The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1883-06-08
LOndOn's Wine.VauIts.


The wine-vaults of London are not
to be seen every day or by every per-
son. / was fortunate enough to secure
tasting ORDER" and /, in company
with one or two others, made tour of
the st. Katherine's and London Dock
vaults. saw over 5000, 900 packages
of port and sherry, over 100000 OF
claret, and 100000 of spirits. They
were in vast tuns, hogsheads, casks, and
barrels, and the total amount in stor-
age was 260, 100000 gallons. In fact
there were six and one-half gallons for
every man, woman adm child of the popu-
lation of Great Britain. Some of it had
been in store for years. The owners had
forgotten about it, and the old and moldy
casks had rotted away at their chimes
and had been several times replaced.
One lot of 1000 gallons of sherry had
been in the vaults for nearly fifty years.
1t was brought from the South of Spain
| by its owner, who had fallen dead in
the vaults. The wine, along with his
other property, had passed into
chancery, and the litigation, which has
continued for nearly half century, is
as far from being ended, apparently, as
when it begun. But the wine has been
growing old and valuable, and if sold
now would probably bring 3 guineas
gallon.
Let me explain that these vaults are
simply great cellars under the dock
houses. In area they aggregate some
thirty-five acres. They extend under
the Thames on one side and well under
Tower Hill on the other. They are
about sixteen feet from floor to roof,
and are by no means regular in form,
but reach out in strange passages and
alleys in all directions. They are bond
ed by the Government, and owners can
have their property in them as long as
they like without paying customs duties.
A long, narrow flight of well-worn
stone steps that have been in constant
use since 1904 opened before our view,
and at their foot were dim, twinkling
lights that hickered fitfully, as if in a
struggle to overcome the fumes OF the
wines that came up The stone channel
like breeze from distillery. 1t was
warm, rich with the odor OF the wines,
and musty and moldy. A sniff of it
wasn't half bad, but you remember the
fate of the Persian esthete who had his
choice of death ITO die amid sweet
perfumes" he said. SO they chucked
him into hogshead of altar of roses
and he expired in great agony. AT the
bottom of the flight of steps the guide
met us, tall, broad-shouldered rudy
cockney. who handed us each a lard-oil
lamp, fastened to straight stick about
eighteen inches long. He began by
asking us if any one was teetotaler.
None of us were. Because" said he,
IF you don't take drop of something
on your stomach you'll get screwed be-
cause of the smell" He drew glass
of sherry for each one of us out of big
cask near the foot of the steps. 1t was
a heavy, full-bodied wine, with rich
nutty flavor and an aftermath like
leather smells. 1t had been hung in
leather skins over one season, having
been the last made and too late for the
regular wine harvest, but it was good
for all that, and livery mellowin' to the
horgans."
Turning then sharply to the left the
vaults spread out before us in vast
underground acreage. Lights twinkled
here and there, modify men were en-
gagged in moving the packages at some
places, and down the long passage
under the Thames the polished steel
skids for riding barrel stretched in
narrowing perspective, till they joined
apparently in one and flashed on under
the line of lights above them. -London
! letter.