Mushroom and Toadstools. How to Distinguish Easily the Differences between Edible and Poisonous Fungi

Perhaps no other country can vie with Great Britain in the vast number of edible species of fungi that may be gathered during all seasons of the year, from one end of the land to the other. The pastures and woodlands literally teem with them; they are, however (sad to say), little known, sadly neglected, or looked upon with unmerited suspicion. The literature, too, of the subject is so small, and the scientific part of the study so extremely difficult to begin, that few persons dare venture to test the qualities of any fungus except the meadow mushroom, and instances are common enough where even this species is rejected. It is apparent that no one can be a sure guide to others who is not himself a “regular fungus eater,” and that no descriptions can be of value, or drawings of use, unless they are taken with the greatest care from the objects themselves. To the best of my ability, 


I have attempted this, and wish to persuade others to test the rare gastronomic qualities of the twenty-nine species figured. The number here described and drawn is only a very small portion of the really valuable species, for I well know that, as a beginner in the study, I made all sorts of mistakes; but, with one exception, I seldom suffered much inconvenience, and I even know instances where confessedly poisonous species have been eaten without ill effect. A little prudence, too often neglected, should be observed in the consumption of fungi: for instance, only young, fresh, and sound specimens should be gathered for the table—for if stale, semi-putrid, and worm-eaten plants are chosen, they are as likely to produce indigestion and inconvenience as meat in a similar condition; they should be eaten in moderation, as a surfeit of sweet mushrooms is as likely to disarrange one’s digestive organs as a surfeit of pastry. If these precautions are attended to, and a moderate amount of bread, salt, pepper, and common sense is used, no accident need occur. Let the specimens be cooked as soon as possible after gathering.

Although the following statement may be difficult to understand, it is nevertheless a fact, that many men do not know what a mushroom is at all, but will eat anything. I will give an instance: A year or two ago, a man in the north of England cooked a large batch of what he called mushrooms, for supper, and succeeded in poisoning his wife and family to death, and himself nearly to death. Some of the things 


he cooked were sent to me for identification, and lo! he had gathered everything he could lay his hands upon; large and small, sweet and foul—off horsedung, and rotten palings, and from wherever he could find anything with a stalk and a top to it after the manner of an umbrella. When he had buried his family and recovered his own health, he carelessly walked into a well, and either killed or much damaged himself—I forget which. I mention this to show the sort of men they are who poison themselves with mushrooms. They would poison themselves with anything else if they had the opportunity; would get under a cart-wheel, or do any absurd thing.

The twenty-nine species figured on the “Edible Sheet” are most of them abundant, and instantly recognizable when seen, and every one is a wholesome and delicious object of food, full of aroma and flavour. I invite my readers to partake of the bountiful feast spread in our rich pastures and shady woodlands all over the country for all who care to partake.

“Mushrooms and Toadstools.”—These two words embrace the whole of the knowledge possessed by the people at large regarding the immense fungus tribe of this country. If we take the mushroom type of fungus as an example, we have some seven hundred species, all possessing a certain general similitude of form. This has caused many to look upon fungi in common as equivocal productions, difficult or impossible to distinguish as permanent species; but when the study is once entered upon 


in earnest, the student will soon perceive that the species, as a rule, are marked with great distinctness and permanency, rendering the recognition of most of them as certain as in any species of flowering plant.

When the study of the whole of the British Fungi is embraced, it is true there are many difficulties in the way, for we find some plants closely approaching the algæ and others the lichens; but when it is only the larger fungi that it is proposed to discriminate, the task is much easier, the number being limited to about twelve hundred species. If the orders Agaricini and Polyporei 

(including more than eight of the twelve hundred species) are taken as a rough type of the larger fungi, it will be seen that these plants consist principally of a stem and cap. Unlike the flowering plant, the mushroom has no root; but, in place of it, the mycelium, or spawn, from which the fungus springs. Under the top are certain gills or plates, tubes, pores or spines, that bear the spores (or seeds). These spores are distinguished from true seeds by having no embryo, a spore consisting simply of a two-coated cell with no trace of an embryo. These spores are microscopic objects of various forms, sizes, and colours, the produce of one plant reaching, it is said, the enormous number of ten millions; when they fall upon the earth, or any suitable matrix, they germinate and form the spawn which eventually produces an infant fungus, the exact counterpart of the original producer of the spores.

