“See how it sparkles, this drink divine,”
sings Giroflé, in Lecocq’s opera; and although the sparkling liquor therein is described in the text as “punch”—which does not sparkle much as a rule—I have no doubt whatever that what Lecocq, or his librettist7 meant, was the grateful liquid which is described in different circles of society as “fiz,” “Simpkin” (the nearest approach a Mahomedan table-servant can make to “champagne”), “a bottle,” “golden pop,” and “the Boy.”
Here let me interpolate the commonly-received {127} interpretation8 of the last-named title. At a shooting party, a stout9 urchin10 of some fifteen summers was specially11 told off to carry the liquid refreshment12 for the shooters, which took the form of Perrier Jou?t in magnums. And so frequent were the calls of “Boy!” that morning, that the youth threw up his situation before noon.
D’you believe it? Not a word of it? Same here. At least I never attended a “shoot” at which the gunners steadied their nerves by the aid of choice vintages—before luncheon13, at all events; and I don’t mean to begin now. Champagne was probably called “the Boy” because of its free, happy, joyous14, loose-and-careless char-ac-ter-is-tics. The sparkle represents youth, and the froth irresponsibility; whilst the whole?―― but never mind about the whole, just now.
The Champagne district, as some people know, lies on the chalk hills which surround the valley of the Marne. The townlets of Epernay, Ay, and Chateau Thierry owe their prosperity to these seductive wines, and Rheims has attained15 world-wide celebrity16, as much from being the centre of the champagne industry as from being the seat of the premier17 ecclesiastic18 of France, the Archbishop of Paris. So far, guide-book.
The champagne-vines are short and stunted19, the grapes being small, but most prolific20 of juice. A third, and even a fourth, crushing will yield a very delicious wine, to an uneducated palate; and this is the inferior liquor which is sold to tourists in Rheims at the equivalent of one shilling and fivepence per large bottle. It is a sweet—what {128} connoisseurs21 call a “lady’s” wine, which an expert would not taste a second time; and its aftermath, its effect on the imbiber23 the following day, is somewhat distressing24. Somehow, notwithstanding the import duties, champagne—I am alluding25 now to the superior brands—is almost as cheap in London as in the best hotels in Rheims; but the experiment of drinking it in the land of its birth is not as risky26 as on alien shores. At least so say the natives of the district, who maintain that although work in the cellars is not the pleasantest in the world—the strong smell, which is even intoxicating27, giving the workmen a distaste for the sparkling wine—it is quite possible for an outsider to drink a quantity of champagne of undoubted quality without feeling any bad after-effects.
“You may, in fact,” it was told me on the spot, “drink four bottles of Pommery ’84, and feel all the better for it next day.”
Possibly; but how about the inferior stuff which we used to sample, occasionally, in our salad days, when our green judgment28 led us to pass our early mornings in riotous29 junketings in the now staid and peaceful region of the Haymarket, S.W.? Much later than those days I have sampled alleged30 champagne—“extra sec,” it was called, though “extra sick” would have been more appropriate—on a race-course, in order to fitly celebrate some famous victory. But in my riper years, the victory (when it occurs) is honoured in more staid and seemly fashion. I was never nearer death by poison than one Friday morning in the ancient city of York, {129} after indulging somewhat freely in the “sparkling” proffered31 me on the previous day in a booth on Knavesmire. Do what I would—and I walked ten miles, went for a scull on the river Ouse, and then swallowed hot mustard-and-water—the distressing sensations, the great wave of depression which seemed to have swamped the heart, would not quit the body, until—and the idea came as a bolt from the blue—I had summoned up sufficient strength of mind to enter the coffee-room of the principal hotel, and demand a pint32 of Pommery. It was not a hair of the dog which had bitten me; the mangy brute33 from the attention of whose fangs34 I was suffering was no sort of relation to the highly-bred terrier who rooted out the anguish35 from my soul. And that small pint was so successful that another went the same way. And by that time I had been inspired with nerve enough to face a charging tiger, unarmed.
