The Little Tea Book | Page 3

drink. Dr. Johnson puts it at even a later date, for he claims that tea was first introduced into England by Lords Arlington and Ossory, in 1666, and really made its debut into society when the wives of these noblemen gave it its vogue.
If Dr. Johnson's statement is intended to mean that nothing is anything until the red seal of the select says, "Thus shall it be," he is right in the year he has selected. If, on the other hand, the Doctor had in mind society at large, he is "mixed in his dates," or leaves, for tea was drawn and drunk in London nine years before that date.
Garway, the founder of Garraway's coffee house, claimed the honor of being first to offer tea in leaf and drink for public sale, in 1657. It is pretty safe to fix the entrance of tea into Europe even a few years ahead of his announcement, for merchants in those days did not advertise their wares in advance.
However, this date is about the beginning of TEA TIME, for in the Mercurius Politicius of September, 1658, appeared the following advertisement:
That excellent and by all Physitians approved China drink, called by the Chineans, Tcha, by other nations, Tay, or Tea, is sold at the Sultana's Head, a Copphee House, in Sweetings Rents, by the Royal Exchange, London.
Like all new things, when they have fastened on to the public's favor, tea was on everybody's lips and in everybody's mouth. It was lauded to the skies, and was supposed to be good for all the ills of the flesh. It would cure colds and consumption, clear the sight, remove lassitude, purify the liver, improve digestion, create appetite, strengthen the memory, and cure fever and ague.
One panegyrist says, while never putting the patient in mind of his disease, it cheers the heart, without disordering the head; strengthens the feet of the old, and settles the heads of the young; cools the brain of the hard drinker, and warms that of the sober student; relieves the sick, and makes the healthy better. Epicures drink it for want of an appetite; bon vivants, to remove the effects of a surfeit of wine; gluttons, as a remedy for indigestion; politicians, for the vertigo; doctors, for drowsiness; prudes, for the vapors; wits, for the spleen; and beaux to improve their complexions; summing up, by declaring tea to be a treat for the frugal, a regale for the luxurious, a successful agent for the man of business, and a bracer for the idle.
Poets and verse-makers joined the chorus in praise of tea, in Greek and Latin. One poet pictures Hebe pouring the delightful cup for the goddesses, who, finding it made their beauty brighter and their wit more brilliant, drank so deeply as to disgust Jupiter, who had forgotten that he, himself,
"Drank tea that happy morn, When wise Minerva of his brain was born."
Laureant Tate, who wrote a poem on tea in two cantos, described a family jar among the fair deities, because each desired to become the special patroness of the ethereal drink destined to triumph over wine. Another versifier exalts it at the expense of its would-be rival, coffee:
"In vain would coffee boast an equal good, The crystal stream transcends the flowing mud, Tea, even the ills from coffee spring repairs, Disclaims its vices and its virtues shares."
Another despairing enthusiast exclaims:
"Hail, goddess of the vegetable, hail! To sing thy worth, all words, all numbers, fail!"
The new beverage did not have the field all to itself, however, for, while it was generally admitted that
Tea was fixed, and come to stay. It could not drive good meat and drink away.
Lovers of the old and conservative customs of the table were not anxious to try the novelty. Others shied at it; some flirted with it, in tiny teaspoonfuls; others openly defied and attacked it. Among the latter were a number of robust versifiers and physicians.
"'Twas better for each British virgin, When on roast beef, strong beer and sturgeon, Joyous to breakfast they sat round, Nor were ashamed to eat a pound."
The fleshly school of doctors were only too happy to disagree with their brethren respecting the merits and demerits of the new-fangled drink; and it is hard to say which were most bitter, the friends or the foes of tea.
Maria Theresa's physician, Count Belchigen, attributed the discovery of a number of new diseases to the debility born of daily tea-drinking. Dr. Paulli denied that it had either taste or fragrance, owing its reputation entirely to the peculiar vessels and water used by the Chinese, so that it was folly to partake of it, unless tea-drinkers could supply themselves with pure water from the Vassie and the fragrant tea-pots of Gnihing. This sagacious sophist and dogmatizer also discovered that, among other evils, tea-drinking deprived