Chapter IX: Part II: I (2)

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 with rising ground fringed either 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 farming 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 we 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 catechising.

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 (2-1/2 acres) of vines had yielded 45 caques of grapes, weighing some 2-3/4 tons, which produced 6-1/2 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 eighty 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_l._ the acre, which, although Ambonnay is classed merely as a second cru, has since risen in particular instances to upwards of 600_l._ per acre. Owing to the properties being divided into such infinitesimal portions, they were not always bought up by the large Champagne houses, who objected to be embarrassed with the cultivation of such tiny plots, preferring rather 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, and almost all of which can boast of a pedigree extending back at least to the Middle Ages. Noticeable among these are Ville-Dommange and Sacy, south-west of Reims. At Sacy the Abbey of St. Remi had a vineyard in 1218; and in the return of church property made in 1384, the doyen of the Cathedral is credited with 'rentes de vin' and about six _jours_ of vineland here, the Convent of Clermares at Reims owning a piece of 'vigne gonesse.' North-west of the city the best-known vineyards are those of Hermonville--mentioned likewise at the beginning of the thirteenth century, and in the return which we have just quoted--and St. Thierry, where the Black Prince took up his quarters during the siege of Reims, and where Gerard de la Roche wrought such havoc amongst the vines in the twelfth century, to the great indignation of their monkish owners. 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.

III.

/The Vines of the Champagne and the System of Cultivation./

A combination of circumstances essential to the production of
good Champagne--Varieties of vines cultivated in the Champagne
vineyards--Different classes of vine-proprietors--Cost of
cultivation--The soil of the vineyards--Period and system of
planting the vines--The operation of 'provenage'--The 'taille' or
pruning, the 'bêchage' or digging--Fixing the vine-stakes--Great
cost of the latter--Manuring and shortening back the vines--The
summer hoeing around the plants--Removal of the stakes after the
vintage--Precautions adopted against spring frosts--The Guyot
system of roofing the vines with matting--Forms a shelter from
rain, hail, and frost, and aids the ripening of the grapes--Various
pests that prey upon the Champagne vines--Destruction caused
by the Eumolpe, the Chabot, the Bêche, the Cochylus, and the
Pyrale--Attempts made to check the ravages of the latter with the
electric light.

Good Champagne does not rain down from the clouds, or gush out from the rocks, but is the result of incessant labour, patient skill, minute precaution, and careful observation. In the first place, the soil imparts to the natural wine a special quality which it has been found impossible to imitate in any other quarter of the globe. To the wine of Ay it lends a flavour of peaches, and to that of Avenay the savour of strawberries; the vintage of Hautvillers, though somewhat fallen from its former high estate, is yet marked by an unmistakably nutty taste; while that of Pierry smacks of the locally-abounding flint, the well-known _pierre à fusil_ flavour. So, on the principle that a little leaven leavens the whole lump, the produce of grapes grown in the more favoured vineyards is added in definite proportions, in order to secure certain special characteristics, as well as to maintain a fixed standard of excellence.

While it is admitted that climate is not without its influence in imparting a delicate sweetness and aroma, combined with finesse and lightness, to the wine, some authorities maintain that to the careful selection of the vines best suited to the soil and temperature of the district the excellence of genuine Champagne is mainly to be ascribed.

Four descriptions of vines are chiefly cultivated in the Champagne, three of them yielding black grapes, and all belonging to the pineau variety, from which the grand Burgundy wines are produced, and so styled from the clusters taking the conical form of the pine. The first is the franc pineau, the plant doré of Ay, with its closely-jointed shoots and small leaves, producing squat bunches of small round grapes, with thickish skins of a bluish-black tint, and sweet and refined in flavour. The next is the plant vert doré, with its leaves of vivid green, more robust and more productive than the former, but yielding a less generous wine, and the berries of which, growing in compact pyramidal bunches, are dark and oval, very thin-skinned, and remarkably sweet and juicy. The third variety, extensively planted in the vineyards of Verzy and Verzenay, is the plant gris, or burot, as it is styled in the Côte d'Or, a somewhat delicate vine, whose fruit has a brownish tinge, and yields a light and perfumed wine. The remaining species is a white grape known as the épinette, a variety of the pineau blanc, and supposed by some to be identical with the chardonnet of Burgundy, which yields the famous wine of Montrachet. It is met with all along the Côte d'Avize, notably at Cramant, the delicate and elegant wine of which ranks immediately after that of Ay and Verzenay. The épinette is a prolific bearer, and its round transparent golden berries, which hang in somewhat straggling clusters amongst its dark-green leaves, are both juicy and sweet. It ripens, however, much later than either of the black varieties.

There are several other species of vines cultivated in the Champagne vineyards, notably the common meunier, or miller, prevalent in the valley of Epernay, which bears black grapes, and takes its name from the young leaves appearing to have been sprinkled with flour. This variety being more hardy than the franc pineau is replacing the latter on the lower parts of the slopes, which are the most exposed to frosts--a regrettable circumstance, as it impairs the quality of the wine. There are also the black and white gouais; the meslier, a prolific white variety yielding a wine of fair quality; the black and white gamais, the leading grape in the Mâconnais, and chiefly found in some of the Vertus vineyards; together with the tourlon, the marmot, the cohéras, the plant doux, and half a score of others.

