human
Dined with Starling last week, he said.
gpt
Never was more insulted in my life, sir. Had his after-dinner wine—all of it, sir—in pint decanters!
human
Not, really? said Francis, with a seriousness by no means assumed.
gpt
In pints! You are quite sure you are correct?
human
Fact, sir.
gpt
I—! exclaimed Chestnut.
human
Pardon me; but I fail to see the insult.
gpt
What! You, sir! Your father’s son! Gentlemen do not serve wine in pints after dinner. They don’t do it; and the wine was bad—sick, thick!
human
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 of them of late, and they seemed to me much alike.
gpt
Alike, sir! You surprise me, said Wilmington.
human
I pity you. What a waste of opportunities! But it is not too late to reform—to learn. I know one man who made a quite correct palate at the age of forty—not a gentleman, either; and that ’s rather remarkable.
gpt
And is that so rare?
human
Oh, very,
gpt
I knew the man, returned Hamilton.
human
He died somewhat early. However, I have noticed that the acquisition of a taste for Madeira in middle life is quite fatal to common people.
gpt
Is that so? said Chestnut, greatly enjoying it all.
human
Upon my word, I still have a dim memory of all this stuff about wine, as I used to hear it when a lad. I thought it had gone with other superstitions. To be frank, I have so little trust in the tales I hear every day after dinner, about wine and wine-tasting, that—
gpt
Pardon me, interrupted Wilmington.
human
Of course you can hear much that is foolish; but to my mind the real facts are very often interesting.
gpt
Such as—? asked Chestnut.
human
Pray tell me.
gpt
Hamilton will indorse this as an illustration. He was one of eight gentlemen—of whom three are nowhere—who were asked to give judgment on certain wines. Each man wrote his opinion as to the value, age, and quality of each specimen, and folding over the paper passed it with the wine. Finally, Hamilton read aloud each statement. The estimated price, or value, of a demijohn—that is of five gallons—of each was given; the age, the character, the defects, and so on. The prices assigned to the grape-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.
human
It is, I suppose, said Chestnut, who began to take a more serious interest,
gpt
No, said Hamilton.
human
Far more is it a gift. Some women have it wonderfully.
gpt
But, after all, said Francis,
human
I have known certain persons in whom refined delicacy of palate was accompanied with an almost incredible remembrance of past impressions as to the taste of things. Our old friend Mr. C——, as we all know, could recall a particular coffee or tea he had tasted years ago; could say what wines had been by accident mixed in the Madeira he drank; and was able to declare, as a test of his singular skill, in which of two clean wine-glasses a boiled egg had been placed a day or two before.
gpt
It is interesting, said Chestnut;
human
Well, now, to reëducate you, said Hamilton,
gpt
So saying, he put on his spectacles, and began to scan the silver labels on his decanters, and to rearrange the order of the row of wines, so as to present them somewhat as opinions are given in a council of war—the least esteemed first. Meanwhile he said:
human
Wilmington likes his wine cool. It is a grave question. I prefer it a trifle above the temperature of the room. It insures a more perfect presentation both of taste and smell. A little chill may cloud wine, or repress its bouquet. We are all agreed that the wine should be at rest in a warm room some days, or longer, before it is drunk. Nothing mellows a wine like that. And then one must be careful not to have wine shaken; that bruises it. But this is commonplace, Chestnut; I am merely giving you a preliminary education. I think you will find these Madeiras in good condition, carefully drawn and bright. I ought to add that they are all drawn with the siphon, so as not to disturb the salts which crystallize on the sides of the demijohn, or the deposit every wine lets fall, as a good man drops his faults as he goes on in life.
gpt
Just a word before we take our wine, said Francis.
human
I saw Chestnut smile at the idea of a wine being bruised. I can tell him a story about that. We were dining at the Quoit Club, in Germantown, and were at table 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 the general 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 your coat-tail pocket—the left pocket.’ We were soon convinced as to the wine having been thus shaken out of health; but his inference as to the left pocket puzzled us all, until the general asked some one to stand up, and to put a bottle in his own coat-tail pocket. Then the reason of my friend’s conclusion became clear enough—however, I delay the wine.
