The early history of Montepulciano is buried in impenetrable mists of
fable. No one can assign a date to the foundation of these high-hill
cities. The eminence on which it stands belongs to the volcanic system
of Monte Amiata, and must at some time have formed a portion of the
crater which threw that mighty mass aloft. But aeons have passed since
the _gran sasso di Maremma_ was a fire-vomiting monster, glaring like
Etna in eruption on the Tyrrhene sea; and through those centuries how
many races may have camped upon the summit we call Montepulciano!
Tradition assigns the first quasi-historical settlement to Lars Porsena,
who is said to have made it his summer residence, when the lower and
more marshy air of Clusium became oppressive. Certainly it must have
been a considerable town in the Etruscan period. Embedded in the walls
of palaces may still be seen numerous fragments of sculptured
bas-reliefs, the works of that mysterious people. A propos of
Montepulciano's importance in the early years of Roman history, I
lighted on a quaint story related by its very jejune annalist, Spinello
Benci. It will be remembered that Livy attributes the invasion of the
Gauls, who, after besieging Clusium, advanced on Rome, to the
persuasions of a certain Aruns. He was an exile from Clusium; and
wishing to revenge himself upon his country-people, he allured the
Senonian Gauls into his service by the promise of excellent wine,
samples of which he had taken with him into Lombardy. Spinello Benci
accepts the legend literally, and continues: "These wines were so
pleasing to the palate of the barbarians, that they were induced to quit
the rich and teeming valley of the Po, to cross the Apennines, and move
in battle array against Chiusi. And it is clear that the wine which
Aruns selected for the purpose was the same as that which is produced to
this day at Montepulciano. For nowhere else in the Etruscan district can
wines of equally generous quality and fiery spirit be found, so adapted
for export and capable of such long preservation."
We may smile at the historian's _naivete_. Yet the fact remains that
good wine of Montepulciano can still allure barbarians of this epoch to
the spot where it is grown. Of all Italian vintages, with the exception
of some rare qualities of Sicily and the Valtellina, it is, in my humble
opinion, the best. And when the time comes for Italy to develop the
resources of her vineyards upon scientific principles, Montepulciano
will drive Brolio from the field and take the same place by the side of
Chianti which Volnay occupies by common Macon. It will then be quoted
upon wine-lists throughout Europe, and find its place upon the tables of
rich epicures in Hyperborean regions, and add its generous warmth to
Transatlantic banquets. Even as it is now made, with very little care
bestowed on cultivation and none to speak of on selection of the grape,
the wine is rich and noble, slightly rough to a sophisticated palate,
but clean in quality and powerful and racy. It deserves the enthusiasm
attributed by Redi to Bacchus:[A]--
Fill, fill, let us all have our will!
But with _what_, with _what_, boys, shall we fill?
Sweet Ariadne--no, not _that_ one--_ah_ no;
Fill me the manna of Montepulciano:
Fill me a magnum and reach it me.--Gods!
How it glides to my heart by the sweetest of roads!
Oh, how it kisses me, tickles me, bites me!
Oh, how my eyes loosen sweetly in tears!
I'm ravished! I'm rapt! Heaven finds me admissible!
Lost in an ecstasy! blinded! invisible!--
Hearken all earth!
We, Bacchus, in the might of our great mirth,
To all who reverence us, are right thinkers;
Hear, all ye drinkers!
Give ear and give faith to the edict divine;
Montepulciano's the King of all wine.
It is necessary, however, that our modern barbarian should travel to
Montepulciano itself, and there obtain a flask of _manna_ or _vino
nobile_ from some trusty cellar-master. He will not find it bottled in
the inns or restaurants upon his road.