1880 Facts about Port and Madeira by Henry Vizetelly

46

l7i the Port Wine Country.

the Douro—on the opposite banks of which are the famous quintas of Bomaneira and Eoncao,shaded by cypress and orange trees—in our rear. After an hour or more of difficult ridinsr up rude stone staircases, at which a Leicestershire squire would gaze with horror, we reach the Quiuta do Caedo, belonging to Senhor Francisco Seixas, a gaiTulous, excitable old gentleman and ancient adherent of Queen Dona Maria,fighting in whose cause he received a bullet which entered his cheek and passed out at his neck, leaving behind it ugly scars, whicb remain to this day. He calculated upon vintaging as many as 160 pipes of wine from his various vineyards. Here the.treading of the grapes was going on vigorouslyto the sound ofa tinkling guitar strummed on by some ancient minstrel, the men smoking, whistling,and singing, while a crowd of young women posted before the open windows chimed merrily in. Am adjoining lagar, where the grapes had been already trodden, was so full of the expressed juice—on the snrface of which the skins and stalks of the grapes were floating in a compact mass—that it had to be banked up with tiles round the edges to prevent the mosto from flowing over. In anticipation of our visit luncheon had been prepared by the owner of the quinta, and to this we were now invited in a room hung round with festoons of grapes for table use during the coming winter. If ever a table really groaned,as tables are often said to do, the one we sat down to might fairly have done so,imder the weight of fatted turkeys,ducks, fowls, red-legged partridges, sucking-pigs, and juicy hams, together with cheeses made from sheep's milk, sponge-cakes of incredible dimensions, quince, peach, and pum[)kin preserves, olives, apples, and huge bunches of luscious purple grapes. At a feast like this,in a remote corner of the Upper Douro,Port wine, as may be supposed, was your only liquor—the traditional cup of cold water was not to be had even if you prayed for it— but it was Port ofthe grand vintages of 1834 and 1858. Alto gether it was hospitality in riot, and prayers and remonstrances at the profuse way in which your plate was constantly being