A History of Champagne, with Notes on the Other Sparkling Wines of France. Henry Vizetelly
manufacture of sparkling Champagne had extended throughout the district, he guarded even better than he was able to guard the apple of his eye. At his death, in 1715, he revealed it only to his successor, Frère Philippe, who, after holding sway over vat and vineyard for fifty years, died in 1765, imparting it with his latest breath to Frère André Lemaire. Revoked perforce from his functions by the French Revolution, he in turn, before his death about 1795, communicated it to Dom Grossart, who exults over the fact that whilst the greatest Champagne merchants were obliged to dépoter, the monks of Hautvillers had never done so.[104] Dom Grossart, who had counted the Moëts amongst his customers, died in his turn without making any sign, so that the secret of Perignon perished with him. Prior to that event, however, the present system of dégorgeage was discovered, and eventually dépotage was no longer practised.[105]
The material result of Dom Perignon’s labours was such that one of the presses of the abbey bore this inscription: ‘M. de Fourville, abbot of this abbey, had me constructed in the year 1694, and that same year sold his wine at a thousand livres the queue.’[106] Their moral effect was so complete that his name became identified with the wine of the abbey. People asked for the wine of Perignon, till they forgot that he was a man and not a vineyard,[107] and within a year of his death his name figures amongst a list of the wine-producing slopes of the Champagne.[108] His reputation has outlasted the walls within which he carried on his labours, and his merits are thus recorded, in conventual Latin of the period, on a black-marble slab still to be seen within the altar-steps of the abbey-church of Hautvillers.[109]
The anonymous Mémoire of 1718 gives, with an amount of preliminary flourish which would imply a doubt as to the accuracy of the statement made, the secret mode said to have been employed by Dom Perignon to improve his wine, and to have been confided by him a few days before his death to ‘a person worthy enough of belief,’ by whom it was in turn communicated to the writer. According to this, a pound of sugar-candy was dissolved in a chopine of wine, to which was then added five or six stoned peaches, four sous’ worth of powdered cinnamon, a grated nutmeg, and a demi septier of burnt brandy; and the whole, after being well mixed, was strained through fine linen into a pièce of wine immediately after fermentation had ceased, with the result of imparting to it a dainty and delicate flavour. Dom Grossart, however, in his letter to M. Dherbès, distinctly declares that ‘we never did put sugar into our wine.’[110] This collature, in which peaches play a part, was probably made use of by some wine-growers; and the peach-like flavour extolled by St. Evremond in the wine of Ay may have been due to it, or to the practice then and long afterwards followed of putting peach-leaves in the hot water with which the barrels were washed out, under the idea that this improved the flavour of the wine.[111]
Opinions were widely divided as to the cause of the effervescence in the wines of Hautvillers, for the connection between sugar and fermentation was then undreamt of, although Van Helmont had recognised the existence of carbonic acid gas in fermenting wine as early as 1624. Some thought it due to the addition of drugs, and sought to obtain it by putting not only alum and spirits of wine, but positive nastinesses, into their wine.[112] Others ascribed it to the greenness of the wine, because most of that which effervesced was extremely raw; and others again believed that it was influenced by the age of the moon at the epoch of bottling. Experience undoubtedly showed that wine bottled between the vintage and the month of May was certain to effervesce, and that no time was more favourable for this operation than the end of the second quarter of the moon of March. Nevertheless, as the wines, especially those of the Mountain of Reims, were not usually matured at this epoch, it was recommended, in order to secure a ripe and exquisite sparkling wine, to defer the bottling until the ascent of the sap in the vine between the tenth and fourteenth day of the moon of August; whereas, to insure a non mousseux wine, the bottling ought to take place in October or November.[113]
The fame of the new wine, known indifferently as vin de Perignon, flacon pétillant, flacon mousseux, vin sautant, vin mousseux, saute bouchon, &c., and even anathematised as vin du diable—for the present term, vin de Champagne, was confined as yet to the still or quasi-still growths—quickly spread. Never, indeed, was a discovery more opportune. At the moment of its introduction the glory of France was on the wane; Colbert, Louvois, and Luxembourg were dead; the Treaty of Ryswick had been signed; famine and deficit reared their threatening heads, and lo, Providence offered this new consolation for all outward and inward ills. With the King it could only find scant favour. The once brilliant Louis was now a bigoted and almost isolated invalid. His debilitated stomach, ruined by long indulgence, could scarcely even support the old Burgundy—so old that it was almost tasteless—which Fagon had prescribed as his sole beverage some years before;[114] and the popping of sparkling Champagne corks would have scandalised the quiet tête-à-tête repasts which he was wont to partake of with the pious Madame de Maintenon.[115]
But the men who were to be the future roués of the Regency were in the flower of youthful manhood in 1698, and the recommendation of Comus had with them more weight than the warnings of Æsculapius. At the joyous suppers of Anet, where the Duc de Vendôme laid aside the laurels of Mars to wreathe his brows with the ivy of Bacchus; at the Temple, where his brother, the Grand Prior, nightly revived the most scandalous features of the orgies of ancient Rome; at the Palais Royal, where the future Regent was inaugurating that long series of petits soupers which were ultimately to cost the lives of himself and his favourite daughter; and at Chantilly, where the Prince de Conti sought successfully to reproduce a younger and brighter Versailles, the pear-shaped flasks, ‘ten inches high, including the four or five of the neck,’[116] stamped with the arms of the noble hosts, and secured with Spanish wax,[117] were an indispensable adjunct to the festivities of the table. A story is told of the Marquis de Sillery, who had turned his sword into a pruning-knife, and applied himself to the cultivation of the paternal vineyards, having first introduced the sparkling wine bearing his name at one of the Anet suppers, when, at a given signal, a dozen of blooming young damsels, scantily draped in the guise of Bacchanals, entered the room, bearing apparently baskets of flowers in their hands, but which, on being placed before the guests, proved to be flower-enwreathed bottles of the new sparkling wine.[118] If ever a beverage was intended for the pleasures of society, it was certainly this one, which it was said Nature had made especially for the French,[119] who found in its discovery a compensation for the victories of Marlborough.
Chaulieu, the poetic abbé, and the favourite of both the Vendômes, hailed this new product of his native province in rapturous strophes. In an invitation to supper addressed to his friend, the Marquis de la Fare, in 1701, he describes how
‘Of fivescore clear glasses the number and brightness
Make up for of dishes the absence and lightness,
And the foam, sparkling pure,
Of fresh delicate wine
For Fortune’s frail lure
Blots out all regret in this memory of mine.’[120]
In a letter to St. Evremond, he mentions sundry wonderful things that should happen ‘if the Muses were as fond of the wine of Champagne as the poet who writes this to you;’ and, in one to the Marquis de Dangeau, jestingly remarks that
‘St. Maur’s harsher muse
All flight will refuse,
Unless you sustain
Her wings with Champagne.’[121]
Replying to an invitation to Sonning’s house at Neuilly on July 20, 1707, he says that when he comes it will be wonderful to see how the Champagne will be drained from the tall glasses known as flutes.[122] That the Champagne he extols was a sparkling wine is established in a poetical epistle to Madame D., in answer to her complaint that the wine he