Many learned people, including one section of the medical profession, incline to the belief that consumption of champagne offers direct encouragement to gout. But there is no such idea amongst those employed in the cellars of Moet et Chandon, Geisler, Mum, Pommery, and other large firms. Not that these workmen are allowed to drink as much of their own foaming36 productions as they have a mind to. As a matter of fact the wine supplied to the ouvriers is the thin red stuff of the district, resembling inferior Burgundy, and not of a very elevating nature. It is not particularly attractive, this life of labour, for nine or ten hours a day, in a damp, cold {130} cellar some fifty yards below the level of the street pavements, with occasionally bottles bursting to right and left of you. These cellars are cut out of the calcareous rock, and were, many of them, inherited from the Romans; and champagne is such a sensitive, exacting37 sort of wine that it must be stored in the very bowels38 of the earth, where all is peace and quietude, and where neither motion nor vibration39 can reach the maturing vintages.
At least that is what they tell visitors; although the only time I have visited champagne cellars could hardly be called a peaceful experience, owing to the almost continuous bombardment of bursting bottles. And it is said that as a rule at least 10 per cent of the stored wine is wasted in this way; whilst in seasons of early and unusual heat the percentage may rise to as much as 20, and even 25.
Sparkling champagne—and we are not concerned with the still wine—is the result of a peculiar40 treatment during fermentation. During the winter months the wine is racked-off, and fined with isinglass; and in the early spring it is bottled and tightly corked41. In order to collect the sediment43 in the necks of the bottles these are placed at first in a sloping condition, with the corks44 downward, for a term. In the second year this sediment requires to be disgorged, or dégagé-ed. This feat45 can only be learnt by long practice, and even then there be workmen who cannot be safely trusted to shift the sediment, without shifting a too-large proportion of the wine itself. {131}
May I confess to the belief that I should never make a good, reliable, valuable disgorger?
Of course there is art, or knack46, in it. The degager takes a bottle, cuts the string of the cork42, expels the sediment—occasionally without spilling more than a drop or two—and passes the bottle to his neighbour, who fills it up with a liqueur, composed of sugar-candy dissolved in cognac, and flavoured, and with some bright, clarified wine. The bottle is then recorked, by machinery47, wired, labelled, and sent about its business.
The fermentation being incomplete at the first bottling of the wine, the carbonic acid gas generated in a confined space—this part comes unadorned, out of a book—exerts pressure on itself, and it thus remains48 as a liquid in the wine. When this pressure is removed it expands into gas, and thus communicates the sparkling property to champagne. Hence the bombardments.
How do I know all this? I once paid a visit to the cellars of Pommery et Cie.?; and my dearest friend asked sub-se-quent-ly what sort of writ49 of ejectment had to be drawn50 up to rid them of my presence and thirst. But all joking apart the time was well spent, and the industry is deserving of all the encouragement which it receives. The head cellarman is, literally51 a host in himself, an old gentleman of aristocratic mien52, and portly—or, rather, champagne-ly—presence; and one of the formulae to be gone through before quitting the premises53 is to drink a glass of the very best with that charming old gentleman, who I hope still flourishes amid his bottles and his {132} disgorgers. And when it is added that there are usually upwards54 of 15,000,000 bottles in the cellars at one time, the old heresy55 as to the district being unable to supply sufficient wine save for Russian consumption is at once exploded.
In fact some twenty-five millions of gallons of champagne are produced, annually56, in the district. Of course not all of it is of the finest growth, and some of it a connoisseur22 would reject with scorn. In order to smash another old fallacy it is, perhaps, hardly necessary to add that champagne is not made from gooseberries—at all events in countries where grapes grow. And the reason for this is that gooseberry juice is far scarcer, and therefore more expensive than grape juice. Some few dozens may be made in England, but to make sufficient gooseberry champagne to be profitable would require more berries than are grown in the country. It would, in fact, require hundreds of tons of the fruit to pay the man-u-fac-turer.
Lest my readers should be wearied of the subject of French wines, I shall not particularize as to the burgundies, but confine myself to the clarets of the country which are by far the more popular wines in England—even when they are artificially man-u-fac-tured, in Spain, and elsewhere.
“The wines that be made in Bordeaux,” wrote Gervase Markham, in the middle of the seventeenth century, “are called Gascoyne wines, and you shall know them by their hazel hoopes, and the most be full gadge, and sound wines.”
