60 



through which we were passing. The erect, sentinel-like poplar, too, appears 

 to have completely replaced the spreading plane tree of the Midi. 



I reached Bordeaux in the evening of the 5th. This is an important town 

 of close on 300,000 inhabitants, and the third seaport of France. It gathers 

 added importance from the fact that it is the official centre of the celebrated 

 French claret districts ; indeed, wine exports form one of its chief sources 

 of revenue. In another direction I understand that the inhabitants of 

 Bordeaux enjoy the reputation of gastronomic enthusiasts. From personal 

 experience I can say that rarely have I met individuals who appeared to 

 attach greater importance to the rites of the table ; more perhaps than any 

 other community may they be said to live to eat. 



Through the kindness of Mr. McDonald (the British Consul) I was intro- 

 duced to Mr. Barton, of Messrs. Barton & Guestier, one of the principal 

 wine firms of the town. I was very kindly shown over their town cellars, 

 which consist for the most part of a veritable labyrinth of winding drives, 

 running under buildings and neighboring streets. Here I saw stacked away 

 over 2,000,000 bottles of the choicest clarets and countless rows of casks. 

 In accordance with local usage, which would prove fatal if adopted in Aus- 

 tralia, these casks were lying with bunghole on one side, and left on ullage 

 for six months at a time. Bottling operations were in full swing at the time 

 of my visit, and I had occasion to notice how little mechanical devices so 

 common elsewhere had found favor in this ultra-conservative district. Ap- 

 parently bottling or capsuling machines were things not to be thought of ; 

 they might have the effect of reducing the quality of the wine, which from 

 time immemorial has been successfully bottled without them. 



On the following day Mr. Barton was good enough to motor us over country 

 districts adjacent to the town. I was thus able to see Chateau Margaux, 

 Chateau Laffitte, and Chateau Barton-Leoville. I was highly amused at 

 the somewhat hostile reception accorded to us at Chateau Margaux. In 

 my 12 months' wandering over different parts of the world it is the only 

 instance of the kind that I met with. Indeed, hitherto my experiences 

 in this direction had been monotonously tame. It appeared to me that all 

 those whom it had been my good fortune to meet felt that they could not 

 do enough for a somewhat inquisitive stranger. Chateau Margaux, however, 

 supplied the excitement of a novel experience. Its management is in the 

 hands of a callow youth, so primed up with occult knowledge of his craft 

 that he appeared to think that a mere glimpse of his speaking features might 

 betray some of the secrets he so jealously guarded from the eyes of discern- 

 ing visitors. A party of foreigners to look over Chateau Margaux ! The 

 invisible potentate sent out one of his understrappers to take charge of us, 

 withi instructions apparently to pilot us dexterously away from whatever 

 might prove of interest. I expressed a natural desire to look over the wine 

 cellars. Our unfortunate guide, who was politeness personified, and appeared 



