A Madeira Party Read online

much store they set by their good wineeven in those perilous days."

  "Take particular care of the red chest clampt with iron herewith sent,which contains some bonds and mortgages which I could not take out, thekey being lost; and also that you would be kind enough to let the twoquarter-casks of Madeira, painted green, be deposited in some safe placeunder lock and key in your cellar, if possible where you keep your ownliquors in a safe place, as I value them more than silver and gold inthese times of misfortune and distress."

  "Then he goes on to tell the news of Washington's victory at Trenton."

  "What a glimpse at the life of those days!" said Chestnut.

  During the chat the servant had placed before the host a half-dozenquart decanters filled with wine of various hues and depths of color.

  "And now for the wine! We have been losing time," exclaimed their host.

  As he spoke, the servant set on either side of the fire a brass-bound,painted bucket in which were a number of decanters--the reservereinforcements to be used if the main army gave out. Meanwhile thedesultory chat went on as the servant distributed the glasses. Thesewere arranged in rather an odd fashion. In the center of the table wasset a silver bowl of water. The notches in the rim received each thestem of an inverted glass. Before every guest a glass bowl, much like amodern finger-bowl, held also two wine-glasses. Thus there was to be aglass for each wine, or at need the means for rinsing a glass.

  The talk had been more entertaining to the younger men and their hostthan to Wilmington. He had come for the purpose of tasting wines, andwas somewhat annoyed at the delay.

  "Dined with Starling last week," he said. "Never was more insulted inmy life, sir. Had his after-dinner wine--all of it, sir--in pintdecanters!"

  "Not, really?" said Francis, with a seriousness by no means assumed."In pints! You are quite sure you are correct?"

  "Fact, sir."

  "I--!" exclaimed Chestnut. "Pardon me; but I fail to see the insult."

  "What! You, sir! Your father's son! Gentlemen do not serve wine inpints after dinner. They don't do it; and the wine was bad--sick,thick!"

  "Ah, I see. I have been long enough away to have forgotten many things.As to these wines you all discuss so critically, I have tasted some ofthem of late, and they seemed to me much alike."

  "Alike, sir! You surprise me," said Wilmington. "I pity you. What awaste of opportunities! But it is not too late to reform--to learn. Iknow one man who made a quite correct palate at the age of forty--not agentleman, either; and that 's rather remarkable."

  "And is that so rare?" cried Chestnut, much delighted.

  "Oh, very," said Francis.

  "I knew the man," returned Hamilton. "He died somewhat early. However,I have noticed that the acquisition of a taste for Madeira in middlelife is quite fatal to common people."

  "Is that so?" said Chestnut, greatly enjoying it all. "Upon my word, Istill have a dim memory of all this stuff about wine, as I used to hearit when a lad. I thought it had gone with other superstitions. To befrank, I have so little trust in the tales I hear every day afterdinner, about wine and wine-tasting, that--"

  "Pardon me," interrupted Wilmington. "Of course you can hear much thatis foolish; but to my mind the real facts are very often interesting."

  "Such as--?" asked Chestnut. "Pray tell me."

  "Hamilton will indorse this as an illustration. He was one of eightgentlemen--of whom three are nowhere--who were asked to give judgment oncertain wines. Each man wrote his opinion as to the value, age, andquality of each specimen, and folding over the paper passed it with thewine. Finally, Hamilton read aloud each statement. The estimated price,or value, of a demijohn--that is of five gallons--of each was given; theage, the character, the defects, and so on. The prices assigned to thegrape-juices varied much, because most of us cared for them but little.As to the Madeiras pure and simple, the conclusions as to value, age,and quality were so very much alike as even to surprise some of us."

  "It is, I suppose," said Chestnut, who began to take a more seriousinterest, "a matter of habit--acquired habit--and attention."

  "No," said Hamilton. "Far more is it a gift. Some women have itwonderfully."

  "But, after all," said Francis, "why should appreciative delicacy ofpalate amaze us more than sharpness of vision or delicacy of touch?"

