FAMILIAR LETTERS OF JAMES HOWELL

James Howell leaning against a tree

It is without controversy that in the nonage of the world, men and beasts has but one buttery, which was the fountain and rive, nor do we read of any vines or wines till two hundred years after the flood; but now I do not know or hear of any nation that hath water only for their drink, except the Japanese, and they drink it hot too; but we may say that whatever beverage soever we make, either by brewing, by distillation, decoction, percolation, or pressing, it is but water at first; nay, wine itself is but water sublimed, being nothing else but that moisture and sap which is caused either by rain or other kind of irrigations about the roots of the vine, and drawn up to the branches and berries by the virtual attractive heat of the sun, the bowels of the earth serving as an alembic to that end, which made the Italian vineyard-man (after a long drought, and an extreme hot summer which had parched up all his grapes) to complain, `For want of water I am forced to drink water; if I had water I would drink wine'. It may also be applied to the miller when he has no water to drive his mills.

The vine doth so abhor cold, that it cannot grow beyond the 49th degree to any purpose; therefore God and nature hath furnished the north-west nations with inventions of beverage. In this island the old drink was ale, noble ale, than which, as I heard a great foreign doctor affirm, there is no liquor that more increaseth the radical moisture, and preserves the natural heat, which are the two pillars that support the life of man. But since beer hath hopped in amongst us, ale is thought to be much adulterated, and nothing so good as Sir John Oldcastle and Smugg the smith was used to drink. Besides ale and beer, the natural drink of part of this isle may be said to be metheglin, braggot, and mead, which differ in strength according to the three degrees of comparison. The first of the three which is strong in the superlative if taken immoderately, doth stupefy more than any other liquor, and keeps a humming in the brain, which made only one say, that he loved not metheglin because he was used to speak too much of the house he came from, meaning the hive. Cider and perry are also the natural drinks of parts of this isle. But I have read in some old authors of a famous drink the ancient nation of the Picts, who lived betwixt Trent and Tweed and were utterly extinguished by the overpowering of the Scot, were used to make of decoction of flowers, the receipt whereof they kept as a secret and a thing sacred to themselves, for it perished with them. These are all the common drinks of this isle and of Ireland also, where they are more given to milk and strong waters of all colours. The prime is usquebagh, which cannot be made anywhere in that perfections, and whereas we drink it here in aqua-vitae measures, it goes down there by beer-glassfuls, being more natural to the nation.

So rambles James Howell the 17th century historian in a letter "To the Right Honourable the Lord Cliff" in 1634. The thesis of which appears to be that each region of the world has a natural alcoholic drink of its own (except for Japan). I think it's a good thesis. The letter goes on and on, and we may yet come back to it.