The land in the Champagne, as in other parts of France, is minutely subdivided, and it has been estimated that the 40,000 acres of vines are divided amongst no less than 16,000 proprietors. A few of the principal Champagne firms are large owners of vineyards; and as the value of the soil has more than quadrupled within the last thirty years, even the smallest peasant proprietors have cause for congratulation.[407] These latter cultivate their vineyards themselves; while the larger landowners employ labourers, termed _forains_ when coming from a distance and working by the week for their lodging, food, and from 20 to 30 francs wages, or _tâcherons_ when paid by the job. The last-mentioned class usually contract to cultivate and dress an arpent of vines, exclusive of the vintage, at from 8_l._ to 12_l._ per annum.

In the Champagne the old rule holds good--poor soil, rich product, grand wine in moderate quantity. The soil of the vineyards is chalk, with a mixture of silica and light clay, combined with a varying proportion of oxide of iron. Many of the best have a substratum of stones and sand, and a thin superstratum of vegetable earth. The ruddier the soil, and consequently the more impregnated with ferruginous earth, the better suited it is found to the cultivation of black grapes; whilst the gray or yellowish soils, such as abound in the Côte d'Avize, are preferable for the white varieties.

The vines are almost invariably planted on rising ground, the lower slopes, which seldom escape the spring frosts, producing the best wines. The vines are placed very close together, there often being as many as six within a square yard, and the result is that they reciprocally impoverish each other. Planting takes place between November and April, the vine-growers of the River being usually in advance of those of the Mountain in this operation. Plants two or three years old and raised in nurseries are usually made use of. These are placed either in holes or trenches. The roots have a little earth sprinkled over them, to which a liberal supply of manure or compost is added, and the holes having been filled up and trodden, the vines are pruned down to a couple of buds above the ground.

In the course of two or three years they are ready for the operation of 'provinage,' or layering, a method of multiplication universally practised in the Champagne. This consists in burying in a trench, from six to eight inches deep dug on one side of the plant, two or more of the principal shoots, left when the vine was pruned for this especial purpose. The whole of the two-years'-old wood is thus buried, and the ends of the shoots of one-year-old, which are left above ground, are cut down to the second bud. The shoots thus laid underground are dressed with a light manure, and in course of time take root and form new vines, which bear during their second year. This operation is performed simultaneously with the 'bêchage' in the early spring, and is annually repeated until the vine is five years old, the plants thus being in a state of continual progression; a system which accounts for the juvenescent aspect of the Champagne vineyards, where none of the wood of the vines showing above ground is more than three years old.

The two principal plans adopted in provining are styled the 'écart' and the 'avance.' In the first, which is usually followed in newly-planted vineyards, the two shoots are carried forward to the right and left--so as to form the two base points of an equilateral triangle, of which the point of departure is the summit--and are maintained in this position by the aid of wooden or iron pegs. In the 'provinage à l'avance' both shoots are carried forward in the same direction, and sometimes a variation embodying the two systems is employed.

When the vine has attained its fifth year it is allowed to rest for a couple of years, and then the provining is resumed, the shoots being dispersed in any direction throughout the vineyard, so as to fill up vacancies. The plants remain in this condition henceforward, merely requiring to be renewed from time to time by judicious provining. For instance, it is sometimes found necessary to bend one of the shoots round into a circle, so that its end may issue from the ground at the point occupied by the parent stock. The system of provinage is sometimes carried to excess in the Champagne, with a view of increasing the yield of wine, which suffers, however, in quality. The network of roots, too, renders the various operations of cultivation difficult and dangerous, as they are liable to be injured by the short-handled hoe in universal use among the Champenois vine-dressers.

Viticulturists inclined to make experiments have tried the system of arranging the vines in transverse and longitudinal lines, quincunxes, &c., or have replaced their vine-stakes with iron wires supported by wooden pickets. Some of these experiments have proved successful, although none of them are as yet in general use.

The first operation of importance carried out during the year in the vineyards is the 'taille,' or pruning, which takes place in February, and consists in cutting away the superfluous shoots, simply leaving one--or, if it is intended to multiply by provinage, two--on each stock. This is followed about March or April by the 'bêchage,' or 'hoyerie'--that is, the digging round the roots of the vine--with which is combined the provinage. A trench being opened, as already noted, and the vine laid bare to the roots, it is bent down so that, on filling up the trench with earth and manure, the stock is entirely covered and only the new wood appears above ground. This new wood is then shortened back, and the stakes intended for the support of the vines are fixed in the ground. These stakes are set up in the spring of the year by men or women, the former of whom force them into the ground by pressing against them with their chest, which is protected with a shield of wood. The women use a mallet, or have recourse to a special appliance, in working which the foot plays the principal part. The latter method is the least fatiguing, and in some localities is practised by the men. An expert labourer will set up as many as 5000 stakes in the course of the day. When of oak these stakes cost sixty francs the thousand; and as the close system of plantation followed in the Champagne renders the employment of no less than 24,000 stakes necessary on every acre of land, the cost per acre of propping up the vines amounts to upwards of 57_l._, or more than treble what it is in the Médoc and quadruple what it is in Burgundy. The stakes last only some fifteen years, and their renewal forms a serious item in the vine-grower's budget.

