The Wine of Sillery-- Origin of its Renown-- The Marechale d'Estrées
a successful Marchande de Vin-- From Reims to Sillery-- Failure of
the Jacquesson Vineyards-- Château of Sillery-- Wine Making at
M. Fortel's-- Sillery sec-- The Vintage and Vendangeoirs at
Verzenay-- The Verzy Vineyards-- Edward III. at the Abbey of St.
Basle-- From Reims to Bouzy-- The Herring Procession at St. Remi--
Rilly, Chigny, and Ludes-- The Knights Templars' "Pot" of Wine--
Mailly and the View over the Plains of the Champagne-- Wine Making
at Mailly-- The Village in the Wood-- Village and Château of
Louvois-- Louis le Grand's War Minister-- Bouzy, its Vineyards and
Church Steeple, and the Lottery of the Great Gold Ingot-- MM.
Werlé's and Moët and Chandon's Vendangeoirs-- Pressing the Grapes--
Still Red Bouzy-- Ambonnay-- A Peasant Proprietor-- The Vineyards of
Ville-Dommange and Sacy, Hermonville, and St. Thierry-- The Still
Red Wine of the latter.
The smallest of the Champagne vineyards are those of Sillery, and yet no
wine of the Marne enjoys a greater renown, due originally to the
intelligence and energy of the Maréchale d'Estrées, the clever daughter
of a Jew financier, who brought the wine of Sillery prominently into
notice during the latter half of the seventeenth century. She had
vineyards at Mailly, Verzy, and Verzenay, as well as at Sillery, and
concentrated their produce in the capacious cellars of her château,
afterwards sending it forth with her own guarantee, under the general
name of Sillery, which, like Aaron's serpent, thus swallowed up the
others. The Maréchale's social position enabled her to secure for her
wines the recognition they really merited, added to which she was a keen
woman of business. She also possessed much taste, and whenever she gave
one of her rare entertainments nothing could be more exquisite or more
magnificent. At the same time, she was so sordid that when her daughter,
who was covered with jewels, fell down at a ball, her first cry was, not
like Shylock's, "my daughter," but "my diamonds," as rushing forward she
strove to pick up, not the fallen dancer, but her scattered gems.
The drive from Reims to Sillery has nothing attractive about it. A long,
straight, level road bordered by trees intersects a broad tract of open
country, skirted on the right by the Petite Montagne of Reims, with
antiquated villages nestled among the dense woodland. After crossing the
Châlons line of railway--near where one of the new forts constructed for
the defence of Reims rises up behind the villages and vineyards of
Cernay and Nogent l'Abbesse--the country becomes more undulating.
Poplars border the broad Marne canal, and a low fringe of foliage marks
the course of the languid river Vesle, on the banks of which is Taissy,
famous in the old days for its wines, great favourites with Sully, and
which almost lured Henri Quatre from his allegiance to the vintages of
Ay and Arbois that he loved so well.
To the left rises Mont de la Pompelle, where the first Christians of
Reims suffered martyrdom, and where in 1658 the Spaniards under Montal,
when attempting to ravage the vineyards of the district, were repulsed
with terrible slaughter by the Remois militia, led on by Grandpré.
A quarter of a century ago the low ground on our right near Sillery was
planted with vines by M. Jacquesson, the owner of the Sillery estate,
and a large champagne manufacturer at Châlons, who was anxious to
resuscitate the ancient reputation of the domain. Under the advice of
Dr. Guyot, the well-known writer on viticulture, he planted the vines in
deep trenches, which led to the vineyards being punningly termed
Jacquesson's _celery_ beds. To shield the vines from hailstorms
prevalent in the district, and the more dangerous spring frosts,
so fatal to vines planted in low-lying situations, long rolls of
straw-matting were stored close at hand with which to roof them over
when needful. These precautions were scarcely needed, however; the vines
languished through moisture at the roots, and eventually were mostly
rooted up.
After again crossing the railway, we pass the trim, restored turrets of
the famous château of Sillery, with its gateways, moats, and
drawbridges, flanked by trees and floral parterres. It was here that the
Maréchale d'Estrées carried on her successful business as a _marchande
de vins_, and the pragmatic and pedantic Comtesse de Genlis, governess
of the Orleans princes, spent, as she tells us, the happiest days of her
life. The few thriving vineyards of Sillery cover a gentle eminence
which rises out of the plain, and present on the one side an eastern and
on the other a western aspect. To-day the Vicomte de Brimont and
M. Fortel of Reims, the latter of whom cultivates about forty acres of
vines, yielding ordinarily about 300 hogsheads, are the only
wine-growers at Sillery. Before pressing his grapes--of course for
sparkling wine--M. Fortel has them thrown into a trough, at the bottom
of which are a couple of grooved cylinders, each about eight inches in
diameter, and revolving in contrary directions, the effect of which,
when set in motion, is to disengage the grapes partially from their
stalks. Grapes and stalks are then placed under the press, which is on
the old cyder-press principle, and the must runs into a reservoir
beneath, whence it is pumped into large vats, each holding from 250 to
500 gallons. Here it remains from six to eight hours, and is then run
off into casks, the spigots of which are merely laid lightly over the
holes, and in the course of twelve days the wine begins to ferment. It
now rests until the end of the year, when it is drawn off into new casks
and delivered to the buyer, invariably one or other of the great
champagne houses, who willingly pay an exceptionally high price for it.