Evidently adulteration’s artful aid was but little employed in those days. {133}
“See that in your choice of Gascoine wines,” continues Gervase, in his minute direction to the overwrought “housewife,” “that your Clarret wines be faire coloured, and bright as a Rubie, not deepe as an Ametist; for though it may shew strength, yet it wants neatnesse. If your Clarret wine be faint, and have lost his color, then take a fresh hogshead with his fresh lees which was very good wine, and draw your wine into the same, then stop it close and tight, and lay it a foretake for two or three daies that the lees may run through it, then lay it up till it be fine, and if the colour be not perfit, draw it into a red wine hogshead . . . and if your Clarret wine have lost his colour, take a pennyworth of Damsens?――” ha! what is this?
“Or else blacke Bullesses, as you see cause, and stew57 them with some red wine of the deepest colour, and make thereof a pound or more of sirrup, and put it into a cleane glasse, and after into the hogshead of Clarret wine; and the same you may likewise doe unto red wine if you please.”
Ahem?! Evidently they did know something about adulteration in the seventeenth century.
It is a common idea that only a very few clarets are entitled to the prefix58 “Chateau.” The truth is very different. The district on the south bank of the Gironde simply teems59 with chateaux, of a kind. For miles you cannot go a few hundred yards in any direction without seeing or passing two or three; each with its vineyards and cellars and special labels, and more or less unblemished reputation. There is Chateau {134} Latour, and there is (or may be) the Chateau Smith. Did I choose to buy a cottage in that district, grow my own grapes, and make my own wines, I should be fully60 entitled to label them “Chateau Gubbins,” and incur61 no penalty by so doing.
But please do not pick the ripe grapes, although you may be sorely tempted62 by the sight of dozens of bunches separated from the vines by their sheer weight, and lying in the furrows63. Plenty of people do commit this sort of theft, for there be hundreds of the rough element who visit the Médoc country. The “Hooligans” and gamins of Bordeaux drift here at picking-time just as the poor of London drift into the county of Kent during the hopping64 season. They are not loved, but they have to be endured. Somebody must pick the grapes, and after all a few depredations65 will not ruin the grower any more than do the strawberry-pickers in the south of England “break” the growers, by adopting their usual plan: “three in the mouth, one in the basket.”
The claret-cellars are not nearly as far beneath the earth as are those in the region about Rheims. Nor are they as amusing. There is no “pop, pop” down here, no danger of wounds and lacerations from flying splinters of glass. The principal objects of interest are the cobwebs which are piled up all over the place like dusky curtains. It is not well to sample too many glasses which may be offered you of the wine of the country. For the samples are taken from the new, immature67 wine, and are suggestive of {135} pains and disturbances68 below the belt. The head cellarman, portly and urbane69 like his brother of Rheims, will watch your face closely as you taste his novelties, and will invariably ask your opinion of it. But the wise visitor will not be too opinionative on the subject. I have noticed that the man who says the least is accounted the most knowing, whether he be inspecting the contents of a cellar, or of a stable. And believe me, there is as much rubbish talked about wine as about horses. Still, in sampling new champagne you may praise indiscriminately, without being accounted an absolute dunce; whilst with claret it is altogether different. The wine varies exceedingly with the vintage; and none but an expert and accomplished70 palate may dare to say what is good, what is bad, and what is mediocre71.
Is it necessary to state that claret was not drunk, on ordinary occasions, by the Ancient Britons? I trow not. And I fancy the wines of the noble old Romans partook more of the nature of burgundies than clarets. In England the wines of Médoc have never been fully appreciated until during the latter half of the present century, when the taste for port began to die out, with the good port itself. And as I writhe72, occasionally, in the throes of gout, I bethink me of the merciless law delivered unto Moses, which provides that the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon their descendants, even unto the third and fourth generation. For the good old three-and-four-bottle men of eighty years ago, and farther back than that, certainly laid {136} the foundations for much of the trouble at this end of the century. Still there be doctors who actually recommend port wine as a gout-fuge. And it is certainly safer to drink a little good port—matured in the wood, and innocent of beeswing—an you be a podagric subject, than some of the clarets which, thanks to the enterprise of the late Mr. W. E. Gladstone, are within the reach of the slenderest purse.