In May or June, after the vines have been hoed around their roots, they are secured to the stakes, and their tops are broken off at a shoot to prevent them from growing above the regulation height, which is ordinarily from 30 to 33 inches. They are liberally manured with a kind of compost formed of the loose friable soil termed 'cendre'--dug out from the sides of the hills, and of supposed volcanic origin--mixed with animal and vegetable refuse. The vines are shortened back while in flower, and in the course of the summer the ground is hoed a second and a third time, the object being, first, to destroy the superficial roots of the vines and force the plants to live solely on their deep roots; and secondly, to remove all pernicious weeds from round about them. After the third hoeing, which takes place in the middle of August, the vines are left to themselves until the period of the vintage, excepting that some growers remove a portion of the leaves in order that the grapes may receive the full benefit of the sun, and raise up those bunches that rest upon the ground. The vintage over, the stakes supporting the vines are pulled up later in the autumn and stacked in compact masses, styled 'moyères,' with their ends out of the ground, or else 'en chevalet,' the vine, which is left curled up in a heap, remaining undisturbed until the winter, when the earth around it is loosened. In the month of February following the vine is pruned and subsequently sunk into the earth, as already described, so as to leave only the new wood above ground. Owing to the vines being planted so closely together they naturally starve one another, and numbers of them perish. Whenever this is the case, or the stems chance to get broken during the vintage, their places are filled up by provining.

The vignerons of the Champagne regard the numerous stakes which support the vines as affording some protection against the white frosts of the spring. To guard against the dreaded effects of these frosts, which invariably occur between early dawn and sunrise, and the loss arising from which is estimated to amount annually to 25 per cent, some of the cultivators place heaps of hay, fagots, dead leaves, &c., about twenty yards apart, taking care to keep them moderately damp. When a frost is feared the heaps on the side of a vineyard whence the wind blows are set light to, whereupon the dense smoke which rises spreads horizontally over the vines, producing the same result as an actual cloud, intercepting the rays of the sun, warming the atmosphere, and converting the frost into dew. Among other methods adopted to shield the vines from frosts is the joining of branches of broom together in the form of a fan, and afterwards fastening them to the end of a pole, which is placed obliquely in the ground, so that the fan may incline over the vine and protect it from the sun's rays. A single labourer can plant, it is said, as many as eight thousand of these fans in the ground during a long day.

Dr. Guyot's system of roofing the vines with straw matting, to protect them alike against frosts and hailstorms, is very generally followed in low situations in the Champagne, the value of the wine admitting of so considerable an expense being incurred. This matting, which is made about a foot and a half in width, and in rolls of great length, is fastened either with twine or wire to the vine-stakes; and it is estimated that half a dozen men can fix nearly 11,000 yards of it, or sufficient to roof over 2-1/2 acres of vines, during an ordinary day. To carry out the system properly, a double row of tall and short stakes connected with iron wires has to be provided. The matting can then be used as a shelter to the young vines in spring, as a south wall to aid the ripening of the grapes in summer, and as a protection against rain and autumn frosts.

Owing to the system of cultivation by rejuvenescence, and the constant replenishing of the soil by well-compounded manures, the Champenois wine-growers entertain great hopes that their vineyards will escape the ravages of the phylloxera vastatrix. They certainly deserve such an immunity, for, according to Dr. Plonquet of Ay, they are already the prey of no less than fifteen varieties of insects, which feed upon the leaves, stalks, roots, or fruit of the vines. One of the most destructive of these is the eumolpe, gribouri, or écrivain as it is popularly styled, from the traces it leaves upon the vine-leaves bearing some resemblance to lines of writing. It is a species of beetle, the larvæ of which pass the winter amongst the roots of the vine, and in the spring attack the young leaves and buds, their ravages often proving fatal to the plant. Then there is the chabot, which has caused great destruction at Verzy and Verzenay; the attelabe, cunche, or bêche, which rolls up the leaves of the vine like cigars, and seems to be identical with the hurebet or urbec of the Middle Ages; and the cochylis, teigne, or vintage-worm, which develops into a white-and-black butterfly, producing in the course of the year two generations of larvæ, having the form of small red caterpillars, one of which attacks the blossoms of the vine, while the second pierces and destroys the grapes themselves. The list of foes further comprises the altise, a kind of beetle allied to the gribouri; the liset or coupe-bourgeon, a tiny worm assailing the first sprouting shoots; and the hanneton or cockchafer.

