An angry murmur pervaded the upper table on Sir Francis's appearance;
and something was said which, though he could not gather its precise
import did not sound agreeably to his ears. He felt he had unwittingly
brought his head near a hornet's nest, and might esteem himself lucky if
he escaped without stinging. However, there was no retreating now; for
though his fear counselled flight, very shame restrained him.
The repast was varied and abundant, consisting of all kinds of
fricassees, collops and rashers, boiled salmon from the Thames, trout
and pike from the same river, boiled pea-chickens, and turkey-poults,
and florentines of puff paste, calves-foot pies, and set custards.
Between each guest a boiled salad was placed, which was nothing more
than what we should term a dish of vegetables, except that the
vegetables were somewhat differently prepared; cinnamon, ginger, and
sugar being added to the pulped carrots, besides a handful of currants,
vinegar, and butter. A similar plan was adopted with the salads of
burrage, chicory, marigold leaves, bugloss, asparagus, rocket, and
alexanders, and many other plants discontinued in modern cookery, but
then much esteemed; oil and vinegar being used with some, and spices
with all; while each dish was garnished with slices of hard-boiled eggs.
A jowl of sturgeon was carried to the upper table, where there was also
a baked swan, and a roasted bustard, flanked by two stately venison
pasties. This was only the first service; and two others followed,
consisting of a fawn, with a pudding inside it, a grand salad, hot olive
pies, baked neats' tongues, fried calves' tongues, baked Italian
puddings, a farced leg of lamb in the French fashion, orangeado pie,
buttered crabs, anchovies, and a plentiful supply of little made dishes,
and _quelquechoses_, scattered over the table.
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