The return journey in those days (now there is a railway) was by boat, down the Douro, seventy miles, which was accomplished in one long day. Hour after hour we glide down the rapid current, through green vineyards, all resonant with the long-drawn songs of the vintagers. Now the cliffs close in, and we pass through a gorge, whose sides rise a thousand feet sheer from the water, overgrown with masses of broom, heath, gorse, and a variety of evergreen shrubs wherever a ledge or cranny afford hold for their roots. Gigantic aloes with broad spiked blades and towering stalks stud the rocky declivities, and the cactus, wild fig, and other sub-tropical forms of plant-life lend character to the scenery. Amidst these crags a pair or two of the handsome black and white Neophrons may generally be seen.
Dangerous during times of flood are the snag-set rapids of the Douro, as many a little cross or inscription, cut on the impending rocks, bears witness. That rude mark indicates the spot where some poor fellow has lost his life, perhaps a whole boat's crew; and our men, as we pass each memorial tablet, remove their hats and cross themselves with simple piety.
At intervals we pass picturesque cargo-boats, upward bound, and laboriously making their way against the current, motive power being supplied by a gang of watermen hauling on a tow-rope ashore. Where the path becomes precipitous, one sees the string of bare-legged men walking, as it were, down perpendicular rock faces like flies on a wall, each hanging on by the sustaining rope. As already mentioned, there is now-a-days a railway to the Upper Douro, and much of the picturesque river life of twenty years ago is a thing of the past.
Spain.—The Vintage in Andalucia—(Continued).
But we have wandered far from our original subject, and must now leave Portugal, and return to the Andalucian vintage. We are not going to enter into the technical details of wine manufacture, which have been fully described in special treatises; suffice it here to say that from the wine-press, the must (or juice) is run direct into casks placed beneath, and in which, almost as soon as made, the process of fermentation begins. In this state the young wines are removed on bullock-carts to the bodegas of Jerez, or San Lucar, and there remain till January, when fermentation is complete; the wine is then placed in clean casks, and so left to mature. The contents of each cask, however, are kept distinct and separate—that is the wine-juice that ran from the lagar into one cask is not mixed or blended with another.
And now follows one of the most curious circumstances known in œnology. The wines thus made—the uniform produce, be it repeated, of a single vineyard, gathered the same day, pressed in the same lagar, and subjected to identical treatment—develope wholly different characters and qualities. Some of the casks prove to be wines of the highest grade and value; others indifferent, some coarse, and some even vinegar. Then amongst those casks which have developed into the wines styled in Jerez finos (i.e., soft, dry, and delicate, with a fresh, pungent flavour), there is found here and there one which has acquired the rare and highly valued amontillado character.
This singular inequality in development appears to be merely a matter of chance—of caprice in fermentation; and is quite inexplicable and uncontrolled by any known laws or causes. Some years ago an attempt was made to bring the light of modern science to bear on the old rule-of-thumb methods of "rearing" sherry. An English scientist of high standing essayed the task of assuring an approximately equal development of all the wines grown in one year and one vineyard. The result, however, was unsuccessful; or if an approximate level was attained it was, unfortunately, the level of mediocrity, or worse; the wines operated upon were destroyed, and the savant left Spain under a cloud.
Although the vine is almost ubiquitous throughout the south of Spain, and the production of wine practically unlimited, yet there are only two districts which yield the specific wine entitled sherry. These two districts are the amphitheatre of hills which surround the city of Jerez de la Frontera, and a small area of 1,500 acres in Montilla called Moriles. It must also be remembered that there are differences in the grape as well as in the soil. The vine has several distinct natural species, as distinguished from mere varieties (whether artificial or climatic), and the character of wine is largely dependent on the vine producing it. Vast quantities of wine are grown in adjacent districts, good genuine wines, sound and wholesome, but the two localities named stand out in marked prominence. The area of the choice vignobles around Jerez is some 12,000 acres, divisible into four classes according to geological formation.[63] The average yield of the fine vineyards being two and a half butts per acre, it follows that the total annual production of first-class sherry is some 35,000 butts, or thereabouts.
In addition to the above quantity, there are also grown, as above stated, large quantities of wine in the adjoining districts. These, though pure and genuine, are but of second rank. From what we have already written, it will be apparent that in this land of the vine (and the same remark applies to Portugal), there is nothing so cheap as the grape. There is therefore no temptation to seek substitutes for this, its commonest product, or to employ other materials in its place.