An extra for today: A fourteenth-century paean to domestic bovines.
Here begins the praise of the cow Many men praise the love of their heart So must I quietly and loudly Bemoan that men toll bells For those without virtue. Men toll for old women When they die, That is great labour. We should rather toll bells eagerly For the good cow. She gives us the white milk Pure and clabbered (? gelebet) Of which you are proud At home when it is well salted. It also makes good cheeses And whey thick and thin That is the pleasure of children. Porridges (mus und brye) made with milk, that is also a good cry, When one shouts out „It is ready“ Many people are happy, No better food was found Between Bolzano and Salerno Than those, I am sure. She also makes good delicacies Which you lay by the beets And treat people to them While you make light with the tallow: Sausages of the brain And the forehead makes Tough leather for flails (That is also good) With which you thresh the grain Pure or mixed. He who has a good beef roast Will gain a soup if he has a roast She also provides a delicacy called marrow That makes people strong And from the bones you make Dice, big and small Those run over the board quickly And many a knave gambles away his skin Which makes him angry. From the horns we get Good combs; What young children there are You should attend to well with those As it should properly be done. Lanterns made of horn You are also glad to have If you put your light inside It is good against the wind. I also say more of the horn, Those who are aching in the back Are scratched with it. And the hunters have a custom That they have chosen for themselves They hold the horn by a strap So they can blow it often. And those who wish to raise birds Larks or finches You give those their drink from it. You arm the bolt (?) In front with cow horn. Of horn you work diligently To shape knife handles. Thus the scribes see Their horns go empty As they write for people. From the skin we make Good wide boots Derm (belly?) leather serves well For feet and soles And, in truth, for bags (wotsecke) And covers over the pack saddle, You would not want to be without those, Chest leathers (armour?), funnels, helmet decorations (helmshorn), You also strap spurs with it. And I will not be silent But talk of the waterskin From which you pour the wine That is also of the cow. So are the useful collars In which the draft horses pull things And the straps for yokes Nobody will gainsay That cattle also pull things with those. And many men will have Belts, broad and narrow, Those are worn everywhere With buckles of bone on them Women and men wear them. Gloves and thimbles, If you need those, you are happy, And bags and pouches. You make bottles of leather And the funnels and stoppers in them To keep the wine in. Straps and scabbards For both sword and knife And the wide(?) fodder container (fuotervaz). I must make yet more verse The bellows must be here That is what smiths demand. Then there is their fine tail, That makes a good wedel (flywhisk?) When you are to shoe horses You shall defend them with it (against flies?), The organ’s high tones All of that comes from the skin, From the sinews the attachment For the bell clapper, Hawk hoods, wrapping bands Armguards, leg wrappings, Gauntlets of leather, All of that is made of leather Which came from the cow As we all have heard. I also speak of covers: You make bags from skins And covers and the helmet As you carry it to the tourney So it stays beautiful And drives away rust. You also cover Shield and buckler with sinew And with cow skin That I say to the people. The strap on the kettle helm (kezzelhuot) Is worn well by knights and sergeants. A (folding) chair of the skin Is good for a cushion A bishop sits on it He cultivates a fine mind. I also will not avoid saying That the skin is used for catapults And I will say more yet In suspended carriages (dem hangenden Wagen) You have cow skins, Brides sit upon it I tell you more yet of the skin You make large books of it From which you sing or read. What else is come of the skin, drums big and small (trummen und tammuren) you should not be sad when they are played. And those are not dreams: Whips, halters, reins, Stirrups, saddle straps, rearstraps, chest straps and bags, understand this Leather padding (?gegenleder), leather straps, A man rides(?) the better, And saddles are adorned finely With leather and with bone. I must now make an effort: Children play with the knuckles And I should also think of The cushions on benches; They are covered in skin In that one is not mistaken. The wooden pattens are exempted On which you step up tall But shoes, wide and narrow, The short and also the long, And leather patches, in truth. From the hair you make Stuffing, rope and felt Thus you make zaumgetilz (adornments for harnesses?) And for the children a ball For all of them to run after Both forward and back. You nail the tail to a door And pull it open and shut with it All of this comes from the cow. The praise is not complete yet Which I have thought of for the cow For she bears young calves That grow into cows and oxen Fat calves innards And the heads are not bad Boiled and roasted You take comfort with them. None of this is a lie: Crossbows and horn bows Would not be worth half an egg All would break into pieces If it wasn’t for the tough sinews That you get from the cow. The Zerfe (spanning string?) with which you string, As someone who goes abroad (taking to the field?), A cover (?scheiden) over your crossbow, That is a joy to them. And you take the hooves, The black and the grey, And turn paternoster beads from them To scare away the devil. You think I would blush If I forgot the bladder This is a good bag for spices (pfeffersag) And once it has cured for four days It becomes a toy. If you want to scare a dog, Tie a bladder to his tail He will think it is hail And cry out with anger. And people learn to swim on them, Both young children and older boys, When they are on the water. And thus the lute sounds further, Those who have no glass for their windows They take up frames With many good flemen (guts? rawhide?) To cover their windows in According to old custom. Liver, kidney, lung Heart, throat, tongue Spleen, galantines, feet The mullin (intestinal fat?) so pleasant Many kinds of guts Whiter than ermine. And then I tell you plaintively: I have forgotten the stomach And the udder so very good That you roast over the embers And the fat rectum. The ordure is taken away warm And spread over the ground, He who would clear poor lands Needs much dung for that. It is better to mourn a good cow Than an evil old woman, That young people are joyful Was ever the displeasure of the old. So many blessings (genade) come from a cow, The king does not know to do better. Thus ends the poem of the cow I should not think this overly hard work.
An exhaustive list of all good things to come from the cow, interesting particularly because we have no German recipes from the 1340s, but can relate some later ones to the foods mentioned here. A few details stand out – keeping spices in dried bladders, using cow tails as doorhandles, and horns as bird feeders. Overall, it is an interesting look at the domestic economy of the fourteenth century, very likely written just before the Black Death hit.
Der König vom Odenwald is an otherwise unknown poet whose work is tentatively dated to the 1340s. His title may refer to a senior rank among musicians or entertainers, a Spielmannskönig, but that is speculative. Many of his poems are humorous and deal with aspects of everyday life which makes them quite interesting to us today. The evident relish with which he describes food and the fact his work is first recorded in a manuscript owned by the de Leone family led scholars to consider him the author of the Buoch von Guoter Spise, but that is unlikely.