gentle kind."

Raised out of his native waters, the oyster makes the voyage to the first station in his destined travels in the company of those to whom long and kindred ties have bound him, on board the smack upon the deck of which they were jointly landed from the deep; and during the whole voyage, if it prove a long one, he is attentively supplied with refreshing water, so that when the smack lays alongside the wharf at which he is to part company with his captors, he is still as lively as when they first took him as a passenger on board.

Arrived in port, the oyster first truly becomes sensible of the miseries of slavery. Shovelled into sacks, or cast anyhow into carts and handbarrows, he may consider himself fortunate if a kindly hand but extends to him, in his great necessity, a drink of water impregnated with salt, instead of his own delicious beverage from the sea. Yet this is a cruelty which should be avoided wherever sea-water can be obtained, because it is neither the salt nor the water which sustains the oyster’s life, but the spores of vegetation which abound in the sea, and by mixing salt with fresh water we destroy even the life of the incipient fresh-water plants which the latter contains. It is as great a mockery as when Grumio proposes to give the famished Katherine the mustard without the brawn, and need no longer exist if oyster dealers, who cannot obtain sea-water, would provide themselves with the prepared salts for the instantaneous production of artificial sea-water, the recipe for the preparation of which is thus given in No. 735 of the "Family Herald:"—

"For ten gallons it requires, sulphate of magnesia, 7-1/2 ounces; sulphate of lime, 2-3/4 ounces; chloride of sodium, 43-1/4 ounces; chloride of magnesia, 6 ounces; chloride of potassium, 1-1/4 ounce; bromide of magnesium, 21 grains; carbonate of lime, 21 grains."

This should be allowed to stand exposed to the air in a strong sunlight for a fortnight before it is used, during which time a few growing plants of enteromorpha, or ulva should be introduced to throw off spores. These plants cost about one shilling each in London. The water then, when under the microscope, will be found to contain a confervoid vegetable growth, which forms as nourishing a food for the oyster as the spores of sea-weed in its ocean bed. Oysters laid down in a large trough and covered with this water will continue to live and thrive for months; and it was to some such method as this that the Romans were indebted for the preservation of their oysters in inland stews. On no account should oatmeal, flour, or any such dead stuff, be added, which only serves to make the water foul and the oyster sick.

When oysters are to travel by coach or rail, they are usually dispatched in barrels. Where the barrels are packed at the beds, as the Colchester or "Pyfleet barrelled oysters" are, they should not be disturbed till wanted for the table, as they will keep good as they are for a week or ten days; for being carefully packed so as not to spill the water each carries in a reservoir of Nature’s providing, they need no other viaticum for the journey.

The moment an oyster in the barrel opens its mouth it dies, because there is nothing in the barrel to sustain its life. It is therefore as well, on the receipt of the little cask, to open it at once by removing the top and the first hoop, and then to place the top on the upper-most layer of oysters, keeping it in position by the addition of some heavy weight, which causes the staves to spread and stand erect; and as the layers of oysters are required for the table, it is only necessary each time to replace the top and the weight to a similar position to keep the remainder fresh for a few days. But the true lover of an oyster will have some regard for his little favourite. Sea-water may be had in London and other large towns for sixpence per gallon, and when that cannot be procured the pound packet of salts, according to the recipe we have given, will not cost more than eighteen-pence at any chemist’s, and that quantity will produce three gallons of artificial sea-water. Thus provided, unpack the barrel, and spread out the oysters in a large flat earthenware dish, just covering them with water, and you may keep them for many weeks as fresh as when they first left their beds.

Footnote 4:

The Carlingford oyster is the best in Ireland; a black-bearded fellow, delicate and of fine flavour, to be eaten in Dublin alternately with the Redbank oyster, at a magnificent establishment in Sackville Street, and to be washed down with alternate draughts of brown stout. The Hibernian will tell you that even our Natives are inferior to these. He is right in his patriotism, but wrong in his assertion. How often do our prejudices trip up our judgment!

CHAPTER VII. THE OYSTER AT ITS JOURNEY’S END.

Oyster Stalls; How to Open the Oyster; an Oyster Supper; Beer, Wines, and Spirits; Roasted, Fried, Stewed, and Scolloped Oysters; Oyster Soup, and Oyster Sauce; Broiled Oysters; Oyster Pie; Oyster Toast; Oyster Patties; Oyster Powder; Pickled Oysters; Oyster Loaves; Oyster Omelet; Cabbage, Larks, and Oysters; and Frogs and Oysters.

"If where Fleet Ditch with muddy current flows You chance to roam, where oyster-tubs in rows Are ranged beside the posts, there stay thy haste, And with the savoury fish indulge thy taste."—GAY.