The second and third pressures of the grapes yield an inferior wine, and
from the husks and stalks _eau-de-vie_, worth about five shillings a
gallon, is distilled.
The wine known as Sillery sec is a full, dry, pleasant-flavoured, and
somewhat spirituous amber-coloured wine. Very little of it is made
now-a-days, and most that is comes from the adjacent vineyards of
Verzenay and Mailly, and is principally reserved by the growers for
their own consumption. One of these candidly admitted to me that the old
reputation of the wine had exploded, and that better white Bordeaux and
Burgundy wines were to be obtained for less money. In making dry
Sillery, which locally is esteemed as a valuable tonic, it is essential
that the grapes should be subjected to only slight pressure, while to
have it in perfection it is equally essential that the wine should be
kept for ten years in the wood according to some, and eight years in
bottle according to others, to which circumstance its high price is in
all probability to be attributed. In course of time it forms a deposit,
and has the disadvantage common to all the finer still wines of the
Champagne district of not travelling well.
Beyond Sillery the vineyards of Verzenay unfold themselves, spreading
over the extensive slopes and stretching to the summit of the steep
height to the right, where a windmill or two is perched. Everywhere the
vintagers are busy detaching the grapes with their little hook-shaped
_serpettes_, the women all wearing projecting, close-fitting bonnets, as
though needlessly careful of their anything but blonde complexions. Long
carts laden with baskets of grapes block the narrow roads, and donkeys,
duly muzzled, with baskets slung across their backs, toil up and down
the steeper slopes. Half way up the principal hill, backed by a dense
wood and furrowed with deep trenches, whence soil has been removed for
manuring the vineyards, is the village of Verzenay, overlooking a
veritable sea of vines. Rising up in front of the old grey cottages,
encompassed by orchards or gardens, are the white walls and long red
roofs of the vendangeoirs belonging to the great champagne houses--Moët
and Chandon, Clicquot, G. H. Mumm, Roederer, Deutz and Geldermann, and
others--all teeming with bustle and excitement, and with the vines
almost reaching to their very doors. Moët and Chandon have as many as
eight presses in full work, and own no less than 120 acres of vines on
the neighbouring slopes, besides the Clos de Romont--in the direction of
Sillery, and yielding a wine of the Sillery type--belonging to M. Moët
Romont. At Messrs. G. H. Mumm's the newly-delivered grapes are either
being weighed and emptied into one of the pressoirs, or else receiving
their first gentle squeeze. Verzenay ranks as a _premier crû_, and for
three years in succession--1872, 3, and 4--its wines fetched a higher
price than either those of Ay or Bouzy. In 1873 the _vin brut_ commanded
the exceptionally large sum of 1,030 francs the hogshead of 44 gallons.
All the inhabitants of Verzenay are vine proprietors, and several
million francs are annually received by them for the produce of their
vineyards from the manufacturers of champagne. The wine of Verzenay,
remarkable for its body and vinosity, has always been held in high
repute, which is more than can be said for the probity of the
inhabitants, for according to an old Champagne saying--"Whenever at
Verzenay 'Stop thief' is cried every one takes to his heels."
Just over the mountain of Reims is the village of Verzy, the vineyards
of which adjoin those of Verzenay, and are almost exclusively planted
with white grapes, the only instance of the kind to be met with in the
district. In the clos St. Basse, however--taking its name from the abbey
of St. Basle, of which the village was a dependency, and where Edward
III. of England had his head-quarters during the siege of Reims--black
grapes alone are grown, and its produce is almost on a par with the
wines of Verzenay. Southwards of Verzy are the third-class crûs of
Villers-Marmery and Trépail.
[Illustration:
THE VINEYARDS OF VERZENAY. (p. 36.)]
On leaving Reims on our excursion to the vineyards of Bouzy we pass the
quaint old church of St. Remi, one of the sights of the Champagne
capital, and notable among other things for its magnificent ancient
stained-glass windows, and the handsome modern tomb of the popular
Remois saint. It was here in the middle ages that that piece of priestly
mummery, the procession of the herrings, used to take place at dusk on
the Wednesday before Easter. Preceded by a cross the canons of the
church marched in double file up the aisles, each trailing a cord after
him, with a herring attached. Every one's object was to tread on the
herring in front of him, and prevent his own herring from being trodden
upon by the canon who followed behind--a difficult enough proceeding
which, if it did not edify, certainly afforded much amusement to the
lookers-on.
