All About Coffee

Prior and Montague inserted the following poetic vignette in their City Mouse and Country Mouse, written in burlesque of Dryden's Hind and Panther:

Then on they jogg'd; and since an hour of talk Might cut a banter on the tedious walk, As I remember, said the sober mouse, I've heard much talk of the Wits' Coffee-house; Thither, says Brindle, thou shalt go and see Priests supping coffee, sparks and poets tea; Here rugged frieze, there quality well drest, These baffling the grand Senior, those the Test, And there shrewd guesses made, and reasons given, That human laws were never made in heaven; But, above all, what shall oblige thy sight, And fill thy eyeballs with a vast delight, Is the poetic judge of sacred wit, Who does i' th' darkness of his glory sit; And as the moon who first receives the light, With which she makes these nether regions bright, So does he shine, reflecting from afar The rays he borrowed from a better star; For rules, which from Corneille and Rapin flow, Admired by all the scribbling herd below, From French tradition while he does dispense Unerring truths, 't is schism, a damned offense, To question his, or trust your private sense.

Geoffrey Sephton, an English poet and novelist, many years resident in Vienna, whose fantastic stories and fairy tales are well known in Europe, has written the following sonnets on coffee:

TO THE MIGHTY MONARCH, KING KAUHEE[350]

By Geoffrey Sephton

I

Away with opiates! Tantalising snares To dull the brain with phantoms that are not. Let no such drugs the subtle senses rot With visions stealing softly unawares Into the chambers of the soul. Nightmares Ride in their wake, the spirits to besot. Seek surer means, to banish haunting cares: Place on the board the steaming Coffee-pot! O'er luscious fruit, dessert and sparkling flask, Let proudly rule as King the Great Kauhee, For he gives joy divine to all that ask, Together with his spouse, sweet Eau de VieOh, let us 'neath his sovran pleasure bask. Come, raise the fragrant cup and bend the knee!

II

O great Kauhee, thou democratic Lord, Born 'neath the tropic sun and bronzed to splendour In lands of Wealth and Wisdom, who can render Such service to the wandering Human Horde As thou at every proud or humble board? Beside the honest workman's homely fender, 'Mid dainty dames and damsels sweetly tender, In china, gold and silver, have we poured Thy praise and sweetness, Oriental King. Oh, how we love to hear the kettle sing In joy at thy approach, embodying The bitter, sweet and creamy sides of life; Friend of the People, Enemy of Strife, Sons of the Earth have born thee labouring.

In America, too, poets have sung in praise of coffee. The somewhat doubtful "kind that mother used to make" is celebrated in James Whitcomb Riley's classic poem:

LIKE HIS MOTHER USED TO MAKE[351]

"Uncle Jake's Place," St. Jo., Mo., 1874.

"I was born in Indiany," says a stranger, lank and slim, As us fellers in the restaurant was kindo' guyin' him, And Uncle Jake was slidin' him another punkin pie And a' extry cup o' coffee, with a twinkle in his eye-- "I was born in Indiany--more'n forty years ago-- And I hain't ben back in twenty--and I'm work-in' back'ards slow; But I've et in ever' restarunt twixt here and Santy Fee, And I want to state this coffee tastes like gittin' home, to me!" "Pour us out another. Daddy," says the feller, warmin' up, A-speakin' crost a saucerful, as Uncle tuk his cup-- "When I see yer sign out yander," he went on, to Uncle Jake-- "'Come in and git some coffee like yer mother used to make'-- I thought of my old mother, and the Posey county farm, And me a little kid again, a-hangin' in her arm, As she set the pot a-bilin', broke the eggs and poured 'em in"-- And the feller kindo' halted, with a trimble in his chin; And Uncle Jake he fetched the feller's coffee back, and stood As solemn, fer a minute, as a' undertaker would; Then he sorto' turned and tiptoed to'rds the kitchen door--and next, Here comes his old wife out with him, a-rubbin' of her specs-- And she rushes fer the stranger, and she hollers out, "It's him!-- Thank God we've met him comin'!--Don't you know yer mother, Jim?" And the feller, as he grabbed her, says,--"You bet I hain't forgot-- But," wipin' of his eyes, says he, "yer coffee's mighty hot!"