Do not smoke whilst drinking claret, or port, either. Nothing destroys the flavour of red wine so effectually as the flavour of a cigar.
One of the greatest “sells” ever experienced by an expectant party of claret judges—of whom I posed as one—was after this fashion. Our host had inherited a pipe of Chateau Lafitte ’64, which had been duly bottled off. We had enjoyed a nice plain little dinner—a bit of crimped cod73, a steak, and a bird—in order the better to taste the luscious74 wine. After dinner bottle number one made its appearance; and as they sipped75, and prepared to sing hymns76 of praise, the jaws77 of the guests fell. And a great cry uprose: “Pricked?!”
CHAPTER: XIII THE OLD WINES AND THE NEW
Decline and fall of port — Old topers — A youthful wine-bibber — The whisky age succeeds the port age — “Jeropiga” — Landladies78’ port — A monopoly — Port v. gout — A quaint79 breakfast in Reading — About nightcaps — Sherry an absolutely pure wine — Except when made within the four miles’ radius80 — Treading the grapes — “Yeso” — Pliny pops up again — “Lime in the sack” — What the Lancet says — “Old Sherry” — Faux pas of a General — About vintages.
On the decline and fall of port wine volumes might be written. At the same time I am not the man who is going to write them. According to early recollections, the conversation of my elders was limited to hunting, racing81, and the wines of Oporto. The man who had “?’20,” or “Comet,” port in his cellars was a man to be cultivated, and dined with; whilst “?’34” and “?’47” men were next in demand. And this was after the era of the three-and-four-bottle heroes, of whose deeds I have heard my father speak, almost with bated breath; how, after the retirement82 of the ladies, to discuss tea and scandal by themselves, the dining-room door would be locked by the host himself, who would {138} pocket the key thereof. Many of the guests slept where they fell, “repugnant to command,” like the sword of Pyrrhus, whilst others would be fastened in the interior of their chariots at a later hour. Even in the late fifties, the estimable divine with whom I was studying the beauties of the classics, would on the frequent occasion of a dinner-party provide one bottle of port per head, for his guests, in addition to hock, champagne, and sherry; and the writer, then a boy of fifteen, was included amongst the “heads.”
But as the stone age succeeded the ice age, as the iron age succeeded the stone age, and as the gold age, and the railway age, and the rotten company age succeeded the iron age, so have the whisky age, and the “small bottle” age, and the gin-and-bitters age almost wiped out the age when man drank, talked, and thought port. Our ancestors were im-mod-er-ate in their potations but, as far as wine went, these were but rarely indulged in until after sundown, although the Briton would frequently wash his breakfast down with ale of the strongest. And it is difficult to believe that the evil habit of “nipping,” at all hours of the day, which now prevails in some circles—a habit which is mainly due to the break-neck pace at which life is pursued—is either more conducive83 to health or intellectuality, or morality than the after-dinner debauch84 of a century ago.
The “hot and heady” wine is (or, rather, was) produced chiefly in a mountainous district of Portugal called Cima de Douro. The wine is largely mixed with spirit even during {139} fermentation, the proper colour being given by a mixture known as jeropiga, which is a preparation of elder-berries, molasses, raisin85 juice, and spirit.
The wine which is made within the Metropolitan86 Police District, for the special benefit of landladies, infirmaries, and she-choristers, is also treated with a similar mixture, with the addition of a little logwood-extract; but in fashionable quarters the mixture is not known as jeropiga, a name which would probably affect the sale.
Port wine was known in England before the year 1700, but was not in much demand. From the year mentioned till 1826 the export trade was a monopoly in the hands of English merchants. The effect of this monopoly was to increase the price in England, and to gradually deteriorate87 the quality. Exports from Oporto have decreased in a marked way for the last forty years or so; and although there is still some demand, and some decent wine left, the “hot and heady” concoction88 whether dry or fruity, a lady’s wine, or a military ditto, is gradually leaving us.