I am writing for the Million, and the least the Million can do in return is every one to buy a copy of my book, and bid everybody to recommend everybody to do the same. The Fleet Ditch, which was once in the centre of the old Fleet Market, has disappeared since Gay wrote the lines I have just quoted, and now forms the great sewer of Farringdon Street; but with the Ditch have not disappeared the oyster-stalls; they have only changed their locality, and, like the Wandering Jew, have turned up in the most out-of-the-way places, where nobody would expect to find them. I know what stall-oysters are; for when I was a school-boy many and oft is the time I spent my pennies, on the sly, at a stall behind the old cathedral that just abutted the ancient Market Cross. The maiden that opened them had clean white hands—for, boy as I was, I could not have endured a baronet’s hand to open oysters for me; for—

"The damsel’s knife the gaping shell commands, While the salt liquor streams between her hands."

Never have I eaten finer oysters than those, fresh almost within a few hours from the placid Solent, upon which now the palace of Osborne looks down, and calls forth the heartfelt prayer of "God bless the Queen," as we pass beneath the grass-covered slopes, reminding every Wykehamist of the founder’s motto, "Manners maketh Men;" for Her Majesty is the tenant of Wykeham’s College, and his arms and motto are carved upon the gates of the Queen’s royal residence of Osborne.

Yes, "Manners maketh Men" no less than Honores mutant Mores, as the punster told the great Sir Thomas More, when he stood so high in favour with Henry VIII., and was just appointed Treasurer of the Exchequer. It is not riches that make man, any more than they need change him; and if there is any good gift of Providence more than another which teaches equality, it will not be far from the mark to say it is the Oyster. You cannot eat the oyster in greater perfection than at a street-stall, because, as the capital of the owner is small, so, too, is the stock; and, to be sure of a rapid sale, it must also be well and carefully selected, and therefore does not need the announcement we read in many a by-way one passes along, where "the tale of a tub" would seem to contradict it: "Oysters fresh every day." The poor man has no need to bid his cook, like his wealthy neighbour, buy real sea-water, or salts for the preparation of artificial sea-water, for the preservation of his oysters. There are thousands of hands outstretched to receive his nimble penny, and to give him in return oysters as fine as any which can grace the table of the wealthiest in the land. To me it is a treat to stand by and see how rapidly oyster after oyster disappears down the capacious throat of some stalwart son of toil, and to think that my favourite health-giving mollusk, in every one that is swallowed, is adding strength and muscle to those upon whom we so greatly depend for the nation’s wealth and prosperity.

People generally, however, are somewhat indifferent about the manner of opening oysters, and the time of eating them after they are opened; yet nothing deserves more consideration at the hands of your true oyster-eater. The oyster should be eaten the moment it is opened, if eaten raw, with its own liquor in the under shell, as we have already stated on the very highest of all gastronomical authorities. It is well worth a little practice to learn to open the oyster oneself, for a bungling operator injures our little favourite, and baulks the expectant appetite by his unsightly incisions. I learnt the art years ago in one of the Midland counties, where Christmas-eve would scarce be Christmas-eve, without an oyster supper. Let me sketch the scene. In the centre of the table, covered with a clean white cloth up to the top hoop, stands the barrel of oysters, a kindly remembrance from a friend, and the more kind because oysters are not found in fresh-water streams. Each gentleman at table finds an oyster-knife and a clean coarse towel by the side of his plate, and he is expected to open oysters for himself and the lady seated by his side, unless she is wise enough to open them for herself. By the side of every plate is the panis ostrearius, the oyster-loaf made and baked purposely for the occasion, and all down the centre of the table, interspersed with vases of bright holly and evergreens, are plates filled with pats of butter, or lemons cut in half, and as many vinegar and pepper castors as the establishment can furnish. As the attendance of servants at such gatherings is usually dispensed with, bottled Bass or Guinness, or any equally unsophisticated pale ale or porter, is liberally provided; and where the means allow, light continental wines, such as Chablis, Sauterne, Mousseux, Marsault or Medoc, still Champagne, Moselle, or any light Rhenish wine, and failing any of these, Madeira or Sherry, are placed upon the table. In this list is contained the names of such wines only as are best suited to enhance the taste of the oyster, and to assist digestion. Of spirits, only good English gin, genuine Schiedam, or Irish or Scotch whisky, are admissible, as rum and brandy, taken upon oysters, will almost always be sure to make them indigestible; and liqueurs are quite out of place.

At some of these oyster suppers, oysters roasted in the shell are brought in "hot and hot," and dishes of fried, stewed, and scolloped oysters follow each other in quick succession, and even oyster patties are sometimes introduced; but I hold up both hands against an American innovation which is creeping in, and introducing crabs and lobsters, and mixed pickles, and other foreigners into the carte on such an occasion.

The mention of these various dishes of dressed oysters, reminds me of my promise at starting, to give some directions as to the proper mode of cooking them. So to begin:—