Soon after crossing the canal and the river Vesle we leave the grey
antiquated-looking village of Cormontreuil on our left, and traverse a
wide stretch of cultivated country streaked with patches of woodland.
Occasional windmills dot the distant heights, while villages nestle
among the trees up the mountain sides and in the quiet hollows. Soon a
few vineyards occupying the lower slopes, and thronged by bands of
vintagers, come in sight, and the country too gets more picturesque. We
pass successively on our right hand Rilly, producing a capital red wine,
then Chigny, and afterwards Ludes, all three more or less up the
mountain, with vines in all directions, relieved by a dark background of
forest trees. In the old days the Knights Templars of the Commanderie of
Reims had the right of _vinage_ at Ludes, and exacted their modest "pot"
(about half a gallon) per pièce on all the wine the village produced. On
our left hand is Mailly, the vineyards of which join those of Verzenay,
and yield a wine noted for _finesse_ and bouquet. From the wooded knolls
hereabouts a view is gained of the broad plains of the Champagne, dotted
with white villages and scattered homesteads among the poplars and the
limes, the winding Vesle glittering in the sunlight, and the dark towers
of Notre Dame de Reims, with all their rich Gothic fretwork, rising
majestically above the distant city.
At one vendangeoir we visited at Mailly between 350 and 400 pièces of
wine were being made at the rate of some thirty pièces during the long
day of twenty hours, five men being engaged in working the old-fashioned
press, closely resembling a cyder press, and applying its pressure
longitudinally. The must was emptied into large vats, holding about 450
gallons, and remained there for two or three days before being drawn off
into casks. Of the above thirty pièces, twenty resulting from the first
pressure were of the finest quality, four produced by the second
pressure were partly reserved to replace what the first might lose
during fermentation, the residue serving for second-class champagne. The
six pièces which came from the final pressure, after being mixed with
common wine of the district, were converted into champagne of inferior
quality.
We now cross the mountain, sight Ville-en-Selve--the village in the
wood--among the distant trees, and eventually reach Louvois, whence the
Grand Monarque's domineering war minister derived his marquisate, and
where his château, a plain but capacious edifice, may still be seen
nestled in a picturesque and fertile valley, and surrounded by lordly
pleasure grounds. Soon afterwards the vineyards of Bouzy appear in
sight, with the prosperous-looking little village rising out of the
plain at the foot of the vine-clad slopes stretching to Ambonnay, and
the glittering Marne streaking the hazy distance. The commodious new
church was indebted for its spire, we were told, to the lucky
gainer--who chanced to be a native of Bouzy--of the great gold ingot
lottery prize, value £16,000, drawn some years ago. The Bouzy vineyards
occupy a series of gentle inclines, and have the advantage of a full
southern aspect. The soil, which is of the customary calcareous
formation, has a marked ruddy tinge, indicative of the presence of iron,
to which the wine is in some degree indebted for its distinguishing
characteristics--its delicacy, spirituousness, and pleasant bouquet.
Vintagers are passing slowly in between the vines, and carts laden with
grapes come rolling over the dusty roads. The mountain which rises
behind is scored up its sides and fringed with foliage at its summit,
and a small stone bridge crosses the deep ravine formed by the swift
descending winter torrents.
[Illustration:
THE VINEYARDS OF BOUZY. (p. 38.)]
[Illustration:
PRESSING GRAPES AT M. WERLÉ'S VENDANGEOIR AT BOUZY. (p. 39)]
The principal vineyard proprietors at Bouzy, which ranks, of course, as
a _premier crû_, are M. Werlé, M. Irroy, and Messrs. Moët and Chandon,
the first and last of whom have capacious vendangeoirs here, M. Irroy's
pressing-house being in the neighbouring village of Ambonnay. M. Werlé
possesses at Bouzy from forty to fifty acres of the finest vines,
forming a considerable proportion of the entire vineyard area. At the
Clicquot-Werlé vendangeoir, containing as many as eight presses, about
1,000 pièces of wine are made annually. At the time of our visit, grapes
gathered that morning were in course of delivery, the big basketfuls
being measured off in caques--wooden receptacles, holding two-and-twenty
gallons--while the florid-faced foreman ticked them off with a piece of
chalk on the head of an adjacent cask.
