Our guide explained that the cellar we had just visited was a modern one, only two hundred and sixty years old. The old cellar, he said, was made in the days when Poland was a kingdom, and more powerful by far than the now great Muscovite empire. I do not remember positively the age he gave it, but I think it was some nine hundred or a thousand years old. I was too busy looking among the bottles to take particular notice of what he said, and am not willing to trust too much to my memory, especially on the occasion of visiting a cellar like this. The real interest of the place began when we entered the locality where the bottles were stored. Here were little shelves—I say little, though many of them were three or four feet wide—covered with bottles, some standing upright, while others were carefully packed away. There was one shelf where the bottles had been lying undisturbed for twenty years; another where they had not been touched for thirty, another for forty, and another for fifty years. Above most of the shelves a date was chiselled into the rock, and the date, as I was told, indicated the time when the wine was bottled and placed there. These chiselled places were, however, comparatively few, as the most common designation was that of a date cut in a small piece of board which rested above the bottles.
OLD BOTTLES OF WINE.
In some places the dust of ages had almost obliterated the dates, but our guide seemed to know them all from recollection. I remember one date of 1750, another of 1634, and I believe there was one board dated somewhere about 1590. Shelves were pointed out which were said to contain wine that had not been moved or disturbed in any way for three hundred years. I do not vouch for the truth of the statement, but merely give it as I heard it.
It was interesting to observe how the dust and cobwebs had gathered about the bottles, and also to observe the shapes of the bottles. The more recent shapes were those familiar to all drinkers and friends of drinkers of the present day. Then there were short, thick-set bottles, while others were dumpy and very long in the neck, reminding one of an overfed goose or a camel suffering with the dropsy. Some of the earlier bottles indicated that the art of blowing glass was not well known at the time of their construction, as they were badly shaped, and frequently had deep indentations in their sides. Some of them could be called flasks, rather than bottles, as they had no necks at all, and were round at both ends. All the bottles that I examined were carefully sealed, and I was shown several bottles with long, tapering necks, that had been tightly closed by melting their ends in a flame after the wine had been placed inside, just as the tube of a thermometer is closed after it has been filled with quicksilver or alcohol. In order to get at the wine enclosed in this way, it is necessary to break away the top of the neck.
ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS A BOTTLE.
The cellar was perfectly dry, so that no moisture collected anywhere. I may remark, by the way, that a dry cellar is always desirable. There was no moisture, but there was a liberal supply of dust and cobwebs. On bottles that had been in their places only a few years, there would be a slight film or covering of dust. Those that could boast of twenty years, and those that had remained undisturbed a hundred or two hundred years, were covered so thickly that it was almost impossible to distinguish the bottles from the mass which covered them. I saw one shelf—I forget its age—where not a bottle was visible; it seemed to be a mass of cobwebs, and nothing more. To judge from its appearance, I would not have given twenty-five cents for the contents of that shelf; but if I had offered twenty-five hundred dollars, my offer would have been spurned with disdain. I asked the value of the wine on this shelf, and was told that it was twenty guineas a bottle. I did not want any of it at that price, but I presume that there are plenty of men in the world who are ready to pay it.
After we had seen the curiosities of the place, the proprietor insisted that we should make a practical test of his wine. He did not open any of the twenty-guinea stuff, and we could not expect him to, though I secretly hoped he would consider himself sufficiently honored by our presence to do the handsome thing, and break a bottle or two of it just to give us a taste. The best he would do was to open a ten-guinea bottle from another shelf. It is not every day you can smack your lips over wine worth fifty dollars in gold a bottle, and we sipped it very carefully, and allowed it to trickle not too rapidly down our throats. I found it a very agreeable wine; it had a rich and fruity, though rather sweetish taste. I know nothing to which it can be compared, and therefore I will not make any comparison.
WINE TASTING AND ITS EFFECT.
The proprietor treated us on the descending scale, for the next bottle he brought us was a five-guinea one. It was only forty or fifty years old, a very juvenile stuff, but we were unable to discover any great difference between it and the other. Two or three kinds of this wine were shown us, and then he brought all sorts of new wines just in the cellar, that is to say, they had only been there some five or ten, or it may be twenty years. Other wines were brought forward for our deglutition; and after a time the thing became a little monotonous, and I suspected that we might get our heads and feet a little tangled. I suggested that we had other business to attend to, and had better not indulge in the wine business any longer; but the proprietor was polite, and was constantly offering us just one more sample.