One of the most delightful coffee poems in English is Francis Saltus' (d. 1889) sonnet on "the voluptuous berry", as found in Flasks and Flagons:

COFFEE

Voluptuous berry! Where may mortals find Nectars divine that can with thee compare, When, having dined, we sip thy essence rare, And feel towards wit and repartee inclined?

Thou wert of sneering, cynical Voltaire, The only friend; thy power urged Balzac's mind To glorious effort; surely Heaven designed Thy devotees superior joys to share.

Whene'er I breathe thy fumes, 'mid Summer stars, The Orient's splendent pomps my vision greet. Damascus, with its myriad minarets, gleams! I see thee, smoking, in immense bazaars, Or yet, in dim seraglios, at the feet Of blond Sultanas, pale with amorous dreams!

Arthur Gray, in Over the Black Coffee (1902) has made the following contribution to the poetry of coffee, with an unfortunate reflection on tea, which might well have been omitted:

COFFEE

O, boiling, bubbling, berry, bean! Thou consort of the kitchen queen-- Browned and ground of every feature, The only aromatic creature, For which we long, for which we feel, The breath of morn, the perfumed meal.

For what is tea? It can but mean, Merely the mildest go-between. Insipid sobriety of thought and mind It "cuts no figure"--we can find-- Save peaceful essays, gentle walks, Purring cats, old ladies' talks--

* * * * *

But coffee! can other tales unfold. Its history's written round and bold-- Brave buccaneers upon the "Spanish Main", The army's march across the lenght'ning plain, The lone prospector wandering o'er the hill, The hunter's camp, thy fragrance all distill.

So here's a health to coffee! Coffee hot! A morning toast! Bring on another pot.

The Tea and Coffee Trade Journal published in 1909 the following excellent stanzas by William A. Price:

AN ODE TO COFFEE

Oh, thou most fragrant, aromatic joy, impugned, abused, and often stormed against, And yet containing all the blissfulness that in a tiny cup could be condensed! Give thy contemners calm, imperial scorn-- For thou wilt reign through ages yet unborn!

Some ancient Arab, so the legend tells, first found thee--may his memory be blest! The world-wide sign of brotherhood today, the binding tie between the East and West! Good coffee pleases in a Persian dell, And Blackfeet Indians make it more than well.

The lonely traveler in the desert range, if thou art with him, smiles at eventide-- The sailor, as thy perfume bubbles forth, laughs at the ocean as it rages wide-- And where the camps of fighting men are found Thy fragrance hovers o'er each battleground.

"Use, not abuse, the good things of this life"--that is a motto from the Prophet's days, And, dealing with thee thus, we ne'er shall come to troublous times or parting of the ways. Comfort and solace both endure with thee, Rich, royal berry of the coffee tree!

The New York Tribune published in 1915 the following lines by Louis Untermeyer, which were subsequently included in his "---- and Other Poets."[352]

GILBERT K. CHESTERTON RISES TO THE TOAST OF COFFEE

Strong wine it is a mocker; strong wine it is a beast. It grips you when it starts to rise; it is the Fabled Yeast. You should not offer ale or beer from hops that are freshly picked, Nor even Benedictine to tempt a benedict. For wine has a spell like the lure of hell, and the devil has mixed the brew; And the friends of ale are a sort of pale and weary, witless crew-- And the taste of beer is a sort of a queer and undecided brown-- But, comrades, I give you coffee--drink it up, drink it down. With a fol-de-rol-dol and a fol-de-rol-dee, etc.

Oh, cocoa's the drink for an elderly don who lives with an elderly niece; And tea is the drink for studios and loud and violent peace-- And brandy's the drink that spoils the clothes when the bottle breaks in the trunk; But coffee's the drink that is drunken by men who will never be drunk. So, gentlemen, up with the festive cup, where Mocha and Java unite; It clears the head when things are said too brilliant to be bright! It keeps the stars from the golden bars and the lips of the tipsy town; So, here's to strong, black coffee--drink it up, drink it down! With a fol-de-rol-dol and a fol-de-rol-dee, etc.

