Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/334

 CONFESSIONS OF  A TOADSTOOL  EATER.

mono things  not  generally  known  to  the British public  is  the  fact  that  there  are several funguses,  besides  the  common mushroom, which  are  good  to  eat. With this fact,  however,  some  other  publics  are familiar enough,  as  the  Russian  for  in- stance, and the  public  of  Rome  and  other parts of  Italy. In the  Papal  states,  indeed, British ideas  on  the  subject  of  funguses  are reversed. Here the  received  belief  is  that the common  mushroom  is  the  only  one  of the  family  which  is  not  poisonous. There, whilst numerous  varieties  of  what  we  call toadstools are  consumed  by  the  popula- tion, the common  mushroom  is  accounted so unwholesome  that  the  inspector  of  the fungus-market at  Rome  causes  it  to  be thrown  into  the  Tiber. The type  of fungous  orthodoxy  in  England  is  placed at the  Holy  See  in  the  Index  Expurgatorius of the  victualling  department. Agaricus campestris anathema  esto! The reason  of this  is  said  to  be  that  the  qualities  of  the common mushroom,  as  contradistinguished from the  rest  of  its  tribe,  vary  with the soil  whence  it  springs. Mushrooms differ in  different  places; toadstools  are  everywhere  the  same. Even in  this  country  some  people are occasionally  disordered  by  eating  the  genuine  mushroom. Cobbett was  once; and,  of  course, ever afterwards  abused  mushrooms  as  unfit  to  be  eaten  by  anybody. Mushrooms, however,  like  many good creatures,  are  liable  to  unjust  censure. Anybody might  well  expect  to  be  half-poisoned  in consequence  of  eating  them  stale,  in  a state  of  decomposition,  and  swarming  with  insects.]  g

The fact  that  sundry  native  funguses,  which  grotesque  and  fanciful  forms  and  colours,  and

the marvellous  rapidity  with  which  they  spring, have reflected  a supernatural  glimmer,  so  to  speak, on their  origin,  and  caused  them  to  be  imagined as the  work  of  those  airy  spirits

lament in  the  familiar  name  of  toadstools,  are  eat- able, is one  which  I have  personally  verified. In! making my  own  organisation  the  test  of  their  pro- perties, I have laid  myself  open  to  be  told  that  I have  shown  a proper  self-appreciation,  inasmuch as the  experiment  has  been  tried  on  a body which, according  to  a celebrated  axiom,  is  the kind of  one  most  eligible  for  that  purpose. My

and the  circles  of  seared  turf,  or  dark-green  grass,

corpus vile,  however,  has  not  become  vilius  for

which are  the  favourite  haunts  of  many  of  their

whose sport

Is to  make  midnight  mushrooms;

the tentative  use  to  which  it  has  been  thus applied. I have found  all  the  alleged  esculent fungi that  I have  eaten,  and  I have  eaten  con- siderable quantities of  as  many  as  I have been able  to  find,  really  esculent,  and  some  of them  excellent. None of  them  has  ever  dis- agreed with me  in  the  least,  except  one  called the Agaricm  personcUus, a fungus  with  a brownish purple cap  and  violet  gills,  which  comes  up  about the end  of  October  and  the  beginning  of November. On two  occasions,  after  breakfasting  on this  toadstool,  I was  afflicted  with  a stomach- ache, but I have  eaten  it  many  times  without any such  result. The truth  is,  that  on  both occasions, when  it  disagreed  with  me,  I had had it  cooked  in  a peculiar  way,  and  it  was  not thoroughly done. The effects  which  it  produced might have  been  equally  caused  by  a piece  of under-done  pork  or  a half -boiled  potato.

What could  induce  me  to  take  to  fungus- eating? Curiosity, and  a certain  fascination, exerted by  the  sort  of  magical  physiognomy characteristic of  these  strange  productions. This singularity of  their  aspect  is  generally  felt. Their various kinds,  are  actually,  in  common  language, called fairy  rings. Everywhere they  have  been associated in  popular  mythology  with  elves  and hobgoblins. The Dutch  call  them  “Duyvel’s broot.” I wanted  to  know  whether  the  devil’s victuals were  as  good  as  I had  heard  they  were; and the  weird,  uncanny  exterior  of  those  vegetable marvels suggested  that  they  might  be  found  to  be endowed  with  a choice  mysticism  of  flavour. Such had always  struck  me  as  characterising  the  taste of the  common  mushroom,  to  which  I ex- pected to find  theirs  analogous. I had heard of a treatise,  written  by  the  late  Dr.  Badham,  on the  “Esculent  Funguses  of  England,”  and  had often entertained  the  thought  of  getting  it. This occurred to  me  one  day  in  passing  Highley’s  shop in Fleet  Street; but  not  knowing  the  price  of the  work,  and  unwilling  to  invest  any  large amount of  capital  in  pleasing  a whim,  I walked on. In returning  along  the  other  side  of  the Btreet, a few  minutes  afterwards,  I saw  the  very volume at  a bookstall. The price  was  half-a- guinea, — a hobby might  be  worth  that. I ac- cordingly disbursed so  much— or  so  little— and