The pity of it?! And si-mul-ta-ne-ous-ly with its de-par-ture comes the pro-nounce-ment of the medical pro-fes-sion that port (with the exception of the “old crusted” brand) does not encourage gout to abide89 within the human frame. I may fairly claim to have been a “port man” all my life, and never, when serving Her Majesty90, overlooked my orthodox allowance of the “black strap” purchased with the Prince Regent’s allowance. Nev-er-the-less I am not going to recommend this description of wine as an ideal breakfast drink; although very early in {140} life I once made trial of it at nine o’clock one morning.
This was in the good town of Reading, in company with a schoolmate or two. We were on our way home for the holidays, and had been entrusted91, for the first part of the journey, to the care of the French master. Him we had evaded92 for the time being—he was much interested in the man-u-fac-ture of sweet biscuits—and marching boldly into the best inn’s best room, we demanded bread and cheese and a bottle of the most expensive port on the wine-list. Schoolboy-like our fancy turned to quaintness93 in the matter of meals; and I am bound to add that the state of our health was not one whit94 improved by this weird95 breakfast. As for the French master, no sooner had he run us to earth, than?―― but that part of the story is too painful to tell.
One of the oldest winter beverages96 known to civilization is
Bishop1,
a composition of port wine and spices of which it has been written:—
Three cups of this a prudent97 man may take;
The first of these for constitution’s sake,
The second to the girl he loves the best,
The third and last to lull98 him to his rest.
And an effectual luller is this Bishop.
Make several incisions99 in the rind of a lemon, stick cloves100 in the incisions, and roast the lemon at a slow fire. Put small but equal quantities of {141} cinnamon, cloves, mace101, and all-spice into a saucepan, with half a pint of water; let it boil until reduced one-half. Boil one bottle of port wine; burn a portion of the spirit out of it by applying a lighted paper to the saucepan. Put the roasted lemon and spice into the wine, stir it well, and let it stand near the fire ten minutes. Rub a few lumps of sugar on the rind of a lemon, put the sugar into a bowl with the juice of half a lemon (not roasted), pour the wine into it, grate some nutmeg into it, sweeten to taste, and serve with the lemon and spices floating on the surface.
To sum up, the decline and fall of port in British estimation may be said to be due, mainly, to the following causes: inferiority of most of the modern vintages, the introduction of whisky, the present taste for lighter102 wines, such as the cheaper clarets and burgundies, with the wines of Germany and Italy, and a sort of “boom” in wines from Australia and California. These last-named, however, are but seldom seen at the tables of the wealthy; and thus far the demand for the productions of gallant103 little Wales have not been in any great request, although the demand is said to be equal to the supply.
Sherry, the “sack” which was said to cheer the heart of Sir John Falstaff and other of Shakespeare’s heroes, is, like port, a light of other days. Like the wine of Portugal, also, its exportation has for many years been in the hands of English settlers. The following startling statistics have been published about these exports, which statistics speak for themselves: The output to England in 1891 was 2,135,969 gallons, or sixty-four per cent {142} less than in 1873, which was the “record” sherry year. And although many efforts have been made to stem the ebb104, the last seven years have shewn a steady decrease in the exports.
Yet, according to the best authorities, sherry is not only the purest, but the most wholesome105 of all wines. Of course, in making this statement the wine of Spain, the vino de Jerez is implied, and not the home-made productions for the malefit of those who study economy without due regard to digestion106. Strictly107 speaking, sherry means Jerez (pronounced “herreth”) wine. But Manzanilla, a wine which is made at St. Lucas, and Montilla which comes from a town south of Cordova, may come under the same category. And with a view of shewing the wholesomeness108 of sherry it is stated, by no less an authority than the Lancet, that it is the only wine enjoined109 in the preparations of the wines of the British Pharmacop?ia, with two exceptions—viz. vinum ferri citratis, and vinum quininae, which are made with orange wine. Therefore it is certain that the sufferer from gout, for whom vinum colchici is prescribed, may swallow a proportion of the juice of the grape, and, possibly, a hair of the dog which bit him. This naturally recalls the old story of the sherry which was sent to a former Lord Chesterfield as a panacea110 for his ailment111, and the curt66 reply sent: “Sir, I have tried your sherry, and prefer the gout.”
