1880 Facts about Port and Madeira by Henry Vizetelly

52

In the PoH Wine Country.

staves in hand, in order to see that every one performs his proper share of labour. The treaders, -with their -white breeches well tucked up, mount into the lagar, where they form three separate rows of ten men each on either side of the huge overhanging beam, and, placing their arms on each other's shoulders, commence work by raising and lowering- their feet alternately, calling out as they do so,"Direita, esquerda!" ("Eight, left!"), varying this, after a time, with songs and shoutings in order to keep the weaker and the lazier ones up to the work, which is quite as irksome and monotonous as either treadmill or prison crank,which tender-hearted philan thropists regard with so much horror. But the lagariros have something more than singing or shouting to encourage them. Taking part with them in the treading is a little band of musi cians, with dnim,fife, fiddle, and guitar, who strike up a lively tune,while theircomradeschimein,somebywhistling,others-with castanets. Occasionally,too, nips of brandy are served out,and the overseers present cigarettes all round,whereupon thetreaders vary their monotonous movements with a brisker measure. This first treading—^the"sovar o vinho," or beating the -wine, as it is called—lasts, with occasional respites and relays of fresh men,for eighteen hours. A long interval now ensues, and then the treading or beating is resumed. By this time the grapes are pretty well crushed,and walking over the pips and stalks,stre-wn atthebottom ofthelagar,becomessomethinglikethe pilgrimages of old when the devout trudged wearily along, with hard peas packed between the soles oftheir feet and the solesof their shoes. The lagariros, with their garments more or less bespattered with grape-juice, move slowly about in their mauve-colom-ed mucilaginous bath in a listless kind of way, now smoking cigarettes, now -with their anns folded or thro-wn behind their backs, or -with their hands tucked in their waistcoat-pockets or raised up to their chins while they support the elbow of the one arm with the hand of the other. The fiddle strikes up anew, the drum sounds,the fife squeaks,the guitar tinkles, and the overseers drowsily upbraid. But all to no purpose. Music has