The American breakfast cup is celebrated in up-to-date American style in the following by Helen Rowland in the New York Evening World:

WHAT EVERY WIFE KNOWS

Give me a man who drinks good, hot, dark, strong coffee for breakfast! A man who smokes a good, dark, fat cigar after dinner! You may marry your milk-faddist, or your anti-coffee crank, as you will! But I know the magic of the coffee pot! Let me make my Husband's coffee--and I care not who makes eyes at him! Give me two matches a day-- One to start the coffee with, at breakfast, and one for his cigar, after dinner! And I defy all the houris in Christendom to light a new flame in his heart!

Oh, sweet supernal coffee-pot! Gentle panacea of domestic troubles, Faithful author of that sweet nepenthe which deadens all the ills that married folks are heir to. Cheery, glittering, soul-soothing, warmed hearted, inanimate friend! What wife can fail to admit the peace and serenity she owes to you? To you, who stand between her and all her early morning troubles-- Between her and the before-breakfast grouch-- Between her and the morning-after headache-- Between her and the cold-gray-dawn scrutiny? To you, who supply the golden nectar that stimulates the jaded masculine soul, Soothes the shaky masculine nerves, stirs the fagged masculine mind, inspires the slow masculine sentiment, And starts the sluggish blood a-flowing and the whole day right!

What is it, I ask you, when he comes down to breakfast dry of mouth, and touchy of temper-- That gives him pause, and silences that scintillating barb of sarcasm on the tip of his tongue, With which he meant to impale you? It is the sweet aroma of the coffee-pot--the thrilling thought of that first delicious sip!

What is it, on the morning after the club dance, That hides your weary, little, washed-out face and straggling, uncurled coiffure from his critical eyes? It is the generous coffee-pot, standing like a guardian angel between you and him! And in those many vital psychological moments, during the honeymoon, which decide for or against the romance and happiness of all the rest of married life-- Those critical before-breakfast moments when temperament meets temperament, and will meets "won't"-- What is it that halts you on the brink of tragedy, And distracts you from the temptation to answer back? It is the absorbing anxiety of watching the coffee boil! What is it that warms his veins and soothes your nerves, And turns all the world suddenly from a dismal gray vale of disappointment to a bright rosy garden of hope-- And starts another day gliding smoothly along like a new motor car? What is it that will do more to transform a man from a fiend into an angel than baptism in the River Jordan? It is the first cup of coffee in the morning!

Coffee in Dramatic Literature

Coffee was first "dramatized", so to speak, in England, where we read that Charles II and the Duke of Yorke attended the first performance of Tarugo's Wiles, or the Coffee House, a comedy, in 1667, which Samuel Pepys described as "the most ridiculous and insipid play I ever saw in my life." The author was Thomas St. Serf. The piece opens in a lively manner, with a request on the part of its fashionable hero for a change of clothes. Accordingly, Tarugo puts off his "vest, hat, perriwig, and sword," and serves the guests to coffee, while the apprentice acts his part as a gentleman customer. Presently other "customers of all trades and professions" come dropping into the coffee house. These are not always polite to the supposed coffee-man; one complains of his coffee being "nothing but warm water boyl'd with burnt beans," while another desires him to bring "chocolette that's prepar'd with water, for I hate that which is encouraged with eggs." The pedantry and nonsense uttered by a "schollar" character is, perhaps, an unfair specimen of coffee-house talk; it is especially to be noticed that none of the guests ventures upon the dangerous ground of politics.

In the end, the coffee-master grows tired of his clownish visitors, saying plainly, "This rudeness becomes a suburb tavern rather than my coffee house"; and with the assistance of his servants he "thrusts 'em all out of doors, after the schollars and customers pay."

In 1694, there was published Jean Baptiste Rosseau's comedy, Le Caffè, which appears to have been acted only once in Paris, although a later English dramatist says it met with great applause in the French capital. Le Caffè was written in Laurent's café, which was frequented by Fontenelle, Houdard de la Motte, Dauchet, the abbé Alary Boindin, and others. Voltaire said that "this work of a young man without any experience either of the world of letters or of the theater seems to herald a new genius."

About this time it was the fashion for the coffee-house keepers of Paris, and the waiters, to wear Armenian costumes; for Pascal had builded better than he knew. In La Foire Saint-Germain, a comedy by Dancourt, played in 1696, one of the principal characters is old "Lorange, a coffee merchant clothed as an Armenian". In scene 5, he says to Mlle. Mousset, "a seller of house dresses" that he has been "a naturalized Armenian for three weeks."

Mrs. Susannah Centlivre (1667?-1723), in her comedy, A Bold Stroke for a Wife, produced about 1719, has a scene laid in Jonathan's coffee house about that period. While the stock jobbers are talking in the first scene of act II, the coffee boys are crying, "Fresh Coffee, gentlemen, fresh coffee?... Bohea tea, gentlemen?"

Henry Fielding (1707-1754) published "The Coffee-House Politician, or Justice caught in his own trap," a comedy, in 1730.

The Coffee House, a dramatick Piece by James Miller, was performed at the Theater Royal in Drury Lane in 1737. The interior of Dick's coffee house figured as an engraved frontispiece to the published version of the play.

The author states in the preface that "this piece is partly taken from a comedy of one act written many years ago in French by the famous Rosseau, called 'Le Caffè', which met with great applause in Paris." The coffee house in the play is conducted by the Widow Notable, who has a pretty daughter for whom, like all good mothers, she is anxious to arrange a suitable marriage.

In the first scene, an acrimonious conversation takes place between Puzzle, the Politician, and Bays, the poet, in which squabble the Pert Beau and the Solemn Beau, and other habitués of the place take part. Puzzle discovers that a comedian and other players are in the room, and insists that they be ejected or forbidden the house. The Widow is justly incensed, and indignantly replies:

Forbid the Players my House, Sir! Why, Sir, I get more by them in a Week than I do by you in seven Years. You come here and hold a paper in your hand for an Hour, disturb the whole Company with your Politics, call for Pen and Ink, Paper and Wax, beg a Pipe of Tobacco, burn out half a Candle, eat half a Pound of Sugar, and then go away, and pay Two-pence for a Dish of Coffee. I could soon shut up my doors, if I had not some other good People to make amends for what I lose by such as you, Sir.

All join the Widow in scoffing and jeering, and exit the highly discomfited Puzzle. The pretty little Kitty tricks her mother with the aid of the Player, and marries the man of her choice, but is forgiven when he is found to be a gentleman of the Temple.

The play is in one act and has several songs. The last is one of five stanzas, with music "set by Mr. Caret:"

SONG

What Pleasures a Coffee-House daily bestows! To read and hear how the World merrily goes; To laugh, sing and prattle of This, That, and T' other; And be flatter'd and ogl'd and kiss'd too, like Mother.

Here the Rake, after Roving and Tipling all Night, For his Groat in the Morning may set his Head right. And the Beau, who ne'er fouls his White fingers with Brass, May have his Sixpen' worth of--Stare in the Glass.

The Doctor, who'd always be ready to kill, May ev'ry Day here take his Stand, if he will; And the soldier, who'd bluster and challenge secure, May draw boldly here, for--we'll hold him he's sure.

The Lawyer, who's always in quest of his Prey, May find fools here to feed upon every Day; And the sage Politician, in Coffee-Grounds known, May point out the Fate of each Crown but--his own.

Then, Gallants, since ev'rything here you may find That pleasures the Fancy or profits the Mind, Come all, and take each a full Dish of Delight, And crowd up our Coffee-House every night.

[Illustration: SONG FROM "THE COFFEE HOUSE"]

John Timbs tells us this play "met with great opposition on its representation, owing to its being stated that the characters were intended for a particular family (that of Mrs. Yarrow and her daughter) who kept Dick's, the coffee-house which the artist had inadvertently selected as the frontispiece. It appears," Timbs continues, "that the landlady and her daughter were the reigning toast of the Templars, who then frequented Dick's; and took the matter up so strongly that they united to condemn the farce on the night of its production; they succeeded, and even extended their resentment to everything suspected to be this author's (the Rev. James Miller) for a considerable time after."

Carlo Goldoni, who has been called the Molière of Italy, wrote La Bottega di Caffè, (The Coffee House), a naturalistic comedy of bourgeois Venice, satirizing scandal and gambling, in 1750. The scene is a Venetian coffee house (probably Florian's), where several actions take place simultaneously. Among several remarkable studies is one of a prattling slanderer, Don Marzio, which ranks as one of the finest bits of original character drawing the stage has ever seen. The play was produced in English by the Chicago Theatre Society in 1912. Chatfield-Taylor[353] thinks Voltaire probably imitated La Bottega di Caffè in his Le Café, ou l'Ecossaise. Goldoni was a lover of coffee, a regular frequenter of the coffee houses of his time, from which he drew much in the way of inspiration. Pietro Longhi, called the Venetian Hogarth, in one of his pictures presenting life and manners in Venice during the years of her decadence, shows Goldoni as a visitor in a café of the period, with a female mendicant soliciting alms. It is in the collection of Professor Italico Brass.