There are several types of sherries, according to the different characters developed. These are known by several distinguishing terms {143} comprehending the characters and specific qualities of the wine from one end to the other of a scale ranging from delicate and light wines to rich, generous, and dark-coloured wines. Between a straw-coloured Vino de Pasto and the very fine Old East India Brown—the sherry which two decades ago was in enormous demand at such old-fashioned hostelries as the “Rainbow” in Fleet Street, ere the reign112 of gin-and-bitters—there is a vast difference, both in colour and flavour. Broadly, however, sherry may be divided into two classes—fino, a light-coloured, delicate light wine of the Amontillado type, and the oloroso, a full-bodied, highly-developed wine.
The sherry grapes are collected and placed in large panniers on the backs of mules113 and conveyed to the press-houses. The press is of very primitive114 construction, and is identical with those used in ancient history. It consists simply of a wooden trough about ten feet square, provided in the centre with a screw press, which is used after the treading by foot power is done, to get the last drop of juice out of the crushed mass. Rather less than a ton of grapes serves for one pressing, and the idea that this is done with the naked feet of the Spanish peasantry is a popular error. Sherry is not kneaded like German bread. Men clad in light clothing and shod with wooden clogs115, with nails on the soles and heels, pointing in a slanting117 direction, proceed to tread the grapes in a most methodical manner, proceeding118 row by row, each row being of the width of the nailed sole of the clog116.
After the grapes have been trodden over for {144} the first time, i.e. partly crushed and bruised119, a measured quantity of sulphate of lime (Yeso) is sprinkled over the sticky mass—now I have gone so far perhaps ’twould be as well to complete the narrative120, although it is not always wise to enquire121 too closely into the interior economy of wine presses, or kitchens. This sulphate of lime is a pure native earth, found in the neigh-bour-hood of Jerez, and is burnt before being mixed with the grapes. How many sherry drinkers, I wonder, know how largely mother earth enters into their pet tipple122? The idea, certainly, does not seem a nice one, but this mixing of lime with sherry is a very ancient custom indeed.
Pliny—where should we modern bookmakers be without dear old Pliny?—mentions the custom as an ancient African one. And in days of yore it must be remembered that Africa was not entirely123 populated by cannibals and dervishes, but was the home of many who lived wisely and well.
“There’s lime in the sack!” is a sentence put into the mouth of Falstaff. In modern days the process has become known as “plastering,” from the fact that plaster-of-Paris consists principally of sulphate of lime or burnt gypsum.
“It is interesting,” says the Lancet, “to surmise124 the origin of this very ancient custom. That it had some intelligent basis admits of no doubt. Some think that it had its origin in the fact being noticed that when the grape juice was fermented125 in alabaster126 vessels127 or in marble tanks the wine was better, it clarified quicker, and {145} developed character more sat-is-fac-tor-i-ly. Others regard the addition of sulphate of lime as convenient from a mechanical point of view during the pressing; it was necessary when the grapes were wetter than usual in order to bind128 the residuary mass together. We do not incline to this view.”
As the Lancet devotes a considerable space to the exposition of the view to which it does incline I may be excused from quoting it in full—more especially as there be tables of percentages, and complicated mathematical calculations in said exposition. But it is proved to the satisfaction of the Lancet that “lime in the sack” is matter in the right place. And although to an uneducated mind lime suggests such terrifying developments of tarda podagra as chalk-stones, possibly the action of the grapes on the lime renders it innocuous.
It is a curious fact that sherry in keeping develops a slight increase of alcohol as the time advances. All spirit added to sherry, however, is obtained from wine itself, corn-spirit in Spain being quite a superfluity, since wine-spirit can be produced so cheaply and in unlimited129 quantity. Moreover the importation of German spirit into Spain is made practically impossible by a prohibitive duty. Still, unless rumour130 lies, some Spanish wines receive the German spirit after exportation; so Spain “gets there just the same.”
Here is an item of news which should inspire confidence in the sceptic.
