Hedgehogs: Medieval Legends and Recipes

Greetings good people. Lend me thine ears for a tale most wondrous, recounting the role hedgehogs played in medieval society. We shall also speak of their distant cousin, the porcupine. Verily, these beauteous creatures holdeth secrets most fascinating, from their usage in our daily lives, to their symbolism in the heraldry of kings. In the world of yore, many a misconception hath taken hold about the humble hedgehog. Some folk believe they sup on cow's milk, which hath made it seem permissible to hunt the creatures, despite their gentle and unassuming ways. It hath also been a commonly held belief that hedgehogs employ their sharp quills to skewer fruits and other foods. These curious notions took root in the minds of many, despite the hedgehog's true nature being very different from such fanciful tales. In the Rochester Beastery, a wondrous tome from 13th century England, hedgehogs are illustrated rolling upon the ground to collect grapes for their young. Tis said that these creatures would creep into vineyards when the grapes were ripe, climb the vines, and shake the fruit to the ground. Instead of partaking of this bounty forthwith, they would roll upon their backs, impaling the grapes with their sharp quills. Thus laden, they could trundle off to their burrows to provide a feast for their offspring. The authors of the beastery, in their wisdom, drew from this curious behaviour a cautionary tale of the devil's wily schemes, ever seeking to pilfer the spiritual fruits that nourish man's immortal soul. Verily, in our time, hedgehogs be not merely cute, prickly beasts. They possess great symbolic import in matters of art and faith. The hedgehog, oft depicted curled up neath a bush, its spines in a protective array, represents prudence and self-preservation. Yet, our perception of the humble hedgehog does not always shine with favour and admiration. In the sermons of St Anthony of Padua, sinners are likened to hedgehogs, for they are covered with the prickles of sin. When confronted with their transgressions, these sinners would roll themselves up, hiding by excusing their fault, much like the hedgehog curling into a ball. The hedgehog's head and mouth, set low down, were seen as symbolic of the sinner's thoughts and words, born from ignorance or the devil's suggestion. In heraldry, the hedgehog, or urchin, as it was oft termed, makes its appearance in various coats of arms, such as those of the As a prickly creature with distinctive spines and unique behaviour, it serves as a striking and memorable symbol for those who bear it upon their crests and shields. And lo, the hedgehog oft finds its way to our dining tables as well. Cooks of old have penned recipes for hedgehog meat, which, they say, boasts a taste much like that of poultry. In the preparation of this dish, one must first remove the spines and skin. Then roast the flesh on a spit, or bake it in a pie. Now, good folk, lend us thine attention, for we shall share with thee a recipe for preparing the humble hedgehog as a dish for thy supper. This cometh from the esteemed manuscript, Le Ménagier de Paris. First, thou must taketh a hedgehog and cut its throat, then singe and gut it, tying up the legs like you would a young hen. Press it firmly in a cloth until it is very dry. Roast the hedgehog and serve it with cameline sauce or encased in pastry as a pie. Should the creature refuse to unroll during the process, place it in hot water, and it will straighten itself forthwith. Of course, this recipe is for only thine ears to savour. Thou should not attempt to cook such a dish in thine age, for thou have much finer forms of sustenance and in greater plenty. But know also that in times of yore, the meat of a hedgehog was said to be most beneficial for those afflicted with leprosy. According to the scribes, those who dry the hedgehog's intestines, grind them to a powder, and partake a small amount thereof, shall find themselves able to pass urine, even if they could not do so before. Now, allow me to present to thee a recipe from the form of curie, which details a dish designed to resemble a hedgehog. It is known that royal chefs of yore would prepare fanciful display dishes, which were known as subtleties. These would amuse and delight the guests at grand banquets. Take the stomachs of six or seven pigs, one larger than the rest. Stuff the stomachs with a mixture of ground pork, eggs, pepper, and cloves, as well as saffron, salt, and currants. Sow the stomachs securely and parboil them. Then stick them full of bits of fried dough, so that they look like hedgehogs without legs. Roast on a spit until done, coloring them with saffron in a thin batter. Thus, the medieval banquet table would oft be adorned with such whimsical dishes, crafted to resemble creatures such as hedgehogs, both delighting and nourishing those fortunate enough to partake. Let us now turn our attention to the porcupine, a distant cousin to the hedgehog. These creatures, larger and more formidable than their common kin, have also found their place in the annals of our medieval society. In heraldry, the porcupine is a symbol of invulnerability and protection due to its impressive quills. It was an oft-recounted legend that the porcupine could shoot its quills at attackers. Having gained such a reputation, the porcupine came to adorn the coat of arms of Louis XII of France, who reigned from 1498 to 1515. King Louis XII, in his great wisdom, did hold the porcupine in such high esteem that it became his personal emblem, gracing the very coins of his realm. This noble creature, steadfast and resolute in its nature, was said to mirror the character of the king himself. With its quills arrayed in a fearsome display, the porcupine standeth ever prepared to defend itself and its kingdom from any who would dare to challenge it. In our day, porcupines were far luckier than their humble hedgehog brethren. These formidable beasts were deemed too rare and wondrous to be consumed as food. Our admiration for their unique appearance hath earned them a special place in our hearts, sparing them from the cook's cauldron. Thus, dear viewers, the porcupine, much like the humble hedgehog, held a place of great importance in our medieval world. As symbols of steadfastness and resilience, these creatures continue to inspire us, guiding us through the trials and tribulations of our time. Here endeth our tale of hedgehogs and porcupines in medieval society, creatures both symbolic and practical, touching our lives in many ways. Fare thee well, and if our paths should cross again, you shall learn much more about our bygone time.