The greatest havoc, however, appears to be wrought by the pyrale, a species of caterpillar, which feeds on the young leaves, flowers, and shoots until the vine is left completely bare. The larva of this insect, after passing the winter either in the crevices of the stakes or in the cracks in the bark of the vine, emerges in the spring, devours leaves, buds, and shoots indifferently, and eventually becomes transformed into a small yellow-and-brown butterfly, which deposits its eggs amongst the bunches of grapes in July. Between 1850 and 1860 the vineyards of Ay were devastated by the pyrale, which, like the locusts of Scripture, spared no green thing; and all the efforts made to rid them of this scourge proved ineffectual until the wet and cold weather of 1860 put a stop to the insect's ravages.[408] More recently it was discovered that its attacks could be checked by sulphurous acid, or by scalding the stakes and the vine-stocks with boiling water during the winter. Nevertheless, it appeared impossible to check its destructiveness at Ay, where it made its reappearance in 1879, and caused an immense amount of damage. On this occasion an ingenious gentleman, M. Testulat Gaspar, was seized with the idea of combating the pyrale by means of the electric light. His theory was, that on a powerful light being exhibited in a central position at midnight amongst the vineyards, with a number of tin reflectors distributed in every direction around, the butterflies, roused from slumber, would wing their way in myriads towards the latter, when their flight could be arrested by sheets of muslin stretched between poles, smeared with honey and baited with a dash of Champagne liqueur. The theory was put to the test in August 1879, amongst the vineyards between Dizy and Ay, where the pyrale was committing the greatest ravages. The light was turned on, and the butterflies rose 'in millions;' but they failed to flock to the reflectors, and the honey-smeared muslin proved quite useless to secure the few which came in contact with it.

IV.

/The Vintage in the Champagne./

Period of the Champagne vintage--Vintagers summoned by
beat of drum--Early morning the best time for plucking
the grapes--Excitement in the neighbouring villages at
vintage-time--Vintagers at work--Mules employed to convey the
gathered grapes down the steeper slopes--The fruit carefully
examined before being taken to the wine-press--Arrival of the
grapes at the vendangeoir--They are subjected to three squeezes,
and then to the 'rébêche'--The must is pumped into casks and left
to ferment--Only a few of the vine-proprietors in the Champagne
press their own grapes--The prices the grapes command--Air of
jollity throughout the district during the vintage--Every one
is interested in it, and profits by it--Vintagers' fête on St.
Vincent's-day--Endless philandering between the sturdy sons of toil
and the sunburnt daughters of labour.

When the weather has been exceedingly propitious, the vintage in the Champagne commences as early as the third week in September, and in good average years the pickers set to work during the first week of October. If, however, the summer has been an indifferent one, and only an inferior vintage is looked forward to, it is scarcely before the latter half of October that the gathering of the grapes is proceeded with. There is no vintage-ban in the Champagne, as in Burgundy and other parts of France; but, as a rule, the growers of Ay and of the neighbouring slopes commence operations a week or more earlier than those of the Mountain of Reims, whilst around Cramant and Avize, the white-grape region, the vintagers usually set to work when in the other districts they have nearly finished.

The pleasantest season of the year to visit the Champagne is certainly during the vintage. When this is about to commence, the vintagers--some of whom come from Sainte Menehould, forty miles distant, while others hail from as far as Lorraine--are summoned at daybreak by beat of drum in the market-places of the villages adjacent to the vineyards, and then and there a price is made for the day's labour. This, as we have already explained, is generally either a franc and a half, with food consisting of three meals, or two francs and a half, rising on exceptional occasions to three francs, without food, children being paid a franc and a half. The rate of wage satisfactorily arranged, the gangs start off to the vineyards, headed by their overseers.

The picking ordinarily commences with daylight, and the vintagers assert that the grapes gathered at sunrise always produce the lightest and most limpid wine. Moreover by plucking the grapes when the early morning sun is upon them, they are believed to yield a fourth more juice. Later on in the day, too, spite of all precautions, it is impossible to prevent some of the detached grapes from partially fermenting, which frequently suffices to give a slight excess of colour to the must, a thing especially to be avoided in a high-class Champagne. When the grapes have to be transported in open baskets for some distance to the press-house, jolting along the road either in carts or on the backs of mules, and exposed to the torrid rays of a bright autumnal sun, the juice expressed from the fruit, however dexterously the latter may be squeezed in the press, is occasionally of a positive purple tinge, and consequently useless for conversion into Champagne.

At vintage-time everywhere is bustle and excitement; every one is big with the business in hand. In these ordinarily quiet little villages nestling amidst vine clad hollows, or perched half-way up a slope tinted from base to summit with richly-variegated hues, there is a perpetual pattering of sabots and a rattling and bumping of wheels over the roughly-paved streets. The majority of the inhabitants are afoot: the feeble feminine half, baskets on arm, thread their way with the juveniles through the rows of vines planted half-way up the mountain, and all aglow with their autumnal glories of green and purple, crimson and yellow; while the sturdy masculine portion are mostly passing to and fro between the press-houses and the wine-shops. Carts piled up with baskets, or crowded with peasants from a distance on their way to the vineyards, jostle the low railway-trucks laden with brand-new casks, and the somewhat rickety cabriolets of the agents of the big Champagne houses, who are reduced to clinch their final bargain for a hundred or more pièces of the peerless wine of Ay or Bouzy, Verzy or Verzenay, beside the reeking wine-press.