  "Only because a fine taste is, of all forms of sensory acuteness, therarest," returned Hamilton. "It is still more uncommon to have a perfectmemory of taste, while odors are so easily remembered.

  "I have known certain persons in whom refined delicacy of palate wasaccompanied with an almost incredible remembrance of past impressions asto the taste of things. Our old friend Mr. C----, as we all know, couldrecall a particular coffee or tea he had tasted years ago; could saywhat wines had been by accident mixed in the Madeira he drank; and wasable to declare, as a test of his singular skill, in which of two cleanwine-glasses a boiled egg had been placed a day or two before."

  "It is interesting," said Chestnut; "but to me, if not incredible, it isat least made almost so by my own deficiencies."

  "Well, now, to reeducate you," said Hamilton, "let us exchange theoryfor practice." So saying, he put on his spectacles, and began to scanthe silver labels on his decanters, and to rearrange the order of therow of wines, so as to present them somewhat as opinions are given in acouncil of war--the least esteemed first. Meanwhile he said: "Wilmingtonlikes his wine cool. It is a grave question. I prefer it a trifleabove the temperature of the room. It insures a more perfectpresentation both of taste and smell. A little chill may cloud wine, orrepress its bouquet. We are all agreed that the wine should be at restin a warm room some days, or longer, before it is drunk. Nothingmellows a wine like that. And then one must be careful not to have wineshaken; that bruises it. But this is commonplace, Chestnut; I am merelygiving you a preliminary education. I think you will find theseMadeiras in good condition, carefully drawn and bright. I ought to addthat they are all drawn with the siphon, so as not to disturb the saltswhich crystallize on the sides of the demijohn, or the deposit everywine lets fall, as a good man drops his faults as he goes on in life."

  "Just a word before we take our wine," said Francis. "I saw Chestnutsmile at the idea of a wine being bruised. I can tell him a story aboutthat. We were dining at the Quoit Club, in Germantown, and were attable when Wilmington, who was in the habit of riding out to the club,arrived somewhat late. We came by and by to the Madeiras. I saw thegeneral taste a wine, as if in doubt. At last he looked up, and said:'Wilmington, this wine is bruised; you brought the bottle out in yourcoat-tail pocket--the left pocket.' We were soon convinced as to thewine having been thus shaken out of health; but his inference as to theleft pocket puzzled us all, until the general asked some one to standup, and to put a bottle in his own coat-tail pocket. Then the reason ofmy friend's conclusion became clear enough--however, I delay the wine."

  "Well, here it is," said Hamilton, filling his glass. Then he passedthe decanter to Wilmington, on his left, saying, "With the sun,gentlemen."

  "A fair grape-juice," said the latter; "but a trifle too warm."

  "And what," said Chestnut, "is a grape-juice? All wines are merelythat."

  "Oh, usually it is the product of the south side of the island,sometimes of one vineyard, but untreated by the addition of older wines;sweet, of course; apt to be pale. When a Madeira-drinker speaks of agrape-juice, that is what he means. But a Madeira--what we call simplya Madeira--is apt to be dry, and usually is the result of carefulblending of wines and some maturing by natural heat."

  "But in time," said Chestnut, "your grape-juice becomes a Madeira.Certainly this is delicious! How refined, how delicate it is!"

  "Ah, you will learn," cried Wilmington. "But wait a little. Agrape-juice never becomes what we denominate a Madeira."

  "I don't agree with you," said the host.

  "We are in very deep water now," laughed Francis. "I, myself, think thefinest of the old dry Madeiras w
ere once sugary maidens."

  "Nonsense," said Hamilton, passing the next wine. "With the sun."

  "Why with the sun?" said Chestnut, infinitely delighted by these littlesocial superstitions and the odd phrases.

  "Because it sours a wine to send it to the right," said Wilmington,dryly. "That is a fact, sir,--a well-known fact."

  "Droll, that," returned Chestnut. "I wonder whence came that notion."

  "It is a pretty old one; possibly Roman. The Greeks passed their drinkto the right.