A History of Champagne, with Notes on the Other Sparkling Wines of France. Henry Vizetelly
brother-rhymster, Jean Baptiste Rousseau, who must not be confounded with the philosophic Jean Jacques, invited Chaulieu to join him at Neuilly, in mingling the water of Hippocrene with the wine of Hautvillers,[123] and announced to the Champagne-loving Marquis d’Ussé, apropos of the latter’s favourite source of inspiration, that even
‘Phœbus will no more go climbing
For water up Helicon’s mount,
But admit, as a source of good rhyming,
Champagne excels Hippocrene’s fount.’[124]
Such general attention did the subject attract that Frederick William II. of Prussia actually proposed to the Academy of Arts and Sciences at Berlin the question, ‘Why does Champagne foam?’ for solution. The Academicians, with unexpected sharpness, petitioned the King for a supply of the beverage in question on which to experiment. But the parsimonious monarch was equal to the occasion, and a solitary dozen of the wine was all he would consent to furnish them with. His ally, Augustus the Strong of Saxony, was the hero of a ludicrous adventure connected with sparkling Champagne. At a banquet given to him at Dresden, a page, who had surreptitiously appropriated a bottle of this costly beverage, and hidden it in the breast of his coat, had to approach the King. The heat and motion combined had imparted briskness to the wine, out popped the cork, and the embroidered garments and flowing periwig of Mr. Carlyle’s ‘Man of Sin’ were drenched with the foaming liquid. The page fell on his knees and roared for mercy, and the King, as soon as he recovered from his bursts of laughter, freely forgave him his offence.
The success of Dom Perignon’s wine caused a revolution in the wine-production of the province, and gave rise to numerous imitations, despite the outcry raised against sparkling wine by many gourmets, and even by the wine-merchants themselves, who complained that they had to pander to what they regarded as a depraved taste. The elder Bertin du Rocheret, father of the lieutenant criminel and a notable dealer in wine, was much opposed to it.[125] Marshal de Montesquiou d’Artagnan, the gallant assailant of Denain, had ordered some wine of him, and he writes in reply, on November 11, 1711: ‘I have chosen three poinçons of the best wine of Pierry at 400 francs the queue, not to be drawn off as mousseux—that would be too great a pity. Also a poinçon to be drawn off as mousseux at 250 francs the queue; or, if you will only go as far as 180 francs, it will froth just as well, or better. Also a poinçon of tocane of Ay to be drunk this winter—that is to say, it should be drunk by Shrovetide—at 300 francs the queue: this wine is very fine.’[126]
On the 27th December 1712 the Marshal writes: ‘With regard to my wine being made mousseux, many prefer that it should be so; and I should not be vexed, provided it does not in any way depreciate its quality.’ On the 18th October of the following year the stern laudator temporis acti describes how the bottling has been carried out, ‘in order that your wines might be mousseux, without which I should not have done it, and perhaps you would have found it better, but it would not have had the merit of being mousseux, which in my opinion is the merit of a poor wine, and only proper to beer, chocolate, and whipped cream. Good Champagne should be clear and fine, should sparkle in the glass, and should flatter the palate, as it never does when it is mousseux, but has a smack of fermentation; hence it is only mousseux because it is working.’
The converted Marshal replies on October 25th: ‘I was in the wrong to ask you to bottle my wine so that it might be mousseux; it is a fashion that prevails everywhere, especially amongst young people. For my own part, I care very little about it; but I wish the wine to be clear and fine, and to have a strong Champagne bouquet.’ In the following December Bertin, in answer to the Marshal’s request for three quartaux of wine, says: ‘Will you kindly let me know at what date you propose to drink this wine? If it is to be drunk as mousseux, I shall not agree with you.’
The allusion to the time of year at which the wine was to be drunk throws a light upon a practice of the day, confirmed by other passages in this correspondence. Much of the wine made was drunk as vin bourru fined, but not racked off, at the beginning of the year, or as tocane, which was apt to go off if kept beyond Shrovetide. This speedy consumption and the careful choice made of the grapes intended for vin mousseux militated against the formation in the bottles of that deposit, which, up to the commencement of the present century, when the system of dégorgeage was introduced, could only be remedied by dépotage,[127] though, as we have seen, the Abbey of Hautvillers had a secret method, carefully guarded, of checking its formation.[128]
It is singular that the presence of a natural liqueur—the consequence of a complete but not excessive ripeness of the grape, and at present considered one of the highest qualities of the wine—was, at the commencement of the eighteenth century, regarded as a disease. The Mémoire of 1718 states that when the wine has any liqueur, however good it may otherwise be, it is not esteemed, and recommends the owner to get rid of this ‘bad quality’ forthwith by putting a pint of new milk warm from the cow into each pièce, stirring it well, letting it rest three days, and then racking the wine off. At this epoch the wine of the Champagne seems to have been preferred perfectly dry.[129] In June 1716 the Marshal d’Artagnan reproached Bertin du Rocheret for sending him Hautvillers wine of the preceding vintage which had turned out liquoreuse. However, in August he felt forced to write that it had become excellent, and similar experiences seem to have soon removed all prejudices against this liqueur character. Bertin, in 1725, speaks of it as one of the qualities of wine, and charges for it in proportion; and six years later remarks that the English are as mad for liqueur and colour in their wines as the French.[130]
IV.
THE BATTLE OF THE WINES.
Temporary check to the popularity of Sparkling Champagne—Doctors disagree—The champions of Champagne and Burgundy—Péna and his patient—A young Burgundian student attacks the Wine of Reims—The Faculty of Reims in arms—A local Old Parr cited as an example in favour of the Wines of the Champagne—Salins of Beaune and Le Pescheur of Reims engage warmly in the dispute—A pelting with pamphlets—Burgundy sounds a war-note—The Sapphics of Benigné Grenan—An asp beneath the flowers—The gauntlet picked up—Carols from a Coffin—Champagne extolled as superior to all other wines—It inspires the heart and stirs the brain—The apotheosis of Champagne foam—Burgundy, an invalid, seeks a prescription—Impartially appreciative drinkers of both wines—Bold Burgundian and stout Rémois, each a jolly tippling fellow—Canon Maucroix’s parallel between Burgundy and Demosthenes and Champagne and Cicero—Champagne a panacea for gout and stone—Final decision in favour of Champagne by the medical faculty of Paris—Pluche’s opinion on the controversy—Champagne a lively wit and Burgundy a solid understanding—Champagne commands double the price of the best Burgundy—Zealots reconciled at table.
BY a strange fatality the popularity of the sparkling wine of the Champagne, which had helped to dissipate the gloom hanging over court and capital during the last twenty years of the reign of Louis Quatorze,[131] began to wane the year preceding that monarch’s death.[132] Dom Perignon too, as though stricken to the heart by this, forthwith drooped and died. The inhabitants of the province once more turned their attention to their red wines, which continued to enjoy a high reputation during the first half of the century,[133] despite the sweeping assertion that they were somewhat dry, rather flat, and possessed a strong flinty flavour,[134] the goût de terroir alluded to by St. Evremond.