Dotting the steep slopes like a swarm of huge ants are a crowd of men, women, and children, the men, in blue blouses or stripped to their shirt-sleeves, being for the most part engaged in carrying the baskets to and fro and loading the carts; whilst the women, in closely-fitting neat white caps, or wearing old-fashioned unbleached straw-bonnets of the contemned coalscuttle type, resembling the 'sun-bonnet' of the Midland counties, together with the children, are intent on stripping the vines of their luscious-looking fruit. They detach the grapes with scissors or hooked knives, technically termed 'serpettes,' and in some vineyards proceed to remove all damaged, decayed, or unripe fruit from the bunches before placing them in the baskets which they carry on their arms, and the contents of which they empty from time to time into a larger basket resembling an ass's pannier in shape, numbers of these being dispersed about the vineyard for the purpose, and invariably in the shade. When filled the baskets are carried by a couple of men to the roadside, along which dwarf stones carved with initials, and indicating the boundaries of the respective properties, are encountered every eight or ten yards, into such narrow strips are the vineyards divided. Large carts with railed open sides are continually passing backwards and forwards to pick these baskets up; and when one has secured its load it is driven slowly to the neighbouring pressoir, so that the grapes may not be in the least degree shaken, such is the care observed throughout every stage of the process of Champagne manufacture. When the vineyard slopes are very steep--as, for instance, at Mareuil--and the paths do not admit of the approach of carts, mules, equipped with panniers and duly muzzled, are employed to convey the gathered fruit to the press-house.

In many vineyards the grapes are inspected in bulk instead of in detail before being sent to the wine-press. The hand-baskets, when filled, are brought to a particular spot, where their contents are minutely examined by some half-dozen men and women, who pluck off the bruised, rotten, and unripe berries, and fling them aside into a separate basket. In other vineyards we came upon parties of girls, congregated round a wicker sieve perched on the top of a large tub by the roadside, engaged in sorting the grapes, pruning away the diseased stalks, and picking off all the doubtful berries. The latter were let fall through the interstices of the sieve, while the sound fruit was deposited in large baskets standing beside the sorters, and which, as soon as they were filled, were conveyed to the pressoir. When the proprietor is of an economic turn he usually has the refuse grapes pressed for wine for home consumption. Spite of the minute examination to which the grapes are subjected, a sharp eye will frequently discover in the heart of what looks like a regular and well-grown bunch a grape that is absolutely rotten, and capable of infecting its companions when the whole are heaped up together in the wine-press.

Carts laden with grapes are continually arriving at the pressoirs, discharging their loads and driving off for fresh ones. The piled-up baskets, marked with the names of the vineyard-owners whose grapes they contain, are temporarily stored under a shed in a cool place, and are brought into the pressoir from time to time as required. In the district of the River the grapes are weighed, while in that of the Mountain they are measured, before being emptied on to the floor of the press. In some places the latter is of the old-fashioned type, resembling the ordinary cider-press; but usually powerful presses of modern invention, worked by a large fly-wheel requiring four sturdy men to turn it, are employed. The grapes are spread over the floor of the press in a compact mass, and in some rare cases are lightly trodden by a couple of men with their naked feet before being subjected to mechanical pressure, which is again and again repeated, only the first squeeze giving a high-class wine, and the second and third a relatively inferior one. After three pressures the grapes are usually worked about with peels, and subjected to a final squeeze known as the 'rébêche,' which produces a sort of _piquette_, given to the workmen to drink, but in many instances forming the habitual, and indeed only, beverage of the economically-inclined peasant proprietor.

The must filters through a wicker basket into the reservoir beneath, whence, after remaining a certain time to allow of its ridding itself of the grosser lees, it is pumped through a gutta-percha tube into the casks. The wooden stoppers of the bungholes, instead of being fixed tightly in the apertures, are simply laid over them, and after the lapse of ten or twelve days fermentation usually commences, and during its progress the must, which is originally of a pale-pink tint, fades to a light-straw colour. The wine usually remains undisturbed until Christmas, when it is drawn off into fresh casks and delivered to the purchaser.

One peculiarity of the Champagne district is that, contrary to the prevailing practice in the other wine-producing regions of France, where the owner of even a single acre of vines will crush his grapes himself, only a limited number of vine-proprietors press their own grapes. The large Champagne houses, possessing vineyards, always have their pressoirs in the neighbourhood, and other large vine-proprietors press the grapes they grow; but the multitude of small cultivators invariably sell the produce of their vineyards to one or other of the former at a certain rate, either by weight or else by caque, a measure estimated to hold sixty kilogrammes (equal to 132 lb. avoirdupois) of grapes. The price which the fruit fetches varies of course according to the quality of the vintage and the requirements of the manufacturers; but the average may be taken at about 80 centimes per kilogramme, equivalent to rather more than 3-1/2_d._ per lb.[409]

If in the Champagne the picturesque rejoicings immortalised in the Italian vintage scenes of Léopold Robert are lacking, and if the grapes, instead of being trodden to the blithe accompaniment of flute and fiddle, as in some parts of France, are pressed in more quiet fashion, a pleasant air of jollity nevertheless pervades the district at the season of the vintage. Every one participates in the interest which this excites. It influences the takings of all the artificers and all the tradespeople, and brings grist to the mill of the baker and the bootmaker, as well as to the café and cabaret. The contending interests of capital and labour are, moreover, singularly satisfied, the vintagers being content at getting their two francs and a half a day, and the men at the pressoirs their three francs and their food; the vineyard proprietor reaping the return of the time, care, and money expended upon his patch of vines, and the Champagne manufacturer acquiring raw material on sufficiently satisfactory terms, the which, when duly guaranteed by his name and brand, will bring to him both fame and fortune.

