This section is from the book "Drinks Of The World", by James Mew. Also available from Amazon: Drinks of the world,.
Introduction of Tea into Europe - Early Authorities thereon - "Tay" - Its Introduction into England - Excise Duty thereon - Thomas Garway's Advertisement.
When tea was first introduced into Europe is still an unsettled question, and the earliest mention that the writers can find (that ,is, to verify) is in a volume of Travels by Father Giovanni Pietro Maffei,1 published 1588 (book vi., p. 109). Speaking of his travels in China, he says: "Quanquam e vitibus more nostro non exprimunt merum, uvas quodam condimenti genere in hyemem adservare, mos est; coeterum ex herba quadam expressus liquor admodum salutaris, nomine Chia, calidus hauritur, ut apud Japonios: Cujus maxime beneficio, pituitam, grave-dinem, lippitudinem nesciunt; vitam bene longam, sine ullo ferme languore traducunt, oleis alicubi carent." "Although they do not extract wine from the vines as we do, but have a custom of preserving the grapes as a kind of condiment for the winter, they yet press out of a certain herb, a liquor which is very healthy which is called Chia, and they drink it hot, as do the Japanese. And the use of this causes them not to know the meaning of phlegm, heaviness of the head, or running of the eyes, but they live a long and happy life, without pain, or infirmity of any sort."
1 Joannis Petri Maffeii Bergomatis, e Societate Jesu, Historiarum Indicarum, etc. Florentiae, 1588.
Another early mention of it is in a book by Giovanni Botero,1 which was translated into English by Robert Peterson, " of Lincolne's Inne, Gent." He says (P- 75), " They haue also an herbe, out of which they presse a delicate iuyce, which serues them for drincke instead of wyne. It also preserues their health, and frees them from all those euills, that the immoderat vse of wyne doth breed vnto us."
Early in the seventeenth century tea was becoming known in Europe, mainly through the instrumentality of the Dutch East India Company, and we learn much about it in the writings of Father Alexandre de Rhodes, who, after thirty-five years' travel, gave the benefit of his experiences to the public. He left Rome in October, 1618, and thus writes about "De l'vsage du Tay, qui est fort ordinaire en la Chine." l He says, "One of the things which, in my opinion, contributes most to the great health of this people, who often attain to extreme old age, is Tay, the use of which is very common throughout the East, and which is beginning to be known in France, by means of the Dutch, who bring it from China, and sell it at Paris at 30 francs the pound, which they have bought in that country for 8 or 10 sols, and yet I perceive that it is very old, and spoilt. Thus it is that we brave Frenchmen suffer strangers to enrich themselves in the East India trade, whence they might draw the fairest treasures of the world, if they had but the courage to undertake it as well as their neighbours, who have less means of being successful than they have.
1 Delle Cause della grandezza delle Citta, etc., del Giovanni Botero. Milano, ed. 1596, p. 61.
"Tay is a leaf as large as that of our pomegranate, and it grows on shrubs similar to the myrtle: it does not exist elsewhere throughout the world, but in two provinces of China, where it grows. The chief is that of Nanquin, whence comes the best Tay, which they call Chd; the other is the province of Chin Chean. The gathering of this leaf in both these provinces is made with as much care as we exercise in our vintage, and its abundance is so great, that they have enough to supply the rest of China, Japan, Tonquin, Cochin China, and several other kingdoms, where the use of tea is so common, that those who drink it but three times a day are most moderate, many taking it ten or twelve times, or, in other words, at all hours of the day.
1 Divers Voyages et Missions du P. Alexandre de Rhodes, en la autres Royaumes de l Orient, etc. Paris, 1653, p. 49.
Chine,
"When the leaf is gathered, it is well dried in an oven, after which it is put in tin boxes, which are tightly closed, because if the air gets to it it, is spoiled, and has no strength, the same as wine that is exposed to the air. I leave you to judge if Messieurs the Hollanders take care of that when they sell it in France. To know whether the Tay is good, you must see that it is very green, bitter, and so dry as to be easily broken with the fingers. If it passes these tests, it is good; otherwise, be assured it is not worth much.
"This is how the Chinese treat the Tay when they take it. Some water is boiled in a very clean pot, and when it boils it is taken off the fire, and this leaf is put therein, according to the quantity of water: that is to say, the weight of a crown of Tay to a large glass of water. They cover the pot well, and, when the leaves sink to the bottom of the water, then is the time to drink it, for then it is that the Tay has communicated its virtue to the water, and made it of a reddish colour. They drink it as hot as they can, for it is good for nothing if it gets cold. The same leaves which remain at the bottom of the pot will serve a second time, but then they boil them with the water.
"The Japanese take Tay differently, for they make it into powder, which they throw into boiling water, and swallow the whole. I know not whether this method of making it is more wholesome than the former; I always use it thus, and find that it is common among the Chinese. Both mix a little sugar with the Tay to correct the bitterness, which, however, does not seem disagreeable to me.
"There are three chief virtues in Tay. The first is to cure and prevent headache; for my part, when I had a headache, by taking Tay, I felt so comforted, that it seemed to draw all my pain away, for the principal force in Tay is to expel those gross vapours that mount to the head, and inconvenience us. If it is taken after supper, it generally hinders sleep; yet there are some in whom it causes sleep, because by only expelling the grossest vapours, it leaves those which induce sleep. For myself, I have experienced it often enough, when I have been obliged to sit up all night hearing the confessions of my native Christians, which frequently happened; I had only to take Tay at the hour when I should have been going to sleep, and I could go all night without wishing for sleep, and next morning I was as fresh as if I had had my usual slumber. I could do this once a week without being incommoded. Once I tried to continue this wakefulness for six consecutive nights, but on the sixth I was quite knocked up.
 
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