As soon as the contents of some half-hundred or so of these baskets had
been emptied on to the floor of the press, the grapes undetached from
their stalks were smoothed compactly down, and a moderate pressure was
applied to them by turning a huge wheel, which caused the screw of the
press to act--a gradual squeeze rather than a powerful one, and given
all at once, coaxing out, it was said, the finer qualities of the fruit.
The operation was repeated as many as six times; the yield from the
three first pressures being reserved for conversion into champagne,
while the result of the fourth squeeze would be applied to replenishing
the loss, averaging 7½ per cent., sustained by the must during
fermentation. Whatever comes from the fifth pressure is sold to make an
inferior champagne. The grapes are subsequently well raked about, and
then subjected to a couple of final squeezes, known as the _rébêche_,
and yielding a sort of _piquette_, given to the workmen employed at the
pressoir to drink.
The small quantity of still red Bouzy wine made by M. Werlé at the same
vendangeoir only claims to be regarded as a wine of especial mark in
good years. The grapes before being placed beneath the press are allowed
to remain in a vat for as many as eight days. The must undergoes a long
fermentation, and after being drawn off into casks is left undisturbed
for a couple of years. In bottle, where, by the way, it invariably
deposits a sediment, which is indeed the case with all the wines of the
Champagne, still or sparkling, it will outlive, we were told, any
Burgundy.
Still red Bouzy has a marked and agreeable bouquet and a most delicate
flavour, is deliciously smooth to the palate, and to all appearances as
light as a wine of Bordeaux, while in reality it is quite as strong as
Burgundy, to the finer crûs of which it bears a slight resemblance. It
was, I learnt, most susceptible to travelling, a mere journey to Paris
being, it was said, sufficient to sicken it, and impart such a shock to
its delicate constitution that it was unlikely to recover from it. To
attain perfection, this wine, which is what the French term a _vin vif_,
penetrating into the remotest corners of the organ of taste, requires to
be kept a couple of years in wood and half-a-dozen or more years in
bottle.
From Bouzy it was only a short distance along the base of the vine
slopes to Ambonnay, where there are merely two or three hundred acres of
vines, and where we found the vintage almost over. The village is girt
with fir trees, and surrounded by rising ground fringed with solid belts
or slender strips of foliage. An occasional windmill cuts against the
horizon, which is bounded here and there by scattered trees. Inquiring
for the largest vine proprietor we were directed to an open
porte-cochère, and on entering the large court encountered half-a-dozen
labouring men engaged in various farm occupations. Addressing one whom
we took to be the foreman, he referred us to a wiry little old man, in
shirt-sleeves and sabots, absorbed in the refreshing pursuit of turning
over a big heap of rich manure with a fork. He proved to be M. Oury, the
owner of I forget how many acres of vines, and a remarkably intelligent
peasant, considering what dunderheads the French peasants as a rule are,
who had raised himself to the position of a large vine proprietor.
Doffing his sabots and donning a clean blouse, he conducted us into his
little salon, a freshly-painted apartment about eight feet square, of
which the huge fireplace occupied fully one-third, and submitted
patiently to our catechizing.
At Ambonnay, as at Bouzy, they had that year, M. Oury said, only half an
average crop; the caque of grapes had, moreover, sold for exactly the
same price at both places, and the wine had realised about 800 francs
the pièce. Each hectare (2½ acres) of vines had yielded 45 caques of
grapes, weighing some 2¾ tons, which produced 6½ pièces, equal to 286
gallons of wine, or at the rate of 110 gallons per acre. Here the grapes
were pressed four times, the yield from the second pressure being used
principally to make good the loss which the first sustained during its
fermentation. As the squeezes given were powerful ones, all the best
qualities of the grapes were by this time extracted, and the yield from
the third and fourth pressures would not command more than 80 francs the
pièce. The vintagers who came from a distance received either a franc
and a half per day and their food, consisting of three meals, or two
francs and a half without food, the children being paid thirty sous.
M. Oury further informed us that every year vineyards came into the
market, and found ready purchasers at from fifteen to twenty thousand
francs the hectare, equal to an average price of £300 the acre. Owing to
the properties being divided into such infinitesimal portions, they were
rarely bought up by the large champagne houses, who preferred not to be
embarrassed with the cultivation of such tiny plots, but to buy the
produce from their owners.
There are other vineyards of lesser note in the neighbourhood of Reims
producing very fair wines which enter more or less into the composition
of champagne. Noticeable among these are Ville-Dommange and Sacy,
south-west of Reims, and Hermonville and St. Thierry--where the Black
Prince took up his quarters during the siege of Reims--north-west of the
city. The still red wine of St. Thierry, which recalls the growths of
the Médoc by its tannin, and those of the Côte d'Or by its vinosity, is
to-day almost a thing of the past, it being found here as elsewhere more
profitable to press the grapes for sparkling in preference to still
wine.
[Illustration]