We have but one species popularly recognized as esculent—viz., the common meadow mushroom (Agaricus campestris). A very near ally of the “meadow mushroom,” and a most delicious species when fresh,—viz., the so-called “horse mushroom” (Agaricus arvensis)—is nearly always rejected by country-folks as dangerous. This large and wholesome species is the one commonly sold in Covent Garden Market as the true mushroom, where, if fresh specimens can be procured, it is a welcome addition to the table. The fairy-ring Champignon (certainly one of the most exquisitely delicious of all our fungi) is generally neglected, or regarded with great suspicion. Under the name of “champillion,” however, it is well known to the weavers and labouring men of the east of London, who may be seen gathering it in considerable numbers any autumn day amongst the short grass of Victoria Park. The fragrant and luscious “Chantarelle,” the “rare Morel,” and the sweet and tender giant puff-ball, are almost universally kicked aside or altogether neglected. Amongst the species supposed to be popular is Agaricus personatus, said to be sold in Covent Garden Market. I have never seen it there, or heard of its presence. In the West of England and some other places I have heard these plants called “Blue-its” (Blewits), in reference to the blue colour round the upper part of the stem. It is a most substantial and delicious species, and should be better known; but I imagine it is rather uncommon, as I have seldom gathered 


it; although till quite lately it grew near Highbury Barn. The St. George’s mushroom, springing up on our lawns and pastures in spring (Agaricus gambosus), is little known, and very seldom eaten. Closely allied to the A. personatus, it is, if possible, more delicious, and may be easily dried for winter use. The semi-popular scaly mushroom, Agaricus procerus (except to fungologists), is known to very few, but its esculent properties are of a very high order, and it has the merit of being common. It is said to be sometimes sold in Covent Garden Market, but I have never seen it there, neither do I know anyone who has. With the truffle, the list must close of such fungi as are now and then eaten on exceptional occasions, or may be imperfectly known to a few who have not studied the subject. This species appears in our markets in limited quantities (there being very little demand for it), and realizes from 2s. 6d. to 5s. per pound. The statement that they fetch from 15s. to 20s. per pound in the London markets is, I believe, incorrect. It must also be remembered that our English truffles do not belong to the same species as the delicious truffles sold in the French markets.

There is no other way of distinguishing a poisonous from an edible fungus than by finding out its name; there is no magic way of saving the trouble of learning, by the insertion of a silver spoon in a stew. If, on tasting a fungus, it burns the tongue like the contact of scalding water (as several species do), the probability is that it 


is not edible; but if, on the contrary, a species exhales a delicious and inviting fragrance resembling fruit, spice, or new flour, it is probably worth a trial, and, even if not figured on the “Edible Sheet,” may be cautiously tried for the table if so desired.

An important character to be observed in fungi is the presence of a volva, or matrix, at the base of the stem (present in figs. 7 and 8, absent in figs. 11 and 12, Poisonous Sheet), and in the annulus, or ring, round the stem towards the top (present in figs. 1 and 7, absent in figs. 14 and 15, Poisonous Sheet). In the determination of species a great deal depends, too, upon the colour of the spores, or seeds. These are readily obtained by removing the stalk of the species to be examined, and placing the top gills lowermost on a piece of glass. In a few hours the spores will be deposited in a thick dust, and will vary (according to the species) from pure white to pink, yellow, red, brown, purple, or jet black. The gills often take their colours from the spores. It is a very great mistake to imagine that the “Sudden Mushroom” grows in a single night. The growth of mushrooms takes a considerable time—often many weeks. The young fungi exist just beneath or upon the surface of the earth in a compressed and narrowed compass. It is during this period that all the cells are formed, and the mushroom itself fashioned; but, being in a squeezed and concentrated form, it is commonly overlooked. On the advent of a wet or humid night, the cells forming the fungus are expanded and 