“Good brandy—i.e. a genuine wine-distilled {146} spirit—is being produced in Spain in commercial quantities which it is to be hoped will successfully compete with the stuff erroneously called brandy, not to say Cognac, but of which not a drop has been derived131 from the grape.”
In my researches into the man-u-fac-ture of port and sherry, I have come across no mention of the phylloxera. I am, therefore, halting between the beliefs, either that the Spaniards and Portuguese132 understand vermin better than do the French, or that the “vine-louse” has her own reasons for keeping out of Spain and Portugal.
Forty years ago an estimable Irish nobleman was known as “Old Sherry,” from his partiality to that wine. And thirty years ago I was once seated at the table of a General of Division, up at Simla. My right-hand neighbour was a son of this same nobleman, but our host, apparently133, did not know this—or had forgotten the fact. At all events, during a lull in the conversation, the General (who had a voice like sharpening a saw) rapped out: “By the way, Captains—you say you’ve been quartered in Ireland—did you ever meet ‘Old Sherry’ there?”
A subaltern can’t very well throw a dinner-roll at a General or stick a carving-fork into his leg; but that is what I, personally, felt like doing.
In medi?val times a sufficient quantity of wine for the needs of the inhabitants was made in gallant little Wales; and the idea of reviving the industry occurred to the Marquis of Bute, who has done so much for the welfare of Cardiff {147} and the neigh-bour-hood. The vineyards are on the site of the old ones, facing south, and the vines were planted twenty years ago, and are very hardy134. There is no reason why they should not be propagated to almost any extent, and there is abundant scope for the extension of the vineyards and a proportionate increase in the yield of wine.
The vintages of 1885, 1890, and 1891 are marked in Messrs. Hatch, Mansfield and Co.’s list as “All sold,” and although the vintage of ’98, owing to the long spell of dry weather, does not promise particularly well, the Marquis is no more unfortunate in this respect than most other vine-growers.
Vintages.
As my readers may not all be connoisseurs in the matter of wines, a few words on the subject of vintages may be appropriate, at the close of this chapter.
With regard to cham-pagnes, the good years are ’65, ’68, ’74 (especially good), ’78, ’80, ’84, ’85, ’87 (some-what light in body), ’89, ’92, and ’93. All the other vin-tages since ’65 have turned out more or less badly; and there have been no good vin-tages since ’93.
One of the largest and best vintages of claret on record is that of ’75, which ranks with the older ones of ’48, ’58, and ’64. ’77 is fair, and between that year and ’88 there was no vintage of particular merit. ’93 wine is good, and this year furnished the largest yield since ’75. ’94 wine is exceptionally bad. During the five years {148} from ’82 to ’86 the merits of the wines were completely destroyed by mildew135.
The burgundy vintages have been good since ’84. As for ports, the drinkable wines (since ’34) are those of ’41, ’47 (one of the finest wines ever known), ’51 (exceptionally good), ’52, ’53 (fine and fruity), ’54, ’58, ’63, ’68, ’70, ’72, ’75, ’78 (exceptionally fine), ’81, ’84, ’87 (the best since ’78), and ’96 which “shews promise.” The worst years are ’55, ’56, ’57, ’59, ’64, ’66, ’69, ’71, ’74, ’76, ’77, ’79, ’80, ’82, ’83, ’86, ’88, ’91, ’93 (exceptionally bad), ’94, and ’95.