Should the vintage be a scanty one, the plethoric _commissionnaires-en-vins_ will wipe their perspiring foreheads with satisfaction when they have at last secured the full number of hogsheads they had been instructed to buy--at a high figure maybe; still this is no disadvantage to them, as their commission mounts up the higher. And even the thickest-skulled among the small vine-proprietors, who make all their calculations on their fingers, see at a glance that, although the crop may be no more than half an average one, they are gainers, thanks to the ill-disguised anxiety of the agents to secure all the wine they require, which has the effect of sending prices up to nearly double those of ordinary years, and this with only half the work in the vineyard and at the winepress to be done.

The vintage in the Champagne comes to a close without any of those festivals which still linger in the department of the Gironde. On the 22d of January, the fête of St. Vincent, the patron saint of vine-growers, it is customary, however, for one of the proprietors in each village to pay for a mass and give a breakfast to his relatives and friends, at which he presents a bouquet to one of the guests, who, in his turn, is expected to pay for the mass and give the breakfast the year following. On the same day the proprietors entertain their workpeople, who, after having eaten and drunk their fill, wind up the day with song and dance, leading to no end of innocent philandering between the sturdy sons of toil and the sunburnt daughters of labour. On these occasions the famous vintage song is sometimes heard:

'Vendangeons et vive la France,
Le monde un jour avec nous trinquera.'

V.

/The Preparation of Champagne./

The treatment of Champagne after it comes from the wine-press--The
racking and blending of the wine--The proportions of red and
white vintages composing the 'cuvée'--Deficiency and excess
of effervescence--Strength and form of Champagne bottles--The
'tirage' or bottling of the wine--The process of gas-making
commences--Details of the origin and development of the
effervescent properties of Champagne--The inevitable breakage
of bottles which ensues--This remedied by transferring the wine
to a lower temperature--The wine stacked in piles--Formation of
sediment--Bottles placed 'sur pointe' and daily shaken to detach
the deposit--Effect of this occupation on those incessantly
engaged in it--The present system originated by a workman of
Madame Clicquot's--'Claws' and 'masks'--Champagne cellars--Their
construction and aspect--Raw recruits for the 'Regiment de
Champagne'--Transforming the 'vin brut' into Champagne--Disgorging
and liqueuring the wine--The composition of the liqueur--Variation
in the quantity added to suit diverse national tastes--The corking,
stringing, wiring, and amalgamating--The wine's agitated existence
comes to an end--The bottles have their toilettes made--Champagne
sets out on its beneficial pilgrimage round the world.

The special characteristic of Champagne is that its manufacture only commences where that of other wines ordinarily ends. No one would recognise in the still brut fluid--which, after being duly racked and fined, has somewhat the taste and colour of an acrid Rhine wine, with a more or less pronounced bitter flavour--that exhilarating essence which is capable of raising the most depressed spirits, and imparting gaiety to the dismallest gatherings. Much as Champagne may stand indebted to Nature, soil, climate, and species of vine, the sparkling fluid has contracted a far greater debt towards man, to whose incessant labour, patient skill, and minute precautions it owes that combination of qualities which causes it to be so highly prized.

In the preceding chapter we left the newly-expressed must flowing direct from the press into capacious reservoirs, whence it is drawn off into large vats, where it clears itself by depositing its mucous lees, usually within twenty-four hours. It is then transferred to new or perfectly clean casks, holding some forty gallons each, in which a sulphur match has been previously burnt. These casks are not filled quite up to the bunghole, which is generally covered with a vine-leaf kept in its place by a piece of tile. The bulk of the newly-made wine is left to repose at the vendangeoirs until the commencement of the following year; still, when the vintage is over, numbers of long narrow carts laden with casks of newly-expressed must may be seen rolling along the dusty highways, bound for those towns and villages in the department of the Marne where the manufacture of Champagne is carried on, and where the leading firms have their establishments. Chief amongst these is the cathedral city of Reims, after which comes the rising town of Epernay, stretching to the very verge of the river; then Ay, nestling between the vine-clad slopes and the Marne canal, with the neighbouring village of Mareuil; next Pierry; and finally Avize, in the centre of the white-grape district southwards of Epernay. Châlons, owing to its distance from the vineyards, does not usually draw its supply of wine until the new year.

