The Magna Carta— the historical document that stated the King of England and his government were not above the law — came into existence in June 1215. It signified the end of a stand-off between the then monarch, John, and the group of prominent barons who had rebelled against his rule — a compromise brokered by the Archbishop of Canterbury. While a milestone moment indeed in English history, the Magna Carta whose clauses rest in the Statute Book of the United Kingdom today is not the one King John of England signed in 1215, but a substantially revised version reissued by his son, Henry III, a decade later on 11 February 1225. It is Henry’s document from 1225 that was endorsed as having the greatest legitimacy.
But on that 15th day of June, in the year 1215, the jubilant rebel barons would not have known that this charter they were rejoicing over, would undergo three rounds of revisions until reaching its most lasting form. They would have been exhilarated at the thought of having shaped the course of England’s present and future.
FOR SUCH A seminal historical event, the Magna Carta is in some respects poorly recorded. One of the many things we don’t know is how the barons who forced King John to assent to Magna Carta at Runnymede celebrated when it was all over.
The rebellious barons had been based in London since negotiations with the king had started in May that year, while John himself had moved around between Reading and Windsor. He dined at Windsor on 10 June, then probably returned to the royal castle after having spent the day at Runnymede in preliminary discussions. The barons were under safe conduct as long as the peace conference at Runnymede that resulted in Magna Carta lasted, but they were camping in royalist-held territory so it probably wasn’t until they returned to London that they could contemplate a feast fitting for the occasion.
Gluttony In London
Being based in London meant that the widest range of foods should have been available to the barons. Although government and commerce were not yet as centralised as they were to become, London was already the largest urban centre and the largest market in the country.
A description of the city by Londoner William FitzStephen during the reign of John’s father Henry II mentions the quantity and variety of food for sale in shops near the river:
You may find food according to the season, dishes of meat, roast, fried and boiled, large and small fish, coarser meats for the poor and more delicate for the rich.
What we know about feasts in noble households at the time of Magna Carta suggests that meat, fish, pies, rissoles and locally grown green vegetables and herbs in thin soup — leeks, chard, parsley, sorrel — would have featured heavily. Feasts were characterised by a proliferation of many dishes served at the same time rather than in “removes” or courses and guests took some of each. Sweet fruit pastries were served at the same time as roast meat.
William FitzStephen also boasted that London was also a magnet for trade: “To this city from every nation under heaven merchants delight to bring their trade by sea.” What may have been self-evident to William was in fact the result of a longer process: the revival over a period beginning in the early 1100s of long-distance trade connecting northern Europe to the Mediterranean and, via Levantine ports such as Alexandria and Acre, to the natural resources of Asia and Africa: silk, cotton, gold, but especially spices.
A Spicier Era
The revival of trade enabled a food revolution to take place in European kitchens. The wealthy had of course always been able to eat better than the poor, but until the 12th century the differences were largely in quantity and in the ratio of meat to cereals. Trade with the east, however, opened up new kinds of food — imported fruit and vegetables; spices such as pepper, cumin, cinnamon, saffron and ginger. But importantly, new methods of cooking and new tastes — for those who could afford them — also filtered through.
One of the first European recipe books dates from the end of the 13th century, but probably reflects tastes that had been introduced a couple of generations earlier, around the time of Magna Carta. If today’s food writers were reviewing it they’d probably call it “fusion”. The recipes show how cooking techniques and tastes had been profoundly influenced by eastern Mediterranean practices.
One such is a dish called “Syrian Food”, in which a capon is poached with rice flour in a mixture of white wine and almond milk with ginger and another new import, sugar. Syrian Food, or Syrian Chicken, became a standard of medieval cookery by the 14th century.
This is also found in a slightly different form in the first cookbook in the English language, The Forme of Cury on Inglysch (14th century). The essence of this kind of cooking is the combination of sweet spices or flavours with meat or fish. In the recipe for “luce in soup”, the fish is parboiled whole, then fried in a pan around which raw egg yolk has been rubbed and sugar sprinkled. The fish is served with onions stewed in wine and flavoured with saffron.
Celebrity Chefs
Further evidence of the Mediterranean provenance of the recipes in The Forme of Cury on Inglysch is what may be the first appearance in England of pasta. The word is used to describe a flour-and-egg dough sweetened with sugar and ginger and boiled in strips, then covered with melted cheese. Another new taste revealed in this recipe book is the use of flowers in food, such as in a recipe for rose-petal soup made with almond milk.
By the late 14th century Europe had its first celebrity chefs, notably the French Guillaume Tirel, whose Le Viandier placed cooking within the wider context of household management. But at the time of Magna Carta celebrity chefs and such developed tastes for Middle Eastern flavours were a way off. Chefs cooking for the barons celebrating after Runnymede were more likely to have known the Sicilian Book of Cooking, which was heavily inspired by Arabic styles of cooking and spices commonly in use in the Middle East.
So although we can only speculate, the feasting after Magna Carta may well have included some of the first examples of such eastern Mediterranean styles of cooking in England, alongside traditional roast and baked meats.
As to what the barons would have imbibed — wine, usually watered down, would have flowed at their tables. There is some intriguing evidence to the effect that some English preferred beer to wine, but in the 13th century there were vineyards in many areas of southern England — often planted by monasteries — and wine was also imported in large quantities. At this historic feast, no doubt, there would have been lots of it.The Conversation
Andrew Jotischky is professor in History, Lancaster University. This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons Licence.