stretched out, and the mushroom is consequently thrust considerably above the surface of the pasture; but, although it is much larger in size, it is no heavier, neither has the substance itself considerably increased. Mushrooms can be artificially propagated from the seeds or spores, but not, generally, during the first season of setting. I have frequently grown the fragile and deliquescent species common on manure from the seeds; but, even when the spawn is once formed, it is often many weeks before the little heads are developed into the true figure of the parents, even in the inky, fugitive and deliquescent species. Coprinus atramentarius can be readily grown from spores; if planted about rotten wood in the autumn, the fungi will appear in the late spring, and give two crops a year till the soil is exhausted. I have exhibited a cultivated variety of this species at the meetings of the Royal Horticultural Society.

I have not thought it necessary to repeat long descriptions of how the various species may, or may not, be cooked; it has been done to a great extent before. It is apparent that the addition of “good beef gravy,” “a few slices of fowl,” “rich veal stuffing,” and various other savoury condiments, must occasionally give an extra zest to a dish of mushrooms; but broiled, stewed, or pickled, most species are “always good alike”; indeed, mushrooms, in their whole composition, resemble meat in so remarkable a manner, that any methods of cookery in vogue for delicate preparations of meat, apply with equal force 


to mushrooms. Mrs. Hussey and Mr. Cooke each give a large number of récipés for preparing these vegetables for the table; and to any reader who may wish to go deeper into the culinary branch of fungology, I must refer them to these authors. I must confess that I consider no preparation of mushrooms can exceed the delicious, inviting, and grateful flavour possessed by mushrooms when simply fried with butter, salt, and pepper.

The various species suitable for storing up for future use—such as the Morel, Champignon, &c.—may be readily dried in a current of air, in a sunny window, or in a cool oven, and then kept in tins, or threaded on strings and kept in a very dry place. Occasionally this process goes a step further, and the mushrooms (of any species) are dried to such an extent as to be readily pulverized; the dust is then known and sold as “mushroom powder.” Housewives will now and then pickle mushrooms, by throwing them into scalding vinegar, allowing them to boil for ten minutes or so, and then, by adding cayenne, mace, nutmeg, or spices, adapt them to their various tastes.

The liquor extracted from the various edible mushrooms, under the name of “ketchup,” is used in every kitchen, and the mode of preparation is probably known to all. It simply consists of placing the freshly-gathered plants in earthen jars with layers of salt; after a few hours the ketchup exudes in abundance from the fungi; and the process is ultimately completed by mashing the remains of the mushrooms with the hands. It should then be strained and boiled with spice and 


pepper, or strained and bottled, and the corked and scaled bottles placed for several hours in boiling water. The ketchup should then be kept in a cool and very dry place.

Nearly every species figured on the Edible Sheet will produce ketchup of good quality, if treated with salt in an earthen jar. The Champignon and Horse Mushroom may be specially referred to as producing this condiment of an excellent quality.

The juice exuded from the truffle in boiling is highly relished by many, as is the deep blood-red juice that runs from the “liver fungus” when cut. This, when seasoned with salt and pepper, and boiled, has a very delicious and stimulating flavour.

Since these notes and the following descriptions were written, my friend Mr. F. C. Penrose, architect, has sent me a list of twenty-eight species he has eaten, most of which are figured on the “Edible Sheet”; the other species mentioned by him and not figured on the sheet are referred to in the descriptions.

The nomenclature of the species is the same with that given by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley in his “Outlines of British Fungology”; the numbers inserted after the scientific name refer to my large drawings in the Food Department of the Bethnal Green Museum, where, if the student so desires, he may see dissections of the species.