In the vast celliers of the manufacturers' establishments, where a temperature of about 60 to 70 degrees Fahrenheit usually prevails, the wine undergoes its first fermentation, entailing a loss of about 7-1/2 per cent, and lasting from a fortnight to a month, according as to whether the wine be _mou_--that is, rich in sugar--or the reverse. In the former case fermentation naturally lasts much longer than when the wine is _vert_ or green. This active fermentation is converted into latent fermentation by transferring the wine to a cooler cellar, as it is essential it should retain a certain proportion of its natural saccharine to insure its future effervescence. The casks have previously been completely filled, and their bungholes tightly stopped, a necessary precaution to guard the wine from absorbing oxygen, the effect of which would be to turn it yellow, and cause it to lose some of its lightness and perfume. After being racked and fined--an operation generally performed about the third week in December--the produce of the different vineyards is ready for mixing together in accordance with the traditional theories of the various manufacturers; and should the vintage have been an indifferent one, a certain proportion of old reserved wine of a good year enters into the blend.

The mixing is usually effected in gigantic vats holding at times as many as 12,000 gallons each, and having fan-shaped appliances inside, which, on being worked by handles, insure a complete amalgamation of the wine. This process of marrying wine on a gigantic scale is technically known as making the _cuvée_. Usually four-fifths of wine obtained from black grapes, and now of a pale-pink hue, are tempered by one-fifth of the juice of white ones. It is necessary that the first should comprise a more or less powerful dash of the finer growths both of the Mountain of Reims and of the River; while, as regards the latter, one or other of the delicate vintages of the Côte d'Avize is essential to the perfect _cuvée_. The aim is to combine and develop the special qualities of the respective crus, body and vinosity being secured by the red vintages of Bouzy and Verzenay, softness and roundness by those of Ay and Dizy, and lightness, delicacy, and effervescence by the white growths of Avize and Cramant. The proportions are never absolute, but vary according to the manufacturer's style of wine and the taste of the countries which form his principal markets. In the opinion of some clever amalgamators, a blend comprising one-third of the vintages of Sillery, Verzenay, and Bouzy, one-third of those of Mareuil, Ay, and Dizy, and the remaining third composed of the produce of Pierry, Cramant, and Avize, constitutes the wine of Champagne _par excellence_. Others not less expert declare that a simple mixture of the Ay, Pierry, and Cramant vintages furnishes a perfect wine. As when this blending takes place the wine is only imperfectly fermented and exceedingly crude, the reader may imagine the delicacy and discrimination of palate requisite to judge of the flavour, finesse, and bouquet which the _cuvée_ is likely eventually to develop.

These, however, are not the only matters to be considered. There is, above everything, the effervescence, which depends upon the quantity of carbonic acid gas the wine already contains, and the further quantity it is likely to develop, which depends upon the amount of its natural saccharine. After the bottling, if the gas be present in excess, there will be a shattering of bottles and a flooding of cellars; while, on the other hand, if there be a paucity, the corks will refuse to pop, and the wine to sparkle aright in the glass. The amount of saccharine in the _cuvée_ has therefore to be accurately ascertained by means of a glucometer; and should it fail to reach the required standard, as is the case at times when the season has been wet and cold and the vintage a poor one, the deficiency is made up by the addition of the purest sugar-candy. If, on the other hand, there be an excess of saccharine, the only thing to be done is to defer the final blending and bottling of the wine until the superfluous saccharine matter has been absorbed by fermentation in the cask.

The _cuvée_ completed, the blended wine, which in its present condition gives to the uninitiated palate no promise of the exquisite delicacy and aroma it is destined to develop, is drawn off again into casks for further treatment. This comprises fining with some gelatinous substance, usually isinglass, made into a jelly and strained through a 'tammy;' while, as a precaution against ropiness and other maladies, liquid tannin, derived from nut-galls, catechu, or grape husks and pips, is at the same time frequently added to supply the place of the natural tannin, which has departed from the wine with its reddish hue at the epoch of its first fermentation. If at the expiration of a month the wine has not become perfectly clear and limpid, it is racked off the lees, and the operation of fining is repeated.

The operation of bottling the wine next ensues, when the scriptural advice not to put new wine into old bottles is rigorously followed. For the tremendous pressure of the gas engendered during the subsequent fermentation of the wine is such that the bottle becomes weakened, and can never be safely trusted again.[410] It is because of this pressure that the Champagne bottle is one of the strongest made, as indicated by its weight, which is almost a couple of pounds. To insure this unusual strength, it is necessary that the sides should be of equal thickness and the bottom of a uniform solidity throughout, in order that no particular expansion may ensue from sudden changes of temperature. The neck must, moreover, be perfectly round and widen gradually towards the shoulder. In addition--and this is of the utmost consequence--the inside ought to be perfectly smooth, as a rough interior causes the gas to make efforts to escape, and thus renders an explosion imminent. The composition of the glass, too, is not without its importance, as on one occasion a manufactory established for the production of glass by a new process turned out Champagne bottles charged with alkaline sulphurets, and the consequence was that an entire _cuvée_ was ruined by their use, through the reciprocal action of the wine and these sulphurets. The acids of the former disengaged hydrosulphuric acid, and instead of Champagne the result was a new species of mineral water.

Most of the bottles used for Champagne come from the factories of Loivre (which supplies the largest quantity), Folembray, Vauxrot, and Quiquengrogne, and they cost on the average from 28 to 33 francs the hundred.[411] They are generally tested by a practised hand, who, by knocking them sharply together, professes to be able to tell, from the sound that they give, the substance of the glass and its temper, though occasionally a special machine, subjecting them to hydraulic pressure, is had recourse to.