The above statistics are also from Messrs. Hatch, Mansfield and Co.’s list.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
dire
|
|
| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
canine
|
|
| adj.犬的，犬科的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
chronic
|
|
| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
champagne
|
|
| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
chateau
|
|
| n.城堡，别墅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
librettist
|
|
| n.(歌剧、音乐剧等的)歌词作者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
interpretation
|
|
| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
urchin
|
|
| n.顽童；海胆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
refreshment
|
|
| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
luncheon
|
|
| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
attained
|
|
| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
celebrity
|
|
| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
premier
|
|
| adj.首要的；n.总理，首相 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
ecclesiastic
|
|
| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
stunted
|
|
| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
prolific
|
|
| adj.丰富的，大量的；多产的，富有创造力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
connoisseurs
|
|
| n.鉴赏家，鉴定家，行家( connoisseur的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
connoisseur
|
|
| n.鉴赏家，行家，内行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
imbiber
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
distressing
|
|
| a.使人痛苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
alluding
|
|
| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
risky
|
|
| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
intoxicating
|
|
| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
riotous
|
|
| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
alleged
|
|
| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
proffered
|
|
| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
pint
|
|
| n.品脱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
fangs
|
|
| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
foaming
|
|
| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
exacting
|
|
| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
bowels
|
|
| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
vibration
|
|
| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
corked
|
|
| adj.带木塞气味的，塞着瓶塞的v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
cork
|
|
| n.软木，软木塞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
sediment
|
|
| n.沉淀，沉渣，沉积(物) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
corks
|
|
| n.脐梅衣；软木( cork的名词复数 )；软木塞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
feat
|
|
| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
knack
|
|
| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
machinery
|
|
| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
writ
|
|
| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
literally
|
|
| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
mien
|
|
| n.风采；态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
premises
|
|
| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
heresy
|
|
| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
annually
|
|
| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
stew
|
|
| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
prefix
|
|
| n.前缀；vt.加…作为前缀；置于前面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
teems
|
|
| v.充满( teem的第三人称单数 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
incur
|
|
| vt.招致，蒙受，遭遇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
furrows
|
|
| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
hopping
|
|
| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
depredations
|
|
| n.劫掠，毁坏( depredation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
curt
|
|
| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
immature
|
|
| adj.未成熟的，发育未全的，未充分发展的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
disturbances
|
|
| n.骚乱( disturbance的名词复数 )；打扰；困扰；障碍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
urbane
|
|
| adj.温文尔雅的，懂礼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
mediocre
|
|
| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
writhe
|
|
| vt.挣扎，痛苦地扭曲；vi.扭曲，翻腾，受苦；n.翻腾，苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
cod
|
|
| n.鳕鱼；v.愚弄；哄骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
luscious
|
|
| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
hymns
|
|
| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
jaws
|
|
| n.口部；嘴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
landladies
|
|
| n.女房东，女店主，女地主( landlady的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
radius
|
|
| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
retirement
|
|
| n.退休，退职 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
conducive
|
|
| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
debauch
|
|
| v.使堕落，放纵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
raisin
|
|
| n.葡萄干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
metropolitan
|
|
| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
deteriorate
|
|
| v.变坏；恶化；退化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
concoction
|
|
| n.调配(物)；谎言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
abide
|
|
| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
evaded
|
|
| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
quaintness
|
|
| n.离奇有趣，古怪的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
whit
|
|
| n.一点，丝毫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
beverages
|
|
| n.饮料( beverage的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
lull
|
|
| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
incisions
|
|
| n.切开，切口( incision的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
cloves
|
|
| n.丁香（热带树木的干花，形似小钉子，用作调味品，尤用作甜食的香料）( clove的名词复数 )；蒜瓣(a garlic ~|a ~of garlic) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
mace
|
|
| n.狼牙棒，豆蔻干皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
gallant
|
|
| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
ebb
|
|
| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
wholesome
|
|
| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
digestion
|
|
| n.消化，吸收 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
strictly
|
|
| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
wholesomeness
|
|
| 卫生性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
109
enjoined
|
|
| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
panacea
|
|
| n.万灵药；治百病的灵药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
ailment
|
|
| n.疾病，小病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
reign
|
|
| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
mules
|
|
| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
primitive
|
|
| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
clogs
|
|
| 木屐； 木底鞋，木屐( clog的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
clog
|
|
| vt.塞满，阻塞；n.[常pl.]木屐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
slanting
|
|
| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
bruised
|
|
| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
narrative
|
|
| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
enquire
|
|
| v.打听，询问；调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
tipple
|
|
| n.常喝的酒；v.不断喝，饮烈酒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
surmise
|
|
| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
fermented
|
|
| v.（使）发酵( ferment的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
alabaster
|
|
| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
vessels
|
|
| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
unlimited
|
|
| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
derived
|
|
| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
Portuguese
|
|
| n.葡萄牙人；葡萄牙语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
hardy
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
mildew
|
|
| n.发霉；v.（使）发霉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |