We have talked much
and often about ‘banquets’ in previous posts, and have touched on the wonderful
phenomenon of ‘banqueting houses.’ In times past, when a banquet was a final
course of fruits and sweetmeats, this course was usually taken in another room
– and sometimes a separate building altogether – the banqueting house.
In 1529, the third
earl of Atholl took this concept of a separate banqueting house an unbelievable
amount further. He built a huge hunting and feasting ‘palace’ in the woodlands
for the purposes of entertaining his king – and had it burned down as soon as
the visit was over.
I give you some
details of this amazing event, cobbled together from several sources.
In
1529 John, third earl of Atholl, a great feudal magnate with vast dominions,
gave King James, Margaret the Queen Mother,
the papal nuncio and ‘a numerous train of followers,’ a magnificent
entertainment in the shape of a hunt, at which the king was ‘as well served and
eased, with all things necessary to his Estate, as if he had been in his own
palace in Edinburgh’; the earl had a special woodland palace constructed of
green timber, the floor strewn with rushes and flowers, and the walls hung with
tapestry and arrases of silk, with actual glass in the windows. The banquet
held within this rustic folly, twenty miles from any dwelling, (and which was
destroyed when the banquet was finished, according to Highland custom,)
included ale, beer, wine, both white and claret and aqua vitae, and for food, every kind of meat from beef, mutton, and
venison to swan and peacock, fish including salmon, pike and eels, and even
gingerbread.
A
thousand men were employed to herd deer to the hunting grounds, for His
Majesty’s pleasure.
There
was killed ‘thirty score hart and hynd, with other small beasts, as roe, wolf,
fox and wild cats’.
The
king remained in this wilderness the space of three days and three nights.
The
whole entertainment was supposed to have cost Atholl ₤1000 a day, and the
nuncio summed up his reaction in outspoken terms: he thought it a ‘great marvel
that such a thing could be in Scotland, considering it was named the arse of
the world in other countries.’
No
sooner did the royal visitant take his departure, than Atholl caused his
highlandmen to set fire to the palace and huts which had been reared for the
occasion, “that the king and the ambassador might see them on fire. Then the
ambassador said to the king, “I marvel sir, that you should thole your fair
palace to be burnt, that your grace has been so well lodged int” – then the
king answered the ambassador and said, “it is the use of our highlandmen,
though they never be so well lodged, to burn their lodgings when they depart.
Alas! I cannot give you a sixteenth century Scottish game
recipe. I feel sure that cooks have always been clever with leftover venison,
however, so give you a nice recipe for venison hash from the wonderful Scottish
woman, Mrs Dalgairns.
To HashVenison.
For a gravy, boil a part of the bone
and trimmings of the cold haunch in a little water; season with a few
peppercorns and some salt; strain and thicken it with a bit of butter rolled in
flour, add a glass of port wine, and a tablespoonful of mushroom catsup, and
one of currant jelly. When hot, add the venison cut into thin slices, heat it
thoroughly, and serve with sippets of toasted bread.
The Practice of Cookery in Everyday
Life, (1830) by Mrs. Dalgairns.
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