Screw the War, We're Partying/Quotes
Those who always have plenty can at times feel uncomfortable knowing that others cannot enjoy their luxurious banquets. Sometimes they act on their scruples. Karl, the last ruler of the Austro-Hungarian empire, when being crowned king of Hungary in 1916 thoughtfully acknowledged his subjects distressed situation due to the First World War. He made his coronation feast an occasion which for all the right reasons did not leave a delicious taste in the mouths of his illustrious guests. Coming right at the end of centuries of truly lavish feasting in Europe this was one of the last opportunities for a display of royal grandeur although the new king could not know that within a few years his entire empire would cease to exist.
Such luxury seems out of place in this chapter but there is a twist to the story. Each of the noblemen in that magnificent procession of dishes presented his golden platter with a bow to the king and queen and then one after the other simply carried on marching out of the dining room. History does not record whether the crown prince got any of his basket of sweets but it is assumed not because as these were disappearing out of the door the new king rose to his feet and in the stunned silence raises a crystal goblet of Tokay wine to make a toast: 'Long live our country.' After a moments silence came the response: 'Long live the King'. The guns outside sounded a salute and the coronation banquet was over. As soon as the food reached the kitchens it was transferred to a nearby hospital to feed badly wounded victims of the war. At what should have been the greatest feast of his life, the king gives away his food and fasts instead as a symbol of the responsible ruler he hopes to be, an act of sympathy for his beleaguered subjects.
But to the feast. After the usual array of distinguished guests had assembled in the beautifully decorated castle at Buda they were led in a procession to the dining room. When the royal couple arrived the ancient medieval ritual of handwashing took place. They pulled off their gloves, and a few drops of water were carefully poured over their hands into a ceremonial basin and then dabbed off with fine towels. They were then seated at the high table.
Their meal was served by a long procession of the highest-ranking noblemen in Hungary. They bore nineteen courses in all, each one presented on a magnificent gold platter. The feast started with 'the roast of homage' and went on with a pheasant dressed in all it's plumage(both remnants of medieval feasting), some goose-liver pate with truffles, chicken a la reine, assorted poultry in a salad, a venison pate with truffles, ham, quails in jelly, a stuffed roast sirloin of venison, roasted pork, spit-roasted duck, turkey 'roasted in a medieval manner', a young roasted rooster, mountain trout, a fruit jelly from Tokay, assorted pastries, bonbons, fruit, and finally 'a homage basket for the crown prince' who was only four at the time. This magnificent sweet-basket was was specially created by the pastry chef out of marzapan and spun sugar and was one of the prince's favourite sweets. It is notable that roasted meat predominates in the menu indicating it's high status. It is also interesting that beef is absent making this meal clearly distinct from a British feast.
—Nichola Fletcher, Charlemagne's Tablecloth: A Piquent History of Feasting
The insects have chosen a different line: they have sought first the material welfare and security of the hive, and presumably they have their reward. Men are different. They propound mathematical theorems in beleaguered cities, conduct metaphysical arguments in condemned cells, make jokes on scaffolds, discuss the last new poem while advancing to the walls of Quebec, and comb their hair at Thermopylae. This is not panache; it is our nature.—C. S. Lewis, Learning in Wartime
Venetian officer: Is this a time to marry?
Byzantine Emperor: Soon it may be too late.—The Emperor attending a wedding during the Fall of Constantinople, from The Emperor's Winding Sheet by Jill Paton Walsh
Remember Gentlemen, it's not just France we're fighting for, it's Champagne.—attributed to Sir Winston Churchill
The Germans packed up and left-after a last minute shopping spree in Tehran.—German technical advisers and agents hustled out of Iran by Allied Gunboat Diplomacy during World War II, from Time-Life, War in the Outposts.
'Only the Georgian aristocracy seemed certain of anything,' MacDonell reported. 'They were certain they were going to be wiped out, by whom it did not matter. But until that somebody appeared they meant to have a good time and get rid of any money they had left...'—British observer watching the beginning of the Russian Civil War, from On Secret Service East of Constantinople by Peter Hopkirk
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