gpt
Well, here it is, said Hamilton, filling his glass. Then he passed the decanter to Wilmington, on his left, saying,
human
With the sun, gentlemen.
gpt
A fair grape-juice, said the latter;
human
And what, said Chestnut,
gpt
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 a grape-juice, that is what he means. But a Madeira—what we call simply a Madeira—is apt to be dry, and usually is the result of careful blending of wines and some maturing by natural heat.
human
But in time, said Chestnut,
gpt
Ah, you will learn, cried Wilmington.
human
But wait a little. A grape-juice never becomes what we denominate a Madeira.
gpt
I don’t agree with you,
human
We are in very deep water now, laughed Francis.
gpt
I, myself, think the finest of the old dry Madeiras were once sugary maidens.
human
Nonsense, said Hamilton, passing the next wine.
gpt
With the sun.
human
Why with the sun?
gpt
Because it sours a wine to send it to the right, said Wilmington, dryly.
human
That is a fact, sir,—a well-known fact.
gpt
Droll, that, returned Chestnut.
human
I wonder whence came that notion.
gpt
It is a pretty old one; possibly Roman. The Greeks passed their drink to the right. Wine is a strange fluid. It has its good and its bad days.
human
I am willing to say its moods,
gpt
I suppose, continued the older man,
human
Indeed, is that so? returned Chestnut.
gpt
I am not surprised. In France women are not allowed to enter the great cheese-caves.
human
A planter in the South told me that once two blacks were arranging bottles in his wine-room, and quarreled. One stabbed the other. The fellow died, and his blood ran over the floor; and from that day the wines in that room were bitter. You know that bitterness is one form of the sicknesses to which Madeira is liable.
gpt
I congratulate you, cried Wilmington, as he set down his glass.
human
A perfect grape-juice—new to me too. High up, sir; very high up ; and refilling his glass, he sent on the coaster.
gpt
Observe, Chestnut, the refinement of it; neither the sweet nor the bouquet is too obvious. It is like a well-bred lady. Observe what a gamut of delicate flavors; none are excessive. And then at last there remains in the mouth a sort of fugitive memory of its delightfulness.
human
As one remembers the lady when she is gone,
gpt
Thanks,
human
Am I wrong, said Chestnut,
gpt
Well, well! said Wilmington.
human
And this man says he has no palate! That is the charm of these lovely wines: they are many things to many lovers—have for each a separate enchantment. I thought it was a rose-water taste; but no matter, you may be correct. But Hamilton can give you a better wine. No grape-juice can compete with the best Madeiras. In wine and man the noblest social flavors come with years. It is pure waste to ask to dinner any man under forty.
gpt
And now fill your glasses, said Hamilton.
human
Are you all charged? Your health, gentlemen! I waited for this wine;
gpt
That good old formula, ’Are you all charged?’ is going out, said Chestnut.
human
I used to hear it when I came in to dessert at my father’s table.
gpt
One rarely hears it nowadays, remarked Francis.
human
But at the Green Tree Insurance Company’s dinners it is still in habitual use. When the cloth is off, the President says, ’Are you all charged, gentlemen?’ and then, ’Success to the Mutual Assurance Company.’ You know, Chestnut, its insurance sign—still to be seen on our older houses—is a green tree. The Hand in Hand Insurance Company refused to insure houses in front of which were trees, because in the last century the fire-engines were unable to throw a stream over or through them. The Mutual accepted such risks, and hence has been always known popularly in Philadelphia as the Green Tree. After a pause, the Vice-President rises and repeats the formal query, ’Are you all charged?’ The directors then stand up, and he says, ’The memory of Washington.’ We have a tradition that the news of the great general’s death in 1799 came while the Board of Directors was dining. From that time until now they have continued to drink that toast.
gpt
I like that, said Chestnut.