The operation of washing, which takes place immediately preceding the bottling of the wine, is invariably performed by women, who at the larger establishments accomplish it with the aid of machines, provided at times with a revolving brush, although small glass beads are generally used by preference. Each bottle after being washed is minutely examined, to make certain of its perfect purity, and is then placed neck downwards in a tall basket to drain.

With the different Champagne houses the mode of bottling the wine, which may take place any time between April and August, varies in some measure, still the _tirage_, as this operation is called, is ordinarily effected as follows: The wine, after a preliminary test as to its fitness for bottling, is emptied from the casks into vats or tuns of varying capacity in the _salle du tirage_. From these it flows through pipes into oblong reservoirs, each provided with a row of syphon-taps, on to which the bottles are slipped, and from which the wine ceases to flow directly the bottles become filled. Men or lads remove the full bottles, replacing them by empty ones, while other hands convey them to the corkers, whose guillotine machines are incessantly in motion. Speed in the process is of much importance, as during a single day the wine may undergo a notable change. From the corkers the bottles are passed on to the _agrafeurs_, who secure the corks by means of an iron clip termed an agrafe; and they are afterwards conveyed either to a spacious room above-ground known as a cellier or to a cool vault underground, according to the number of atmospheres which the wine may indicate.

With reference to these atmospheres, it should be explained that air compressed to half its volume acquires twice its ordinary force, and to a quarter of its volume quadruple this force--hence the phrase of two, four, or more atmospheres. The exact degree of pressure is readily ascertained by means of a manometer, an instrument resembling a pressure-gauge, with a hollow screw at the base, which is driven through the cork of the bottle. A pressure of 5-3/4 atmospheres constitutes what is styled a 'grand mousseux,' and the wine exhibiting it may be safely conveyed to the coolest subterranean depths, for no doubt need be entertained as to its future effervescent properties. Should the pressure, however, scarcely exceed four atmospheres, it is advisable to keep the wine in a cellier above-ground, that it may more rapidly acquire the requisite sparkling qualities. If fewer than four atmospheres are indicated, it would be necessary to pour the wine back into the casks again, and add a certain amount of cane-sugar to it; but such an eventuality very rarely happens, thanks to the scientific formulas and apparatus, which enable the degree of pressure the wine will show to be determined beforehand to a nicety. Still mistakes are sometimes made, and there are instances where charcoal fires have had to be lighted in the cellars to encourage the latent effervescence to develop itself.[412]

The bottles are first placed in a horizontal position, the side to be kept uppermost being indicated by a daub of whitewash, and are stacked in rows of varying length and depth, one above the other, to about the height of a man, with narrow laths between them. Thus they will spend the summer, providing all goes well; but in about three weeks' time the process of gas-making inside the bottles is at its height, and a period of considerable anxiety to the Champagne manufacturer ensues, through his dread lest an undue number of them should burst from the expansion of the carbonic acid gas generated in the wine. The glucometer notwithstanding, it is impossible to check a certain amount of breakage, especially when a hot season has caused the grapes, and consequently the raw wine, to be sweeter than usual. Moreover, when once _casse_ or breakage sets in on a large scale, the temperature of the cellar is raised by the volume of carbonic acid gas let loose, which is not without its effect on the remaining bottles. Not only does the increased temperature unduly accelerate fermentation, but the mere shock of one bottle exploding often starts such of its neighbours as are predisposed that way, in addition to the direct havoc wrought by the heavier fragments of flying glass. The only remedy is the instant removal of the wine to a lower temperature whenever this is practicable.

A manufacturer of the pre-scientific days of the last century relates how one year, when the wine was rich and strong, he only preserved 120 out of 6000 bottles; and it is not long since that 120,000 out of 200,000 were destroyed in the cellars of a well-known Champagne firm. M. Mauméné, moreover, relates that in 1850 he was called in to consult about the checking of a _casse_, which had already reached 96 per cent.[413] Over-knowing purchasers affect to select a wine which has exploded in the largest proportion in the cellars, as being well up to the mark as regards its effervescence, and are in the habit of making inquiries as to its performances in this direction.

It is evident that, in spite of the teachings of science, the bursting of Champagne bottles has not yet been reduced to a minimum, for whereas in some cellars it averages 7 and 8 per cent, and rises to 15 when the pressure is unusually strong, in others it rarely exceeds 2-1/2 or 3. The period between May and September is that in which the greatest destruction takes place. In the month of October, the first and severest breakage being over, the newly-bottled wine is definitively stacked in the cellars in piles from two to half a dozen bottles deep, from six to seven feet high, and frequently a hundred feet or upwards in length. Usually the bottles remain in their horizontal position, in which they gradually develop two essential qualities, that of effervescing well and that of travelling satisfactorily, for about eighteen or twenty months, though some firms, who pride themselves upon shipping perfectly matured wines, leave them thus for double this space of time. During this period the temperature to which the wine is exposed is, as far as practicable, carefully regulated; for the risk of breakage, though greatly diminished, is never entirely at an end.