Goldoni, in the comedy The Persian Wife, gives us a glimpse of coffee making in the middle of the eighteenth century. He puts these words into the mouth of Curcuma, the slave:

Here is the coffee, ladies, coffee native of Arabia, And carried by the caravans into Ispahan. The coffee of Arabia is certainly always the best. While putting forth its leaves on one side, upon the other the flowers appear; Born of a rich soil, it wishes shade, or but little sun. Planted every three years is this little tree in the surface of the soil. The fruit, though truly very small, Should yet grow large enough to become somewhat green. Later, when used, it should be freshly ground. Kept in a warm and dry place and jealously guarded.

* * * * *

But a small quantity is needed to prepare it. Put in the desired quantity and do not spill it over the fire; Heat it till the foam rises, then let it subside again away from the fire; Do this seven times at least, and coffee is made in a moment.

In 1760 there appeared in France Le Café, ou l'Ecossaise, comédie, which purported to have been written by a Mr. Hume, an Englishman, and to have been translated into French. It was in reality the work of Voltaire, who had brought out another play, Socrates, in the same manner a short time before. Le Café, was translated into English the same year under the title The Coffee House, or Fair Fugitive. The title page says the play is written by "Mr. Voltaire" and translated from the French. It is a comedy in five acts. The principal characters are: Fabrice, a good-natured man and the keeper of the coffee house; Constantia, the fair fugitive; Sir William Woodville, a gentleman of distinction under misfortune; Belmont, in love with Constantia, a man of fortune and interest; Freeport, a merchant and an epitome of English manners; Scandal, a sharper; and Lady Alton, in love with Belmont.

Il Caffè di Campagna, a play with music by Galuppi, appeared in Italy in 1762.

Another Italian play, a comedy called La Caffettiéra da Spirito was produced in 1807.

Hamilton, a play by Mary P. Hamlin and George Arliss, the latter also playing the title rôle, was produced in America by George C. Tyler in 1918. The first-act scene is laid in the Exchange coffee house of Philadelphia, during the period of Washington's first administration. Among the characters introduced in this scene are James Monroe, Count Tallyrand, General Philip Schuyler, and Thomas Jefferson.

The authors very faithfully reproduce the atmosphere of the coffee house of Washington's time. As Tallyrand remarks, "Everybody comes to see everybody at the Exchange Coffee House.... It is club, restaurant, merchants' exchange, everything."

The Autocrat of the Coffee Stall, a play in one act, by Harold Chapin, was published in New York in 1921.

Coffee and Literature in General

An interesting book might be written on the transformation that tea and coffee have wrought in the tastes of famous literary men. And of the two stimulants, coffee seems to have furnished greater refreshment and inspiration to most. However, both beverages have made civilization their debtor in that they weaned so many fine minds from the heavy wines and spirits in which they once indulged.

Voltaire and Balzac were the most ardent devotees of coffee among the French literati. Sir James Mackintosh (1765-1832), the Scottish philosopher and statesman, was so fond of coffee that he used to assert that the powers of a man's mind would generally be found to be proportional to the quantity of that stimulant which he drank. His brilliant schoolmate and friend, Robert Hall (1764-1831), the Baptist minister and pulpit orator, preferred tea, of which he sometimes drank a dozen cups. Cowper; Parson and Parr, the famous Greek scholars; Dr. Samuel Johnson; and William Hazlitt, the writer and critic, were great tea drinkers; but Burton, Dean Swift, Addison, Steele, Leigh Hunt, and many others, celebrated coffee.

Dr. Charles B. Reed, professor in the medical school of Northwestern University, says that coffee may be considered as a type of substance that fosters genius. History seems to bear him out. Coffee's essential qualities are so well defined, says Dr. Reed, that one critic has claimed the ability to trace throughout the works of Voltaire those portions that came from coffee's inspiration. Tea and coffee promote a harmony of the creative faculties that permits the mental concentration necessary to produce the masterpieces of art and literature.