human
These ancient customs seem to survive better here than elsewhere in America.
gpt
That is true, returned Hamilton.
human
And what you say reminds me of some odd rules in the Philadelphia Library, which Franklin founded in 1731. We have—at our own cost, of course—a supper of oysters roasted in the shell at a wood fire in the room where we meet. A modest bowl of rum punch completes the fare. Old Ben was afraid that this repast would degenerate into a drinking-bout such as was too common in his time. He therefore ingeniously arranged a table so high that it was impossible to sit at it, and this shrewd device seems to have answered.
gpt
When I became a director of the library, said Francis,
human
How like Poor Richard!
gpt
I was consoled, added Francis,
human
Agreeable, that, murmured Wilmington.
gpt
But we are trifling, my dear Francis. What is next, Hamilton? Ah, a new wine. That is a wine indeed! A Madeira. Stay! I have drunk it before. A Butler wine, is n’t it?
human
Yes. I misplaced the decanters; this should have come later.
gpt
I see now, said Chestnut.
human
What is that curious aftertaste? Prunes? Is n’t it prunes?
gpt
Certainly, cried Hamilton.
human
You are doing well, Chestnut. These noble old wines have a variety of dominant flavors, with what I might call a changeful halo of less decisive qualities. We call the more or less positive tastes apple, peach, prune, quince; but in fact these are mere names. The characterizing taste is too delicate for competent nomenclature. It is a thing transitory, evanescent, indefinable, like the quality of the best manners. No two are alike.
gpt
Yes, said Hamilton;
human
As you talk of these wines, said Chestnut,
gpt
I dimly recall the names of some I used to hear. ’Constitution,’ a Boston wine, was one—
human
And a good vintage, too, said Hamilton.
gpt
It was the class wine of 1802.
human
The class wine?
gpt
Yes. At Harvard each class used to import a tun of wine, which, after it was bottled, was distributed among the graduates. I still have two of the bottles with ’1802,’ surrounded by ’Constitution,’ molded in the glass.
human
A good wine it was, added Francis.
gpt
I know of no other which has been so little hurt by being bottled.
human
There were others I used also to hear about. One, I think, was called ’Resurrection’—a wine buried for protection in the war; but some of the names of these wines puzzle me.
gpt
The Butlers, returned Francis,
human
Might I ask how long may a Madeira live, and continuously gain in value for the palate?
gpt
Ah, that depends on the wine, said Hamilton.
human
I never drank a wine over seventy years old which had not something to regret—like ourselves, eh, Wilmington?
gpt
I have nothing to regret, returned the elder man, smiling,
human
For some others,
gpt
I fancy, said Chestnut,
human
And what was that?
gpt
It is long since I read it. I am not quite sure I can repeat it accurately. He contends in a humorous vein for the moral value of wine—I think he is speaking of Canary. ’Of this,’ he says, ’may be verified that merry induction—that good wine makes good blood; good blood causeth good thoughts; good thoughts bring forth good works; good works carry a man to heaven: _ergo_, good wine carrieth a man to heaven.’
human
It sounds like one of Shakspere’s fools,
gpt
I should like to read that book,
human
It is at your service, replied Chestnut;
gpt
Then let us get nearer to good works, laughed their host.
human
Here is a pleasant preacher. Try this.
gpt
Ah, said Wilmington;
human
Needs time, said Francis,
gpt
One might risk it, said Wilmington.
human
But I would rather use a milk fining. It is more delicate, and the wine recovers sooner, unless the dose of milk be too large. But above all, Hamilton, be careful about the moon. A summer fining might be better, but touch it lightly.
gpt
What on earth has the moon to do with it?
human
If you want to spoil a Madeira, answered Wilmington,
gpt
I shall call this wine ’Smoke,’ said Hamilton.
human
Its name is really Palido. Certainly it has a great future. No better wine ever coasted along the shores of this table, and it has seen many vinous voyages. And now for a very interesting vintage. A little more bread, John. ’With the sun.’