“Good brandy—_i.e._ a genuine wine-distilled {146} spirit—is being produced in Spain in commercial quantities which it is to be hoped will successfully compete with the stuff erroneously called brandy, not to say Cognac, but of which not a drop has been derived from the grape.” In my researches into the manufacture of port and sherry, I have come across no mention of the phylloxera. I am, therefore, halting between the beliefs, either that the Spaniards and Portuguese understand vermin better than do the French, or that the “vine-louse” has her own reasons for keeping out of Spain and Portugal. Forty years ago an estimable Irish nobleman was known as “Old Sherry,” from his partiality to that wine. And thirty years ago I was once seated at the table of a General of Division, up at Simla. My right-hand neighbour was a son of this same nobleman, but our host, apparently, did not know this—or had forgotten the fact. At all events, during a lull in the conversation, the General (who had a voice like sharpening a saw) rapped out: “By the way, Captains—you say you’ve been quartered in Ireland—did you ever meet ‘Old Sherry’ there?” A subaltern can’t very well throw a dinner-roll at a General or stick a carving-fork into his leg; but that is what I, personally, felt like doing. In mediæval times a sufficient quantity of wine for the needs of the inhabitants was made in gallant little Wales; and the idea of reviving the industry occurred to the Marquis of Bute, who has done so much for the welfare of Cardiff {147} and the neighbourhood. The vineyards are on the site of the old ones, facing south, and the vines were planted twenty years ago, and are very hardy. There is no reason why they should not be propagated to almost any extent, and there is abundant scope for the extension of the vineyards and a proportionate increase in the yield of wine. The vintages of 1885, 1890, and 1891 are marked in Messrs. Hatch, Mansfield and Co.’s list as “All sold,” and although the vintage of ’98, owing to the long spell of dry weather, does not promise particularly well, the Marquis is no more unfortunate in this respect than most other vine-growers. _Vintages._ As my readers may not all be connoisseurs in the matter of wines, a few words on the subject of vintages may be appropriate, at the close of this chapter. With regard to champagnes, the good years are ’65, ’68, ’74 (especially good), ’78, ’80, ’84, ’85, ’87 (somewhat light in body), ’89, ’92, and ’93. All the other vintages since ’65 have turned out more or less badly; and there have been no good vintages since ’93.